"As thy days, so shall thy strength be."— DEUT, xxxiii., 25.
Strength for to-day is all that we need, As there will never be a to-morrow; For to-morrow will prove but another to-day, With its measure of joy and sorrow.
Then why forecast the trials of life With much sad and grave persistence, And wait and watch for a crowd of ills That as yet have no existence?
Strength for to day; what a precious boon For earnest souls who labor- For the willing hands that minister To the needy friend and neighbou
Strength for to-day, that the weary hearts In the battle for right may quail not, And the eyes bedimmed by bit er tears In their search for life may quail not
Strength for to-day, in house and home To practise forbearance sweetly; To scatter kind words and loving deeds, Still trusting in God completely.
Strength for to-day is all that we need,
As there never will be a to-inorrow; For to-morrow will prove but another to-day, With its measure of joy and sorrow.
My times are in Thy hand."—Ps. xxx., 15.
Father, I know that all my life Is portioned out for me,
And the changes that are sure to ccme, 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.
Wherever in the world I am, 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 Thy 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 spirit filled the more With grateful love to Thee- More careful-not to serve Thee much, But to please Thee perfectly.
There are briers 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 will appoints, There are no bonds for me;
For my inmost heart is taught "the truth" That makes Thy children " free;" And a life of self-renouncing love
Father, if Thou be willing, remove this cup from me: nevertheless not my will, but Thine, be done."-ST. LUKE xxii., 42.
O Lord my God, do Thou Thy holy will— I will lie still;
I will not stir, lest I forsake Thine arm, And break the charm
Which lulls me, clinging to my Father's breast, In perfect rest.
Wild Fancy, peace! thou must not me beguile With thy false smile :
I know thy flatteries and thy cheating ways; Be silent, Praise,
Blind guide with siren voice, and blinding all That hear thy call.
Come, self-devotion, high and pure, Thoughts that in thankfulness endure, Though dearest hopes are faithless found,
And dearest hearts are bursting round. Come, Resignation, spirit meek,
And let me kiss thy placid cheek, And read in thy pale eye, serene, Their blessing, who, by faith, can wean Their hearts from sense, and learn to love God only, and the joys above.
They say, who know the life divine, And upward gaze with eagle eyne, That by each golden crown on high, Rich with celestial jewelry,
Which for our Lord's redeem'd is set, There hangs a radiant coronet, All gemmed with pure and living light, Too dazzling for a sinner's sight, Prepared for virgin souls, and them Who seek the Martyr's diadem.
Nor deem, who to that bliss aspire, Must win their way through blood and fire. The writhings of a wounded heart Are fiercer than a foeman's dart. Oft in life's stillest shade reclining, In desolation unrepining, Without a hope on earth to find A mirror in an answering mind. Meek souls there are, who little dream Their daily strife an angel's theme, Or that the rod they take so calm, Shall prove in heaven a martyr's palm.
And there are souls that seem to dwell Above this earth-so rich a spell
Floats round their steps, where'er they move, From hopes fulfilled and mutual love. Such, if on high their thoughts are set, Nor in the stream the source forget. If prompt to quit the bliss they know, Following the Lamb where'er He go,
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