LIFE

The dearest thing on earth to meIs Jesus' will;Whate'er I do, where'er I be,To do his will.Worldly pleasures cannot charm me,Powers of evil cannot harm me,Death itself cannot alarm me,For 'tis his will.

The dearest thing on earth to me

Is Jesus' will;

Whate'er I do, where'er I be,

To do his will.

Worldly pleasures cannot charm me,

Powers of evil cannot harm me,

Death itself cannot alarm me,

For 'tis his will.

———

O Jesus, I have promised,To serve thee to the end;Be thou forever near me,My Master and my Friend.I shall not fear the battleIf thou art by my side,Nor wander from the pathwayIf thou wilt be my guide.O let me feel thee near me;The world is ever near;I see the sights that dazzle,The tempting sounds I hear;My foes are ever near me,Around me and within;But, Jesus, draw thou nearer,And shield my soul from sin.O Jesus, thou hast promisedTo all who follow thee,That where thou art in gloryThere shall thy servant be;And, Jesus, I have promisedTo serve thee to the end;O give me grace to followMy Master and my Friend.—John E. Bode.

O Jesus, I have promised,

To serve thee to the end;

Be thou forever near me,

My Master and my Friend.

I shall not fear the battle

If thou art by my side,

Nor wander from the pathway

If thou wilt be my guide.

O let me feel thee near me;The world is ever near;I see the sights that dazzle,The tempting sounds I hear;My foes are ever near me,Around me and within;But, Jesus, draw thou nearer,And shield my soul from sin.

O let me feel thee near me;

The world is ever near;

I see the sights that dazzle,

The tempting sounds I hear;

My foes are ever near me,

Around me and within;

But, Jesus, draw thou nearer,

And shield my soul from sin.

O Jesus, thou hast promisedTo all who follow thee,That where thou art in gloryThere shall thy servant be;And, Jesus, I have promisedTo serve thee to the end;O give me grace to followMy Master and my Friend.

O Jesus, thou hast promised

To all who follow thee,

That where thou art in glory

There shall thy servant be;

And, Jesus, I have promised

To serve thee to the end;

O give me grace to follow

My Master and my Friend.

—John E. Bode.

———

The King of love my Shepherd is,Whose goodness faileth never;I nothing lack if I am his,And he is mine forever.Where streams of living water flowMy ransomed soul he leadeth,And where the verdant pastures growWith food celestial feedeth.Perverse and foolish oft I strayed,But yet in love he sought me,And on his shoulder gently laid,And home rejoicing brought me.In death's dark vale I fear no ill,With thee, dear Lord, beside me;Thy rod and staff my comfort still,Thy cross before to guide me.And so, through all the length of day,Thy goodness faileth never;Good Shepherd, may I sing thy praiseWithin thy house forever.—Henry W. Baker.

The King of love my Shepherd is,Whose goodness faileth never;I nothing lack if I am his,And he is mine forever.

The King of love my Shepherd is,

Whose goodness faileth never;

I nothing lack if I am his,

And he is mine forever.

Where streams of living water flowMy ransomed soul he leadeth,And where the verdant pastures growWith food celestial feedeth.

Where streams of living water flow

My ransomed soul he leadeth,

And where the verdant pastures grow

With food celestial feedeth.

Perverse and foolish oft I strayed,But yet in love he sought me,And on his shoulder gently laid,And home rejoicing brought me.

Perverse and foolish oft I strayed,

But yet in love he sought me,

And on his shoulder gently laid,

And home rejoicing brought me.

In death's dark vale I fear no ill,With thee, dear Lord, beside me;Thy rod and staff my comfort still,Thy cross before to guide me.

In death's dark vale I fear no ill,

With thee, dear Lord, beside me;

Thy rod and staff my comfort still,

Thy cross before to guide me.

And so, through all the length of day,Thy goodness faileth never;Good Shepherd, may I sing thy praiseWithin thy house forever.

And so, through all the length of day,

Thy goodness faileth never;

Good Shepherd, may I sing thy praise

Within thy house forever.

—Henry W. Baker.

———

We would see Jesus when our hopes are brightestAnd all that earth can grant is at its best;When not a drift of shadow, even the lightest,Blurs our clear atmosphere of perfect rest.We would see Jesus when the joy of livingHolds all our senses in a realm of bliss,That we may know he hath the power of givingEnduring rapture more supreme than this.We would see Jesus when our pathway darkens,Beneath the dread of some impending ill;When the discouraged soul no longer harkensTo hope, who beckons in the distance still.We would see Jesus when the stress of sorrowStrains to their utmost tension heart and brain;That he may teach us how despair may borrowFrom faith the one sure antidote of pain.We would see Jesus when our best are taken,And we must meet, unshared, all shocks of woe;Because he bore for us, alone, forsaken,Burdens whose weight no human heart could know.We would see Jesus when our fading vision,Lost to the consciousness of earth and sky,Has only insight for the far elysian;We would see Jesus when we come to die!—Margaret J. Preston.

We would see Jesus when our hopes are brightestAnd all that earth can grant is at its best;When not a drift of shadow, even the lightest,Blurs our clear atmosphere of perfect rest.

We would see Jesus when our hopes are brightest

And all that earth can grant is at its best;

When not a drift of shadow, even the lightest,

Blurs our clear atmosphere of perfect rest.

We would see Jesus when the joy of livingHolds all our senses in a realm of bliss,That we may know he hath the power of givingEnduring rapture more supreme than this.

We would see Jesus when the joy of living

Holds all our senses in a realm of bliss,

That we may know he hath the power of giving

Enduring rapture more supreme than this.

We would see Jesus when our pathway darkens,Beneath the dread of some impending ill;When the discouraged soul no longer harkensTo hope, who beckons in the distance still.

We would see Jesus when our pathway darkens,

Beneath the dread of some impending ill;

When the discouraged soul no longer harkens

To hope, who beckons in the distance still.

We would see Jesus when the stress of sorrowStrains to their utmost tension heart and brain;That he may teach us how despair may borrowFrom faith the one sure antidote of pain.

We would see Jesus when the stress of sorrow

Strains to their utmost tension heart and brain;

That he may teach us how despair may borrow

From faith the one sure antidote of pain.

We would see Jesus when our best are taken,And we must meet, unshared, all shocks of woe;Because he bore for us, alone, forsaken,Burdens whose weight no human heart could know.

We would see Jesus when our best are taken,

And we must meet, unshared, all shocks of woe;

Because he bore for us, alone, forsaken,

Burdens whose weight no human heart could know.

We would see Jesus when our fading vision,Lost to the consciousness of earth and sky,Has only insight for the far elysian;We would see Jesus when we come to die!

We would see Jesus when our fading vision,

Lost to the consciousness of earth and sky,

Has only insight for the far elysian;

We would see Jesus when we come to die!

—Margaret J. Preston.

———

Jesus, the calm that fills my breast,No other heart than thine can give;This peace unstirred, this joy of rest,None but thy loved ones can receive.My weary soul has found a charmThat turns to blessedness my woe;Within the shelter of thine armI rest secure from storm and foe.In desert wastes I feel no dread,Fearless I walk the trackless sea;I care not where my way is led,Since all my life is life with thee.O Christ, through changeful years my Guide,My Comforter in sorrow's night,My Friend, when friendless—still abide,My Lord, my Counsellor, my Light.My time, my powers, I give to thee;My inmost soul 'tis thine to move;I wait for thy eternity,I wait in peace, in praise, in love.—Frank Mason North.

