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Folded Hands. 
 
 They also serve, who only stand and wait." 
 
 
 AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY, 
 
 150 NASSAU STREET, NEW YORK. 
 
 

 COPYRIGHT, 1S7S, 
 BY AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY. 
 
For God's waiting ones, whether prisoners of 
 pain, serving through suffering, or pilgrims sitting 
 in the sunset, near the end of the way, Hstening for 
 the Master's call, these little waifs of consolation 
 have been gathered, with the prayer that they may 
 comfort and brighten many a weary day. 
 
 To the precious sister, sitting in the dimness of 
 God's shadow-land of pain, yet whose sweet, patient 
 life is a lesson and inspiration to us all, this little 
 volume is tenderly and affectionately dedicated. 
 
 S. B. T. 
 
LIFE RESTS. 
 
 "There is no music in a rest, but there is the 
 making of music in it." In our whole life-melody 
 the music is broken off here and there by " rests," 
 and we foolishly think we have come to the end of 
 the tune. God sends a time of forced leisure, sick- 
 ness, disappointed plans, frustrated efforts, and 
 makes a sudden pause in the choral hymn of our 
 lives, and we lament that our voices must be silent, 
 and our part missing in the music which ever goes 
 up to the ear of the Creator. How does the musi- 
 cian read the rest? See him beat the time with 
 unvarying count, and catch up the next note true 
 and steady, as if no breaking place had come between. 
 
 Not without design docs God write the music 
 of our lives. Be it ours to learn the tune, and not 
 be dismayed at the "rests." They arc not to be 
 slurred over, not to be omitted, not to destroy the 
 melody, not to change the key-note. If we look up, 
 God himself will beat the time for us. With the 
 eye on him, we shall strike the next note full and 
 clear. If we say sadly to ourselves, *' There is no 
 music in a rest," let us not forget "there is the 
 making of music in it." The making of music is 
 often a slow and painful process in this life. How 
 patiently God works to teach us! How long he 
 waits for us to learn the lesson ! 
 
 RUSKIN. 
 
FOLDi:!) HANDS 
 
 I STOOD by the Master's vineyard, 
 In the hght of the morning sun ; 
 
 I thou<;ht over the day's sweet hibor, 
 And I he great rewards to be won ; 
 
 For I longed to be up and doing 
 In llie harvest- held so raie, 
 
 Tliat my hands shiould be busy toih ng, 
 rhicking the ehisters fair. 
 
 As 1 turned to enter the vineyard, 
 
 The sound of eoniing feet 
 Caused me to pause and listen, 
 
 That the eomer I might greet. 
 
 And my Master stood before me, 
 In the golden morning light; 
 
 His smile cast a heavenly radiance 
 Tlial blinded my niorl.d sight. 
 
FOLDED HANDS. 
 
 But it entered my heart, and filled it 
 With a love and a rapture sweet ; 
 
 And I bowed in glad adoration 
 Before my Master's feet. 
 
 And his words, like silvery music 
 From the distant starry sky, 
 
 Came into my listening spirit, 
 An echo from strains on high. 
 
 And thus spake the Master, "Daughter, 
 
 I know thy longing heart 
 In the toil of my rich-laden vineyard 
 
 Is eager to bear a part. 
 
 " But from thee no active labor 
 The Master's cause demands ; 
 
 Within thy low cottage doorway 
 Only sit with folded hands, 
 
 ** And the patient endurance of sorrow, 
 
 And a burden sore of pain, 
 Till I come with a welcome summons. 
 
 To bring thee eternal gain." 
 
 So he led me to my cottage, 
 And left me within the door ; 
 
 But the brightness of his presence 
 Stays with me for evermore. 
 
CLEANSING FIRES. 
 
 I sec on the fair sweet uplands 
 71ie pleasant vineyard ground; 
 
 And the echo of happy voices 
 Comes to mc, a cheering sound. 
 
 I wait for his welcome footsteps ; 
 
 Perchance they are coming to me : 
 I watch for his radiant smiling, 
 
 That his dear face I may see. 
 
 And this, like a sweet bird, nestles 
 In my heart, else desolate : 
 
 They serve me who at my word 
 But fold their hands — and wait." 
 
 S. B. T. 
 
 CLEANSING FIRES. 
 
 Let thy gold be cast in the furnace. 
 
 Thy red gold, precious and bright ; 
 Do not fear the hungry fire. 
 
 With its caverns of burning light : 
 And thy gold shall return more precious, 
 
 Free from every spot and stain ; 
 For gold must be tried by fire, 
 
 And a heart must be tried by pain ! 
 
lo J'OLnJ':D ILLWS. 
 
 In the cruel fire of sorrow 
 
 Cast thy heart — do not faint or wail ; 
 Let thy hand be firm and steady, 
 
 Do not let thy spirit quail ; 
 But wait till the trial is over, 
 
 And take thy heart again, 
 For as gold is tried by fire, 
 
 So a heart must be tried by pain ! 
 
 I shall know by the gleam and glitter 
 
 Of the golden chain you wear, 
 By your heart's calm strength in loving, 
 
 Of the fire they have had to bear. 
 Beat on, true heart, for ever 
 
 Shine bright, strong golden chain, 
 .And bless the cleansing fire 
 
 And furnace of living pain ! 
 
 7^HE AXGICL OF PAIN. 
 
 Angel of Pain, I think thy face 
 Will be in all the heavenly place 
 The sweetest face that I shall see, 
 The swiftest face to smile on me. 
 All other angels faint and tire ; 
 Joy wearies, and forsakes Desire ; 
 
CALLED ASLDE. n 
 
 Hope falters face to face with Fate, 
 And dies because it cannot wait ; 
 And Love cuts short each loving day, 
 Because fond hearts cannot obey 
 That subtlest law which measures bliss 
 ]^y what it is content to miss. 
 
 But thou, O loving, faithful Pain, 
 
 Hated, reproached, rejected, slain, 
 
 Dost only closer cling, and bless 
 
 In sweeter, stronger steadfastness. 
 
 Dear, patient angel ! to thine own 
 
 Thou comest, and art never known, 
 
 Till late, in some lone twilight place, 
 
 The light of thy transfigured face 
 
 Sudden shines out, and speechless they 
 
 Know they have walked with Christ all day. 
 
 SAXE HOLM. 
 
 CALLED ASIDE. 
 " I have somewhat to say unto thee." 
 
 Called aside — 
 From the glad working of thy busy life. 
 From the- world's ceaseless stir of care and strife, 
 Into the stillness by thy Heavenly guide, 
 hV)r a brief space thou hast been called aside. 
 
12 FOLDED HANDS. 
 
 Lonely hours 
 Thou hast spent, weary on a couch of pain, 
 Watching the golden sunshine and the rain ; 
 Hours, whose sad length only to Him was known, 
 Who trod a sadder pathway, dark and lone. 
 
 Laid aside : 
 May not the little cup of suffering be 
 A loving one of blessing given to thee ? 
 The cross of chastening sent thee from above 
 By Him who bore the cross, whose name is Love. 
 
 Called aside : 
 Hast thou no memories of that " little while" ? 
 No sweet remembrance of thy Father's smile ? 
 No hidden thoughts that wrapped thee in their hold 
 Of Him who did such light and grace unfold } 
 
 Called aside — 
 Perhaps into the desert garden dim, 
 And yet not Tone, if thou hast been with Him, 
 And heard his voice in sweetest accents say, 
 ** Child, wilt thou not with me this hour stay ?" 
 
 Called aside, 
 In hidden paths with Christ thy Lord to tread, 
 Deeper to drink at the sweet Fountain Head ; 
 Closer in fellowship with Him to roam. 
 Nearer perchance to feel thy heavenly home. 
 
COMFOJ^T B Y THE WA Y. 13 
 
 Called aside. 
 Ob, knowledge deeper grows with Him alone, 
 In secret of his deeper love is shown, 
 And learned in many an hour of dark distress 
 Some rare, sweet lesson of his tenderness. 
 
 Called aside. 
 We thank Thee for the stillness and the shade, 
 And for the hidden paths thy love hath made, 
 And, so that we have wept and watched with Thee, 
 We thank Thee for our dark Gethsamene. 
 
 Called aside : 
 O restful thought — He doeth all things well — 
 O blessed sense, with Christ alone to dwell : 
 So, in the shadow of thy cross to hide, 
 We thank Thee, Lord, to have been called aside. 
 
 COMFORT BY THE WA Y. 
 I JOURNEY through a desert drear and wild : 
 Yet is my heart by such sweet thoughts beguiled. 
 Of Him on whom I lean, my strength and stay, 
 I can forget the sorrows of the way. 
 
 Thoughts of His love ! the root of every grace 
 Which finds in this poor heart a dwelling-place ; 
 
14 FOLDED HANDS. 
 
 The sunshine of my soul, than day more bright, 
 And my calm pillow of repose by night. 
 
 Thoughts of His sojourn in this vale of tears ! 
 The tale of love unfolded in those years 
 Of sinless suffering and patient grace, 
 I love again and yet again to trace. 
 
 Thoughts of His glory ! on the cross I gaze, 
 And there behold its sad yet healing rays ; 
 Beacon of hope ! which, lifted up on high, 
 Illumes with heavenly light the tear-dimmed eye. 
 
 Thoughts of His coming! for that joyful day 
 In joyful hope I watch, and wait, and pray; 
 The dawn draws nigh, the midnight shadows flee. 
 And what a sunrise will that advent be ! 
 
 Thus, while I journey on, my Lord to meet, 
 My thoughts and meditations are so sweet 
 Of Him on whom I lean, my strength, my stay, 
 I can forget the sorrows of the way. 
 
 A PILGRIM'S SONG. 
 I JOURNEY along 
 
 On a cloudy day. 
 Apart from the throng 
 Of the glad and gay. 
 
NO IV AND THEN, 
 
 But Jesus is near, 
 
 More perfectly known, 
 When we may appear 
 
 To travel alone. 
 
 Those passing along 
 With skies ever bright 
 
 Have lost the sweet song 
 He gives in the night. 
 
 NOW AND THEN 
 
 Now — the tumult of the battle surging, 
 
 Now — the clouds that shut the warriors in ; 
 
 Some who faint, and more the conflict urging — 
 Sighs and shouts together in the din ! 
 
 Then — the splendor of the conquest shining, 
 Not a victor on the plain uncrowned ; 
 
 Not a sigh for any loss repining — 
 Rapture waking all the sky around! 
 
 Now — our shrinkings from so many crosses, 
 And life's valleys watered by our tears. 
 
 Foolish tears we weep o'er little losses — 
 Trailing always through their mists our fears. 
 
1 6 FOLDED HANDS. 
 
 Then — the one cross we '11 remember only — 
 Making of our crosses steps to Christ ; 
 
 One dear cross whose passion vast and lonely 
 Bound us sweetly in redemption's tryst. 
 
 Now — the hidings of our Father's glory — 
 Walls that close around the earth and sun ; 
 
 Weak unrest with nature's half-told story, 
 Knowledge only evermore begun. 
 
 Then — then the curtain of the universes 
 Rolled away, as mists at morning fled ; 
 
 Each star that shines its history rehearses, 
 And ignorance, with sin and death, is dead. 
 
 Now — the anguish of all mortal sorrow. 
 
 Now, the groans that from our hearts are wrung, 
 
 Vain expectancies of bliss to-morrow, 
 
 All to-morrows with deep sackcloth hung. 
 
 Then — all sorrow from the bosom banished, 
 God himself to wipe our tears away ; 
 
 Then — the cheats of earthly hopes evanished, 
 All to-morrows merged in heaven's to-day ! 
 
 Now — the psalm that tells us death is strongest : 
 Strongest, surest of the foes we have ; 
 
 Now — the waiting for the shadow's longest, 
 Till it falls upon the hallowed grave. 
 
UF HILL. 17 
 
 Then — the anthem of the resurrection — 
 
 We shall chant death's sure destruction o'er ; 
 
 And shadows to the grave in dark direction, 
 
 From heaven's sunlight shall grow long no more. 
 
 REV. W. C. RICHARDS. 
 
 UP HILL. 
 Does the road wind up hill all the way } 
 
 Yes, to the very end. 
 Will the day's journey take the whole long day ? 
 
 From morn till night, my friend. 
 
 But is there for the night a resting-place "i 
 
 A roof for me when the slow, dark hours begin ? 
 
 May not the darkness hide it from my face } 
 You cannot miss that inn. 
 
 Shall I meet other wayfarers at night ? 
 
 Those who have gone before. 
 Then must I knock, or call when just in sight ? 
 
 They will not keep you standing at the door. 
 
 Shall I find comfort, travel-sore and weak ? 
 
 Of labor you shall find the sum. 
 Will there be beds for me and all who seek ? 
 
 Yea, beds for all who come. 
 
 CHRISTINA ROSSETTI. 
 Foliiea Hands. 3 
 
i8 FOLDED HANDS. 
 
 A CRY FOR REST. 
 Lord, a whole long day of pain 
 
 Now at last is o'er ! 
 Ah, how much we can sustain 
 
 I have felt once more ; 
 Felt how frail are all our powers, 
 
 And how weak our trust ; 
 If thou help not, those dark hours 
 
 Crush us to the dust. 
 
 Could I face the coming night 
 
 If thou went not near ? 
 Nay, without Thy love and might 
 
 I must sink with fear : 
 Round me falls the evening gloom, 
 
 Sights and sounds all cease. 
 But within this narrow room 
 
 Night will bring no peace. 
 
 Other weary eyes may close. 
 
 All things seek their sleep ; 
 Hither comes no soft repose, 
 
 I must wake and weep. 
 Come then, Jesus, o'er me bend. 
 
 Give me strength to cope 
 With my pain, and gently send 
 
 Thoughts of peace and hope. 
 
A CRY FOR REST. 19 
 
 Draw my weary heart away 
 
 From this gloom and strife, 
 And these fever pains allay 
 
 With the dew of life ; 
 Thou canst calm the troubled mind; 
 
 Thou its dread canst still ; 
 Teach me to be all resigned 
 
 To my Father's will. 
 
 Then if I must wake and weep 
 
 All the long night through, 
 Thou the watch with me wilt keep, 
 
 Friend and guardian true; 
 In the darkness thou wilt speak 
 
 Lovingly with me. 
 Though my heart may vainly seek 
 
 Words to breathe to thee. 
 
 Wheresoe'er my couch is made, 
 
 In thy hands I lie ; 
 And to thee alone for aid 
 
 Turns my longing eye : 
 Let my prayer grow weary never. 
 
 Strengthen thou th' oppressed ; 
 In thy shadow, Lord, for ever 
 
 Let me gently rest. 
 
J'OLVJCn HANDS. 
 
 LEAN HARD. 
 Child of my love, lean hard ! 
 And let me feel the pressure of thy care ; 
 I know thy burden, for I fashioned it — 
 Poised it in my own hand, and made its wciL;hl 
 Precisely that which I saw best for thee. 
 And when I placed it on thy shrinking form, 
 I said, " I shall be near, and while thou leanest 
 On me this burden shall be mine, not thine." 
 So shall I keep within my circling arms 
 The child of my own love ; here lay it down, 
 Nor fear to weary Him who made, upholds. 
 And guides the universe. Yet closer come ; 
 Thou art not near enough. Thy care, thyself, 
 Lay both on me, that I may feel my child 
 Reposing on my heart. Thou lovest me .'' 
 I doubt it not ; then loving me, lean hard. 
 
 THE STORY OF THE ALOE. 
 Have you heard the tale of the aloe plant, 
 
 Away in the sunny clime .'' 
 By humble growth of long, long years 
 
 It reaches its blooming time : 
 And then a wondrous bud at its crown 
 
 Breaks out in thousand flowers ; 
 
LEANING ON JESUS. 21 
 
 This floral queen, in its blooming seen, 
 
 Is the pride of the tropical bowers : 
 lUit the plant to the flower is a sacrifice, 
 For it blooms but once, and in blooming dies. 
 
 Have you further heard of this aloe plant, 
 
 That grows in the sunny clime, 
 How every one of its thousand flowers, 
 
 As they drop in the blooming time, 
 Is an infant plant that fastens its roots 
 
 In the place where it falls on the ground ; 
 And fast as they drop from its dying stem, 
 
 Grow lively and lovely around ? 
 By dying it liveth a thousand fold, 
 In the young that spring from the death of the old. 
 
 IIENKY HARliAUGH. 
 
 LEANING ON JESUS. 
 
 Leaning on Thee, my Guide and Friend, 
 
 My gracious Saviour ! I am blest ; 
 Though weary, thou dost condescend 
 To be my rest. 
 
 Leaning on thee, with childlike, faith. 
 
 To thee the future I conflde; 
 Each step of life's untrodden path, 
 Thy love will guide. 
 
2 2 FOLDED HANDS. 
 
 Leaning on thee, I breathe no moan, 
 
 Though faint with hunger, parched with heat ; 
 Thy will has now become my own : 
 That will is sweet. 
 
 Leaning on thee, 'mid torturing pain, 
 
 With patience thou my soul dost fill ; 
 Thou whisper'st, " What did I sustain ?" 
 Then I am still. 
 
 Leaning on thee, I do not dread 
 
 The havoc that disease may make ; 
 Thou, who for me thy blood hast shed, 
 Wilt ne'er forsake. 
 
 Leaning on thee, no fear alarms ; 
 
 Calmly I stand on death's dark brink : 
 I feel the everlasting arms, 
 I cannot sink. 
 
 A HEART CRY. 
 It is thy hand, my God ! 
 
 My sorrow comes from thee ; 
 I bow beneath thy chastening rod, 
 
 'Tis love that bruises me. 
 
SWEET PATIENCE, COME! 23 
 
 I would not murmur, Lord, 
 
 Before thee I am dumb : 
 Lest I should breathe one murmuring word, 
 
 To thee for help I come. 
 
 My God ! thy name is Love, 
 
 A Father's hand is thine ; 
 With tearful eye, I look above, 
 
 And cry, " Thy will be mine !" 
 
 I know thy will is right, 
 
 Though it may seem severe ; 
 Thy path is still unclouded light, 
 
 Though dark it may appear. 
 
 Jesus for me hath died ; 
 
 Thy Son thou didst not spare ; 
 His pierc(^d hands, his bleeding side, 
 
 Thy love for me declare. 
 
 Here my poor heart can rest ; 
 
 My God ! it clings to thee ; 
 Thy will is love, thine end is blest, 
 
 All work for good to me. 
 
 SWEET PATIENCE, COME! 
 Not from a low and earthly source, 
 Waiting till things shall have their course 
 
24 FOLDED HANDS. 
 
 Not as accepting present pain, 
 In hope of some hereafter gain ; 
 Not in a dull and sullen calm, 
 But as a breath of heavenly balm, 
 Bidding my weary heart submit, 
 To bear whatever God sees fit, 
 Sweet patience, come ! 
 
 A WATCH IN THE NIGHT. 
 In the darkness and the silence, 
 
 When the. night was on the wane. 
 And the glory of the dawning 
 
 Was about to come again, 
 Ran a whisper through the treetops, 
 
 Ran a whisper low and clear : 
 " Patience, all ye weary watchers, 
 
 For the morn, the morn is near ! 
 
 " And the gloom is but the calyx. 
 
 That enfolds the perfect flower ; 
 But before the bloom and beauty, 
 
 There must come the ' darkest hour !' 
 Oh, ye weary ones of earth, 
 
 In your weakness, doubt, and pain, 
 Possess your souls in patience. 
 
 For the morn will come a^rain !" 
 
COMFORTINGS. 2$ 
 
 To my heart I took the message, 
 
 For the darkness and the night 
 Had almost hid from weary eyes 
 
 The blest promise of the light. 
 And above the swaying branches 
 
 Sometimes still the voice I hear : 
 " Oh, thou weary soul, have patience, 
 
 For, behold, the morn is near." 
 
 AMALIE LA FORGE. 
 
 COAfFOJ?T/A'GS. 
 I SAID : " O hated Sorrow, well thou fittest 
 
 All that in earthly being is least fair ! 
 Thou stealest through my darkened home, thou 
 sittest 
 In that sad, empty chair ! 
 
 " I see thy gloomy shape, whence all things borrow 
 
 Such desolate and utter hues of night ! 
 
 I see thy pale, stern visage, and, O Sorrow, 
 
 I loathe the bitter sight !" 
 
 Then, as it seemed, that shape took voice : " Ah, 
 doubt me, 
 If so thou wilt, for pitiless and cold ! 
 Yet, child, these black robes that thou seest about 
 me 
 Are lined with living gold ! 
 
 Fokled Hands, A 
 
2 6 FOLDED HANDS, 
 
 " This heart of mine, beyond all human dreaming, 
 
 Brims with a love that no contempt can tire ; 
 And look ! this hand, of such chill, ghostly seeming, 
 Is warm with friendship's fire ! 
 
 " Oh, learn one truth, in all its fair completeness : 
 
 A sorrow's crown of thorns, if worn aright, 
 With calm humility and patient sweetness, 
 Becomes a crown of life ! 
 
 " Each suffering heart by hope most unbefriended, 
 
 Should feel that if its faith to God be given, 
 When love and fortitude are closest blended, 
 It then is nearest heaven ! 
 
 " And every new, brave smile our lips shall render, 
 When human pain's worst, weariest ways are trod. 
 Adds a fresh plume to those white wings of splendor 
 Wherein we shall meet God !" 
 
 BEVOJVD. 
 Beyond ! I wander now among 
 
 The fields this side the ''jasper sea;" 
 But few the songs my heart has sung. 
 Because the field-thorns trouble me ; 
 
 But soon, beyond, 
 Where Jesus is, I too shall be. 
 
HEAR T HUSHING S. 2 7 
 
 Beyond ! I weep now burning tears, 
 
 I suffer in lone agony : 
 The clouds, so big with burdening fears, 
 
 Hang full and heavy over me ; 
 But there, beyond. 
 
 Unclouded skies o'erbend the *' sea." 
 
 Beyond, beyond ! oh, blest beyond ! 
 
 Oh, heaven eternal, peaceful, free ! 
 Oh, home on high ! I haste from bonds 
 
 To find God's boundless rest in thee ; 
 And saints beyond 
 
 Shall crowd thy gates to welcome me. 
 
 IIARVIE HALL. 
 
 HEART HUSHINGS. 
 Oh, ask in faith ! Against the ill thou dreadest. 
 Comes white-robed Peace, sweet angel of God's 
 will ; 
 Folding her wings beside them as thou pleadest, 
 Whispering as God's own word to thee, ** Be still !" 
 
 " Be still !" how fearfully soever blended 
 
 Thy day with dark, like twilight's flickering bars ; 
 
 For God will make thy deepest midnight splendid. 
 With all his countless wealth of glittering stars. 
 
2 3 FOLDED HANDS. 
 
 HIS REST. 
 
 There are no sorrowing hearts but heaven enfolds 
 them, 
 And Christ can give them rest : 
 He takes our souls all torn with grief, and holds 
 them. 
 Close to his loving breast. 
 
 Oh, weary heart, press on ! there yet remaineth 
 
 This rest for thee ; 
 Oh, weary soul, toil on ! his love restraineth 
 
 And blesseth thee. 
 
 He blesseth all things, wandering and erring, 
 
 And far astray ; 
 A voice still comes, life's darkened pathway cheer- 
 ing, 
 
 " I am the Way !" 
 
 " I am the Truth, the Life, the Resurrection ; 
 
 Though dead in sin, 
 Flee but to me, thy only sure protection, 
 
 And enter in." 
 
 In past the gates that guard the land immortal, 
 
 The rest above : 
 No stern-browed warder keeps the golden portal. 
 
 Its God is love. 
 
THE OTHER SIDE. 
 
 Earth's vessels may be shattered, broken, riven, 
 
 And Hfe a loss ; 
 There yet remains this rest, the rest of heaven. 
 
 Lay down thy cross ! 
 
 E. NORMAN GUNNIS(JN. 
 
 THE OTHER SIDE. 
 Not here the sunUt glory. 
 
 Not here the cloudless light. 
 The perfect, finished story, 
 
 The day that hath no night ; 
 Our Father knoweth what is best, 
 Beyond the flood he keeps our rest. 
 
 Not here the shining raiment. 
 
 All pure of spot or stain. 
 For here, a weary claimant, 
 
 The heart hath tears and pain. 
 And waileth, waileth, till possessed, 
 Beyond the flood, of peace and rest. 
 
 Not here our richest treasures. 
 
 Our sweetest cups of life ; 
 We'll taste the deepest pleasures. 
 
 With heavenly rapture rife. 
 When home with Christ, in love we rest. 
 Beyond the flood, for ever blest. 
 
 MARGARET E. SANGSTER. 
 
 29 
 
3o FOLDED HANDS. 
 
 BITTER-SWEET. 
 Oh, rare old word, half shadowed and half bright. 
 Half clad in gray, and half in rosy light ; 
 
 And yet it is not hard to comprehend. 
 For gain comes oft through loss, and we have known 
 True joy and comfort out of suffering won, 
 
 So curiously do grief and gladness blend. 
 
 Our dear Lord Christ doth temper every grief 
 With some deep joy which brings our hearts relief; 
 The sunlight gilds the clouds that intervene, 
 And on the darkest cloud, God's vow is seen. 
 
 JULIA A. MATHEWS. 
 
 HE GIVETH HIS BELOVED SLEEP. 
 
 A LITTLE child rests on a bed of pain. 
 
 With an aching head and a throbbing brain ; 
 
 A feverish flush on the soft cheek lies 
 
 And a wistful look in the sweet blue eyes, 
 
 As the sick child moans : *' How the slow hours 
 
 creep ! 
 Will the Lord not send to his little one sleep ?" 
 
 And the mother smoothed from the child's brow fair 
 The clustering locks of her golden hair. 
 And murmured : " My darling, we cannot tell ; 
 But we know that the Father doth all things well ; 
 
HE GIVE 271 ins BELOVED SLEEP. 31 
 
 And we know that never a creature in pain 
 
 Addressed a prayer to his mercy in vain. 
 
 Time has no line that his hand may not smooth ; 
 
 Life has no grief that his love cannot soothe ; 
 
 And the fevered brow shall have rest at last, 
 
 In the healing shade from the death-cross cast. 
 
 Look up, my precious one: why shouldst thou 
 
 weep ? 
 The Lord giveth aye to his loved ones sleep." 
 
 And the little one gazed with a glad surprise 
 In the loving depths of those patient eyes, 
 Then lifted her lips for one long embrace 
 And turned with a smile on her weary face. 
 And the mother smiled as the early morn 
 Marked the deep peace on the childish form, 
 And cried aloud in her thankfulness deep, 
 "The dear Lord be praised, who hath given her 
 sleep !" 
 
 Ay, mother — she sleeps, \\\ that charmed repose. 
 That shall waken no more to earth's pains and woes. 
 For the Saviour hath gathered his lamb to his breast, 
 Where never life's storms shall her peace molest. 
 His dear love willed not that time should trace 
 One sorrowful line on that innocent face ; 
 
32 IVJ.DKD HANDS. 
 
 Olhcrs, less favored, might suffer their sliarc 
 Of tlie niidnight toil and the noontide glare ; 
 Otlicis niiglit lal)or, otlicrs niiglit weep, 
 lUit the Lord givelh aye to his loved ones sleep. 
 
 « THY WILL y>V'; done:' 
 
 Tiiou knowest best, 
 I will not grieve tliy Spirit with repining 
 
 That })ain hath lirouglit me low ; 
 iKdiind the cloud 1 trust thy sun is shining, 
 
 Antl thcMi, O Lord, dost know 
 Whieh is the lesson for thy servant's learning, 
 
 To teach both faith and love, 
 Until my soul, with holy rapture burning, 
 
 Is filled for above. 
 
 Oh, hold me close, 
 Dear Loiil ! nor let my wa)^ward fancy straying, 
 
 Carry me far from thee : 
 Let me remember that thy will obeying 
 
 Ls what brings peace to me. 
 In watches of the night, sombre and fearful, 
 
 When suffering fills the room, 
 And friends beside me watch in sorrow tearful, 
 
 Thy love dispels Ihc gloom. 
 
SIMIIJTUDI'.S. 33 
 
 I briiij; to niiiul 
 The Man of ai^ony, and pain, and sorrow, 
 
 Who bore llic cm-oss for nic: 
 And r will praise liini now, and each lo-niorrow, 
 
 'i'hat lie halh set us free; 
 Then let afllictions erowd, and cover o'er me, 
 
 I will be patient still, 
 Till he who suffered patiently before me, 
 
 Hath wrought me to his will. 
 
 siMii.rruni'.s. 
 
 Tnon art like ni«;ht, () sickness! deeply stillinj; 
 Within my heart the workl's disturbin*;- sound ; 
 And the dim (piiet of my chamber hlling 
 Witli low sweet voices, by life's tumult drowned. 
 Thou art like awful ni-ht! Ihou <;:itherest round 
 The things that are unseen, though close they lie; 
 And with a truth, clear, starlling, and profound, 
 (dv'st their dread presence to our mortal eye. 
 'i'hou art like starry, spiritual night! 
 ] ligh and immortal thcnights attend thy way, 
 And revelations, which the common light 
 Ihings not, thougli wakening with its rosy ra.y 
 All outward life. Be welcome then thy lod, 
 ]kfore whose touch my soul unfolds to (iod. 
 
 IImIkI* 
 
34 FOLDED HANDS. 
 
 COURAGE. 
 Art thou weary, art thou languid, 
 
 Art thou sore distrest? 
 "Come to me," saith One, "and coming' 
 Be at rest." 
 " Hath he marks to lead me to him, 
 If he be my guide?" 
 In his feet and hands are wound-prints, 
 And his side. 
 " Hath he diadem as monarch. 
 That his brow adorns V 
 Yes, a crown, in very surety. 
 But of thorns. 
 " If I find him, if I follow, 
 
 What his guerdon here T 
 Many a sorrow, many a labor, 
 Many a tear. 
 " If I still hold closely to him. 
 What hath he at last .?" 
 Sorrow vanquished, labor ended, 
 Jordan past. 
 " If I ask him to receive me. 
 Will he say me nay V 
 Not till earth, and not till heaven 
 Pass away. 
 
HOPEFULLY WALTLNG. 35 
 
 ** Finding, following, keeping, struggling. 
 Is he sure to bless ?" 
 Angels, martyrs, prophets, virgins, 
 Answer " Yes !" 
 
 FROM ST. STEPHEN THE SABAITE, 
 
 HOPEFULLY WAITING. 
 
 "Blessed are they who are homesick, for they shall come at last 
 to their Father's house." IIeinrich Stilling. 
 
 Not as you meant, oh learned man and good, 
 Do I accept your words of truth and rest ; 
 God, knowing all, knows what for me is best. 
 And gives me what I need, not what he could, 
 
 Nor always as I would ! 
 I shall go to the Father's house, and see 
 Him and the Elder Brother face to face — 
 What day or hour I know not. Let me be 
 Steadfast in work, and earnest in the race, 
 Not as a homesick child who all day long 
 Whines at its play, and seldom speaks in song. 
 
 If for a time some loved one goes away, 
 And leaves us our appointed work to do, 
 Can we to him or to ourselves be true 
 In mourning his departure day by day. 
 And so our work delay } 
 
36 FOLDED HANDS. 
 
 Nay, if wc love ami lionor, \vc shall make 
 The absence brief by clDing well our task — 
 Not for ourselves, but for the dear One's sake ! 
 y\ncl at his eoniini;-, only of him ask 
 AjiiMoval of our work, which most was clone, 
 Not for ourselves, but our Beiovc^cl One ! 
 
 I wt)uUl be joyful as my days go by, 
 
 Counting;- Ciod's mercies to me. He who bore 
 
 Life's heaviest cross is mine for ever more; 
 
 And I who wait his comini:^, shall not I 
 
 On his sure word rely ? 
 
 And if sometimes the way be rough and steep, 
 
 l?e heavy for the grief he sends to me, 
 
 Or at my waking I would only weep, 
 
 Let me remember these are things to be 
 
 To work his blesstVl will until he come 
 
 And take my hand, and lead me safely home. 
 
 A. w F. RAN no I rn. 
 
 BEST. 
 
 What though our earthly friends grow worn and 
 weary 
 
 With our sad tears ? 
 There liveth One, who, though the way be dreary. 
 
 In love appears, 
 
And chides us gently for our carth-l^orn sorrow, 
 
 And 1)ids us rest 
 Firm in the fiiilh, until his glad to-morrow, 
 
 That all is hest. 
 
 Ikst, though our hopes lie crushed, and torn, and 
 broken 
 
 l^enealh our feet ; 
 Though every prayer for help and guidance spoken 
 
 Seems imcomplete ; 
 Best, though our path with thorns instead of flowers 
 
 Is thickly spread ; 
 15est, though the thunder roll, and storm-cloud lowers 
 
 Above our head. 
 
 No shadows fall until the glad light breaketh 
 
 Ul)()n our way. 
 We '11 patient wait until our I^'ather maketh 
 
 The perfect day. 
 That day shall dawn in peace and free from sadness 
 
 At last for all, 
 And we shall answer, with an unknown gladness, 
 
 The Master's call. 
 
 No more shall earth, with all its dreary noises, 
 
 Vex and annoy. 
 No more shall harsh, unkind, discordant voices 
 
 Our peace destroy. 
 
38 FOLDED 7LLYDS, 
 
 The flowers of love, which here so sadly perish, 
 
 Again shall bloom, 
 And all unworthy thouglits, which here we cherish, 
 
 No more find room. ellen e. miles. 
 
 77/It FOUR ANCHORS. 
 
 The (lay is thine, the night also is thine. Ps. 74: 16. 
 The darkness and the light are both alike to thee. Ps. 139:12. 
 They cast four anchors out of the stern, and wished for the 
 day. Acts 27 : 29. 
 
 The night is dark, but God, my God 
 
 Is here, and in command ; 
 And sure am I, when morning breaks, 
 
 I shall be " at the land." 
 And since I know the darkness is 
 
 To him as sunniest day, 
 I '11 cast the anchor Patience out, 
 
 And wish — but wait for day. 
 
 l^^ierce drives the storm, but winds and waves 
 
 Within his hand are held. 
 And trusting in Omnipotence, 
 
 My fears are sweetly quelled. 
 
 If wrecked, I'm in his failhfid grasp, 
 I '11 trust him though he slay ; 
 
 So letting go the anchor Faith, 
 I '11 wish — but wait for day. 
 
THR LAND OF LIGHT. 39 
 
 Still seem Ihc moments dreary, loiipj ? 
 
 I rest upon the Lord ; 
 I muse on his ''eternal years" 
 
 And feast upon his word ; 
 His promises, so rich and great, 
 
 Arc my support and stay ; 
 I'll drop the anchor Hope ahead, 
 
 And wish — but wait for day. 
 
 wisdom infinite ! O lii;ht 
 And love supreme, divine! 
 
 How can I feel one ilutterinp: doubt, 
 In hands so dear as thine ? 
 
 1 '11 lean on thee, my Best Beloved, 
 
 My heart on thy heart lay ; 
 And casting out the anchor Love, 
 I '11 wish— but wait for day. 
 
 MUS. H. K. UROWN. 
 
 THE LAN J) OF LIGHT. 
 That clime is not like this dull clime of ours ; 
 
 All, all is brightness there ; 
 A sweeter influence breathes around its flowers, 
 
 And a far milder air. 
 No calm below is like tliat calm above, 
 No region here is like that land of love; 
 
40 FOLDED HANDS. 
 
 Earth's softest spring ne'er shed so soft a light ; 
 Earth's brightest summer never shone so bright. 
 
 That sky is not like this sad sky of ours, 
 Tinged with earth's change and care ; 
 No shadow dims it, and no rain-cloud lowers, 
 
 No broken sunshine there ! 
 One everlasting stretch of azure pours 
 Its stainless splendor o'er those sinless shores ; 
 Earth's softest sky ne'er shed so soft a light. 
 Or summer sunset ever shone so bright. 
 
 ANYWHIlRE with JESUS. 
 Anywhere with Jesus, says the Christian heart, 
 Let him take me where he will, so we do not part ; 
 Always sitting at his feet, there 's no cause for fears. 
 Anywhere with Jesus in this vale of tears. 
 
 Anywhere with Jesus, though he leadcth me 
 Where the path is rough and long, where the dan- 
 gers be, 
 Though he taketh from my heart all I love below. 
 Anywhere with Jesus will I gladly go. 
 
 Anywhere with Jesus, in the summer's heat. 
 Anywhere with Jesus, through the winter sleet, 
 Anywhere with Jesus, when the bright sun shines. 
 Anywhere with Jesus, when the day declines. 
 
JN THE BORDER-LAND. 41 
 
 Anywhere with Jesus, though he please to bring 
 
 Into fires the fiercest, into suffering: 
 
 Though he bid me work or wait, or only bear for 
 
 him, 
 Anywhere with Jesus, still shall be my hymn. 
 
 Anywhere with Jesus, though it be the tomb, 
 With its frighting terror, with its dreaded gloom ; 
 Though it be the weariness of a long-drawn life, 
 Fainting with the constant toil, drooping in the 
 strife. 
 
 Anywhere with Jesus, for it cannot be 
 Dreary, dark, or desolate, when he is with me ; 
 He will love me to the end, every need supply, 
 Anywhere with Jesus, should I live or die. 
 
 IN THE BORDER-LAND. 
 'T IS over ! life's pilgrimage story, 
 
 The burden and heat of the day. 
 Before me lies naught but the glory, 
 
 Behind, all the toil of the way. 
 
 O weariness, farewell for ever ! 
 
 Now, " The lame one shall leap like a hart ;" 
 Disappointment and sorrow shall never 
 
 Again fling their anguishing dart. 
 
 Folded Hmids. O 
 
42 FOLDED HANDS. 
 
 Set free from the grasp of temptation, 
 
 From the sin which dominion hath sought, 
 
 I conquer through much tribulation, 
 For Jesus my triumph has bought. 
 
 The gates of the city are nearing. 
 The glory has dazzled my sight ; 
 
 And voices are now within hearing. 
 Last heard in earth's shadowy night. 
 
 My loved ones, my children are waiting ; 
 
 Sweet fruit of my toil " gone before ;" 
 And they stand in the gate with a greeting, 
 
 A welcome for evermore. 
 
 And yet there is melody higher 
 
 Than their outgushing language of love; 
 
 A song of which saints never tire, 
 To be sung in the mansions above. 
 
 The rapture ! oh, how shall I tell it } 
 
 Unspeakable, glorious, divine! 
 A rapture with naught to dispel it, 
 
 A bliss through eternity mine. 
 
 I shall kiss the dear feet of the Master, 
 Behold the fair face of the King: 
 
 O chariot-wheels, speed me faster! 
 O angels, be fleeter of wing ! 
 
"/ SHALL BE SATISFIED^ 43 
 
 Press on till in deep adoration, 
 
 I mingle my voice with the strain : 
 
 " Peace, honor, thanksgiving, salvation, 
 Be unto the Lamb that was slain !" 
 
 BE STILL AND TRUST. 
 For His are strokes of love 
 
 Thou must for thy profit bear: 
 He thy filial fear would move ; 
 Trust thy Father's loving care ; 
 Be still and trust ! 
 
 GERMAN OF ULRICH. 
 
 " / SHALL BE SA TISFIEDy 
 Not here ! not here ! not where the sparkling waters 
 
 Fade into mocking sands as we draw near. 
 Where in the wilderness each footstep falters ; 
 
 I shall be satisfied, but oh, not here ! 
 
 Not here ! where all the dreams of bliss deceive us, 
 Where the worn spirit never gains its goal ; 
 
 Where, haunted ever by the thoughts that grieve us. 
 Across us floods of bitter memory roll. 
 
 There is a land, where every pulse is thrilHng 
 With rapture earth's sojourners may not know: 
 
 Where heaven's repose the weary heart is stilling, 
 And peacefully life's time-tossed currents flow. 
 
44 FOLDED HANDS. 
 
 Far out of sight, while yet the flesh enfolds us, 
 Lies the fair city where our hearts abide ; 
 
 And of its bliss is naught more wondrous told us, 
 Than these few words : " I shall be satisfied." 
 
