F 462ft fc53 5 FROM THE LIBRARY OF REV. LOUIS FITZGERALD BENSON. D. D. BEQUEATHED BY HIM TO THE LIBRARY OF PRINCETON THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY Divfeiaa Section SO TIRED AND OTHER VERSES N>' ^TofT JAN 15 1934 SO TIRED AND OTHER VERSES //* M. E. TOWNS END AUTHOR OF 'LITANIES,' AND CONTRIBUTOR TO 'VOICES OF COMFORT* NEW AND ENLARGED EDITION LONDON LONGMANS, GREEN, AND CO. AND NEW YORK : 15 EAST i6th ST. 1894 Edinburgh : T. and A. Constable, Printers to Her Majesty TO €♦ 99. Ifc- J/K EARLIEST FRIEND THIS LITTLE BOOK IS INSCRIBED Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2013 http://archive.org/details/sotireOOtown CONTENTS So Tired .... Wai i o\ the Lord The Room was full of Angels Sleep, sleep, my Heart ! Some Day ! Dead Love .... Recompensed .... To a Picture of the Virgin and Child The Bruised Reed The Vineyard The Pilgrims' Song Remember ! Dreamland's Flowers . A Lover's Offering The Sunbeam A Christmas Carol I'AGK I J J 4 6 8 io 12 14 16 19 22 24 26 28 30 32 Vlll CONTENTS Far from Home and Country A Wedding Carol A Lacemaker's vSong 'There are Lilies!' To the Emperor Frederick hi. Jesu, Lord, Thy Love impart Thy Grave .... The Watchman PAGE 33 36 38 40 42 47 49 52 w SO tired : I fain would rest ; But, Lord, Thou knowest best, I wait on Thee. I will toil on from day to day Bearing my Cross, and only pray To follow Thee. So tired : my friends are gone And I am left alone, And days are sad. Lord Jesus, Thou wilt bear my load Along this steep and dreary road, And make me glad. So tired : my heart is low, Shadows of coming woe Around me fall. And memories of sins long wept, And hopes denied that long have slept, Arise and call. SO TIRED So tired : yet I would work For Thee ! — Lord, hast Thou work Even for me ? Small things — which others, hurrying on In Thy blest service, swift and strong, Might never see ? So tired : yet I might reach A flower, to cheer and teach Some sadder heart ; Or for parched lips perhaps might bring One cup of water from the spring, Ere I depart. So tired : yet it were sweet Some faltering tender feet To help and guide. Thy little ones, whose steps are slow, I should not weary them, I know, Nor roughly chide. So tired : Lord, Thou wilt come To take me to my home. So long desired. Only Thy grace and mercy send, That I may serve Thee to the end, Though I am tired. a&taft on tlje Horti WAIT on the Lord, for what He hath to give, O restless heart ; He knows the sorrows that beset thy way, He knows thy fretful weariness to-day, O fainting heart! When thou hast stilled thyself to rest in Him, O throbbing heart ; When thou hast learned to love Him first and chief, To love Him even better for Thy grief, O weeping heart ! Then will He grant thee all thy heart's desire, O longing heart ; Sunlight of joy may even here be given If so He will — if not, sunrise in heaven, O waiting heart ! %%t Iftoom toag full of #npte THE room was full of angels, And she wondered we could not see, That we could not see their shining wings As they floated noiselessly Around her bed. The room was full of music, Beautiful music — she said, And she wondered we could not hear How the holy strains were stealing, How the happy songs were pealing, All through the hush and gloom Of the silent room. And just before the dawning, When the darkness of night was o'er, And the night of her suffering life Was ended for evermore, THE ROOM WAS FULL OF ANGELS In the grey of Ascension morning The angels came again, And tenderly they bore her For whom they had waited long — Watched and waited in heaven, Knowing that even here She was learning their blessed song. So in the grey of morning They bore her soul away Beyond the prison bars, Beyond the fading stars, To the brightness of the day. »>leep, gsleep, mp ^eart! CHRISTMAS CHIMES HEARD ABROAD S LEEP, sleep, my heart ! Sleep, and waken not. Christmas bells are chiming, chiming sad and sweet : Heed them not. Memories of home Now would thronging come, Now would weeping come : Wake them not. Sleep, sleep, my heart ! Sleep, and waken not. Though the bells are ringing, ringing glad and sweet, Hearken not. Home's sweet joys and cares, All its hopes and fears, All its dreams and tears Best forget. SLEEP, SLEEP, MY HEART ! 