Jesus, the calm that fills my breast,No other heart than thine can give;This peace unstirred, this joy of rest,None but thy loved ones can receive.

Jesus, the calm that fills my breast,

No other heart than thine can give;

This peace unstirred, this joy of rest,

None but thy loved ones can receive.

My weary soul has found a charmThat turns to blessedness my woe;Within the shelter of thine armI rest secure from storm and foe.

My weary soul has found a charm

That turns to blessedness my woe;

Within the shelter of thine arm

I rest secure from storm and foe.

In desert wastes I feel no dread,Fearless I walk the trackless sea;I care not where my way is led,Since all my life is life with thee.

In desert wastes I feel no dread,

Fearless I walk the trackless sea;

I care not where my way is led,

Since all my life is life with thee.

O Christ, through changeful years my Guide,My Comforter in sorrow's night,My Friend, when friendless—still abide,My Lord, my Counsellor, my Light.

O Christ, through changeful years my Guide,

My Comforter in sorrow's night,

My Friend, when friendless—still abide,

My Lord, my Counsellor, my Light.

My time, my powers, I give to thee;My inmost soul 'tis thine to move;I wait for thy eternity,I wait in peace, in praise, in love.

My time, my powers, I give to thee;

My inmost soul 'tis thine to move;

I wait for thy eternity,

I wait in peace, in praise, in love.

—Frank Mason North.

———

Everywhere with Jesus;O how sweet the thought!Filling all my soul with joy,Deep with comfort fraught.Never absent far from him,Always at his side;Everywhere with Jesus,Trusting him to guide.Everywhere with Jesus;For no place can beWhere I may not find him near,Very near to me;Closer than the flesh I wear—In my inmost heart—Everywhere with Jesus;We shall never part.Everywhere with Jesus;Do whate'er I may,Work, or talk, or walk abroad,Study, preach, or pray,Still I find him, full of love,Ready ere I call.Everywhere with Jesus;He's my all in all.Everywhere with Jesus;Let the world assail,Naught can shake my sure repose.He will never fail.I am weak, but he is strong,Mighty to defend;Everywhere with Jesus,Safe with such a friend.Everywhere with Jesus;Careful should I beLest some secret thought of guileHis pure eye may see.Holy, harmless, undefiled,He no sin can know;Everywhere with JesusSpotless I may go.Everywhere with JesusWould that all might say;Happy then beyond compare,Glad by night and day,All would taste of joy sublime,Perfect peace and rest:Everywhere with Jesus,Nothing could molest.—James Mudge.

Everywhere with Jesus;O how sweet the thought!Filling all my soul with joy,Deep with comfort fraught.Never absent far from him,Always at his side;Everywhere with Jesus,Trusting him to guide.

Everywhere with Jesus;

O how sweet the thought!

Filling all my soul with joy,

Deep with comfort fraught.

Never absent far from him,

Always at his side;

Everywhere with Jesus,

Trusting him to guide.

Everywhere with Jesus;For no place can beWhere I may not find him near,Very near to me;Closer than the flesh I wear—In my inmost heart—Everywhere with Jesus;We shall never part.

Everywhere with Jesus;

For no place can be

Where I may not find him near,

Very near to me;

Closer than the flesh I wear—

In my inmost heart—

Everywhere with Jesus;

We shall never part.

Everywhere with Jesus;Do whate'er I may,Work, or talk, or walk abroad,Study, preach, or pray,Still I find him, full of love,Ready ere I call.Everywhere with Jesus;He's my all in all.

Everywhere with Jesus;

Do whate'er I may,

Work, or talk, or walk abroad,

Study, preach, or pray,

Still I find him, full of love,

Ready ere I call.

Everywhere with Jesus;

He's my all in all.

Everywhere with Jesus;Let the world assail,Naught can shake my sure repose.He will never fail.I am weak, but he is strong,Mighty to defend;Everywhere with Jesus,Safe with such a friend.

Everywhere with Jesus;

Let the world assail,

Naught can shake my sure repose.

He will never fail.

I am weak, but he is strong,

Mighty to defend;

Everywhere with Jesus,

Safe with such a friend.

Everywhere with Jesus;Careful should I beLest some secret thought of guileHis pure eye may see.Holy, harmless, undefiled,He no sin can know;Everywhere with JesusSpotless I may go.

Everywhere with Jesus;

Careful should I be

Lest some secret thought of guile

His pure eye may see.

Holy, harmless, undefiled,

He no sin can know;

Everywhere with Jesus

Spotless I may go.

Everywhere with JesusWould that all might say;Happy then beyond compare,Glad by night and day,All would taste of joy sublime,Perfect peace and rest:Everywhere with Jesus,Nothing could molest.

Everywhere with Jesus

Would that all might say;

Happy then beyond compare,

Glad by night and day,

All would taste of joy sublime,

Perfect peace and rest:

Everywhere with Jesus,

Nothing could molest.

—James Mudge.

———

Do not I love thee, O my Lord?Then let me nothing love;Dead be my heart to every joy,When Jesus cannot move.Is not thy name melodious stillTo mine attentive ear?Doth not each pulse with pleasure boundMy Saviour's voice to hear?Hast thou a lamb in all thy flockI would disdain to feed?Hast thou a foe before whose faceI fear thy cause to plead?Would not mine ardent spirit vieWith angels round the throneTo execute thy sacred will,And make thy glory known?Thou know'st I love thee, dearest Lord,But O I long to soarFar from the sphere of mortal joys,And learn to love thee more.—Philip Doddridge.

Do not I love thee, O my Lord?Then let me nothing love;Dead be my heart to every joy,When Jesus cannot move.

Do not I love thee, O my Lord?

Then let me nothing love;

Dead be my heart to every joy,

When Jesus cannot move.

Is not thy name melodious stillTo mine attentive ear?Doth not each pulse with pleasure boundMy Saviour's voice to hear?

Is not thy name melodious still

To mine attentive ear?

Doth not each pulse with pleasure bound

My Saviour's voice to hear?

Hast thou a lamb in all thy flockI would disdain to feed?Hast thou a foe before whose faceI fear thy cause to plead?

Hast thou a lamb in all thy flock

I would disdain to feed?

Hast thou a foe before whose face

I fear thy cause to plead?

Would not mine ardent spirit vieWith angels round the throneTo execute thy sacred will,And make thy glory known?

Would not mine ardent spirit vie

With angels round the throne

To execute thy sacred will,

And make thy glory known?

Thou know'st I love thee, dearest Lord,But O I long to soarFar from the sphere of mortal joys,And learn to love thee more.

Thou know'st I love thee, dearest Lord,

But O I long to soar

Far from the sphere of mortal joys,

And learn to love thee more.

—Philip Doddridge.

———

As by the light of opening dayThe stars are all concealed,So earthly pleasures fade awayWhen Jesus is revealed.Creatures no more divide my choice;I bid them all depart:His name, his love, his gracious voice,Have fixed my roving heart.—John Newton.

As by the light of opening dayThe stars are all concealed,So earthly pleasures fade awayWhen Jesus is revealed.