 Satisfied ! satisfied ! The spirit's yearning 
 
 For sweet companionship with kindred minds, 
 
 The silent love that here meets no returning, 
 The inspiration that no language finds ; 
 
 Shall they be satisfied ? The soul's vague longing. 
 The aching void which nothing earthly fills ? 
 
 Oh, what desires upon my soul are thronging, 
 As I look upwards to the heavenly hills ! 
 
 Thither my weak and weary steps are tending; 
 
 Saviour and Lord ! with thy frail child abide ; 
 Guide me toward home, where, all my wanderings 
 ended, 
 
 I there shall see thee, and be " satisfied." 
 
 AND LET THIS FEEBLE BODY FAIL, 
 
 And let this feeble body fail. 
 
 And let it faint or die; 
 My soul shall quit this mournful vale. 
 
 And soar to worlds on high : 
 
LET THIS FEEBLE BODY FAIL. 45 
 
 Shall join the disembodied saints, 
 
 And find its long-sought rest, 
 That only bliss for which it pants, 
 
 In the Redeemer's breast. 
 
 In hope of that immortal crown, 
 
 I now the cross sustain; 
 And gladly wander up and down, 
 
 And smile at tears and pain. 
 I suffer on my allotted years. 
 
 Till my Deliverer comes 
 To wipe away his servant's tears. 
 
 And take his exile home. 
 
 Oh, what hath Jesus bought for me I 
 
 Before my ravished eyes. 
 Rivers of life divine I see. 
 
 And trees of Paradise ! 
 I see a world of spirits bright 
 
 Who taste the pleasures there ! 
 They all are robed in spotless white. 
 
 And conquering palms they wear. 
 
 Oh, what are all my sufferings here. 
 If, Lord, thou count me meet 
 
 With that enraptured host to appear, 
 And worship at thy feet ! 
 
46 FOLDED HANDS. 
 
 Give joy or grief, give ease or pain, 
 
 Take life or friends away, 
 But let me find them all again 
 
 In that eternal day. ciiarles vvesley. 
 
 MY TIMES ARE IN THY HAND. 
 
 Father, I know that all my life 
 
 Is portioned out for me ; 
 And the changes that will surely 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, 
 Through constant watching wise. 
 
 To meet the glad with joyful smiles, 
 And to wipe the weeping eyes ; 
 
 And a heart at leisure from itself, 
 To soothe and sympathize. 
 
 I would not have the restless will 
 
 That hurries to and fro, 
 Seeking for some great thing to do, 
 
 Or secret thing to know : 
 I would be treated as a child. 
 
 And guided where I go. 
 
MV TIMES ARE IN THY HAND. 47 
 
 Wherever in the world I go, 
 
 In whatsoe'er estate, 
 I have a fellowship with hearts 
 
 To keep and cultivate, 
 And a work of lowly love to do 
 
 For the Lord on whom I wait. 
 
 So I ask thee for the daily strength, 
 
 To none that ask denied ; 
 And a mind to blend with outward life 
 
 While -keeping at thy side : 
 Content to fill a little space, 
 
 If thou be glorified. ' 
 
 And if some things I do not ask 
 
 In my cup of blessing be, 
 I would have my si)irit filled the more 
 
 With grateful love to thee. 
 And careful less to serve thee much, 
 
 Than to please thee perfectly. 
 
 There are briers besetting every path, 
 
 Which 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. 
 
48 FOLDED HANDS. 
 
 In a service which thy love appoints. 
 
 There are no bonds for me, 
 For my secret heart is taught "the truth" 
 
 That makes thy children " free ;" 
 And a life of self-renouncing love 
 
 Is a life of liberty. 
 
 THE GUIDING HAND. 
 "Is this the way, my Father?" " 'T is, my child, 
 Thou must pass through the tangled, weary wild, 
 If thou would 'st reach the city undefiled. 
 Thy peaceful home above." 
 
 " But enemies are round !" " Yes, child, I know 
 That where thou least expect'st, thou 'It find a foe ; 
 But victor thou shalt prove o'er all below. 
 Only seek strength above." 
 
 " My Father, it is dark !" " Child, take my hand, 
 Cling close to me ; I '11 lead thee through the land, 
 Trust my all-seeing care, so shalt thou stand 
 Midst glory bright above." 
 
 " My footsteps seem to slide !" " Child, only raise 
 Thine eyes to vie, then in these slippery ways 
 I will hold up thy goings ; thou shalt praise 
 Me for each step, above." 
 
NEARER HOME. 49 
 
 " O Father, I am weary !" " Child, lean thy head 
 Upon my breast ; it was my love that spread 
 Thy rugged path ; hope on, till I have said, 
 Rest, rest for aye above." 
 
 NEARER HOME. 
 
 One sweetly solemn thought 
 Comes to me o'er and o'er ; 
 
 I 'm nearer my home to-day, 
 Than ever I 've been before. 
 
 Nearer my Father's house, 
 
 Where the many mansions be ;■ 
 
 Nearer the ''great white throne," 
 Nearer the '' Jasper sea." 
 
 Nearer the bound of life, 
 
 Where we lay our burden down ; 
 
 Nearer leaving my cross. 
 Nearer wearing my crown. 
 
 But lying darkly between. 
 
 Flowing down through the night, 
 
 Is that dark and unknown stream 
 That leads me at last to the light. 
 
 Folded Hands. I 
 
50 FOLDED HANDS. 
 
 Father, perfect my trust, 
 
 Strengthen the might of my faith ; 
 
 Let me feel as I would when I stand 
 On the rock of the shore of death. 
 
 Let me feel as I would when my feet 
 Are just slipping over the brink; 
 
 For it may be I 'm nearer my home. 
 Nearer now than I think. 
 
 niCEBE CAREY. 
 
 OUR REST. 
 
 My feet are worn and weary with the march 
 O'er the rough road, and up the steep hillside : 
 
 O city of our God ! I fain would see 
 
 Thy pastures green, where peaceful waters glide. 
 
 My garments travel worn, and stained with dust, 
 Oft rent by briers and thorns that crowd my way, 
 
 Would fain be made, O Lord, our righteousness. 
 Spotless and pure in heaven's unclouded ray. 
 
 My heart is weary of its own deep sin. 
 Sinning, repenting, sinning yet again ; 
 
 When shall my soul Thy glorious presence feel. 
 And find, dear Saviour, it is free from sin? 
 
THE ANSWER. 51 
 
 Patience, poor soul ! The Saviour's feet were worn, 
 The Saviour's heart and hands were weary too ; 
 
 His garments stained, and travelworn, and old. 
 His vision blinded with a pitying dew. 
 
 Love thou the path of sorrow that He trod ; 
 
 ])ear on, and wait in patience for thy rest ; 
 O city of our God ! we soon shall see 
 
 Thy glorious walls, home of the loved and blest. 
 
 THE ANSWER. 
 
 " Allah, Allah !" cried the sick man, 
 
 Racked with pain the long night throug-h ; 
 Till with prayer his heart grew tender. 
 Till his lips like honey grew. 
 
 But at evening came the tempter ; 
 
 Said, " Call louder, child of pain ! 
 See if Allah eyer hear, or 
 
 Answer, ' Here am I,' again." 
 
 Like a stab, the cruel cavil 
 
 Through his brain and pulses went ; 
 
 To his heart an icy coldness, 
 To his brain a darkness sent. 
 
52 FOLDED HANDS. 
 
 Then before him, stands EHas ; 
 
 Says, '' My child, why thus dismayed ? 
 Dost repent thy former fervor ? 
 
 Is thy soul of prayer afraid ?" 
 
 *' Ah !" he cried, " I called so often ; 
 
 Never heard the * Here am I ;' 
 And I thought, God will not pity ; 
 
 Will not turn on me his eye." 
 
 Then the grave Elias answered, 
 
 " God said, ' Rise, Elias, go, 
 Speak to him, the sorely tempted ; 
 
 Lift him from his gulf of woe. 
 
 " ' Tell him that his very longing 
 Is itself an answering prayer ; 
 
 That Jiis prayer, " Come, gracious Allah !" 
 Is my answer. Here am I.' " 
 
 Every inmost aspiration 
 
 Is God's angel undefiled ; 
 And in every " O my Father !"* 
 
 Slumbers deep a " Here, my child." 
 
 THOU KNOWEST ALL. 
 O Christ ! there is no need of words to tell 
 My heart to thee ; thou needest not to spell, 
 
''JV£ WOULD SEE JESUSr 53 
 
 As others must, my hidden thoughts and fears, 
 From out my broken words, my sobs, or tears ; 
 Thou knowest all, knowest far more than I, 
 The inner meaning of each tear or sigh. 
 Thou mayest smile, perchance, as mothers smile 
 On sobbing children, seeing all the while 
 How soon will pass away the endless grief. 
 How soon will come the gladness and relief ; 
 But if thou smilest, yet thy sympathy 
 Measures my grief by what it is to me. 
 
 " WE WOULD SEE JESUS:' 
 
 We would see Jesus, for the shadows lengthen 
 Across the little landscape of our life ; 
 
 We would see Jesus, our weak faith to strengthen 
 For the last weariness, the final strife. 
 
 We would see Jesus, for life's hand hath rested 
 With its dark touch upon both heart and brow ; 
 
 And though our souls have many a billow breasted, 
 Others are rising in the distance now. 
 
 We would see Jesus, the great rock foundation 
 Whereon our feet were set by sovereign grace ; 
 
 Not life, nor death, with all their agitation, 
 Can thence remove us till we see his face. 
 
54 FOLDED HANDS. 
 
 We would see Jesus ; other lights are paling 
 Which for long years we have rejoiced to see; 
 
 The blessings of our pilgrimage are failing — 
 We would not mourn them, for we go to thee. 
 
 We would see Jesus ; yet the spirit lingers 
 Round the dear objects it has loved so long ; 
 
 And earth from earth can scarce unclose its fingers, 
 Our love to thee makes not this love less strong. 
 
 We would see Jesus ; sense is all too blinding, 
 ,And heaven appears too dim, too far away: 
 We would see thee, to gain a sweet reminding 
 That thou hast promised our great debt to pay. 
 
 We would see Jesus ; this is all we 're needing ; 
 
 Strength, joy, and willingness come with the sight: 
 We would see Jesus, dying, risen, pleading ; 
 
 Then welcome day, and farewell mortal night ! 
 
 SOME TIME. 
 Some time, when all life's lessons have been learned, 
 
 And sun and stars for evermore have set, 
 The things which our weak judgment here have 
 spurned, 
 The things o'er which we grieved with lashes 
 wet, 
 
SOME TIME. 55 
 
 Will flash before us out of life's dark night, 
 As stars shine most in deeper tints of blue ; 
 
 And we shall see how all God's plans were right, 
 And how what seemed reproof was love most true. 
 
 And we shall see that while we frown and sio:h, 
 
 God's plans go on as best for you and me : 
 How, when we called, he heeded not our cry, 
 
 Because his wisdom to the end could see. 
 And e'en as prudent parents disallow 
 
 Too much of sweet to craving babyhood, 
 So God, perhaps, is keeping from us now 
 
 Life's sweetest things because it seemeth good. 
 
 And if, sometimes, commingled with life's wine. 
 
 We find the wormwood, and rebel and shrink. 
 Be sure a wiser hand than yours or mine 
 
 Pours out this portion for our lips to drink. 
 And if some friend we love is lying low, 
 
 Where human kisses cannot reach his face. 
 Oh, do not blame the loving Father so. 
 
 But bear your sorrow with obedient grace ; 
 
 And you shall shortly know that lengthened breath 
 Is not the sweetest gift God sends his friends, 
 
 And that, sometimes, the sable pall of death 
 Conceals the fairest boon his love can send. 
 
56 FOLDED HANDS, 
 
 If we could push ajar the gates of life, 
 
 And stand within, and all God's working see, 
 
 We might interpret all this doubt and strife, 
 And for each mystery could find a key. 
 
 But not to-day. Then be content, poor heart ; 
 
 God's plans, like lilies pure and white, unfold. 
 We must not tear the close-shut leaves apart — 
 
 Time will reveal the calyxes of gold. 
 And if, through patient toil, we reach the land 
 
 Where tired feet, with sandals loose, may rest. 
 When we shall clearly know and understand, 
 
 I think that we will say that " God knew best." 
 
 LONGINGS. 
 
 When shall I be at rest .? My trembling heart 
 Grows weary of its burden, sickening still 
 With hope deferred. Oh, that it were Thy will 
 
 To loose my bonds and take me where thou art. 
 
 When shall I be at rest } My eyes grow dim 
 With straining through the gloom ; I scarce can 
 
 see 
 The waymarks that my Saviour left for me ; 
 
 Would it were morn, and I were safe with him. 
 
PEACE. 57 
 
 Oh, that I were at rest, like some I love. 
 
 Whose last fond looks drew half my life away, 
 Seeming to plead that either they might stay 
 
 With me on earth, or I with them above. 
 
 But why these murmurs ? Thou didst never shrink 
 From any toil or weariness for me, 
 Not even from that last deep agony. 
 
 Shall I beneath my little trials sink ? 
 
 No, Lord ; for when I am indeed at rest, 
 One taste of that deep bliss will quite efface 
 The sternest memories of my earthly race, 
 
 Save but to swell the sense of being blest. 
 
 Then lay on me whatever cross I need 
 
 To bring me there. I know thou canst not be 
 Unkind, unfaithful, or untrue to me. 
 
 I '11 toil for thee, since thou for me didst bleed ! 
 
 PEACE. 
 
 Life's mystery — deep, restless as the ocean, 
 Hath surged and wailed for ages to and fro ; 
 
 Earth's generations watch its ceaseless motion, 
 As in and out its hollow meanings flow : 
 
 Shivering and yearning by that unknown sea, 
 
 Let my soul calm itself, O Christ, in thee. 
 
 Folded Hands. 8 
 
58 FOLDED HANDS. 
 
 Life's sorrows with inexorable power 
 Sweep desolating o'er this mortal plain ; 
 
 And human loves and hopes fly as the chaff, 
 
 Borne by the whirlwind from the ripened grain : 
 
 Ah, when before that blast my hopes all flee. 
 
 Let my soul calm itself, O Christ, in thee. 
 
 Between the mysteries of death and life, 
 
 Thou standest, loving, guiding, not explaining ; 
 
 We ask, and thou art silent ; yet we gaze. 
 
 And our charmed hearts forget their drear com- 
 plaining. 
 
 No crushing fate, no stony destiny ; 
 
 Thou Lamb that hast been slain, we rest in thee. 
 
 The many waves of thought, the mighty tide. 
 The ground-swell that rolls up from other lands. 
 
 From far-off lands, from dim eternal shores. 
 
 Whose echo dashes on life's wave-w^orn strands. 
 
 This vague, dark tumult of the inner sea 
 
 Grows calm, grows bright, O risen Lord, in thee. 
 
 Thy pierced hand guides the mysterious wheels, 
 Thy thorn-crowned brow now wears the crown 
 of power ; 
 And when the dark enigma presseth sore 
 
 Thy patient voice saith, " Watch with me one 
 hour." 
 
RECONCILED. 59 
 
 As sinks the moaning river in the sea, 
 In silver peace, so sinks my soul in Thee. 
 
 H. B. STOWE. 
 
 RECONCILED. 
 Oh, years gone down into the past, 
 
 What pleasant memories come to mc 
 Of your untroubled days of ease, 
 
 And hours of almost ecstasy ! 
 
 Yet would I have no moon stand siill 
 Where life's most pleasant valleys lie, 
 
 Nor wheel the planet of the day 
 
 Back on his pathway through the sky. 
 
 For though, when youthful pleasures died, 
 My youth itself went with them, too, 
 
 To-day, ay, even this very hour. 
 Is the best hour I ever knew. 
 
 Not that my Father gives to me 
 
 More blessings than in days gone by. 
 
 Dropping in my uplifted hands 
 
 All things for which. I blindly cry ; 
 
 But that his plans and purposes 
 
 Have grown to me less strange and dim, 
 And where I cannot understand 
 
 I trust the issue unto him. 
 
6o FOLDED HANDS. 
 
 And, spite of many broken dreams, 
 This have I truly learned to say : 
 
 Prayers that I thought unanswered once, 
 Were answered in God's own best way. 
 
 And though some hopes I cherished once 
 Perished untimely in their birth. 
 
 Yet have I been beloved and blest 
 Beyond the measure of my worth. 
 
 And sometimes in my hours of grief, 
 For moments I have come to stand 
 
 Where, in the sorrows on me laid, 
 I felt the chastening of God's hand ; 
 
 Then learned I that the weakest ones 
 Are kept securest from life's harms, 
 
 And that the tender lambs alone 
 Are carried in the Shepherd's arms. 
 
 And sitting by the wayside blind, 
 He is the nearest to the light 
 
 Who crieth out most earnestly, 
 
 " Lord, that I might receive my sight !" 
 
 O feet, grown weary as ye walk, 
 
 Where down life's hill my pathway lies, 
 
 What care I, while my soul can mount. 
 As the young eagle mounts the skies ? 
 
ENDURANCE. 6i 
 
 O eyes, with weeping faded out, 
 What matters it how dim ye be ? 
 
 My inner vision sweeps untired 
 The reaches of eternity. 
 
 O death, most dreaded power of all, 
 
 When the last moment comes, and thou 
 
 Darkenest the windows of my soul 
 Through which I look on nature now ; 
 
 Yea, when mortality dissolves. 
 
 Shall I not meet thine hour unawed ? 
 
 My house eternal in the heavens 
 Is lighted by the smile of God ! 
 
 PHOEBE CAREY. 
 
 ENDURANCE. 
 
 A STRONG and mailed angel, 
 With eyes serene and deep. 
 
 Unwearied and unwearying, 
 His patient watch doth keep. 
 
 A strong and mailed angel. 
 In the midnight and the day, 
 
 Walking with me at my labor, 
 Kneeling by me when I pray. 
 
62 FOLDED HANDS. 
 
 What he says no other heareth ; 
 
 None Hsten save the stars, 
 That move in armed battalions, 
 
 Clad with the strength of Mars. 
 
 Low are the words he speaketh : 
 " Young dreamer, God is great ! 
 
 'T is glorious to suffer, 
 'T is majesty to wait !" 
 
 Oh, angel of Endurance ! 
 
 Oh, saintly and sublime ! 
 White are the armed legions 
 
 That tread the halls of time ! 
 
 Blessed and brave and holy ! 
 
 The olive on my heart, 
 Baptized with thy baptizing, 
 
 Shall never more depart. 
 
 Oh, strong and mailed angel ! 
 
 Thy trailing robes I see ; 
 Read other souls the lesson 
 
 So meekly read to me. 
 
 Still chant the same grand anthem. 
 
 The beautiful and great, 
 ** 'T is glorious to suffer, 
 
 'T is majesty to wait !" l. ii. f. 
 
^ IV££ r MAR yORAM. dz 
 
 SWEET MARJORAM. 
 God's garden, where tall lilies grow, 
 
 Silver and golden and sweet ; 
 Where crimson roses only blow 
 
 To shed their bloom at his feet ; 
 Purple pansies, with hearts of fire, 
 
 Violets bathed in their own perfume. 
 'Mid the rainbow tangle of flowers 
 
 Can a little herb find room ? 
 
 God's garden, where the thrushes sing 
 
 Ere spring has yet begun, 
 Where larks with dew upon the wing 
 
 Rise warbling to the sun. 
 Nightingales chant as the day grows dim, 
 
 Gayly glistens the hummingbird. 
 Through the choral notes of that great hymn 
 
 Can a little wren be heard } 
 
 Herbs can sweeten the bleak hillside 
 
 Where flowers can never grow ; 
 Through winter frosts the wren will bide 
 
 And sing above the snow ; 
 And God accepts with tender love 
 
 Their service true and sweet ; 
 Can nightingales and roses give 
 
 An offering more complete 1 c. brooks. 
 
64 FOLDED HANDS. 
 
 THE GAIN OF LOSS. 
 " Nay, give me back my blossoms," 
 
 Said the palm-tree to the Nile ; 
 But the stream flowed on unheeding, 
 
 With its old familiar smile. 
 With soft and silver smile it flowed, 
 
 With its soft and silver smile, 
 All heedless of the palm-tree's sigh, 
 
 That strange, long-wandering Nile ! 
 
 It seemed to say, "'Tis better far 
 
 To leave your flowers with me ; 
 I '11 bear their yellow beauty on 
 
 To the wondering, wondering sea. 
 ** 'T is better they should float away 
 
 Upon my dusky wave. 
 Than find upon their native stem 
 
 A useless home and grave. 
 " If your sweet flowers remain with you. 
 
 Fruitless your boughs must be ; 
 'T is their departure brings the fruits : 
 
 Give your bright flowers to me. 
 " Nay, ask not back your blossoms," 
 
 To the palm-tree said the Nile ; 
 " Let me keep them," said the river, 
 
 With its sweet and sunny smile. 
 
THE GAIN OF LOSS. 65 
 
 And the palm gave up its blossoms 
 
 To its friend so wise and old, 
 And saw them, all unsighing. 
 
 Float down the river's gold. 
 
 The amber tresses vanished, 
 
 And the dear spring fragrance fled, 
 
 But the welcome fruit in clusters 
 Came richly up instead. 
 
 'T is thus we gain by losing. 
 
 And win by failure here ; 
 We doff the gleaming tinsel. 
 
 The golden crown to wear. 
 
 Our sickness is our healing, 
 
 Our weakness is our might ; 
 Life is but death's fair offspring, 
 
 And day the child of night. 
 
 'T is thus we rise by setting, 
 
 Through darkness reach our day : 
 
 Our own way hourly losing. 
 To find the heavenly way. 
 
 'T is by defeat we conquer, 
 
 Grow rich by growing poor, 
 And from our largest giving 
 
 We draw our fullest store. 
 
 Pol.leil Haiiils. 
 
66 FOLDED HANDS. 
 
 Then let the blossoms perish, 
 And let the fragrance go ; 
 
 All the surer and the larger 
 Is the harvest we shall know. 
 
 Suffering is the work now sent ; 
 Nothing can I do but lie 
 Suffering as the hours go by : 
 All my powers to this are bent ; 
 Suffering is my gain ; I bow 
 To my heavenly Father's will, 
 And receive it, hushed and still : 
 Suffering is my worship now. 
 
 RICIITER, 
 
 WHA T THEN? 
 
 What then ? Why, then another pilgrim song, 
 And then a hush of rest, divinely granted ; 
 
 And then a thirsty stage, (ah me, so long !) 
 
 And then a brook just where it most is wanted. 
 
 What then ? The pitching ot the evening tent, 
 And then, perchance, a pillow rough and thorny ; 
 
 And then some sweet and tender message, sent 
 To cheer the faint one for to-morrow's journey. 
 
" IT IS /." 67 
 
 What then ? The wailing of the midnight wind, 
 A feverish sleep, a heart oppressed and aching; 
 
 And then a little water-cruse to find 
 
 Close at my pillow, ready for my waking. 
 
 What then ? I am not careful to inquire ; 
 
 I know there will be tears and fears and sorrows ; 
 And then a loving Saviour drawing nigher. 
 
 And saying, " I will answer for the morrow." 
 
 What then } For all my sins his pardoning grace ; 
 
 For all my wants and woes his loving kindness ; 
 For darkest shades the shining of God's face, 
 
 And Christ's own hand to lead me in my blind- 
 ness. 
 
 What then .^ A shadowy valley, lone and dim. 
 And then a deep and darkly-rolling river ; 
 
 And then a flood of light, a seraph's hymn, 
 And God's own smile for ever and for ever ! 
 
 ^ JANE CREWDSON. 
 
 ''IT IS I r 
 
 " It is so hard !" I said. 
 And sat within and told my troubles o'er ; 
 
 A hand fell softly on my bowed head, 
 Yet no one passed my door. 
 
68 FOLDED HANDS. 
 
 " A fancy !" then I said : 
 " But oh, to feel that touch for evermore 
 
 Methinks, indeed,.! could be comforted !" 
 And sorrowed as before. 
 
 " No other heart can know !" 
 Breaks out my grief again with bitter cry : 
 
 " And God is far — so far, my faith lets go 
 Her hold on heaven, to die !" 
 
 Then some one stooped low. 
 His heart full throbbing as with tears close by 
 
 " Lord, is it thou so moved by my woe ?" 
 He answered, " It is I !" 
 
 THE ELDER BROTHER. 
 
 Yes, for me, for me He careth 
 With a brother's tender care ; 
 
 Yes, with me, with me He shareth 
 Every burden, every fear. 
 
 Yes, for me He standeth pleading 
 At the mercy-seat above, 
 
 Ever for me interceding, 
 Constant in untiring love. 
 
THE BLESSING OF SORROW. 69 
 
 Yes, in me abroad He shcddeth 
 Joys unearthly, love and light ; 
 
 And to cover me He spreadeth 
 Mis paternal wing of might. 
 
 Yes, in mc, in me lie dvvelleth, 
 
 I in Him, and He in me; 
 And my empty soul He filleth, 
 
 Here, and through eternity. 
 
 Thus I wait for His appearing. 
 Singing all the way to heaven ; 
 
 Such the joyful song of morning. 
 Such the tranquil song of even. 
 
 BONAR. 
 
 THE BLESSING OF SORROW. 
 
 I ASKED of my spirit within mc, 
 
 A question that troubled me quite — 
 A querulous question of nature, 
 
 Because I was short in my sight. 
 I asked it to search out the reason 
 
 Why trouble should light upon earth, 
 And tears should be mingled with blessing, 
 
 And moans with the ringing of mirth. 
 
70 FOLDED HANDS. 
 
 I asked why the beautiful sunshine 
 
 Should be overclouded for some ; 
 Why the wings of some terrible evil 
 
 Should ever close over a home : 
 I asked why the meek and the holy, 
 
 Who journey — their hand in His own, 
 Should only be met with God's anger — 
 
 For bread, should be given a stone. 
 
 My spirit within me was silent ; 
 
 A voice whispered low through the trees, 
 " Do not lay on your shoulders the burden 
 
 Of mystical questions like these, 
 Nor ask with unsatisfied longings 
 
 Why bitterness lurks in man's cup. 
 Receive it as destiny's mission. 
 
 This blasting of beauty and hope." 
 
 But a voice, like the voice of an angel. 
 
 Said, " Turn thee, and question again : 
 God never afflicts for his pleasure, 
 
 Nor troubles the children of men. 
 Mis hand is the hand of a Father, 
 
 His chastening is good in disguise, 
 Though the clouds which are resting about you 
 
 May darken this truth from your eyes. 
 
THE BLESSING OE SORROW. 71 
 
 " The eagle, with all the devotion 
 
 Our Father has placed in her breast, 
 In tenderest love for her eaglets, 
 
 Doth ruin the place of her nest. 
 Then fluttering above and around them. 
 
 She draws them and wins them to rise, 
 Away from the cold, barren mountains, 
 
 Above to the beautiful skies. 
 
 " And you," said the voice, '* like the eagle, 
 
 Do build you some wonderful nest. 
 Do cherish and cling to your treasures. 
 
 And draw them up close to your breast. 
 So the Father, in tender compassion. 
 
 Stoops down with a pitying eye, 
 And scatters the beautiful blessings, 
 
 To teach his poor eaglets to fly. 
 
 " And then," said the voice, growing softer, 
 
 " Some things which you counted God's wrath, 
 Are only his wonderful blessings. 
 
 Revealing themselves in your path ; 
 And that which you counted an evil, 
 
 Was haply an angel of light, 
 God's beautiful angel of sorrow. 
 
 Who winged his way through the night." 
 
72 FOLDED HANDS. 
 
 THE SNOIV-BHW. 
 He sits in winter's sleet, 
 And the snow is round his feet, 
 
 lUit he cares not for the cold; 
 For his little cheerful heart 
 Thinks the snow as fair a part 
 
 As the summer's green and gold. 
 
 On the branches bare and brown. 
 With their crystals for a crown, 
 
 Sits the little winter bird ; 
 In the dark and cloudy days 
 Lightening the lonely ways 
 
 With his constant cheering word. 
 
 To his mission he is true ; 
 God hath work for him to do : 
 
 With his little song to cheer, 
 In his sweet life's simple speech 
 Lessons high and glad to teach, 
 
 In the dark days of the year. 
 
 Ah, his little heart is strong, 
 And he never thinks it wrong 
 
 That to him this lot is given ; 
 Never envies birds that sing 
 In the summer and the spring, 
 
 Underneath a sunny heaven. 
 
THE SNOW-BIRD. 
 
 So he is a teacher sent 
 With a lesson of content 
 
 To all the spirits that are sad; 
 And his song with richest freight 
 Comes to all the desolate, 
 
 Bidding sorrow's self be glad. 
 
 " Wouldst thou choose thy time or way ?" 
 Does the little poet say. 
 
 " God hath ordered these for thee : 
 Where thy life can serve him best 
 He hath set thee ; only rest, 
 
 And his purpose thou shalt see." 
 
 Ye around whose life the snow 
 Lieth heavily and low, 
 
 Take a lesson from the bird : 
 As God giveth you a day, 
 Strive to charm the gloom away. 
 
 Whether welcomed or unheard. 
 
 God hath singers, many a one, 
 Who can praise him in the sun, 
 
 As the happy cherubim ; 
 But I think the songs they raise 
 Who are dwellers in dark ways. 
 
 Are a sweeter sound to him. 
 
 Poiaal ll.iii.lg. 10 
 
 73 
 
74 FOLDED HANDS. 
 
 Not by outward joy or sweetness 
 Does he judge of life's completeness, 
 
 But by surer test of truth ; 
 It may be he gives the grace 
 Of his heaven's highest place 
 
 To the lowly of the earth. 
 
 SHADOWS. 
 The clouds hang heavy round my way, 
 
 I cannot sec ; 
 But throuQ-h the darkness I believe 
 
 God Icadcth me. 
 'T is sweet to keep my hand in his 
 
 While all is dim, 
 To close my weary, aching eyes, 
 
 And follow him. 
 Through many a thorny path he leads 
 
 My tired feet ; 
 Through many a path of tears I go, 
 
 But it is sweet 
 To know that he is close to me. 
 
 My God, my Guide. 
 lie Icadeth me, and so I walk 
 
 Quite satisfied. 
 
AfV PSALM. 75 
 
 To blind my eyes he may reveal 
 
 No light at all, 
 But while I lean on his strong arm 
 
 I cannot fall. 
 
 MV PSALM. 
 I MOURN no more my vanished years ; 
 
 Beneath a tender rain, 
 An April rain of smiles and tears, 
 
 My heart grows young again. 
 
 The west winds blow, and singing low, 
 I hear the glad streams run ; 
 
 The windows of my heart I throw 
 Wide open to the sun. 
 
 No longer forward or behind 
 
 I look in hope or fear ; 
 But, grateful, take the good I find, 
 
 The best of now and here. 
 
 I plough no more a desert land. 
 
 To harvest weed or tare ; 
 The manna dropping from God's hand 
 
 Rebukes my painful care. 
 
76 FOLDED HANDS. 
 
 I break my pilgrim staff, I lay 
 
 Aside the toiling oar; 
 The angel sought so far away, 
 
 I welcome at my door. 
 
 The airs of spring may never play 
 
 Among the ripening corn, 
 Nor freshness of the flowers of May 
 
 Blow through the autumn morn. 
 
 Yet shall the blue-eyed gentian look 
 Through fringed lids to heaven, 
 
 And the pale aster in the brook 
 Shall see its image given. 
 
 The woods shall wear their robes of praise, 
 
 The south wind softly sigh, 
 And sweet calm days, in golden haze, 
 
 Melt down the amber sky. 
 
 All as God wills, who wisely heeds, 
 
 To give or to withhold ; 
 And knoweth more of all my needs 
 
 Than all my prayers have told. 
 
 Enough that blessings undeserved 
 Have marked my erring track ; 
 
 That wheresoe'er my feet have swerved. 
 His chastening turned me back ; 
 
MV PSALM. 77 
 
 That more and more a providence 
 
 Of love is understood, 
 Making the streams of time and sense 
 
 Sweet with eternal good ; 
 
 That death seems but a covered way 
 
 That opens into light, 
 Wherein the blinded child can stray 
 
 Beyond the Father's sight ; 
 
 That care and trial seem at last. 
 
 Through Memory's sunset air. 
 Like mountain ranges overpast, 
 
 In purple distance fair ; 
 
 That all the jarring notes of life 
 
 Seem blended in a psalm. 
 And all the angles of its strife 
 
 Slow rounding into calm. 
 
 And so the shadows fall apart. 
 
 And so the west winds play. 
 And all the windows of my heart 
 
 I open to the day. joiin g. wihttikk. 
 
 Forenoon, and afternoon, and night — forenoon. 
 And afternoon, and night — forenoon — and what ? 
 The empty song repeats itself no more ? 
 
78 FOLDED HANDS. 
 
 Yes, that is life. Make this forenoon sublime, 
 This afternoon a psalm, this night a prayer, 
 And time is conquered, and thy crown is won ! 
 
 EDMUND ROWLAND SILL. 
 
 THOU WHT SHOW ME THE PATH OF LIFE:' 
 Psalm i6: ii. 
 
 Thy way, not mine, O Lord ! 
 
 However dark it be ; 
 Lead me by thine own hand, 
 
 Choose out the path for me. 
 
 Smooth let it be, or rough, 
 
 It shall be still the best; 
 Winding or straight, it matters not, 
 
 It leads me to thy rest. 
 
 I dare not choose my lot; 
 
 I would not, if I might ; 
 Choose thou for me, O God ! 
 
 So shall I walk aright. 
 
 The kingdom that I seek 
 
 Is thine, so let the way 
 That leads to it be thine. 
 
 Else I must surely stray. 
 
THE GATE OE HEAVEN. 79 
 
 Choose thou for me, my friends, 
 My sickness and my health ; 
 
 Choose thou my cares for me, 
 My poverty or wealth. 
 
 Not mine, not mine the choice, 
 In things or great or small ; 
 
 Be thou my guide, my strength, 
 
 My wisdom, and my all. bonar. 
 
 THE GA TE OE HE A VEN. 
 
 I 'm kneeling at the threshold, weary, faint, and sore ; 
 Waiting for the dawning, the opening of the door: 
 Waiting till the Master shall bid me rise and come 
 To the glory of his presence, to the gladness of 
 his home. 
 
 A weary path I 've travelled, 'mid darkness, storm, 
 
 and strife; 
 Bearing many a burden, struggling for my life; 
 But now the morn is breaking, my toil will soon be 
 
 o'er, 
 I 'm kneeling at the threshold, my hand is on the 
 
 door. 
 
 Methinks I hear the voices of the blessed as they 
 
 stand. 
 Singing in the sunshine of that better land. 
 
8o FOLDED HANDS. 
 
 Oh, would that I were with them, amid their shi- 
 ning throng, 
 Mingling in their worship, joining in their song. 
 
 The friends that started with me have entered long 
 
 ago; 
 One by one they left me, struggling with the foe ; 
 Their pilgrimage was shorter, their triumph sooner 
 
 won ; 
 How lovingly they'll hail me when my toil is done! 
 
 With them the blessed angels, that know no grief 
 
 or sin, 
 I see them by the portals, prepared to let me in ; 
 O Lord, I wait thy pleasure, thy time and way are 
 
 best, 
 But I am wasted, worn and weary ; Father, bid me 
 
 rest ! GUTHRIE. 
 
 ALL IN ALL. 
 
 Son of man. Thou Elder Brother, 
 Joy of every loving heart ; 
 
 More to me than every other, 
 More than life itself thou art ; 
 
ALL IN ALL, 8i 
 
 Every thought of thee is pleasure, 
 
 BHssful every hour of prayer; 
 Benedictions without measure 
 
 Whisper round me everywhere. 
 
 Earth may be a desert dreary, 
 
 Life a dark and cloudy day, 
 And the human spirit, weary, 
 
 Mark with tears its shadowed way. 
 Yet for me the world is glory. 
 
 Life a rapturous swell of love — 
 Glad beginning of a story 
 
 Which shall end in bliss above. 
 
 Time has not so deep a sadness. 
 
 But thy presence and thine aid 
 Shall transform it into gladness ; 
 
 Souls can never be afraid, 
 O'er whom, like a robe of blessing. 
 
 Heavenly sympathy descends — 
 Whom thy hand, with fond caressing, 
 
 Leads toward life that never ends. 
 
 Oh, the blessedness supernal 
 
 Of that life beyond the grave ! 
 Oh, the peace and rest eternal 
 
 Far beyond the Jordan wave ! 
 
 Ilan.is. 1 1 
 
82 FOLDED HANDS. 
 
 Tn the everlasting- brightness 
 Heaniing from thy sacred face, 
 
 (jrant my soul, when washed to whiteness, 
 An eternal resting-place. 
 
 KKV, UOKKKl" I!. 11AM,. 
 
 i'.oirs ni.i-:ssi:n raix. 
 llow we have longed and i)rayed for rain ! 
 
 'I'he tliii\sty earlh 
 Tlalh lifted pleading hands in vain, 
 
 While dreary dearth 
 And heal and glare have mocked her })ain, 
 Have slui\elled all the lields of grain. 
 Curled u}) the corn, antl scorched the plain, 
 Tamed the wild brook, whose sad refrain, 
 Is only this, '* Send rain ! send rain !" 
 
 And now Ciod sends his welcome rain ! 
 
 The grateful earlh 
 l^'orgets her weary hours of pain, 
 
 And stretches forth 
 (dad greeting hands from every plain ; 
 'I'he waving corn unfurls again; 
 We K)ok for harvests rich with grain. 
 And smile to hear the brook's refrain — 
 " l^less Ciod for rain ! bless God for rain !" 
 
IN THE ROUGH, 83 
 
 So have I fainted by the way, 
 
 At heart o'ercome 
 By heat and burden of the day, 
 
 Too blind and dumb 
 To more than lift my hands and say- 
 Stricken and helpless as I lay- 
 In feeble, dull, uncertain way, 
 '' O loving Christ ! my pain allay ! 
 Send help ! send help to me, I pray !" 
 
 And help has come ; as glad and free 
 
 As fell the rain, 
 So fell his tender love on me, 
 
 And soothed my pain. 
 My thirsty soul drank greedily 
 The sweet cool drops, and it may be 
 That drought and thirst were good for me, 
 That I might say most gratefully, 
 " Oh, rain from heaven ! bless God for thee !" 
 
 MRS. S. M. WALSH. 
 
 IN THE ROUGH. 
 The marble was pure and white, 
 
 Though only a block at best ; 
 But the artist, with inward sight, 
 
 Looked farther than all the rest 
 
84 FOLDED HANDS. 
 
 And saw, in the hard, rough stone. 
 The loveliest statue the sun shone on. 
 
 So he set to work with care, 
 
 And chiselled a form of grace — 
 A figure divinely fair, 
 
 With a tender, beautiful face ; 
 But the blows were hard and fast, 
 That brought from the marble that work at last. 
 
 So I think that human lives 
 
 Must bear God's chisel keen ; 
 If the spirit yearns and strives 
 For the better life unseen. 
 For men are only blocks at best, 
 Till the chiselling brings out all the rest. 
 
 THE SURE REFUGE. 
 On ! I know the hand that is guiding me 
 
 Through the shadow to the light. 
 And I know that all betiding me 
 
 Is meted out aright. 
 I know that the thorny path I tread 
 
 Is ruled with a golden line. 
 And I know that the darker life's tangled thread, 
 
 The brighter the rich design. 
 
E VENING ERA YER. 85 
 
 When faints and fails each wilderness hope, 
 
 And the lamp of life burns dim, 
 Oh ! I know where to find the honey-drop 
 
 On the bitter chalice brim. 
 For I see, though veiled from my mortal sight, 
 
 God's plan is all complete ; 
 Though the darkness at present be not light. 
 
 And the bitter be not sweet. 
 I can wait till the dayspring shall overflow 
 
 The night of pain and care. 
 For I know there 's a blessing for every woe, 
 
 A promise for every prayer. 
 Yes, I feel that the hand that is holding me 
 
 Will ever hold me fast; 
 And the strength of the arms that arc folding me 
 
 Will keep me to the last. 
 
