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THE HERO. !

A CALM, still heart, all trustful

In pain, and care, and strife ;-
Resigned to God for ever,

For dying, and for life:-
Where, on this earth-land, shall we find
This perfect soul—this hero-mind?

“IF THOU CANST NOT DO MUCH, THOU

MUST KEEP QUIET.”

If thou can'st do but little, then keep still, in calm endu

rance :

Avoid, so far as in thee lies, what should be left undone. Wait patiently:-if in The Lord thy spirit resteth wholly, His Hand, in thee, and through thee, shall accomplish all

alone.

"IT CONCERNS. NOT THE STRANGER.”

I Am a pilgrim here; therefore 'tis nought to me
What, in this foreign world, the ways and customs be.

HOW TO BEAR SUFFERING ARIGHT.

WOULD'st thou a cross endure, as pleases God ?

Then, uncomplaining, bear it silently!
Look upon God alone, and not thy pain :

What He doth give thee, cannot evil be.

THE WISE BEE.

On every side I somewhat find that serveth me for food; My search is never vain, if all I seek be Heavenly good. The Bee is ne'er confounded by the flowers' mixed forms

unknown : It seeks and sucks, not poison, but the inner sweets

alone.

THE TRANQUIL SOUL IS RICH.

Thou fain would'st have, now this, now that';

Yet art thou still unsatisfied.
He hath The Giver, with the gifts,

Who calmly can in God abide.

ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS.”

All is not good, which outwardly so seemeth ;

All is not ill, which thou so reckonest !
His work is true, who seeks God's pleasure only :

All other must be worthless, at the best.

THE PURGATORY OF LOVE.

Love is a searching Fire, that lets no dross remain :

Self-seeking all is purged away in its keen blast. Give to that flame free, open space; and fear no pain:

It shall become a life of joy to thee at last.

JESUS TO THE SOUL.

WITHIN thyself thou dost retreat, to bear thy load alone : Am I not ever near-canst thou not tell it all to Me? Would'st thou relieve thyself, O thou poor, feeble,

helpless one? I would so gladly help thee ;-only open-hearted be !

“SOON, SOON!”

Yet a little while of sorrow;

Soon shall end the toil and strife :
Yet a little pain and trial ;

Soon sweet Death shall bring new Life.
Yet a little time of longing ; --

To the Goal thou soon shalt come :
Hold out for a little longer ;-

Soon thy heart shall reach its Home.
Yet a little; yet a little !

Soon shall come the blessed Day,
When The King of Peace will bear thee

To His realms of Peace for aye !

“ ABOVE THE CLOUDS BLOWS NO WIND.”

How blessed is the soul that in retirement can abide,

And riseth unto God, above all happiness and pain ! It standeth fast and still, through all Earth's changes that

betide; And presses on, through death, the true and perfect

Life to gain.

EVER READY.

PERCHANCE this present hour may be the last for me :
Therefore, my soul all ready in my hands must be ;
That I, when Jesus comes, in peaceful trust may say,
“There, Jesus, in Thy Hand my spirit now I lay."

WHAT IS MELTED, FLOWS EASILY

TOGETHER.

The soul, in sorrow's crucible, is softened and brought

low;

And, like the yielding ore, becometh molten in the heat :
Till God at length flows through it, and the soul in God

can flow :
Then doth His Grace the bitter anguish of the Cross

make sweet.

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FOOD ON THE JOURNEY.

The food is self-denial; and the daily bread is prayer :
When one or other faileth us, true hunger we must bear.

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