TRUST AND РЕАСЕ. LOOKING UNTO GOD. "God's hand in all things, and all things in God's hand." I LOOK to Thee in every need, And never look in vain ; I feel Thy touch, Eternal Love, The thought of Thee is mightier far Discouraged in the work of life, But let me only think of Thee, And then new heart springs up in me. Thy calmness bends serene above, To nerve my faltering will; Thy presence fills my solitude; Embosomed deep in Thy dear love, Thy hand in all things I behold, SAMUEL LONGFELLOW. GRATEFULNESSE. HOU that hast given so much to me, THOU Give one thing more, a gratefull heart. Not thankfull, when it pleaseth me, Thy praise. GEORGE HERBERT. FA THE SON. `ATHER, I wait Thy word. The sun doth stand The tongue of time abides the appointed hour, The bird reposes on the yielding bough, With breast unswollen by the tide of song; So does my spirit wait Thy presence now To pour Thy praise in quickening life along, Chiding with voice divine man's lengthened sleep, While round the Unuttered Word and Love their vigils keep. JONES VERY. ALL'S WELL. PROPHETIC Hope, thy fine discourse Foretold not half life's good to me; Thy painter, Fancy, hath not force Thy witching dream And pictured scheme To match the fact still want the power; From birth to grave Life's boon may beggar in an hour. Ask and receive, -'tis sweetly said; Yet what to plead for know I not; For Wish is worsted, Hope o'ersped, And aye to thanks returns my thought. I've naught to say But this, that God may be God still, For Him to live Is still to give, And sweeter than my wish His will. O wealth of life beyond all bound! What plummet may the Present sound? In blackest night, or brightest day, Of golden good,. And more than heartfull fills me aye. My wealth is common; I possess No petty province, but the whole; What's mine alone is mine far less Than treasure shared by every soul. Talk not of store, Millions or more, of values which the purse may hold, – But this divine ! I own the mine Whose grains outweigh a planet's gold. I have a stake in every star, In every beam that fills the day; All hearts of men my coffers are, My ores arterial tides convey; The fields, the skies, The sweet replies Of thought to thought are my gold-dust, — The oaks, the brooks, And speaking looks Of lovers' faith and friendship's trust. Life's youngest tides joy-brimming flow The seraphim Might hark to hear or help to sing, The boundless whole Its bounty all doth daily bring. "All mine is thine," the sky-soul saith; "The wealth I am, must thou become; Mine also is, Life's gift outruns my fancies far, And drowns the dream In larger stream, As morning drinks the morning-star. DAVID A. WASSON, 1856. BLEST BE THY LOVE. BLEST be thy love, dear Lord, That taught us this sweet way, Only to love Thee for Thyself. |