 EVENING PRAYER. 
 The day is ended. Ere I sink to sleep 
 
 My weary spirit seeks repose in Thine ; 
 Father, forgive my weariness, and keep 
 This little life of mine. 
 
 With loving-kindness curtain Thou my bed. 
 And cool in rest my burning pilgrim feet ; 
 Thy pardon be the pillow for my head : 
 So shall my sleep be sweet. 
 
S6 FOLDED HANDS. 
 
 At peace with all the world, dear Lord, and thee, 
 
 No fears my soul's unwavering faith can shake ; 
 All's well, whichever side the grave for me 
 The morning light may break.. 
 
 UNDER GOD'S HAND. 
 
 Dear suffering one! weary must be thy days. 
 Lying so helpless on thy bed of pain ; 
 
 With hourly need of God's abundant grace, 
 What canst thou do but pray and pray again } 
 
 And in the lonely hours of silent night, 
 
 When slumber comes in visits few and brief, 
 
 Watching and longing for the morning light, 
 Prayer only can give sure and sweet relief. 
 
 And if thy faith e'er falter, doubt arise. 
 
 And for a moment thy weak heart complain, 
 
 If tempted e'er to ask the reason why 
 Thy lot must be so full of grief and pain, 
 
 Then pray, and surely He who heareth prayer. 
 Perchance, unseen, beside thy couch shall stand ; 
 
 Will lift the burdening shadows of despair. 
 And closer clasp in His thy helpless hand. 
 
MV ANGEL. 87 
 
 And whisper, "Child, I love thee, wait and trust, 
 Till I in thee through suffering shall have wrought 
 
 Such patient meekness, that full many must. 
 Through thy example, unto Christ be brought." 
 
 Then will I say to thee, " It is enough, 
 Thy weary cross far evermore lay down : 
 
 Thou 'st borne it bravely o'er life's ocean rough. 
 Receive from my own hand thy promised crown." 
 
 List ! 't is thy Father's voice, " Dear child, come 
 home," 
 And sister spirits bid thee welcome there ; 
 " Perfect through suffering" join that blood-washed 
 throng, 
 Where God's own hand shall wipe away each tear. 
 
 EMILY ELLET. 
 
 MY ANGEL. 
 Pain stood beside me in my lonely room. 
 And laid her hand on me, till shudderingly 
 I prayed her to give respite, and be kind. 
 But respite there was none, for all my prayer ; 
 And as she laid her fingers on my brow. 
 The sharp wild throbbing pierced thro' all my brain. 
 And flashed along the slender, living nerve. 
 Until I cried, •' O God, be pitiful ! 
 Thy weakest child asks shelter 'neath thy care !" 
 
88 FOLDED HANDS. 
 
 Tears came to soften my strained, burning eyes; 
 And as I looked on Pain, my shadowy guest, 
 Her face was shining with a heavenly light, 
 And tender as a mother's sweetest glance. 
 And then she spoke with soft and loving tone : 
 " No cruel foe, dear child, but truest friend, 
 I come, commissioned by thy risen Lord 
 To purge thy dross and draw thy heart above. 
 Were life too sweet, heaven would be all forgot, 
 For only weary souls will sigh for rest. 
 
 " Thy Master bore the cross ; and all of his 
 Must follow in his pathway to the end. 
 He wore a crown of thorns, which pierced his brow 
 With sharp of agony no mortal knows. 
 And so, when on thy brow I lay a crown, 
 Woven with throbs of suffering fierce and wild, 
 The Elder Brother then will seem more near, 
 Since faintly thou art sharer in his woe." 
 
 Pain stands beside me still within my room, 
 
 And still her fingers rest upon my brow ; 
 
 My flesh and heart yet quiver 'neath her touch ; 
 
 But when I can look upward in her face, 
 
 She smiles so sweet upon me that I say, 
 
 *' O blessed Pain ! the dear Lord knoweth best, 
 
ENOUGH. 89 
 
 And I will clasp his hand, and wait his will. 
 E'en to the weakest he gives strength and grace ; 
 But what am I beneath the infinite Eye, 
 That I should have an angel in my room ?" 
 
 S. B. T. 
 
 ENOUGH. 
 I AM SO weak, dear Lord, I cannot stand 
 One moment without thee ; 
 But oh, the tenderness of thine infolding. 
 And oh, the faithfulness of thine upholding. 
 And oh, the strength of thy right hand ! 
 That strength is enough for me. 
 
 I am so needy. Lord ! But well I know 
 All fulness dwells in thee ; 
 And hour by hour that never-failing treasure 
 Supplies and fills in overflowing measure 
 My least, my greatest need. And so 
 Thy grace is enough for me. 
 
 It is so sweet to trust thy word alone ; 
 I do not ask to see 
 The unveiling of thy purpose, or the shining 
 Of future light on mysteries entwining ; 
 
 Thy promise-roll is all my own — 
 
 Thy word is enough for me. 
 12 
 
90 
 
 FOLDED HANDS, 
 
 The human heart asks love. But now I know- 
 That my heart hath from thee 
 All true and full and marvellous affection, 
 So near, so human ! yet divine perfection 
 Thrills gloriously the mighty glow ! 
 Thy love is enough for me. 
 
 There were strange soul-depths, restless, vast, and 
 broad, 
 Unfathomed as the sea — 
 An infinite craving for some infinite stilling; 
 But now thy perfect peace is perfect filling ; 
 Lord Jesus Christ, my Lord and God, 
 Thou, thou art enough for me ! 
 
 FRANCES RIDLEY HAVERGAL. 
 
 COMFORT OR COMPLAINT. 
 Sing a hymn to Jesus when the heart is faint ; 
 Tell it all to Jesus, comfort or complaint : 
 If the work is sorrow, if the way be long. 
 If thou dreadst the morrow, tell it him in song. 
 Though thy heart be aching for the crown and palm, 
 Keep thy spirit waking with a faithful psalm. 
 Jesus, we are lowly, thou art very high ; 
 We are all unholy, thou art purity; 
 We are frail and fleeting, thou art still the same, 
 All life's joys are meeting in thy blessed name. 
 
HE A VENWARD. 9 1 
 
 Sing a hymn to Jesns when thy heart is faint ; 
 Tell it all to Jesus, comfort or complaint. 
 
 All his words are music, though they make me weep ; 
 
 Infinitely tender, infinitely deep ; 
 
 Time can never render all in him I see, 
 
 Infinitely tender human Deity. 
 
 Sing a hymn to Jesus when thy heart is faint ; 
 
 Tell it all to Jesus, comfort or complaint. 
 
 Jesus, let me love thee, infinitely sweet ! 
 What are the poor odors I bring unto thy feet } 
 Yet I love thee, love thee ! Come into my heart, 
 And ere long remove me to be where thou art. 
 Thus I sing to Jesus when my heart is faint ; 
 Tell it all to Jesus, comfort or complaint. 
 
 HE A VENWARD. 
 
 Heaven is not far away 
 
 To those who see aright ; 
 The veil is thin that falls between 
 
 The darkness and the light. 
 'T's only just a step, 
 
 The opening of a door, 
 And no more night, or tears, 
 
 Or pains, for evermore. 
 
92 FOLDED HANDS. 
 
 The sorrow-cloud that hangs 
 
 Threatening above our head, 
 Mayliap i:)Ours down its wrath 
 
 Upon the way wc tread ; 
 lUit toward tlie blue above, 
 
 Heavenward by faith is seen 
 'J1ie glory bright that lines the cloud 
 
 With radiant silver sheen. 
 
 Though while the tempests rage, 
 
 And hearts grow dumb with fear, 
 We cannot see the light above, 
 
 Jkit only know 'tis there; 
 We know the hand that leads 
 
 Will hold us in the way, 
 And not a cloud obscure 
 
 The light of heaven some day. 
 
 I WILL not let Thee go, thou help in time of need ! 
 
 Heap ill on ill, I trust thee still, 
 1^'en when it seems as thou wouldst slay indeed ! 
 Do as thou wilt with me, I yet will cling to thee ! 
 Hide Ihou thy face, yet, help in lime of need. 
 
 I will not let thee go ! 
 
 GERMAN UF DKSZLKR. 
 
PATIENCE. 93 
 
 PA TII'INCK. 
 Wiiv arc wc so impatient of delay, 
 
 Longing- for ever for the time to be ? 
 For thus we live to-morrow in to-day, 
 
 Yet sad to-morrow we may never sec. 
 We are too hasty ; are not reconciled 
 
 To let kind Nature do her work alone ; 
 We plant our seed, and, like a foolish child, 
 
 We dig it up to see if it has grown. 
 The good that is to be we covet now, 
 
 We cannot wait for the appointed hour ; 
 Before the fruit is ripe we shake tlie bough, 
 
 And seize tlie bud that folds away the flower. 
 When midnight darkness reigns, we do not see 
 
 That the sad night is mother of the morn : 
 We cannot think our own sliarp agony 
 
 May be the birth-i)ang of a joy unborn. 
 
 Into the dust we see our idols cast, 
 
 And cry that death has triumphed, life is void! 
 We do not trust the promise that the last 
 
 Of all our enemies shall be destroyed ! 
 With rest almost in sight the spirit faints. 
 
 And heart and flesh grow weary at the last ; 
 Our feet would walk the city of the saints 
 
 JCven before the silent gate is passed. 
 
94 FOLDED ILIADS. 
 
 Teach us to wait until Thou shalt appear — 
 To know that all thy Wviys and times are just ; 
 
 Thou scost that w^e do believe and fear; 
 Lord, make us also to believe and trust ! 
 
 riKF.r.K ( ARKV. 
 
 77/J' WILL— AND A/INK. 
 My wdll, dear Lord, from tliine doth run 
 
 Too oft a different way : 
 'T is hard to say " Thy will be done " 
 In every dLU-kened day ! 
 My heart grows chill 
 To sec thy will 
 Turn all life's gold to gray. 
 
 My will is set to gather flowers, 
 
 Thine blights them in my hand ; 
 Mine reaches for life's sunny hours, 
 Thine leads to shadow-land ; 
 And all my days 
 Go on in ways 
 I cannot understand. 
 
 Yet more and more this truth doth shine 
 
 From failure and from loss : 
 The will that runs transverse to thine 
 
 Doth thereby make its cross ; 
 
MY CA'OSS. 
 
 Thine upright will 
 Cuts straight and still 
 Through pride and dream and dross. 
 
 But if m parallel to thine 
 
 My will doth meekly run, 
 All things in heaven and earth are mine, 
 My will is crossed by none. 
 Tliou art in me, 
 And I in thee : 
 Thy will — and mine — are done! 
 
 MV CA'OSS. 
 I BENT beneath the burden, 
 
 That my weary shoulders bore, 
 And I said in my despairing, 
 
 " I can take the cross no more : 
 For the flesh is torn and bleeding. 
 
 The step is faint and slow; 
 I must rest me in my journey, 
 
 I can no farther go. 
 
 *' I see no other pilgrim 
 
 With such a cross as mine ; 
 
 For some are wreathed with blossoms. 
 And some with jewels shine; 
 
 95 
 
(jG FOLDl'.n HANDS. 
 
 And those who bear the burden 
 Seem smiling as they go, 
 
 No weight is in the jewels, 
 And in the llowers no thorn. 
 
 " Oh, give me, gentle Jesus, 
 
 Some shorter eross to bear, 
 Before I faint or sicken. 
 
 Or yield me to despair ; 
 Or if the loail I carry 
 
 Is for my shouklers made, 
 Let me not bear it lonely, 
 
 15ut give me human aid." 
 
 Thus, in my utter weakness, 
 
 And faint with toil, I cried ; 
 When He, the lUn-den-bearer, 
 
 Came quickly to my side. 
 '* No other cross would fit thee," 
 
 He said in gentle tone, 
 " This was in love provided. 
 
 In ages that are gone. 
 
 '* I bore it long before thee, 
 And bore it for thy sake ; 
 
 No other hand can aid thee, 
 Nor any burden take ; 
 
TRUS2\ 97 
 
 Thy heart with human sorrow, 
 
 Is only known b^^ mc, 
 Take up thy cross with patience, 
 
 And I tliy help will be." 
 
 JDI.IA TOI.MAN INCKKSOM,. 
 
 TRUST. 
 J CANNOT see with my small human si;j,hl, 
 Why God should lead this way or that for me : 
 I only know he saith, " Child, follow me ;" 
 15ut I can trust. 
 
 I know not why my i)ath should be at times 
 So strailly hedged, so stranL;ely barred before ; 
 I only know God could keep wide the door ; 
 Jkit I can trust. 
 
 I hud no answer, often, when beset 
 With questions fierce and subtile on my way, 
 And often have but strength to faintly pray ; 
 But I can trust. 
 
 I often wonder, as with trembling hand 
 I cast the seed along the furrowed ground. 
 If ripened fruit for God will there be found ; 
 Ikit I can trust, 
 
 FoMod IlaiKlR. 13 
 
«)S 
 
 i'Oi.ni:n n.ixns. 
 
 1 cannot kni)\v why smltlonly tlic stoini 
 Shoulil rage so liciccly roiuul mc in its vvnith ; 
 lUit this I know : Vxk^A watches all my path ; 
 And I can liiisl, 
 
 1 may not iliaw aside the mystic veil 
 That Iiides thc^ nnknown lutuie from my sii;hl ; 
 Nor know it for me waits the tknk or lii^ht ; 
 Hnt I can tinst. 
 
 1 Iku'c no [>ower ti) look across the tide, 
 To know while here the kind beyond llie river; 
 Ihit this I know : 1 shall be (lod's lor ever; 
 So 1 can trust. 
 
 l\ SCI { 00 1 . 
 I usi 1) to l;() to a bri!.;ht scliool, 
 
 W'here xcuith and tri>lic tauL;ht in turn. 
 Hut, idle scholar that I was. 
 
 1 liked to play, I would not learn ; 
 So the Great Teacher did ordain, 
 That 1 should tr\' the school of Tain. 
 
 One of the inlant class I am, 
 
 With little easy lessons set 
 In a g"reat book ; the hi!;iier class 
 
 Have harder t^nes than I, and \et 
 
]N SCJIOOL. 
 
 I find mine hard, and can't restrain 
 
 My tears wliilc studying" thus with I'ain. 
 
 'I'hcre are two teachers in tlie seliool, 
 One has a <;entle voice and low, 
 
 And smiles n])on lier scholars, as 
 She softly passes to and fro. 
 
 Her name is Love; 'tis very plain, 
 
 She slums the sharper teacher. Tain. 
 
 ( )r so I sonuMimcs tliink ; and ihen, 
 At othc-r times they meet and kiss, 
 
 And look so stran<;ely like, that I 
 Am ])nzz]e(l to tell how it is, 
 
 ( )r whence the chani^e that mak(;s it vain 
 
 'J'o [;uess if it be — Love, or ]*ain. 
 
 'J'hey tell nu; if 1 study well. 
 
 And learn my lessons, I shall be 
 
 Moved upward to that hi<;hcr school 
 Where dear Love teaches constantly ; 
 
 And I work haid, in hope to ^ain 
 
 Reward, and [;et away from Tain. 
 
 Yet l*ain is sometimes kind, and helj)s 
 
 Me on when T am very dull ; 
 I thank her oft(.Mi in my heait, 
 
 ])Ut Love is far more beautiful ; 
 
 99 
 
FOLDED HANDS. 
 
 Under her teiuler, gentle rei<;-ii, 
 I nuisl \c\\\\\ faster Ukui of Tain. 
 
 So I will do my very best, 
 
 Nor ebide the elock, nor call it slow; 
 That when the Teacher calls me up, 
 
 To see if I am lit to l;(\ 
 I may to Love's high class attain, 
 And l)id a sweet good-by to Pain. 
 
 SUSAN COULlDe.l!:. 
 
 /V.Vi' PACEM An LUCEM. 
 
 1 i>i) not ask, O Lord, that life may be 
 
 A jileasant nxid ; 
 J do not ask that thou shouldst take from me 
 Aught of its load. 
 
 i do not ask that (lowers should always spring 
 
 Peneath my feet ; 
 1 know too well the poison and the sling 
 
 Of things too sweet. 
 
 l*\>r (^ne thing onl)'. Lord, dear Lord, I pleail : 
 
 Lead me aright ; 
 If strength should fail and heart too deeply bleed, 
 
 1h' thou my light. 
 
rilE LOVE OF GOD. loi 
 
 I know that deadly evils compass me 
 
 On every side ; 
 Yet these I fear not, if but thee I see, 
 
 O Crucified ! 
 I need thy love : oh, let it bri^c^htly shine 
 
 Upon me still ! 
 I have enough, if I can call thee mine, 
 
 All wounds to heal. 
 
 Thine arm alone, O Lord, I lean upon, 
 
 A bruised reed ; 
 And till tlie conflict's o'er, the victory won. 
 
 None else I need. 
 
 While here I know but little of thy love, 
 
 Nor half adore ; 
 But hope to praise thee better, Lord, above. 
 
 For evermore. adelaioe a. i-koctkr. 
 — ♦ — 
 THE LOVE OF GOD. 
 Like a cradle, rocking, rocking. 
 
 Silent, peaceful, to and fro. 
 Like a mother's sweet looks dropping, 
 
 On the little face below — 
 Hangs the green earth, swinging, turning, 
 
 Jarless, noiseless, safe and slow ; 
 Falls the light of God's face bending 
 Down, and watching us below. 
 
I02 FOr.DKD HANDS. 
 
 And as feeble babes that sufier, 
 
 7\)ss and ery, and will not rest, 
 Are the ones the tender mother 
 
 llolils llic closest, loves the best, 
 So, when we are weak and wretched, 
 
 1^^ our sins weii;hed down, distressed 
 Then il is thiit God's L;reat mercy 
 
 llolils us cUxscst, loves us best. 
 
 O i;reat heart of Gotl ! whose loving- 
 C^innol hindcrcil be nor cri>sscd, 
 
 Will not weary, will not even 
 In our death itself be lost — 
 
 Love divine ! of such great loving- 
 Only mothers know the cost. 
 
 Cost of U)ve, which, all love passing, 
 
 Gave a Son to save the lost, saxk hoi.m. 
 
 IX 1111'. 1-V(7. 
 
 I'lir: sj^irrows are chirjiing. chiiping, 
 'I'hough the air with mist is full ; 
 
 They seem [o say. "What matter 
 If the day is cold and dull ? 
 
 Ov fair ov foul the weather, 
 'I"he 1 A)V(\ is mcrciiul. 
 
IN n/S y/NEYAKD. 
 
 " lie; ^ivcs us each our jjoiliou 
 
 In suiisliinc oi" in laiii ; 
 Wc cat our cauinhs and |)raisc Iiiin 
 
 I*\)i" every liny L;rain ; 
 lie thinks of Ihc; lillle sparrows, 
 
 And liow e:in we eoni|)lain ?" 
 
 Tlic chir]) of the s[)airow chidc^s nic ; 
 
 I'aint not, () soul of mine, 
 If the Lord for sueh is cax'wv^, 
 
 lie '11 care for tliee and liiine. 
 Weak is the faitii that falters 
 
 Wiien the sun forj^ets to sliiiic. 
 
 " Vox arc; not ye mucli Ix-ttei" 
 
 Than they?" llie deai" Lord says; 
 
 "Why, tlien, arc; yc; so faithle;^s ? 
 Trust mc in (ku-kest ckays." 
 
 Chirp on, ye little s[)arrows, 
 I, too, will trust ;ind ])i;use. 
 
 MKS. IM'.I.I'.N v.. IIUOVVN. 
 
 i03 
 
 IN JUS VlNl'lVANI). 
 TiiF-Ri-: is never a way so nariow or sliort, 
 
 ]kit the Master's woik is there ; 
 There is somethin;^ to do for liis dear sake, 
 
 Or soniethinp^ to calndy hear. 
 
104 FOLDED HANDS. 
 
 There are trials to meet with Christian faith 
 And duties with Christian grace ; 
 
 And there 's Christian sweetness to every one, 
 To be given in every place. 
 
 Their working days are never so hard, 
 
 Who find in Christ a stay ; 
 And days of darkness are days of light, 
 
 When Jesus leads the way. 
 
 And the waiting days of those that hope. 
 
 Are days of quietness, 
 And the praying days of those that trust. 
 
 Are days of perfect peace. 
 
 There are flowers down in the valley low, 
 
 And over the mountain side. 
 Which never were praised by a human voice. 
 
 Nor by human eyes descried. 
 
 Yet as sweet as the breath of the royal rose 
 
 Is the perfume they exhale ; 
 And why they bloom, and where they bloom 
 
 The dear Lord knoweth well. a. l. wyman. 
 
 Up in the silent solitudes of prayer. 
 There where my soul communion holds with God, 
 Beyond the clouds of earthly grief and care. 
 The secret springs of life have ever flowed. 
 
CHRIST TJfK ONLY COMFORTER. 105 
 
 Wc reach but seldom to those upper springs, 
 l^^or earth-hewn barriers bar the mountain way ; 
 And to its kindred dust the spirit cHngs, 
 Loving the twihght rather than tlie day, 
 Till the fierce storm above our pathway hover. 
 Till some sweet dream of earthly bliss is over, 
 Then doth the heart cry out for better things; 
 The Saviour's voice finds out tlie sorrowing soul: 
 "Come unto me, and I will make thee whole." 
 
 CHRIST THE ONLY COMFORTER. 
 My heart is very tired ; my weary hands 
 
 Are faint with gathering up the withered flowers 
 That die within their clasp. The air that fans 
 
 My two pale cheeks seems blown from lonely bowers 
 Where birds forget to sing. My idols break 
 
 Before my face, and show the clay for gold. 
 The storms arc pitiless. Thou, Saviour, wake, 
 
 And still this tempest. Thou alone dost hold 
 The power to comfort. Let me see thy face, 
 
 And firmly clasp thy hand ; then will I be 
 Strong in thy strength. My thirsty soul would taste, 
 
 The living waters. Make me like to thee, 
 Dear gentle Jesus, full of truth and grace. 
 
 In storm and calm thy glory let me see. 
 
 JULIA TOLMAN INGKKSOLL. 
 KoMc.l II.iii.ln. 14 
 
io6 FOLDED HANDS. 
 
 TJIK BROOK. 
 Up in the wild, where no one comes to look, 
 There lives and sings a lonely little brook ; 
 Liveth and singeth in the dreary pines, 
 Yet crcepeth on to where the daylight shines. 
 
 Pnre from their heaven in monntain chalice canght, 
 It drinks the rain as drinks the soul her thought; 
 And down dim lio]h)\vs, where it winds along, 
 Bears its life-burden of unlistened song. 
 
 I catch the murmur of its undertone, 
 That singcth ceaselessly, alone, alone ! 
 And hear, afar, the rivers gloriously 
 Shout on their jxiths toward the shining sea ! 
 
 The voiceful river chanting to the sun, 
 And wearing names of honor every one ; 
 C^utslretching wide, and joining hand in hand, 
 To iH)ur great gifts along the asking land. 
 
 Ah, lonely brook ! creep onward through the pines, 
 Rest thro' the gloom to where the daylight shines ; 
 Sing on among the stones, and secretly 
 Feel how the floods are all akin to thee. 
 
 Drink the sweet rain the gentle heaven sendeth ; 
 Hold thine own path, whithersoe'er it tendeth ; 
 For somewhere, underneath the eternal sky, 
 Thou, too, shalt find the rivers by-and-by ! 
 
HIDDEN ONES. 107 
 
 n/J)DKN ONES. 
 
 A FEEBLE taper witli enough of light 
 
 To show the dark of niglit; 
 A pale, faint gleam vvliere stars in clouds liave set, 
 
 That beams and brightens yet ; 
 h\n' One, whose brightness does not set or rise, 
 
 The living oil supplies. 
 
 A still small voice that scarce the silence breaks, 
 
 Yet echo sweet that wakes ; 
 A tone of gladness when gay voices weep, 
 
 To comfort grief to sleep; 
 ]*^or One hath stirred, else haply all unheard. 
 
 The low, deep, answering word. 
 
 A strain of music where a single string 
 
 lias leave to wail or sing; 
 And loudest sings in winter's fiercest blast, 
 
 And sweeter at the last; 
 1^'or One has breathed, with gentle touch and strong, 
 
 The trembling chord along. 
 
 A flower that sheds its sweets in night and dew, 
 
 And shuns the noontide view; 
 A germ of Eden dropped in mortal soil. 
 
 Safe kept from time's despoil; 
 
loS 
 
 roi.ni:i) iiANns. 
 
 l'\)r One with nurlmx* dI' iniinoilal love, 
 1 )oth shield il lioni above. 
 
 A l)o:iuly — iioL with shape of oarllily moiilil, 
 
 Or proud ideal cold ; 
 A soul with \vin!,',s uphtled for (he skies, 
 
 W'aitiuL; its hour to rise ; 
 I-'or (hie of lieauty pure of eaithly Iraee 
 
 Math touehed the soul witli i;raee. 
 
 A heart that waits for rest, yet rests the while 
 
 On loxiuL; heart and smile: 
 This wintiM' bloom, this soni; in pain, this lamp 
 
 Thai ^lows through eold and dauip, 
 \'ea, all (lod's hidden ones in corners dim 
 
 Are hidden sale with 1 Mm ! '••• i- i'- 
 
 Hi', the day weary, or be the day long-, 
 At length it ringeth to oven song. 
 
 .■/ SOXC, OF so/.Acr. 
 Tiu)ii sweet hand oi C\0(\, that so wour.dest my 
 
 heart. 
 Thou makest me smile, while thou makest me 
 
 smart ; 
 It seems as il (lod were at ball-phu' — and 1, 
 The harder lie strikes me, the higher I lly. 
 
A SON(; ()/' SO/AC/':. m,^ 
 
 \ own il ; lie l)iiii.s('S, lie pierce;; me sore; 
 l)iil llu; iKinimcr ;iii(l ;invil .idlicl iiu; no nioK!. 
 SIi.'ill I lell yon Hk- rc;ison ? Il is tli.il, I see, 
 'I'lic S(iiI|)lor will c.iive onl. ;ui .'Uilm'I loi' inc. 
 
 I shrink from no snllcrin;/, how |);iin(iil soc'(.;r, 
 When once I (.-AW h-el lh;il. my (iod's hand is there ; 
 I'"or soil on the .n.ivil llx- iron sh.'ill j'.low, 
 When Ihe smilh with his hiiniiner deals blow upon 
 l)]ow. 
 
 Tiod ])icsses iik^ hard, hnl 1 1(! ^:;ives paticnuM* loo! 
 And I say lo myself, " "[' i.s no moic Ihan mydne:" 
 And no tone fiom Lhe organ can swcdl on Ihe 
 
 l)reeze, 
 Till ihe oij^anisl's fm^'H-rs i)ress down on the k(;ys. 
 
 So come then, and weleome, IIk; 1)1ow and the; 
 
 pain ; 
 Wilhonl them no mortal can heaven attain ; 
 I''oi- what can llu^ sheaves on IIk; hai"(; floor avail, 
 'I'ill the thresher shall heal out the (hall with his 
 
 (lad? 
 
 "I' is only a moment (iod chastens with |)ain; 
 Joy follows oin' soriow lik(^ sunshin(^ oi- lain ; 
 Then hear thoii what (iod on thy spirit shall lay, 
 lie dnnd), hut when templt:d to mnrnnn-, then |>ray. 
 
 M'.OM 'III I', (a.KMAN. 
 
no FOLDED HANDS. 
 
 THE KING IJV JUS BEAUTY. 
 On ! to be over yonder, 
 In that land of wonder, 
 Where the angel voices mingle, and the angel harp- 
 ers ring ; 
 
 "fo be free from pain and sorrow, 
 And the anxious, dread to-morrow, 
 To rest in light and sunshine, in the presence of 
 the King. 
 
 (^h ! to be over yonder, 
 
 My yearning heart grows fonder, 
 
 Of looking to the East, to see the day-slar bring 
 Some tidings of the waking, 
 The cloudless, pure day-breaking. 
 
 My heart is yearning — yearning for the coming of 
 the King. 
 
 Oh ! to be over yonder ! 
 Alas ! I sigh and wonder, 
 Why clings my poor weak heart to any earthly 
 thing ? 
 
 Each tie of earth may sever. 
 And pass away for ever; 
 lUit there's no more separation in the presence of 
 the KinLT. 
 
THE KING IN HIS BEAUTY 
 
 Oh ! to bo over yonder, 
 The longini^ grovveth stronger, 
 When I see the wild doves cleave the air with rapid 
 
 I long for their fleet pinions. 
 To reach my Lord's dominions, 
 And rest my weary spirit in the presence of the 
 King, 
 
 Oh ! to be over yonder. 
 In that land of wonder, 
 Where life and light and sunshine rest fair on every- 
 thing ; 
 
 Where the day-beam is unshaded, 
 As pure as He who made it — 
 This land of cloudless sunshine where Jesus is the 
 King. 
 
 Oh ! when shall I be dwelling, 
 Where the angel voices, swelling 
 In triumphant hallelujahs, make the vaulted heav- 
 ens ring. 
 
 Where the pearly gates are gleaming, 
 And the morning star is beaming. 
 Oh ! when shall I be over yonder in the presence 
 of the King ? 
 
112 FOLDED HANDS. 
 
 Oh ! when shall I be yonder ? 
 
 The longing groweth stronger, 
 To join in all the praises the redeemed ones do 
 sing, 
 
 Within those heavenly places, 
 
 Where the angels veil their faces, 
 In awe and adoration in the presence of the King. 
 
 Oh ! soon, soon I '11 be yonder, 
 All lonely as I wander. 
 Yearning for the welcome summer — longing for the 
 bird's fleet wing; 
 
 The midnight may be dreary. 
 And the heart be worn and weary, 
 But there 's no more shadow yonder in the presence 
 of the King. Florence c. Armstrong. 
 
 THE WILL OF GOD. 
 I WORSHIP thee, sweet will of God ! 
 
 And all thy ways adore ; 
 And every day I live I seem 
 
 To love thee more and more. 
 
 I love to kiss each print where thou 
 Hast set thine unseen feet ; 
 
 I cannot fear thee, blessed Will ! 
 Thine empire is so sweet. 
 
WAITING. 
 
 When obstacles and trials seem 
 
 Like prison-walls to be, 
 I do the little I can do, 
 
 And leave the rest to thee 1 
 
 I have no cares, O blessed Will ! 
 
 For all my cares are thine; 
 I live in triumph. Lord, for thou 
 
 Hast made thy triumjohs mine. 
 
 Man's weakness, waiting upon God, 
 
 Its end can never miss, 
 For men on earth no work can do 
 
 More angel-like than this. 
 
 Ill that he blesses is our good, 
 
 And unblessed good is ill ; 
 And all is right that seems most wron« 
 
 If it be His sweet will. fmje 
 
 WAITING. 
 
 " For they shall not be ashamed that wait for mc." 
 
 Yes, I am waiting, Lord, and it is sweet 
 To rest the while close at thy sacred feet ; 
 Here with thy wounded hand upon my head, 
 My weary soui is blest and comforted. 
 15 
 
 113 
 
1 1 4 FOLDED JIA NDS. 
 
 'Tis joy to tarry at thy bleeding sule, 
 Whence flows the healing, purifying tide, 
 My only hope, my perfect righteousness ; 
 Yes, I will wait in this dear hiding-place. 
 
 l'\)r prone am I, my I.ord, from thee to stray, 
 And lose thy presence in earth's busy way ; 
 Yea, sometimes out on errands thine alone, 
 Self rises, and I count them all my own. 
 
 So eager am I to devise and do. 
 And in my frantic zeal the way pursue, 
 That I forget I should but follow thee ; 
 And hurry, till thy face I cannot see. 
 
 And thou in love dost chock my foolish haste. 
 Take me apart into the desert waste. 
 And bid me pause till thou shall point the way. 
 And go before me lest again I stray. 
 
 So here beneath the shadow of thy wing 
 I stay my steps, and as I wait I sing ; 
 While peace divine through all my soul distils. 
 And love its blessed, perfect work fulfds. 
 
 In this dear refuge, quieted and still, 
 I fold my hands and bide thy holy will ; 
 '' Speak, for thy servant heareth," I will say, 
 Ready when thou shalt send me to obey. 
 
THE MASTER-TEACHER. 115 
 
 Shall disappointment or dismay betide 
 
 The soul that meekly waits her Lord beside ? 
 
 Ah, no, my expectation is from him, 
 
 And shall not fail though heaven itself grow dim. 
 
 God is the Lord, who gives the soul's desire, 
 I bind the sacrifice and wait the fire; 
 They shall not be ashamed who watch and wake, 
 The morn of joy and glory soon shall break. 
 
 MRS. HELEN E. BROWN. 
 
 THE MASTER-TEACHER. 
 
 I SAT in the school of sorrow ; 
 
 The Master was teaching there ; 
 But my eyes were dim with weeping, 
 
 And my heart oppressed with care. 
 
 Instead of looking upward, 
 And seeing his face divine, 
 
 So full of tender compassion 
 For weary hearts like mine ; 
 
 I only thought of the burden. 
 The cross that before me lay. 
 
 The clouds that hung thick above me, 
 Darkening the light of day. 
 
FOLDED HANDS. 
 
 So I could not learn my lesson, 
 And say, " Thy will be done," 
 
 And the Master came not near me, 
 As the leaden hours went on. 
 
 At last in despair I lifted 
 
 My streaming eyes above, 
 And I saw the Master watching, 
 
 With a look of pitying love. 
 
 To the cross before me he pointed, 
 And I thought I heard him say, 
 
 " My child ! thou must take thy burden, 
 And learn thy task to-day. 
 
 " Not now may I tell the reason ; 
 
 'T is enough for thee to know 
 71iat I, the INlaster, am teaching, 
 
 And appoint thee all thy woe." 
 
 Then kneeling, the cross I lifted. 
 For one glimpse of that face divine 
 
 Had given me strength to bear it. 
 And say, " Thy will, not mine !" 
 
 And so I learned my lesson, 
 And through the weary years 
 
 His helping hand sustained me. 
 And wiped away my tears. 
 
A HYMN OF L ONGING. 1 1 7 
 
 And ever the glorious sunlight 
 
 From the heavenly home streamed down, 
 Where the school-tasks are all ended, 
 
 And the cross is exchanged for the crown. 
 
 A HYMN OF LONGING. 
 I CANNOT think but God must know 
 About the thing I long for so ; 
 I know he is so good and kind, 
 I cannot think but he will fnul 
 Some way to help — some way to show 
 Me to the thing I long for so. 
 I stretch my hand : it lies so near, 
 It looks so sweet, it looks so dear ; 
 " Dear Lord," I pray, " oh, let me know 
 If it is wrong to want it so ?" 
 He only smiles, he does not speak, 
 My heart grows weaker and more weak. 
 With looking at the thing so dear. 
 Which lies so far, and yet so near. 
 Now, Lord, I leave at thy loved feet 
 This thing which looks so near, so sweet ; 
 I will not seek— I will not long— 
 I almost fear I have been wrong ; 
 
JV/./u-:/) //.ixns. 
 
 I'll go ami work the iKiidcr, I.orJ, 
 And wait till by some loud, clear woii 
 Thou callost mo to thy loved feet 
 To lalce this thini;- so dear, so sweet. 
 
 SAXK llOl.M. 
 
 W^rni i)eaeeful ndiid tliy race of duty run ; 
 
 (lod nothinj;" does, or sutlers to be dcine, 
 
 Hut wliat tluni wouldst thyself, if tliou eouldst see 
 
 ThrouL^h all events ol time as well as lie. 
 
 "/ //'//./. s/:xn rni-: coMFOR'ii-.Rr 
 
 Go not far from nie. () my StrenL;th, 
 
 Whom all m\' limes ()be\', 
 Take from me anylhini;- thou will, 
 
 Hut i;() not thou awaN' ; 
 And let the storm that docs thy w(Mk 
 
 Deal with nie as it may. 
 
 0\\ thy compassion I repose, 
 
 \\\ weakness and distress; 
 1 will not ask tm" L;ieater ease, 
 
 Lest I should love thee less. 
 Oh, *t is a blessed ihiui;- h)r me, 
 
 To need thy tenderness. 
 
While iiKiny symi)iitliizin<; hciirt.s 
 
 Vox: my deliverance care, 
 Tiiou ill thy wiser, stronger love. 
 
 Art teachin^^ nie t(j bear, 
 ]^y the sweet voice of thankful son_!:^, 
 
 And calm, confiding prayer. 
 
 Thy love hath many a lighted ])alh, 
 
 No outward eye can trace ; 
 And my licjiit S(;c,'S ihce in the (Kk-J), 
 
 With darkness on its face; 
 And communes with thee, 'mid the storm, 
 
 As in a secret ])lace. 
 
 C) Comforter of God's redeemed, 
 
 Wliom the world cjinnot see, 
 What h:in(ls slioiild pluck me from \\\v. flood 
 
 That casts my soul on tiiee ? 
 Wlio would not suffer pain like mine, 
 
 'I'o be consrjK^d like me? 
 
 When r am feeble as a child, 
 
 And flesh and heart give way, 
 Tlien on thy eveilasting strength 
 
 With passive trust 1 stay; 
 And the rough wind becomes a song, 
 
 The daikiu;ss shin(js like day. 
 
FOLDED HANDS. 
 
 Oh, blessed are the eyes that see, 
 Through silent anguish slow, 
 
 The love that in their hours of sleep 
 Unthankecl may come and go ! 
 
 And blessed are the ears that hear. 
 Though kept awake by woe. 
 
 Happy are they that learn in thee, 
 Though patient suffering teach, 
 
 The secret of enduring strength. 
 And praise too deep for speech. 
 
 Peace — that no pressure from without, 
 No strife within can reach. 
 
 There is no death for me to fear. 
 For Christ, my Lord, hath died; 
 
 There is no curse in this my pain, 
 For he was crucified. 
 
 And it \s> fcllozvsJiip with him, 
 That keeps me near his side. 
 
 My heart is fixed, O God, my strength, 
 My heart is strong to bear ; 
 
 I will be joyful in thy love, 
 And peaceful in thy care : 
 
 Deal with me for my Saviour's sake, 
 According to his prayer. 
 
"/ WILL SEND THE COMFORTERP 12 
 
 No suffering while it lasts is joy, 
 
 How blest soe'er it be; 
 Yet may the chastened child be glad 
 
 His Father's face to see : 
 And oh, it is not hard to bear. 
 
 What must be born in thee ! 
 
 It is not hard to bear by faith, 
 
 In thine own bosom laid. 
 The trial of a soul redeemed, 
 
 For thy rejoicing made. 
 Well may the heart in patience rest, 
 
 That none can make afraid. 
 
 Safe in thy sanctifying grace. 
 
 Almighty to restore. 
 Borne onward — sin and death behind, 
 
 And love and life before, 
 Oh, let my soul abound in hope. 
 
 And praise thee more and more ! 
 
 Deep unto deep may call, but I 
 
 With peaceful heart will say. 
 Thy loving-kindness hath a charge. 
 
 No waves can take away ; 
 
 And let the storm that speeds me home 
 
 Deal with me as it may. 
 16 
 
2 FOLDED HANDS. 
 
 DAY. 
 " Not clear, nor dark," not rain, not shine — 
 Lord, help a trembling child of thine. 
 
 To sit, and sing, and wait ! 
 Snrely the days of light are thine ! 
 Thou hast not spent thy store divine, 
 
 Nor closed thy golden gate. 
 
 lUit I woukl do, and I would go, 
 
 Would have, would see, would seek, would know, 
 
 And thou wouldst have me wait ! 
 Wouldst have me rest, and trust, and smile, 
 And work at little things awhile. 
 
 Till thou shalt give me great. 
 
 Content to be uncertain still, 
 To serve by waiting for thy will, 
 
 Through chilly, gloomy days ; 
 To pray for doubting ones and tried, 
 Whose lives have many a darker side. 
 
 To pray for grace to praise. 
 
