FATHER, hear the prayer we offer! Not for ease that prayer shall be, But for strength that we may ever Live our lives courageously. Not forever in green pastures
Do we ask our way to be;
But the steep and rugged pathway May we tread rejoicingly. Not forever by still waters
Would we idly quiet stay; But would smite the living fountains From the rocks along our way. Be our strength in hours of weakness, In our wanderings, be our guide; Through endeavor, failure, danger, Father, be thou at our side!
Stockwell, 49. Beauty and duty. Benneson, 44.
ALL around us, fair with flowers, Fields of beauty sleeping lie; All around us clarion voices Call to duty stern and high-
Thankfully we will rejoice in All the beauty God has given;
But beware it does not win us
From the work ordained of Heaven.
Following every voice of mercy With a trusting, loving heart, Let us in life's earnest labor Still be sure to do our part.
Now, to-day, and not to-morrow, Let us work with all our might, Lest the wretched faint and perish In the coming stormy night.
Now, to-day, and not to-morrow,— Lest, before to-morrow's sun, We too, mournfully departing, Shall have left our work undone.
TELL me not in mournful numbers, Life is but an empty dream; For the soul is dead that slumbers, And things are not what they seem.
Life is real! life is earnest!
And the grave is not its goal: Dust thou art, to dust returnest, Was not spoken of the soul.
Not enjoyment, and not sorrow, Is our destined end and way; But to act, that each to-morrow Find us further than to-day. Let us, then, be up and doing, With a heart for any fate; Still achieving, still pursuing, Learn to labor, and to wait.
GOD of the earnest heart, The trust assured and still, Thou who our strength forever art,― We come to do thy will!
Upon that painful road By saints serenely trod, Whereon their hallowing influence flowed,
Would we go forth, O God!
'Gainst doubt and shame and fear In human hearts to strive, That all may learn to love and bear, To conquer self, and live;
To draw thy blessing down, And bring the wronged redress,
And give this glorious world its crown,— The spirit's God-likeness.
No dreams from toil to charm, No trembling on the tongue,- Lord, in thy rest may we be calm, Through thy completeness, strong!
Earnest toil and strong endeavor Of a spirit which, within, Wrestles with familiar evil
And besetting sin;
And, without, with tireless vigor, Steady heart, and purpose strong, In the power of Truth assaileth Every form of wrong.
may not be our lot to wield The sickle in the ripened field, Nor ours to hear on summer eves The reaper's song among the sheaves;
Yet where our duty's task is wrought In unison with God's great thought, The near and future blend in one, And whatsoe'er is willed is done!
Who calls the glorious labor hard? Who deems it not its own reward? Who, for its trials, counts it less A cause of praise and thankfulness? Be ours the grateful service whence Comes day by day the recompense,- The hope, the trust, the purpose stayed, The fountain and the noon-day shade! F. G. Whittier.
By the thorn-road, and none other, Is the mount of vision won: Tread it without shrinking, brother! Jesus trod it,-press thou on! By thy trustful, calm endeavor, Guiding, cheering, like the sun, Earth-bound hearts thou shalt deliver: O, for their sake, press thou on! Be this world the wiser, stronger, For thy life of pain and peace: While it needs thee, O, no longer Pray thou for thy quick release; Pray thou, undisheartened, rather, That thou be a faithful son; By the prayer of Jesus,-" Father, Not my will, but thine, be done!"
ONCE to every man and nation Comes the moment to decide, In the strife of Truth with Falsehood, For the good or evil side; Some great cause, God's new Messiah, Offers each the bloom or blight,- And the choice goes by forever "Twixt that darkness and that light.
Then to side with Truth is noble
When we share her wretched crust, Ere her cause bring fame and profit And 'tis prosperous to be just; Then it is the brave man chooses, While the coward stands aside. Till the multitude make virtue
Of the faith they had denied. Though the cause of Evil prosper, Yet 'tis Truth alone is strong; Though her portion be the scaffold, And upon the throne be Wrong,
Yet that scaffold sways the future, And, behind the dim unknown, Standeth God within the Shadow, Keeping watch above his own! 7. R. Lowell. Enlisted. Telemann, 41. HONORED they who firmly stand, While the conflict presses round; God's own banner in their hand, In his service faithful found. What our foes? Each thought impure; Passions fierce, that tear the soul; Every ill that we can cure; Every crime we can control;- Every suffering which our hand Can with soothing care assuage; Every evil of our land; Every error of our age.