As by the light of opening day

The stars are all concealed,

So earthly pleasures fade away

When Jesus is revealed.

Creatures no more divide my choice;I bid them all depart:His name, his love, his gracious voice,Have fixed my roving heart.

Creatures no more divide my choice;

I bid them all depart:

His name, his love, his gracious voice,

Have fixed my roving heart.

—John Newton.

———

Fairest Lord Jesus!Ruler of all nature!O thou of God and man the Son!Thee will I cherish,Thee will I honor,Thee, my soul's glory, joy, and crown.Fair are the meadows,Fairer still the woodlands,Robed in the blooming garb of spring;Jesus is fairer,Jesus is purer,Who makes the woeful heart to sing.Fair is the sunshine,Fairer still the moonlight,And all the twinkling starry host;Jesus shines brighter,Jesus shines purerThan all the angels heaven can boast.—From the German.

Fairest Lord Jesus!Ruler of all nature!O thou of God and man the Son!Thee will I cherish,Thee will I honor,Thee, my soul's glory, joy, and crown.

Fairest Lord Jesus!

Ruler of all nature!

O thou of God and man the Son!

Thee will I cherish,

Thee will I honor,

Thee, my soul's glory, joy, and crown.

Fair are the meadows,Fairer still the woodlands,Robed in the blooming garb of spring;Jesus is fairer,Jesus is purer,Who makes the woeful heart to sing.

Fair are the meadows,

Fairer still the woodlands,

Robed in the blooming garb of spring;

Jesus is fairer,

Jesus is purer,

Who makes the woeful heart to sing.

Fair is the sunshine,Fairer still the moonlight,And all the twinkling starry host;Jesus shines brighter,Jesus shines purerThan all the angels heaven can boast.

Fair is the sunshine,

Fairer still the moonlight,

And all the twinkling starry host;

Jesus shines brighter,

Jesus shines purer

Than all the angels heaven can boast.

—From the German.

———

Jesus calls us; o'er the tumultOf our life's wild, restless sea,Day by day his sweet voice soundeth,Saying, Christian, follow me!Jesus calls us from the worshipOf the vain world's golden store;From each idol that would keep us;Saying, Christian, love me more!In our joys and in our sorrows,Days of toil and hours of ease,Still he calls, in cares and pleasures,Christian, love me more than these!Jesus calls us! by thy mercies,Saviour, may we hear thy call;Give our hearts to thy obedience,Serve and love thee best of all.—Cecil Frances Alexander.

Jesus calls us; o'er the tumultOf our life's wild, restless sea,Day by day his sweet voice soundeth,Saying, Christian, follow me!

Jesus calls us; o'er the tumult

Of our life's wild, restless sea,

Day by day his sweet voice soundeth,

Saying, Christian, follow me!

Jesus calls us from the worshipOf the vain world's golden store;From each idol that would keep us;Saying, Christian, love me more!

Jesus calls us from the worship

Of the vain world's golden store;

From each idol that would keep us;

Saying, Christian, love me more!

In our joys and in our sorrows,Days of toil and hours of ease,Still he calls, in cares and pleasures,Christian, love me more than these!

In our joys and in our sorrows,

Days of toil and hours of ease,

Still he calls, in cares and pleasures,

Christian, love me more than these!

Jesus calls us! by thy mercies,Saviour, may we hear thy call;Give our hearts to thy obedience,Serve and love thee best of all.

Jesus calls us! by thy mercies,

Saviour, may we hear thy call;

Give our hearts to thy obedience,

Serve and love thee best of all.

—Cecil Frances Alexander.

———

If washed in Jesus' blood,Then bear his likeness too,And as you onward pressAsk, What would Jesus do?Be brave to do the right,And scorn to be untrue;When fear would whisper, Yield,Ask, What would Jesus do?

If washed in Jesus' blood,

Then bear his likeness too,

And as you onward press

Ask, What would Jesus do?

Be brave to do the right,

And scorn to be untrue;

When fear would whisper, Yield,

Ask, What would Jesus do?

Without haste and without rest;Bind the motto to thy breast.Bear it with thee as a spell,Storm or sunshine, guard it well!Heed not flowers that round thee bloom;Bear it onward to the tomb!Haste not—let no thoughtless deedMar the spirit's steady speed;Ponder well, and know the right,Onward, then, with all thy might;Haste not—years can ne'er atoneFor one reckless action done!Rest not—life is sweeping by.Do and dare before you die;Something worthy and sublimeLeave behind to conquer time;Glorious 'tis to live for aye,When these forms have passed away.Haste not—rest not. Calm in strifeMeekly bear the storms of life;Duty be thy polar guide;Do the right, whate'er betide;Haste not—rest not. Conflicts past,God shall crown thy work at last!—Johann Wolfgang von Goethe.

Without haste and without rest;Bind the motto to thy breast.Bear it with thee as a spell,Storm or sunshine, guard it well!Heed not flowers that round thee bloom;Bear it onward to the tomb!

Without haste and without rest;

Bind the motto to thy breast.

Bear it with thee as a spell,

Storm or sunshine, guard it well!

Heed not flowers that round thee bloom;

Bear it onward to the tomb!

Haste not—let no thoughtless deedMar the spirit's steady speed;Ponder well, and know the right,Onward, then, with all thy might;Haste not—years can ne'er atoneFor one reckless action done!

Haste not—let no thoughtless deed

Mar the spirit's steady speed;

Ponder well, and know the right,

Onward, then, with all thy might;

Haste not—years can ne'er atone

For one reckless action done!

Rest not—life is sweeping by.Do and dare before you die;Something worthy and sublimeLeave behind to conquer time;Glorious 'tis to live for aye,When these forms have passed away.

Rest not—life is sweeping by.

Do and dare before you die;

Something worthy and sublime

Leave behind to conquer time;

Glorious 'tis to live for aye,

When these forms have passed away.

Haste not—rest not. Calm in strifeMeekly bear the storms of life;Duty be thy polar guide;Do the right, whate'er betide;Haste not—rest not. Conflicts past,God shall crown thy work at last!

Haste not—rest not. Calm in strife

Meekly bear the storms of life;

Duty be thy polar guide;

Do the right, whate'er betide;

Haste not—rest not. Conflicts past,

God shall crown thy work at last!

—Johann Wolfgang von Goethe.

———

I live for those who love me;For those I know are true;For the heaven that smiles above meAnd awaits my spirit too;For all human ties that bind me,For the task my God assigned me,For the bright hope left behind me,And the good that I can do.I live to learn their storyWho suffered for my sake,To emulate their gloryAnd follow in their wake;Bards, martyrs, patriots, sages,The nobles of all ages.Whose deeds crown History's pagesAnd time's great volume make.I live to hail the season—By gifted minds foretold—When man shall live by reason,And not alone for gold;When man to man united,And every wrong thing righted,The whole world shall be lightedAs Eden was of old.I live to hold communionWith all that is divine,To feel that there is union'Twixt nature's heart and mine;To profit by affliction,Reap truth from fields of fiction,Grow wiser from conviction,Fulfilling God's design.I live for those who love me,For those who know me true,For the heaven that smiles above meAnd awaits my spirit too;For the wrongs that need resistance,For the cause that needs assistance,For the future in the distance,And the good that I can do.—George Linnæus Banks.