 *' Known to the Lord " — this dreary time 
 Shall do its part, and fruit sublime 
 
 So precious, rare, and sweet, 
 Shall cluster on thy trees of grace. 
 And make their homes a sacred place, 
 
 Vox thee and angels meet. 
 
''HIMSELF IIA'J U nONK ITr 123 
 
 '' niMSI'll.!' J/. 177/ DOX/C ITP 
 
 Isaiah 33 : 1 5. 
 
 " IIiMSiaj' IkiUi done it" all. Oh, how those words 
 
 .Should luisli to silence every imirniuriuL;' thought. 
 
 " Himself hath done it" — he who loves me best — 
 
 He who my soul with his own blood hath bou<;"]it, 
 
 " Himself hath done it." Can it then l)c aught 
 Than full of wisdom, full of tenderest love ? 
 
 Not one unneeded sorrow will he send, 
 
 To teach this wandering' heart no moie to rove. 
 
 "Himself hath ch)ne it." Yes, although severe 
 May seem the sli-oke, and bitter be the cup, 
 
 'T is his own hand that holds it, and I know 
 He'll give mc grace to drink it meekly up. 
 
 " Himself hath done it." Oh, no arm but his 
 Could e'er sustain, beneath earth's dreary lot ; 
 
 J hit while I know he doeth all things well, 
 My heart his loving-kindness c[uestions not. 
 
 "Himself hath done it." He who searched me 
 through, 
 
 Sees how I cleave to earth's ensnaring ties ; 
 And, now he breaks each reed on which my soul 
 
 Too much for happiness and joy iclies. 
 
124 FOLDED HANDS. 
 
 " Himself hath done it." He would have me see 
 What broken cisterns human friends must prove ; 
 
 That I may turn and quench my burning thirst 
 At his own fount of ever-living love. 
 
 " Himself hath done it." Then I fain would say, 
 " Thy will in all things evermore be done ;" 
 
 E'en though that will remove whom best I love, 
 While Jesus lives, I cannot be alone. 
 
 " Himself hath done it," precious, precious words ; 
 
 " Himself," my Father, Saviour, Brother, Friend; 
 Whose faithfulness no variation knows ; 
 
 Who, having loved me, loves me to the end. 
 
 And when, in his eternal presence blest, 
 I at his feet my crown immortal cast, 
 
 I '11 gladly own, with all his ransomed saints, 
 
 " Himself hath done it" — ajll — from first to last. 
 
 THE RESTING-PLACE. 
 
 A VOICE has called me to the wilderness, 
 
 For quiet rest. 
 Far from the place which rapid footsteps press 
 
 In eager quest ; 
 
THE RESTING-PLACE. 125 
 
 And here I lie in wait from morn to night 
 
 Till there shall be 
 Some marching order sent in words of light 
 
 To set me free. 
 
 But while I wait within this Achor-vale 
 
 I look away 
 To where the sunny joys of life prevail, 
 
 And hear One say, 
 "After the quiet and the rest of life 
 
 Thou shalt be strong ; 
 And when has died away the noise of strife 
 
 Thou shalt have song." 
 
 And he shall teach me in these quiet days 
 
 Of peace and rest, 
 The old, forgotten songs of joyous praise 
 
 Which I loved best ; 
 And so that he be with me while I stay, 
 
 And make me glad. 
 There is no hour of all the passing day 
 
 That can be sad. 
 
 And so I thank the Father-voice that bade 
 
 Me rest awhile, 
 Where visions of the future make me glad ; 
 
 And in his smile 
 
126 FOLDED HANDS. 
 
 The quiet clays shall pass, till once again 
 
 It is his will 
 That I should leave the vale of night and pain, 
 
 And serve him still. 
 
 HELPLESS. 
 
 Lord, I had planned to do thee service true, 
 To be more humbly watchful unto prayer, 
 
 More faithful in obedience to thy word. 
 More bent to put away all earthly care. 
 
 I thought of sad hearts comforted and healed, 
 Of wanderers turned into the pleasant way, 
 
 Of little ones preserved from sinful snare, 
 
 Of dark homes brightened with a heavenly ray. 
 
 Of time all consecrated to thy will, 
 
 Of strength spent gladly for thee day by day. 
 When suddenly the heavenly mandate came 
 
 That I should give it all at once away. 
 
 Thy blessed hand came forth and laid me down, 
 Turned every beating pulse to throbs of pain, 
 
 Hushed all my prayers into one feeble cry, 
 Then bade me to believe that loss was jrain. 
 
THE LOVE OF JESUS. 127 
 
 And was it loss to have indulged such hopes ? 
 
 Nay, they were gifts from out the inner shrine, 
 Garlands that I might hang about thy cross. 
 
 Gems to surrender at the call divine. 
 
 As chiselled image unresisting lies 
 
 In niche by its own sculptor's hand designed, 
 
 So to my unemployed and silent life 
 Let me in quiet meekness be resigned. 
 
 If wor.ks of faith and labors sweet of love 
 May not be mine, yet patient hope can be 
 
 Within my heart, like a bright censer's fire, 
 With incense of thanksgiving mounting free. 
 
 Thou art our Pattern to the end of time, 
 O Crucified ! and perfect is thy will ; 
 
 The workers follow thee in doing good, 
 The helpless think of Calvary and are still. 
 
 THE LOVE OF JESUS. 
 
 Sweetly sing the love of Jesus, 
 Love for you and love for me; 
 
 Heaven's light is not more cheering, 
 Heaven's dews are not more free. 
 
I'OLDED HANDS. 
 
 As a child in pain or terror 
 
 Hides him in his mother's breast, 
 As a sailor seeks the haven, 
 
 We would come to him for rest. 
 
 Softly sing" the kn-e of Jesus, 
 
 For our hearts are full of toai's, 
 As we think how, walkiui;- humbly 
 
 This low earth for weary years, 
 Without riches, without dwelling, 
 
 Wounded sc^re by foe or friend, 
 In the garden and in dying 
 
 Jesus loved us to the end. 
 
 Gladly sing the love of Jesus : 
 
 Let us lean upon his arm ; 
 If he love us, what can grieve us ? 
 
 If he keep us, what can harm ? 
 Still he lays his hand in blessing 
 
 On each upturned, seeking face. 
 And in heaven his children's angels 
 
 Near the throne have always place. 
 
 l^ver sing the love of Jesus, 
 Let the day be dark or clear, 
 
 Every pain and every sorrow 
 
 Bring his own to him more dear ; 
 
TRUST. 129 
 
 Dcrilir.s cold wave need not nffrigbt us 
 When wc know tlint Jesus died, 
 
 Wlieii we see the face of Jesus 
 Sniiliii';" from the Other Side. 
 
 TRUST. 
 Till-: cliild leans on its i)rirent's bicast, 
 Leaves there ils e.-ires, n.nd is at rest. 
 'Pile bird sits swin-inj^ l)y its nest, 
 
 And tells nloud 
 His trust in Tjod, ;nid so is blest 
 
 'Neath every eloud. 
 
 Jle has no store, he sows no seed, 
 Yet sings aloud, and doth not heed ; 
 l',y flowin*^^ streams or <;rassy me;id 
 
 lie sin^s, to sbjime 
 Men who forget, in hour of need, 
 
 A 1^'atber's name. 
 
 'I'he heart that trusts for ever sings, 
 And feels as light as it had wings ; 
 A well of peace within it s[)rings : 
 
 Come good or ill, 
 VVhate'er to-day, to morrow brings, 
 
 It is I lis will. 
 
 r,,n.,.i riiit.dH. J 7 
 
I30 FOLDED HANDS. 
 
 FOR JESL/S' SAKFl. 
 
 I WALKED in pleasant places, 
 'Mid pastures green and fair ; 
 The Lord marked out a hard rough way ; 
 He bade me enter there. 
 
 " Father," I answering said, 
 
 " That way I cannot tread : 
 My feet are all unused to thorny roads ; 
 
 Grant me a smoother one to take !" 
 
 " Nay, t/iis for Jesus' sake," 
 
 The ]\Iaster made answer. 
 
 I ate at earthly tables, 
 
 Life's rich wine daily quaffed, 
 Pressed to my lips by God's own hand 
 A cup of bitter draught. 
 " O Lord, forbear !" I cried, 
 ** Let me not thus be tried !" 
 
 " Fear not for Me this cup to take ; 
 
 Drink, then, for Jesus' sake," 
 
 The Master made answer. 
 
 I 'm now a pilgrim weary, 
 And long for rest on high ; 
 Towards sunset looking wistfully, 
 My soul's sweet " by-and-by." 
 
so A' ROW. 131 
 
 The rough way leadeth up ; 
 Sweet is the bitter cup ; 
 The latest prayer my lips shall make, 
 Be this : " For Jesus' sake ;" 
 The Master will answer. 
 
 SORROW. 
 
 Upon my lips she laid her touch divine, 
 
 And merry speech and careless laughter died ; 
 She fixed her melancholy eyes on mine, 
 And would not be denied. 
 
 I saw the west wind loose his cloudlets white, 
 In flocks careering through the April sky ; 
 I could not sing, though joy was at its height. 
 For she stood silent by. 
 
 I watched the lovely evening fade away, 
 
 A mist was lightly drawn across the stars ; 
 She broke my quiet dream. I heard her say, 
 " Behold your prison bars ! 
 
 " Earth's gladness shall not satisfy your soul, 
 
 This beauty of the world in which you live ; 
 The crowning grace that- sanctifies the whole, 
 That I alone can give !" 
 
1^2 FOLDED HANDS. 
 
 I heard, and shrunk away from her afraid, 
 
 But still she held mc, and would still abide ; 
 Youth's bounding pulses slackened and obeyed 
 With slowly-ebbing tide. 
 
 " Look thou beyond the evening sky," she said, 
 " Beyond the changing splendors of the day ; 
 Accept the pain, the weariness, the dread, 
 Accept and bid me stay !" 
 
 I turned and clasped her close with sudden strength, 
 
 And sweetly, slowly I became aware 
 Within my arms God's angel stood at length. 
 White-robed and calm and fair. 
 
 And now I look be}'ond the evening star, 
 
 Beyond the changing splendors of the day, 
 Knowing the pains lie sends more precious far. 
 More beautiful than ihey. 
 
 " Blest is the man Thou chastenest. Lord !" 
 
 Thus speaks the oracle divine. 
 Now, on my heart let grace be poured, 
 
 And may that blessedness be mine ! 
 
 C. ELLIOTT. 
 
FATHER, LEAD ON. i33 
 
 FATHER, LEAD ON. 
 
 My Father, God, lead on ! 
 Calmly I follow where thy ^aiiding hand 
 ]Jiirects my steps. I would not trembling stand, 
 Though all before the way 
 Is dark as night ; I stay 
 My soul on thee, and say, 
 Father, I trust thy love ; lead on. 
 
 Just as thou wilt ; lead on ! 
 For I am as a child, and know not how 
 To tread the starless path whose windings now 
 Lie hid from mortal ken. 
 Although I know not when 
 Sweet day will dawn again. 
 Father, I wait thy will ; lead on. 
 
 I ask not why ; lead on ! 
 Mislead thou canst not. Though through da>s of 
 
 grief 
 And nights of anguish, pangs without relief, 
 Or fears that would o'erthrow 
 My faith, thou bidst me go. 
 Thy changeless love, I know, 
 Father, my soul will keep : lead on. 
 
134 FOLDED HANDS. 
 
 With thcc is light ; lead on ! 
 When clank and chill at eve the night-mists fall, 
 O'erhanging all things like a dismal pall, 
 
 The gloom with dawn hath fled, 
 So, though 'mid shades I tread, 
 The day-spring o'er my head, 
 Father, from thee shall break ; lead on. 
 
 Thy way is peace ; lead on ! 
 Made heir of all things, I were yet unblest 
 Didst thou not dwell with me and make me rest 
 ])eneath the brooding wing 
 That thou didst o'er me fling, 
 . Till thou thyself shalt bring, 
 Father, my spirit lK)me : lead on. 
 
 Thou givest strength ; lead on ! 
 I cannot sink while thy right hand upholds, 
 Nor comfort lack while thy kind arm enfolds. 
 Through all my soul I feel 
 A healing influence steal 
 While at thy feet I kneel. 
 Father, in lowly trust : lead on. 
 
 'T will soon be o'er ; lead on ! 
 Left all behind, earth's heartaches then shall seem 
 Even as memories of a vanished dream ; 
 
UNSEEN. 
 
 And wlicn of griefs and tears 
 The golden fruit appears 
 Amid the eternal years, 
 I^'ather, all tlianks be thine : lead on. 
 
 KAY I'M, M]:k, J), 
 
 35 
 
 UNSEEN. 
 At the spring of an arcli in the great north tower, 
 
 High up on the wall is an angel's head, 
 And beneath it is earven a lily flower, 
 
 With delicate wings at the side outspread. 
 
 They say that the sculptor wrought from the face 
 Of his youth's lost love, of his promised bride; 
 
 And when he had added the last sad grace 
 
 To the features, he dropped his chisel and died. 
 
 The worshii)pers throng to the shrine below, 
 
 And the sight-seers come with their curious eyes, 
 
 But deep in the shadow, where none may know 
 Its beauty, the gem of its carving lies. 
 
 Yet at early morn on a midsummer's day. 
 When the sun is far to the north, for a space 
 
 Of minutes a few there falls a ray 
 
 Through an amber pane on the angel's face. 
 
i;/) FOr.DED T1AXDS 
 
 ll was wrought for tlic oyo of (iod. ami il scorns 
 Thai he blesses the work i)l the deatl nian's haiul 
 
 With a ray of the L;()lclcn liL;hl that slreains 
 
 0\\ liie h>st that are fouiul in the deathless land. 
 
 l.lll?S LF.SSOX. 
 Li'.AKN ti^ wait — life's hardest lesson, 
 
 Conned, percdKnuw thronL;h hliiulinL;" tears, 
 While the heart-throbs sadly eeho 
 
 To the treail of jxxssing years. 
 
 Learn to wait hoi^e's slow fruition ; 
 
 l^'aint not, though the way seems long; 
 There is joy in each cH)ndition — 
 
 Hearts through sullering may grow strong. 
 
 Constant sunshine, howe'er weleome, 
 
 Ne'er will ripen frnit or llower: 
 Giant oaks owe half their greatness 
 
 To the scathing temjK\sl's power. 
 
 I'hus a soul, untouched b)' sorrow, 
 
 Aims not at a higher state ; 
 Joy seeks but a brighter morrow, 
 
 Onh' tried hearts learn to wait. 
 
TITK ANCET. OF SdliMISSION. 137 
 
 Human strcnglli luid Iminan greatness 
 Spring not from life's sunny side; 
 
 Heroes must Ije more than driftwood, 
 J''loating on a vvaveless tide. 
 
 TlfK ANGICL OF SUIiMISSION. 
 God's right-hand angel, bright and strong, 
 
 Christ's strengthener in tlie agony, 
 Teach us the meaning of ihat psalm, 
 
 Of fulness only kii(;wn by thee: 
 " Thy will be done !" We sit alone 
 
 And grief within our hearts grows strong 
 Witli jjassionate moaning till thou come, 
 
 And turn it to a song. 
 
 Come when tlie days go heavily, 
 
 Weigherl down with burdens hard to bear; 
 When joy a.nd hojje fail utterly, 
 
 And leave us fronted with despair; 
 Come not with flattering earthly light, 
 
 Jiut with those clear, grand eyes that see 
 Straight toward eternity. 
 
 Teach us to watch when work seems vain, 
 
 This is half victory over fate, 
 To match ourselves against our pain ; 
 
 The rest is done when we can wait. 
 
 KoMcl H.iii'U. 18 
 
138 FOLDED HANDS. 
 
 Unveil our eyes to see how rife 
 
 With bloom the thorny path may be, 
 Which only Thou canst see. 
 
 CARL SPENCER. 
 
 Trial, when it weighs severely, 
 Stamps the Saviour's image clearly 
 
 On the heart of all his friends. 
 In the frame his hands have moulded 
 Is the future life unfolded — 
 
 Through the suffering which he sends. 
 
 Suffering keeps the thoughts compacted, 
 That the heart be not distracted 
 
 By the world's beguiling art. 
 'T is like some angelic warder. 
 Ever keeping sacred order 
 
 In the chambers of the heart. 
 
 Suffering tunes the heart's emotion 
 To eternity's devotion, 
 
 And awakes a fond desire 
 For the land where psalms are ringing, 
 And, with palms, the martyrs singing 
 
 Sweetly to the harpers' choir. 
 
THE SUFFERER'S COUCH. 139 
 
 STRENGTH TO LIVE. 
 
 There was a time, when low on bended knee, 
 With outstretched hand, and wet, uphfted eye, 
 
 I cried, " O Father, teach me how to die, 
 And give me strength Death's awful face to see. 
 And not to fear." Henceforth my prayer shall be, 
 
 " Help me to live !" Stern Life stalks slowly by, 
 
 Relentless and inexorable. No cry 
 For help or pity moveth her, as she 
 
 Gives to each one the burden of the day. 
 Nor heeds the limbs that bend beneath their load. 
 
 We may not shrink from our appointed task, 
 Nor pause to rest, however rough the road 
 
 She bids us walk in. Therefore let us pray, 
 
 Give us the strength we need to live, O God !" 
 
 MRS. JULIA C. R. DORR. 
 
 THE SUFFERERiS COUCH. 
 
 To live, and not to die ! 
 
 Only to wait and wait ; 
 To watch the passing of other feet 
 
 Within the heavenly gate. 
 
 To see the kindling light 
 
 On many a long-loved face, 
 As one after one the Master calls 
 
 Up to the higher place. 
 
I40 rornrn /r.txns. 
 
 To fool the looscncil clasp, 
 
 '1\) ratcli tlic ]xirtin^- smile, 
 To hear (ho whisper from dying lips, 
 
 "Only a little while!" 
 
 Only — and yet we weep. 
 
 ("lOil hides them from onr Kwe, 
 It sometimes seems too hard to rejoiee 
 
 Tliat the)- are there — above. 
 
 To live, and iu)t to ilie, 
 
 T(^ suiter, not to reii;"n, 
 Out in the dreary dark with the nii;ht. 
 
 '1\) wrestle haril with pain. 
 
 Tho\' with the erown oi peace 
 
 Vmv on each ealnunl hrow, 
 We with the sharpness o{ thorn and cross, 
 
 To lii;hl on still helow. 
 
 Silence! O restless heart, 
 In quietness be strong! 
 
 Well kntnveth the Lonl who wMtcheth thee 
 The pain ot "sullerini;" long." 
 lie knoweth -\et his lo\e 
 Is stronger than thy tears ; 
 
 Shall he let thee miss thy "full reward," 
 For all thy coward fears ? 
 
A IJTTf.K Wrrif.R. i4t 
 
 Many a boat would sail 
 
 TnU) the shining west, 
 Into the haven where she would be— 
 
 The land of quiet rest. 
 
 lUit o'er the darkening sea, 
 
 Through mist, and eold, and fear, 
 Cometh sweet a voice that biddeth peace : 
 
 'a'atience— thy Lord is here." 
 
 A LITTLE WHILE. 
 On ! for the peace that floweth as a river, 
 
 Making life's desert places bloom and smile ; 
 Oh ! for a faith which grasps heaven's bright for 
 ever. 
 Amid the shadows of that "little while." 
 
 A little while for patient vigil-keei)ing, 
 
 To face the storm, to wrestle willi the strong, 
 
 A little while to sow the seed with weeping, 
 
 Then bind the sheaves, and sing the harvest-song. 
 
 A little while to wear the robe of sadness. 
 To toil with weary steps through miry ways ; 
 
 Then to pour forth the fragrant oil of gladness, 
 And clasp the girdle round the robe of praise. 
 
142 FOLDED HANDS. 
 
 A little while midst shadow and illusion, 
 To strive by faith love's mysteries to spell : 
 
 Then read each dark enigma's bright solution, 
 And hail sight's verdict, " He doth all things 
 well." 
 
 A little while the earthen pitcher taking 
 
 To wayside brooks, from far-off fountains fed ; 
 
 Then the parched lip its thirst for ever slaking 
 Beside the fulness of the fountain-head. 
 
 A little while to keep the oil from failing, 
 A little while faith's flickering lamp to trim ; 
 
 And then the Bridegroom's coming footsteps hailing, 
 To haste to meet Him with the bridal hymn. 
 
 Thus He who is himself the gift and giver, 
 The future glory, and the present smile. 
 
 With his bright promise of the glad for ever 
 Can light the shadows of that little while. 
 
 JANE CREWDSON. 
 
 ''MY AIN COUNTRIES 
 I AM far frae my hame, an' I 'm weary aftenwhiles, 
 For the langed-for hame-bringing, an' my Father's 
 
 welcome smiles. 
 1 '11 ne'er be fu' content until my een do see 
 The gowden gates of heaven, an' my ain countrie. 
 
" J/1 ' AIN CO UNTRIE. " 1 43 
 
 The earth is flecked wi' flowers, mony-tinted, fresh 
 
 an' gay ; 
 The birdies warble blithely, for my Father made 
 
 them sae ; 
 But these sichts an' these soun's will as naething 
 
 be to me, 
 When I hear the angels singing in my ain countrie. 
 
 I 've his gude word of promise, that some gladsome 
 
 day the King 
 To his ain royal palace his banished hame will 
 
 bring ; 
 Wi' een an' wi' heart running owre we shall see 
 The " King in his beauty," an' our ain countrie. 
 
 My sins hae been mony, an' my sorrows hae been 
 
 sair ; 
 But there they '11 never vex me, nor be remembered 
 
 mair, 
 For his bluid has made me white, an' his hand shall 
 
 dry my e'e. 
 When he brings me hame at last to my ain countrie. 
 
 Like a bairn to its mither, a wee birdie to its nest, 
 I wad fain be ganging noo until my Saviour's breast. 
 For he geithers in his bosom, witless, worthless 
 
 lambs like me. 
 An' He carries them himsel', to his ain countrie. 
 
1-14 FOLDED HANDS. 
 
 He is faithful that has promised, he '11 surely come 
 
 again, 
 He'll keep his tryst with me, at what hour I dinna 
 
 ken ; 
 But he bids me still to wait, an' ready aye to be 
 To gang at ony moment to my ain countrie. 
 
 So I 'm watching aye, and singing o' my hame as 
 I wait 
 
 For the soun'ing o' his footfa' this side the gowden 
 gate. 
 
 God gie his grace to ilk ane wha listens noo to 
 me, 
 
 That we may a' gang in gladness to our ain coun- 
 trie. MARY E. LKE. 
 
 IN GOD'S SCHOOL. 
 
 I LOVE to feel that I am taught 
 
 And, as a little child, 
 To note the lessons I have learnt 
 
 In passing through the wild. 
 For I am sure God teaches me. 
 
 And his own gracious hand 
 Each varying page before me spreads, 
 
 By love and wisdom planned. 
 
IN GOD'S SCHOOL. 1.15 
 
 I often think I cannot spell 
 
 The lesson I must learn, 
 And then, in weariness and doubt, 
 
 I pray the page may turn ; 
 And time goes on, and soon I fiiul 
 
 I was learning all the while ; 
 And words which seemed most dimly traced, 
 
 Shine out with rainbow smile. 
 
 Or sometimes strangely I forget. 
 
 And, learning o'er and o'er 
 A lesson all with tear-drops wet, 
 
 Which I have learned before, 
 lie chides me not, but waits awhile, 
 
 Then wipes my heavy eyes ; 
 Oh, what a teacher is our God, 
 
 So patient and so wise ! 
 
 Dark, silent hours of study fall. 
 
 And I can scarcely see : 
 Then one beside me whispers low 
 
 What is so hard to me. 
 'T is easier then ! I am so glad 
 
 I am not taught alone ; 
 It is such help to overhear 
 
 A lesson like my own. 
 
 Folded Iliinds. 19 
 
T46 FOLDED lUADS. 
 
 Sometimes the Master gives to me 
 
 A strange, new alphabet ; 
 I wonder what its use will be, 
 
 Or why it need be set. 
 And then I find this tongue alone 
 
 Some stranger ear can reach, 
 One whom He may commission me 
 
 For Him to train and teach. 
 
 If others sadly bring to me 
 
 A lesson hard and new, 
 I often find that helping them 
 
 Has made me learn it too. 
 Or, had I learned it long before, 
 
 My toil is overpaid, 
 If so one tearful eye may see 
 
 One lesson plainer made. 
 
 We do not sec our Leather's face, 
 
 We do not hear his voice; 
 And yet we know that he is near. 
 
 We feel it, and rejoice. 
 There is a music round our hearts, 
 
 Set in no mortal key ; 
 There is a presence with our souls, 
 
 We know that it is he. 
 
HOMEWARDS. i47 
 
 Ills loving tcacliing cannot fail ; 
 
 And wc shall know at last 
 ICach task that seemed so hard and strange, 
 
 When learning-time is past. 
 Oh ! may we learn to love liim more, 
 
 By every opening page, 
 By every lesson he shall mark 
 
 With daily ripening age. 
 
 And then, to " know as we are known " 
 
 Shall be our glorious prize ; 
 To see the Teacher who hatli been 
 
 So patient and so wise ; 
 O joy untold ! Yet not alone 
 
 Shall ours the gladness be; 
 The travail of his soul in us 
 
 Our Saviour God shall see. 
 
 J'KANCF.S RIDM'.Y IIAVKRCAL. 
 
 HOMEWARDS, 
 Dropping down the troubled river, 
 
 To the tranquil, tranquil shore ; 
 Dropping down the misty river. 
 Times' willow-shaded river, 
 
 To the spring-embosomed shore : 
 Where the sweet light shincth ever. 
 
I4S .roLDF.n jrAuXns. 
 
 j\\u\ ibc sun goes down no more— 
 Oh, wondrous, wondrous sliorc ! 
 
 Dropping down llic noisy river, 
 To our peaceful, peaceful home ; 
 
 J)roi)ping down the turbid river, 
 
 luirlli's bustling, crowded river, 
 To our gentle, gentle home. 
 
 Where the rough roar riseth never, 
 And the vcxings cannot come — 
 Oh, loved and longed-for home ! 
 
 J)rop[)ing down the eddying river, 
 With a Ilelmsnian true nnd tried ; 
 
 ])rop[)ing down the perilous river — 
 
 Mortality's dark river, 
 
 With a sure and heavenly Guide; 
 
 I'A'cn lie, who, to deliver 
 
 My soul from death, hath died — 
 O Helmsman, true and tried ! 
 
 Dropping down the rapid river, 
 To the dear and deathless land ; 
 
 Dropping down the well-known river, 
 
 Life's swollen and rushing river, 
 To the resuirect ion-land ! 
 
 Where the living live for ever, 
 
LOVK AND A' /'.ST. 
 
 149 
 
 And the (k'.'id have joined the band, 
 Oh, fair and blessed land ! honak. 
 
 JAJVK AND Rl'isr. 
 " F-ovc is swccttr tlian rest." IIknky Tim rod. 
 " RicsT will soon be .L;ranled, dear; 
 
 Think of all the bliss 
 Wlien you reach that blighter sphere, 
 
 Lifted free of this ! 
 Home, and rest, and palms, .'ind i)eaee ! 
 
 Verily sueh [;ain, 
 J^'rom the losses of release 
 
 Jkilances the pain !" 
 
 "Yes ; but human love to mc 
 
 Is so near divine, 
 That my heart elin<;s yearn in;;ly 
 
 Iwen to life like mine. 
 Love is sweeter far than rest — 
 
 That alone T know — 
 And the soul that loves me best 
 
 Will not let me go." 
 
 " I Tome, and rest, and heaven, dear, 
 
 [awc is in them all ! 
 Tenderest love is given, dear, 
 
 In the Saviour's call ; 
 
ISO Foin/'P nAxns. 
 
 lie would lift your lace to his. 
 
 Fold you to his breast, 
 Tcacli you what a crown int; 'l is 
 
 When ho olTors rest !" 
 
 *' i\ost is sweet — how well I know 
 
 l\esl llial lollows care — 
 When the tired sun droppeth low, 
 
 Ami beside ni)' ehair 
 1/istens one while I rei>cMt, 
 
 r>y her love caressed, 
 *Ah, my darlini;", love is sweet. 
 
 Sweeter c^ven than rest !' " 
 
 •' Yet, bclovotl, more than we 
 
 Understand, 1 fe i;ives 
 Unto him who trusllully 
 
 In I lis promise lives ; 
 Measure all the bliss we can, 
 
 Still must be believed 
 Never has the heait of man 
 
 Terfeet joy conceived !" 
 
 •'True, ah, true, and well 1 mark 
 All your words would teach — 
 
 And my soul beyond the dark 
 Stretches forth to reach 
 
l''ai(Ii yet fuller, moic C()n)|)l('lr 
 
 While my lii)s nllest 
 1 1 is love UKikes lie.iveii sweet, 
 
 Love is in ore tJiaii res I /" 
 
 MAInV h. dodci-. 
 
 A SOLDI I'.N'S /)/■:,] 7'//. 
 
 I F,AV me down lo sleep, 
 Willi lillle (hoiii'.lit 01- eare, 
 
 Whelher my wakiiii; (iiul 
 Me here, or there. 
 
 A bowing, burdened head, 
 
 That only seeks to rest, 
 lJn(|uestionin^, u|)on 
 
 A Iovin<; bieast. 
 
 My <;-oo(l ii;;ld. hand ror<;-ets 
 Its wonted cunning; now ; 
 
 To niareh the weary march, 
 I know not how. 
 
 I am not eager, bold, 
 
 Nor strong — all that is i)ast; 
 The summons home has eomc 
 
 At last, at last. 
 
i5-» Fornrn //.ix/w. 
 
 M \- li.ill Aax's wiM k is iK>iu\ 
 Aiul (his IS .ill \\\\ |>.ii 1 ; 
 
 I i\\\c A p.itinit ( iod 
 M \ p.il iriil luMi t, 
 
 ^Aml j'.i.isp liis b.iniuM slill, 
 
 'rh(>ii;;li .ill [\\c Miu" In- tliin ; 
 Tlu\Sr .s(li|>("S. .IS wv-ll .is si. IIS, 
 
 1 -cad .illri I inn. 
 
 lt>iiNl> iiNl>iK A Muniiu's niiKW A I i-oi;i i;i>v\l. 
 
 1 TIJINK il ihoii lOlllJsl IvHOW, 
 
 ( ) soul Ih.il will roinitl.iiii. 
 W'h.il lirs roiuiMlril l>rlo\v 
 
 ( hu bunion .nul oui p.iiu : 
 1 K»\v just (uu .luiMush bi ini;s 
 Ni\uiM (liivso K)U;;ril Um thini;.s 
 \\ I' srok loi now \\\ \ .nn. 
 tlTink lliou wouKIsl ioji>iri\ auil not ((Munl.iiu. 
 
 1 think il tliou lOuKlst si\\ 
 Willi th\ dun UKMl.iI sirjil. 
 
 1 low nu\nun;;s d.n k ti> 1 \\cc 
 Ave sh.ulows liulin:; liijil ; 
 
PR.tVF.R. 153 
 
 Truth's flloits ci()SS(.-(I iind vtwcd, 
 Life's |»tii|)()se nil pcr|)lc*.\((l, 
 II thou (oiihlst see tlu'in rij'.hl, 
 I think thai they would sccui all clear, ;uid wist', 
 and hiijdil. 
 
 And yi;t Lhoii canst not know, 
 And yet Ihou ciuisL not sec; 
 Wis<loiu and sijdit arc slow 
 
 I n |)oor hiunanily. 
 If thou (oiddst ti list, poor soul, 
 J 11 lliiu who lulcs the wiiolc, 
 Thou woiildst find pcac^c and I'csl ; 
 Wisdom ;uid ii|-dil arc well, hut trust is hcst. 
 
 AI)I.I.AII)l', I'KoCloU. 
 
 /'A'./ )7,A'. 
 
 Jii';(;Ai)Si'. yoiii way is dai k is ihcitt no li;^dit? 
 
 1.0! when nij^djl's shades arc deepest, mom is 
 ni<..h! 
 
 Scud out into the fdooin an earnest cry, 
 A pleaclinj'; lor one moment's clearer si;.dit. 
 And thai wild ciy shall reach the \\\\\\\'\\c.\ 
 
 'rhioiijdi de<-pest deej)S and hi;die:.l hei;dit; shall 
 
 "lly, 
 And hrin^^ the lli['.h lUeinal wheicyoii lie 
 
 Ko|.|».| llaii.U. ^20 
 
154 FOLDED HANDS. 
 
 Crushed prone and helpless 'neath some sorrow's 
 
 might. 
 God were no God could he forbear to hear 
 
 His children calling 'mid earth's pain and dole. 
 Tray .then in faith ! Your prayer will bring him near 
 
 To comfort and uplift the fainting soul. 
 Pray, and for one brief flash you shall see clear, 
 Beyond earth's mists and shades, the spirit's glori- 
 ous goal ! ALICE WILLIAMS. 
 
 DISCIPLINE. 
 
 A BLOCK of marble caught the glance 
 
 Of Buonarotti's eyes. 
 Which brightened in their solemn deeps, 
 
 Like meteor-lighted skies. 
 
 And one who stood beside him listened. 
 
 Smiling as he heard, 
 For, " I will make an angel of it," 
 
 Was the sculptor's word. 
 
 And mallet soon, and chisel sharp 
 The stubborn block assailed. 
 
 And blow by blow, and pang by pang, 
 The prisoner unveiled. 
 
DTSCIJ'JJNE. 155 
 
 A brow was lifted high and pare, 
 
 The waking eyes ontshonc, 
 And as the master sharply wrought, 
 
 A smile broke through the stone ! 
 
 Beneath the ehisel's edge, the hair 
 
 Escaped in floating rings ; 
 And plume by plume was slowly freed 
 
 The sweep of half-furled wings. 
 The stately bust and graceful limbs 
 
 Their marl)le fetters shed, 
 And where the shapeless block had been. 
 
 An angel stood instead ! 
 
 O blows that smite, O hurts that pierce 
 
 This shrinking heart of mine, 
 What are ye but the Master's tools 
 
 Forming a work divine ? 
 
 O hope that crumbles at my feet ! 
 
 O joy that mocks and flies ! 
 What are ye but tlie clogs that bind 
 
 My spirit from the skies ? 
 
 Sculptor of souls ! I lift to Thee 
 
 Encumbered heart and hands ; 
 Spare not the chisel ; set me free. 
 
 However dear the l)ands. 
 
I low l)lf;;l il ;ill lluvic .'icciiiiii;', ills, 
 Will* li (li.iw my llioiij'jil:; h> llicc, 
 
 SluMild only |>i(>\'i' Ih.il llioii will iiiiikc 
 All ;m;.;cl oiil ol \\\v \ 
 
 jrs I' AS lion I lAns. 
 
 Just as (Jnd's leads me, I would JM); 
 T would not ;»sk lo ilioosi' my way, 
 L'onlcid Willi wlial \w will Ik'sIow, 
 As.'iuii'd lie will nol hi me shay. 
 So as lu* K-ads ni\' p illi I make, 
 And slt'j) by sicp I {dadly laki*, 
 A idiild in him t'onlidinjjL. 
 
 just :is ( lod leads, I am content : 
 ! I est me ealml\' in his hands : 
 Thai whu h In- has di'( leed and sent — 
 That whit h his will loi nu' i-ommand.' 
 I would thai lu' should all ItiHd, 
 Thai I should do his |',iaeions will 
 In liviii,". or in d\'in^;'. 
 
 just as (\^^.\ leads. I all ivsij-ji ; 
 
 I II usi me lo in\' hallu'i's will : 
 When reason's ia\s deei-plivo shiiu*. 
 
 1 lis counsel would I yi>t lullil ; 
 
BY AND II V. 
 
 TIi.'il vvlii< li hi:; love oKl.iIncd :is ii;',Iil| 
 licfoic lie I)i()ii;'Jil iiK' t(j I-Ik; li;.',lil. 
 My ;ill ill liiiii rc'.';i[;ni!)[;'. 
 
 Just as (lod 1<m(Is iiic, I aMdc, 
 
 I II lail li, ill hope, in .siillci iiiv, 1 1 iic ; 
 I lis si rciij;! h is cvci l)y my .side — 
 (.'ail aii[',hl my hold on liim undo! 
 I liold me firm in |)ali(-ii('<', knowing 
 'I'lial (i<id my lilr i:; still hcslowillg — 
 TIk! hfsl in kindiii-ss scndiii}';. 
 
 Just as (iod leads, I onwaid }M), 
 
 Oiil ;imid t lioi ns and In iii s seen ; 
 (jod docs nol yd Ins I'liidaiKc show — 
 l>iil in the (lid il shall he seen 
 I low, l>y a loviii;', I'alhci'.s will, 
 I''ailhlul and line, \w. leads nic still. 
 luoM 'vnY. (;kkman. 
 
 57 
 
 /{]■ .lA'/) //)'. 
 WiiA'i will il mailer, hy and by, 
 
 Whethei my path below was bii;'Jil, 
 Wh<tlliei- it wound Ihioiiidi daik oi li;'.hl, 
 (liidt:r a. j'.ray or a j'/ddeii sl;y, 
 VVlx-n I look ba< k on it by and by ? 
 
iss ror.DED irAxns. 
 
 What will il niallcr, by-aiul-by, 
 Whether unhelpecl, 1 tDiletl alone, 
 Dashing- my foot a,L;ainst a stone, 
 Missiiii;- Iho chari;o of the anL;ol nii^h, 
 r>iililinL; nic lliink o[ the hy-antl-hy ? 
 
 What will it matter, by-and by, 
 Whether with laughins;- joy 1 went 
 Down throngh the years with a i;lail eontent, 
 Never believini;-, nay, not I, 
 Tears Wi)uUl be sweeter by-and-by ? 
 
 What will it matter, by-anil-bv, 
 
 Whether with eheek ti> eheek I've lain, 
 Close by the ixillid ani;el, Tain, 
 
 Soothini;- myselt" throui;h si>b and siL;h, 
 
 All will be elsewise by-and-b)' ? 
 
 What will it matter? NaUi;lU, if I 
 Only am sure the way I 'v^^ trod, 
 (din)mv or L;laddened, leads to Ciod. 
 
 Oueslionini;" not ol the how, the wh\', 
 
 If I but reaeh Him by-and-by. 
 
 Ah! it will matter by-and-by 
 
 N^othino- hut fliis : that ]o\ or pain 
 Lifted me skyward, helped to i;ain, 
 
rrrr. /'h'/'C/oi s roKi'.iv. 
 
 IS9 
 
 Whether Ihioii.-'.h liu k, or smile, oi sij-.ii, 
 Heaven — liome love — all — hy-aiid-hy 1 
 
 MAKCAKKP J. I'KKSroN. 
 
 / 7 / a; rRI'A'IOl /. S" / 'OK I'lN. 
 I iiAVF': somelhin;^' Jesus ^avc! me 
 
 I^'or my very own ; 
 It is someliiinj', which he sent me 
 I'rom his Ihione. 
 
 I (lid hut seek h)r hidden ;_;()ld 
 
 In earlh's '-.ronnd, 
 Nor ^ave my wealth to [;ain the |)e;iil 
 
 Which I found ! 
 
 It is somelhin;-, whi( h I c;n ry 
 
 Neai- my heai t ; 
 It is s.ih^ 1 ill Jesus bids me 
 
 l''rom il j);iit. 
 
 In itsilf it h.'is no value 
 
 More; than tears ; 
 Though I 'm weary as I hear it, 
 
 I 'vc; no fears. 
 
 It is precious as a token, 
 
 1^'roni my Lord, 
 That his heart-1]H)u;.dit is as loving 
 
 As his word. 
 
r)o FOLDED HANDS, 
 
 Like his presence it doth bring me 
 
 Peace divine ; 
 'Tis his sweet and tender whisper, 
 
 *• Thou art mine !" 
 
 What's the gift I clasp so closely; 
 
 Wouldst thou see ? 
 'T is a cross, which Christ my master 
 
 Sent to me. 
 
