I believe in God the Father Almighty,

Maker of Heaven and Earth.

STRENGTH IN WEAKNESS.

JATHER! for Thy kindest word

Thankful songs to Thee I sing,

Sick at heart with hope deferred,

All my cause to Thee I bring.

Sweet the sound I hear from Thee,

Cast thy burden upon Me.

As a father, bending low,
Listens to his lisping child,

So to me Thy pity show,

By the world and sin beguiled.
Holy is Thy law, and just ;
Yet remember I am dust.

Spare me, Thou who lov'st to spare!
Gently on me lay Thy hand!
Grasp the bruisèd reed with care!

Let the smoking flax be fanned;

Firm my faltering steps uphold; Tried, let me come forth like gold.

Oh remember Him who died, With His life my soul to save; Let me clasp the Crucified,

Till I reach the awful grave; Then, the light affliction o'er, Heaven is mine forevermore !

I SAID.

HEN apple-blossoms in the spring Began their fragrant leaves to shed, And robins twittered on the wing, "T is time to sow my seeds," I said.

So, patiently, with care and pains,
My nurslings under-ground I spread.
"The early and the latter rains

Will reach them where they lie," I said.

"The sun will nurse them, and the dew;
The sweet winds woo them overhead.
No care of mine shall coax them through
This black, unsightly mould," I said.

And so I left them; day by day,

To gentle household duties wed,

I went in quiet on my way:

"God will take care of them," I said.

And now 't is autumn; rich and bright

My garden blooms, blue, white, and red;

A loyal show! a regal sight!

And all is even as I said.

My faithless heart! the lesson heed;
No longer walk disquieted ;-
Where the Great Sower sows the seed,
All shall be even as He said.

"T is spring-time yet; behold, the years Roll grandly in, God overhead,

When Thou shalt say, "Oh, bootless fears! Lo! all is even as He said."

THE COMPASS.

HOU art, O God, my East! In Thee
I dawned:

Within me ever let Thy day-spring

shine!

Then for each night of sorrow I have mourned, I'll bless Thee, Father, since it seals me Thine.

Thou art, O God, my North! My trembling soul,

Like a charmed needle, points to Thee alone; Each wave of time, each storm of life, shall roll My trusting spirit forward to Thy throne.

Thou art, O God, my South! Thy fervent love Perennial verdure o'er my life hath shed,

And constant sunshine from Thy heart of love, With wine and oil Thy grateful child hath fed.

Thou art, O God, my West! Into Thy arms, Glad as the setting sun, may I decline; Baptized from earthly storms and sin's alarms, Re-born, arise in Thy new heavens to shine.