His purposes will ripen fast, The bud may have a bitter taste, Blind unbelief is sure to err, And He will make it plain. W. Cowper VIII THE EMIGRANTS SACRED SONG Where the remote Bermudas ride From a small boat that row'd along, The listening winds received their song. “What should we do but sing His praise "Where He the huge sea-monsters racks, That lift the deep upon their backs; He lands us on a grassy stage, Safe from the storm's and tyrant's rage. "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, And all the way, to guide their chime, IX THE LOVE OF GOD Blest be Thy love, dear Lord, That taught us this sweet way Only to love Thee for Thyself, And for that love obey. O Thou, our soul's chief hope! Where'er we are, Thou canst protect, Whether we sleep or wake, Whether we live, or die, 7. Austin X GOD THE ONLY COMFORTER O Thou that driest the mourner's tear, The friends who in our sunshine live, But Thou wilt heal the broken heart, When joy no longer soothes, or cheers, 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 T. Moore XI A PRAYER Imitated from the Persian Lord! who art merciful as well as just, Father Almighty, who hast made me man, And bade me look to heaven, for Thou art there, Accept my sacrifice and humble prayer. Four things which are not in Thy treasury, R. Southey XII THY WILL BE DONE Father, I know that all my life Is portion'd out for me, And the changes that are sure to come I do not fear to see ; But I ask Thee for a present mind, Intent on pleasing Thee. I ask Thee for a thoughtful love, I would not have the restless will I would be treated as a child, Wherever in the world I am, I have a fellowship with hearts And a work of lowly love to do, From the Lord on whom I wait. And if some things I do not ask I would have my spirit fill'd the more 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. |