Yet birds and flowerets round us preach, Sufficient for the day. Lord, make these faithless hearts of ours Leave all things to a Father's will, E'en in affliction peace. Child's Christian Year CLXVIII THE STRANGER EHOLD! a Stranger's at the door! B gently atocked before, Has waited long, is waiting still; But will He prove a Friend indeed? If thou art poor, (and poor thou art,) Not wealth, in which mean avarice rolls; O better far! the wealth of souls! Thou 'rt blind; He'll take the scales away, And let in everlasting day; Naked thou art; but He shall dress Thy blushing soul in Righteousness. Art thou a weeper? Grief shall fly; Admit Him, for the human breast Admit Him, ere His anger burn; When at His door denied you 'll stand. J. Grigg CLXIX I THE VOICE OF JESUS HEARD the voice of Jesus say, Lay down, thou weary one, lay down Thy head upon My breast." I came to Jesus as I was, Weary, and worn, and sad, I heard the voice of Jesus say, "Behold! I freely give The living water; thirsty one, Stoop down, and drink, and live!" I came to Jesus, and I drank Of that life-giving stream; My thirst was quenched, my soul revived, And now I live in Him. I heard the voice of Jesus say, H. Bonar WTT CLXX AFFLICTION WITHIN this leaf, to every eye Most rare and subtle fragrancy. Wouldst thou its secret strength unbind? Crush it, and thou shalt perfume find, Sweet as Arabia's spicy wind. In this stone, so poor and bare But first must skilful hands essay This leaf? this stone? It is thy heart: Ere it will yield a fragrance sweet, Bishop Wilberforce CLXXI H THE HEART'S HOME ARK! hark! my soul ! angelic songs are swelling O'er earth's green fields and ocean's wave-beat shore, How sweet the truth those blessed strains are telling, Of that new life, when sin shall be no more. Darker than night life's shadows fall around us, Onward we go, for still we hear them singing, Far, far away, like bells at evening pealing, Rest comes at last, though life be long and dreary, And heaven, the heart's true home, will come at last. F. W. Faber CLXXII THE HEART'S LONGING PARADISE! O Paradise! Who doth not crave for rest! All rapture through and through, 'Tis weary waiting here: O Paradise! O Paradise! We want to sin no more; As on thy spotless shore; All rapture through and through, In God's most holy sight. F. W. Faber |