Though dark my path, and sad my lot,
Let me be still and murmur not;

And breathe the prayer divinely taught— "Thy will be done!"

What though in lonely grief I sigh
For friends belov'd no longer nigh,
Submissive still would I reply-

"Thy will be done!"

If thou shouldst call me to resign
What most I prize—it ne'er was mine ;
I only yield Thee what was Thine :
"Thy will be done!"

Should pining sickness waste away
My life in premature decay,
My Father-still I'll strive to say,
"Thy will be done!"

If but my fainting heart be blest
With Thy Spirit for its guest,
My God, to Thee I leave the rest,

"Thy will be done!"

Renew my will from day to day,
Blend it with Thine, and take away

All that now makes it hard to say,

"Thy will be done!"

Then, when on earth I breathe no more
The prayer oft mix'd with tears before,

I'll sing upon a happier shore,

"Thy will be done!"

C. Elliott

CXCIII

CONFIDENCE

Through the love of God, our Saviour,
All will be well;

Free and changeless is His favour;

All, all is well!

Precious is the Blood that heal'd us,
Perfect is the grace that seal'd us,
Strong the hand stretch'd out to shield us;
All must be well!

Though we pass through tribulation,

All will be well;

Ours is such a full salvation

All, all is well!

Happy, still in God confiding,

Fruitful, if in Christ abiding,

Holy, through the Spirit's guiding ;

All must be well!

We expect a bright to-morrow,

All will be well;

Faith can sing through days of sorrow,

All, all is well!

On our Father's love relying,

Jesus every need supplying,

Or in living, or in dying.

All must be well!

Anon.

CXCIV

THE CONQUEST OF PRIDE
I look'd with pride on what I'd done,
I counted merits o'er anew,

In presence of the burning sun,
Which drinks me like a drop of dew.
A lofty scorn I dared to shed
On human passions, hopes and jars,
I-standing on the countless dead,
And pitied by the countless stars.

But mine is now a humbled heart,
My lonely pride is weak as tears;
No more I seek to stand apart,
A mocker of the rolling years.
Imprison'd in this wintry clime,
I've found enough, O Lord, of breath,
Enough to plume the feet of time;
Enough to hide the eyes of death.

A. Smith

CXCV

PRIDE OF REASON

In pride, in reasoning pride our error lies;
All quit their sphere, and rush into the skies.
Pride still is aiming at the blest abodes,
Men would be angels, angels would be Gods.
Aspiring to be Gods, if angels fell,
Aspiring to be angels, men rebel ;
And who but wishes to invert the laws
Of order, sins against th' Eternal cause.

A. Pope

CXCVI

THE CALL

Child of sin and sorrow,
Fill'd with dismay,
Wait not for to-morrow,
Yield thee to-day!

Heaven bids thee come
While yet there's room :
Child of sin and sorrow,
Hear, and obey!

Child of sin and sorrow,

Why wilt thou die?

Come, while thou canst borrow

Help from on high !

Grieve not that love

Which from above,

Child of sin and sorrow,

Would bring thee nigh.

T. Hastings

CXCVII

PRAYER AT MIDNIGHT

The stars shine bright while earth is dark!
While all the woods are dumb,

How clear those far-off silver chimes
From tower and turret come.

Chilly but sweet, the midnight air :
And lo! with every sound,
Down from the ivy-leaf a drop

Falls glittering on the ground.

'Twas night when Christ was born on earth; Night heard his first, faint cry;

While angels caroll'd round the star
Of the Epiphany.

Alas! and is our love too weak
To meet Him on His way?
To pray for nations in their sleep?
For Love then let us pray.

Pray for the millions slumbering now;
The sick who cannot sleep;

O may those sweet sounds waft them thoughts
As peaceful, and as deep.

Pray for th' unholy, and the vain :
O, may that pure-toned bell
Disperse the demon powers of air,
And evil dreams dispel !

And ever let us wing our prayer
With praise and ever say,

Glory to God who makes the night
Benignant as the day!

A. D. Vere