Like whispered voice to calm and bless
All unrest and all loneliness;
66 'Not as I will: " because the one
Who loved us first and best, has gone
Before us on the road, and still
For us will all his love fulfil,
"Not as we will."
Life's Question, and Faith's Answer.
Drifting away like mote on the stream;
To-day's disappointment, yesterday's dream;
Ever resolving never to mend;
Such is our progress; where is the end?
Whirling away like leaf in the wind ;
Points of attachment left daily behind;
Fixed to no principle, fast to no friend;
Such our fidelity; where is the end?
Floating away like cloud on the hill;
Pendulous, tremulous, migrating still;
Where to repose ourselves? whither to tend?
Such our consistency; where is the end?
Crystal the pavement under the stream;
Firm the reality under the dream;
We may not feel it, still we may mend;
How we have conquered not known till the end.
Bright leaves may scatter, sports of the wind;
But stands to the winter the great tree behind;
Frost shall not wither it, storms cannot bend;
Roots firmly clasping the rock at the end.
Calm is the firmament over the cloud;
Clear shine the stars through the rifts of the shroud;
There our repose shall be, thither we tend;
Spite of our waverings approved at the end.
Quiet from God! how beautiful to keep
This treasure, the All-merciful hath given; To feel, when we awake and when we sleep,
Its incense round us like a breath from heaven!
Who shall make trouble? Not the evil minds
Which like a shadow o'er creation lower;
The soul which peace hath thus attunèd finds
How strong within doth reign the Calmer's power.
What shall make trouble? Not the holy thought
Of the departed; that will be a part
Of those undying things his peace hath wrought
Into a world of beauty in the heart.
What shall make trouble? Not slow wasting pain,
Not the impending, certain stroke of death;
These do but wear away, then snap the chain
Which bound the spirit down to things beneath.
Dust unto dust, the heart makes cry;
Ashes to ashes doth reply.
Shall I see God when I shall die?
My hands are strong, the Lord God says,
My arms are wide, in many ways
My love draws on the better days.
Not in hard earth thou leav'st thine own,
Not in cold ground the life is thrown,
Where I am, none can be alone.
Wherefore, O heart, no longer say
Dust unto dust our own we lay,
Ashes to ashes leave to-day,
But with a faith set heavenward
Say, Life to life we have restored,
Spirit to spirit, God to God.
Sometime, when all life's lessons have been learned,
And sun and stars for evermore have set,
The things which our weak judgment here have spurned,
The things o'er which we grieved with lashes wet,
Will flash before us, out of life's dark night,
As stars shine most in deeper tints of blue;
And we shall see how all God's plans were right,
And how what seemed reproof was love most true.
And we shall see how, while we frown and sigh,
God's plans go on as best for you and me;
How, when we called, he heeded not our cry,
Because his wisdom to the end could see.
And e'en as prudent parents disallow
Too much of sweet to craving babyhood,
So God, perhaps, is keeping from us now
Life's sweetest things, because it seemeth good.
And if, sometimes, commingled with life's wine,
We find the wormwood, and rebel and shrink,
Be sure a wiser hand than yours or mine
Pours out this potion for our lips to drink.
And if some friend we love is lying low,
Where human kisses cannot reach his face,
Oh, do not blame the loving Father so,
But wear your sorrow with obedient grace!
And you will shortly know that lengthened breath
Is not the sweetest gift God sends his friends,
And that, sometimes, the sable pall of death
Conceals the fairest boon his love can send.
If we could push ajar the gates of life,
And stand within, and all God's workings see,
We could interpret all this doubt and strife,
And for each mystery could find a key!
But not to-day. Then be content, poor heart!
God's plans, like lilies, pure and white unfold;
We must not tear the close-shut leaves apart,
Time will reveal the chalices of gold.
And if, through patient toil, we reach the land
Where tired feet, with sandals loosed, may rest,
When we shall clearly know and understand,
I think that we will say, "God knew the best!"
May Riley Smith.
Oh! for the peace which floweth as a river,
Making life's desert places bloom and smile.
Oh! for a faith to grasp heaven's bright forever
Amid the shadows of earth's "little while."
A little while for patient vigil-keeping,
To face the storm, to wrestle with the strong; A little while to sow the seed with weeping,
Then bind the sheaves, and sing the harvest-song.
A little while midst shadow and illusion,
To strive, by faith, love's mysteries to spell;
Then read each dark enigma's bright solution,
Then hail sight's verdict, "He doth all things well!"
And he who is himself the Gift and Giver,
The future glory and the present smile,
With the bright promise of the glad "forever"
Will light the shadows of the "little while."
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