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Ah! God is other than we think ;
His ways are far above, Far beyond reason's height, and reached
Only by childlike love.
Workman of God! 0, lose not heart,
But learn what God is like ; And in the darkest battle-field
Thou shalt know where to strike.
Not as you meant, О learned man, and good !
Do I accept thy words of truth and rest;
God, knowing all, knows what for me is best, And gives me what I need, not what he could,
Nor always as I would !
Him and the Elder Brother face to face,
Not as a homesick child who all day long
Thrice blest is he to whom is given
The instinct that can tell
HARRIET WINSLOW ŞEWALL.
If for a time some loved one goes away,
Not by deeds that gain the world's applauses, And leaves us our appointed work to do,
Not by works that win thee world-renown,
Not by martyrdom or vaunted crosses,
Canst thou win and wear the immortal crown.
The absence brief by doing well our task, Every day a rich reward will give;
And truly loving, thou canst truly live.
When all nature hails the Lord of light,
Gladdens hall and hovel, vale and height?
Proud proprietors in pomp may shine,
But with fervent love if thou adorest,
Yet I'm not homesick, and the children here Sighing that they are not thine alone,
And their beauty and thy wealth are gone.
Counting God's mercies to me. He who bore
Life's heaviest cross is mine forevermore,
THE LOVE OF GOD.
Thou Grace Divine, encircling all,
A soundless, shoreless sea !
Wherein at last our souls must fall,
O Love of God most free!
When over dizzy heights we go,
One soft hand blinds our eyes,
O Love of God most wise !
And though we turn us from thy face,
And wander wide and long,
Thou hold'st us still in thine embrace,
O Love of God most strong!
The saddened heart, the restless soul,
The toilworn frame and mind,
Alike confess thy sweet control,
O Love of God most kind !
But not alone thy care we claim,
Our wayward steps to win;
We know thee by a dearer name,
O Love of God within !
And filled and quickened by thy breath,
Our souls are strong and free
To rise o'er siņ and fear and death,
O Love of God, to thee !
MY TIMES ARE IN THY HAND.
THE SOUL'S DEFIANCE.
FATHER, I know that all my life
Is portioned out for me,
I do not fear to see ;
Intent on pleasing thee.
I SAID to Sorrow's awful storm
That beat against my breast,
And lay it low at rest;
Thy tempest, raging high,
With steadfast eye.
I ask thee for a thoughtful love,
Through constant watching wise, To meet the glad with joyful smiles,
And to wipe the weeping eyes ; And a heart at leisure from itself,
To soothe and sympathize.
I said to Penury's meager train,
Come on, — your threats I brave; My last poor life-drop you may drain,
And crush me to the grave ; Yet still the spirit that endures
Shall mock your force the while, And meet each cold, cold grasp of yours
With bitter smile.
I would not have the restless will
That hurries to and fro,
Or secret thing to know;
And guided where I go.
Wherever in the world I am,
In whatsoe'er estate, I have a fellowship with hearts
To keep and cultivate ; And a work of lowly love to do,
For the Lord on whom I wait.
I said to cold Neglect and Scorn,
I heed you not; Ye may pursue me till my form
And being are forgot ; Yet still the spirit, which you see
Undaunted by your wiles, Draws from its own nobility
Its highborn smiles.
So I ask thee for the daily strength,
To none that ask denied ; And a mind to blend with outward life,
While keeping at thy side, Content to fill a little space,
If thou be glorified.
I said to Friendship’s menaced blow, Strike deep,
my heart shall bear; Thou canst but add one bitter woe
To those already there ;
This last severe distress
And scorn redress.
And if some things I do not ask
In my cup of blessing be,
With grateful love to thee;
Than to please thee perfectly.
There are briers besetting every path,
Which call for patient care ; There is a cross in every lot,
And an earnest need for prayer; But a lowly heart that leans on thee
Is happy anywhere.
I SAW THEE.
“When thou wast under the fig-tree, I saw thee."
In a service which thy love appoints,
There are no bonds for me, For my secret heart is taught " the truth"
That makes thy children “free”; And a life of self-renouncing love
Is a life of liberty.
I SAW thee when, as twilight fell,
I saw thee when thou stoodst alone, Where drooping branches thick o’erhung,
ANNA L. WARING.
Give me a voice, a cry and a complaining,
0, let my sound be stormy in their ears !
Throat that would shout but cannot stay for CHRIST! I am Christ's! and let the name suffice straining, you,
Eyes that would weep but cannot wait for tears. Ay, for me too he greatly hath sufficed : Lo, with no winning words I would entice you,
Quick in a moment, infinite forever, Paul has no honor and no friend but Christ.
Send an arousal better than I pray ;
Give me a grace upon the faint endeavor, Yes, without cheer of sister or of daughter,
Souls for my hire and Pentecost to-day ! Yes, without stay of father or of son,
Hark what a sound, and too divine for hearing, Lone on the land and homeless on the water,
Stirs on the earth and trembles in the air ! Pass I in patience till the work be done.
Is it the thunder of the Lord's appearing ?
Is it the music of his people's prayer ?
Surely he cometh, and a thousand voices 0, not in solitude, if souls that hear me
Shout to the saints and to the deaf are dumb; Catch from my joyance the surprise of joy.
Surely hé cometh, and the earth rejoices,
Glad in his coming who hath sworn, I come. Hearts I have won of sister or of brother,
Quick on the earth or hidden in the sod, This hath he done, and shall we not adore him ? Lo, every heart awaiteth me, another
This shall he do, and can we still despair ? Friend in the blameless family of God.
Come, let us quickly fling ourselves before him,
Cast at his feet the burden of our care, What was their sweet desire and subtle yearning,
Lovers, and ladies whom their song enrolls ? Flash from our eyes the glow of our thanksgiving, Faint to the flame which in my breast is burning, Glad and regretful, confident and calm ; Less than the love with which I ache for souls. Then through all life and what is after living
Thrill to the tireless music of a psalm.