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ward one;

W. H, HURLBUT.

140. For strength.

Pilgrims, 61.

Whittier, 62. Father, in thy mysterious presence

kneeling, Fain would our souls feel all thy kind

ling love; For we are weak, and need some deep re

vealing Of trust, and strength, and calmness

from above. Lord, we have wandered forth through

doubt and sorrow, And thou hast made each step an onAnd we will ever trust each unknown

morrow, — Thou wilt sustain us till its work is done. In the heart's depths a peace serene and

holy Abides, and when pain seems to have

its will, Or we despair,—0, may that peace rise

slowly, Stronger than agony, and we be still ! Now, Father, now, in thy dear presence

kneeling, Our spirits yearn to feel thy kindling

love: Now make us strong! We need thy deep

revealing Of trust, and strength, and calmness

from above.

142. The eternal years. Logan, 25. How shalt thou bear the cross that now

So dread a weight appears?
Keep quietly to God, and think

Of the Eternal Years.
Brave quiet is the thing for thee,

Chiding thy faithless fears;
Learn to be real, from the thought

Of the Eternal Years.
Bear gently, suffer like a child,

Nor be ashamed of tears;
Thine oil of gladness is the thought

Of the Eternal Years.
He practises all virtue well,

Who his own cross reveres,
And lives in the familiar thought

Of the Eternal Years.

8. JOHNSON,

141. The might of faith, Pilgrims, 61. We will not weep; for God is standing

F W. FABER.

by us,

And tears will blind us to the blessed

sight. We will not doubt;—if darkness still doth

try us, Our souls have promise of serenest light.

143. Filial trust. Federal St., 10.
My God! I thank thee: may no thought
E’er deem thy chastisements severe;
But may this heart, by sorrow taught,
Calm each wild wish, each idle fear.

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Thy mercy bids all Nature bloom;
The sun shines bright, and man is gay ;
Thine equal mercy spreads the gloom
That darkens o'er his little day.
Full many a throb of grief and pain
Thy frail and erring child must know;
But not one prayer is breathed in vain,
Nor does one tear unheeded flow.
Thy various messengers employ!
Thy purposes of love fulfil!
And mid the wreck of human joy,
May kneeling faith adore thy will!

A, NORTON,

144. Blessed sorrows. Missy Chant, 16.
I BLESS thee, Lord, for sorrows sent
To break my dream of human power;
For now my shallow cistern 's spent,
I find thy founts, and thirst no more.
I take thy hand, and fears grow still;
Behold thy face, and doubts remove;
Who would not yield his wavering will
To perfect Truth and boundless Love?
That Love this restless soul doth teach
The strength of thine eternal calm;
And tune its sad and broken speech
To join, on earth, the angels' psalm.
O be it patient in thy hands,
And drawn, through each mysterious

hour,
To service of thy pure commands,
The narrow way to Love and Power!

146. Remoulded. Naomi, 28. BENEATH thine hammer, Lord, I lie

With contrite spirit prone: 0, mould me till to self I die,

And live to thee alone!
With frequent disappointments sore

And many a bitter pain,
Thou laborest at my being's core

Till I be formed again.
Smite, Lord! Thine hammer's needful

wound My baffled hopes confess; Thiñe anvil is the sense profound

Of mine own nothingness. Smite, till from all its idols free,

And filled with love divine, My heart shall know no good but thee,

And have no will but thine.

F. H, HEDGE.

S. JOHNSON,

145.

Shaping. Manoah, 26. FATHER, in memory's fondest place

I shrine those seasons sad,
When, looking up, I saw thy face

In kind austereness clad.
I would not miss one sigh or tear,

Heart-pang or throbbing brow;
Sweet was the chastisement severe,

And sweet its memory now.

147. They that mourn. Logan, 25. O WORD divine, like healing balms

To hearts oppressed and torn, Thy heavenly consolation falls—

“Blessed are they that mourn!” To every hope by sorrow crushed

A nobler faith succeeds;
And life, by trials furrowed, bears

The fruit of loving deeds.
Who never mourned, hath never known

What treasures grief reveals:
The sympathies that humanize,

The tenderness that heals;
The power to look within the veil

And learn the heavenly lore,
The key-word to life's mysteries,

So dark to us before;

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Would we ask why? It is because all noblest things are born

In agony.

Only upon some cross of pain or woe

God's son may lie; Each soul redeenied from self and sin

must know

Its Calvary.
Yet more than feeble hearts can ever pine

For holiness,
The Father, in his tenderness divine,

Yearneth to bless.
What though we fall, and bruised and

wounded lie,

Our lips in dust?
God's arm shall lift us up to victory:

In him we trust.
For neither life, nor death, nor things

below,

Nor things above,
Shall ever sever us that we should go

From his great love!

Ellacombe, 53. 150. Into the shadows. Webb, 54. AROUND my path life's mysteries

Their deepening shadows throw; And as I gaze and ponder,

They dark and darker grow. Yet hark! a voice above me,

Which says, “Wait, trust, and pray; The night will soon be over,

And light will come with day." Amen! the light and darkness

Are both alike to thee,Then to thy waiting servant

Alike they both shall be. That great unending future !

I cannot pierce its shroud; But I nor doubt, nor tremble,

God's bow is on the cloud.
To him I yield my spirit;

On him I lay my load:
Fear ends with death; beyond it

I nothing see but God.
Thus moving towards the darkness,

I calmly wait his call;
Seeing and fearing nothing,

Hoping and trusting all!