7 Wake, wake, my heart ! Wake, and slumber not. Heavenly voices calling, calling low and sweet, Bid thee watch. Thy true home is near, Through the starlight clear Soon may Christ appear — Wait and watch. Wake, wake, my heart ! Wake, and slumber not. Angel choirs are singing, singing glad and sweet Of thy home : Where with rapture filled, All thy trembling stilled, All thy dreams fulfilled, Thou shalt come. S>ome 2Dap ! WE wait for happiness through days and nights Of waking dreams, sweet hopes, and trembling fears ; The vision floats before us evermore, And still within our yearning hearts we cry, Some day ! some day ! We wait for grief through years of brightest joy, Of hopes fulfilled beyond our highest hope ; While still a shadow haunts our inmost hearts, And voices seem to whisper low and sad, Some day ! some day ! We wait for heaven's joy through sun and shade, Chequering with ceaseless change our earthly path; SOME DAY ! 9 By all, however pure, unsatisfied, These trembling souls of ours are echoing still, Some day ! some day ! Some day the love which is too much to bear On earth, and oftentimes would fail and sink Beneath its own sweet weight, both sweet and sad, Shall lose itself in that Eternal Love, Where only human hearts may find their home, Some day ! some day ! 2Dta& iLotie DEAD love ! dead friendship ! Lord, what voice can wake These from their grave ? All nature may arise, but can it be That these shall live again, tho' buried now So still and deep ? Dead love ! dead friendship ! Ah ! what bitter dreams Do haunt their rest. Glad memories to sadness turned, fair words To stings, and trust confiding into doubt Of human truth ! And yet it may be, on some far-off shore, That Thou, O Christ, our One and perfect Friend In this dim world, Wilt bring again these treasures of the earth And raise them to a higher life in Thee Who changest not. DEAD LOVi: n So when the veil is lifted from our hearts In the fair clearness of that unknown land To which we haste, We shall behold each other in the Light That maketh old things new, and dark things plain, And bitter sweet ! l&ecompengeti SEE, thou hast passed life's spring ! Its first unconscious joy, Its gold without alloy, These thou hast lost ; But in their place thy God doth bring A dearer, brighter treasure still, To hearts that know and love His Will, Even His peace ! Youth's visions all are fled ! Thy proud imaginings, Thy hopes of earthly things, Withered and gone. Now, thou art well content instead To live in other lives, to share The burden of some secret care And dream of heaven ! Thy health is gone ! and pain And weary hours have traced Lines that can never be effaced From cheek and brow. RECOMPENSED 13 Yet weep not, see what thou dost gain : For every pang, God gives to thee Fresh love and deeper sympathy In other's woes. Yes ! thou hast lost thy home ; Its joys all passed away, Its memory day by day Fading from thee. Yet fear not ; thou shalt find a home, Like Him who walked this earth alone, And knew no home, save only one, In hearts that weep. %o a picture of t^e Viv$in an& Cfjtlti bp &)a00oftrrata PAINTER ! who with reverent hand hast traced The holiest scene that mortals e'er beheld Upon this clay-cold earth, It seems as if thy spirit had embraced Its saving truth, as those who wrote of eld The story of Christ's birth. Thou sleepest, Holy One ! in her fond arms To whom, though human, that blest name was given, The Mother of the Lord. So calm Thy brow — Thou seem'st from earth's alarms So far away — as if in Thine own Heaven, Within the Light of God. She droops above Thee, with a silent awe Her pure, calm, tender face looks down on Thee With holy reverence ; THE VIRGIN AND CHILD 15 She can but gaze and worship and adore, And scarce she dares to lay a touch on Thee In Thy pure innocence. Thou sleepest on her breast, yet one small hand Is laid on hers, as if Thou wouldst defend Her human feebleness. Thou seem'st to bless her with that infant hand For all her love, as she o'er Thee doth bend In watchful tenderness. Thou sleepest, Holy One ! and all around Bright cherub faces on Thy slumbers wait, Full of strange ecstasy And glad amaze, that Thou shouldst thus be found, Thou, Lord of all, taking on Thee the state Of human infancy. Isaiah xlii. 3 THOU wilt not break the bruised reed ! The poor sad hearts that wander through the world, Despised of all, but most by their own selves, Thou, Lord, dost love them, wouldst bind up their wounds, And bring sweet music from their fading life. But as for us, we pass them by in scorn, Say they are weak and useless to their kind, Without a voice or work in this great w r orld, No power to strive, no strength or hope to will, Tossed by the tempest, bending