I live for those who love me;

For those I know are true;

For the heaven that smiles above me

And awaits my spirit too;

For all human ties that bind me,

For the task my God assigned me,

For the bright hope left behind me,

And the good that I can do.

I live to learn their storyWho suffered for my sake,To emulate their gloryAnd follow in their wake;Bards, martyrs, patriots, sages,The nobles of all ages.Whose deeds crown History's pagesAnd time's great volume make.

I live to learn their story

Who suffered for my sake,

To emulate their glory

And follow in their wake;

Bards, martyrs, patriots, sages,

The nobles of all ages.

Whose deeds crown History's pages

And time's great volume make.

I live to hail the season—By gifted minds foretold—When man shall live by reason,And not alone for gold;When man to man united,And every wrong thing righted,The whole world shall be lightedAs Eden was of old.

I live to hail the season—

By gifted minds foretold—

When man shall live by reason,

And not alone for gold;

When man to man united,

And every wrong thing righted,

The whole world shall be lighted

As Eden was of old.

I live to hold communionWith all that is divine,To feel that there is union'Twixt nature's heart and mine;To profit by affliction,Reap truth from fields of fiction,Grow wiser from conviction,Fulfilling God's design.

I live to hold communion

With all that is divine,

To feel that there is union

'Twixt nature's heart and mine;

To profit by affliction,

Reap truth from fields of fiction,

Grow wiser from conviction,

Fulfilling God's design.

I live for those who love me,For those who know me true,For the heaven that smiles above meAnd awaits my spirit too;For the wrongs that need resistance,For the cause that needs assistance,For the future in the distance,And the good that I can do.

I live for those who love me,

For those who know me true,

For the heaven that smiles above me

And awaits my spirit too;

For the wrongs that need resistance,

For the cause that needs assistance,

For the future in the distance,

And the good that I can do.

—George Linnæus Banks.

———

Beautiful faces are those that wear—It matters little if dark or fair—Whole-souled honesty printed there.Beautiful eyes are those that showLike crystal panes where hearth fires glow,Beautiful thoughts that burn below.Beautiful lips are those whose wordsLeap from the heart like songs of birds,Yet whose utterances prudence girds.Beautiful hands are those that doWork that is earnest, and brave, and true,Moment by moment the long day through.Beautiful feet are those that goOn kindly ministries to and fro—Down lowliest ways, if God wills it so.Beautiful shoulders are those that bearCeaseless burdens of homely careWith patient grace and daily prayer.Beautiful lives are those that bless—Silent rivers of happinessWhose hidden fountain but few may guess.Beautiful twilight, at set of sun;Beautiful goal, with race well won;Beautiful rest, with work well done.Beautiful graves, where grasses creep,Where brown leaves fall, where drifts lie deepOver worn-out hands—O, beautiful sleep.

Beautiful faces are those that wear—It matters little if dark or fair—Whole-souled honesty printed there.

Beautiful faces are those that wear—

It matters little if dark or fair—

Whole-souled honesty printed there.

Beautiful eyes are those that showLike crystal panes where hearth fires glow,Beautiful thoughts that burn below.

Beautiful eyes are those that show

Like crystal panes where hearth fires glow,

Beautiful thoughts that burn below.

Beautiful lips are those whose wordsLeap from the heart like songs of birds,Yet whose utterances prudence girds.

Beautiful lips are those whose words

Leap from the heart like songs of birds,

Yet whose utterances prudence girds.

Beautiful hands are those that doWork that is earnest, and brave, and true,Moment by moment the long day through.

Beautiful hands are those that do

Work that is earnest, and brave, and true,

Moment by moment the long day through.

Beautiful feet are those that goOn kindly ministries to and fro—Down lowliest ways, if God wills it so.

Beautiful feet are those that go

On kindly ministries to and fro—

Down lowliest ways, if God wills it so.

Beautiful shoulders are those that bearCeaseless burdens of homely careWith patient grace and daily prayer.

Beautiful shoulders are those that bear

Ceaseless burdens of homely care

With patient grace and daily prayer.

Beautiful lives are those that bless—Silent rivers of happinessWhose hidden fountain but few may guess.

Beautiful lives are those that bless—

Silent rivers of happiness

Whose hidden fountain but few may guess.

Beautiful twilight, at set of sun;Beautiful goal, with race well won;Beautiful rest, with work well done.

Beautiful twilight, at set of sun;

Beautiful goal, with race well won;

Beautiful rest, with work well done.

Beautiful graves, where grasses creep,Where brown leaves fall, where drifts lie deepOver worn-out hands—O, beautiful sleep.

Beautiful graves, where grasses creep,

Where brown leaves fall, where drifts lie deep

Over worn-out hands—O, beautiful sleep.

———

It isn't the thing you do, dear,It's the thing you've left undoneWhich gives you a bit of heartacheAt the setting of the sun.The tender word forgotten,The letter you did not write,The flower you might have sent, dear,Are your haunting ghosts to-night.The stone you might have liftedOut of a brother's way,The bit of heartsome counselYou were hurried too much to say,The loving touch of the hand, dear,The gentle and winsome toneThat you had no time or thought for,With troubles enough of your own.The little act of kindness,So easily out of mind;Those chances to be angels,Which every mortal finds—They come in night and silence—Each chill, reproachful wraith—When hope is faint and flagging,And a blight has dropped on faith.For life is all too short, dear,And sorrow is all too great,To suffer our slow compassionThat tarries until too late;And it's not the thing you do, dear,It's the thing you leave undone,Which gives you the bit of heartacheAt the setting of the sun.—Margaret E. Sangster.

It isn't the thing you do, dear,

It's the thing you've left undone

Which gives you a bit of heartache

At the setting of the sun.

The tender word forgotten,

The letter you did not write,

The flower you might have sent, dear,

Are your haunting ghosts to-night.

The stone you might have liftedOut of a brother's way,The bit of heartsome counselYou were hurried too much to say,The loving touch of the hand, dear,The gentle and winsome toneThat you had no time or thought for,With troubles enough of your own.

The stone you might have lifted

Out of a brother's way,

The bit of heartsome counsel

You were hurried too much to say,

The loving touch of the hand, dear,

The gentle and winsome tone

That you had no time or thought for,

With troubles enough of your own.

The little act of kindness,So easily out of mind;Those chances to be angels,Which every mortal finds—They come in night and silence—Each chill, reproachful wraith—When hope is faint and flagging,And a blight has dropped on faith.

The little act of kindness,

So easily out of mind;

Those chances to be angels,

Which every mortal finds—

They come in night and silence—

Each chill, reproachful wraith—

When hope is faint and flagging,

And a blight has dropped on faith.

For life is all too short, dear,And sorrow is all too great,To suffer our slow compassionThat tarries until too late;And it's not the thing you do, dear,It's the thing you leave undone,Which gives you the bit of heartacheAt the setting of the sun.

For life is all too short, dear,

And sorrow is all too great,

To suffer our slow compassion

That tarries until too late;

And it's not the thing you do, dear,

It's the thing you leave undone,

Which gives you the bit of heartache

At the setting of the sun.

—Margaret E. Sangster.

