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Our life is as a silver strand
Where waves of jasper roll,
And far beyond, the City lies,
Whose bells entrance the soul.

A silver strand, where blessings beat
As billows on the shore,

And leave no trace when they retreat,
But love forevermore.

For morning comes and evening goes;
But love through all the day,
Or rain, or shine, with life divine,
Melodious change doth play.

Our days enthrone the melody
Of God's abounding grace;

Our hearts shall play the accompaniment
Of his unceasing praise,

Whose dying love, all praise above,
Exceeds the power of thought,
While yet we lisp the immortal song,

By our Redeemer taught.

As stars upon the ocean keep

Their watch of love divine,

Would God such love might never sleep

Within this soul of mine!

That God would fill it as an urn,
With quenchless holy flame,

That far-off souls might catch the light,
And read His blessed name;

And as they spell the letters, hail
The ark of mercy there,

That shipwrecked men upon the sea
Might nevermore despair,

But evermore his love adore,
Made followers of the Lamb,
By faith to this dear refuge brought
From deepest guilt and shame!

O Love Divine, the atmosphere
In which our breath was given;
O Love Divine, celestial sphere
Of never-ending Heaven!

O Love Divine, may we in God
Its dearest meaning prove,
And its eternal glory know,
Through Jesus' dying love!

TW

1869.

WENTY-FOUR years the flowers of spring
Have had their growth and blossoming;

Twenty-four years the rising sun

Each day his perfect course hath run.

Twenty-four years my wife's dear love
Has kept the reckoning of the Dove;
Nor loss, nor change, nor gloom has known,
But brighter every hour hath shone.

Now, God be praised that gave to me
Twenty-four years such love to see;
That morning light or evening shade
No difference in its duty made.

But working still with calm delight,
And shining still by day and night,
Not lovelier in its annual sphere
Did ever star in heaven appear.

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