On, then, to the glorious field! He who dies his life shall save; God himself shall be our shield, He shall bless and crown the brave.
The soldiers of the Cross are thine. While watching on our arms at night, We saw thine angels round us move; We heard thy call, we felt thy light, And followed, trusting to thy love. Send us where'er thou wilt, O Lord! Through rugged toil and wearying fight; Thy conquering love shall be our sword, And faith in thee our truest might. Send down thy constant aid, we pray; Be thy pure angels with us still; Thy Truth, be that our firmest stay; Our only rest, to do thy will.
O, BLEST is he to whom is given The instinct that can tell
That God is on the field, when h Is most invisible!
And blest is he who can divine
Where real right doth lie,
And dares to take the side that seems Wrong to man's blindfold eye!
O, learn to scorn the praise of men! O, learn to lose-with God!
For Jesus won the world through shame, And beckons thee his road.
And right is right, since God is God; And right the day must win: To doubt would be disloyalty, To falter would be sin!
Back to the field. Arlington, 19. Dundee, 22.
He always wins who sides with God, To him no chance is lost; God's will is sweetest to him when It triumphs at his cost.
Workman of God! O lose not heart, But learn what God is like; And in the darkest battle-field Thou shalt know where to strike.
Muse on his justice, downcast soul. Muse, and take better heart; Back with thine angel to the field, And bravely do thy part.
For right is right, since God is God; And right the day must win; To doubt would be disloyalty, To falter would be sin
The battle-field. Miss'y Chant, 16.
O, NERVE thy spirit to the proof, And blench not at thy chosen lot! The timid good may stand aloof, The sage may frown,-yet faint thou not. Heed not the shaft too surely cast, The foul and hissing bolt of scorn; For with thy side shall dwell, at last, The victory of endurance born. Old Error, wounded, writhes in pain, And dies amid her worshippers; Truth, crushed to earth, shall rise again; Th' eternal years of God are hers!
Ever first in freedom's van, Took his breast the sheaf of spears: Here is loss too deep for words, Here is grief too proud for tears. Onward, where he led the way! Many more will have to fall Ere the glorious banner waves Peace and triumph over all.
The bravest. Nuremburg, 39. ONE low grave, yon trees beneath, Bears no roses, wears no wreath; Yet no heart more high and warm Ever dared the battle-storm.
Never gleamed a prouder eye In the front of victory; Never foot had firmer tread On the field where hope lay dead, Than are hid within this tomb Where the untended grasses bloom; Where no colors wrapt the breast As a hero sank to rest. Heart of duty, dauntless will, Dreams that life could ne'er fulfil, Here lie buried,—here in peace Tireless service found release. Kneeling where a woman lies, Spent in willing sacrifice, I strew lilies on the grave Of the bravest of the brave.
I would not have the restless will That hurries to and fro, Seeking for some great thing to do, Or secret thing to know; I would be dealt with as a child, And guided where I go.
I ask thee for the daily strength To none that ask denied; A mind to blend with outward life While keeping at thy side; Content to fill a little space, If thou be glorified. Briers beset my every path,
That call for patient care; There is a cross in every lot,
An earnest need for prayer: But lowly hearts that lean on thee Are happy anywhere.
One by one. Stockwell, 49.
ONE by one the sands are flowing, One by one the moments fall: Some are coming, some are going; Do not strive to grasp them all. One by one thy duties wait thee,- Let thy whole strength go to each: Let no future dreams elate thee;
Learn thou first what these can teach. One by one, bright gifts from heaven, Joys are lent thee here below: Take them readily when given; Ready, too, to let them go.
One by one thy griefs shall meet thee,-- Do not fear an armèd band:
One will fade as others greet thee, Shadows passing through the land. Every hour that fleets so slowly Hath its task to do or bear: Luminous the crown and holy, If thou set each gem with care.
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