NoT seldom, clad in radiant vest,
Deceitfully goes forth the morn;
Not seldom, evening in the west
Sinks smilingly forsworn.
The smoothest seas will sometimes prove,
To the confiding bark untrue;
And if she trust the stars above,
They can be treacherous too.
The umbrageous oak, in pomp outspread,
Full oft, when storms the welkin rend,
Draws lightning down upon the head
It promised to defend.
But Thou art true, incarnate Lord,
Who didst vouchsafe for man to die;
Thy smile is sure, Thy plighted word
No change can falsify.
I bent before Thy gracious throne,
And asked for peace, with suppliant knee; And peace was given,-nor peace alone, But faith, and hope, and ecstacy.
EVEN as the needle, that directs the hour,
Touch'd with the loadstone, by the secret power
Of hidden nature, points upon the Pole;
Even so the wavering powers of my soul,
Touched by the virtue of Thy Spirit, flee
From what is earth, and point alone to Thee;
When I have faith to hold Thee by the hand,
I walk securely, and methinks I stand
More firm than Atlas; but when I forsake
The safe protection of Thine arm, I quake
Like wind-shaked reeds, and have no strength at all;
But like a vine, the prop cut down, I fall.
O CHRIST, our hope, our hearts' desire,
Redemption's only spring;
Creator of the world art Thou,
Its Saviour and its King.
How vast the mercy and the love
Which laid our sins on Thee,
And led Thee to a cruel death,
To set Thy people free!
But now the bonds of death are burst,
The ransom hath been paid;
And Thou art on thy Father's throne,
In glorious robes array'd.
O Christ, be Thou our present joy,
Our future great reward;
Our only glory may it be
To glory in the Lord.
O LORD! munificent, benign,
How many mercies have been mine,
Since last I met with Thee,
In that blest ordinance of Thine,
The holy feast of Bread and Wine,
Which was enjoyed by me!
How many days, in goodness sent, Have been in sickening sadness spent! How many nights have come, Which promised rest and sweet content, Yet left behind them when they went
Distress and grief and gloom!
How many purposes have failed!
How many doubts my heart assailed,
And held my spirit fast!
How many sins have been bewailed!
How many follies have prevailed
Since I confessed the last!
But still to Thee my spirit springs,
And underneath Thy sheltering wings
A safe asylum seeks:
For this memorial sweetly brings
Remembrance of Thy sufferings,
And all Thy kindness speaks.
And, like a little child, I lay
My spirit at thy feet, and say,
"Lord, take it—it is thine;
Teach it to trust, to fear, to pray;
Feed it with love by night and day,
And let Thy will be mine."
THOU art the Way-to Thee alone
From sin and death we flee;
And he who would the Father seek,
Must seek Him, Lord, by Thee.
Thou art the Truth,-thy word alone
True wisdom can impart;
Thou only canst inform the mind,
And purify the heart.
Thou art the Life,-the rending tomb
Proclaims Thy conquering arm;
And they who put their trust in Thee,
Nor death nor hell can harm.
Thou art the Way, the Truth, the Life,-
Grant us that way to know,
That truth to keep, that life to win,
Whose joys eternal flow.
Он, cling not, trembler, to life's fragile bark:
It fills-it soon must sink:
Look not below, where all is chill and dark;
'Tis angony to think
Of that wild waste; but look, oh ! look above,
And see the outstretched arm of Love.
Cling not to this poor life; unlock thy clasp
Of fleeting, vapoury air.
The world receding, soon will mock thy grasp;
But let the wings of prayer
Take the blest breeze of heaven, and upward flee, And life from God shall enter thee.
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