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THE MOUNT.
When anxious cares corrode the breast,
And sad forebodings rise;
When sore temptations me molest,
And sorrow robs me of my rest;
Jesus! I trembling look to Thee,
And tearful turn to Calvary.

When griefs assail, and trials come,
When anguish aims its dart;
When earthly hopes have found a tomb—
Sweet thoughts of Heaven dispel my gloom
For, Jesus! then I look to thee,
And prayerful turn to Calvary.

When foes are fierce, friends found untrue,
When all is dark and drear;
I think on grace, and glory too—
How conquest out of conflict grew,
And, Jesus! then I look to Thee,
And grateful turn to Calvary.