So I ask Thee for the daily strength To none that ask denied, And a mind to blend with outward life And if some things I do not ask I would have my spirit filled the more More careful-not to serve Thee much- There are briars besetting every path That 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. In a service which Thy love appoints, For my inmost heart is taught the truth Is a life of liberty. A. L. WARING. TRIALS. No wounds like those a wounded spirit feels; That yields not to the touch of human skill; A Father's frown, and kiss His chastening hand. COWPER. COMFORT. 'O wie manche, schöne Stunde." "We know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to His purpose."ROM. viii. 28. O How many hours of beauty Has the Master dealt around! O how often, to refresh us, Warmly beams the sun of life, Thus it will go on for ever, Till the end of all things here; Then the Fatherland to enter, D Should not this thy spirit strengthen Let Him lead thee where He will? All things work for thy salvation, So the bitterest, as the sweetest, Doubtless rugged heights arising Only journey ever onward, Farther on the homeward way, Ever with an eye uplifted To the clearer realms of day. Fearless thou mayest tread the valley, All in shadow though it be, When the open blue of heaven Shines beyond the gloom for thee. From "Hymns from the Land of Luther." A PSALM OF LIFE. TELL me not, in mournful numbers, Life is real! Life is earnest ! And the grave is not its goal: "Dust thou art, to dust returnest," Was not spoken of the soul. Not enjoyment, and not sorrow, Art is long, and Time is fleeting, And our hearts, though stout and brave, Still, like muffled drums, are beating Funeral marches to the grave. In the world's broad field of battle, Be not like dumb, driven cattle! Trust no Future, howe'er pleasant! Lives of great men all remind us We can make our lives sublime, And, departing, leave behind us, Footprints on the sands of time: Footprints, that perhaps another, Let us, then, be up and doing, LONGFELLOW. THE STAR OF BETHLEHEM. WHEN marshalled on the nightly plain, Can fix the sinner's wandering eye. Hark! hark! to God the chorus breaks, Once on the raging seas I rode, The storm was loud, the night was dark; The ocean yawned, and rudely blowed The wind that tossed my foundering bark. Deep horror then my vitals froze ; It was the Star of Bethlehem. |