If I drink of the waters, so peaceful and still, I try to walk always with Christ for my friend. THIS IS NOT YOUR REST. Is there not rest within our cottage dwelling? Is there not rest for one, whose best affection In strife and turmoil lies the world around: How beautifully bright the sunbeam glancing, Casts rosy radiance through the apple bloom; Wakening each flowret to more rich perfume! All is at rest-save one dear tone of gladness, I AM THE WAY, AND THE TRUTH, AND THE LIFE. 169 Yet even here a breath may blight the roses : May change, and pass as if it ne'er had been! “Here all thy best beloved may fade before thee; 66 'Here sin and death may sully all thy bliss: "Here bright hours fleet, which time may ne'er restore thee: "Look up-there is a surer rest than this, Only here live, on heavenly love relying, "And there thine earthly love shall live undying." From the Christian Keepsake. MORITZ ARNDT. I AM THE WAY, AND THE TRUTH, AND THE LIFE. FROM THE GERMAN. AMID life's wild commotion, Where nought the heart can cheer, Who points beyond its ocean To Heaven's brighter sphere? When doubts and fears distress us, Who can our souls illume? Heaven's rays are round us gleaming, And making all things bright, The sun of Truth is beaming, VOL. I. 3 L Who fills our heart with gladness Who stills the heart's wild strife? 'Tis Christ! our aid unfailing, The Way, the Truth, the Life. HYMN. FROM THE GERMAN. Go and dig a grave for me- To the sweet repose of heaven; Go, then, dig a grave for me, Why should I make longer stay In this shadowy vale of sorrow? Things that are our boast to-day Vanish from us on the morrowLike the sand before the wind, Leaving scarce a trace behind, Let me, then, in peace depart Let me quit this world for ever! Earthly pleasures leave a smart Time all earthly ties must severAnd its charms are empty show, Vain deceit, which ends in woe. HYMN Then farewell, with all your light, To where distant orbs are beaming You, who now in sorrow go, Farewell! all my heart holds dearest! Heavenly aid can sooth your woe, 'Mid the griefs that press the nearest. Weep not for the semblance vain, Nought on earth can long remain. Weep not that the hour is near Weep not! my Redeemer lives Far above this world of sadness; PAUL GERHARD. BORN, 1606; DIED, 1676. HYMN. FROM THE GERMAN. I SING the praises of thy name, 171 Who is it that has raised on high The glorious vault of heaven? Who, from the genial earth and sky, Soft dew and rain has given? Who warms us 'mid the wintry snows? Who can the breath of life sustain? Lord, from thy hand all blessings flow; Thou know'st each secret doubt and fear Which prompts the Christian's sigh; And thou wilt mark each silent tear, Though hid from human eye. The void of life thou dost supply Why should we then each night and day O cast thy load of care away Leave all things to His blessed will, |