Chapter I: Wouldn't (2)

"Allah!" was all night long the cry of one oppressed with care,
Till softened was his heart, and sweet became his lips with prayer.
Then near the subtle tempter stole, and spake:
"Fond babbler, cease!
For not one 'Here am I' has God e'er sent to give thee peace."
With sorrow sank the suppliant's soul and all his senses fled.
But lo! at midnight, the good angel, Chiser, came, and said:
"What ails thee now, my child, and why art thou afraid to pray?
And why thy former love dost thou repent? declare and say."
"Ah!" cries he, "never once spake God to me, 'Here am I, son.'
Cast off methinks I am, and warned far from his gracious throne."
To whom the angel answered, "Hear the word from God I bear:
'Go tell,' he said, 'yon mourner, sunk in sorrow and despair,
Each "Lord, appear!" thy lips pronounce contains my "Here am I";
A special messenger I send beneath thine every sigh;
Thy love is but a guerdon of the love I bear to thee.
And sleeping in thy "Come, O Lord!" there lies "Here, son!" from me.'"

--Oriental, tr. by William Rounseville Alger.

He prayeth well who loveth well
Both man and bird and beast.
He prayeth best who loveth best
All things, both great and small;
For the dear God who loveth us
He made and loveth all.

--Samuel Taylor Coleridge.

ADORATION

I love my God, but with no love of mine,
For I have none to give;
I love thee, Lord, but all the love is thine
For by thy love I live.
I am as nothing, and rejoice to be
Emptied and lost and swallowed up in thee.

Thou, Lord, alone art all thy children need,
And there is none beside;
From thee the streams of blessedness proceed,
In thee the blest abide--
Fountain of life and all-abounding grace,
Our source, our center, and our dwelling place.

--Madame Guyon.

WALKING WITH GOD

O Master, let me walk with thee
In lowly paths of service free;
Tell me thy secret; help me bear
The strain of toil, the fret of care.

Help me the slow of heart to move
By some clear, winning word of love;
Teach me the wayward feet to stay,
And guide them in the homeward way.

Teach me thy patience! still with Thee
In closer, dearer company:
In work that keeps faith sweet and strong,
In trust that triumphs over wrong.

In hope that sends a shining ray
Far down the future's broadening way;
In peace that only thou canst give,
With thee, O Master, let me live.

--Washington Gladden.

There was a man who prayed
For wisdom that he might
Sway men from sinful ways
And lead them into light.
Each night he knelt and asked the Lord
To let him guide the sinful horde.
And every day he rose again,
To idly drift along,
One of the many common men
Who form the common throng.

GRANTED OR DENIED

To long with all our longing powers,
And have the wish denied;
To urge and strain our force in vain
Against the unresting tide
Of fate and circumstance, which still
Baffles and beats and thwarts our will;

To reach the goal toward which we strove
All the long way and hard;
To win the prize which, to our eyes,
Seemed life's one best reward--
Love's rose, Fame's laurel, olived Peace,
The gold-fruit of Hesperides--

And then to find the prize all vain,
The joys all empty made--
To taste the sting in each sweet thing,
To watch Love's roses fade,
The fruit to ashes turn, the gold
To worthless dross within our hold!

Now which has most of grief and pain,
Which is the worse to bear:
The joy we crave and never have,
Or the curse of the granted prayer?
The baffled wish or the bitter rue--
Could our hearts choose between the two?

O will of God, thou blessed will!
Which, like a balmed air,
The breath of souls about us rolls,
Touching us everywhere,
Imparting, like a soft caress,
Healing, and help, and tenderness,

O will of God, be thou our will!
Then, come or joy or pain,
Made one with thee it cannot be
That we shall wish in vain,
And, whether granted or denied,
Our hearts shall be all satisfied.

--Susan Coolidge.

OUT OF TOUCH

Only a smile, yes, only a smile
That a woman o'erburdened with grief
Expected from you; 'twould have given relief,
For her heart ached sore the while;
But weary and cheerless she went away,
Because, as it happened, that very day
You were "out of touch" with your Lord.

Only a word, yes, only a word,
That the Spirit's small voice whispered "Speak";
But the worker passed onward unblessed and weak
Whom you were meant to have stirred
To courage, devotion, and love anew,
Because when the message came to you
You were "out of touch" with your Lord.

Only a note, yes, only a note
To a friend in a distant land.
The Spirit said "Write," but then you had planned
Some different work, and you thought
It mattered little. You did not know
'Twould have saved a soul from sin and woe;
You were "out of touch" with your Lord.

Only a song, yes, only a song
That the Spirit said "Sing to-night;
Thy voice is thy Master's by purchased right";
But you thought, "'Mid this motley throng
I care not to sing of the city of gold"--
And the heart that your words might have reached grew cold;
You were "out of touch" with your Lord.

Only a day, yes, only a day!
But oh, can you guess, my friend,
Where the influence reaches, and where it will end
Of the hours that you frittered away?
The Master's command is "Abide in me"
And fruitless and vain will your service be
If "out of touch" with your Lord.

--Jean H. Watson.

Prayer is Innocence's friend; and willingly flieth incessant
'Twixt the earth and the sky, the carrier-pigeon of heaven.

--Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.

We may question with wand of science,
Explain, decide, and discuss;
But only in meditation
The Mystery speaks to us.

--John Boyle O'Reilly.

THE VALLEY OF SILENCE

I walk down the Valley of Silence,
Down the dim, voiceless valley alone!
And I hear not the fall of a footstep
Around me--save God's and my own!
And the hush of my heart is as holy
As hovers where angels have flown.

Long ago was I weary of voices
Whose music my heart could not win;
Long ago was I weary of noises
That fretted my soul with their din;
Long ago was I weary of places
Where I met but the human and sin.

And still did I pine for the perfect,
And still found the false with the true;
I sought 'mid the human for heaven,
But caught a mere glimpse of the blue;
And I wept when the clouds of the world veiled
Even _that_ glimpse from my view.