———

All are architects of Fate,Working in these walls of Time;Some with massive deeds and great,Some with ornaments of rhyme.Nothing useless is, or low;Each thing in its place is best;And what seems but idle showStrengthens and supports the rest.For the structure that we raiseTime is with material filled;Our to-days and yesterdaysAre the blocks with which we build.Truly shape and fashion these;Leave no yawning gaps between;Think not, because no man sees,Such things will remain unseen.In the elder days of ArtBuilders wrought with greatest careEach minute and unseen part;For the gods see everywhere.Let us do our work as well,Both the unseen and the seen;Make the house where gods may dwellBeautiful, entire, and clean;Else our lives are incomplete,Standing in these walls of Time,Broken stairways, where the feetStumble as they seek to climb.Build to-day, then, strong and sure,With a firm and ample base;And ascending and secureShall to-morrow find its place.Thus alone can we attainTo those turrets where the eyeSees the world as one vast plainAnd one boundless reach of sky.—Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.

All are architects of Fate,Working in these walls of Time;Some with massive deeds and great,Some with ornaments of rhyme.

All are architects of Fate,

Working in these walls of Time;

Some with massive deeds and great,

Some with ornaments of rhyme.

Nothing useless is, or low;Each thing in its place is best;And what seems but idle showStrengthens and supports the rest.

Nothing useless is, or low;

Each thing in its place is best;

And what seems but idle show

Strengthens and supports the rest.

For the structure that we raiseTime is with material filled;Our to-days and yesterdaysAre the blocks with which we build.

For the structure that we raise

Time is with material filled;

Our to-days and yesterdays

Are the blocks with which we build.

Truly shape and fashion these;Leave no yawning gaps between;Think not, because no man sees,Such things will remain unseen.

Truly shape and fashion these;

Leave no yawning gaps between;

Think not, because no man sees,

Such things will remain unseen.

In the elder days of ArtBuilders wrought with greatest careEach minute and unseen part;For the gods see everywhere.

In the elder days of Art

Builders wrought with greatest care

Each minute and unseen part;

For the gods see everywhere.

Let us do our work as well,Both the unseen and the seen;Make the house where gods may dwellBeautiful, entire, and clean;

Let us do our work as well,

Both the unseen and the seen;

Make the house where gods may dwell

Beautiful, entire, and clean;

Else our lives are incomplete,Standing in these walls of Time,Broken stairways, where the feetStumble as they seek to climb.

Else our lives are incomplete,

Standing in these walls of Time,

Broken stairways, where the feet

Stumble as they seek to climb.

Build to-day, then, strong and sure,With a firm and ample base;And ascending and secureShall to-morrow find its place.

Build to-day, then, strong and sure,

With a firm and ample base;

And ascending and secure

Shall to-morrow find its place.

Thus alone can we attainTo those turrets where the eyeSees the world as one vast plainAnd one boundless reach of sky.

Thus alone can we attain

To those turrets where the eye

Sees the world as one vast plain

And one boundless reach of sky.

—Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.

———

The stars shall fade away, the sun himselfGrow dim with age, and Nature sink in years,But thou shalt flourish in immortal youth,Unhurt amid the war of elements,The wreck of matter, and the crash of worlds.—Joseph Addison.

The stars shall fade away, the sun himself

Grow dim with age, and Nature sink in years,

But thou shalt flourish in immortal youth,

Unhurt amid the war of elements,

The wreck of matter, and the crash of worlds.

—Joseph Addison.

———

He was better to me than all my hopes,He was better than all my fears;He made a road of my broken worksAnd a rainbow of my tears.The billows that guarded my sea girt pathBut carried my Lord on their crest;When I dwell on the days of my wilderness marchI can lean on his love for the rest.He emptied my hands of my treasured storeAnd his covenant love revealed;There was not a wound in my aching heartBut the balm of his breath hath healed.Oh! tender and true was the chastening sore,In wisdom, that taught and tried,Till the soul that he sought was trusting in himAnd in nothing on earth beside.He guided by paths that I could not see,By ways that I have not known,The crooked was straight and the rough made plain,As I followed the Lord alone.I praise him still for the pleasant palmsAnd the water springs by the way;For the glowing pillars of flame by nightAnd the sheltering clouds by day.There is light for me on the trackless wildAs the wonders of old I trace,When the God of the whole earth went beforeTo search me a resting place.Has he changed for me? Nay! He changes not.He will bring me by some new way,Through fire and flood and each crafty foe,As safely as yesterday.And if to warfare he calls me forth,He buckles my armor on;He greets me with smiles and a word of cheerFor battles his sword hath won;He wipes my brows as I droop and faint,He blesses my hand to toil;Faithful is he as he washes my feet,From the trace of each earthly soil.Never a watch on the dreariest haltBut some promise of love endears;I read from the past that my future shall beFar better than all my fears.Like the golden pot of the wilderness bread,Laid up with the blossoming rod,All safe in the ark, with the law of the Lord,Is the covenant care of my God.—Anna Shipton.

He was better to me than all my hopes,

He was better than all my fears;

He made a road of my broken works

And a rainbow of my tears.

The billows that guarded my sea girt path

But carried my Lord on their crest;

When I dwell on the days of my wilderness march

I can lean on his love for the rest.

He emptied my hands of my treasured storeAnd his covenant love revealed;There was not a wound in my aching heartBut the balm of his breath hath healed.Oh! tender and true was the chastening sore,In wisdom, that taught and tried,Till the soul that he sought was trusting in himAnd in nothing on earth beside.

He emptied my hands of my treasured store

And his covenant love revealed;

There was not a wound in my aching heart

But the balm of his breath hath healed.

Oh! tender and true was the chastening sore,

In wisdom, that taught and tried,

Till the soul that he sought was trusting in him

And in nothing on earth beside.

He guided by paths that I could not see,By ways that I have not known,The crooked was straight and the rough made plain,As I followed the Lord alone.I praise him still for the pleasant palmsAnd the water springs by the way;For the glowing pillars of flame by nightAnd the sheltering clouds by day.

He guided by paths that I could not see,

By ways that I have not known,

The crooked was straight and the rough made plain,

As I followed the Lord alone.

I praise him still for the pleasant palms

And the water springs by the way;

For the glowing pillars of flame by night

And the sheltering clouds by day.

There is light for me on the trackless wildAs the wonders of old I trace,When the God of the whole earth went beforeTo search me a resting place.Has he changed for me? Nay! He changes not.He will bring me by some new way,Through fire and flood and each crafty foe,As safely as yesterday.

There is light for me on the trackless wild

As the wonders of old I trace,

When the God of the whole earth went before

To search me a resting place.

Has he changed for me? Nay! He changes not.

He will bring me by some new way,

Through fire and flood and each crafty foe,

As safely as yesterday.

And if to warfare he calls me forth,He buckles my armor on;He greets me with smiles and a word of cheerFor battles his sword hath won;He wipes my brows as I droop and faint,He blesses my hand to toil;Faithful is he as he washes my feet,From the trace of each earthly soil.

And if to warfare he calls me forth,

He buckles my armor on;

He greets me with smiles and a word of cheer

For battles his sword hath won;

He wipes my brows as I droop and faint,

He blesses my hand to toil;

Faithful is he as he washes my feet,

From the trace of each earthly soil.

Never a watch on the dreariest haltBut some promise of love endears;I read from the past that my future shall beFar better than all my fears.Like the golden pot of the wilderness bread,Laid up with the blossoming rod,All safe in the ark, with the law of the Lord,Is the covenant care of my God.

