« ПредишнаНапред »
My Soul And I.
Folly and fear are sisters twain:
One closing her eyes,
With spectral lies.
Know well, my soul, God's hand controls
Whate'er thou fearest, Round him in calmest music rolls
Whate'er thou hearest.
What to thee is shadow to Him is day,
And the end He knoweth, And not on a blind and aimless way
The spirit goeth.
Man sees no future—a phantom show
Is alone before him;
And flowers bloom o'er him.
Nothing before him, nothing behind:
We walk in faith
The rock beneath.
The Present—the Present, is all thou hast
For thy sure possessing;
Till he gives his blessing.
Why fear the night? why shrink from Death,
That phantom wan? There is nothing in Heaven or earth beneath
Save God and man.
My Soul And I.
Peopling Life's shadows we turn from Him
And from one another!
Save God and our brother!
Oh, restless spirit 1 wherefore strain
Beyond thy sphere ?—
Are now and here.
Back to thyself is measured well
All thou hast given:
His bliss thy heaven.
In life, in death, in dark and light
Thou art in God's care;
And He is there!
All which is real now remaineth
And fadeth never;
The soul forever.
Leaning on Him make with reverent meekness
His own thy will, And with strength from Him shall thy utter weakness
Life's task fulfil.
And that cloud itself, which now before thee
Lies dark in view.
Be stricken through.
My Soul And I.
And like meadow midst through Autumn's dawn
Let sunlight in.
Then of what is to be and of what is done
Why queriest thou?
And both are Now!
John Or. Whittier.
Archbishop Leighton thought," that in this world, the Christian's white robe would be very likely to be entangled and defiled, if he wore it too flowingly. Our only, safest way," said he, "is to gird up our affections wholly. When we come to the place of our rest, we may wear our long white robes in full length without disturbance : for no unclean thing is there : yea, the streets of that new Jerusalem are paved with gold."
About the river of life there is a wintry wind though heavenly sunshine: the Iris colours its agitation, the frost fixes upon its repose. Let us beware that our rest become not the rest of stones, which, so long as they are torrent tossed, and thunder stricken, maintain their majesty: but when the stream is silent, and the storm passed, suffer the grass to cover them, and the lichen to feed on them.
u And their nobles have sent their little ones to the waters: they came to the pits and found no water; they returned with their vessels empty." Jer xiv. 3.
When the youthful fever of the soul,
Is awakened in thee first,
To slake thy burning thirst;
And when dry and wasted like the springs
Sought by that little band,
Life's broken cisterns stand;
When the golden fruits that tempted thee,
Turn to ashes on the taste,
Like the mirage of the waste;
When faith darkens, and hopes vanish,
In the shade of coming years,
Or o'erflowing with thy tears;
Though the transient springs have failed thee,
Wilt thou among the mouldering stones
Wilt thou sit among the ruins,
With all words of cheer unspoken,
Till the golden bowl is broken?
The Wasted Fountains.
Up and onward! toward the East
Green oases thou shalt find,—
Than the pools thou leavest behind.
Life has import more inspiring
Than the fancies of thy youth;
It has labour, it has truth.
It has wrongs that may be righted,
Noble deeds that may be done;
Its great triumphs are unwon.
There is rising from its troubled depths,
A low, unceasing moan;
Other hearts beside thine own.
From strong limbs that should be chainless,
There are fetters to unbind:
There is light to give the blind;
There are crushed and broken spirits,
That electric thoughts may thrill;
By the might of one strong will.
A. C. Lynch.
Soike, by a mistake, call a person absent minded, when the mind shuts the door, pulls in the latch-string, and is wholly at home.