in the storm, And swayed by every wind of circumstance. Lord, these were not Thy thoughts when Thou didst walk On earth, and still from heaven Thou watchest o'er Thine own. Thou didst create the stately oak And also the low reed, and Thou dost love Til E BRU ESED R EED 17 The full rejoicing chorus that ascends From leaves and branches of the mighty tree — Rejoicing not alone in its own strength, But drawing to it all the songs of birds And hum of insects, and the thousand not Of happy nature — yet not less Thou lov'st The low, sad note that echoes trembling forth >m the frail reed, Thou, Lord, dost hearken, though 'Tis but a sigh Thou wouldst not have all voices tuned alike In that great harmony which evermore Rises about Thy Throne. But we, alas ! W e know not yet the mystery of that song, Nor how the lowly voiced do fill their parts. Lord, blessed Master, make us more like Thee, O fill us with a wider charity, A deep, strong, tender love like Thine, So tender, just because it is so strong, So deep, untiring, never giving up Hope for Thy creatures, never casting off Even the meanest. Teach us still like Thee To hate all sin and yet to love with such An endless yearning love the souls that sin. Give us the instinct of true sympathy, Divining, though we cannot read like Thee, B 18 THE BRUISED REED What storms of life have passed o'er breaking hearts, What secret wearing griefs have weighed them down, What battles they have fought and won where we Perchance had yielded, in the fierce, hot strife. O send us, Lord, as Thou Thyself wast sent, To heal the broken-hearted and to bind The bruised reed ; to breathe a living strength Into all tired hearts and fainting souls And bid them rest their weariness in Thee. %\)t FtnepauD ' These last have wrought but one hour, and thou hast made them equal unto us, who have borne the burden and heat of the day.' St. Matthew xx. 12. ONE hour ! ah, friends, ye cannot tell How long that hour hath been ! But as for us, we know it well — Know all its anguish keen. Ye cannot guess what bitter tears In that sad hour were shed \ Ye know not of its griefs and fears, Its overwhelming dread. Ye know not how each former thought, Each haunting dream of sin, Against us every moment wrought In bitter strife within. Ye saw not how with trembling hands And eager haste we toiled, Yearning to do our Lord's commands, Yet fearing to be foiled. 20 THE VINEYARD Ah, friends ! no right or claim have we, Our gifts are stained and dim ; Such as they are, on bended knee, We bring them unto Him, To Him who still would take us home, Though late our love, and cold ; Then grudge not, brethren, that we come, Though late, to His dear fold. And blame not ye our loving Lord, Who gives to all the same — Who gives to us His great reward, Although we have no claim \ Equal to you we cannot be, You who have served so long ; But, oh ! thrice happy, happy ye Whom He hath loved so long. Though ye have borne, and nobly borne, The burden of the day, Though often ye were faint and worn Beneath the burning ray, Yet think how sweetly through the strife The Master bore His part — His smile the brightness of your life, The music of your heart. THE VINE V A RD 21 And now we only ask to serve, We do not ask for rest ; We would give all without reserve, Our life, our love, our best. We only ask to see His face, It is enough for us ; We only ask the lowest place, So He may smile on us. WRITTEN FOR A GERMAN CHANT LORD JESUS, to Thee ^ We are journeying on, O keep Thou our feet, Till heaven be won. The way is oft steep And we long sore for rest, But Thou, loving Lord, Thou knowest the best. We '11 not fear the storms, They are all in Thy Hand ; We '11 not dread the thorns, We re a pilgrim band. We ? re a pilgrim band, As we walk, we sing, We thank Thee for all, Our God and our King. THE PILGRIMS' SONG 21 *j We thank Thee, dear Lord, For the sunshine fair, For flowers that smile By the wayside bare. We thank Thee for toil And the weary night, That makes Thy great love Only shine more bright. We thank Thee still more For the coming dawn, For that tender hope Of a holy morn, When we who are now Thy pilgrim band, Shall kneel at Thy feet, In the mountain land. l&zmzmbzv i 'Son, remember that thou in thy lifetime receivedst thy good things.' St. Luke xvi. 25. ' I was a stranger, and ye took Me not in.' St. Matthew xxv. 43. YE have hedged yourselves in with sunshine, And the wail of a human woe Cannot pierce through the dazzling barrier, As it wandereth to and fro. Ye have hedged yourselves in with sunshine, And the weary, troubled souls Would fear to draw nigh from the darkness That around them for ever rolls. Ye have hedged yourselves in with sunshine, And ye shrink from the sight of sin, Ye could not seek for the lost one Whom the Shepherd died to win. Ye have learned to laugh with the joyous, And ye love the merry and glad ; REMEMBER ! 