With what sweet looks doth Thy love shine Those rare repafts which Thy love deals! Henry Vaughan. 1622-1695. AFFLICTION. "For whom the Lord loveth he chafteneth.' - HEBREWS Xxii. 6. HO, that a watcher doth remain WHO Befide a couch of mortal pain, Deems he can ever smile again? Or who that weeps befide a bier And yet anon and he doth start At the light toys in which his heart Can now already claim its part. O heart of ours! so weak and poor, While every sadder, wiser thought, O Thou who doft our weakness know, Grant Thou that we may long retain Richard Chenevix Trench. PATIENCE. ΤΗ LIFE SPRINGING FROM DEATH. seed muft die before the corn appears THEst of the ground, in blade and fruitful ears. Out of the Low have these ears before the fickle lain, The grain is crushed before the bread is made, O be content to die, to be laid low, If thou upon God's table mayft be bread, R. C. Trench. A CITY THAT HATH FOUNDATIONS. TH “HEREFORE, O friend! I would not, if I might, Rebuild my house of lies wherein I joyed One time to dwell; my soul fhall walk in white, Caft down, but not destroyed. Therefore in patience I poffess my soul; Yea, therefore as a flint I set my face, To pluck down, to build up again the whole, - The thorns are sharp, yet I can tread on them; I lift the hanging hands, the feeble knees, I, precious more than seven times molten gold, Until the day when from his storehouses God fhall bring new and old. Beauty for ashes, oil of joy for grief, Although to-day I fade as doth a leaf, Although to-day He prunes my twigs with pain, Yet doth His blood nourish and warm my root; To-morrow I fhall put forth buds again, And clothe myself with fruit. Although to-day I walk in tedious ways, Creation's face a pall of horror wear, Good cheer! good cheer! The gloom of midnight flies; Then fhall a sunrise follow, mild and fair. Through ftorm to calm! And though His thunder-car Through frost to spring! — And though the biting blast Of Eurus ftiffen Nature's juicy veins, Good cheer! good cheer! When winter's wrath is past, Soft, murmuring spring breathes sweetly o'er the plains. |