For ever and for ever all in a blessèd home, And there to wait a little while, till you and Effie come To lie within the light of God, as I lie upon your breast, And the wicked cease from troubling, and the weary are at rest. CLXV A. Tennyson LITTLE WILLIE Poor little Willie, With his many pretty wiles; In a workhouse grave. You remember little Willie, Sprang like a lily From the dirt of poverty. Not a friend was nigh, He crouch'd down to die. In the day we wander'd foodless, Parted at the workhouse door, Ah! so tired was poor Willie ! 'Twas in the dead of winter We laid him in the earth; The world brought in the new year On a tide of mirth. But, for lost little Willie Not a tear we crave; Cold and hunger cannot wake him We thought him beautiful, Down, down, poor heart! In his workhouse grave. No room for little Willie ; In the world he had no part; Be a workhouse grave. Gerald Massey VI THE HEART CLXVI CHRIST TO THE SINNER Hark, my soul! it is the Lord, "I deliver'd thee when bound, And, when bleeding, heal'd thy wound; Sought thee wandering, set thee right, Turn'd thy darkness into light. "Can a woman's tender care Cease towards the child she bare? Yes, she may forgetful be, “Mine is an unchanging love, “Thou shalt see my glory soon, Lord, it is my chief complaint, W. Cowper CLXVII SUBMISSION O Lord! how happy should we be How far from this our daily life! ; By sudden wild alarms Our earthly props, and simply fall On Thy almighty arms! Could we but kneel and cast our load, Then rise with lightened cheer, We cannot trust Him as we should, Yet birds and flow'rets round us preach, Lord, make these faithless hearts of ours Leave all things to a Father's will, Child's Christian Year CLXVIII THE STRANGER Behold! a Stranger's at the door! But will He prove a Friend indeed? If thou art poor, (and poor thou art,) Not wealth, in which mean avarice rolls; |