FRANCES P. COBBE.

S, GREG.

149. Brightening skies. Mann, 14.
NEVER, my heart, wilt thou grow old!
My hair, be white; my blood, run cold;
And one by one, my powers, depart!
But youth sits smiling in my heart.
Downhill the path of age! O, no:
Up, up, with patient steps I go;
I watch the skies fast brightening there,
I breathe a sweeter, purer air.

151. Safe to the land. Stephanos, 72. I know not if or dark or bright

Shall be my lot;
If that wherein my hopes delight

Be best or not.

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My bark is wafted from the strand

By breath divine,
And on the helm there rests a hand

Other than mine.
How can I fear the storm to sail,

With him on board ?
Above the raging of the gale

I hear my Lord.
He holds me when the billows smite;

I shall not fall.
If sharp, 'tis short; if long, 'tis light;

He tempers all.
Safe to the land! Safe to the land,

Unknown, but there!
And then with him go, hand in hand,
On, anywhere!

H. Alford.

Stockwell, 49. 153.

Easter.

Benneson, 44. STANDING on the shore at morning,

I beheld the shining sea,
Saw the wreathing vapors mounting

Into heaven silently.
Standing on the hill at evening,

Clouds stooped gently over me,
Softly from the west ascending,

And the rain fell silently.
So, I cried, my Spirit's incense

Sure returneth unto me;
Upward breathing, falls in blessing

From our Father, silently.
So my life up-striving, soaring,

Where nor eye nor thought can see,
Comes again descending on me,

Filled with immortality.
And the bliss of hope awakens;

Earth and sky I clearer see;
And I carol, in my gladness,

Joyful hymn and melody.

J. V. BLAKE.

152,

Assured. Manoah, 26. VI LONG for household voices gone,

For vanished smiles I long;
But God hath led my dear ones on,

And he can do no wrong.
I know not what the future hath

Of marvel and surprise,
Assured alone that life and death
His

mercy underlies.
And if my heart and flesh are weak

To bear an untried pain,
The bruised reed he will not break,

But strengthen and sustain.
I know not where his islands lift

Their fronded palms in air;
I only know I cannot drift

Beyond his love and care.
And so beside the Silent Sea

I wait the muffled oar;
No harm from him can come to me

On ocean or on shore.

154. Immortality Russian, 71. FATHER Omnipotent! joyful and thankful,

Bring we the praises to thee belong; Hopefulness, joyfulness in thy great mercy Fill our waked spirits with sounding

song. Hallowed and heavenly, Light shines

immortal

Through Life's open portal: Open to faithfulness, open to sorrow,

Open to vision of saint and seer! Death, where thy victory? where thy

great anguish? Hope cometh mighty, outcasting fear! O hope victorious! on us descending,

Earth and heaven blending!

J.G, WHITTIER.

Glory and majesty break forth upon us,

Like unto splendors of morning skies! Light beatifical! Life everlasting !

With thy great glory on us arise; Lighten our heaviness, shine on our sor

row,

Life's eternal morrow!

For longer life I will not pray,
I will not ask another day;
For the dear Father even yet
New chance may give, new tasks may set.
Beyond the grave, to thee more true,
O, give me still thy work to do;
The power to serve thou’lt surely spare;
Shall not thy service wait me there?

J. V. BLAKE.

MRS. L. J. HALL.

Azmon, 20.

The dearer trust. St. Agnes, 31.

155.

My God, I rather look to thee

Than to my fancy fond,
And wait, till thou reveal to me

That fair and far Beyond.
I seek not of thy Eden-land

The forms and hues to know, What trees in mystic order stand,

What strange, sweet waters flow; What duties fill the heavenly day,

Or converse glad and kind; Or how along each shining way

The bright processions wind. O, sweeter far to trust in thee

'While all is yet unknown, And through the death-dark cheerily

To walk with thee alone! In thee, my powers, my treasures live;

To thee my life must tend; Giving thyself, thou all dost give,

O soul-sufficing Friend!

157. Gone before. Manoah, 26. ANOTHER hand is beckoning us,

Another call is given; And glows once more with angel-steps

The path that reaches heaven. 0, half we deemed she needed not

The changing of her sphere, To give to heaven a shining one,

Who walked an angel here! Alone unto our Father's will

One thought hath reconciled,
That he whose love exceedeth ours

Hath taken home his child.
Fold her, O Father! in thine arms,

And let her henceforth be
A messenger of love between

Our human hearts and thee.
Still let her mild rebuking stand

Between us and the wrong,
And her dear memory serve to make

Our faith in Goodness strong.

ELIZA SCUDDER.

J. G. WHITTIER.

156. Service hereafter. Germany, 11.
I would my work were better done;
I would it were but just begun;
For, listening where I waiting stand,
Comes music from the Better Land.
O busy hand and heart and brain,
Why have ye toiled so long in vain?
I feel that unknown world so near!
And yet mv snirit ļnows no fear.

158. The silent land. Miss'y Chant, 16.
God giveth quietness at last!
The common way once more is passed
From pleading tears and lingerings fond
To fuller life and love beyond.
What to shut eyes hath God revealed ?
What hear the ears that death has sealed ?
What undreamed beauty passing show
Requites the loss of all we know?

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