And I toiled on, heart-tired of the human,
And I moaned 'mid the mazes of men,
Till I knelt, long ago, at an altar,
And heard a Voice call me. Since then
I walk down the Valley of Silence
That lies far beyond mortal ken.

Do you ask what I found in the Valley?
'Tis my trysting place with the Divine.
When I fell at the feet of the Holy,
And about me a voice said, "Be mine,"
There arose from the depths of my spirit
An echo: "My heart shall be thine."

Do you ask how I live in the Valley?
I weep, and I dream, and I pray;
But my tears are as sweet as the dew-drops
That fall on the roses in May;
And my prayer, like a perfume from censer,
Ascendeth to God night and day.

In the hush of the Valley of Silence,
I dream all the songs that I sing;
And the music floats down the dim valley
Till each finds a word for a wing,
That to men, like the doves of the deluge
The message of peace they may bring.

But far out on the deep there are billows
That never shall break on the beach;
And I have heard songs in the silence
That never shall float into speech;
And I have had dreams in the valley
Too lofty for language to reach.

And I have seen thoughts in the valley--
Ah, me! how my spirit was stirred!
And they wear holy veils on their faces--
Their footsteps can scarcely be heard;
They pass through the valley like virgins
Too pure for the touch of a word.

Do you ask me the place of the Valley,
Ye hearts that are harrowed by care?
It lieth afar, between mountains,
And God and his angels are there;
And one is the dark Mount of Sorrow,
The other, the bright Mount of Prayer.

--Abram Joseph Ryan.

HELP THOU MY UNBELIEF

Because I seek thee not O seek thou me!
Because my lips are dumb O hear the cry
I do not utter as thou passest by,
And from my lifelong bondage set me free!
Because, content, I perish far from thee,
O seize me, snatch me from my fate and try
My soul in thy consuming fire! Draw nigh
And let me, blinded, thy salvation see.

If I were pouring at thy feet my tears,
If I were clamoring to see thy face,
I should not need thee, Lord, as now I need,
Whose dumb, dead soul knows neither hopes nor fears,
Nor dreads the outer darkness of this place.
_Because_ I seek not, pray not, give thou heed.

PHARISEE AND PUBLICAN

Two went to pray? O, rather say
One went to brag, the other to pray;
One stands up close and treads on high,
Where the other dares not lend his eye;
One nearer to God's altar trod,
The other to the altar's God.

--Richard Crashaw.

A MOMENT IN THE MORNING

A moment in the morning, ere the cares of the day begin,
Ere the heart's wide door is open for the world to enter in,
Ah, then, alone with Jesus, in the silence of the morn,
In heavenly sweet communion, let your duty-day be born.
In the quietude that blesses with a prelude of repose
Let your soul be smoothed and softened, as the dew revives the rose.

A moment in the morning take your Bible in your hand,
And catch a glimpse of glory from the peaceful promised land:
It will linger still before you when you seek the busy mart,
And like flowers of hope will blossom into beauty in your heart.
The precious words, like jewels, will glisten all the day
With a rare effulgent glory that will brighten all the way;
When comes a sore temptation, and your feet are near a snare,
You may count them like a rosary and make each one a prayer.

A moment in the morning--a moment, if no more--
Is better than an hour when the trying day is o'er.
'Tis the gentle dew from heaven, the manna for the day;
If you fail to gather early--alas! it melts away.
So, in the blush of morning, take the offered hand of love,
And walk in heaven's pathway and the peacefulness thereof.

--Arthur Lewis Tubbs.

AN INVITATION TO PRAYER

Come to the morning prayer,
Come, let us kneel and pray;
Prayer is the Christian pilgrim's staff
To walk with God all day.

At noon, beneath the Rock
Of Ages rest and pray;
Sweet is the shadow from the heat
When the sun smites by day.

At eve, shut to the door,
Round the home altar pray;
And finding there "the house of God"
At "heaven's gate" close the day.

When midnight seals our eyes,
Let each in spirit say,
"I sleep, but my heart waketh, Lord,
With thee to watch and pray."

--James Montgomery.

SELFISH PRAYER

How we, poor players on life's little stage,
Thrust blindly at each other in our rage,
Quarrel and fret, yet rashly dare to pray
To God to keep us on our selfish way.

We think to move him with our prayer and praise
To serve our needs, as in the old Greek days
Their gods came down and mingled in the fight
With mightier arms the flying foe to smite.

The laughter of those gods pealed down to man;
For heaven was but earth's upper story then,
Where goddesses about an apple strove
And the high gods fell humanly in love.

_We_ own a God whose presence fills the sky;
Whose sleepless eyes behold the worlds roll by;
Whose faithful memory numbers, one by one,
The sons of man, and calls them each his son.

--Louise Chandler Moulton.

To make rough places plain, and crooked straight;
To help the weak; to envy not the strong;
To make the earth a sweeter dwelling place,
In little ways, or if we may, in great,
And in the world to help the heavenly song,
We pray, Lord Jesus, grant to us thy grace!

THE TWO RELIGIONS

A woman sat by a hearthside place
Reading a book, with a pleasant face,
Till a child came up, with a childish frown,
And pushed the book, saying, "Put it down."
Then the mother, slapping his curly head,
Said, "Troublesome child, go off to bed;
A great deal of Christ's life I must know
To train you up as a child should go."
And the child went off to bed to cry,
And denounce religion--by and by.

Another woman bent over a book
With a smile of joy and an intent look,
Till a child came up and jogged her knee,
And said of the book, "Put it down--take me."
Then the mother sighed as she stroked his head,
Saying softly, "I never shall get it read:
But I'll try by loving to learn His will,
And his love into my child instill."
That child went to bed without a sigh,
And will love religion--by and by.

A LIFE HID WITH CHRIST

I have a life with Christ to live;
But ere I live it must I wait
Till learning can clear answer give
Of this or that book's date?