 If my human hands had found it, 
 
 I should grieve ; 
 lUit my Jesus laid it on me, 
 
 I believe ! 
 
 Oh ! how sweet it is to bear it 
 
 As His gift, 
 While the biii-don of my treasure 
 
 Christ doth lift. 
 
 GRACE WEBSTER HINSDALE 
 
 THE HHLS OF GOD. 
 
 'T IS like a narrow valley-land, 
 
 This earthly way of mine ; 
 Before me, clad in glory grand, 
 
 I see the hills divine — 
 Those heights the saintly long have trod- 
 The hills of hope, the hills of God ! 
 
THE HILLS OF COD. i6i 
 
 Though mists of doiibl enfold nic in, 
 Though lliroiigh the dark I gro[)c, 
 
 The upward path my feet may win 
 Tliat mounts tlic hcavcidy slo[)C ; 
 
 And walking through this lowland here 
 
 1 know the hills of (Jod are near. 
 
 Unto them oft I lift mine eyes, 
 
 That oft with tears are wet, 
 And through the mist they ealmly rise 
 
 Where sun no more shall set. 
 To me for ever grand and. fair 
 The hills of God — my hel|) is there ! 
 
 Shall I complain if joy go by 
 
 With summer days, and winter follow it .^ 
 
 If He who gave the gladness I have i<nown, 
 
 Shall take it from me, shall I make my moan } 
 
 Nay! for it is all His — the joy — the i)ain, 
 
 The weeping and the mirth — the buoyant ijrcath, 
 
 Of hai)py toil ! tlu; mist on weary brain. 
 
 The turmoil of our life ; the hush of death, 
 
 And neither life nor death — things near nor far, 
 
 Shall sever us from Him whose own we are. 
 
 PoM».l llull.lM. 21 
 
i62 FOLDED HANDS. 
 
 AS GOD WILLS. 
 Years ago I vainly fancied 
 
 God had work for me to do ; 
 And my foolish heart was longing 
 Some great proof of love to show. 
 
 Then my Father in his goodness, 
 
 (How I bless his gentle hand !) 
 Took from me each cherished labor, 
 
 Made me meekly wait and stand. 
 How my spirit chafed and fretted ! 
 
 How I strove against my lot ! 
 "Why, oh why is this ?" I murmured ; 
 
 But my Father answered not. 
 Only firmer still he held me 
 
 To the task he had assigned ; 
 Only as I vainly struggled, 
 
 Closer still my chains did bind. 
 
 Must I spend my days in silence 
 
 Waiting for my Lord to speak .^ 
 Tend one lamb, and leave the hundred 
 
 Straying, that I yearned to seek } 
 Must I waste in menial service 
 
 Gifts that might so many bless ; 
 Seeing others gain promotion, 
 
 Who, I felt, deserved it less .^ 
 
SLEEP. 163 
 
 Yes, I must ; my Father knew it, 
 
 And in mercy did not spare : 
 Foolish though my heart, he loved it, 
 
 For its truest weal took care. 
 
 Oh how foolish ! now I see it, 
 
 And I wonder and adore. 
 Thinking of the matchless patience 
 
 That with all its folly bore. 
 
 Now no more by pride made restless. 
 
 All is easy, pleasant, light ; 
 Useless if he wills, I will it. 
 
 Busy if He deems it right. 
 
 Gently chastened, sweetly humbled, 
 
 Like a little child I sit ; 
 Happy in my lowly posture. 
 
 At my Heavenly Father's feet. 
 
 SLEEP. 
 •' So He giveth His beloved sleep." 
 
 He sees when their footsteps falter. 
 
 When their hearts grow weak and faint ; 
 
 He marks when their strength is failing. 
 And listens to each complaint. 
 
ir.i j'oi ni-p HANDS. 
 
 lie l)i(ls IIkMII U\s( loi .1 SCMSOII, 
 
 l''()i" the palhwiiy lias ^lowii so steep; 
 And loldcd in Liir i;rccn pastures, 
 lie ^ivelh his loved ones sleep. 
 
 Take weary and wornout eluKlren, 
 
 That sii;h lor thi- da)'lii;ht's elose, 
 lie knows that tlu^\' olt are lonj^ini;" 
 
 I'or lunne and its sweet lepose. 
 Si) he lalls tluan in Ironi their labors, 
 
 Vac the shadows ahonl them ereep, 
 And silently walehin;', o'er tluan, 
 
 lie i;i\'elh his loyed ones sleep. 
 
 lie ^i\'eth it. oh. so gently ! 
 
 As a mother will hush to rest 
 The hahc" that slie si'lth' pillows 
 
 So tendei 1\' on her hreast. 
 l'\>i iM)t ItMi art' now the tiials 
 
 Anil sorrows that nuule them vvccp, 
 l'\)r with many a soi)thin:; promise 
 
 lie i;iveth his loved ones sleep. 
 
 All ilriMil ol" the distant liitnre. 
 
 All tears that oppiessed to d.iv, 
 lake mists th.il. elear in the snnli^^ht, 
 
 lla\e noiselessly passeil away. 
 
'' i.ooKiNc, UNTO yi'isrsr ,65 
 
 Nor i^all, noi" chiinoi- ( an lousc llicin 
 l^'roni slumbers so j)iir(.' and (Ice]), 
 
 For only his voi(x^ can reach thcni, 
 Who <',ivcth Ill's loved ones sleep. 
 
 Weep nol thai ihcir trials an; ovi'r, 
 
 Thai onis an; hut just begun ; 
 God grant we may rest as calmly 
 
 When our tired day is done! 
 Till then wc; woidd trust with calmness 
 
 ( )ur souls to 1 iim (o keep, 
 And rejoice in the sweet assurance, 
 
 Wi:^ giveth his loved ones sleep. 
 
 ''/.()() k'/NC UN 10 ji'.susr 
 I'ivr.s that aie weary, and hearts thai are sore, 
 1.00k olf unto Jesus, and sorrow no more; ! 
 Tin; light of his countenance shineth so bright. 
 That on earth as in heaven there need be no night. 
 
 Looking off unto Jesus, my eyes cannot sc;e 
 The troubles and (lang(;rs that throng about me; 
 They cannot be lilinded with sorr(nvful tears. 
 They cannot be shadowed with uid^elief-feais. 
 
 Looking off unto Jesus 1 go not astray; 
 
 My eyes are on him, and he shows me the way. 
 
166 J'O/./l/:/^ //.L\7)S. 
 
 The path may sconi (huk as ho leads nie along; 
 lUiL following Jesns, 1 cannot go wrong. 
 
 Looking olT nnto jesus, my heart cannot fear; 
 Its trembling is still when I see Jesns near. 
 T know that his power my safeguard will be, 
 ]^\>r, " Why arc ye troubled .^" he saith unto me. 
 
 Looking off nnlo Josns, oh, may 1 be found, 
 When ihe waters of Jordan encompass me round : 
 Let them bear me away in his presence to be ! 
 'T is but seeing him nearer, whom always I see. 
 
 Then, then I shall know the full beauty and grace 
 Of Jesus, my Lord, when I stand face to face. 
 I shall know how his love went before me each day, 
 .Anil wonder thai ever ni)' eyes tnrnetl away. 
 
 * 
 /X rilE Sl'XSE l\ 
 
 S(ii'"ri,v through the summer sunset 
 
 Steals the fragrance of the flowers; 
 Heavy droop the -honeysuckles, 
 
 T>ike the heath-bell after showers ; 
 And like strains of memory's music, 
 
 Ilalf-remembered in the s(,)ul, 
 ICchoes of sweet singing voices 
 
 From the distance softly roll. 
 
/;V 'riH'. suNsi'/r. 167 
 
 In IIk- West, Ihc .'iii<;cls ojx-n 
 
 Wide the [;;itc.s of sliiiiin^;- ;.;()l(l ; 
 And tlicir diiftiii^ wiii^s encompass 
 
 As in le,<.';en(l rare and old ; 
 Throii;^!) the poilal, sliinin;', downwind, 
 
 C'ltcli I ;diin])S('; of vvondioiis lliin^s, 
 And I .dniosl liear the (hitler 
 
 ( )f Ihe (hslaiit spiiil win[;s. 
 
 In the ^old of life's fair sunset, 
 
 liack through misty j^ates of linur, 
 ('K';ir the bells of memory echo 
 
 With a sweet and silvcjiy chime ; 
 And like tired child whosct playthings 
 
 With the eve arc l.iid :i|);irt, 
 lCm|)ly hands aie folded c.iindy 
 
 O'er my weaiy, waitin;.-; luiart. 
 
 i''oi' the <M)l(l('ii hjdit shinc'.'; sollly 
 
 O'er so niany lin;;eiinL^ years; 
 Jhi^ht with sunshine, dark with soi'row, 
 
 Days of rai)ture, nights of tears; 
 And I think the Master's angel 
 
 Not so v('ry far away, 
 r'or I hear his rustling ])inions 
 
 In the dying of the da)'. 
 
i6S FOLD ED HANDS, 
 
 Oh, my })iilscs inovo so slowly ! 
 
 Is ihc angel almost hcic ? 
 Surely you can hear him coming, 
 
 As his shinini;- feet draw near. 
 1 must |);iss the i;(>l(len ^t;ate\vay, 
 
 lOre it closes from the sight ; 
 See! the darkncvss i;athers closei", 
 
 Droops tlu' curtains ol the uij^ht. 
 
 I am wail in:; in the sunst't, 
 
 l''or the Master's welcome lall ; 
 I have let the earthly treasures 
 
 r'rom my tired finders lall ; 
 l.o, the whiti' wings of the angel 
 
 Gleam across my fading sight ! 
 Resting time is coming quickly; 
 
 Kiss me, children, sweet Good-night 
 
 s. H. r. 
 
 TniL heart is like an instrument, whose strings 
 Steal magic music from life's mystic frets ; 
 The golden threads are spun through suffeiing's 
 
 lire, 
 Wherewith the marriage robes for heaven are wo- 
 ven ; 
 And all the rarest hues of human life 
 Take raihance, and are rainbowed out in tears. 
 
 ea:K.\i.i) massky. 
 
rjIE r^LKSSING IN 'J'lIK ROD. 
 
 riir. jii.h.ssiNC IN I HI': nop. 
 
 'T IS my luii)i)incss below, 
 
 Nol — to live without the ci'oss, 
 lUit — llie Saviour's power lo know, 
 
 Snnetifyiiii;" every loss: 
 Trials must aiul will befall ; 
 
 ]5ut with humble faith to see 
 Love inseribt'd upon them all, 
 
 This is hap[)iness to me. 
 
 God in Israel sows the seeds 
 
 Of afHietion, pain, and toil; 
 These sjuiii^; iij) and ehoke the weeds 
 
 Whieh would else ()'ers[)read the soil. 
 Trials make the promise sweet ; 
 
 Trials [i^ivc new faith to ])rayer; 
 Trials brin^; me to His feet, 
 
 Lay me low, and keep me there. 
 
 ])i(l 1 meet no trials here, 
 
 No chastisements by the way, 
 Mi^ht I not with reason, fear 
 
 I should prove a castaway ? 
 ]5astards may escai)e the rod, 
 
 Sunk in earthly, vain delight ; 
 But the true-born child of God 
 
 Must not, would not, if he might. 
 22 
 
1 yo J'OL DF.D JJANDS. 
 
 EXILE n FROM I'll hi SANCTUARY. 
 Thousands, O Lord of Hosts, lliis day 
 
 Aroiiiul Ihino allar meet, 
 And tons of thousands throng- to pay 
 
 Thoir lu)niaL;o at thy feet. 
 They see thy i)o\ver and L;lory tliere, 
 
 As I have seen them too; 
 They read, they hear, they join in prayer, 
 
 As 1 was wont to <\<>. 
 They sini;- thy deeds, as I have snng-, 
 
 In sweet and solemn hiys : 
 Were I among them, my glad toni;ue 
 
 Might learn new themes of i)raise. 
 
 Vox thou art in the mitlst to leach, 
 When on thy name we call ; 
 
 And thou hast blessings. Lord, for eaeh — 
 Hast blessings, Lord, for all. 
 
 L of such fcllowshij) bereft, 
 
 In s}Mril lurn to lliee ; 
 Oh, hast thou not a blessing left, 
 
 A blessing. Lord, ft)r me ? 
 
 The tlew lies thick on all the ground ; 
 
 Shall my poor lleece be dry } 
 The manna rains from heaxcn aronnil ; 
 
 Shall I ()f hunger die } 
 
]5ch()l(l lliy i)ri.s()iu'r; loose my l)aiHls, 
 
 If 'l is thy };r:icious will ; 
 If not, coiUciUcd in thy hands, 
 
 IJchold thy prisoner still. 
 I may not to thy coiirls r(.;i)air, 
 
 Yet here thou surely art : 
 Lord, consecrate a house of prayer 
 
 In my surrendered heart. 
 
 To faith reveal the things unseen, 
 
 'j'o ho[)e the joys untold ; 
 Let love, without a veil between. 
 
 Thy f^lory now behold. 
 
 Oh, make thy face on me to shine, 
 'IMiat (lou])t and fc:ar may cease ; 
 Lift up thy countenance benign 
 
 On me, and give me peace. 
 
 — -^ — 
 
 In the cross of Christ I glory, 
 Towering o'er the wrecks of time; 
 
 All the light of sacred story 
 
 Gathers round its head sublijiK!. 
 
 When the woes of life o'ertake mc, 
 Hopes deceive and fears annoy. 
 
 Never shall the cross forsake me : 
 
 Lo ! it glows with peace and joy. 
 
 liovvRiNc;. 
 
FOi.nrn /i.i\/\s. 
 
 THE KIXC, OF (//.(VvM: 
 Leave my Jesus! never, never ! 
 
 Ah, what can more precious be ? 
 Rest and joy and light are ever 
 
 In his hand io i;ive to me. 
 All things that can satisfy, 
 I laving Jesus, those have I. 
 
 S^kmU with him, one little hour 
 Giveth a year's worth of gain ; 
 
 Grace autl peace put forth their power, 
 Joy doth wholly banish ixiin. 
 
 One faith-glance, that iindeth him, 
 
 Maketh earthly crowns look dim. 
 
 C)h, how light upon my shoulder 
 
 Lies my cross, now grown so small ! 
 
 For the Lord is my u[)hoKler, 
 Fits it to me, softens all. 
 
 Neither shall it always stay; 
 
 Patience ! it will pass away. 
 
 Now he leads me wonderfully. 
 
 Day by day, through sun atul rain ; 
 
 Yet I know ami trust hin; truly — 
 It is always for my gain. 
 
 Yes, his wonder-road indeed 
 
 Always heavenward doth lead. 
 
^S GOD LKADS. 173 
 
 Those who faithfully go forward, 
 In his changeless care shall go ; 
 
 Nothing doubtful or untoward 
 To the flock who Jesus know. 
 
 Jesus always is the same ; 
 
 True and Faithful is his name. 
 
 AS GOD Lit ADS. 
 
 As God leads me will I go, 
 Nor choose my way : 
 
 Let him choose the joy or woe 
 Of every day. 
 
 They cannot hurt my soul, 
 
 Because in his control ; 
 
 I leave to him the whole : 
 His children may. 
 
 As God leads me, I am still 
 
 Within his hand, 
 Though his purpose my self-will 
 
 Doth oft withstand ; 
 Yet I wish that none 
 But his will be done, 
 Till the end be won 
 
 That he hath planned. 
 
7^ 
 
 i-oi i^-n //.i\/\s. 
 
 As ( icxl KmiIs. I am lonlriil ; 
 
 1 \(' will l.ikr cair ; 
 All tlun[;s by his will air .srnt 
 
 That I nuist hear. 
 To him ! lakr uw Irar, 
 M \ wislu's whiK* i 'm 1um\' : 
 'I'lu' wa\' will all si-cm cKMr 
 
 W'Ikmi 1 am ihiaw 
 
 As riiul liM(ls im\ ll is miiu' 
 
 Vo lollow him ; 
 Soon all shall wi^iuKmImIIv shine 
 
 Which now soiMns dim ; 
 l''uHillcd bo his dornu' ! 
 What hr shall rhoosi^ lor \\w, 
 Ihat shall m\' poilion W\ 
 
 l'l> to Iho brim ! 
 
 As (lod K\uls nu\ so mv hrart 
 
 In laith shall ivst ; 
 No wnci nof I'oar my soul shall part 
 
 l''rom b'sns' briMst. 
 1 n swihM bolii-l 1 know 
 What way \\\\ lilo tloth _i',o : 
 Since C iiul pnniitlolh so. 
 
 That nuisl bo host. 
 
rill' iu)Nni' N I Axns. 
 
 n\ 
 
 rill' r>()k'ni i< i a .\ns. 
 
 I''AIIII.Iv, illlo lliy Invill;; llilllds 
 
 My Icchic .';|>iiil I ( nmiiiil, 
 WliiK' WMiKk'riii}.' in llicsc Ixtrdci l;iii(ls 
 
 Until Ihy voice shall siimiiinn ii. 
 
 P'atlicr, I would not daic lo clioosc! 
 
 A loiijM-i lilc, an caiiici dcalli ; 
 I know nol wlial my .'.oiil inijdil lose 
 
 I'.y :,li()i lcn('(| or pi ol i ;i( lc(l hi cil h. 
 
 Thc.'.r hoidci lands aic (aim and slill, 
 And sole inn aic Ihcii sih nl shades ; 
 
 And my hcail welcomes lliem, iinlil 
 The li;dil ol lile's loii."^ eveiiin!'. ladeS. 
 
 I heaid Ihtan spoken ol with dread, 
 As leai I III and mi(|iiiel places 
 
 Shades, wlicae I he liviii]; and I he dead 
 I .oolc sadly in cac h olhei's ia<(■^i. 
 
 Hill since lliy hand halh led me heic. 
 And I have seen ihe hoidca land ■ 
 
 Seen lh<' d.ii k i iv<'i llowiii;; near, 
 Stood on il.s 1)1 ink, as now I ;,laiid, 
 
,;■(; /•()/ /)//) //.Lrns. 
 
 There l».is Ix-i-n luilhm:-, li> .il.iiin 
 
 l\ly 1 1 rniMiii;; soul ; lu»\v ri>uKl 1 tc.ir 
 
 W'hilo thus nuin K'll with tliinr .iim ? 
 I \\c\c\ Irll ihrr li.ilt st> nr.ii . 
 
 W h.il .slmulil .ipi>.il \\\c in .i pl.iro 
 
 rh.il 1m 111;;,'; \\\r \\o\\[\\ ihmum IIut? 
 W'htMO I \\\A\ .iliiuvst srt- tli\' l.ui" 
 Suu'In' 'l is \\c\c in\' siuil \\(MiK1 \h\ 
 
 ri\("\' s,i\' llu- w.ivi's :\\c A.wk .lutl iK^-p. 
 
 rii.it l.iilli li.illi ju'i isiusl lu tlir I \\c\ ; 
 riii'N' sp^'.ik *>t cKmIIi with U'.n. .lUil wrrp. 
 Sli.iU iii\' siMil [HMish? Nrvri ! nrvorl 
 
 T know lluit (lu>ii wilt novoi \ca\c 
 
 'VUc soul tli.it tuMnMi's whilf it ilin!;.s 
 Vo thi"o 1 know Ihou will .uhit^w 
 
 Its p.»ss.i:\o on thino ontst ii'trhiul winj. 
 
 1 iMiinot sro [\\c i'.oKUmi i\.\[c 
 
 l'nU>Klin:". \c\ to wrKoiiu' \\\c ', 
 
 1 i-.iniu>t \c[ .intiriiMtr 
 
 '\\\v joy ot l\iM\ I'n'.s juhiloo ; 
 
 Tmt 1 will r.ilmU w.itrh .iiul \n.\\, 
 Until 1 hiMi in\' ."^^.u ioin s \'oirt' 
 Callin:; in\' h.ippN' SiUil .iw.iv 
 Vo sec his !\loi \ A\\y\ U'joice. 
 
ji'.NrsAi i:m rill': coi niuv. 
 '//•AV'.s' ///.// //// (ii^inrx. 
 
 To llu'c, ( ) (Iciii, (|c;i|- I ouiilry, 
 
 Miiir eyes llicii^ vi|_',ils keep; 
 I'oi very love, Ix'holdiiij' 
 
 '11 1 \' li;i|»|)y ii;iiiir, llicy wee p. 
 'I'hc iiiciil ion ol (liy j^loiy 
 
 Is uiK lion to llir hrciisl, 
 And nu*(|i( ine in ."icknt^ss, 
 
 And love :ind lilc ;nid icst. 
 
 < ) one, ( ) only n i ; i n ,s i o n , 
 
 ( ) |)iii.idisc oi joy, 
 VVIicic Icars ."ire ever l);inisli(*d, 
 
 And joys have no ;dloy. 
 Jiesitic lliy livinv, w;ili'is 
 
 All |)laiUs arc, ^rciil and small 
 The ( edar of the foresl, 
 
 The; hyssop on 1 he wall. 
 
 Thy aj',eless walls aic hoinidcd 
 
 Willi anielhysl nn|)i iced, 
 The siiinls huild np ih; lahi ic, 
 
 And Ihe (ornci.sloiK* is Chiist. 
 Thon hast no .shoic, lair oreaii ; 
 
 Thou has! no I inic, hi iv.hl day ; 
 I )(ai lounlain ol ri'ireshnieni 
 
 To pil<^riins far away ! 
 
 n 
 
78 roi.ni:n iiamks. 
 
 'JMu'v stand, those halls of Zion, 
 
 Conjiihilant with son*;-, 
 And bright witli many an an<;-cl 
 
 Ami many a maityr thronL;": 
 Tho rrinco is over in them, 
 
 The lii.;ht is aye serene, 
 The i)aslures of the l)less(5d 
 
 Are deeked in <;lorious sheen. 
 
 Then' is the tliiiuie (A Pavid, 
 
 Anil there, from toil released. 
 The slu)iit (^{ them that triumph, 
 
 The son<;' of them that fi\ist. 
 And they, beneath their J.eailcr 
 
 Who et)niiueretl in the fight, 
 l'\)r ever ami for ever 
 
 j\re elad in robes of while. 
 
 Ol I) I.AtIN HYMN 
 
 "/ iioi.n sriLi.:' 
 
 IVmn'.s furnaee-heat within me ([uix-ers, 
 CjoiI's breath n|H>n the llame doth blow, 
 
 And all my heart in anguish shivers, 
 And trend)les at the lierv i;T^^v; 
 
 And yet [ whispcM, " As (iod will !" 
 
 And in his hottest hie hold still. 
 
''I HOLD SV'ILLr 179 
 
 lie comes, and lays my licaii all heated 
 
 On the fair anvil, minded so 
 Into his own fair shape to beat it 
 
 With his great hammer, blow on blow : 
 And yet I whisper, " As God will !" 
 And at his heaviest blows stand still. 
 
 He takes my softened heart and beats it; 
 
 The sparks fly off at every blow ; 
 He tnrns it o'er and o'er, and heats il, 
 
 And lets it cool, and makes it glow; 
 And yet I whisper, *' As God will !" 
 And in his mighty hand hold still. 
 
 Why should I murmur? for the sr)ri-ow 
 Thus only longer-lived would be ; 
 
 His end may come, and will, to-morrow, 
 When God has done his work in me ; 
 
 So I say, trusting, "As Cj(;d will!" 
 
 And trusting to the (i\\^\, hold still. 
 
 He kindles for my i)ro(it purely 
 Affliction's glowing, fiery brand, 
 
 And all his heaviest blows are surely 
 Inflicted by a master-hand ; 
 
 So I say, praying, " As Cjod will !" 
 
 And hope in him, and suffer still. 
 
 J-KOM MM'. MCKMAN Ol" STrKM. 
 
So roini:n iiAxns. 
 
 nil-: /■:/•/: hw.u. k'i:ri'i;/':. 
 
 Ji'isus, lo\'cr of lu)' soul, 
 
 Let nu' to {\\y bosom lly, 
 Whilv I lie nearer waters roll, 
 
 Wliile the tempest still is hiL;li ; 
 I liile nu\ ( ) \\\\ Sax'ioiir, hide, 
 
 'I'ill the storm oi lile is jMst ; 
 Sale into the ha\en L;iiiile : 
 
 Oh, reeeive my soul at last ! 
 
 Other relui;i' ha\e 1 none; 
 
 llan;',s my helpless soul on thee: 
 1amv(.\ ah ! lea\e me nol alone. 
 
 Still sujipoit anil eomforl me! 
 All m\' trust on thee is stayed, 
 
 All my help from thee 1 brini;-; 
 C'o\er m\' ileteneeless head 
 
 With the shadow ol {\\\ win^i;". 
 
 Thou. O Ohiist. art all 1 want : 
 
 "^lovc than all in thee 1 hnd, 
 Riiisc the fallen, eheer the faint, 
 
 Ileal the siek, and lead the blind. 
 Just anil lu)ly is thy name, 
 
 I am all unri^htei)usness ; 
 Vile and full of sin I am, 
 
 Thou art full of truth and uraec. 
 
si:i<i'/N(; AND Ni'.s'nNC. 
 
 I'Iciilcoiis j;i,i(<- will) lli('(- is loiiiid, 
 
 ( it .'ICC lo cover ;ill my sin ; 
 I ,cl llic liciiliiif, slrc.'im.s iihoimd, 
 
 M.'ikc ;iii(l kcc|) MIC |)iiic vvilliiii, 
 Thou oi liic I lie ioiiiiliiiii .11 1 ; 
 
 I-'rcely lei me Like <>l lliec : 
 Spriiij,', llioii ii|) vvil liiii my lie.ii 1, 
 
 I\ise lo .ill elei iiily. 
 
 ( IIAKI.KS WK.I.I'.Y. 
 
 SK R I 7 A V ; / / A7 > />' / . . S' / 7 A^( /. 
 
 CjiKisT never ;isks of iis sik li hiisy labor 
 As Ic.'ivcs no lime lor rcstiiij^ at his feci; 
 
 The vv.iitin;'. alliliide of expectation, 
 
 I le ofllime.s ( oiiiils a service inosl complete. 
 
 lie somelimes w.'iiils our car, our lapl ;il leiilioii, 
 Th.'il he some s\v(;etc\st secret m;iy imp.iit ; 
 
 "I" is .'ilvv.'iys ill I he lime of deepest silence 
 
 Th;il he.'irl rind;, liuesl fellowship wilh heai t. 
 
 W(- somelimes wonder why our Loid dolh |)l;ice us 
 Within a sphere so narrow, so ohseuie, 
 
 That nolhiii}^^ we rail 7(V/'/' can find an enlr.nice, 
 Wheic 's only room lo miKci lo eiirliire ! 
 
iS3 I'Oinh'n HANDS. 
 
 VVi'll, (u)(l lovi's |);iliciu-{' ! Souls (hat dwell in 
 si illness, 
 
 l)()iii_L; tlu' lilllc Ihiiif^s or icsliui'; (luile, 
 May just as pt'iioiily iiiHil tln-ii- mission, 
 
 Ih' jusl as usclul in llu' I'^alhci's si<;ht, 
 
 As Ihey who vjappK' wilh some <.',iant evil, 
 Clcarin;.', :i path that every eye may see! 
 
 Our Sa\iour caii's foi- rhecrful ac(iuiosrencc, 
 As niurh as loi- a busy ininislry. 
 
 And yet he does love service where 't is given 
 Hy «;i"atcful love that clothes itself in (\Q\ti\, 
 
 Hut work that's doni' heneath the seouij^e of duty, 
 He suii' to sinJi he ^ives but little heed. 
 
 Then seek to pK'ase him, whatsoe'ei" he bids thee ! 
 
 Whethei- to do to suffer — to lie still ! 
 'Twill matter little by what })ath he led us, 
 
 ]f in it all we s()ii;.';lU to do his will ! 
 
 II. W. I!., IN " WOKIIS Ol' KAllll." 
 
 'I'liou, () most cH)mpassionate, 
 Who didst stoop tt) oui" estate, 
 Drinkinj;" of tlu' i up we (h"ain, 
 Ti iM(hn^ in oui |)ath ol pain — 
 
MY TRUST. 183 
 
 Through the doubt and mystery, 
 Grant us each thy steps to see, 
 And the grace to draw from tlience 
 Larger hope and confidence ; 
 
 Show thy vacant tomb, and let, 
 As of old, the angels sit 
 Whispering by its open door, 
 " Fear not, He hath gone before." 
 
 J. G. vvini 1 ii:r. 
 
 MY TRUST. 
 
 I KNOW not if the Lord will grant 
 The things I long for most, 
 
 Or if the hope most dear to me 
 Must be for ever lost ; 
 
 Or if he deems it best fulfdlcd 
 Only at bitter cost. 
 
 Perhaps the way he may appoint 
 Is one I would not choose, 
 
 Where I cannot employ the powers 
 I most desire to use ; 
 
 The thing he takes from me may be 
 The hardest thing to lose. 
 
is.| loi ni^n //.{.\/\s. 
 
 I li- m.i\ (U-ii\' in\' (.M;;ri- li.iiuls, 
 'V\\c work {\\c\ loii;', (*> «K>, 
 
 ()i l.il<i' liDin llicm soiiir lovnl oin|)lt)y 
 W'liiih r.uli tl.i\' iliMiiM' I'.rcw. 
 
 And y\\c (luMii in its \)\,\(C ;i l.isk, 
 I laid ;ni(l iiiiwliolrsoini', loo. 
 
 Tlic loils thai romr lo ini' may scoin 
 \ \\c iiai iU\sl oiu's lo hi'ar, 
 
 '\'\\c !;rirls and losses lliat \\c siMids 
 riirir sadd(\sl loiins may wrar, 
 
 And when I Ion:', \\\c niosl lo|- irst 
 Ma\' roinc tlu' luMxicsl caiw 
 
 lUil (his ont' tliin;', I know ; lluis far 
 '\'\\c c\c ol lail h c.\\\ sih' ; 
 
 I lu' path in wliirh lu' Icaiks my sti'ps 
 
 Is just llio l)osl lor WW ; 
 'Jdu' one whiih 1 mij.;lit rhoosr to walk 
 A1iL;ht not the hiipi)iosl bo. 
 
 And if ho lakes away the joys 
 \Vlu)se \'aliie sei'ms so hi<',h, 
 
 And the dear hoj)es I eheiish now 
 W'ithrn'il helon* \\\c Wc, 
 
 1 know ihe hopes thai he will i;ivo 
 Can never Lule tn tlii*. 
 
/.'./( A l\) I III']. 
 
 I know llic 1. 1, Is I li.il Ik- ;i|)|Hiiiil;; 
 
 Will iiol l(M» ii k:,(>iiic |)i < »vc, 
 l''()i vvIkii I Ik- l.ihoi i;; loi liiiii, 
 
 TIk- ;;! Kii;'! Ii ( <>iik:; 1 1 oiii ;iIm)VO ; 
 And IIk- hi.J InK'.cr;; will nr.l l.iil, 
 
 VVIi.-n ;',ni.l..l l.y l.i:; I. .v. 
 
 'IIk- loil;. :hkI ;-,! i<l;. Ik- :.(-ikI;; ni.iy he 
 
 I '.III hie;. sill!',:; in (li.',;'_iii;.<- ; 
 I I i;; {'_{ ii( r ( ;in iii,il;c I lie swi-clc'il joys 
 
 I'l mil l)il Id <•:;! ;,()i i o w.'i i i.'ic ; 
 VVc :.<•(• nioic < l(-,iily oil I In oiij'.li lc;iiM, 
 
 '111. Ill vv<- ( .III wil Ii iiinlniiiiK'd c-yc;;. 
 
 So I |M) on, iiol 1. iiowiii;', wli.il 
 
 iVI.iy III my Inline he ; 
 I It-iivc il ;ill vvil li my df.n I ,oid, 
 
 A< ( cpl iii"^ |),il Kill ly 
 Wli;il<:'(i lie ;.(iid;. ol joy oi !;i id, 
 
 Sure 'I is llic he:. I (oi nn-. 
 
 MKI.KN ;(. ADAMM. 
 
 • •'.') 
 
 HACK /() ///'/''.. 
 
 '\'\\\ lii;,! |»;dc llow<i:i ol Iciidfi ;,|)iin|^ 
 
 I l;id <li mil': IIk- r\\\ ly d.vv, 
 
 'J Ik: hiid.'i willi v.old ;iiid |.iii|)l(- win;; 
 
 !")Uii;; love .S()n;vi loud iiiid li ii'-. 
 u. ' ' 2-1 
 
sr. loi nr n ii.wns. 
 
 Ami |mu\ wilh rosi's in lici Ii.iir, 
 Ami siiiisliinc flashing througli, 
 
 ]);iiuc(l o'er the hills wilh steps so r.uv, 
 The blossoms burst and grew. 
 
 liiil sunshine \v;iini \\\\(\ liii:;iinil bicalh 
 i^r()U;;hl s(ren;;th lo ;ill but nie : 
 
 \Ve;ny, I lii\' and liilked wilh denlh, 
 ( Il;id, leiii I ul lo bi" I ree. 
 
 The world seemed drillin;; lai' ;nv;iy ; 
 
 Its joys I did nol love ; 
 'i'he nioinini; ol ;i brighli'i" day 
 
 Shone on me I lom above. 
 
 1 trusted liim who giveth rest, 
 And ])ra\(Ml, " 'i'hy will be done !" 
 
 And he hath set-n it is not best 
 J go at early noon : 
 
 P'or now, when autumn's |)m"|)le wings 
 
 Are sprtMiI o'ei' hill and \\\\\ 
 A healing diaught some sj)iiit brings, 
 
 And life eonies baek to me ; 
 
 1/ife shoi'u of sliength and mi.xed with j)ain, 
 
 ViM life foi" love and duty, 
 With lu'aii to thiol) and ;dow again 
 
 At eaith's supernal beauty. 
 
V//1 ;;•///. /■■/■; /'cak. 
 
 ,?.y 
 
 Tlioii who ill love lia.sl sent lo im- 
 
 I Iciiliii;; on .niliimn'.s win;-.. 
 My hinkcii Iiciil. ;iii ollciiii;'. lice, 
 
 ( 'oilll il<' Im IIhc I hi ill,".. 
 
 Ilil.lA lol.MAN IN(.I l:'.')l I 
 
 /// 1 //// / /'•/' noNi-:. 
 
 Wic sec IK. I, know IK. I. All IIk- vv;iy 
 
 Is llil'jll. Willi 'I lirr ;il<.ll(' Js (lilV. 
 I'M, 1)1 oiil llic I'. I jciit':; liniiMcd dl 1(1, 
 Alx.vc IIk* sIoiiii <.ik- |.i;iy<-i we lill, 
 'I Iiy will l»<" (lone ! 
 
 ■| 1,,- II. si) ni.iy i.iil. Hk- 1k;iiI niiy l.iinl, 
 I'lil who ;iic we lo ni.'ikc ((»ni|)hiii)l, 
 ( )i (l;iM- lo |.I<-;k1 in linic:; likr IhcSC 
 'Ilic w(;ikiK",'. of (.III I'vc ol case? 
 'I'hy will he (loiK* ! 
 
 We l;ikr wilh f,<.lrinii 1 h;iiil;l iihicsH 
 ( )Mt hnni'ii lip, IK. I ;i',k il h^HH, 
 And ( (.mil it j'.y lh;il even we 
 M.'iy :iii(Tci, ;,civc, or w;iil lor 'I lice. 
 Thy will he (Ioik; ! 
 
 'riK.iif'.h dim, ;i'i yd, in linl .iii'l liiK; 
 We li.'K (• Ihy |)i' line's wise dcsi'Mi, 
 
v,s ivi ni'i^ II wns. 
 
 Ami lliiiiik lluT tli.il (iiii- \v.\c supplies 
 lis (l;n k irlii'l ol mum ilirc. 
 'lliy will l)r (loiic ! 
 
 And if in onr nnwoitliincss 
 'I'liy s.niiru i.il wine we pri\ss ; 
 II, iioni lli\' okIcmI's liciiU-tl bills 
 ()nr Iccl ;nr sc.nnid with ciiinson srars, 
 Thv will W (lour! 
 
 Sliikt' (lion llir M.islcr. \vi' Ihv ki-ys — 
 'I'lu' ;inl lu'in ol (Uir drsl inii\s ! 
 'Ilu- minor ol lliy loftitM" sli-ain, 
 ( )iii luMils sh.ill biratlu" \\w old iclr.iin. 
 'J"h\' will l)c' doiu' ! 
 
 JOHN »;. Will I I IP K 
 »■ 
 
 \() I' AS I // 7/ /. 
 
 l^iiNDioini I) and alono I slaiul, 
 
 Willi unknown lluwsliolds k^^w vm\\ hand ; 
 
 'I'lu' daikiu'ss (k'rpiMis as 1 i',i*>pi\ 
 
 All aid to loar, afraid to hopi" ; 
 
 \'rl lliis ono lliin:; I K'ain lo know, 
 
 i'"arh (Ia\' nioir snu"l\' as 1 «.;(), 
 
 'Thai doois aro opoiiod, ways aio niadt', 
 
 iuiidiMis aic lilted, or arc laid, 
 
X^OT AS I WIJ.L. iSr; 
 
 By some ftTcnt ])r)wi'i', iinsccii .'iiid si ill, 
 Unfjithoiiu'd ])iir|)()scs lo I'lillil. 
 " Nol :is I will." 
 
 I'.liiKJloldcd ;iiid .'done I w.iil, 
 Loss S('('iiis loo hilld, J'..nii loo l.dc ; 
 'I'oo lics'ivy hiirdcii.s in llic lo.id, 
 And too f(;w liclpcr.s on I lie |-o;id ; 
 And jo>y i;; vvcik, ;ind v.iici is slion;;, 
 And ycMifi :nid d;iy:; so Ion;-;, so Ion;-, ! 
 Yi-l lliis one 1 liin". I Ic.ii ii to l:novv, 
 Vmv\\ d,iy nioir sni (dy ;is I "o, 
 'J'li.'il I :nn ;d;id llir ;;ood ;nid dl 
 I'.y ( li;in[;clc;ss lavv.s arc oidcicd si ill. 
 " Not as I will." 
 
 "Not as I will," Ihc sound ^rows sweet 
 
 I'!a( li time my lips llict words repc^at. 
 
 " Not as I will ;" I lie d.iikness fe(ds 
 
 More safe lli.ni li;d)l, wIkii thai llion-dit f^te.ils, 
 
 T.ikc whlsjxacd voice, to (aim and l)le:;s 
 
 All unrest and all loneliness. 
 
 '* Not as I will," hecaiise the ( )ne 
 
 Who l(;ves IIS liisl ;ind hcsl ha:; j^oiie 
 
 ]'efore us on 1 he ro;id, ;mrl still 
 
 J'"o|- us nmsl ;dl his love fulid. 
 
 " Not as I will." in.i i.w iu;nt. 
 
iQc FOLDED HANDS. 
 
 THE PEACE OF GOD. 
 Is this the peace of God, this strange, sweet calm ? 
 The weary day is at its zenith still, 
 Yet 't is as if beside some cool, clear rill. 
 Through shadowy stillness rose an evening psalm, 
 And all the noise of life were hushed away. 
 And tranquil gladness reigned with gently sooth- 
 ing sway. 
 
 It was not so just now. I turned aside 
 
 With aching head, and heart most sorely bowed, 
 Around me cares and griefs in crushing crowd ; 
 
 While inly rose the sense, in swelling tide, 
 
 Of weakness, insufficiency, and sin. 
 
 And fear and gloom and doubt in mighty flood 
 rolled in. 
 
 That rushing flood I had no power to meet, 
 Nor strength to flee ; my present, future, past. 
 Myself, my sorrow, and my sin, I cast. 
 
 In utter helplessness, at Jesus' feet, 
 
 Then bent before the storm, if such his will ; 
 
 He saw the winds and waves, and whispered, 
 " Peace, be still !" 
 
