The dearest offering He can crave The only Son of His dear love? But we, like vexed unquiet sprites, In Life's long sickness evermore Our thoughts are tossing to and fro : We change our posture o'er and o'er, But cannot rest, nor cheat our woe. Were it not better to lie still, Let Him strike home, and bless the rod, Never so safe as when our will Yields undiscerned by all but God? Thy precious things, whate'er they be That haunt and vex thee, heart and brain, Look at the Cross, and thou shalt see How thou may'st turn them all to gain! Lovest thou praise? the Cross is shame : We of that altar would partake, -- But cannot quit the cost We cannot part with Heaven for Thee So wanderers ever fond and true Look homeward through the evening sky, The wanderer seeks his native bower, KEBLE. LIGHT AMID DARKNESS. "But unto you that fear my name, shall the Sun of Righteousness arise, with healing in His wings." SOMETIMES a light surprises The Christian as he sings; It is the Lord who rises With healing on His wings : When comforts are declining, He grants the soul again A season of clear shining To cheer it after rain. In holy contemplation We sweetly then pursue It can bring with it nothing Though vine nor fig-tree neither Their wonted fruit should bear,Though all the field should wither, Nor flocks nor herds be there; His praise shall tune my voice; WM. COWPER. PRACTICAL DEVOTION. "Beloved, if God so loved us, we ought also to love one another." FATHER of our feeble race! Wise, beneficent and kind! Or the busy walks of men, Lord what offering shall we bring By the melting eye expressed! Sympathy, at whose control, Sorrow leaves the wounded breast! Willing hands to lead the blind, Bind the wounded, feed the poor! Teach us, O Thou Heavenly King! JANE TAYLOR. GRACE AND GRATITUDE. LORD! Come too many gifts from Thee For us to mark each gift? Down streams Thy grace too plenteously Our spirits up to lift? Thy light would glorify our lot; Thyself besets our way: And yet Thine ingrates feel Thee not, And yet Thy pilgrims stray. Still sometimes glorious grows the road, Some sweet surprise our souls doth take Straight to the heavenly Throne : Some sudden blaze of bliss doth make The Lord's bright Presence known. Or midst some mighty woe awhile And strangely beams th' Eternal Smile Alas these visits rare and rude Unto Thy Holy Place! |