I have a life in Christ to live,
I have a death in Christ to die;
And must I wait till science give
All doubts a full reply?

Nay, rather, while the sea of doubt
Is raging wildly round about,
Questioning of life and death and sin,
Let me but creep within
Thy fold, O Christ, and at thy feet
Take but the lowest seat,
And hear thine awful voice repeat
In gentlest accents, heavenly sweet,
"Come unto me and rest;
Believe me, and be blest."

--John Campbell Shairp.

Still raise for good the supplicating voice,
But leave to Heaven the measure and the choice.

--Dr. Samuel Johnson.

PRAY ALWAYS

Go when the morning shineth,
Go when the noon is bright,
Go when the eve declineth,
Go in the hush of night;
Go with pure mind and feeling,
Fling earthly thoughts away,
And, in thy chamber kneeling,
Do thou in secret pray.

Remember all who love thee,
All who are loved by thee;
Pray, too, for those who hate thee,
If any such there be.
Then for thyself in meekness
A blessing humbly claim,
And link with thy petition
The great Redeemer's name.

Or, if 'tis e'er denied thee
In solitude to pray,
Should holy thoughts come o'er thee
When friends are round thy way,
E'en then the silent breathing
Of thy spirit, raised above,
May reach His throne of glory
Who is mercy, truth and love.

Oh! not a joy or blessing
With this can we compare:
The power that he hath given us
To pour our hearts in prayer.
Whene'er thou pin'st in sadness
Before His footstool fall,
And remember in thy gladness
His grace who gave thee all.

--Jane C. Simpson.

More things are wrought by prayer
Than this world dreams of. Wherefore let thy voice
Rise like a fountain for me night and day.
For what are men better than sheep or goats,
That nourish a blind life within the brain,
If, knowing God, they lift not hands of prayer,
Both for themselves and those who call them friend.
For so the whole round earth is every way
Bound by gold chains about the feet of God.

--Alfred Tennyson.

ENOCH

He walked with God, by faith, in solitude,
At early dawn or tranquil eventide;
In some lone leafy place he would abide
Till his whole being was with God imbued.
He walked with God amid the multitude;
No threats or smiles could his firm soul divide
From that beloved presence at his side
Whose still small voice silenced earth's noises rude.
Boldly abroad to men he testified
How "the Lord cometh" and the judgment brings;
Gently at home he trained his "sons and daughters";
Till, praying, a bright chariot he espied
Sent to translate him, as on angels' wings,
To walk with God beside heaven's "living waters."

--R. Wilton.

A WORKER'S PRAYER

Lord, speak to me, that I may speak
In living echoes of thy tone;
As thou hast sought, so let me seek
Thy erring children, lost and lone.

Oh, teach me, Lord, that I may teach
The precious things thou dost impart;
And wing my words that they may reach
The hidden depths of many a heart.

Oh, give thine own sweet rest to me,
That I may speak with soothing power
A word in season, as from thee,
To weary ones in needful hour.

Oh, use me, Lord, use even me,
Just as thou wilt, and when and where;
Until thy blessed face I see,
Thy rest, thy joy, thy glory share.

God answers prayer--
Answers always, everywhere,
I may cast my anxious care,
Burdens I could never bear,
On the God who heareth prayer.

SUBMISSION AND REST

The camel, at the close of day
Kneels down upon the sandy plain
To have his burden lifted off
And rest again.

My soul, thou too should to thy knees
When daylight draweth to a close,
And let thy Master lift the load
And grant repose.

Else how couldst thou to-morrow meet,
With all to-morrow's work to do,
If thou thy burden all the night
Dost carry through?

The camel kneels at break of day
To have his guide replace his load;
Then rises up anew to take
The desert road.

So thou shouldst kneel at morning's dawn
That God may give thee daily care;
Assured that he no load too great
Will make thee bear.

TAKE TIME TO BE HOLY

Take time to be holy;
Speak oft with thy Lord;
Abide in him always,
And feed on his word;
Make friends of God's children,
Help those who are weak,
Forgetting in nothing
His blessing to seek.

Take time to be holy;
The world rushes on;
Spend much time in secret
With Jesus alone;
By looking at Jesus
Like him thou shalt be;
Thy friends in thy conduct
His likeness shall see.

Take time to be holy;
Let him be thy Guide,
And run not before him
Whatever betide;
In joy or in sorrow
Still follow thy Lord,
And, looking to Jesus,
Still trust in his word.

Take time to be holy;
Be calm in thy soul;
Each thought and each motive
Beneath his control;
Thus led by his Spirit
To fountains of love,
Thou soon shalt be fitted
For service above.

--W. D. Longstaff.

PRAYER FOR STRENGTH

Father, before thy footstool kneeling,
Once more my heart goes up to thee,
For aid, for strength, to thee appealing,
Thou who alone canst succor me.

Hear me! for heart and flesh are failing,
My spirit yielding in the strife;
And anguish wild as unavailing
Sweeps in a flood across my life.

Help me to stem the tide of sorrow;
Help me to bear thy chastening rod;
Give me endurance; let me borrow
Strength from thy promise, O my God!

Not mine the grief which words may lighten;
Not mine the tears of common woes;
The pang with which my heart-strings tighten
Only the All-seeing One may know.

And I am weak, my feeble spirit
Shrinks from life's task in wild dismay;
Yet not that thou that task wouldst spare it,
My Father, do I dare to pray.

Into my soul thy might infusing,
Strengthening my spirit by thine own;
Help me, all other aid refusing,
To cling to thee, and thee alone.

And O in my exceeding weakness
Make thy strength perfect; thou art strong:
Aid me to do thy will with meekness,
Thou to whom all my powers belong.

O let me feel that thou art near me;
Close to thy side, I shall not fear;
Hear me, O Strength of Israel, hear me,
Sustain and aid! in mercy hear.

