Or blushed beneath unholy shame;
Or,—craven prophets,—turned to flee
When duty bade us speak for Thee;—
’Mid this sweet stillness, while we bow,
Jesus, our Lord! forgive us now.
Oh, let each following Sabbath yield
For our loved work an ampler field,
A sturdier hatred of the wrong,
A stronger purpose to grow strong.[199]
The Methodist Hymn-book contains contributions from several Methodist writers new to our authorized hymnal. Of those still living I will say nothing, but I cannot pass over the name of James Smetham (1821-89), whose tender, solemn lines, ‘While ebbing nature grieves,’ though they may rarely be sung in public, will be prized by many. Another of his hymns is in a different key. It is, perhaps, more suitable for congregational use—