Call me not patient-the word doth not sound Fit for a sinner with mercies around, Patient! and who then am I to repine While the best gifts are eternally mine?
Say, is it strange I should sing on a bed, Which by the hand of Jehovah is spread ? Rather I bless it, for here, when I die, Sleep shall be sweet till I waken on high.
Careth the child in the school-house to roam, After her ear catcheth tidings of home? Waiteth the exile to grasp in his hand Weeds by the way to his own father-land?
So this bright world is unheeded by me, While from my chamber a fairer I see; So its glad light, as it falls on my way, Blesses, but never can lengthen my stay.
WE lead a gentle life below:
Our days that seem to pass,
Glide on and blend-before Thy throne, Thus spreads the sea of glass.
One image fills that crystal sea; One light o'er all doth shine: Yet every separate drop hath power That radiance to enshrine.
Not less in unity and light,
True brethren we abide ;
"Like drops of Hermon's dew," that still
Into each other slide.
Eternal glory, thanks and praise
To Thee, O God, to Thee, Who buildest all the peace of men, Upon that prime decree :
That he who loves the Lord his God, Should hold all creatures dear; And whoso fears his God, henceforth Should feel no baser fear.
Glory to God for ever,
From angels and from men, The Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, For evermore, Amen.
"My meditation of Him shall be sweet; I will be glad in the Lord."
I JOURNEY through a desert drear and wild, Yet is my heart by such sweet thoughts beguiled, Of Him on whom I lean, my strength, my stay, I can forgot the sorrows of the way.
Thoughts of His love-the root of every grace, Which finds in this poor heart a dwelling-place, The sunshine of my soul, than day more bright, And my calm pillow of repose by night.
Thoughts of His sojourn in this vale of tears, The tale of love unfolded in those years Of sinless suffering and patient grace, I love again and yet again to trace.
Thoughts of His glory-on the cross I gaze, And there behold its sad, yet healing rays; Beacon of hope, which lifted up on high, Illumes with heavenly light the tear-dimm'd eye.
Thoughts of His coming for that joyful day, In patient hope, I watch and wait and pray; The dawn draws nigh, the midnight shadows flee, Oh, what a sunrise will that Advent be!
Thus, while I journey on my Lord to meet, My thoughts and meditations are so sweet, Of Him on whom I lean, my strength, my stay, I can forget the sorrows of the way.
"Let my prayer be set forth as incense, and the lifting up of my hands as the morning and evening sacrifice."
Early in the morning will I lift up my hands unto Thee."
PHEN first thine eyes unveil, give Thy soul leave To do the like; our bodies but forerun
The spirit's duty; true hearts spread and heave Unto their God, as flowers do to the sun; Give Him thy first thoughts then, so shalt thou keep Him company all day, and in Him sleep.
Yet never sleep the sun up; prayer should
Dawn with the day; there are set awful hours "Twixt heaven and us; the manna was not good After sun-rising; far day sullies flowers: Rise to prevent the sun; sleep doth sin glut, And heaven's gate opens when the world's is shut.
Wake with thy fellow-creatures; note the hush And whispering among them. Not a spring Or leaf but hath his morning hymn; each bush And oak doth know, I Am.-Canst thou not sing? O leave thy cares and follies! go this way, And thou art sure to prosper all the day.
Serve God before the world; let Him not go Until thou hast a blessing; then resign The whole unto Him, and remember who Prevail'd by wrestling ere the sun did shine: Pour oil upon the stones, weep for thy sin, Then journey on, and have an eye to heaven.
« НазадПродовжити » |