LIGHT

Lord, send thy light,
Not only in the darkest night,
But in the shadowy, dim twilight,
Wherein my strained and aching sight
Can scarce distinguish wrong from right,
Then send thy light.

Teach me to pray.
Not only in the morning gray,
Or when the moonbeam's silver ray
Falls on me, but at high noonday,
When pleasure beckons me away,
Teach me to pray.

--Constance Milman.

OUR BURDEN BEARER

The little sharp vexations
And the briars that cut the feet,
Why not take all to the Helper
Who has never failed us yet?
Tell him about the heartache,
And tell him the longings too,
Tell him the baffled purpose
When we scarce know what to do.
Then, leaving all our weakness
With the One divinely strong,
Forget that we bore the burden
And carry away the song.

--Phillips Brooks.

My proud foe at my hands to take no boon will choose.
Thy prayers are that one gift which he cannot refuse.

--Richard Chenevix Trench.

ANSWER TO PRAYER

Man's plea to man is, that he nevermore
Will beg, and that he never begged before;
Man's plea to God is, that he did obtain
A former suit, and therefore sues again.
How good a God we serve, that, when we sue,
Makes his old gifts examples of his new.

--Francis Quarles.

TALHAIRN'S PRAYER

Grant me, O God, thy merciful protection;
And, in protection, give me strength, I pray;
And, in my strength, O grant me wise discretion;
And, in discretion, make me ever just;
And, with my justice, may I mingle love,
And, with my love, O God, the love of thee;
And, with the love of thee, the love of all.

--From the Welsh.

O sad estate
Of human wretchedness! so weak is man,
So ignorant and blind, that did not God
Sometimes withhold in mercy what we ask,
We should be ruined at our own request.

--Hannah More.

Why win we not at once what we in prayer require?
That we may learn great things as greatly to desire.

--Richard Chenevix Trench.

JOY

PRAISE, CHEERFULNESS, HAPPINESS

THE SECRET OF A HAPPY DAY

Just to let thy Father do
What he will;
Just to know that he is true
And be still.
Just to follow hour by hour
As He leadeth;
Just to draw the moment's power
As it needeth.
Just to trust Him, this is all!
Then the day will surely be
Peaceful, whatsoe'er befall,
Bright and blessed, calm and free.

Just to let Him speak to thee
Through his word,
Watching that his voice may be
Clearly heard.
Just to tell Him every thing
As it rises,
And at once to him to bring
All surprises.
Just to listen, and to stay
Where you cannot miss His voice,
This is all! and thus to-day,
Communing, you shall rejoice.

Just to ask Him what to do
All the day,
And to make you quick and true
To obey.
Just to know the needed grace
He bestoweth,
Every bar of time and place
Overfloweth.
Just to take thy orders straight
From the Master's own command.
Blessed day! when thus we wait
Always at our Sovereign's hand.

Just to recollect his love,
Always true;
Always shining from above,
Always new.
Just to recognize its light,
All-enfolding;
Just to claim its present might,
All-upholding.
Just to know it as thine own,
That no power can take away;
Is not this enough alone
For the gladness of the day?

Just to trust, and yet to ask
Guidance still;
Take the training or the task
As He will.
Just to take the joy or pain
As He lends it;
Just to take the loss or gain
As he sends it
He who formed thee for his praise
Will not miss the gracious aim;
So to-day, and all thy days,
Shall be molded for the same.

Just to leave in His dear hand
_Little_ things;
All we cannot understand,
All that stings.
Just to let Him take the care
Sorely pressing,
Finding all we let him bear
Changed to blessing.
This is all! and yet the way
Marked by Him who loves thee best;
Secret of a happy day,
Secret of his promised rest.

--Frances Ridley Havergal.

GOD MEANS US TO BE HAPPY

God means us to be happy;
He fills the short-lived years
With loving, tender mercies--
With smiles as well as tears.
Flowers blossom by the pathway,
Or, withering, they shed
Their sweetest fragrance over
The bosoms of our dead.

God filled the earth with beauty;
He touched the hills with light;
He crowned the waving forest
With living verdure bright;
He taught the bird its carol,
He gave the wind its voice,
And to the smallest insect
Its moment to rejoice.

What life hath not its blessing?
Who hath not songs to sing,
Or grateful words to utter,
Or wealth of love to bring?
Tried in affliction's furnace
The gold becomes more pure--
So strong doth sorrow make us,
So patient to endure.

No way is dark and dreary
If God be with us there;
No danger can befall us
When sheltered by his care.
Why should our eyes be blinded
To all earth's glorious bloom?
Why sit we in the shadow
That falls upon the tomb?

Look up and catch the sunbeams!
See how the day doth dawn!
Gather the scented roses
That grow beside the thorn!
God's pitying love doth seek us;
He leads us to his rest;
And from a thousand pathways
He chooses what is best.

THE PICTURE OF A HAPPY MAN

How blest is he, though ever crossed,
That can all crosses blessings make;
That finds himself ere he be lost,
And lose that found for virtue's sake.

Yea, blest is he, in life and death,
That fears not death nor loves this life;
That sets his will his wit beneath;
And hath continual peace in strife.

That naught observes but what preserves
His mind and body from offense;
That neither courts nor seasons serves,
And learns without experience.

That loves his body for his soul,
Soul for his mind, his mind for God,
God for himself, and doth control
Content, if it with him be odd.

That rests in action, acting naught
But what is good in deed and show;
That seeks but God within his thought,
And thinks but God to love and know.

That lives too low for envy's looks,
And yet too high for loathed contempt;
That makes his friends good men and books
And naught without them doth attempt.

That ever lives a light to all,
Though oft obscured like the sun;
And, though his fortunes be but small,
Yet Fortune doth not seek nor shun.

That never looks but grace to find,
Nor seeks for knowledge to be known;
That makes a kingdom of his mind,
Wherein, with God, he reigns alone.

