Often the thought comes o'er me,

Musing in sorrow lone, “What fate shall yet betide me,

Ere night's dark shades are gone?” Then cometh sudden brightness,

And my heart is glad again Awhile—yet clouds will gather,

Returning after rain.

Often I sadly ponder

On the Future's aspect drear ;
Its darkness haunts my spirit,

And fills my soul with fear.
Then speaks Thy Word, with healing,

Consolingly to me :-
Thus finds my heart contentment,
. And quiet rest in Thee.

Full oft sin's wounds, though hidden,

Arouse my bitter grief, Till Thou dost come to bind them,

And bring my heart relief.
I sink upon the journey,

In weariness and pain :
But Thou art near, to strengthen,

And raise me up again.

Thou Giver of all blessing,

My Shepherd! I would seek
To follow Thee at all times ;

But I am faint and weak.
O draw me on, and help me,

When all my strength is gone!
If Thou but carest for me,

I am no more alone.

It may be but a moment

Till the sorrow shall be past; And Thou wilt lead me homeward,

To the Father's House at last. Then shall Thy faithful guidance,

In these painful earthly days, Throughout the long “For Ever”

Be my song of thanks and praise. WORK IN THE LORD.

(DIE ARBEIT IN DEM HERRN.)

WHATE’ER thou doest in the Lord shall well succeed;

The glory His—the blessing all for thee:
He gives the right intention, and fulfils the deed.

In great and small things, He will ever be
Maker and Lord of all. With hearts in heaven above,

And hands upon our work--thus shall it stable prove.

There is no work so small before The Master's sight

That He doth not stand by, His help to lend,
That it may prosper; and to arm thee with His might,

And bring it all Himself to such an end,
That thou with joy the finished work may'st see:

Ask but His Aid in all—thus all shall perfect be.

He knoweth how in quiet rest the heart to hold,

If wearisome and hard the work appear :
In the cold work He lets thy spirit not grow cold;

He chaseth from the brow the lines of care :
He giveth patience, industry, and much more still ; !

And doth cach loving action with His Blessing fill.

And if He walks with thee, He scatters not thy might;

But, gathering all together, He doth shed Over thy handiwork a radiant, joy-clear light,

That so its weariness be banished: And for the work which by His help thou dost achieve,

From His own Hand thy soul the guerdon shall receive.

O blessèd life, to have Him ever in our sight :

To speak with Him at all times; and His Voice
To hear, refreshing soul and spirit, day and night!

Thus in His living Friendship to rejoice
With joy that to the world is mystery unknown,

As, also, is the ease with which our work is done.

O How many an hour of gladness

From our God have we received; And how many a grievous heart-wound

Has His healing touch relieved !

When the sun shone hotly o’er us—

When our hearts were weak and low, How hath He revived our spirit,

Wiped the moisture from our brow!

And, however long the warfare,

There is victory at last;
And He takes us to His Glory

When the pilgrimage is past.

Clad no more in pilgrim-garments

Shall we reach the Fatherland; But in robes of festal brightness

In His longed-for Presence stand.