Our loaded wain comes winding home- And watch the evening shadows fade: And twilight glories melt away. God of the world, who round Thy curtain throws, Thanks for the time of quiet and repose! How still is Nature all around! No song is sung, no voice is heard, Whose spell diffuses far and wide; We bless Thee for the gifts we ne'er can pay ! "MY BELOVED IS MINE, AND I AM HIS." REV. H. F. LYTE. LONG did I toil, and knew no earthly rest Far did I rove, and found no certain home; Yes! He is mine! And nought of earthly things, Not all the charms of pleasure, wealth, or power, The fame of heroes, or the pomp of kings, Could tempt me to forego His love an hour: Go, worthless world—I cry—with all that's thine! Go! I my Saviour's am, and He is mine! The good I have is from His stores supplied— He for my friend, I'm rich with nought beside, And poor without Him, though of all possess'd. Changes may come—I take, or I resign, Content while I am His, while He is mine! Whate'er may change, in Him no change is seen— A glorious Sun that wanes not nor declines; And sweetly on His people's darkness shines, He stays me falling-lifts me up when' down; While here, alas! I know but half His love, Q "PRAY WITHOUT CEASING." “PRAY without ceasing!"-pray, E'en in the hours of sleep Thy God his watch will keep With never-tiring love. When morning dawns, and at the day's decline, And in the noon, be raised that prayer of thine. "Pray without ceasing!”—pray! All day and all night long. And aid Divine implore! Look ever upward to the strong for strength, Be more than conqueror in His name at length. Now" Pray!—and in Jesus' name Still let each prayer be made; Thy sorrow and thy sin, strong in faith," this very hour believe, And all thy God can offer thee, receive. Pray! thousands are around For them be heard thy call. E'en in the busy street, Where heedless thousands press, Thy Saviour marks thy feet; He comes thy soul to bless! Try-thou may'st hold sweet communings with Him Amid that crowded city's busy din. 66 Pray without ceasing!"-pray! The helpless and the weak, And babes who cannot speak- Oh, lift thy glance to where Thy Saviour intercedes! That Lord inspires and loves the suppliant tone; But ask not blessings for thyself alone! |