This man is great with little state,
Lord of the world epitomized,
Who with staid front outfaceth Fate
And, being empty, is sufficed--
Or is sufficed with little, since (at least)
He makes his conscience a continual feast.

--John Davies, of Hereford.

THANKS FOR PAIN

My God, I thank thee who hast made
The earth so bright;
So full of splendor and of joy,
Beauty and light;
So many glorious things are here,
Noble and right.

I thank thee, too, that thou hast made
Joy to abound;
So many gentle thoughts and deeds
Circling us round;
That in the darkest spot of earth
Some love is found.

I thank thee more that all our joy
Is touched with pain;
That shadows fall on brightest hours;
That thorns remain;
So that earth's bliss may be our guide
And not our chain.

I thank thee, Lord, that thou hast kept
The best in store;
We have enough, yet not too much,
To long for more;
A yearning for a deeper peace
Not known before.

I thank thee, Lord, that here our souls
Though amply blest,
Can never find, although they seek,
A perfect rest;
Nor ever shall until they lean
On Jesus' breast.

--Adelaide Anne Procter.

THE RIDICULOUS OPTIMIST

There was once a man who smiled
Because the day was bright,
Because he slept at night,
Because God gave him sight
To gaze upon his child;
Because his little one,
Could leap and laugh and run;
Because the distant sun
Smiled on the earth he smiled.

He smiled because the sky
Was high above his head,
Because the rose was red,
Because the past was dead!
He never wondered why
The Lord had blundered so
That all things have to go
The wrong way, here below
The overarching sky.

He toiled, and still was glad
Because the air was free,
Because he loved, and she
That claimed his love and he
Shared all the joys they had!
Because the grasses grew,
Because the sweet winds blew,
Because that he could hew
And hammer, he was glad.

Because he lived he smiled,
And did not look ahead
With bitterness or dread,
But nightly sought his bed
As calmly as a child.
And people called him mad
For being always glad
With such things as he had,
And shook their heads and smiled.

--Samuel Ellsworth Kiser.

The soul contains a window where
It may receive the sun and air,
But some with self the window cloy,
And shut out all the light and joy.

--Nixon Waterman.

PRAISE

O Thou, whose bounty fills my cup
With every blessing meet!
I give thee thanks for every drop--
The bitter and the sweet.

I praise Thee for the desert road,
And for the riverside;
For all thy goodness hath bestowed,
And all thy grace denied.

I thank Thee for both smile and frown,
And for the gain and loss;
I praise thee for the future crown
And for the present cross.

I thank Thee for the wing of love
Which stirred my worldly nest;
And for the stormy clouds which drove
Me, trembling, to thy breast.

I bless Thee for the glad increase,
And for the waning joy;
And for this strange, this settled peace,
Which nothing can destroy.

--Jane Crewdson.

THANKSGIVING

Lord, for the erring thought
Not into evil wrought,
Lord, for the wicked will,
Betrayed and baffled still,
For the heart from itself kept,
Our thanksgiving accept.

For the ignorant hopes that were
Broken to our blind prayer;
For pain, death, sorrow, sent
Unto our chastisement;
For all loss of seeming good,
Quicken our gratitude.

--William Dean Howells.

RING, HAPPY BELLS

Ring out the grief that saps the mind,
For those that here we see no more;
Ring out the feud of rich and poor,
Ring in redress to all mankind.

Ring out a slowly-dying cause,
And ancient forms of party strife;
Ring in the nobler modes of life,
With sweeter manners, purer laws.

Ring out the want, the care, the sin,
The faithless coldness of the times;
Ring out, ring out my mournful rhymes,
But ring the fuller minstrel in.

Ring out false pride in place and blood,
The civic slander and the spite;
Ring in the love of truth and right
Ring in the common love of good.

Ring out old shapes of foul disease;
Ring out the narrowing lust of gold;
Ring out the thousand wars of old,
Ring in the thousand years of peace.

Ring in the valiant man and free,
The larger heart, the kindlier hand;
Ring out the darkness of the land,
Ring in the Christ that is to be.

--Alfred Tennyson.

THE CLEAR VISION

Break forth, my lips, in praise, and own
The wiser love severely kind;
Since, richer for its chastening grown,
I see, whereas I once was blind.
The world, O Father, hath not wronged
With loss the life by thee prolonged;
But still, with every added year,
More beautiful thy works appear.

As thou hast made thy world without,
Make thou more fair my world within;
Shine through its lingering clouds of doubt;
Rebuke its haunting shapes of sin;
Fill, brief or long, my granted span
Of life with love to thee and man;
Strike when thou wilt the hour of rest.
But let my last days be my best.

--John Greenleaf Whittier.

Then let us smile when skies are gray,
And laugh at stormy weather!
And sing life's lonesome times away;
So--worry and the dreariest day
Will find an end together!

Paul and Silas in their prison
Sang of Christ the Lord arisen;
And an earthquake's arm of might
Broke their dungeon gates at night.

--Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.

SCATTER SUNSHINE

In a world where sorrow ever will be known,
Where are found the needy, and the sad and lone;
How much joy and comfort we can all bestow
If we scatter sunshine everywhere we go.

Slightest actions often meet the sorest needs,
For the world wants daily little kindly deeds;
Oh, what care and sorrow we may help remove,
With our songs and courage, sympathy and love.

When the days are gloomy, sing some happy song,
Meet the world's repining with a courage strong;
Go, with faith undaunted, through the ills of life,
Scatter smiles and sunshine o'er its toil and strife.

--Lanta Wilson Smith.

SOWING JOY

I met a child, and kissed it; who shall say
I stole a joy in which I had no part?
The happy creature from that very day
Hath felt the more his little human heart.
Now when I pass he runs away and smiles,
And tries to seem afraid with pretty wiles.
I am a happier and a richer man,
Since I have sown this new joy in the earth;
'Tis no small thing for us to reap stray mirth
In every sunny wayside where we can.
It is a joy to me to be a joy
Which may in the most lowly heart take root;
And it is gladness to that little boy
To look out for me at the mountain foot.

