'WHERE THE WEARY ARE AT REST.' GRIEF is bitter o'er the dust,
When we hear the churchyard knell ; But echoes of an upward trust
Float around the tolling bell.
Selfish, even in our love,
Sorrow may become too deep,
And Faith and Patience often prove
The stroke is kind that bids us weep.
Think, while mourning broken-hearted
O'er the friends that cheered and blessed,
We shall follow the departed,
'Where the weary are at rest!'
It is well that we should sigh
When the dark death-shadows fall;
But there's an eternal sky
Behind the tear-cloud of the pall.
Though the hour of parting brings
Anguish that we groan to hear,
Hope, sweet bird of promise, sings
In the yew tree of despair.
Let us hearken while her story
Whispers to the aching breast,
"Those ye mourn are crowned with glory,
Where the weary are at rest.'
FAITH'S GUIDING-STAR.
WE find a glory in the flowers
When snow-drops peep and hawthorn blooms; We see fresh light in spring-time hours, And bless the radiance that illumes. The song of promise cheers with hope,
That sin or sorrow cannot mar; GOD's beauty fills the daisied slope,
And keeps undimmed Faith's guiding-star.
We find a glory in the smile
That lives in childhood's happy face,
Ere fearful doubt or worldly guile
Has swept away the angel trace.
The ray of promise shineth there,
To tell of better lands afar;
GOD sends His image, pure and fair,
To keep undimmed Faith's guiding-star.
We find a glory in the zeal
Of doting breast and toiling brain;
Affection's martyrs still will kneel,
And song, though famished, pour its strain They lure us by a quenchless light,
And point where joy is holier far;
They shed GoD's spirit, warm and bright,
And keep undimmed Faith's guiding-star.
We muse beside the rolling waves,
We ponder on the grassy hill;
We linger by the new-piled graves,
And find that star is shining still.
GOD in his great design hath spread
Unnumbered rays to lead afar,
They beam the brightest o'er the dead,
And keep undimmed Faith's guiding-star.
LET US GIVE THANKS.
LET us give thanks with grateful soul
To Him who sendeth all;
To Him who bids the planets roll,
And sees a 'sparrow fall.'
Though grief and tears may dim our joys,
And care and strife arrest,
'Tis man, too often, that alloys
The lot his Maker blessed;
While sunshine lights the boundless sky,
And dew-drops feed the sod;
While stars and rainbows live on high-
Let us give thanks to GOD.
We till the earth in Labour's health,
We plant the acorn cup;
The fields are crowned in golden wealth,
The green tree springeth up;
The sweet, eternal waters gush
From mountain and from vale;
The vineyards blush with purple flush,
The yellow hop-leaves trail;
And while the harvest flings its gold,
And cowslips deck the sod-
While limpid streams are clear and cold,
Let us give thanks to GOD.
The flower yields its odour breath,
As gentle winds go past;
The grasshopper, that lurks beneath,
Chirps merrily and fast;
The ringdove coos upon the spray,
The lark's full anthems pour;
The bees start with a jocund lay,
The waves sing on the shore:
Hosannahs fill the wood and wild
Where human step ne'er trod ;
And nature, like an unweaned child,
Smiles on its parent GOD.
Say, Brothers, shall the bird and bloom
Thus teach, and teach in vain ? Shall all the love-rays that illume Be lost in clouds of pain?
Shall hearts be dead, and vision blind, To all that Mercy deals?
Shall Soul and Reason fail to find
The shrine where instinct kneels? Ah, no! while glory lights the sky, And beauty paints the sodWhile stars and rainbows live on high, Let us give thanks to God.
A SABBATH-EVENING SONG.
GOD on earth! and GoD in heaven!
GOD! who gave one day in seven
Unto man that he might rest
With thy mercy in his breast.
GOD of Goodness! I am kneeling
In my spirit's deep revealing;
Fervently to give Thee praise
For the peace of Sabbath-days.
Glad and tranquil Thou hast made
This soft hour of twilight shade,
And I ask Thee, in Thy might,
To be watchman of my night.
Let me thank Thee, let me own,
At the footstool of Thy throne,
All my grateful joy and love,
Drawn from hopes that point above;
Let me lay my heart before Thee,
And with holy trust implore Thee.
To forgive its human blot
Gathered in its human lot.
Listen, Father to my singing,
Like a child to Thee I'm clinging;
If I wander, guide me right,
Be Thou watchman of my night.!'
Let me ask Thee, ere I sleep,
To remember those who weep,
Those who moan with some wild sorrow,
That shall dread to meet the morrow;
Let me ask Thee to abide
At the fainting sick one's side,
Where the plaints of anguish rise
In smothered groans and weary sighs;
Give them strength to brook and bear
Trial pain, and trial care;
Let them see Thy saving light,
Be Thou watchman of their night!'
GOD of mercy! GOD of grace!
Keep me worthy of my place;
Let my harpstrings ne'er be heard
When they jar with Thy plain Word;
Should the world's fair pitfall take me,
Father do not Thou forsake me;
Let repentance cleanse the stain,
And call me back to truth again;
Father, Infinite and Just!
Shine upon my path of dust,
Lead me in the noontide light,
And be Thou watchman of my night!'
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