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Chap. iii. 17, 18.
though the fig-tree should no burden bear, JL Though vines delude the promise of the year; Yet though the olive should not yield her oil, Nor the parched glebe reward the peasant's toil; Though the tired ox beneath his labors fall, And herds in millions perish from the stall! Yet shall my grateful strings Forever praise Thy name, Forever Thee proclaim The everlasting God, the mighty King of kings.
'""T'HOU canst accomplish all things, Lord of might:
JL And every thought is naked to Thy sight.
THE WATERS OF BABYLON
BUT on before me swept the moonlit stream
THE ANGELS' SONG
IT came upon the midnight clear,
To touch their harps of gold:
Still through the cloven sky they come
With peaceful wings unfurled; And still their heavenly music floats
O'er all the weary world: Above its sad and lowly plains
They bend on heavenly wing, And ever o'er its Babel sounds
The blessed angels sing.
Yet with the woes of sin and strife
The world has suffered long; Beneath the angel strain have rolled
Two thousand years of wrong; And men, at war with men, hear not
The love-song which they bring: O! hush the noise, ye men of strife,
And hear the angels sing!
And ye, beneath life's crushing load Whose forms are bending low,
Who toil along the climbing way
With painful steps and slow;
Come swiftly on the wing:
And hear the angels sing!
For lo! the days are hastening on,
By prophet-bards foretold, When with the ever-circling years
Comes round the age of gold;
Its ancient splendors fling,
Which now the angels sing.
E. H. Sears
WHEN, marshalled on the nightly plain,
Hark ! hark! to God the chorus breaks
From every host, from every gem; But one alone the Saviour speaks,
It is the star of Bethlehem.
Once on the raging seas I rode,
The storm was loud, the night was dark,
The ocean yawned, — and rudely blowed The wind that tossed my foundering bark:
Deep horror then my vitals froze,
Death-struck, I ceased the tide to stem,
When suddenly a star arose,
It was my guide, my light, my all;
It bade my dark forebodings cease; And through the storm, and danger's thrall,
It led me to the port of peace.
Now safely moored, my perils o'er,
Forever and forevermore,
The star! the star of Bethlehem!
H. Kirke White
THE SEA OF GALILEE
HOW pleasant to me thy deep blue wave,
For the Glorious One, who came to save,
Fair are the lakes in the land I love,
Where pine and heather grow; But thou hast loveliness far above
What Nature can bestow.
It is not that the wild gazelle
Comes down to drink thy tide;
Oft wandered by thy side.