--Frederick William Faber.

Sow thou sorrow and thou shalt reap it;
Sow thou joy and thou shalt keep it.

--Richard Watson Gilder.

A LANCASHIRE DOXOLOGY

(Written in May, 1863, when cotton came to Lancashire, enabling the mills to open after being long closed. The suffering, grateful women sang the Doxology.)

"Praise God from whom all blessings flow."
Praise Him who sendeth joy and woe.
The Lord who takes--the Lord who gives--
O praise him, all that dies, and lives.

He opens and he shuts his hand,
But why, we cannot understand.
Pours and dries up his mercies' flood,
And yet is still All-perfect Good.

We fathom not the mighty plan,
The mystery of God and man;
We women, when afflictions come,
We only suffer and are dumb.

And when, the tempest passing by,
He gleams out, sun-like, through our sky,
We look up and, through black clouds riven,
We recognize the smile of Heaven.

Ours is no wisdom of the wise.
We have no deep philosophies;
Childlike we take both kiss and rod,
For he who loveth knoweth God.

--Dinah Maria Mulock Craik.

VIA CRUCIS, VIA LUCIS

Through night to light! And though to mortal eyes
Creation's face a pall of horror wear,
Good cheer! good cheer! the gloom of midnight flies;
Then shall a sunrise follow, mild and fair.

Through storm to calm! And though his thunder car
The rumbling tempest drive through earth and sky,
Good cheer! good cheer! The elemental war
Tells that the blessed healing hour is nigh.

Through frost to spring! And though the biting blast
Of Eurus stiffen nature's juicy veins,
Good cheer! good cheer! When winter's wrath is past,
Soft-murmuring spring breathes sweetly o'er the plains.

Through strife to peace! And though with bristling front
A thousand frightful deaths encompass thee,
Good cheer! good cheer! brave thou the battle's brunt,
For the peace-march and song of victory.

Through toil to sleep! And though the sultry noon
With heavy drooping wing oppress thee now,
Good cheer! good cheer! the cool of evening soon
Shall lull to sweet repose thy weary brow.

Through cross to crown! And though thy spirit's life
Trials untold assail with giant strength,
Good cheer! good cheer! soon ends the bitter strife,
And thou shalt reign in peace with Christ at length.

Through woe to joy! And though at morn thou weep,
And though the midnight find thee weeping still,
Good cheer! good cheer! the Shepherd loves his sheep;
Resign thee to the watchful Father's will.

--Rosegarten, tr. by Charles Timothy Brooks.

Talk Happiness. The world is sad enough
Without your woes. No path is wholly rough;
Look for the places that are smooth and clear,
And speak of those to rest the weary ear
Of earth, so hurt by one continuous strain
Of human discontent and grief and pain.

SERVE GOD AND BE CHEERFUL

Serve God and be cheerful. Make brighter
The brightness that falls to thy lot;
The rare, or the daily sent, blessing
Profane not with gloom or with doubt.

Serve God and be cheerful. Each sorrow
Is--with thy will in God's--for the best.
O'er the cloud hangs the rainbow. To-morrow
Will see the blue sky in the west.

Serve God and be cheerful. Look upward!
God's countenance scatters the gloom;
And the soft summer light of his heaven
Shines over the cross and the tomb.

Serve God and be cheerful. The wrinkles
Of age we may take with a smile;
But the wrinkles of faithless foreboding
Are the crow's-feet of Beelzebub's guile.

Serve God and be cheerful. The winter
Rolls round to the beautiful spring.
And o'er the green grave of the snowdrift
The nest-building robins will sing.

Serve God and be cheerful. Live nobly,
Do right, and do good. Make the best
Of the gifts and the work put before you,
And to God without fear leave the rest.

--William Newell.

BRING EVERY BURDEN

Be trustful, be steadfast, whatever betide thee,
Only one thing do thou ask of the Lord--
Grace to go forward wherever he guide thee,
Simply believing the truth of his word.

Earthliness, coldness, unthankful behavior--
Ah! thou mayst sorrow, but do not despair.
Even this grief thou mayst bring to thy Saviour,
Cast upon him this burden of care!

Bring all thy hardness--His power can subdue it,
How full is the promise! The blessing how free:
"Whatsoever ye ask in my name, I will do it;
Abide in my love and be joyful in me."

THY LOVING KINDNESS

Not always the path is easy;
There are thickets hung with gloom,
There are rough and stony places
Where never the roses bloom.
But oft, when the way is hardest,
I am conscious of One at my side
Whose hands and whose feet are wounded,
And I'm happy and safe with my Guide.

Better than friends and kindred,
Better than love and rest,
Dearer than hope and triumph,
Is the name I wear on my breast.
I feel my way through the shadows
With a confident heart and brave;
I shall live in the light beyond them;
I shall conquer death and the grave.

Often when tried and tempted,
Often, ashamed of sin--
That, strong as an armed invader,
Has made wreck of the peace within--
That wonderful loving-kindness,
Patient and full and free,
Has stooped for my consolation;
Has brought a blessing to me.

Therefore my lips shall praise thee,
Therefore, let come what may,
To the height of a solemn gladness
My song shall arise to-day.
Not on the drooping willow
Shall I hang my harp in the land,
When the Lord himself has cheered me
By the touch of his pierced hand.

--Margaret Elizabeth Sangster.

To try each day his will to know;
To tread the way his will may show;
To live for him who gave me life;
To strive for him who suffered strife
And sacrifice through death for me--
Let this my joy, my portion be.

THANKS

I thank thee, Lord, for mine unanswered prayers,
Unanswered save thy quiet, kindly "Nay";
Yet it seemed hard among my heavy cares--
That bitter day.

I wanted joy; but Thou didst know for me
That sorrow was the gift I needed most,
And in its mystic depths I learned to see
The Holy Ghost.

