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His purposes will ripen fast,
The bud may have a bitter taste,
Blind unbelief is sure to err,
God is His own interpreter,
THE EMIGRANTS SACRED SONG
Where the remote Bermudas ride
"What should we do but sing His praise
"Where He the huge sea-monsters racks,
"He gave us this eternal spring
"He hangs in shades the orange bright,
"Oh! let our voice His praise exalt
Thus sang they in the English boat,
THE LOVE OF GOD
Blest be Thy love, dear Lord,
O Thou, our soul's chief hope!
Whether we sleep or wake,
Whether we live, or die,
x GOD THE ONLY COMFORTER
O Thou that driest the mourner's tear,
If, when deceived and wounded here,
The friends who in our sunshine live,
And he who has but tears to give,
But Thou wilt heal the broken heart,
Their fragrance from the wounded part,
When joy no longer soothes, or cheers,
A moment's sparkle o'er our tears,
Oh! who could bear life's stormy doom,
Did not Thy wing of love Come brightly wafting through the gloom,
One peace-branch from above?
Then sorrow touch'd by Thee grows bright
As darkness shows us worlds of light
Imitated from the Persian
Lord! who art merciful as well as just,
Alas! but what I can.
Accept my sacrifice and humble prayer.
THY WILL BE DONE
Father, I know that all my life
Is portion'd out for me,
I do not fear to see;
Intent on pleasing Thee.
I ask Thee for a thoughtful love,
To meet the glad with joyful smiles
And a heart at leisure from itself,
I would not have the restless will
That hurries to and fro;
A secret thing to know:
And guided where I go.
Wherever in the world I am,
In whatsoe'er estate,
To keep and cultivate,
From the Lord on whom I wait.
And if some things I do not ask
In my cup of blessing be, I would have my spirit fill'd the more
With grateful love to Thee; More careful, not to serve Thee much,
But to please Thee perfectly.
There are briars besetting every path
That call for patient care; There is a cross in every lot,
And an earnest need for prayer; But a lowly heart, that leans on Thee,
Is happy anywhere.