Never a watch on the dreariest halt

But some promise of love endears;

I read from the past that my future shall be

Far better than all my fears.

Like the golden pot of the wilderness bread,

Laid up with the blossoming rod,

All safe in the ark, with the law of the Lord,

Is the covenant care of my God.

—Anna Shipton.

———

O to serve God for a day!From jubilant morn to the peace and the calm of the nightTo tread no path but his happy and blossoming way,To seek no delightBut the joy that is one with the joy at heaven's heart;Only to go where thou art,O God of all blessing and beauty! to love, to obeyWith obedience sweetened by love and love made strong by the right;Not once, not once to be drunken with self,Or to play the hypocrite's poisoned part,Or to bend the knee of my soul to the passion for pelf,Or the glittering gods of the mart;Through each glad hour to lay on the wings of its flightSome flower for the angels' sight;Some fragrant fashion of service, scarlet and white—White for the pure intent, and red where the pulses start.O, if thus I could serve him, could perfectly serve him one day,I think I could perfectly serve him forever—forever and aye!—Amos R. Wells.

O to serve God for a day!

From jubilant morn to the peace and the calm of the night

To tread no path but his happy and blossoming way,

To seek no delight

But the joy that is one with the joy at heaven's heart;

Only to go where thou art,

O God of all blessing and beauty! to love, to obey

With obedience sweetened by love and love made strong by the right;

Not once, not once to be drunken with self,

Or to play the hypocrite's poisoned part,

Or to bend the knee of my soul to the passion for pelf,

Or the glittering gods of the mart;

Through each glad hour to lay on the wings of its flight

Some flower for the angels' sight;

Some fragrant fashion of service, scarlet and white—

White for the pure intent, and red where the pulses start.

O, if thus I could serve him, could perfectly serve him one day,

I think I could perfectly serve him forever—forever and aye!

—Amos R. Wells.

———

Life is a burden; bear it.Life is a duty; dare it.Life is a thorn crown; wear it.Though it break your heart in twain,Though the burden crush you down,Close your lips and hide the pain;First the cross and then the crown.

Life is a burden; bear it.

Life is a duty; dare it.

Life is a thorn crown; wear it.

Though it break your heart in twain,

Though the burden crush you down,

Close your lips and hide the pain;

First the cross and then the crown.

———

Better to smell the violet cool than sip the glowing wine;Better to hark a hidden brook than watch a diamond shine.Better the love of gentle heart than beauty's favors proud,Better the rose's living seed than roses in a crowd.Better to love in loneliness than bask in love all day;Better the fountain in the heart than the fountain by the way.Better be fed by a mother's hand than eat alone at will;Better to trust in God than say, My goods my storehouse fill.Better to be a little wise than in knowledge to abound;Better to teach a child than toil to fill perfection's round.Better sit at a master's feet than thrill a listening state;Better suspect that thou art proud than be sure that thou art great.Better to walk in the realm unseen than watch the hour's event;Better thewell doneat the last than the air with shoutings rent.Better to have a quiet grief than a hurrying delight;Better the twilight of the dawn than the noonday burning bright.Better to sit at the water's birth than a sea of waves to win;To live in the love that floweth forth than the love that cometh in.Better a death when work is done than earth's most favored birth;Better a child in God's great house than the king of all the earth.—George Macdonald.

Better to smell the violet cool than sip the glowing wine;Better to hark a hidden brook than watch a diamond shine.

Better to smell the violet cool than sip the glowing wine;

Better to hark a hidden brook than watch a diamond shine.

Better the love of gentle heart than beauty's favors proud,Better the rose's living seed than roses in a crowd.

Better the love of gentle heart than beauty's favors proud,

Better the rose's living seed than roses in a crowd.

Better to love in loneliness than bask in love all day;Better the fountain in the heart than the fountain by the way.

Better to love in loneliness than bask in love all day;

Better the fountain in the heart than the fountain by the way.

Better be fed by a mother's hand than eat alone at will;Better to trust in God than say, My goods my storehouse fill.

Better be fed by a mother's hand than eat alone at will;

Better to trust in God than say, My goods my storehouse fill.

Better to be a little wise than in knowledge to abound;Better to teach a child than toil to fill perfection's round.

Better to be a little wise than in knowledge to abound;

Better to teach a child than toil to fill perfection's round.

Better sit at a master's feet than thrill a listening state;Better suspect that thou art proud than be sure that thou art great.

Better sit at a master's feet than thrill a listening state;

Better suspect that thou art proud than be sure that thou art great.

Better to walk in the realm unseen than watch the hour's event;Better thewell doneat the last than the air with shoutings rent.

Better to walk in the realm unseen than watch the hour's event;

Better thewell doneat the last than the air with shoutings rent.

Better to have a quiet grief than a hurrying delight;Better the twilight of the dawn than the noonday burning bright.

Better to have a quiet grief than a hurrying delight;

Better the twilight of the dawn than the noonday burning bright.

Better to sit at the water's birth than a sea of waves to win;To live in the love that floweth forth than the love that cometh in.

Better to sit at the water's birth than a sea of waves to win;

To live in the love that floweth forth than the love that cometh in.

Better a death when work is done than earth's most favored birth;Better a child in God's great house than the king of all the earth.

Better a death when work is done than earth's most favored birth;

Better a child in God's great house than the king of all the earth.

—George Macdonald.

———

Time is indeed a precious boon,But with the boon a task is given:The heart must learn its duty wellTo man on earth and God in heaven.—Eliza Cook.

Time is indeed a precious boon,But with the boon a task is given:The heart must learn its duty wellTo man on earth and God in heaven.

Time is indeed a precious boon,

But with the boon a task is given:

The heart must learn its duty well

To man on earth and God in heaven.

—Eliza Cook.

———

Are your sorrows hard to bear?Life is short!Do you drag the chain of care?Life is short!Soon will come the glad releaseInto rest and joy and peace;Soon the weary thread be spun,And the final labor done.Keep your courage! Hold the fort!Life is short!Are you faint with hope delayed?Life is long!Tarries that for which you prayed?Life is long!What delights may not abide—What ambitions satisfied—What possessions may not beIn God's great eternity?Lift the heart! Be glad and strong!Life is long!—Amos R. Wells.

Are your sorrows hard to bear?

Life is short!

Do you drag the chain of care?

Life is short!

Soon will come the glad release

Into rest and joy and peace;

Soon the weary thread be spun,

And the final labor done.

Keep your courage! Hold the fort!

Life is short!

Are you faint with hope delayed?Life is long!Tarries that for which you prayed?Life is long!What delights may not abide—What ambitions satisfied—What possessions may not beIn God's great eternity?Lift the heart! Be glad and strong!Life is long!

Are you faint with hope delayed?

Life is long!

Tarries that for which you prayed?

Life is long!

What delights may not abide—

What ambitions satisfied—

What possessions may not be

In God's great eternity?

Lift the heart! Be glad and strong!

Life is long!

—Amos R. Wells.

———

Is life worth living? Yes, so longAs there is wrong to right,Wail of the weak against the strong,Or tyranny to fight;Long as there lingers gloom to chase,Or streaming tear to dry,One kindred woe, one sorrowing face,That smiles as we draw nigh;Long asatale of anguish swellsThe heart and lids grow wet,And at the sound of Christmas bellsWe pardon and forget;So long as Faith with Freedom reignsAnd loyal Hope survives,And gracious Charity remainsTo leaven lowly lives;While there is one untrodden tractFor Intellect or Will,And men are free to think and act,Life is worth living still.—Alfred Austin.