25 But ye cannot see through the brightness Where the shadows lie deep and sad. And if now, as a toilworn stranger, The Master perchance should come, Would ye bid Him with joy to enter And abide in your sunny home ? Would ye kneel at His feet, confessing That ye loved Him first and best ? Would ye bear the scorn of the worldling As ye tended the weary Guest ? Ah, no ! ye would hear in the distance His steps, as they wandered away, And say, as ye turned to your comrades : 1 He will pass here again, some day.' Ah, yes ! He is certainly coming ! He will come as the King of Kings ; But ye will have had your sunshine And your good but perishing things. And they who have watched through the darkness And the shadows of night, awhile, Shall find the light of their longing In the dawn of the Master's smile. 2Dreamlan&'0 f lotoergj DREAMLAND'S flowers! dreamland's flowers ! Ah, how fair they grow ! Nought can fade them, nought can touch them, Neither sun nor snow. Dreamland's flowers ! dreamland's flowers ! Ah, how sweet they blow ! Blooming in the shadow-country, Land that none may know. Dreamland's flowers ! dreamland's flowers ! Bright with dewy sleep : With closed eyes we mortals see them — Eyes that fain would weep. Dreamland's flowers ! dreamland's flowers ! Calm their rest and deep ; But their tender fragrance ever Haunts our waking sleep. DREAMLAND'S FLOWERS 27 Dreamland's flowers ! dreamland's flowers ! Still they lure us on ; And their fairy forms still whisper Tales of visions gone. Dreamland's flowers ! dreamland's flowers ! We who dream alone, Soon shall wake to light unfading, When earth's sleep is done. a Hofar'0 Offering: I LAVISHED my love upon her, I laid it down at her feet, Alas ! I could not but love her, she seemed so fair and sweet. And once she cared for my loving, but now that has passed away, Her speech and her silence are cruel, and I — I have said my say. I lay down my love before her, I lay it down at her feet, Some day when she needs a flower, perchance she may find it sweet. The fragrance of love is unfading, you may bruise it as much as you will, But the scent will remain for ever, for the life is in it still. And I know that my love must bless her, for I kneel, as it lies at her feet, To pray that the Lord would shield her, and keep her so fair and sweet : A LOVER'S OFFERING 29 For the heart from whence it was lavished was offered long since to Him Whose love is eternal and changeless, though other loves grow dim. Some day when the veil shall be lifted that hides us still from our Lord, When He healeth the stroke of the wounded, by the might of His kingly word — Ah ! then she will gather my flower, she will know it is fair and sweet, And our hearts shall rejoice together, in the land where we both shall meet. J dje Sunbeam OUT ! away in the sunshine Flitting, fairily free ! Yes, I would be a sunbeam, But I would shine for thee. Out ! away in the cloudland, Smiling over the sea ! Yes, I would be a sunbeam, But I would smile for thee. Out ! away in the sweetness, Dancing o'er flower and tree ! Yes, I would be a sunbeam, But I would dance for thee. Out ! away in the sunset, Glowing where none may be ! Yes, I would be a sunbeam, But I would glow for thee. I THE SUNBEAM 31 'g- Out ! away in the fadini Fading where none may see ! Yes, I would be a sunbeam, And I would die for thee ! 8L C&rijttmaaf Carol CHRISTMAS night ! Holiest night ! Now the skies are glittering bright j Like a star come down from heaven Christ to human hopes is given. Christmas night ! Stillest night ! Angel wings are gleaming white ; Now to bless each earthly home, Christ the Lord of peace is come. Christmas night ! Happiest night ! Earth is filled with heavenly light ; Jesus now to lowly hearts, Joy and rest and love imparts. Christmas night ! Holiest night ! Kneeling in Thy blessed sight, Lord, before Thy manger-throne — Make us evermore Thine own. jfar from l£omc anD Country A CAROL TO THE DIVINE CHILD St. Matt. ii. 13, 14 FAR from home and country, Speeding through the night, All good angels guard Thee In Thy silent