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BE STILL!

PEACE! Be ftill!
In this night of sorrow bow,
O my heart, contend not thou!
What befalls thee is God's will,—
Peace! Be ftill!

Peace! Be ftill!

All thy murmuring words are vain,—
God will make the riddle plain:
Wait his word, and bear his will,—
Peace! Be ftill!

Hold thee ftill!

Though the Father scourge thee sore,
Cling thou to him all the more,
Let him mercy's work fulfil!
Hold thee ftill!

Hold thee ftill!

Though the good Phyfician's knife
Seem to touch thy very life,
Death alone he means to kill,
Hold thee ftill!

Lord, my God!
Give me grace, that I may be
Thy true child, and filently
Own thy sceptre and thy rod,
Lord, my God!

Shepherd mine!
From thy fulness give me ftill
Faith to do and bear Thy will,
Till the morning light fhall fhine, —
Shepherd mine!

From the German.

HOLY TEARS.

YES, thou mayft weep, for Jesus fhed
Such tears as those thou fheddeft now,
When for the living or the dead
Sorrow lay heavy on his brow.

He sees thee weep, yet doth not blame
The weakness of thy flefh and heart;

Thy human nature is the same
As that in which he took a part.

He knows its weakness, for he felt
The crufhing power of pain and woe,

How body, soul, and spirit melt,

And faint beneath the ftunning blow.

What if poor finners count thy grief
The fign of an unchaftened will?

He who can give thy soul relief

Knows that thou art submiflive ftill.

Turn thee to Him, to Him alone;

For all that our poor lips can sav To soothe thee, broken-hearted one,

Would fail to comfort thee to-day.

We will not speak to thee, but fit
In prayerful filence by thy fide:

Grief has its ebbs and flows; 't is fit
Our love fhould wait the ebbing tide.

Jesus himself will comfort thee,
In his own time, in his own way;

And haply more than "two or three"
Unite in prayer for thee to-day.

ALL, ALL IS KNOWN TO THEE.

"When my spirit was overwhelmed within me, then thou kneweft my path."— Psalm cxlii. 3.

MY God, whose gracious pity I may claim,
Calling thee Father, sweet, endearing name!
The sufferings of this weak and weary frame, ,
All, all are known to Thee.

From human eye 't is better to conceal
Much that I suffer, much I hourly feel;
But oh! the thought does tranquillize and heal,—
All, all is known to Thee.

Each secret conflict with indwelling sin,

Each fickening fear I ne'er the prize fhall win,

Each pang from irritation, turmoil, din, —

All, all are known to Thee.

Nay, all by Thee is ordered, chosen, planned, —
Each drop that fills my daily cup; thy hand
Prescribes for ills none else can underftand.

All, all is known to Thee.

Nor will the bitter draught diftafteful prove,
When I recall the Son of thy dear love;
The cup thou wouldft not for our sakes remove,
That cup he drank for me.

And welcome, precious can his Spirit make
My little drop of suffering for his sake.
Father, the cup I drink, the path I take, —
All, all is known to Thee.

Adelaide L. Newton.

THE ETERNAL YEARS.

"While we look not at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen: for the things which are seen are temporal; but the things which are not seen are eternal." — 2 Cor. iv. 18

HOW fhalt thou bear the cross that now
So dread a weight appears?
Keep quietly to God, and think
Upon the Eternal Years.

Aufterity is little help,

Although it somewhat cheers;
Thine oil of gladness is the thought

Of the Eternal Years.

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