Is life worth living? Yes, so long

As there is wrong to right,

Wail of the weak against the strong,

Or tyranny to fight;

Long as there lingers gloom to chase,

Or streaming tear to dry,

One kindred woe, one sorrowing face,

That smiles as we draw nigh;

Long asatale of anguish swells

The heart and lids grow wet,

And at the sound of Christmas bells

We pardon and forget;

So long as Faith with Freedom reigns

And loyal Hope survives,

And gracious Charity remains

To leaven lowly lives;

While there is one untrodden tract

For Intellect or Will,

And men are free to think and act,

Life is worth living still.

—Alfred Austin.

———

The Moving Finger writes, and having writMoves on; nor all thy piety nor witShall lure it back to cancel half a line,Nor all thy tears wash out a word of it.—Omar Khayyam.

The Moving Finger writes, and having writMoves on; nor all thy piety nor witShall lure it back to cancel half a line,Nor all thy tears wash out a word of it.

The Moving Finger writes, and having writ

Moves on; nor all thy piety nor wit

Shall lure it back to cancel half a line,

Nor all thy tears wash out a word of it.

—Omar Khayyam.

———

He liveth long who liveth well;All other life is short and vain;He liveth longest who can tellOf living most for heavenly gain.He liveth long who liveth well;All else is being flung away;He liveth longest who can tellOf true things truly done each day.Waste not thy being; back to himWho freely gave it, freely give;Else is that being but a dream;'Tis but tobe, and not tolive.Be wise, and use thy wisdom well;Who wisdomspeaksmustliveit too;He is the wisest who can tellHow first he lived, then spoke the true.Be what thou seemest! live thy creed!Hold up to earth the torch divine;Be what thou prayest to be made;Let the great Master's steps be thine.Fill up each hour with what will last;Buy up the moments as they go;The life above, when this is past,Is the ripe fruit of life below.Sow truth if thou the true wouldst reap;Who sows the false shall reap the vain;Erect and sound thy conscience keep;From hollow words and deeds refrain.Sow love, and taste its fruitage pure;Sow peace and reap its harvest bright;Sow sunbeams on the rock and moor,And find a harvest-home of light.—Horatius Bonar.

He liveth long who liveth well;All other life is short and vain;He liveth longest who can tellOf living most for heavenly gain.

He liveth long who liveth well;

All other life is short and vain;

He liveth longest who can tell

Of living most for heavenly gain.

He liveth long who liveth well;All else is being flung away;He liveth longest who can tellOf true things truly done each day.

He liveth long who liveth well;

All else is being flung away;

He liveth longest who can tell

Of true things truly done each day.

Waste not thy being; back to himWho freely gave it, freely give;Else is that being but a dream;'Tis but tobe, and not tolive.

Waste not thy being; back to him

Who freely gave it, freely give;

Else is that being but a dream;

'Tis but tobe, and not tolive.

Be wise, and use thy wisdom well;Who wisdomspeaksmustliveit too;He is the wisest who can tellHow first he lived, then spoke the true.

Be wise, and use thy wisdom well;

Who wisdomspeaksmustliveit too;

He is the wisest who can tell

How first he lived, then spoke the true.

Be what thou seemest! live thy creed!Hold up to earth the torch divine;Be what thou prayest to be made;Let the great Master's steps be thine.

Be what thou seemest! live thy creed!

Hold up to earth the torch divine;

Be what thou prayest to be made;

Let the great Master's steps be thine.

Fill up each hour with what will last;Buy up the moments as they go;The life above, when this is past,Is the ripe fruit of life below.

Fill up each hour with what will last;

Buy up the moments as they go;

The life above, when this is past,

Is the ripe fruit of life below.

Sow truth if thou the true wouldst reap;Who sows the false shall reap the vain;Erect and sound thy conscience keep;From hollow words and deeds refrain.

Sow truth if thou the true wouldst reap;

Who sows the false shall reap the vain;

Erect and sound thy conscience keep;

From hollow words and deeds refrain.

Sow love, and taste its fruitage pure;Sow peace and reap its harvest bright;Sow sunbeams on the rock and moor,And find a harvest-home of light.

Sow love, and taste its fruitage pure;

Sow peace and reap its harvest bright;

Sow sunbeams on the rock and moor,

And find a harvest-home of light.

—Horatius Bonar.

———

We would fill the hours with the sweetest thingsIf we had but a day;We should drink alone at the purest springsIn our upward way;We should love with a lifetime's love in an hourIf the hours were few;We should rest not for dreams, but for fresher powerTo be and to do.We should guide our wayward or wearied willsBy the clearest light;We should keep our eyes on the heavenly hillsIf they lay in sight;We should trample the pride and the discontentBeneath our feet;We should take whatever a good God sent,With a trust complete.We should waste no moments in weak regretIf the day were but one;If what we remember and what we forgetWent out with the sun;We should be from our clamorous selves set freeTo work and to pray,And to be what the Father would have us to be,If we had but a day.—Mary Lowe Dickinson.

We would fill the hours with the sweetest things

If we had but a day;

We should drink alone at the purest springs

In our upward way;

We should love with a lifetime's love in an hour

If the hours were few;

We should rest not for dreams, but for fresher power

To be and to do.

We should guide our wayward or wearied willsBy the clearest light;We should keep our eyes on the heavenly hillsIf they lay in sight;We should trample the pride and the discontentBeneath our feet;We should take whatever a good God sent,With a trust complete.

We should guide our wayward or wearied wills

By the clearest light;

We should keep our eyes on the heavenly hills

If they lay in sight;

We should trample the pride and the discontent

Beneath our feet;

We should take whatever a good God sent,

With a trust complete.

We should waste no moments in weak regretIf the day were but one;If what we remember and what we forgetWent out with the sun;We should be from our clamorous selves set freeTo work and to pray,And to be what the Father would have us to be,If we had but a day.

We should waste no moments in weak regret

If the day were but one;

If what we remember and what we forget

Went out with the sun;

We should be from our clamorous selves set free

To work and to pray,

And to be what the Father would have us to be,

If we had but a day.

—Mary Lowe Dickinson.

———

Ye who would have your features florid,Lithe limbs, bright eyes, unwrinkled forehead,From age's devastation horrid,Adopt this plan—'Twill make, in climate cold or torrid,A hale old man:Avoid in youth luxurious diet;Restrain the passion's lawless riot;Devoted to domestic quiet,Be wisely gay;So shall ye, spite of age's fiat,Resist decay.Seek not in Mammon's worship pleasure,But find your richest, dearest treasureIn God, his word, his work; not leisure.The mind, not sense,Is the sole scale by which to measureYour opulence.This is the solace, this the science,Life's purest, sweetest, best appliance,That disappoints not man's reliance,Whate'er his state;But challenges, with calm defiance,Time, fortune, fate.—Horace Smith.

