Through ftrife to peace! And though, with bristling front, A thousand frightful deaths encompass thee, Good cheer! good cheer! Brave thou the battle's brunt, For the peace-march and song of victory. Through sweat to fleep! And though the sultry noon Through cross to crown! And though thy spirit's life giant ftrength, Soon ends the bitter strife, And thou shalt reign in peace with Christ at length. Through woe to joy!— And though at morn thou weep, Through death to life! — And through this vale of tears, To the great supper in that world whose years Kosegarten. WH HEN darkness long has veiled my mind, Then, my Creator! then I find The folly of my doubts and fears. Straight I upbraid my wandering heart, O, let me then at length be taught What I am till so flow to learn, That God is love, and changes not, Nor knows the fhadow of a turn. Sweet truth, and easy to repeat ! But when my faith is fharply tried, I find myself a learner yet, Unskilful, weak, and apt to flide. But, O my God! one look from Thee Drives doubt and discontent away, And thy rebellious child is ftill. William Cowper. 1779. "THY WILL BE DONE." Y God, my Father! while I ftray, MY Far from my home, on life's rough way, O teach me from my heart to say, "Thy will be done!" Though dark my path, and sad my lot, What though in lonely grief I sigh "Thy will be done!" If thou shouldft call me to refign Should pining fickness wafte away My Father! ftill I ftrive to say, If but my fainting heart be bleft Renew my will from day to day, Then, when on earth I breathe no more "Thy will be done!" Charlotte Elliott. JUDGE NOT. UDGE not; the workings of his brain A scar, brought from some well-won field, The look, the air, that frets thy fight The soul has closed in deadly fight With some infernal fiery foe, Whose glance would scorch thy smiling grace, And caft thee fhuddering on thy face! May be the angel's flackened hand And take a firmer, surer ftand; And judge none loft; but wait and see, The measure of the height of pain This soul to God in after days! Miss A. A. Procter. HASTE NOT! REST NOT! WITHOUT hafte! without reft! Wind the motto to Bind the motto to thy breast; Bear it with thee as a spell; Storm or sunshine, guard it well! |