es life and light--
There streams of pleasure ever flow,
And pure delight.

Christ says to all with sin oppressed,
"Come here, and taste of heavenly rest,
Receive Me as your friendly guest
Into your cots;
In Me you shall be rich and blest,
Though mean your lots.

"Behold My hands, My feet, My side,
All crimsoned with the bloody tide!
For you I wept, and bled, and died,
And rose again:
And throned at My Father's side,
Now plead amain!

"Repent, and enter Mercy's door,
And though you dwell in cots obscure,
All guilty, ragged, hungry, poor,
I give in love
A crown of gold, and pardon sure,
To each above."

Then hear the kind, inviting voice--
Believing in the Lord rejoice;
Your souls will hymn the happy choice
To God on high,
Whilst joyful angels swell the noise
Throughout the sky.

A fond farewell!--each cottage friend,
To Jesu's love I would commend
Your souls and bodies to the end
Of life's rough way;
Then (death subdued) may you ascend
To endless day!

THE COTTAGER'S HYMN.

I.

My food is but spare,
And humble my cot,
Yet Jesus dwells there
And blesses my lot:
Though thinly I'm clad,
And tempests oft roll,
He's raiment, and bread,
And drink to my soul.

II.

His presence is wealth,
His grace is a treasure,
His promise is health
And joy out of measure.
His word is my rest,
His spirit my guide:
In Him I am blest
Whatever betide.

III.

Since Jesus is mine,
Adieu to all sorrow;
I ne'er shall repine,
Nor think of to-morrow:
The lily so fair,
And raven so black,
He nurses with care,
Then how shall I lack?

IV.

Each promise is sure,
That shines in His word,
And tells me, though poor,
I'm rich in my Lord.
Hence! Sorrow and Fear!
Since Jesus is nigh,
I'll dry up each tear
And stifle each sigh.

V.

Though prince, duke, or lord,
Ne'er enter my shed,
King Jesus my board
With dainties does spread.
Since He is my guest,
For joy I shall sing,
And ever be blest
In Jesus my King.

VI.

With horrible din
Afflictions may swell,--
They cleanse me from sin,
They save me from hell:
They're all but the rod
Of Jesus, in love;
They lead me to God
And blessings above.

VII.

Through sickness and pain
I flee to my Lord,
Sweet comfort to gain,
And health from His word;
Bleak scarcities raise
A keener desire,
To fee