flight. On Thy Mother's bosom, Free from all alarms, Cradled in the shelter Of those tender arms. While the faithful Joseph, Full of anxious care, To the heavenly Father Makes his humble prayer, That the rest of Egypt May be safely won For the gentle Mother And the little One ! Far from home and country, Speeding through the night, All good angels guard Thee In Thy silent flight ! c 34 FAR FROM HOME AND COUNTRY See the mbon is rising, Over Bethlehem, While sad thoughts are lingering Round that happy home ; And the mother grieveth For her baby's crown, By the Eastern sages At His feet laid down. But Thou dreamest, Jesu, Of Thine angel band, And the brighter glory Of Thy Father-land. Or Thou musest, haply, Of Thy sorrows' crown, Of the Cross and Passion, And the life laid down. Far from home and country, Speeding through the night, All good angels guard Thee In Thy silent flight ! I Jesu, wilt Thou mind Thee, Blessed little One, \ Of Thine exiled children Journeying alone — Wilt Thou mind Thee of them Toiling through the night, When the clouds have borne Thee To the home of light ? FAR FROM HOME AND COUNTRY 35 Yes ! Thou wilt remember On Thy Father's throne, In that perfect glory Shared with Him alone ; Thou wilt keep us peaceful, Free from all alarms, Resting in the shelter Of the Everlasting Arms. Far from home and country, Toiling through the night, Bid Thine angels guide us To the home of liaht ! Si (IflieUtung; Carol WAKE thee ! Christian maiden, 'Tis thy wedding morn, Through the eastern heaven, Breathes the happy dawn. Now within thy chamber, Kneeling low in prayer, Offer all thou lovest To thy Father's care. Bid the dear Lord Jesus As thy wedding guest, So thy choicest blessings Shall of Him be blest ; So His holy presence Shall make all things shine, Turning earth to glory, Water into wine A WEDDING CAROL 37 Pray Him still to tarry In thy married home, Sweetening joys and sorrows That will surely come. Ask Him still to keep thee As thy husband's crown ; Pure, and bright, and faithful, Evermore his own. Not for this life only Serving hand in hand ; Setting both your faces Toward your fatherland, Where what God hath joined Shall be one for aye, In the blessed sunshine Of th' eternal day. SL Hacemafeer'gf »>ong; SEE the bobbins swiftly plying, Hear the bobbins gaily flying ! Faster, faster, Staying not ! Under, over, Tangling not ! Ever moving, twirling, twisting, With a marvellous persisting. Busy fingers daily toiling, Clean and fresh and free from soiling Did some fairy Teach your art ? Nay ! 'twas Patience Did her part ! White the thread upon the pillow As the foam upon the billow. See the dainty fabric growing, Graceful lines in patterns flowing ! Lace for baby, Lace for bride, Be it narrow, Be it wide, A LACEMAKERS' SONG 39 Good the work, and true endeavour : Real lace will last for ever. Cheerly work your work with singing, Into it some sweet thought bringing ! Think what beauty Thus you weave ! Think what pleasure Thus you give ! On the wearers breathe a blessing, All unknown to those possessing. 'Cfjtre art 3Ulie0!' [A teacher, taking a bunch of summer lilies to a playroom in a very poor London parish, and putting them aside to distribute after the games were over, one of the little girls came up to her, and said, in a shy, almost awestruck, whisper, ' Teacher, there are lilies ! ' ] "^y^ES, dear children, there are lilies — X Standing in the cottage gardens, In the green and pleasant country, Where the leaves are springing daily, Where the birds are singing gaily, — Fair and tall and very stately* Looking outwards very straightly, Wearing their white blossoms purely, While their golden hearts are gleaming In the summer sun ! Yes, my children, there are lilies — In this hot and crowded city, In the dark and dusty alleys, Where no birds are ever singing, Where no leaves are ever springing, — 'THERE A RE LILIES!' 