And yet this mighty wind
Is all unseen by man,
And still it leaves no track behind,
For mortal eye to scan.
Whence do the breezes come?
And whither do they go ?
We know not of their secret home,
Or wherefore they should blow.
God's Holy Spirit, thus
Hidden from human sight, Comes like a rushing wind on us, With quickening power and might : He bids the lofty hearts
Bow down beneath His will, And life and energy imparts, Where all was dead and still.
And when His breezes blow
Upon the labouring breast,
How swiftly on our course we go
To reach the land of rest!
Like vessels on the sea,
How are we borne along!-
Borne by that Spirit's might, so free,
So wonderful, so strong?
Oh, blessed Spirit, come,
Unseen by mortal eye;
Make every heart thy secret home,
And with thy power be nigh;
Yea, bear us evermore
Through waves of earthly strife;
And waft us to the heavenly shore,
Of everlasting life!
As oft as I look on thy form, sweet flower,
So perfect, without a blot;
I think that thou tell'st of thy Maker's power,
And bid'st me forget Him not.
He endued with its wondrous virtue thy seed,
The form it assumed He chose ;
His refreshing dews on thy leaves are shed,
His sunshine thy colour bestows.
Then, whene'er thy bright blossom adorns my way, To heaven may it waft my thought;
May it speak in a still small voice and say,
CHARLOTTE ELIZABETH TONNA.
BELOVED, "it is well!"
God's ways are always right;
And love is o'er them all,
Though far above our sight.
Beloved, "it is well!"
Though deep and sore the smart,
He wounds who skills to bind,
And heal the broken heart.
Beloved, "it is well!"
Though sorrow clouds our way,
'Twill make the joy more dear
That ushers in the day.
Beloved, "it is well!"
The path that Jesus trod,
Though rough and dark it be,
It leads to heaven and God.
THE CHRISTIAN'S POLAR STAR.
POLAR-STAR of life's dark sea!
All unknowing how to steer,
Saviour, I would look to thee,
O'er the watery waste appear:
Let no cloud obscure thy light,
Shine encouragingly bright.
O'er the rolling billows shine,
Faith to thee her eye will turn,
Though the stormy night be mine,
If my beacon I discern;
If my guiding star appear,
I shall quickly lose my fear.
Though the foaming billows rise,
I shall scarce their threatening see,
If I turn me to the skies,
If I fix my gaze on thee:
Guiding star, still give thy light,
Lead me through the stormy night.
EDMESTON.
THE works of man inherit, as is just,
Their author's frailty, and return to dust
But Truth Divine for ever stands secure,
Its head as guarded as its base is sure;
Fixed in the rolling flood of endless years,
The pillar of the eternal plan appears,
The raving storm and dashing wave defies,
Built by the Architect that built the skies.
Hearts may be found that harbour at this hour
The love of Christ in all its quickening power,
And lips, unstained by folly or by strife,
Whose wisdom, drawn from the deep well of life,
Tastes of its healthful origin, and flows,
A sacred stream, to wash away our woes.
Oh days of heaven and nights of equal praise,
Serene and peaceful as those heavenly days,
When souls drawn upward in communion sweet,
Enjoy the stillness of some close retreat;
Discourse as if released and safe at home,
Of dangers past, and wonders yet to come;
And spread the sacred treasures of the breast
Upon the lap of covenanted rest.
HER's was a soul of fire that burned
Too soon for us its earthly tent;
But not too soon for her returned
To Him from whom it first was sent :
Grave! keep the ashes till redeemed from thee, This mortal puts on immortality.
CONFIDENCE IN GOD.
"My times are in thy hand."-Psalm xxxi, 15.
My times of sorrow and of joy,
Great God, are in thy hand;
My choicest comforts come from Thee,
And go at thy command.
If Thou should'st take them all away,
Yet would I not repine;
Before they were possessed by me,
They were entirely Thine.
Nor would I drop one murmuring word,
Though the whole world were gone;
But seek enduring happiness
In Thee, and Thee alone.
What is the world with all its store?
'Tis but a bitter sweet;
When I attempt to pluck the rose,
A piercing thorn I meet.
Here, perfect bliss can ne'er be found,
The honey's mixed with gall:
'Midst changing scenes and dying friends, Be Thou my all in all.
THE SAME SUBJECT.
Psalm xxxi. 15.
"My times are in thy hand,"
Lord, I would leave them there :
I know thy faithfulness and love,
And firmly trust thy care.
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