We will not faint;-if heavy burdens bind us,
They press no harder than our souls can bear;
The thorniest way is lying still behind us, We shall be braver for the past despair.
O, not in doubt shall be our journey's ending!
Sin with its fears shall leave us at the last;
All its best hopes in glad fulfilment blending,
Life shall be with us when the death is past!
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.
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!
144. Blessed sorrows. Miss'y 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!
145. 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.
Shaping. Manoah, 26.
And such thy tender force be still, When self would swerve or stray; Shaping to truth the froward will Along thy narrow way.
Remoulded. Naomi, 28.
BENEATH thine hammer, Lord, I lie With contrite spirit prone:
O, 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; Thine 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.
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!
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.
I 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.
Stockwell, 49. 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.
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!
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-
The dearer trust. Azmon, 20. St. Agnes, 31.
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!
ANOTHER hand is beckoning us, Another call is given;
And glows once more with angel-steps The path that reaches heaven.
O, 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.
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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