With Whom is no Variableness T fortifies my soul to know IT That, though I perish, Truth is so; That if I slip Thou dost not fall. FROM Shall I Look Back ROM some dim height of being, undescried, Shall I look back and trace the weary way By which my feet are journeying to-dayThe toilsome path that climbs the mountain-side Or leads into the valley, sun-denied ? Where through the darkness hapless wanderers stray, Unblessed, uncheered, ungladdened by a ray Of certitude, their errant step to guide? Shall I look back, and see the great things small; The toilsome path, God's training for my feet, The pains that never had been worth my tears? Will some great light of rapture, bathing all, Make by-gone woe seem joy: past bitter, sweet? Shall I look back and wonder at my fears? In June I Show You a Mystery FRIEND, your face I cannot see, Your voice I cannot hear, But for us both breaks at our feet The floodtide of the year; With fragrance, and with song, And so the mystery I show Is this, all simple-sweet; At yours and at my feet, As it at first would seem, We're near each other in the Lord; The miles are all a dream. -JOHN WHITE CHADWICK. Copyright, 1888, by John W. Chadwick. Scotch Hymn HERE are blossoms that hae budded, THE Been blighted i' the cauld, An' lammies that hae perished Because they left the fauld. Helpless weans like you and me. In the warld there's tribulation, But the warld it is bonnie, For our Father made it sae ; A Song of Summer HE ships glide in at the harbor's mouth, THE And the ships sail out to sea, And the wind that sweeps from the sunny South, It is sweet as sweet can be. There's a world of toil and a world of pains, The harvest waves in the breezy morn, And the men go The fulness comes to the tasselled corn And far on the hills by feet untrod, There are blossoms that scent the air; The breath grows faint on the dying lips, For oh, in the midst of the mournful years, The babe lies soft on the mother's breast, He giveth, He taketh, He knoweth best, And oh, when the soul is with trials tossed The ships sail over the harbor bar The ships sail in with the evening star MARGARET E. SANGSTER. |