Ye who would have your features florid,Lithe limbs, bright eyes, unwrinkled forehead,From age's devastation horrid,Adopt this plan—'Twill make, in climate cold or torrid,A hale old man:

Ye who would have your features florid,

Lithe limbs, bright eyes, unwrinkled forehead,

From age's devastation horrid,

Adopt this plan—

'Twill make, in climate cold or torrid,

A hale old man:

Avoid in youth luxurious diet;Restrain the passion's lawless riot;Devoted to domestic quiet,Be wisely gay;So shall ye, spite of age's fiat,Resist decay.

Avoid in youth luxurious diet;

Restrain the passion's lawless riot;

Devoted to domestic quiet,

Be wisely gay;

So shall ye, spite of age's fiat,

Resist decay.

Seek not in Mammon's worship pleasure,But find your richest, dearest treasureIn God, his word, his work; not leisure.The mind, not sense,Is the sole scale by which to measureYour opulence.

Seek not in Mammon's worship pleasure,

But find your richest, dearest treasure

In God, his word, his work; not leisure.

The mind, not sense,

Is the sole scale by which to measure

Your opulence.

This is the solace, this the science,Life's purest, sweetest, best appliance,That disappoints not man's reliance,Whate'er his state;But challenges, with calm defiance,Time, fortune, fate.

This is the solace, this the science,

Life's purest, sweetest, best appliance,

That disappoints not man's reliance,

Whate'er his state;

But challenges, with calm defiance,

Time, fortune, fate.

—Horace Smith.

———

Strength for to-day is all that we need,As there never will be a to-morrow;For to-morrow will prove but another to-day,With its measure of joy and sorrow.Then why forecast the trials of lifeWith such sad and grave persistence,And watch and wait for a crowd of illsThat as yet have no existence?Strength for to-day—what a precious boonFor the earnest souls who labor,For the willing hands that ministerTo the needy friend and neighbor.Strength for to-day—that the weary heartsIn the battle for right may quail not,And the eyes bedimmed with bitter tearsIn their search for light may fail not.Strength for to-day, on the down-hill track,For the travelers near the valley,That up, far up, the other sideEre long they may safely rally.Strength for to-day—that our precious youthMay happily shun temptation,And build, from the rise to the set of the sun,On a strong and sure foundation.Strength for to-day, in house and home,To practice forbearance sweetly;To scatter kind deeds and loving wordsStill trusting in God completely.

Strength for to-day is all that we need,As there never will be a to-morrow;For to-morrow will prove but another to-day,With its measure of joy and sorrow.

Strength for to-day is all that we need,

As there never will be a to-morrow;

For to-morrow will prove but another to-day,

With its measure of joy and sorrow.

Then why forecast the trials of lifeWith such sad and grave persistence,And watch and wait for a crowd of illsThat as yet have no existence?

Then why forecast the trials of life

With such sad and grave persistence,

And watch and wait for a crowd of ills

That as yet have no existence?

Strength for to-day—what a precious boonFor the earnest souls who labor,For the willing hands that ministerTo the needy friend and neighbor.

Strength for to-day—what a precious boon

For the earnest souls who labor,

For the willing hands that minister

To the needy friend and neighbor.

Strength for to-day—that the weary heartsIn the battle for right may quail not,And the eyes bedimmed with bitter tearsIn their search for light may fail not.

Strength for to-day—that the weary hearts

In the battle for right may quail not,

And the eyes bedimmed with bitter tears

In their search for light may fail not.

Strength for to-day, on the down-hill track,For the travelers near the valley,That up, far up, the other sideEre long they may safely rally.

Strength for to-day, on the down-hill track,

For the travelers near the valley,

That up, far up, the other side

Ere long they may safely rally.

Strength for to-day—that our precious youthMay happily shun temptation,And build, from the rise to the set of the sun,On a strong and sure foundation.

Strength for to-day—that our precious youth

May happily shun temptation,

And build, from the rise to the set of the sun,

On a strong and sure foundation.

Strength for to-day, in house and home,To practice forbearance sweetly;To scatter kind deeds and loving wordsStill trusting in God completely.

Strength for to-day, in house and home,

To practice forbearance sweetly;

To scatter kind deeds and loving words

Still trusting in God completely.

———

Like the starThat shines afarWithout hasteAnd without rest,Let each man wheel with steady swayRound the task that rules the day,And do his best!—Johann Wolfgang von Goethe.

Like the starThat shines afarWithout hasteAnd without rest,Let each man wheel with steady swayRound the task that rules the day,And do his best!

Like the star

That shines afar

Without haste

And without rest,

Let each man wheel with steady sway

Round the task that rules the day,

And do his best!

—Johann Wolfgang von Goethe.

———

Who learns and learns, and acts not what he knows,Is one who plows and plows, but never sows.

Who learns and learns, and acts not what he knows,

Is one who plows and plows, but never sows.

———

Lo here hath been dawningAnother blue day;Think; wilt thou let itSlip useless away?Out of eternityThis new day is born;Into eternityAt night will return.Behold it aforetimeNo eye ever did;So soon it foreverFrom all eyes is hid.Here hath been dawningAnother blue day;Think; wilt thou let itSlip useless away?—Thomas Carlyle.

Lo here hath been dawning

Another blue day;

Think; wilt thou let it

Slip useless away?

Out of eternity

This new day is born;

Into eternity

At night will return.

Behold it aforetime

No eye ever did;

So soon it forever

From all eyes is hid.

Here hath been dawning

Another blue day;

Think; wilt thou let it

Slip useless away?

—Thomas Carlyle.

———

Lord, for to-morrow and its needsI do not pray;Keep me, my God, from stain of sinJust for to-day.Help me to labor earnestly,And duly pray;Let me be kind in word and deed,Father, to-day.Let me no wrong or idle wordUnthinking say;Set thou a seal upon my lipsThrough all to-day.Let me in season, Lord, be grave,In season gay;Let me be faithful to thy grace,Dear Lord, to-day.And if, to-day, this life of mineShould ebb away,Give me thy sacrament divine,Father, to-day.So for to-morrow and its needsI do not pray;Still keep me, guide me, love me, Lord,Through each to-day.—Ernest R. Wilberforce.

Lord, for to-morrow and its needsI do not pray;Keep me, my God, from stain of sinJust for to-day.Help me to labor earnestly,And duly pray;Let me be kind in word and deed,Father, to-day.

Lord, for to-morrow and its needs

I do not pray;

Keep me, my God, from stain of sin

Just for to-day.

Help me to labor earnestly,

And duly pray;

Let me be kind in word and deed,

Father, to-day.

Let me no wrong or idle wordUnthinking say;Set thou a seal upon my lipsThrough all to-day.Let me in season, Lord, be grave,In season gay;Let me be faithful to thy grace,Dear Lord, to-day.

Let me no wrong or idle word

Unthinking say;

Set thou a seal upon my lips

Through all to-day.

Let me in season, Lord, be grave,

In season gay;

Let me be faithful to thy grace,

Dear Lord, to-day.

And if, to-day, this life of mineShould ebb away,Give me thy sacrament divine,Father, to-day.So for to-morrow and its needsI do not pray;Still keep me, guide me, love me, Lord,Through each to-day.

And if, to-day, this life of mine

Should ebb away,

Give me thy sacrament divine,

Father, to-day.

So for to-morrow and its needs

I do not pray;

Still keep me, guide me, love me, Lord,

Through each to-day.

—Ernest R. Wilberforce.

———

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