I wanted health; but thou didst bid me sound
The secret treasuries of pain,
And in the moans and groans my heart oft found
Thy Christ again.

I wanted wealth; 'twas not the better part;
There is a wealth with poverty oft given.
And thou didst teach me of the gold of heart--
Best gift of heaven.

I thank thee, Lord, for these unanswered prayers,
And for thy word, the quiet, kindly "Nay."
'Twas thy withholding lightened all my cares
That blessed day.

--Oliver Huckel.

THE GLORIOUS MORN

Open the shutters free and wide.
And "glorify the room";
That no dark shadows here may bide--
That there be naught of gloom.

What joy to breathe the morning air,
And see the sun again;
With living things God's love to share,
In recompense for pain.

--Henry Coyle.

For all the evils under the sun
There is some remedy or none;
If there is one be sure to find it;
If there is none, why, never mind it.

EVENING PRAISE

Again, O God, the night shuts down,
Again I kneel to praise!
Thy wisdom, love, and truth and power
Have long made glad my days.
And, now, with added gratitude,
An evening hymn I raise.

I take the attitude of prayer,
But not for gifts to plead;
Thy bounty, far beyond desert,
Has more than met my need;
So, well content, I worship Thee
In thought and word and deed.

Thou bidst me ask, if I'd receive,
And seek, if I would find;
But surely Thou wilt not condemn
A heart to trust inclined.
Give what is best; Thou knowest all.
How blest the quiet mind!

I praise thee that in all the hours
And moments, as they glide,
Thy providence enfoldeth close;
Thy blessings rich abide;
And Thou dost keep in perfect peace
Those who in thee confide.

I praise thee for what seemeth good,
And for what seemeth ill.
Appearances are vain deceits;
Above them stands thy will;
By faith, not sight, thy children walk,
In hottest fire hold still.

Accept the off'ring that I lay
In gladness at thy feet;
My heart o'erflows with keenest joy,
With ecstacy complete.
Because, in all vicissitudes,
Thy constancy I greet.

Thou wilt not cease to love me well,
Nor fail to hold me fast;
Though pain may come, it cannot harm;
My care on thee is cast,
For future good he'll surely send
Who sent so sweet a past.

Praise waits in Zion, Lord, for thee,
Praise runs the world around;
And so this little heart of mine
Shall ne'er in gloom be found,
Rejoicing that all days and nights
May with thy praise resound.

--James Mudge.

GO TELL JESUS

Bury thy sorrow,
The world has its share;
Bury it deeply,
Hide it with care.

Think of it calmly
When curtained by night;
Tell it to Jesus,
And all will be right.

Tell it to Jesus,
He knoweth thy grief;
Tell it to Jesus,
He'll send thee relief.

Gather the sunlight
Aglow on thy way;
Gather the moonbeams,
Each soft silver ray.

Hearts grown aweary
With heavier woe,
Droop 'mid the darkness--
Go comfort them, go!

Bury thy sorrow,
Let others be blest;
Give them the sunshine,
Tell Jesus the rest.

WE WILL PRAISE THEE

Great Jehovah! we will praise thee,
Earth and heaven thy will obey;
Suns and systems move obedient
To thy universal sway.

Deep and awful are thy counsels;
High and glorious is thy throne;
Reigning o'er thy vast dominion,
Thou art God and thou alone.

In thy wondrous condescension
Thou hast stooped to raise our race;
Thou hast given to us a Saviour,
Full of goodness and of grace.

By his blood we are forgiven,
By his intercession free,
By his love we rise to glory
There to reign eternally.

God of Power--we bow before thee;
God of Wisdom--thee we praise;
God of Love--so kind and tender,
We would praise thee all our days.

Praise to thee--our loving Father;
Praise to thee--redeeming Son;
Praise to thee--Almighty Spirit;
Praise to thee--Thou Holy One.

--John White.

AFTER ALL

We take our share of fretting,
Of grieving and forgetting;
The paths are often rough and steep, and heedless feet may fall;
But yet the days are cheery,
And night brings rest when weary
And somehow this old planet is a good world after all.

Though sharp may be our trouble,
The joys are more than double,
The brave surpass the cowards and the leal are like a wall
To guard their dearest ever,
To fail the feeblest never;
And somehow this old earth remains a bright world after all.

There's always love that's caring,
And shielding and forbearing,
Dear woman's love to hold us close and keep our hearts in thrall.
There's home to share together
In calm or stormy weather,
And while the hearth-flame burns it is a good world after all.

The lisp of children's voices,
The chance of happy choices,
The bugle sounds of hope and faith, through fogs and mists that call;
The heaven that stretches o'er us,
The better days before us,
They all combine to make this earth a good world after all.

--Margaret Elizabeth Sangster.

Sound an anthem in your sorrows,
Build a fortress of your fears;
Throw a halo round your trials,
Weave a rainbow of your tears.

Never mind if shadows darken,
Never fear though foes be strong;
Lift your heads and shout hosannah!
Praise the Lord, it won't be long.

BE OF GOOD CHEER

God is near thee, Christian; cheer thee,
Rest in him, sad soul;
He will keep thee when around thee
Billows roll.

Calm thy sadness, look in gladness
To thy Friend on high;
Faint and weary pilgrim, cheer thee;
Help is nigh.

Mark the sea-bird wildly wheeling
Through the stormy skies;
God defends him, God attends him
When he cries.

Fare thee onward through the sunshine
Or through wintry blast;
Fear forsake thee; God will take thee
Home at last.

PESSIMIST AND OPTIMIST

This one sits shivering in Fortune's smile,
Taking his joy with bated, doubtful breath.
This one, gnawed by hunger, all the while
Laughs in the teeth of death.

--Thomas Bailey Aldrich.