 And there was calm ! O Saviour, I have proved 
 That thou to help and save art truly near ; 
 1 low else this quiet rest from grief and fear 
 
THE PEACE OF GOD. 19 r 
 
 And all distress ? The cross is not removed, 
 I must go forth to bear it as before, 
 But leaning on thine arm I dread its weight no 
 more. 
 
 Is it indeed thy peace? I have not tried 
 To analyze my faith, dissect my trust, 
 Or measure if belief be full and just. 
 
 And therefore claim thy peace. But thou hast 
 died : 
 
 I know that this is true, and true for me. 
 
 And knowing it, I come and cast my all on thee. 
 
 It is not that I feel less weak, but thou 
 Wilt be my strength. It is not that I see 
 Less sin, but more of pardoning love in thee, 
 And all-sufficient grace. Enough ! And now 
 All fluttering thought is stilled : I only rest 
 And feci that thou art near, and know that I am 
 
 blest. KRANCKS RIDLEY HAVKRflAL. 
 
 I DO not ask that God shall always make 
 
 My pathway light, 
 I only pray that lie will hold my hand 
 
 Throughout the night. 
 
n,.' /••('/ /'/•■/> //,/,V/'.V. 
 
 I (I.) II. 'I \\o\H' Id \\a\c llu^ llioins irmo\r(l 
 
 rii.il pin I »■ m\ li'vM, 
 1 i>nl\' .isk Id liihl Ins MrNsril ,\\ ms 
 
 l\Iv ;-.ilr u-luMt, 
 
 "/rA' (V/.^.^('/• /.v-; .i/a;a7>A7> trjvL/css \VK are 
 
 A7»'(>AV-',A"." 
 Jfsii.^ mil tens willi Mi'ssi-il snnlrs .lu' l^liMidini';, 
 
 l'\>i (liDii. who kiii'wr'.l how mii lir.nls to huMl^, 
 KiiPWi-sI [\\c Ii,ipp\- srrirt ol ihrii nu-ndin:;, 
 
 And \vr ivjtMvr in soiiow loi llw s.iko. 
 
 \\-s. I>UMk us .ill Id pirr<>s .»! (In pliMSUir, 
 
 I'oi \\\K' |Mh>i 1 1 .ij'jnrnts I .M\ lu' i(>inril 1>\ llu'i'; 
 
 Sn.iUh lionj lis, il iIumi will, oin r\iM\' Iumsiiu-. 
 l'0JiSCSsiii|\ \\\K\- \\c \\c\c\ i>D(M v.in 1h\ 
 
 Tlu'u^ is .1 swss-Iiu'ss in .i spiiil luDkrn. 
 
 I'h.il K'lh sDiils .ill.iin not, v.innot kiunv ; 
 I'o sihli .1 luMit lli\' jMoinisos \\\c spol;rn.'^ 
 riion ii.ist .1 si»kiri' l(M its siKMit \vih\ 
 
 And wluMl om WiMM' d.l> S 0\\ iMlth A\C iMuK'd, 
 
 And liom its .iiMl.ilions wo ,\\c liro, 
 Wo sli.ill lojiMro til, It wo wiMO luokrii. niondisl. 
 r»\' tlnno own skilllul li.md. dr.ii 1 oid. bv \\\vc ! 
 
 MKS. K. rUKNl'lSS. 
 
I.ONdlNCS, 
 
 «9? 
 
 I'm l"iij''",'' '"' ll"' iiiii'.i( f Yd I iii,il-.c •;(» '..kI .i 
 
 j;.. I 
 My '.'.III would '.liil.f ^oiiir- lull .w* el ( Im.mI, I.iiI <.Ii, 
 
 \\v II. ".li (lull. I,,.,, : 
 I 'ill w< ,iiy ol llii:; l»,il I liii;' , I M .iIiimcI jir ;f.|((|», 
 jii.'.l il'lkiilf^, like A lilllc ( liii'l, IIk- (.Old my '.(.III lo 
 
 k(C|). 
 
 I 'ill lnii|'iii('^ |()( llic iiiir;i( ! No liiiiiiiiii lifii ( ni.iy 
 1: 1 1 o w 
 
 'Mh' I'.li'i lo hiili;' llir rli'.roirl', vvllil'- yr| | '||| ioilj'^- 
 
 iii;'_ '.o : 
 
 '1 hey llillil. I ( IlOO-,<- llic- loilj'll lli'l<- lioir-,, hill lie 
 
 who ■ , 1 1 1 11 1 ; '_ 1 1 1 « • I y M • 
 I'.liow. |)( Ihi lliioii;'li llic );iii|'IiiiM liol» •, llif '.\\\\\\'y, 
 tl lie, (li-.'.lic. 
 
 I 'ill loiif'jiii; for 111'- imr.i' ' I 'in J'.l.i'l wIm n olli'i'i 
 
 I .ir.i- 
 'l lie liiiiiii|)li iiolc ill Mill( mil', in jt.iiii IIk- vow «• (;l 
 
 )>r;ii:;<' : 
 I 'ill ;',l;i'l, yrl li'.lcn wcjiinf , ;ri f lic;ii my (lr,f ofd'i 
 
 lliioii;'_li ; 
 C ,111 I .r, luv llic '.Wccl nr-,',^ .lU'l \\u\ loii;'^ |r» l»»iii;/ 
 
 i I 1 Of ) :' 
 if-'i'i'-i '( « i',r» 
 
T94 FOLDED JfANDS. 
 
 I'm ]()n,i;In<; for the music! O angels of his 
 
 heaven, 
 Lean low, and let your notes lloat down; ye know 
 
 when souls have striven. 
 I *m longing for the music ! Oh, soothe this aching 
 
 pain, 
 Bend low in love and pity, and let me catch your 
 
 strain. 
 
 I'm longing for the music! Must I always fail 
 and miss? 
 
 Father, in thine other world let it not be like this ! 
 When death the shattered instrument shall break, 
 
 oh, give me one 
 With all the melody of heaven attuned in unison. 
 
 1 'm longing for the music ! IC'en here, before I die, 
 If it may be thy will I fain would strike one melody: 
 Faltering and faint though it might be, weak with 
 
 the sickness long, 
 Yet, with no jarring, spoiling note, oh, might I 
 raise one song ! 
 
 I 'm longing for the music ! But God, thou know- 
 
 est best ; 
 And yet it seems beyond the strength thou dost 
 
 the sj)irit test ; 
 
THE COAT OF MANY COLORS. 195 
 
 The clouds arc thick, the night is dark, the storm 
 
 is sweeping wild, 
 Helpless and stunned and sick I lie ; Father, lose 
 
 not thy child ! 
 
 I 'm longing for the music ! Through all the rage 
 
 and roar, 
 I stumble on unknowing still, if thou be near or far. 
 Speak through the discord, voice of Christ ! utter 
 
 thy " Peace, be still !" 
 Help me to raise one low sweet note, the " Blessed 
 
 be thy will !" kate Montgomery. 
 
 THE COA T OF MANY COLORS. Gen. 37 : 3. 
 My life is like that garment strange 
 
 The patriarch Jacob made. 
 With many a piece and many a change 
 Of brightness and of shade. 
 
 A parent's work of love and care, 
 
 By deep affection planned ; 
 The»fairest robe a child can wear, 
 
 Made by a father's hand. 
 And strangely Joseph's gentle youth. 
 
 And life's unfolding maze, 
 Were ordered by that God of truth 
 
 Who portioned out his days. 
 
k/j folded hands. 
 
 Far from his home, in scenes of strife, 
 No storms his faith could move ; 
 
 Patient he trod that path in life 
 Traced out for him in love. 
 
 For me life's many-colored scene 
 
 Is in wise order laid ; 
 Bright spots of gladness come between, 
 
 Dark days and hours of shade. 
 
 And not one bit of brightness there. 
 But God my Father knows ; 
 
 And the same hand, in days of care 
 Plath measured out my woes. 
 
 And side by side, with perfect skill, 
 
 lie fits each part for me. 
 Nor asks he when my wayward will 
 
 Would like each part to be. 
 
 But none forgot or wrongly placed 
 
 ICternity will show. 
 When there, unravelled and retraced, 
 
 Are all these years below. 
 
 O Lord, increase our faith to feel 
 " Our times are in thy hand ;" 
 
 Be thou our guide through woe or weal. 
 Safe to the better land. 
 
REST OF TIIK WEARY, 197 
 
 y\N or. I) If VMM. 
 Let nothing make thcc sad or fretful, 
 Or too regretful ; 
 ]^,e still: 
 What God hath ordered must l)c right; 
 Then find in it thine own delight, 
 My will. 
 
 Why shouldst thou fill to-day with sorrow 
 About to-morrow, 
 My heart ? 
 One watches all with care most true ; 
 Doubt not tliat He will give thee, too. 
 Thy part. 
 
 Only be steadfast — never waver, 
 Nor seek earth's favor, 
 
 ]kit rest ; 
 Thou knowest what God wills must be 
 For all his creatures, so for thee : 
 
 The best. paui, flkminc;. 
 
 REST OF THE WKARY. 
 Jesus, thou rest of the weary, 
 
 Rest of my spirit thou art ; 
 Jesus, thou hope of the dreary, 
 
 Thou art the hope of my heart. 
 
1 98 FOLDED HANDS. 
 
 Is not thy tenderness proven, 
 True to the breath of a sigh ? 
 
 Thou, taking note of the raven, 
 Wilt not my pleading deny. 
 
 Ravens and sparrows before thee 
 Freely thy bounty receive ; 
 
 And as I kneel and adore thee, 
 Need I but ask and believe ? 
 
 What if my morn rose in sadness, 
 Noon was beclouded with fears, 
 
 Shall not the bow of thy gladness 
 Brighten my evening of tears ? 
 
 Jesus, my soul in its sorrow 
 Clings to thy love as its stay ; 
 
 God will take care of to-morrow ; 
 Thou art my trust for to-day. 
 
 SA VE, LORD, OR I PERISH. 
 At thy blest feet, dear Saviour, low I kneel, 
 While foaming billows roar and surge around, 
 And break in fury o'er my sinking head. 
 My day goes down in gloom profound and dense ; 
 Stretch forth thy hand and save me, else I die. 
 
BEST. 199 
 
 Speak but one word to me, O Presence briglU, 
 And light, and life, and love shall be infused 
 Internally throughout my gladdened soul ; 
 And evermore thy glory will I sing, 
 Till from this stormy sea I take my flight, 
 And find a glorious resting-place with thee. 
 
 KATK SUMNl'.K I'.HRK. 
 
 -♦ 
 
 REST. 
 O PRECIOUS Rest that follows pain, 
 
 Unutterably sweet art thou ! 
 Whose presence soft, again, again, 
 
 lias sealed with peace my aching brow. 
 
 From some divinest realm above. 
 
 With noiseless wing, thou drawest near, 
 
 And out of vials filled with love 
 Dost pour a balm of tender cheer. 
 
 We shrink away from dreary Pain ; 
 
 Yet she it is who flings the gates 
 A])art for thee ! \\\ vain, in vain, 
 
 Without such hel[) thy blessing waits. 
 
 Thy sandalled foot of velvet tread, 
 Thy pliant gown of fleecy fall, 
 
 Thy breath of silence round my bed — 
 These, save for l\ain, wei"e forfeit ,i]l ! 
 
200 FOLDED HANDS. 
 
 Alone l)y darkonini;- sIkuIos vvc know 
 The i;l()ry of tlie vanished ligiit; 
 
 The morning" glows with rieher glow, 
 Just loosened from the clasi-) of night. 
 
 O Rest, thou angel ])orn of jiain ! 
 
 O Night, that yieldeth day to bless! 
 O P'aith, with doubtings in thy train, 
 
 \\y raptured sight made ({uestionless ! 
 
 Thank God, it is not ours to choose 
 And idly hold what secmeth best; 
 
 The pain, the doubt, the dark refuse, 
 And miss the hallowed touch of rest. 
 
 MARY 1!. DODGE. 
 
 AFFLICTION. 
 
 As the harp-strings only render 
 
 All their treasures of sweet sound — 
 
 All their music, giail or teutlcr, 
 iMrmly struck ami lightly bound ; 
 
 So the hearts of Christians owe 
 Each its deepest, sweetest strain, 
 
 To the pressure firm of woe, 
 And the tension tight of ixiin. 
 
jj':si/s, //AW C()iV(J('/':a\ 
 
 Spices crushed llieir i)Uii;;ence yield ; 
 
 I'roddeii sceiUs their sweets res|)ir(!; 
 Would you h:i,v(^ ils strcuj^lh icvi-aled ? 
 
 Cast tin; iiu^eusc' in the lii-e ! 
 
 'I'hus lh(^ cnishcd :uid broken fnnnc 
 Oft dotii sweetest [graces yield ; 
 
 And throuidi su^flM■iu<,^ toil, .uul i)ain, 
 lieiivenly incense is (hstillcd. 
 
 yA'.SY/.S", lll'.l.r COMH'h'.R. 
 
 Ji'Sns, help confiiicr ! 
 
 My spii'it is siidvin,'/;, 
 Deep waters of soirow ;;o ovci" my head; 
 
 Wt'cpin;; and t icnihlinf/;, 
 
 And fc.'U ini;- and .shrini<i !)<■;, 
 I watch for the day, and nij^ht coniclh in.stead! 
 
 I'ittcr th(; cuj) 
 
 I am hourly (hinkinjj^ : 
 I low thorny the path that I homly tr(;ad ! 
 
 Jesus, help eonf|uer ! 
 h'or, fainting and weary, 
 Scarcely my hands can thcar weapons sustain ; 
 '\'\\(\ way seems so desolate, 
 rainful, and (heary, 
 
202 FOLDED HANDS, 
 
 1 low sliall I over Id lioavon .'illain ? 
 Josiis, <;roat Captain, 
 If ihoii l)c not near nu\ 
 
 ]i()\v shall 1 ever ihc victory <;ain ? 
 
 Josiis, lu^!]) ooiuiucr ! 
 lun th holds out her lino, 
 
 And mortal affections yearn after the prize ; 
 Scarcely my heart 
 Can the strut^gle endnre, 
 
 Scarce can 1 lift nj) my tear-l)nnded eyes. 
 Jesus, Jvcdeemer, 
 Thy ])romise is sure ; 
 
 Speak to my s])iri(, and ])id me arise. 
 
 Jesus, lielj) con{iuer ! 
 Tliere is not an iiour 
 
 (^f sorix)\v or joy but is ordei-ed by thee ; 
 Tliou dost cut down 
 Who liast planted the llowei- : 
 
 'J'enii^est or calm at thy bidding;- shall be. 
 Look on my sorrow, 
 And <2;ive me the power 
 
 Humbly to wait till thou comfortesl me. 
 
 Jesus, help concpier ! 
 Lord, turn not away ! 
 
TEARS. 203 
 
 Sec wilh what })Ovvcr llic l^illows increase ! 
 Give nic tliy Icjvc 
 Vox my comforl and slay, 
 
 Then shall my trembling- and murmuring cease, 
 Then shall my spirit 
 (jrow strong for the fray, 
 
 Then shall my weary heart rest in thy peace. 
 
 Jesus, help confpier ! 
 
 I cry unt(j lliee ! 
 Hardly my heart its i)etitions can frame; 
 
 All is so dark 
 
 And so painful to mc, 
 All I can utter sometimes is thy name. 
 
 Jesus, help conquer ! 
 
 My i)ortion now be, 
 Though all else should change, be thf)U ever the 
 same ! 
 
 • — ■ 
 
 TEARS. 
 
 Is it rainy, little flower? 
 Be glad (;f rain : 
 Too much sun w(ndd wither thcc ; 
 'T will shine again : 
 The clouds are very black, 't is true, 
 ]3ut just behind them shines the blue. 
 
204 I'Or.ni'in iianps. 
 
 Art llioii weary, tender licnrt? 
 I'e j^Uul of pain ; 
 In sorrow sweetest tliini^s will grow, 
 As lloweis in rain. 
 God watelies, and thou wilt have sun 
 When clouds tlieir j^erfect work have done. 
 
 MUS. M. V. lil/TIS. 
 
 4 
 
 JESUS IS MINE. 
 
 Pass away, earthly joy, 
 
 Jesus is mine ! 
 
 ]h"eak every mortal tie, 
 
 Jesus i.-* mine ! 
 
 Dark is the wilderness, 
 
 ])istant the restmg-placc ; 
 
 Jesus alone can bless ! 
 
 Jesus is mine ! 
 
 Temj)t not my soul away, 
 Jesus is mine ! 
 Here would I ever stay, 
 
 Jesus is mine ! 
 I'erishinL;' things of clay, 
 ]>oin but for one brief day, 
 Pass from my heart away ; 
 Jesus is mine I 
 
77/ A" JfAVI'lN 01' A' /'IS'/'. 205 
 
 l'';irc yc well, dreams of iii^lit, 
 
 Jc;.su.s is iiiiiic ! 
 Mine is .'I (lavviiiiij^^ bright, 
 
 Jesus is mine ! 
 All thai my scnil has tried 
 Left but a dismal void ; 
 Jesus has satisfied ; 
 
 Jesus is mine ! 
 
 l^'arewell, moiiality, 
 
 Jesus is mine ! 
 Welcome, eternily, 
 
 Jesus is mine; ! 
 Welcome a Saviour's breast, 
 Welcome, ye scenes of rest, 
 Welcome, ye mansions blest! 
 
 Jesus is mine ! 
 
 ■J///': //AV/'.N ()/'' /.'A'.V/-. 
 1 J()UKNI':y forth rejoicing 
 
 I^'rom this dark vale of tears, 
 To heavenly joy and freedom, 
 
 J^'rorn earthly bonds and fears, 
 Wiiere Christ our i.oid shall j^ather 
 
 All his redeemed aj;ain, 
 I lis kingdom to inherit : 
 
 (jood-ni-ht, till then! 
 
2o6 FOLDED JJANDS. 
 
 Go to thy quiet resting, 
 Poor tenement of clay ! 
 
 From all thy pain and weakness 
 I gladly haste away ; 
 
 But still in faith confidincf 
 To find thee yet again, 
 
 All glorious and immortal, 
 Good-night, till then ! 
 
 Why thus so sadly weeping. 
 Beloved ones of my heart ? 
 
 The Lord is good and gracious, 
 Though now he bids us part, 
 
 Oft have we met in gladness, 
 And we shall meet again. 
 
 All sorrow left behind us ; 
 
 Good-nigh I, till then! 
 
 I go to see His glory 
 
 Whom we have loved below ; 
 
 I go, the blessed angels, 
 The holy saints to know ; 
 
 Our lovely ones departed 
 I go to find again, 
 
 And wait for you to join us : 
 Good-nighl, till then ! 
 
TO-MORROW, 207 
 
 I hear the Saviour calHiif; — 
 
 The joyful hour has come; 
 Tlie angel guards are ready 
 
 To guide me to our home, 
 Where Christ tlie Lord shall gather 
 
 All his redeemed again, 
 ]Jis kingdom to inlierit : 
 
 Good-night, till then ! 
 
 'JV-MORROW. 
 I srr in the sunlight or shade of to-day; 
 
 The gladness or gloom I can see, 
 And smile that the morrow, come on as it may, 
 
 Is never revealed unto me. 
 If bright with the sparkle of beauty and bliss, 
 
 Not knowing each sweetness endears ; 
 If dark with a sorrow that chastens my peace, 
 
 It shows soon enougli for my tears. 
 
 I look down tlie ])at]iway of years tliat have fled, 
 
 And mark where the mercies are strown ; 
 I had walked with the living, and looked at the dead, 
 
 15ut for morrows that waited unknown ; 
 ] had wasted beforehand with loss and defeat, 
 
 h'or tlie spirit will falter and sink, 
 When a chaos of anguish rolls toward tlie feet, 
 
 And life presses on to the brink. 
 
2o8 FOLDED HANDS, 
 
 I glance up the vista of years that may be, 
 
 As heights that my weakness may climb, 
 And joy that its visions are darkened to me, 
 
 To be only revealed in their time. 
 As a book whose next page is safe folded and 
 sealed. 
 
 Till the lesson of this has been learned, 
 I pass to a morrow that is not revealed 
 
 Till the leaf of to-day has been turned. 
 
 I ask for no token. I wait as I must; 
 
 Thank God that my eyes are so dim ! 
 'T would rob this poor life of some sweetness of 
 trust 
 
 To look in the future with Him. 
 I 'd rather be blind with His word for repose — 
 
 "Thy strength as thy day shall unfold" — 
 Than see the great seals of His knowledge un- 
 close, 
 
 And the scroll of my future unrolled. 
 
 A RAVELLED raiubow overhead 
 Lets down to life its varying thread : 
 Love's blue, joy's gold, and fair between 
 Hope's shining rift of emerald green : 
 
PEACEABLE FRUIT— AFTERWARD. 209 
 
 And on each side, in deep relief, 
 A crimson pain, a violet grief ! 
 Wouldst thou, amid their gleaming hues. 
 Clutch after these, and those refuse ? 
 Believe, as thy beseeching eyes 
 Follow their lines, and sound the skies, 
 There, where the fadeless glories shine. 
 An unseen angel twists the twine ; 
 And be thou sure what tint soe'er, 
 The sunshine's broken rays may wear, 
 It needs them all, that broad and white 
 God's love may weave the perfect light ! 
 
 MRS. A. D. T. WHITNEY. 
 
 PEACEABLE FRUIT— AFTERWARD. 
 
 What shall thine "afterward" be, O Lord, 
 For this dark and suffering night } 
 
 Father, what shall thine " afterward " be ? 
 
 Hast thou a morning joy for me. 
 And a new and joyous light 1 
 
 What shall thine " afterward " be, O Lord, 
 
 For the moan that I cannot stay } 
 Wilt thou turn it to some new song of praise, 
 Sweeter than sorrowless heart could raise, 
 When the night hath passed away t 
 
 Folded HhikIb. 27 
 
o FOLDED HANDS. 
 
 What shall thine "afterward" be, O T.ord, 
 
 Forthis helplessness of pain ? 
 A elearer view of my home above, 
 Of my h\ilher's stren<;th and my Father's love ? 
 
 Shall this be my lastln<^- gain ? 
 
 What shall thine "afterward" be, O Lord, 
 How long must thy ehild endure ? 
 
 Thou knowest ! 'tis well that I know it not ! 
 
 Thine "afterward" cometh ; I cannot tell what, 
 Ikit I know that thy word is sure. 
 
 What shall thine "afterward" be, O Lord ? 
 
 I wonder and wait to see ; 
 While to thy chastening hand I bow, 
 That " peaceable fruit " may be ripening now, 
 
 Ripening fast for mc ! 
 
 THUS ONLY. 
 I siioiii.i) not dare, dear Lord, to say 
 I choose thy will o'er all my way ; 
 Yet would I dare or choose to pray, 
 Thus only, " Let thy will be done !" 
 
 Sometimes thy will is all so sweet, 
 I lay my choice down at thy feet, 
 Sufficed life's varied ills to meet, 
 Thus only, " Let thy will be done !" 
 
NOT KNOWING. 2 
 
 And then my will, grown bold and strong, 
 Forgets in some fresh stress of wrong 
 The cry that was both prayer and song— 
 Thus only, " Let thy will be done !" 
 
 Thou turn'st and look'st upon me; so 
 I grieve like Peter, while I go 
 And plead in sorrow's overflow, 
 
 Thus only, " Let thy will be done !" 
 
 I say, If this my will shall be, 
 Or if 't is not, still pleasing thee, 
 Carry my will and carry me. 
 
 Thus only, " Let thy will be done !" 
 
 Lead thou my steps ; my eyes are blind ; 
 Rule thou my moods, perverse or kind. 
 Thus I entreat with heart and mind ; 
 Thus only, '' Let thy will be done !" 
 
 E. L. E. 
 
 NOT KNOWING. 
 I KNOW not what shall befall me ; 
 
 God hangs a mist o'er my eyes. 
 And thus, each step of my onward path. 
 
 He makes new scenes to rise, 
 And every joy he sends me comes 
 
 As a sweet and glad surprise. 
 
212 FOLDED HAAWS. 
 
 I see not a step before me 
 As I tread on another year ; 
 
 But the past is in God's keeping, 
 The future his mercy shall clear, 
 
 And what looks dark in the distance 
 May brighten as I draw near. 
 
 For perhaps the dreaded future 
 Is less bitter than I think ; 
 
 The Lord may sweeten the waters 
 Before I stoop to drink ; 
 
 Or, if Marah must be Marah, 
 He will stand beside its brink. 
 
 It may be he keeps waiting 
 Till the coming of my feet 
 
 Some gift of such rare blessedness, 
 Some joy so strangely sweet, 
 
 That my lips shall only tremble 
 
 With the thanks they cannot speak. 
 
 Oh restful, blissful ignorance ! 
 
 'T is blessed not to know ; 
 It stills me in those mighty arms 
 
 Which will not let me go, 
 And hushes my soul to rest 
 
 On the bosom which loves me so. 
 
IN THE SHADOWS. 213 
 
 So I go on, not knowing; 
 
 I would not if I might ; 
 I would rather walk in the dark with God, 
 
 Than go alone in the light ; 
 I would rather walk with him by faith. 
 
 Than walk alone by sight. 
 
 My heart shrinks back from trials 
 Which the future may disclose ; 
 
 Yet I never had a sorrow 
 
 But what the dear Lord chose ; 
 
 So I send the coming tears back 
 
 With the whispered word, " He knows !" 
 
 MISS M. G. liRAINARD. 
 
 IN THE SHADOWS. 
 
 Oh lonely heart, 
 Among the gay and careless ones 
 Who pass thee by with gladsome tones, 
 
 Hast thou no part, 
 Except to breathe thy burdened sigh, 
 And lift thy plaintive prayer on high ? 
 
 The violet. 
 Which thou hast crushed beneath thy feet, 
 Still yieldeth up its incense sweet ; 
 
 And thou may'st yet 
 
2M FOLDED HANDS. 
 
 Find perfume in the desert air, 
 Though only blighted buds be there. 
 
 Then weave thee now, 
 Even amid earth's shaded bowers, 
 A garland of hope's blooming flowers ; 
 
 And on thy brow 
 Wear the fair wreath till it shall bear 
 Many a bright-hued blossom there. 
 
 Dost thou still yearn 
 For some heart-echo like thine own, 
 Some wandering note of gentle tone 
 
 Which thou may'st learn, 
 And tune to music's sweetest lay. 
 To chase thy spirit's grief away } 
 
 Then list to hear 
 The carols in life's holy psalm. 
 That fill the heart with heavenly calm. 
 
 And to thine ear 
 In soothing cadences shall bring 
 The notes that God's own angels sing. 
 
 And when life's done. 
 When sighs and tears come nevermore. 
 In raptured strains shalt thou adore 
 
 That Holy One 
 
yESUS, CONSOLATOR. 215 
 
 Who led thy oft desponding soul 
 Up where his glorious anthems roll. 
 
 ADA EVELYN. 
 
 JESUS, CONSOLATOR. 
 Jesus, when our hearts are aching, 
 
 And our burdens sorely press ; 
 Jesus, when our strength is breaking 
 
 Under life's long bitterness, 
 Who can comfort as we languish. 
 
 Weary with the constant strain, 
 Like the Lord, whom human anguish 
 
 Crushed beneath its weight of pain ? 
 
 Jesus, when the light is fading, 
 
 And the nightfall comes apace ; 
 When the clouds of gloom are shading 
 
 E'en the brightness of thy face ; 
 When we feel thee not beside us. 
 
 Though by all thy mercy blest. 
 Touch our eyes, in wisdom guide us. 
 
 Give us in thy love to rest. 
 
 Jesus, when the world-cares thronging 
 
 Fill our swiftly-passing days. 
 When thy sweetness we are wronging 
 
 With our faint, half-hearted praise, 
 
2i6 FOLDED JFANDS. 
 
 Oh, forgive; in soft compassion 
 Draw us to thyself once more ; 
 
 By the memory of thy passion 
 Chicle our coklness, we imi)lore. 
 
 Jesus, when our dear ones leave us, 
 
 ]5orne in angel arms to thee. 
 Let it not too deeply grieve us, 
 
 Since thy countenance they sec ; 
 Who from thee our souls shall sever, 
 
 What from thee our love divide ? 
 Thine to-day, and thine for ever, 
 
 Christ that liveth, Christ that died. 
 
 MRS. M. E. SANCSIKR. 
 
 LIFE'S LOT. 
 
 I KNOW not if the dark or bright 
 
 Shall be my lot ; 
 If tbat wherein my hopes delight 
 
 15e best or not. 
 
 It may be mine to drag for years 
 
 Toil's heavy chain ; 
 Or day or night my meat be tears 
 
 On bed of pain. 
 
TIIK LORD IS MY SlIIU'JIERD. 2 1 j 
 
 Dear faces may surround my lieartli, 
 
 Willi smiles and ^lee, 
 Or I may dwell alone, and mirth 
 
 I^c strange to me. 
 
 My bark is wafted to the strand 
 
 I^y breath divine, 
 And on the helm there rests a hand 
 
 Other than mine. 
 
 One who has known in storms to sail 
 
 I have on board ; 
 Above the ra|;in<; of the gale 
 
 T hear my Lord. 
 
 lie holds me with the billows' might: 
 
 I .shall not fall ; 
 If sharp, 't is sliort ; if long, 't is light ; 
 
 I fe tempers all. 
 Safe to the hmd — safe to the land : 
 
 'J'he end is this ; 
 And then with Jlini go hand in hand 
 
 Far into bliss. dkan oi' cantkuuijuy. 
 
 yy//'; /.ond js my siii'.riii'.Ri). 
 
 He is my .Slu^plierd, I his sheep : 
 
 T do not want to know 
 Whether the way be soft or steep 
 
 ])y which I am to go. 
 
 FolUcl llun,ltt. 28 
 
FOLDED HANDS. 
 
 If green and smooth the mountains be, 
 
 I need not ask for more ; 
 If stony, he will carry me, 
 
 As he has done before. 
 
 He is my Shepherd, I his sheep : 
 
 We travel onward still, 
 15y pools where water-lilies sleep. 
 
 By many a quiet hill ; 
 I feed in many a grassy dell, 
 
 I drink the waters clear ; 
 The gracious voice I know so well 
 
 Is music to my ear. 
 
 He is my Shepherd, I his sheep ; 
 
 I wandered once, I know ; 
 I heard him on the mountains weep 
 
 That I should leave him so. 
 I trembled as I faintly guessed, 
 
 A sorrow so divine, 
 For, as he clasped me to his breast, 
 
 The blood gushed forth on mine. 
 
 He is my Shepherd, I his sheep : 
 And what if death be near ? 
 
 The shadows up the valley creep, 
 And yet I do not fear ; 
 
THE LORD IS MY SIIEPI/ERD. 219 
 
 As closer to his side I cling, 
 
 I feel the cross so true, 
 With which his love was pledged to bring, 
 
 And safe has broucfht me throiii^h. 
 
 ■&• 
 
 He is my Shepherd, I his sheep : 
 
 We journey on and on ; 
 At last the smile upon his lips 
 
 Shall tell me all is won. 
 The table that he spreads for me 
 
 My foes shall all behold. 
 And in these trembling fingers see 
 
 His cup of royal gold. 
 
 The cup he put so gently by, 
 
 When death was drawing near, 
 He freely fills for such as I, 
 
 And tells me not to fear. 
 And for those funeral odors shed 
 
 Upon his dying brow, 
 He pours the oil of joy instead 
 
 On each disciple now. 
 
 Shepherd ! Good Shepherd ! turn and sec ! 
 
 I follow far behind ; 
 Thy voice of mercy calling me 
 
 Comes borne on every wind. 
 
FOLDED HANDS. 
 
 Set wide thy Father's open door 
 That I the hght may see, 
 
 And in his house for evermore 
 At last abide with thee. 
 
 A QUIET MIND. 
 "My peace I give unto you." John 14:27. 
 
 I HAVE a treasure which I prize ; 
 
 Its like I cannot find : 
 There's naught resembles it on earth, 
 
 'T is this — a quiet mind. 
 
 I found this treasure at the cross. 
 
 And there to every kind 
 Of weary, heavy-laden souls 
 
 Christ gives a quiet mind. 
 
 My Saviour's death and risen life 
 
 To give it were designed ; 
 His loves the never-failing spring, 
 
 Of this, my quiet mind. 
 
 The love of God within my breast. 
 My heart to Him doth bind ; 
 
 This is the peace of heaven on earth, 
 This is my quiet mind. 
 
THY WILL. 22 1 
 
 I 've many a cross to take up now, 
 
 And many left behind ; 
 But present troubles move me not, 
 
 Nor shake my quiet mind. 
 
 And what may be to-morrow's cross 
 
 I never seek to find ; 
 My Saviour says, "Leave that to me," 
 
 And keep my quiet mind. 
 
 And well I, know the Lord#hath said, 
 
 To make my heart resigned, 
 That mercy still shall follow those 
 
 Who have this quiet mind. 
 
 I'm waiting now to see my Lord, 
 
 Who's been to me so kind, 
 I want to thank Him face to face 
 
 For this my quiet mind. 
 
 THY WILL. 
 
 My God ! my Father ! while I stray 
 P'ar from my home on life's dull way. 
 Oh, teach me from my soul to say, 
 " Thy will be done." 
 
222 FOLDED HANDS. 
 
 If thou sbouldst call me to resign 
 What most I prize, yet ne'er was mine, 
 I only yield thee what was thine : 
 " Thy will be done." 
 
 Should pining- sickness take away 
 My life in premature decay, 
 Oh, help me from my soul to say, 
 "Thy will be done." 
 
 Renew my will from day to day ; 
 l^lend it with thine, and take away 
 All that now makes it hard to say, 
 " Thy will be done." 
 
 And when on earth I breathe no more 
 The prayer, oft mixed with tears before ; 
 I '11 sing upon a happier shore, 
 " Thy will be done." 
 
 HE A VEN. 
 
 On, to be there, 
 Where never tears of sorrow 
 Shall dim the eye, nor aching pain nor care 
 Shall overcloud our morrow ! 
 
 Oh, to be there ! 
 
LIGHT BEYOND. 223 
 
 O lovely home ! 
 Thy fragrant, thornlcss flowers 
 Droop not, nor die, but everlasting bloom 
 Crowns all thy golden hours ; 
 O lovely home ! 
 
 Oh, let me go ! 
 Death shall not there dissever 
 Our loving hearts. Rivers of pleasures flow 
 At God's right hand for ever: 
 Oh, let me go ! 
 
 For thou art there, 
 
 Who unto me hast given 
 
 Internal life, making me pure and fair; 
 
 And this to me is heaven. 
 
 For thou art there. 
 
 LIGHT BEYOND. 
 ]5kyond the stars that shine in golden glory. 
 
 Beyond the calm, sweet moon, 
 Up the bright ladder saints have trod before thee, 
 
 Soul, thou shalt venture soon. 
 Secure with Him who sees tliy heartsick yearning, 
 
 Safe in His arms of love, 
 Thou shalt exchange the midnight for the morning 
 
 And thy fair home above. 
 
2 24 FOLDED HANDS. 
 
 Oh it is sweet to watch the world's night wearing, 
 
 The Sabbath morn come on ; 
 And sweet it were the vineyard labor sharing — 
 
 Sweeter the labor done. 
 All finished ! all the conflict and the sorrow, 
 
 Earth's dream of anguish o'er ; 
 Deathless then dawns for thee a nightless morrow 
 
 On Eden's blissful shore. 
 
 Patience ! then patience ! soon the pang of dying 
 
 Shall all forgotten be, 
 And thou, through rolling spheres rejoicing, flying 
 
 Beyond the waveless sea, 
 Shalt knozv hereafter where thy Lord doth lead thee, 
 
 His darkest dealings trace; 
 And by those fountains where His love will feed thee 
 
 Behold Him face to face ! 
 
 " TILL HE come:' 
 
 " Till He come," oh ! let the words 
 Linger on the trembling chords ; 
 Let the little while between 
 In their golden light be seen ; 
 Let us think how heaven and home 
 Lie beyond that " Till He come." 
 
HIDDEN SPRINGS. 2 25 
 
 When the weary ones we love 
 Enter on their rest above, 
 Seems the earth so poor and vast ? 
 All our life-joy overcast ? 
 Hush ! be every murmur dumb, 
 It is only "Till He come." 
 
 Clouds and conflicts round us press ; 
 Would we have our sorrow less ? 
 All the sharpness of the cross, 
 All that tells the world is loss, 
 Death and darkness and the tomb, 
 Only whisper, " Till He come." 
 
 See the feast of love is spread. 
 Drink the wine and break the bread. 
 Sweet memorials till the Lord 
 Call us round His heavenly board : 
 Some from earth, from glory some, 
 Severed only " Till He come." 
 
 EDWARD H. BICKERSTETH. 
 
 HIDDEN SPRINGS. 
 
 'Mid the great desert desolate and bare 
 
 The lonely palm-tree stands. 
 His green head wrapped in summer's burning air, 
 
 His feet in swathing sands. 
 
 F..l,lo 1 Han Is. 29 
 
226 FOLDED HANDS. 
 
 No meadow-brook makes cool his weary feet, 
 
 His head no summer rains, 
 Nor nightly dew renews the nectar sweet, 
 
 Health in the fevered veins. 
 
 Yet strong and full the streams of life ascend 
 
 To every stem and blade. 
 And wayworn wanderers bless their desert friend 
 
 Beneath his bounteous shade. 
 
 For 'neath the burning sand in darkness deep 
 
 Dwells the fresh, cooling spring. 
 And from its rocky chambers silent creeps, 
 
 Perennial life to bring. 
 
 O soul of mine, aweary with the heat 
 
 And burden of the day, 
 Fevered with dreams of fountains cool and sweet 
 
 In valleys far away ; 
 
 Faint not, the river of the life of God 
 
 No drought nor failure knows ; 
 And 'neath the surface of each pilgrim road 
 
 A healing current flows. 
 
 Because He liveth, thou, O soul, shalt live ; 
 
 Thy life is hid with Him ; 
 He faintcth not, and from his strength will give 
 
 Power when Ihinc eye is dim. 
 
VINEYARD LABORERS. 227 
 
 Haply thy life, from unseen fountains flowing, 
 
 A blessing may be made. 
 And tender plants beneath thy shelter growing 
 
 May find a cooling shade. e. t. 
 
 VINEYARD LABORERS. 
 
 Toii-iNCi among the vines one day, 
 In the Master's vineyard sweet, 
 
 I saw my sister bow her liead 
 'Neath the burden and the heat. 
 
 She was not weary of working, 
 For she loved the Master well ; 
 
 And she thought of the blessed hour 
 When the shades of evening fell. 
 
 She portioned a task out bravely. 
 And thought " lie would have it so;' 
 
 Then the Master stood beside her. 
 And his voice was soft and low. 
 
 ** I have not need of thee to-day 
 In the vineyard so fair and sweet ;" 
 
 And she whispered low, " My Master ! 
 Let him do what scemeth meet." 
 
2:S FOLDED HANDS. 
 
 But her heart was sad and heavy, 
 As she left her work that day ; 
 
 She knew not where she was going, 
 Or aught of that untried way. 
 
 He led her forth to the desert, 
 And he spoke to her of rest ; 
 
 Then she smiled, and whispered gladly, 
 " O Master, thy way is best." 
 
 The burning blast of the desert 
 
 Made her quiver and start with pain ; 
 
 She looked in his face for comfort, 
 Nor shrank from that dreary plain. 
 
 I watch for my sister sadly ; 
 
 Will she come again to me ? 
 He hath said that where he dwelleth. 
 
 There shall his servant be. 
 
 Perhaps he will bring her, rested 
 And meet for some higher toil. 
 
 To work once more in the vineyard. 
 Or reap the fruit of the soil. 
 
 ])ut perhaps he will lead her onward. 
 
 To his glory and his rest ; 
 I know she will smile and whisper, 
 
 " Master, thy way is best !" 
 
WHAT IS PATIENCE?' 
 
 " WIIA T IS PA TIENCE .?" 
 
 229 
 
 A. little Scotch girl, on being asked by her Sabljalh-school 
 teacher, "What is patience?" replied, "Wait a wee, and dinna 
 weary." 
 