41 God's dear children, pure and lowly, In His presence safe and holy, — Neither you nor I may mark them, But their Fathers smile is on them, And they bloom for Him ! Yes, dear children, there are lilies — In that hushed and silent garden, Where the Master walks at even, Where the healing tree is growing, And the stream of life is flowing : There no stain can mar their whiteness, There no cloud may dim their brightness, Veiled in light from earthly grieving, There they shine in peace eternal — Shine and rest in Him ! %a tlje (Emperor jFretoricfe HEfc * SCHLAF SANFT ! KAISER FRIEDRICH ' ' Blessed are they that shall endure in peace, for of Thee, Most Highest, they shall be crowned.' O GREAT white Knight! it seems but yesterday We saw thee stand in this our Westminster — Thy kingly form erect amongst the throng Around our Queen. Now thou hast entered in Unto the kingdom of eternal peace : Sleep soft and well ! Thy soul was pure Like those fair lilies thou didst so much love, Thy heart of gold like theirs, thy spirit calm, Suffering in silence, strong and self contained, And stayed upon the God whom thou didst serve. Sleep soft and well amidst a nation's tears ! The wreath upon thy breast, which tells of fame, TO THE EMPEROR FREDERICK III 43 Is twined with roses that thy dying hands Held all that bitter night, because they came From her, thy early love and faithful spouse, Who from her hero's side hath never failed In life or death. Sleep sweet, O Emperor ! Beloved of all true hearts, and crowned of God. Cratijsiations '3;c0u, HorD, tEtjp Eofoe impart' I ROM THE GERMAN JESU, Lord, Thy love impart, Holy Jesu ; Thou, my rock, my refuge art, Holy Jesu ; Thou the joy of all my heart, Holy Jesu, Jesu, Holy Jesu ! Evermore I think of Thee, My Redeemer ; Still desiring only Thee, My Redeemer ; Yearning still with Thee to be, My Redeemer, Jesu, my Redeemer! Feed me, in Thy mercy feed, Bread of heaven ; 48 LORD, THY LOVE IMPART' Fold me in Thy quiet mead, Safe at even ; Rest in Thee is rest indeed, Peaceful haven, Jesu, peaceful haven! Love can never equal Thine, Loving Jesu; Friendship — none so true as Thine, Faithful Jesu ; Sweetness — none so sweet as Thine, Blessed Jesu, Jesu, blessed Jesu ! When I faint, O quicken me, My Lifegiver; When I fail, O strengthen me, My Restorer; When I die, O comfort me, My Consoler, Jesu, my Consoler ! FROM THE GERMAN SLEEP well, sleep well in thy cool bed ! Thy tired limbs, they cannot feel The sand and flints that are so hard. Sleep soft and well ! Heavy thy coverlid and thick, The earth is heaped upon thy heart \ Yet sleep in peace, it hurts thee not. Sleep soft and well ! ' God keep thee ! ' — Ah ! thou hearest not, Nor wakest for my yearning cries ; Would it be better couldst thou hear? Nay ! surely nay ! Dear heart ! with thee 'tis well, 'tis well ! And if I could but be with thee, Ah ! then it would be well with me — I could endure. D 50 THY GRAVE Thou sleepest, and thou canst not hear The murmuring in the old church tower ; Nor when the watchman calleth twelve, In the still night. And when it lightens in the sky, And crash on crash the thunder rolls — The storm drives wildly o'er thy grave And wakes thee not. And all the things that troubled thee, From early dawn to midnight deep, Thank God ! they trouble thee no more, In thy still grave. ? Tis well with thee ! Oh, it is well ! And all that wounded thee so sore, Thank God ! it hurts thee now no more, In thy cool bed. If I could only be with thee, Ah ! then with me it would be well ; But now I wait, and find no balm For my deep pain. But when God wills, the day shall come, The day of rest shall come for me, And they will make my bed at last, By thy dear side. THY GRAVE 51 And I shall lie as still as thou, And they will sing my lullaby, And heap the earth upon my heart, And say, ' Farewell ! ' And I shall sleep as soft as thou, Nor hear the murmuring in the tower ; I shall not wake till Sunday's dawn Shall bring the dew. And when that Sunday's dawn shall come, And angels sing their matin song, Then we shall both together rise, Refreshed and whole. And a new Church will glisten there, Bathed in the rosy morning light, And we shall enter in and sing The praise of God. %ty iKHatcfjman FROM THE ROMAUNSCH THE hour of night is come, The watchman leaves his home. No creature now is moving ; Beneath God's care so loving Each household safe is sleeping : The watchman guard is keeping. They who the sweetest rest Are they who toil the best ; In holy freedom living, To lowly sufferers giving, In God's fear aye remaining, From every sin abstaining. O God of might above, Let Thy protecting Love To us be ever gracious, And prove so efficacious, That in all goodness growing, Thy power we may be showing. VOICES OF COMFORT Edited by the Rev. Thomas Vincent Fosbery, M.A., sometime Vicar of St. Giles's, Reading. Cheap Edition. S vial I °7>o. 3s. 6d. The Larger Edition (-s. 6d.) 7)iay still be had. LONDON AND NEW YORK LONGMANS, GREEN, & CO. Printed by T. and A. Constable, Printers to Her Majesty at the Edinburgh University Press / ':.': ..'■ ' — .