PRAISE WAITETH FOR THEE

They stand, the regal mountains, with crowns of spotless snow,
Forever changeless, grand, sublime, while ages come and go!
Each day the morning cometh in through the eastern gate,
With trailing robes of pink and gold; yet still they watch and wait
For that more glorious morning, till that glad message sounds--
"Lift up your heads, ye gates of God! the King of glory comes!"

And so they stand o'erlooking earth's trouble, pain and sin,
And wait the call to lift their gates and let the King come in.
O calm, majestic mountains! O everlasting hills!
Beside your patient watch how small seem all life's joys and ills!

Beyond, the restless ocean, mysterious, vast, and dim,
Whose changeful waves forever chant their grand triumphal hymn.
Now tempest-lashed and raging, with deep and hungry roar,
The foam-capped billows dash themselves in anger on the shore,

Now wavelets ripple gently along the quiet strand,
While summer's sunshine broodeth soft o'er all the sea and land.
O mighty waves! as chainless, as free, as birds that skim!
There's One who rules the stormy sea--thy song is all of him.

And so in the shadowy forest the birds sing loud and sweet
From swaying boughs where breezes rock their little broods to sleep.
The golden cups of the cowslip spring from the mossy sod,
And the sweet blue violet blooms alone--just for itself and God.

It is aye the same old lesson, from mountain, wood, and sea,
The old, old story, ever new, and wondrous grand to me--
Of One who holds the waters in the hollow of his hand;
Whose presence shone from mountain top in that far eastern land.

"The groves are God's own temples"; the wild birds sing his praise;
And every flower in the forest dim its humble tribute pays;
For God loves all his creatures, however weak and small;
His grandest works give praise to him, for he is Lord of all.

We cannot make bargains for blisses,
Nor catch them like fishes in nets;
And sometimes the thing our life misses
Helps more than the thing which it gets.
For good lieth not in pursuing,
Nor gaining of great nor of small,
But just in the doing, and doing
As we would be done by is all.

--Alice Cary.

DON'T TAKE IT TO HEART

There's many a trouble
Would break like a bubble,
And into the waters of Lethe depart,
Did we not rehearse it,
And tenderly nurse it,
And give it a permanent place in the heart.

There's many a sorrow
Would vanish to-morrow
Were we but willing to furnish the wings;
So sadly intruding,
And quietly brooding,
It hatches out all sorts of horrible things.

How welcome the seeming
Of looks that are beaming
Whether one's wealthy or whether one's poor;
Eyes bright as a berry,
Cheeks red as a cherry,
The groan and the curse and the heartache can cure.

Resolve to be merry,
All worry to ferry
Across the famed waters which bid us forget,
And no longer fearful,
But happy and cheerful,
We feel life has much that's worth living for yet.

ALTHOUGH--YET

Away! my unbelieving fear!
Fear shall in me no more have place;
My Saviour doth not yet appear,
He hides the brightness of his face,
But shall I therefore let him go,
And basely to the tempter yield?
No, in the strength of Jesus, no;
I never will give up my shield.

Although the vine its fruit deny,
Although the olive yield no oil,
The withering fig-trees droop and die,
The fields elude the tiller's toil.
The empty stall no herd afford,
And perish all the bleating race,
Yet will I triumph in the Lord--
The God of my salvation praise.

--Charles Wesley.

'Tis impious in a good man to be sad.

--Edward Young.

AS A BIRD IN MEADOWS FAIR

As a bird in meadows fair
Or in lovely forest sings,
Till it fills the summer air
And the green wood sweetly rings,
So my heart to thee would raise,
O my God, its song of praise
That the gloom of night is o'er
And I see the sun once more.

If thou, Sun of love, arise,
All my heart with joy is stirred,
And to greet thee upward flies,
Gladsome as yon tiny bird.
Shine thou in me, clear and bright,
Till I learn to praise thee right;
Guide me in the narrow way,
Let me ne'er in darkness stray.

Bless to-day whate'er I do;
Bless whate'er I have and love;
From the paths of virtue true
Let me never, never rove;
By thy spirit strengthen me
In the faith that leads to Thee,
Then, an heir of life on high,
Fearless I may live and die.

"HE DOETH ALL THINGS WELL!"

Pleased in the sunshine, pleased in the blast,
Pleased when the heavens are all overcast,
Pleased when I can or cannot see
God's loving hand is dealing with me.

Pleased, for Christ's promises never can fail;
Pleased in the calm and also the gale;
Knowing Omniscience at midnight can see,
Since he was Pilot on dark Galilee.

Pleased when in health or when I am ill,
Pleased, since I know I'm in the Lord's will,
Pleased with whatever my lot may be
Knowing Omnipotence careth for me.

Beneath the tiger's jaw I heard a victim cry,
"Thanks, God, that, though in pain, yet not in guilt I die."

--From the Persian.

THE ROBIN'S SONG

I'll sing you a lay ere I wing on my way,
Cheer up! Cheer up! Cheer up!
Whenever you're blue find something to do
For somebody else who is sadder than you.
Cheer up! Cheer up! Cheer up!

He growled at morning, noon, and night,
And trouble sought to borrow;
Although to-day the sky were bright
He knew 'twould storm to-morrow;
A thought of joy he could not stand,
And struggled to resist it;
Though sunshine dappled all the land
This sorry pessi_mist_ it.

--Nixon Waterman.

Oh, be in God's clear world no dark and troubled sprite!
To Christ, thy Master mild, do no such foul despite;
But show in look, word, mien, that thou belongst to him,
Who says, "My yoke is easy, and my burden light."

--Friedrich Rueckert.

Let us gather up the sunbeams
Lying all around our path;
Let us keep the wheat and roses,
Casting out the thorns and chaff;
Let us find our sweetest comfort
In the blessings of to-day,
With a patient hand removing
All the briars from our way.

O give me the joy of living
And some glorious work to do!
A spirit of thanksgiving,
With loyal heart and true;
Some pathway to make brighter,
Where tired feet now stray;
Some burden to make lighter,
While 'tis day.