 " Wait a wee ;" poor heart, be still ; 
 Know it is thy Father's will ; 
 Throbbing, aching, doubting, weeping. 
 Safe within his care unsleeping, 
 Though the day dawn cold and dreary, 
 " Wait a wee, and dinna weary !" 
 
 " Wait a wee ;" though scarcely soon 
 Sunshine breaks in perfect noon ; 
 Hope may linger, clouds may hover 
 All the earthly landscape over ; 
 But though eve falls dim and tcary, 
 Wait for morn, and dinna weary ! 
 
 "Wait a wee ;" the patient God 
 Waits the slowly blooming sod ; 
 Waits the harvest from the flowering ; 
 Waits the year's most full maturing ; 
 Thou may'st through liis year be cheery, 
 Wait with God, and never weary ! 
 
 "Wait a wee;" though long it seems, 
 Measured by thy pains or dreams ; 
 
230 FOLDED HANDS. 
 
 Thou art but a mote of being 
 In the eye of the All-seeing ; 
 Though so weak, and sad, and dreary, 
 His is love that cannot weary. 
 
 Wait for (lod, his ways are sure ; 
 Sorrow shall not aye endure ; 
 Stands the promise still unshaken : 
 Thou shalt never be forsaken ; 
 Days will shine that are not dreary ; 
 Wait for God, and dinna weary. 
 
 E. L. E. 
 
 " NO T A S O UR IV A VS. " 
 Tni-: spring hath birds, however late, 
 
 And June must bring her roses 
 To faintest hearts, that trustful wait 
 
 For what God's love discloses. 
 
 We look along the shining ways 
 
 To see the angels' faces ; 
 They come to us in darkest days, 
 
 And in the bleakest places. 
 
 We learn our weakness of our pride, 
 Our strength from out our weakness ; 
 
 Sweet patience gives, for gifts denied, 
 The greater gift of meekness. 
 
*' IN HOPE 01< ETERNAL LIEET 23 
 
 The strongest hearts have strongest need ; 
 
 For them the fiery trial : 
 Who walks a sahit in word and deed 
 
 Is saint by self-denial. 
 
 We ask of God the sunniest way: 
 
 lie answers witli a sorrow; 
 We faint beneath the eross to-day, 
 
 We wear the crown to-morrow. 
 
 ''IN IIOPI': OF ET]':RNy\L UFJi." 
 
 " In hope of eternal life," O soul, 
 
 What matter is earth's despair ? 
 Its thorns of sorrow, its cross of pain. 
 
 Its burdens of crushing care ? 
 *' In hope of eternal life," we look 
 
 Up to the clear, blue heaven ; 
 Through tears that gather in mortal eyes 
 
 Immortal ken is given. 
 
 "In hope of eternal life," we bow 
 To the tempest that wild doth beat ; 
 
 The grand y> Dcuni of praise on high 
 Through its jiauscs sounds most sweet; 
 
232 FOLDED HANDS. 
 
 The voice that in echo to that strain 
 
 Sings faint through the storm and night, 
 
 Its compass of full angelic power 
 Shall find with I he morning light. 
 
 *' In hope of eternal life " serene, 
 
 No cloud hath a bolt to slay ; 
 No mists shall rise, but shall backward roll 
 
 At a gleam of that perfect day. 
 " In hope of eternal life," we walk 
 
 Through the shadowy vales of time ; 
 While the wings of the spirit ascend, and gain 
 
 The eternal heights sublime, 
 
 Where we shall stand, when the mystic touch 
 
 Of death anoints the eye; 
 And earth with her cloudy atmosphere 
 
 Like a dream of the night fleets by ; 
 It is but the shade create of God 
 
 To show heaven's wondrous light ; 
 That day its perfectness doth win 
 
 From these brief hours of nioht. 
 
 •£>• 
 
 " In hope of eternal life," O soul, 
 With thy weak mortality now, 
 
 Be patient, nor chafe against its bars ; 
 To its fetters in meekness bow ; 
 
THE CROSS IN THE PLAN. 233 
 
 For the glorious freedom that shiiU come, 
 
 Content thee now to be bound, 
 Till the Master's hand strike off thy chains, 
 
 And thy feet touch heavenly ground. 
 
 KATE MONTGOMERY. 
 
 THE CROSS IN THE PLAN 
 I HEARD of a quaint old story 
 
 In a far away Eastern land, 
 Of a mosque of Mohammed that rises 
 
 Not far from the sloping strand. 
 
 There, bowed in his chains, lay a captive, 
 Who had come from a northern town, 
 
 Where the sun that runs low in the winter 
 Shines cold on the frozen ground. 
 
 Rare powers he had at building : 
 For the forest, so grand and wild, 
 
 He could shape again in the marble, 
 Trunk, foliage, arch, and aisle. 
 
 They offered the slave his freedom, 
 With a pass to the Northern land. 
 
 If a mosque to Mohammed he builded 
 To tower above the strand. 
 30 
 
234 FOLDED HANDS. 
 
 He planned in the stone right grandly, 
 And he wrought for his life — that man ! 
 
 But they saw in the beautiful outline 
 The cross he had dared to plan. 
 
 They mockingly gave the ransom : 
 Out of fetters his soul was sent, 
 
 From the land of this fiery summer ; 
 But death was the way he went. 
 
 He left for us all a lesson : 
 
 To whatever you put your hand. 
 
 Be it bearing, or doing, or waiting, 
 The CROSS — let it mark the plan. 
 
 In patient endurance be Christ-like, 
 In your trials, and pains, and loss. 
 
 That all who look at your living, 
 May see in your life the Cross. 
 
 EDWARD BOND. 
 
 PA TIENCE. 
 Oh, not in hopeless calm of grief 
 
 The heart of nature lies ; 
 She knows by signs of sky and leaf 
 
 How soon her dead shall rise. 
 
PATIENCE. 235 
 
 With prophet-heart she antedates 
 
 The perfect days of Spring : 
 " Faith worketh patience," and she waits 
 
 The bounty they shall bring. 
 
 Oh, wiser are her birds and flowers, 
 
 And braver far than I ; 
 1 find no song to cheer the hours 
 
 That roll so slowly by. 
 
 With smile that checks the rising sigh, 
 With heavenward-reaching hands, 
 
 Hope's anchor, and Faith's lifted eye, 
 The angel. Patience, stands. 
 
 Her gift is not a bitter calm — 
 
 No stillness of despair ; 
 The last kind angel with the palm 
 
 Could scarcely be more fair. 
 
 " Wait, wait," she says, *' God's Spring is sure 
 To come with leaves and flowers : 
 
 He.gives the glad For evermore 
 For these few trial-hours." 
 
 Oh, joyfully my time I wait ; 
 
 My feet this path shall tread, 
 As if within the Golden Gate 
 
 By shining angels led. 
 
236 FOLDED HANDS. 
 
 Oh, hopefully my heart shall beat, 
 As cheerful songs to raise. 
 
 As where the thousand thousand meet 
 In willing work of praise ! 
 
 Not in dumb silence to endure — 
 
 I ask a gladder part, 
 I know my patience standeth sure 
 
 While hope is in my heart. 
 
 Oh, give me with the birds to sing 
 
 Above all fear and doubt. 
 My heart shall keep its fadeless Spring, 
 
 Though Winter rage without. 
 
 CARL SPENCER. 
 
 ''NOT MY WILL, BUT THINE:' 
 
 Laid on thine altar, O my Lord divine, 
 
 Accept my gift this day for Jesus' sake ; 
 I have no jewels to adorn thy shrine. 
 
 Nor any world-famed sacrifice to make. 
 But here I bring within my trembling hand 
 
 This will of mine, a thing that seemeth small 
 But only thou, dear Lord, canst understand 
 
 How, when I yield thee this, I yield my all. 
 
''WHEN THE SONG 'S GONE." 237 
 
 Hidden therein, thy searching eye can see 
 
 Struggles of passion, visions of deUght, 
 All that I love, or am, or fain would be. 
 
 Deep love, fond hopes, and longings infinite. 
 It hath been wet with tears and dimmed with sighs. 
 
 Clenched in my grasp till beauty it had none. 
 Now from thy footstool, where it vanquished lies, 
 
 Its prayer ascendeth, " Let thy will be done." 
 
 Take it, O Father, ere my courage fail. 
 
 And merge it so in ihine own will that e'en 
 If in some desperate hour my cry prevail, 
 
 And thou give back my gift, it may have been 
 So changed, so purified, so fair have grown. 
 
 So one with thee, so filled with peace divine, 
 I may not keep or feel it as mine own. 
 
 But gaining back my will, may find it thine. 
 
 " when the song 's gone out of your 
 life:' 
 
 " When the song 's gone out of your life, you can't start anoth- 
 er while it's a-ringing in your ears; but it's best to have a bit of 
 silence, and out of that maybe a psalm '11 come by-and-by." 
 
 EDWARD GARRETT. 
 
 When the song's gone out of your life, 
 That you thought would last to the end. 
 
 That first sweet song of the heart, 
 That no after days can lend — 
 
2^.8 FOLDED HANDS. 
 
 The song of the birds to the trees, 
 The song of the wind to the flowers, 
 
 The song that the heart sings low to itself, 
 When it wakes in life's morning hours. 
 
 You can start no other song, 
 
 Not even a tremulous note 
 Will falter forth on the empty air ; 
 
 It dies in your aching throat. 
 It is all in vain that you try, 
 
 For the spirit of song has fled ; 
 The nightingale sings no more to the rose 
 
 When the beautiful flower is dead. 
 
 So let silence softly fall 
 
 On the bruised heart's quivering strings ; 
 Perhaps from the loss of all you may learn 
 
 The song that the seraph sings : 
 A grand and glorious psalm, 
 
 That will tremble and rise and thrill, 
 And fill your breast with its grateful rest. 
 
 And its lonely yearning still. • 
 
 A FIRST SORROW. 
 Arise ! this day shall shine. 
 
 For evermore. 
 To thee a star divine 
 
 On time's dark shore. 
 
A FIRST SORROV/. 239 
 
 Till now thy soul hath been 
 
 All glad and gay ; 
 Bid it awake, and look 
 
 At grief to-day ! 
 
 No shade has come between 
 
 Thee and the sun : 
 Like some long childish dream 
 
 Thy life has run. 
 
 But now the stream has reached 
 
 A dark dim sea, 
 And sorrow dim and crowned 
 
 Is waiting thee. 
 
 Each of God's soldiers bears 
 
 A sword divine ; 
 Stretch out thy trembling hands 
 
 To-day for thine ! 
 
 To each anointed priest 
 
 The summons came ; 
 O soul. He speaks to-day, 
 
 And calls thy name. 
 
 Then with slow reverent step 
 
 And beating heart, 
 From out thy joyous days 
 
 Thou must depart ; 
 
240 FOLDED HANDS. 
 
 And, leaving all behind, 
 
 Come forth alone, 
 To join the chosen band 
 
 Around the throne. 
 
 Rise up thine eyes — be strong, 
 
 Nor cast away 
 The crown that God has given 
 
 Thy soul to-day ! 
 
 ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTER. 
 
 THANKS FOR PAIN 
 O LOVELY legend of the song, 
 
 Death-taught unto the silent swan, 
 Of silvery mystery breaking forth 
 
 From virgin throat at blush of dawn. 
 
 Yet rarer far than this the tones 
 
 From that strange lyre best strung by pain, 
 Men call the soul, when one dread hand 
 
 Strikes chords that long have waiting lain. 
 
 Some souls, high-strung and all untried. 
 It smiteth strongly for their good : 
 
 Not till the artist's theme is played, 
 Is all the context understood ! 
 
THE THORN AND THE CROSS. 24 r 
 
 On its last notes shall soar the soul ; 
 
 So perfectness shall come at last. 
 How sweet that close is I shall know, 
 
 When these sharp strains are overpast. 
 
 HOWARD GLYNDON. 
 
 THE THORN AND THE CROSS. 
 2 Cor. 12:7. Luke 14 : 27. 
 
 The thorn is very sharp, O righteous Master ! 
 
 The flesh is weak, 
 And drops of blood and blinding tears fall faster 
 
 Than I can speak ! 
 Ah ! deeply in my bosom it is driven 
 
 To rend and tear ; 
 Pierced by the rugged cross that thou hast given 
 
 For us to bear. 
 
 I could endure the thorn, though fiercely galling, 
 
 If that were all : 
 Or bear the cross without a fear of falling. 
 
 Yea, count it small. 
 If I could only bear it on my shoulder. 
 
 And not my breast, 
 Where goads the thorn ; my heart would then grow 
 bolder. 
 
 Blest with such rest. 
 
 Folded Hands. 31 
 
242 FOLDED HANDS. 
 
 I had borne either, singly ; both united 
 
 Have vanquished me ! 
 I prostrate lie, oppressed, distressed, benighted, 
 
 And cry to Thee ! 
 O Jesus ! place thy hand beneath the burden 
 
 A little while : 
 Or soothe the wound by that all-healing guerdon, 
 
 A Saviour's smile. 
 
 He comes — he lifts — he soothes ! A little longer, 
 
 I plod my way, 
 His gracious strength has made my sad soul stronger. 
 
 To last the day. 
 But cross and thorn will tempt until the closing 
 
 Of mortal life ; 
 And I shall show, although in heaven reposing, 
 
 The scars of strife. 
 
 SIMEON TUCKER CLARK. 
 
 OUR HIGH PRIEST. 
 Heb. 4: 15. 
 
 '' Touched with the feeling of our need !' 
 My sad eyes weep for joy indeed : 
 For else, in all this round of pain, 
 How could they look on joy again } 
 
OUR HIGH PRIEST. 243 
 
 Sad and cast down : O great High Priest, 
 Thou feelest what I feel the least ; 
 And how much more this sore distress 
 That yearns so for thy tenderness. 
 
 As once of old thy gracious touch 
 Was laid for healing upon such, 
 So let me nearer press like them. 
 And reach and kiss thy garment's hem. 
 
 I am so sick — oh, let me feel 
 One moment thy sweet will to heal ; 
 I am so tired — oh let me rest 
 Childlike upon thy loving breast. 
 
 My heart is bruised with sorrow : see, 
 O Christ, how deep its wound may be ; 
 Its want no other good can fill. 
 Its cry no other voice may still. 
 
 For Thou all human griefs hast known, 
 Hast trod earth's weariest paths alone : 
 Hast loved and wept — by love denied. 
 And for thy love been crucified. 
 
 Made perfect in thine office so. 
 By each temptation, every woe 
 Thou art thyself of pain the balm. 
 And to the waves of sorrow calm. 
 
244 FOLDED HANDS. 
 
 Touched with the feehng of my need, 
 
 O Saviour, be my priest indeed ! 
 
 Come near, while Hfe grows dim and still, 
 
 And show thyself the healer still. e. l. e. 
 
 The best will is our Father's will. 
 And we may rest there, calm and still : 
 O make it hour by hour thine own, 
 And wish for naught but that alone 
 
 Which pleases God. gerhardt. 
 
 THE PROMISES. 
 
 Oh, golden lamps that God doth pitying loan us. 
 Whence streams the light that guides us on our 
 way; 
 
 To catch the wandering eye, to suit the dim ones. 
 See how his love doth differing tinge the ray. 
 
 Hear, "As your day your strength shall be!" ye 
 timid. 
 Shrinking from what the future years may bring; 
 When gathering shades of care and grief appall 
 you, 
 Its reassuring ray this lamp shall fling. 
 
THE PROMISES. 245 
 
 " They shall mount up as eagles !" O ye weary, 
 Drooping, and fainting with so low a flight, 
 
 And lost 'mid clouds, see here what glory shineth ; 
 Ye yet shall reach those heavens hid from sight. 
 
 "I will send Him — the Comforter!" Come, throng- 
 ing mourners, 
 
 And stand in the full beams of Bethlehem's star; 
 And ah, how thin the shadows grow beneath them, 
 
 Until the morning seemeth not so far. 
 
 " Lo, I am with you alvvay !" List, ye lone ones, 
 Whose cross is very heavy to be borne ; 
 
 Who stretch your bleeding hands for hands to bind 
 them, 
 And cry in vain for love to draw the thorn. 
 
 How love doth draw it — Father's love and Brother's, 
 Love of the Friend who wept at Mary's side ; 
 
 Take up the burden which He lifteth with you, 
 Behold! no more the 'companying angels hide. 
 
 He doth not light us sparely in the darkness, 
 Nor at long distances his lamps hang out; 
 
 He is a Father, watchful for his children. 
 
 He would not have them grope 'mid snares al^out. 
 
246 FOLDED HANDS. 
 
 These flashing stars lie thick — a rich mosaic 
 Along his word, where whoso seeks may find ; 
 
 Ah, " seek and ye shall find ;" this central promise 
 In shining zodiac all the rest doth bind. 
 
 KATE MONTGOMERY. 
 
 SORROW A FRIEND. 
 
 Do not cheat thy heart, and tell her 
 
 " Grief will pass away ; 
 Hope for fairer times in future, 
 
 And forget to-day." 
 Tell her, if you will, that sorrow 
 
 Need not come in vain : 
 Tell her that the lesson taught her 
 
 Far outweighs the pain. 
 
 Cheat her not with the old comfort, 
 
 " Soon you will forget ;" 
 For a lesson quick forgotten 
 
 Is a sad regret : 
 Bid her not, " Seek other pleasures. 
 
 Turn to other things ;" 
 Rather nurse her cag6d sorrow 
 
 Till the captive sings. 
 
jv/s/': wFj'.rixc. 247 
 
 Rather bid her look up bnivcly, 
 
 y\ud the stranger greet, 
 Not as foe, with spear and l)iickler, 
 
 But as dear friends meet 
 Bid her with a strong elasp hold her 
 
 By her dusky wings. 
 Listening for the murmured blessings 
 
 Sorrow always brings. 
 
 ADICI.AIDK ANNK PKOCri'.K. 
 
 WISE WEKPING. 
 Tears are not always fruitful ; their hot drops 
 
 Sometimes but scorch the cheek and dim the eye : 
 Despairing murmurs over blackened hopes, 
 
 Not the meek spirit's calm and chastened cry. 
 
 Oh, better not to weep than weep amiss. 
 For hard it is to learn to weep aright— 
 
 To weep wise tears, the tears which heal and bless, 
 The tears which their own bitterness requite. 
 
 Oh, better not to weep than waste our woe : 
 To fling away the spirit's finest gold ; 
 
 To lose, not gain, by sorrow ; to o'erflow 
 
 The sacred channels which true sadness hold. 
 
248 FOLDED HANDS. 
 
 To shed our tears as trees their blossoms shed, 
 Not all at random, but to make sure way 
 
 For fruit in season, when the bloom lies dead 
 On the chill earth, the victim of decay ; 
 
 This is to use the grief that God has sent. 
 To read the lesson, and to learn the love. 
 
 To sound the depths of saddest chastisement, 
 To pluck on earth the fruit of realms above. 
 
 Weep not too fondly, lest the cherished grief 
 Should into vain self-pitying weakness turn ; 
 
 Weep not too long, but seek divine relief ; 
 
 Weep not too fiercely, lest the fierceness burn. 
 
 Husband your tears ; if lavished, they become 
 Like waters that inundate and destroy. 
 
 For active, self-denying days leave room. 
 So shall you sow in tears, and reap in joy. 
 
 It is not tears but teaching we should seek ; 
 
 The tears we need are genial as the shower ; 
 They mould the being while they stain the check, 
 
 Freshening the spirit into life and power. 
 
 Move on, and murmur not ; a warrior thou ; 
 
 Is this a day for idle tears and sighs t 
 Buckle thine armor, grasp thy sword and bow. 
 
 Fight the good fight of faith, and win the prize. 
 
 BONAR. 
 
/•VA7AV. 249 
 
 JiiRi):, 
 
 PRISONICI) birds, tlii()U.i;li bars (juick glaiuinj^-, 
 
 Long to soar and sing, 
 Chirpinf; softly to each other, 
 
 riiimage flutterhig. 
 
 But in vain ; their wings are growing, 
 And their power of song ; 
 
 Some time they shall burst their prison- 
 May it be ere long! 
 
 Yonder in the " singing country " 
 
 Songs are sung at will ; 
 Wait ! your notes will be the sweeter ; 
 
 Little birds, be still ! 
 
 Siloa's bi-ook in lonely silence 
 
 Mows a darksome way, 
 Yet at last it gushes upward 
 
 To the light of day. 
 
 Peter, sleeping, bound witli fetters, 
 
 Dreamed not of his fliglit, 
 Till upon his heavy eyelids 
 
 Shone a sweet strange light. 
 
 FoMc.l llaii.lM. IJ2 
 
250 FOLDED HANDS. 
 
 Chains fell off, rough doors slid open, 
 
 Free as light was he, 
 For an angel voice had spoken : 
 
 " Rise and follow me !" 
 
 Sleep serene, profound and restful, 
 
 Soon shall fall on me ; 
 Dearer lips than angels' utter : 
 
 " Rise and follow Me !" 
 
 Prisoned birds shall then, exultant, 
 Plume their joyful wing ; 
 
 In their first, full, perfect freedom. 
 My caged birds shall sing. 
 
 ''HE GIVETH SONGS I A' THE NIGHT:' 
 
 We praise Thee oft for hours of bliss, 
 
 For days of quiet rest ; 
 But oh, how seldom do we feel 
 
 That pain and tears are best ! 
 
 We praise Thee for the shining sun, 
 For kind and gladsome ways : 
 
 When shall we learn, O Lord, to sing- 
 Through weary nights and days ! 
 
"//TT GIVETH SONGS hY 'J71R NIC irrr 251 
 
 Arc there no hours of conllicl fierce, 
 
 No weary toils and panis, 
 No watchings, and no bitterness, 
 
 That bring- their blessed gains? 
 
 That bring their blessrd gains full well, 
 
 In truer faith and love, 
 And patience sweet, and gentleness, 
 
 From our dear home above ? 
 
 Teach tliou our weak and wandering hearts 
 
 Aright to read tliy way — 
 That thou with loving hand dost trace 
 
 Our history every day. 
 
 Then every thorny crown of care 
 
 Worn well in patience now, 
 Shall grow a glorious diadem 
 
 Upon the faithful brow; 
 
 And every word of grief shall change, 
 
 A nil wave, a blessed flower. 
 And lift its face beneath our feet 
 
 To bless us every hour. 
 
 And sorrow's face shall be unveiled, 
 
 And we at last shall see 
 Her eyes arc eyes of tenderness, 
 
 Jler speech but ecliocs Thee! 
 
252 FOLDED HANDS. 
 
 ONLY WAITING. 
 Only waiting till the shadows 
 
 Are a little longer grown ; 
 Only waiting till the glimmer 
 
 Of the last day's beam is flown ; 
 Till the night of earth is faded 
 
 From the heart once full of day, 
 Till the stars of heaven are breaking 
 
 Through the twilight soft and gray. 
 
 Only waiting till the reapers 
 
 Have the last sheaf gathered home, 
 For the summer-time is faded, 
 
 And the autumn winds have come. 
 Quickly ! reapers, gather quickly 
 
 The last ripe hours of my heart. 
 For the bloom of life is withered, 
 
 And I hasten to depart. 
 
 Only waiting till the angels 
 
 Open wide the mystic gate. 
 At whose feet I long have lingered, 
 
 Weary, poor, and desolate. 
 Even now I hear their footsteps, 
 
 And their voices, far away; 
 If they call mc, I am waiting. 
 
 Only waiting to obey ; 
 
SINGING IN THE RAIN 253 
 
 Only waiting till the shadows 
 
 Arc a little longer grown, 
 Only waiting till the glimmer 
 
 Of the day's last gleam is flown. 
 Then from out the gathering darkness 
 
 Holy, deathless stars shall rise, 
 ]5y whose light my soul shall gladly 
 
 Tread its pathway to the skies. 
 - — ♦ — 
 SINGING IN THE RAIN 
 
 Mv window opened where the noon 
 
 Was dim with clouds of gray. 
 While chill and storm conspired to mcike 
 
 A wintry April day. 
 My heart was sad till from- without 
 
 I heard a joyous strain ; 
 A sparrow on a leafless bough 
 
 Sat singing in the rain. 
 
 " O bird of summer voice," I cried, 
 
 " What moves thy heart to sing T' 
 " I feel so sure," the song replied, 
 
 " The coming of the spring ; 
 For though to-day the skies may lower, 
 
 The promise is not vain ; 
 So, safe, I in my Maker's care 
 
 Sit singing in the rain ! ' 
 
254 FOLDED HANDS. 
 
 " Sweet bird, with faith and hope and praise, 
 
 Ere winter storms depart, 
 Oh teach the secret of thy trust 
 
 To one poor human heart." 
 " My Maker's love is more than spring ; 
 
 It will not fail or wane. 
 So, safe, I with unsheltered wing 
 
 Sit singing in the rain !" 
 
 The sparrow shamed my faithless heart ; 
 
 My lips no more are dumb ; 
 I see when clouds and sorrows part, 
 
 The spring eternal come ; 
 I feel the thrill of life and joy. 
 
 Despite the chill and pain. 
 And, sheltered in my Maker's love. 
 
 Sit singing in the rain. 
 
 AS THOU WILT! 
 
 Even so, O Father ! 
 
 Though my heart is bleeding, 
 On the anvil keep me 
 
 While its lessons needing, 
 Till I 'm fitted thus to fill 
 The place assigned me by thy will. 
 
A CHANT. 255 
 
 Even so, O Father ! 
 
 As silver when 'tis tried, 
 From every earthly stain 
 May I be purified ; 
 So that, reflected, all may see 
 Thine image, Lord, enstamped on me. 
 
 Even so, O Father ! 
 
 Though sinks my heart with fear, 
 The trial I '11 endure 
 
 If thou, dear Christ, art near. 
 For, " As thy day thy strength shall be," 
 Is promised even unto me. 
 
 S. JENNIE LEACH. 
 
 A CHANT. 
 "Benedictus qui venit in nomine Domini." 
 
 Who is the angel that cometh } 
 
 Life! 
 Let us not question what he brings. 
 
 Peace or strife ; 
 Under the shade of his mighty wings, 
 
 One by one 
 
 Are his secrets told ; 
 
 One by one, 
 Lit by the rays of each morning sun, 
 Shall a new flower its petals unfold, 
 
256 FOLDED HANDS. 
 
 With the mystery hid in its heart of gold. 
 We will arise and go forth and meet him, 
 Singing gladly, with one accord, 
 
 "Blessed is he that cometh 
 
 In the name of the Lord !" 
 
 Who is the angel that cometh ? 
 
 Joy! 
 Look at his glittering rainbow wings ; 
 
 No alloy 
 Lies in the radiant gifts he brings. 
 
 Tender and sweet 
 
 He is come to-day, 
 
 Tender and sweet, 
 While chains of love on his silver feet 
 Will hold him in lingering, fond delay ; 
 But greet him quickly, he will not stay ; 
 Soon he will leave us ; but though for others 
 All his brightest treasures are stored, 
 " Blessed is he that cometh 
 In the name of the Lord !" 
 
 Who is the angel that cometh ? 
 
 Pain ! 
 
 Let us arise and go forth to greet him 
 
 Not in vain 
 Is the summons come for us to meet him. 
 
A CHANT. 2S7 
 
 He will stay 
 
 And darken our sun ; 
 
 He will stay 
 A desolate night, a weary day. 
 Since in that shadow our work is done, 
 And in that shadow our crowns are won, 
 Let us say still, while his bitter chalice 
 Slowly into our hearts is poured, 
 " Blessed is he that cometh 
 In the name of the Lord." 
 
 Who is the angel that cometh ? 
 
 Death ! 
 But do not shudder, and do not fear, 
 
 Hold your breath. 
 For a kingly presence is drawing near. 
 
 Cold and bright 
 
 Is his flashing steel ; 
 
 Cold and bright 
 The smile that comes like a starry light 
 To calm the terror and grief we feel. 
 He comes to help and to save and heal : 
 Then let us, baring our hearts and kneeling, 
 Sing, while we wait this angel's sword, 
 " IMessed is he that cometh 
 In the name of the Lord !" 
 
 ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTER. 
 1.(1 Han iB. 33 
 
258 FOLDED HANDS. 
 
 THANKFULNESS, 
 My God, I thank thee, who hast made 
 
 This earth so bright, 
 So full of splendor and of joy, 
 
 Beauty, and light : 
 So many glorious things are here. 
 
 Noble and right ! 
 
 I thank thee, too, that thou hast made 
 
 Joy to abound : 
 So many gentle thoughts and deeds 
 
 Circling us round. 
 That in the darkest spot of earth 
 
 Some love is found. 
 
 I thank thee more that all our joy 
 Is touched with pain. 
 
 That shadows fall on brightest hours. 
 That thorns remain ; 
 
 So that earth's bliss may be our guide. 
 And not our chain 
 
 For thou who knowest. Lord, how soon 
 Our weak heart clings. 
 
 Hast given us joys tender and true, 
 Yet all with wings, 
 
 So that we see, gleaming on high. 
 Diviner things. 
 
DE PROFUNDIS, 259 
 
 I thank thee, Lord, that thou hast kept 
 
 The best in store : 
 We have enough, yet not too much 
 
 To loncf for more, 
 A yearning for a deeper peace 
 
 Not known before. 
 
 I thank thee, Lord, that here our souls, 
 
 Though amply blest. 
 Can never find, although they seek, 
 
 A perfect rest, 
 Nor ever shall, until they lean 
 
 On Jesus' breast. 
 
 DE PROFUNDIS. 
 
 V ^ 'F 't^ 'f* 
 
 By anguish which made pale the sun, 
 I hear Him charge his saints that none 
 Among his creatures anywhere 
 Blaspheme against him with despair, 
 However darkly days go on. 
 
 Take from my head the thorn-wreath brown. 
 No mortal grief deserves that crown. 
 
 O supreme love, chief misery. 
 
 The sharp regalia are for Theey 
 Whose days eternally go on ! 
 
26o FOLDED HANDS. 
 
 For us, whatever's undergone, 
 Thou knowest, wiliest what is done. 
 
 Grief may be joy misunderstood; 
 
 Only the Good discerns the good. 
 I trust thee while my days go on. 
 
 Whatever's lost, it first was won ! 
 We will not struggle nor impugn. 
 
 Perhaps the cup was broken here. 
 
 That heaven's new wine might seem more clear ; 
 I praise thee while my days go on. 
 
 I praise thee while my days go on, 
 I love thee while my days go on ! 
 
 Through dark and dearth, through fire and frost, 
 With emptied arms and treasures lost, 
 
 I thank thee while my days go on ! 
 
 And having in thy life-depth thrown 
 Being and suffering, (which are one,) 
 As a child drops some pebble small 
 Down some deep well and hears it fall 
 Smiling .... So I ! thy days go on ! 
 
 ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING. 
 
 When over dizzy heights we go, 
 One soft hand blinds our eyes ; 
 
 The other leads us firm and slow, 
 Oh love of God most wise ! 
 
USE ME. 261 
 
 Nothing before, nothing behind, 
 
 The steps of faith 
 Fall on the seeming void, and find 
 
 The rock beneath ! 
 
 USE ME. 
 
 Make use of me, my God ! 
 
 Let me not be forgot, 
 A broken vessel cast aside — 
 
 One whom thou needest not. 
 
 I am thy creature. Lord, 
 And made by hands divine ; 
 
 And I am part, however mean. 
 Of this great world of thine. 
 
 Thou usest all thy works. 
 The weakest things that be ; 
 
 Each has a service of his own. 
 For all things wait on thee. 
 
 Thou usest the high stars. 
 The tiny drops of dew, 
 
 The giant peak, the little hill — 
 My God ! oh use me, too ! 
 
262 FOLDED HANDS. 
 
 Thou usest tree and flower, 
 The rivers, vast and small, 
 
 The eagle great, the little bird 
 That sings upon the wall. 
 
 Thou usest the wide sea, 
 
 The little, hidden lake. 
 The pine upon the Alpine cliff. 
 
 The lily in the brake, 
 
 The huge rock in the vale. 
 The sand-grain by the sea, 
 
 The thunder of the rolling cloud. 
 The murmur of the lea. 
 
 All things do serve thee here. 
 All creatures, great and small : 
 
 Make use of me, my God, 
 The weakest of them all ! 
 
 150NAR. 
 
 PRAYER FOR STRENGTH. 
 
 Oh thou, the living God, we come to thee ! 
 
 Our earthly bowers have crumbled to decay 
 The burning desert stretches to the sea. 
 
 Without a shade across our weary way. 
 
PRAYER FOR STRENGTH. 263 
 
 The pleasant pictures of life's morn are fled, 
 
 Childhood's fond visions, bright with April bloom, 
 
 And hushed for aye amid the peaceful dead 
 Are tones that echo from an early tomb. 
 
 Our spirits shrink before the length'ning road 
 Leading from sunrise to the western gate ; 
 
 Strength, O our Father ! strength to bear the load 
 Thy wisdom lays upon our earthly state. 
 
 Yet not alone when earthly joys are dim, 
 And earthly bowers crumble to decay. 
 
 Would we, our Father, raise to thee our hymn. 
 And ask thy blessing on our exile-way. 
 
 That exile-way, with warm and radiant beam. 
 Lit by thy smile of heavenly love, may glow ; 
 
 Let not our eyes be blinded by the gleam 
 That lends to life its transitory show. 
 
 And when to thy blest house of peace and rest 
 Our trembling souls shall wing their joyful flight. 
 
 Oh, fold us closely to thy sheltering breast. 
 For ever safe in thy unclouded light ! 
 
 MARIANA B. 
 
264 FOLDED HANDS. 
 
 ONE STEP MORE. 
 
 What though before me it is dark, 
 
 Too dark for me to see, 
 I ask but light for one step more, 
 
 'T is quite enough for me. 
 
 Each little humble step I take, 
 The gloom clears from the next, 
 
 But though 't is very dark beyond, 
 I never am perplexed. 
 
 And if sometimes the mist hangs close, 
 
 So close I fear to stray, 
 Patient I wait a little while, 
 
 And soon it clears away. 
 
 I would not see my future path. 
 
 For mercy veils it so ; 
 My present steps might harder be 
 
 Did I the future know. 
 
 It may be that my path is rough, 
 Thorny and hard and steep ; 
 
 And knowing this, my strength might fail. 
 Through fear and terror deep. 
 
INWARD PEACE. 265 
 
 Perhaps my path is very short, 
 
 My journey nearly done, 
 And I might tremble at the thought 
 
 Of ending it so soon. 
 
 Or, if I saw a weary length 
 
 Of road that I must wend. 
 Fainting, I 'd think, " My feeble powers 
 
 Will fail me ere the end." 
 
 And so I do not wish to see 
 
 My journey, or its length, 
 Assured that, through my Father's love, 
 
 Each step will bring its strength. 
 
 Thus step by step I onward go. 
 
 Not looking far before. 
 Trusting that I shall always have 
 
 Light for just "one step more." 
 
 INWARD PEACE. 
 
 Quiet from God ! how beautiful to keep 
 This treasure the All-merciful hath given ; 
 
 To feel, when we awake and when we sleep, 
 Its incense round us like a breath from heaven ! 
 
 Folded HrtiKlg. 34: 
 
266 FOLDED HANDS. 
 
 To sojourn in the world, and yet apart ; 
 
 To dwell with God, and still with man to feel ; 
 To bear about for ever in the heart 
 
 The gladness which the Spirit doth reveal ! 
 
 Who shall make trouble, then ? Not evil minds, 
 Which, like a shadow, o'er creation lower ; 
 
 The soul which peace hath thus attuned, finds 
 How strong within doth reign the Calmer's power. 
 
 What shall make trouble ? Not slow-wasting pain, 
 Nor even the threatening, certain stroke of death ; 
 
 These do but wear away, then break, the chain 
 Which bound the spirit down to things beneath. 
 
 THE CROSS. 
 
 I 'll take my cross and follow Thee ; 
 
 But oh, my blessed Lord, 
 The cross shall not a burden be. 
 
 While thou dost strength afford : 
 I '11 bear it with a holy joy, 
 
 In thy dear footprints tread, 
 While glory from the opening sky 
 
 Falls softly round my head. 
 
DARK DA YS. 267 
 
 I take it from thy bleeding hand; 
 
 I hold it, and am held ; 
 And follow at thy sweet command, 
 
 By this dear symbol sealed, 
 Thy scholar and thy child to be. 
 
 Thy servant and thy friend. 
 Oh gracious gift and mystery, 
 
 Which both in one can blend ! 
 
 Yes, let me welcome tears and loss. 
 
 And smile at pain and grief. 
 And though I faint beneath the cross, 
 
 Wait meekly for relief. 
 The oil of gladness on thy brow 
 
 Was poured, O Holy One ! 
 Anoint me, Jesus, even now. 
 
 Like thee my course to run. 
 
 MRS. H. E. BROWN. 
 
 DARK DA YS. 
 
 When the day is brightest. 
 
 Then the heart is lightest, 
 For we fancy sorrow with the darkness flees away ; 
 
 But a cloudy morning 
 
 Brings us gloomy warning 
 That before us lies a sad and troublous day. 
 
268 FOLDED HANDS, 
 
 Faithless human spirit, 
 
 How thou dost inherit 
 All the weakness and the sin of fickle earthly clay ! 
 
 Faith will teach us rather, 
 
 Clouds can never gather ^ 
 If we dwell in God, for then we dwell in light alway. 
 
 Our dear Lord has told us 
 
 Grace and love enfold us, 
 Though the sky above look lowering and dark ; 
 
 On his word reclining, 
 
 We discern clear shining, 
 Looking upward, soaring, and singing like the lark. 
 
 In our fiercest anguish 
 Hope must never languish ; 
 
 'T is a ray of heaven escaped from out the open door : 
 Every cloud 't will brighten, 
 Saddest hearts 't will lighten, 
 
 And will gild our pathway up where shadows fall 
 no more. mrs. helen e. brown. 
 
 HOPE'S SONG. 
 I HEAR it singing, singing sweetly, 
 
 Softly in an undertone, 
 Singing as if God had taught it, 
 
 " It is better farther on !" 
 
ABIDE WITH ME. 269 
 
 Night and day it sings the same song, 
 
 Sings it while I sit alone, 
 Sings so that the heart may hear it, 
 
 " It is better farther on !" 
 
 Sits upon the grave and sings it. 
 Sings it when the heart would groan, 
 
 Sings it when the shadows darken, 
 " It is better farther on !" 
 
 Farther on ? Oh, how much farther ? 
 
 Count the milestones one by one. 
 No, no counting, only trusting 
 
 '' It is better farther on !" 
 
 " DIARIES AND LETTERS." 
 
 ABIDE WITH ME. 
 
 Abide with me ! fast falls the eventide. 
 The darkness deepens; Lord, with me abide. 
 When other helpers fail, and comforts flee. 
 Help of the helpless, oh, abide with me! 
 
 Swift to its close ebbs out life's little day ; 
 Earth's joys grow dim, its glories pass away ; 
 Change and decay on all around I see ; 
 O Thou who changest not, abide with me. 
 
27 o FOLDED HANDS. 
 
 I need thy presence every passing hour: 
 What but thy grace can foil the tempter's power ? 
 Who, like thyself, my guide and stay can be ? 
 Through cloud and sunshine, Lord, abide with me. 
 
 I fear no pain, with thee at hand to bless ; 
 Ills have no weight, and tears no bitterness ; 
 Where is death's sting ? where, grave, thy victory ? 
 I triumph still, if Thou abide with me. 
 
 Hold thou thy cross before my closing eyes ; 
 Shine through the gloom, and point me to the skies ; 
 Heaven's morning breaks, and earth's vain shadows 
 
 flee; 
 In life, in death, O Lord, abide with me. lyte. 
 
 THE MASTER'S TOUCH. 
 
 In the still air the music lies unheard ; 
 
 In the rough marble beauty hides unseen ; 
 To make the music and the beauty needs 
 
 The master's touch, the sculptor's chisel keen. 
 
 Great Master, touch us with thy skilful hand ; 
 
 Let not the music that is in us die. 
 Great Sculptor, hew and polish us, nor let. 
 
 Hidden and lost, thy form within us die. 
 
FOR EVER WITH THE LORD. 271 
 
 Spare not the stroke ; do with us as thou wilt ; 
 
 Let there be naught unfinished, broken, marred : 
 Complete thy purpose, that we may become 
 
 Thy perfect image, O our God and Lord ! 
 
 FOR EVER WITH THE LORD, 
 
 " For ever with the Lord !" 
 
 Amen ! so let it be : 
 Life from the dead is in that word ; 
 
 'T is immortality ! 
 
 Here in the body pent, 
 Absent from him I roam ; 
 
 Yet nightly pitch my moving tent 
 A day's march nearer home. 
 
 My Father's house on high ! 
 
 Home of my soul ! how near, 
 At times, to faith's foreseeing eye, 
 
 Thy golden gates appear ! 
 
 " For ever with the Lord !" 
 
 Father, if 't is thy will, 
 The promise of thy gracious word 
 
 E'en here to me fulfil. 
 
272 FOLDED HANDS. 
 
 Be thou at my right hand, 
 
 So shall I never fail ; 
 Uphold thou me and I shall stand ; 
 
 Help, and I shall prevail. 
 
 So, when my latest breath 
 Shall rend the veil in twain, 
 
 By death I shall escape from death, 
 And life eternal gain. 
 
 Knowing as I am known. 
 How shall I love that word, 
 
 And oft repeat before the throne, 
 " For ever with the Lord !" 
 
 MONTGOMERY. 
 
 NO NIGHT SHALL BE IN HE A VEN 
 No night shall be in heaven ; no gathering gloom 
 wShall o'er that glorious landscape ever come ; 
 No tears shall fall in sadness o'er those flowers 
 That breathe their fragrance thro' celestial bovvers. 
 
 No night shall be in heaven ; no dreadful hour 
 Of mental darkness, of the tempter's power ; 
 Across those skies no envious clouds shall roll, 
 To dim the sunlight of the raptured soul. 
 
ROD AND STAFF. 273 
 
 No night shall be in heaven ; no sorrow's reign ; 
 No secret anguish, no corporeal pain ; 
 No shivering limbs, no burning fever there, 
 No soul's eclipse, no winter of despair. 
 
 No night shall be in heaven, but endless noon ; 
 No fast declining sun, no waning moon ; 
 But there the Lamb shall yield perpetual light, 
 'Mid pastures green and waters ever bright. 
 
 ROD AND STAFF. 
 
 Spare not thy rod, O blessed Lord ! 
 
 I need it every day, 
 To keep my erring footsteps in 
 
 The straight and narrow way. 
 
 Spare not thy rod, for thou dost smite 
 
 In mercy, not in wrath, 
 To urge my feet, so prone to halt 
 
 And loiter in the path. 
 
 But give thy staff, to comfort me 
 
 As blow succeeds to blow, 
 And I shall mark where Christ has trod, 
 
 As step by step I go. 
 35 
 
2 74 FOLDED HANDS. 
 
 But give thy staff, and I shall walk 
 Unheeding all the pain : 
 
 F'or every blow the rod inflicts 
 The staff will heal again. 
 
 If rod and staff united be, 
 Until my journey's done, 
 
 I '11 fearless pass the vale of death, 
 And sing the victories won. 
 
 LOVE, REST, AND HOME. 
 
 Beyond the smiling and the weeping 
 
 I shall be soon ; 
 Beyond the waking and the sleeping, 
 Beyond the sowing and the reaping, 
 
 I shall be soon ; 
 Love, rest, and home ! 
 
 Sweet hope ! 
 Lord, tarry not, but come. 
 
 Beyond the blooming and the fading 
 
 I shall be soon ; 
 Beyond the shining and the shading, 
 Beyond the hoping and the dreading, 
 
 I shall be soon. 
 
LOVE, REST, AND HOME. 275 
 
 Love, rest, and home ! 
 
 Sweet hope ! 
 Lord, tarry not, but come, 
 
 Beyond the rising and the setting 
 
 I shall be soon ; 
 Beyond the calming and the fretting, 
 Beyond remembering and forgetting, 
 
 I shall be soon. 
 Love, rest, and home ! 
 
 Sweet hope ! 
 Lord, tarry not, but come. 
 
 Beyond the parting and the meeting 
 
 I shall be soon ; 
 Beyond the farewell and the greeting, 
 Beyond the pulse's fever beating, 
 
 I shall be soon. 
 Love, rest, and home ! 
 
 Sweet hope ! 
 Lord, tarry not, but come. 
 
 Beyond the frost-chain and the fever 
 
 I shall be soon ; 
 Beyond the rock-waste and the river, 
 Beyond the ever and the never, 
 
 I shall be soon. 
 
2 76 FOLDED HANDS. 
 
 Love, rest, and home ! 
 
 Sweet hope ! 
 Lord, tarry not, but come. 
 
 ALL'S WELL/ 
 The clouds, which rise with thunder, slake 
 
 Our thirsty souls with rain ; 
 The blow most dreaded falls to break 
 
 From off our limbs a chain : 
 And wrongs of man to man but make 
 
 The love of God more plain. 
 As through the shadowy lens of even 
 
 The eye looks farthest into heaven. 
 On gleams of star and depths of blue 
 
 The glaring sunshine never knew. 
 
 JOHN G. WHITTIER. 
 
 * 
 
 THE HE A VENLY SCULPTOR. 
 Shrink not from suffering. Each dear blow, 
 
 From which thy smitten spirit bleeds. 
 Is but a messenger to show 
 
 The renovation which it needs. 
 
 The earthly sculptor smites the rock ; 
 
 Loud the relentless hammer rings, 
 And from the rude unshapen block 
 
 At length imprisoned beauty brings. 
 
COMFORT IN SUFFERING. 277 
 
 Thou art that rude, unshapen stone; 
 
 And waitest, till the arm of strife 
 Shall make its crucifixions known, 
 
 And smite and carve thee into life. 
 
 The heavenly Sculptor works on thee ; 
 
 Be patient. Soon his arm of might, 
 Shall from thy prison's darkness free. 
 
 And change thee to a form of light. 
 
 COMFORT IN SUFFERING. 
 When languor and disease invade 
 
 This trembling house of clay, 
 'T is sweet to look beyond my pain, 
 
 And long to fly away. 
 
 Sweet to look inward and attend 
 The whispers of His love ; 
 
 Sweet to look upward to the place 
 Where Jesus pleads above ; 
 
 Sweet to look back, and see my name 
 In life's fair book set down ; 
 
 Sweet to look forward and behold 
 Eternal joys my own ; 
 
278 FOLDED HANDS. 
 
 Sweet on His faithfulness to rest, 
 Whose love can never end ; 
 
 Sweet on the promise of his grace 
 For all things to depend ; 
 
 Sweet, in the confidence of faith, 
 
 To trust his firm decrees ; 
 Sweet to lie passive in his hands, 
 
 And know no will but his. 
 
 If such the sweetness of the stream, 
 What must the fountain be, 
 
 Where saints and angels draw their bliss 
 Directly, Lord, from thee ? toplady. 
 
 AFTERWARD. 
 
 Now, the sowing and the weeping, 
 Working hard and waiting long ; 
 
 Afterward, the golden reaping, 
 Harvest home, and grateful song. 
 
 Now, the pruning, sharp, unsparing, 
 Scattered blossom, bleeding shoot ; 
 
 Afterward, the plenteous bearing 
 Of the Master's pleasant fruit. 
 
THE ANGEL OF PATIENCE. 279 
 
 Now, the plunge, the briny burden, 
 Blind, faint, groping in the sea ; 
 
 Afterward, the pearly guerdon 
 That shall make the diver free. 
 
 Now, the long and toilsome duty 
 Stone by stone to carve and bring ; 
 
 Afterward, the perfect beauty 
 Of the palace of the King. 
 
 Now, the tuning and the tension, 
 Hailing minors, discord strong ; 
 
 Afterward, the grand ascension 
 Of the alleluia song. 
 
 Now, the spirit conflict-riven. 
 Wounded heart, unequal strife ; 
 
 Afterward, the triumph given, 
 And the victor's crown of life. 
 
 Now, the training strange and lowly, 
 Unexplained and tedious now ; 
 
 Afterward the service holy, 
 
 And the Master's " Enter, thou !" 
 
 FRANCES RIDLEY HAVERGAL. 
 
 THE ANGEL OF PATIENCE, 
 To weary hearts, to mourning homes, 
 God's meekest angel gently comes : 
 
28o I^'OLDED HANDS. 
 
 No power has he to banish pain, 
 Or give us back our lost again ; 
 And yet in tenderest love our dear 
 And heavenly Father sends him here. 
 
 There 's quiet in that angel's glance, 
 There 's rest in his still countenance ! 
 He mocks no grief with idle cheer, 
 Nor wounds with words the mourner's ear 
 But ills and woes he may not cure 
 He kindly trains us to endure. 
 
 Angel of Patience ! sent to calm 
 Our feverish brows with cooling palm ; 
 To lay the storms of hope and fear. 
 And reconcile life's smile and tear ; 
 The throbs of wounded pride to still, 
 And make our own our Father's will ! 
 
 Oh thou who mournest on thy way, 
 
 With longings for the close of day, 
 
 He walks with thee, that angel kind, 
 
 And gently whispers, " Be resigned !" 
 
 Bear up, bear on, the end shall tell 
 
 ** The dear Lord ordereth all things well !" 
 
A SONG IN THE NIGHT, 
 
 A SONG IN THE NIGHT 
 I TAKE this pain, Lord Jesus, 
 
 From thine own hand ; 
 The strength to bear it bravely 
 
 Thou wilt command, 
 I am too weak for effort, 
 
 So let me rest. 
 In hush of sweet submission, 
 
 On thine own breast. 
 
 I take this pain. Lord Jesus, 
 
 As proof indeed 
 That thou art watching closely 
 
 My truest need ; 
 That thou, my good Physician, 
 
 Art working still ; 
 That all thine own good pleasure 
 
 Thou wilt fulfil, 
 
 I take this pain, Lord Jesus ! 
 
 But what beside ? 
 'Tis no unmingled portion 
 
 Thou dost provide. 
 In every hour of faintness 
 
 My cup runs o'er 
 With faithfulness and mercy. 
 
 And love's sweet store. 
 
 Folded Hands. 36 
 
282 FOLDED HANDS. 
 
 I take this pain, Lord Jesus, 
 
 As thine own gift, 
 And true, though tremulous, praises 
 
 I now uplift. 
 I am too weak to sing them, 
 
 But thou dost hear 
 The whisper from the pillow. 
 
 Thou art so near ! 
 
 'T is thy dear hand, O Saviour, 
 
 That presseth sore. 
 The hand that bears the nail-prints 
 
 For evermore. 
 And now beneath its shadow, 
 
 Hidden by thee. 
 The pressure only tells me 
 
 Thou lovest me. 
 
 FRANCES RIDLEY HAVERGAL. 
 
 WE GLORY IN TRIBULA TION ALSO. 
 Within this leaf, to every eye 
 So little worth, doth hidden lie 
 Most rare and subtile fragrancy. 
 Wouldst thou its secret strength unbind ? 
 Crush it, and thou shalt perfume find 
 Sweet as Arabia's spicy wind. 
 
THE SUFFERER CHEERED. 2 S3 
 
 111 this dull stone, so poor, and bare 
 Of shape or lustre, patient care 
 Will find for thee a jewel rare ! 
 But first must skilful hands essay, 
 With file and flint, to clear away 
 The film which hides its fire from day. 
 
 This leaf ! this stone ! It is thy heart ; 
 It must be crushed by pain and smart ; 
 It must be cleansed by sorrow's art. 
 Ere it will yield a fragrance sweet, 
 Ere it will shine a jewel meet 
 To lay before thy dear Lord's feet ! 
 
 S. WILEERFORCE. 
 
 THE SUFFERER CHEERED. 
 " Say ! shall I take the thorn away ?" 
 
 So spake my gracious Lord — 
 " O'er which thy sighs are heaved by day, 
 
 Thy nightly tears are poured ? 
 Say ! shall I give thee rest and ease. 
 
 Make earth's fair prospects rise, 
 And bid thy bark o'er summer seas 
 
 Float smoothly to the skies ? 
 
 " Shall peace and plenty's cup swell high. 
 
 Health leap through every vein. 
 And all exempt thy moments fly 
 
 From bitter invyard pain? 
 
2S4 FOLDED HANDS. 
 
 Be naught to check the inspiring flow 
 
 Of human friendship's tide ; 
 And every want thy heart can know, 
 
 Be quickly satisfied ? 
 
 " Know, thine ease-loving heart might miss 
 
 The comfort with the cai^e ! 
 And that full tide of earthly bliss 
 
 Leave little room for prayer ! 
 Few were thy visits to the throne, 
 
 Unhastened there by pain ; 
 Thou o'er thy bosom-sins, alone, 
 
 Wouldst small advantage gain !" 
 
 HOW MUCH I OWE. 
 When this passing world is done, 
 When has sunk yon glaring sun, 
 When we stand with Christ in glory, 
 Looking o'er life's finished story, 
 Then, Lord, shall I fully know — 
 Not till then-^how much I owe. 
 
 When I stand before the throne, 
 Dressed in beauty not my own, 
 When I see thee as thou art, 
 Love thee with unsinning heart, 
 
2'HE PO WER OF PR A YER. 2S5 
 
 Then, Lord, shall I fully know — 
 Not till then — how much I owe. 
 
 When the praise of heaven I hear, 
 Loud as thunder to the ear. 
 Loud as many waters' noise. 
 Sweet as harp's melodious voice. 
 Then, Lord, shall I fully know — 
 Not till then — how much I owe. 
 
 Even on earth, as through a glass. 
 Darkly, let thy glory pass ; 
 Make forgiveness feel so sweet, 
 Make thy Spirit's help so meet ; 
 Even on earth, Lord, make me know 
 Something of how much I owe. 
 
 R. M. M'CHEYNE. 
 
 THE POWER OF PRAYER. 
 
 There is an eye that never sleeps 
 Beneath the wing of night; 
 
 There is an ear that never shuts, 
 When sink the beams of light. 
 
 There is an arm that never tires. 
 When human strength gives way ; 
 
 There is a love that never fails. 
 When earthly loves decay. 
 
286 FOLDED HANDS. 
 
 That eye is fixed on seraph throngs ; 
 
 That arm upholds the sky ; 
 That ear is filled with angel songs ; 
 
 That love is throned on high. 
 
 But there 's a power which man can wield, 
 
 When mortal aid is vain, 
 That eye, that arm, that love to reach, 
 
 That listening ear to gain. 
 
 That power is prayer, which soars on high, 
 Through Jesus, to the throne ; 
 
 And moves the hand which moves the world, 
 To bring salvation down ! 
 
 ''ABIDE WITH MEP 
 
 Sun of my soul, thou Saviour dear, 
 It is not night if thou be near: 
 Oh, may no earth-born cloud arise 
 To hide thee from thy servant's eyes. 
 
 When the soft dews of kindly sleep 
 My wearied eyelids gently steep, 
 Be my last thought, how sweet to rest 
 For ever on mv Saviour's breast. 
 
THE ATONING SACRIFICE. 287 
 
 Abide with me from morn till eve, 
 For without thee I cannot live ; 
 Abide with me when night is nigh, 
 For without thee I dare not die. 
 Be near to bless me when I wake. 
 Ere through the world my way I take ; 
 Abide with me till in thy love 
 I lose myself in heaven above. keble. 
 
 THE ATONING SACRIFICE. 
 O SACRED head, now wounded ! 
 
 With grief and shame weighed down, 
 Now scornfully surrounded 
 
 With thorns, thine only crown — 
 O sacred head ! what glory. 
 
 What bliss, till now, was thine I 
 Yet, though despised and gory, 
 
 I joy to call thee mine. 
 What thou, my Lord ! hast suffered 
 
 Was all for sinners' gain ; 
 Mine, mine was the transgression, 
 
 But thine the deadly pain : 
 Lo ! here I fall, my Saviour ! 
 
 T is I deserve thy place ; 
 Look on me with thy favor, 
 
 Vouchsafe to me thy grace. 
 
238 FOLDED HANDS. 
 
 The joy can ne'er be spoken, 
 
 Above all joys beside, 
 When in thy body broken 
 
 I thus with safety hide: 
 My Lord of life ! desiring 
 
 Thy glory now to see. 
 Beside thy cross expiring, 
 
 I 'd breathe my soul to thee. 
 
 What language shall I borrow 
 
 To thank thee, dearest Friend, 
 For this thy dying sorrow. 
 
 Thy pity without end ? 
 Oh ! make me thine for ever ; 
 
 And should I fainting be. 
 Lord ! let me never, never. 
 
 Outlive my love to thee ! 
 
 Be near me when I 'm dying. 
 
 Oh ! show thy cross to me ! 
 And, for my succor flying, 
 
 Come, Lord ! and set me free ! 
 These eyes new faith receiving. 
 
 From Jesus shall not move ; 
 For he who dies believing 
 
 Dies safely, through thy love. 
 
 GERHARDT. 
 
INDEX OF AUTHORS. 
 
 Adams, Helen S. page 183 
 
 Armstrong, Florence C- iio 
 
 B., Mariana -- 262 
 
 BiCKERSTETH, EDWARD H. - 224 
 
 Bonar, Horatius 64,68,78, 
 
 147, 247, 261, 270, 274 
 
 Bond, Edward- 233 
 
 Bowring, Sir John 171 
 
 Brainard, Miss M. G. 211 
 
 Brooks, C.-- 62 
 
 Brown, Mrs. H. E.--- 38, 102, 
 
 113, 266,267 
 
 Browning, Elizabeth B.-- 259 
 
 Burr, Kate Sumner 198 
 
 Butts, Mrs. M. F. 203 
 
 Carey, Phcebe 49, 59,93 
 
 Clark, Simeon Tucker--- 241 
 
 Coolidge, Susan 98 
 
 Crewdson, Jane 66, 141 
 
 Dean of Canterbury 216 
 
 Deszler, German of 92 
 
 "Diaries and Letters"-- 268 
 
 Dodge, Mary B. 149, 199 
 
 Dorr, Mrs. Julia C. R.--- 139 
 
 Elliott, C. 
 
 [32 
 
 E. L. E. -- 107, 197, 210, 229, 
 Ellet, Emily 
 
 E. T. 225 
 
 Evelyn, Ada - 213 
 
 Faber, Frederick W. 112 
 
 Fleming, Paul - 197 
 
 Gerhardt, translated --244, 287 
 German, frdm the--- 108, 156 
 
 Glyndon, Howard 240 
 
 Gunnison, E. Norman 28 
 
 Guthrie 79 
 
 Hall, Rev. Robert B. So 
 
 Hall, Harvie 26 
 
 Harbaugh, Henry 20 
 
 Havergal, Frances Rid- 
 ley 89, 144, 190, 278, 281 
 
 Hemans, Mrs. ^^ 
 
 Hinsdale, Grace Web- 
 ster 159 
 
 Holm, Saxe 10,101,117 
 
 Hunt, Helen 188 
 
 H. W. B. -- 181 
 
 Hymn, Old Latin 177 
 
 Ingersoll, Julia Tolman- 95, 
 
 105, 185 
 
 Xeble, John 286 
 
 861 La Forge, Amalie - - 24 
 
 37 
 
290 
 
 INDEX OF A UTHORS. 
 
 Leach, S. Jennie 254 
 
 Lee, Mary E. 142 
 
 L. H. F. 61 
 
 Lyte, Henry F. 269 
 
 Massey, Gerald 168 
 
 Mathews, Julia A. 30 
 
 McCheyne, R. M. 284 
 
 Miles, Ellen E. 36 
 
 Montgomery, James-- 271 
 
 Montgomery, Kate-- 193,231, 
 244 
 
 Palmer, Ray, D. D. 133 
 
 Prentiss, Mrs. E. 192 
 
 Preston, Margaret J. 1 57 
 
 Procter, Adelaide A.--- 100, 
 152, 238, 246, 255 
 
 Randolph, A. D. F. 35 
 
 Richards, Rev. W. C. 15 
 
 RiCHTER, Johann P. F. 66 
 
 Rossetti, Christina 17 
 
 Sangster, Margaret E.-- 29, 
 
 215 
 
 S. B. T. 7,87, 166 
 
 Sill, Edmund Rowland-- 77 
 
 Spencer, Carl -- 137,234 
 
 Stephen THE Sabaite 34 
 
 Stowe, H. B. - 57 
 
 Sturm, from German OF- 178 
 Swan 27 
 
 Toplady, Augustus M.--- 277 
 
 Ulrich, from German of- 43 
 
 Walsh, Mrs. S. M. 82 
 
 Wesley, Charles 44, 180 
 
 Whitney, Mrs. A. D. T.-- 208 
 
 Whittier, John G.--- 75, 182, 
 
 187, 276, 279 
 
 Wilberforce, S. 282 
 
 Williams, Alice 153 
 
 Wyman, A. L. 103 
 
INDEX OF SUBJECTS. 
 
 "Abide with Me" pages 269, 286 
 
 Affliction • 200 
 
 Afterward 278 
 
 All in All - 80 
 
 All's Well 276 
 
 Anchors, The Four — -^S 
 
 And Let this Feeble Body Fail 44 
 
 Angel, My 87 
 
 Angel of Pain, The ■ • .-.. 10 
 
 Angel of Patience, The --- - 279 
 
 Angel of Submission, The 137 
 
 Answer, The-- cj 
 
 Anywhere with Jesus 40 
 
 As God Leads — ly. 
 
 As God Wills 162 
 
 As Thou Wilt! 254 
 
 Atoning Sacrifice, The — -. 287 
 
 Back to Life i8c 
 
 Best 05 
 
 Be Still and Trust-- • 43 
 
 Beyond 26 
 
 l''irds- 249 
 
 Bitter-Sweet - 30 
 
 Blessing in the Rod, The 160 
 
 Blessing of Sorrow, The 6^ 
 
 Border-Land - 41, 175 
 
292 INDEX OF SUBJECTS. 
 
 Brook, The - — io6 
 
 By-and-By - -- 157 
 
 Called Aside - 11 
 
 Chant, A - 255 
 
 Christ the Only Comforter - 105 
 
 Cleansing Fires - - — - 9 
 
 Coat of Many Colors, The 195 
 
 Comfort by the Way 13 
 
 Comfortings 25 
 
 Comfort in Suffering • - 277 
 
 Comfort or Complaint - 90 
 
 C ourage - 34 
 
 Cross, My - -- 95 
 
 Cross, The 266 
 
 Cry for Rest, A 18 
 
 Dark Days ■ 267 
 
 Day ■ 122 
 
 De Profundis 259 
 
 Discipline — - - - 1^4 
 
 Elder Brother, The 68 
 
 Endurance - - 61 
 
 Enough 89 
 
 Eternal Refuge, The • 180 
 
 Evening Prayer 85 
 
 Exiled from the Sanctuary 170 
 
 Father, Lead On 133 
 
 Fog, In the - 102 
 
 For Ever with the Lord 271 
 
 For Jesus' Sake 130 
 
 Gain of Loss, The - 64 
 
 Gate of Heaven, The 79 
 
 God's Blessed Rain - 82 
 
 God's School, In 144 
 
 Guiding Hand, The -^ 48 
 
INDEX OF SUBJECTS. 293 
 
 Haven of Rest, The - - - - 205 
 
 Heart Cry, A - 22 
 
 Heart Hushings 27 
 
 Heaven 222 
 
 Heavenly Sculptor, The 276 
 
 Heavenward - - -- 91 
 
 He Giveth his Beloved Sleep--- 30 
 
 "He Giveth Songs m the Night" 250 
 
 Helpless - 126 
 
 Hidden Ones -- 107 
 
 Hidden Springs 225 
 
 High Priest, Our 242 
 
 Hills of God, The - 160 
 
 "Himself hath Done it" •- 123 
 
 His Rest 28 
 
 Homewards i47 
 
 Hopefully Waiting 35 
 
 Hope's Song- 268 
 
 How Much I Owe 284 
 
 If Thou Couldst Know - 152 
 
 "I Hold Still" - 178 
 
 "In Hope of Eternal Life" --- - 231 
 
 In School - - 9S 
 
 In the Rough - - 83 
 
 Inward Peace - - - 265 
 
 "I Shall be Satisfied" 43 
 
 "It is I" - 67 
 
 "I Will Send the Comforter" 118 
 
 Jerusalem the Golden - I77 
 
 Jesus, Consolator — 215 
 
 Jesus, Help Conquer - 201 
 
 Jesus is Mine - — — 204 
 
 Just as God Leads - - - 15^ 
 
 King in His Beauty, The - -- no 
 
 King of Glory. The i?^ 
 
294 INDEX OF SUBJECTS, 
 
 Land of Light, The 39 
 
 Leaning on Jesus 20, 21 
 
 Life's Lesson - - 136 
 
 Life's Lot 216 
 
 Light Beyond 223 
 
 Little While, A 141 
 
 Longing, A Hymn of - 117 
 
 Longings 56, 193 
 
 " Looking unto Jesus " 165 
 
 Love and Rest 149 
 
 Love of God, The loi 
 
 Love of Jesus, The 127 
 
 Love, Rest, and Home - 274 
 
 Master's Touch, The-- — ----- 270 
 
 Master-Teacher, The -- 1115 
 
 "My Ain Countrie " 142 
 
 My Times are in Thy Hand 46 
 
 Nearer Home 49 
 
 No Night shall be in Heaven - 272 
 
 Not as I Will - 188 
 
 "Not as Our Ways" 230 
 
 Not Knowing 211 
 
 "Not My Will, but Thine" - 236 
 
 Now and Then - 15 
 
 Old Hymn, An 197 
 
 One Step More 264 
 
 Only Waiting 252 
 
 Other Side, The 29 
 
 Our Rest -- 50 
 
 Patience 93,234 
 
 Peace 57 
 
 Peaceable Fruit — Afterward - 209 
 
 Peace of God, The - 190 
 
 Per Pacem ad Lucem 100 
 
INDEX OF SUBJECTS. 295 
 
 Pilgrim's Song, A 14 
 
 Prayer -. 153, 262 
 
 Precious Token, The 159 
 
 Promises, The 244 
 
 Providence - - iiS 
 
 Power of Prayer, The 2S5 
 
 Psalm, My - - 75 
 
 Quiet Mind, A -- 220 
 
 Reconciled 59 
 
 Rest-- ■ 199 
 
 Resting-Place, The 124 
 
 Rest of the Weary - --- 197 
 
 Rod and Staff - 273 
 
 Save, Lord, or I Perish 198 
 
 Serving and Resting 181 
 
 Singing in the Rain 253 
 
 Shadows 74. 213 
 
 Shepherd, The Lord is My 217 
 
 Similitudes i'}) 
 
 Sleep - - - 163 
 
 Snow-Bird, The - 72 
 
 Solace, A Song of — 108 
 
 Soldier's Death, A- 151 
 
 Song in the Night, A 281 
 
 Some Time 54 
 
 Sorrow 131 
 
 Sorrow, A First 238 
 
 Sorrow a Friend 246 
 
 Story of the Aloe, The 20 
 
 Strength to Live — 139 
 
 Sufferer Cheered, The 283 
 
 Sufferer's Couch, The 139 
 
 Sunset, In the 166 
 
 Sure Refuge, The 84 
 
296 INDEX OF SUBJECTS. 
 
 Sweet Marjoram (y-^ 
 
 Sweet Patience, Come ! 23 
 
 Tears - 203 
 
 Thankfulness - -^ 258 
 
 Thanks for Pain 240 
 
 The Cross in the Plan - 233 
 
 Thorn and the Cross, The 241 
 
 Thou Knowest All 52 
 
 " Thou Wilt Show Me the Path of Life " 78 
 
 Thus Only - - • - 210 
 
 Thy Will - 221 
 
 "Thy Will be Done" -- 32, 187 
 
 Thy Will— and Mine • 94 
 
 "Till He Come" 224 
 
 To-morrow - 207 
 
 Trust 97> 1 29 
 
 Trust, My -- 183 
 
 Under God's Hand 86 
 
 Unseen 135 
 
 Up Hill 17 
 
 Use Me 261 
 
 Vineyard, In His 103 
 
 Vineyard Laborers - 227 
 
 Waiting - 7, "3 
 
 Watch in the Night, A- - 24 
 
 "We cannot be Mended unless We are Broken" 192 
 
 We Glory in Tribulation also - 282 
 
 *• We would See Jesus" •• - 53 
 
 •'What is Patience?" 229 
 
 What Then? - 66 
 
 ** When the Song's Gone out of Your Life " — 237 
 
 Willof God, The 112 
 
 Wise Weeping 247 
 
INDEX OF FIRST LINES. 
 
 Abide with me ! fast falls the eventide page 269 
 
 A block of marble caught the glance 154 
 
 A feeble taper with enough of light 107 
 
 A little child rests on a bed of pain 30 
 
 " Allah ! Allah !" cried the sick man 51 
 
 And let this feeble body fail -- 44 
 
 Angel of Pain, I think thy face • - 10 
 
 Anywhere with Jesus, says the Christian heart 40 
 
 A ravelled rainbow overhead - 208 
 
 Arise ! this day shall shine - - 238 
 
 Art thou weary, art thou languid --- 34 
 
 As God leads me will I go - i73 
 
 As the harp-strings only render - 200 
 
 A strong and mailed angel 61 
 
 At the spring of an arch in the great north tower 135 
 
 At thy blest feet, dear Saviour, low I kneel - 198 
 
 A voice has called me to the wilderness 124 
 
 Because your way is dark is there no light? 153 
 
 Be the day weary, or be the day long - 108 
 
 Beyond ! I wander now among 26 
 
 Beyond the smiling and the weeping 274 
 
 Beyond the stars that shine in golden glory 223 
 
 " Blest is the man thou chastenest. Lord !" - - 132 
 
 Blindfolded and alone I stand - 188 
 
 By anguish which made pale the sun 259 
 
 Called aside - n 
 
 Child of my love, lean hard 2c 
 
 Christ never asks of us such busy labor ■ • iSi 
 
 38 
 
298 INDEX OF FIRST IINES. 
 
 Dear suffering one ! weary must be thy days 86 
 
 Does the road wind up hill all the way? - 17 
 
 Do not cheat thy heart and tell her 246 
 
 Dropping down the troubled river-- •• 147 
 
 Even so, O Father ! 254 
 
 P^ather, I know that all my life - 46 
 
 Father, into thy loving hands 175 
 
 Forenoon, and afternoon, and night — forenoon 77 
 
 •'For ever with the Lord!" 271 
 
 For His are strokes of love - 43 
 
 God's garden, where tall lilies grow d^t 
 
 God's right-hand angel, bright and strong 137 
 
 Go not far from me, O my Strength 118 
 
 Have you heard the tale of the aloe plant 20 
 
 Heaven is not far away - 91 
 
 He is my Shepherd, I his sheep 217 
 
 He sees when their footsteps falter - 163 
 
 He sits in winter's sleet 72 
 
 " Himself hath done it" all. Oh, how those words 123 
 
 How we have longed and prayed for rain ! 82 
 
 I am far frae my hame, an' I 'm weary aftenwhiles 142 
 
 I am so weak, dear Lord, I cannot stand 89 
 
 I asked of my spirit within me - 69 
 
 I bent beneath the burden 95 
 
 I cannot see with my small human sight — - 97 
 
 I cannot think but God must know ■ 117 
 
 I do not ask, O Lord, that life may be 100 
 
 I do not ask that God shall always make - 191 
 
 I have a treasure which I prize 220 
 
 I have something Jesus gave me 159 
 
 I heard of a quaint old story 233 
 
 I hear it singing, singing sweetly 26S 
 
INDEX OF FIRST IINES. 299 
 
 I journey along 14 
 
 I journey forth rejoicing 205 
 
 I journey through a desert drear and wild 13 
 
 [ know not if the dark or bright 216 
 
 I know not if the Lord will grant - 183 
 
 I know not what shall befall me - 211 
 
 I lay me down to sleep • 15^ 
 
 I 'II take my cross and follow Thee - 266 
 
 I love to feel that I am taught - -- I44 
 
 I 'm kneeling at the threshold, weary, faint, and sore 79 
 
 I 'm longing for the music ! Yet I make so sad a jar ! 193 
 
 I mourn no more my vanished years 75 
 
 "In hope of eternal life," O soul • - 231 
 
 In the cross of Christ I glory 17^ 
 
 In the darkness and the silence — — 24 
 
 In the still air the music lies unheard 270 
 
 I said, "O hated Sorrow, well thou fittest" • 25 
 
 T sat in the school of sorrow 115 
 
 I should not dare, dear Lord, to say 210 
 
 I sit in the sunlight or shade of to-day 207 
 
 Is it rainy, little flower? 203 
 
 Is this the peace of God, this strange, sweet calm? 190 
 
 " Is this the way, my Father ?" " 'T is, my child " - 48 
 
 I stood by the Master's vineyard - - - 7 
 
 I take this pain. Lord Jesus - 281 
 
 I think if thou couldst know 152 
 
 "Itissohard!" I said • 67 
 
 It is thy hand, my God ! - 22 
 
 I used to go to a bright school 98 
 
 I walked in pleasant places 13° 
 
 I will not let Thee go, thou help in time of need 92 
 
 I worship thee, sweet will of God! 112 
 
 Jesus, help conquer --- 201 
 
 Jesus, lover of my soul - - 180 
 
 Jesus, our tears with blessed smiles are blending 192 
 
300 INDEX OF FIRST IINES. 
 
 Jesus, thou rest of the weary 197 
 
 Jesus, when our hearts are aching 215 
 
 Just as God leads me, I would go 156 
 
 Laid on thine altar, O my Lord divine 236 
 
 Leaning on Thee, my Guide and Friend 21 
 
 Learn to wait — life's hardest lesson - 136 
 
 Leave my Jesus ! never, never - 172 
 
 Let nothing make thee sad or fretful - 197 
 
 Let thy gold be cast in the furnace ■ 9 
 
 Life's mystery — deep, restless as the ocean 57 
 
 Like a cradle, rocking, rocking- 10 1 
 
 Lord, a whole long day of pain 18 
 
 Lord, I had planned to do thee service true 126 
 
 Make use of me, my God! 261 
 
 'Mid the great desert desolate and bare - 225 
 
 My Father, God, lead on! --- 133 
 
 My feet are worn and weary with the march 50 
 
 My God, I thank thee, who hast made 258 
 
 My God! my Father ! while I stray - 221 
 
 My heart is very tired ; my weary hands 105 
 
 My life is like that garment strange 195 
 
 My will, dear Lord, from thine doth run 94 
 
 My window opened where the noon 253 
 
 "Nay, give me back my blossoms " - 64 
 
 No night shall be in heaven ; no gathering gloom 272 
 
 Not as you meant, oh learned man and good - - 35 
 
 "Not clear, nor dark," not rain, not shine 122 
 
 Not from a low and earthly source - 23 
 
 Not here ! not here ! not where the sparkling waters 43 
 
 Not here the sunlit glory 29 
 
 Now, the sowing and the weeping 278 
 
 Now — the tumult of the battle surging 15 
 
 O Christ! there is no need of words to tell 52 
 
 O eyes that are weary, and hearts that are sore 165 
 
INDEX OF FIRST IINES, 301 
 
 Oh, ask in faith! Against the ill thou dreadest 27 
 
 Oh, for the peace that floweth as a river - 141 
 
 Oh, golden lamps that God doth pitying loan us ■ 244 
 
 Oh, I know the hand that is guiding me 84 
 
 Oh, lonely heart - - 213 
 
 Oh, not in hopeless calm of grief -- 234 
 
 Oh, rare old word, half shadowed and half bright - 30 
 
 Oh Thou, the living God, we come to thee ! 262 
 
 Oh! to be over yonder no 
 
 Oh, to be there 222 
 
 Oh, years gone down into the past 59 
 
 O lovely legend of the song - - 240 
 
 One sweetly solemn thought — - 49 
 
 Only waiting till the shadows - 252 
 
 O precious Rest that follows pain 199 
 
 O sacred Head, now wounded 287 
 
 Pain's furnace-heat within me quivers 17S 
 
 Pain stood beside me in my lonely room — 87 
 
 Pass away, earthly joy - 204 
 
 Prisoned birds, through bars quick glancing - 249 
 
 Quiet from God! how beautiful to keep 265 
 
 "Rest will soon be granted, dear " 149 
 
 **Say, shall I take the thorn away?" - 2S3 
 
 Shall I complain if joy go by -- 161 
 
 Shrink not from suffering. Each dear blow 276 
 
 Sing a hymn to Jesus when the heart is faint 90 
 
 Softly through the summer sunset 166 
 
 Some time, when all life's lessons have been learned - 54 
 
 Son of man, thou Elder Brother - 80 
 
 Spare not thy rod, O blessed Lord ! 273 
 
 Suffering is the work now sent - 66 
 
 Sun of my soul, thou Saviour dear - 286 
 
 Sweetly sing the love of Jesus 127 
 
302 INDEX OF FIRST LINES. 
 
 Tears are not always fruitful ; their hot drops ■- 247 
 
 That clime is not like this dull clime of ours 39 
 
 The best will is our Father's will - 244 
 
 The child leans on its parent's breast 129 
 
 The clouds hang heavy round my way-- 74 
 
 The clouds, which rise with thunder, slake - 276 
 
 The day is ended. Ere I sink to sleep--- — 85 
 
 The first pale flowers of tender spring 185 
 
 The heart is like an instrument, whose strings 168 
 
 The marble Wiis pure and white — 83 
 
 The night is dark, but God, my God - 38 
 
 There are no sorrowing hearts but heaven enfolds them 28 
 
 There is an Eye that never sleeps - - 285 
 
 There is never a way so narrow or short 103 
 
 There was a time when, low on bended knee — 139 
 
 The sparrows are chirping, chirping 102 
 
 The spring hath birds, however late 230 
 
 The thorn is very sharp, O righteous Master!-- 241 
 
 Thou art like night, O sickness 1 deeply stilling 33 
 
 Thou knowest best - 32 
 
 Thou, O most compassionate 1S2 
 
 Thousands, O Lord of Hosts, this day • 170 
 
 Thou sweet hand of God, that so woundest my heart - loS 
 
 Thy way, not mine, O Lord ! 78 
 
 "Till He come!" oh, let the words 224 
 
 'T is like a narrow valley-land 160 
 
 'Tis my happiness below 169 
 
 'T is over ! life's pilgrimage story » — -- 41 
 
 Toiling among the vines one day 227 
 
 To live, and not to die 139 
 
 To thee, O dear, dear country --■ 177 
 
 "Touched with the feeling of our need" - 242 
 
 To weary hearts, to mourning homes 279 
 
 Trial, when it weighs severely - 138 
 
 Up in the silent solitudes of prayer 104 
 
INDEX OF FIRST IINES. 
 
 Up in the wild, where no one comes to look io5 
 
 Upon my lips she laid her touch divine 131 
 
 "Wait a wee;" poor heart, be still - 22 
 
 We praise Thee oft for hours of bliss 2 
 
 29 
 
 50 
 
 We see not, know not. All the way 187 
 
 We would see Jesus, for the shadows lengthen 53 
 
 What shall thine " afterward " be, O Lord 209 
 
 What then? Why, then another pilgrim song 66 
 
 What though before me it is dark 264 
 
 What though our earthly friends grow worn and weary ^ 
 
 What will it matter, by-and-by j^7 
 
 When languor and disease invade -.. 277 
 
 When o'er dizzy heights we go 260 
 
 When shall I be at rest ? My trembling heart 56 
 
 When the day is brightest 267 
 
 When the song's gone out of your life 237 
 
 When this passing world is done 284 
 
 Who is the angel that cometh ? 2i;t; 
 
 Why are we so impatient of delay ^3 
 
 Within this leaf, to every eye 282 
 
 With peaceful mind thy race of duty run nS 
 
 Years ago I vainly fancied 152 
 
 Yes, for me, for me, He careth (33 
 
 Yes, I am waiting, Lorti, and it is SAv^et 113