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Adversa Mundi Tolera.

Patiendo fit homo melior,
Auro pulchrior, vitro clarior,
A vitiis purgatior,
Virtutibus perfectior:

Jesu Christo acceptior,
Sanctis quoque similior,
Hostibus suis fortior,

Amicis amabilior.

Endure the World's rude Buffetings. 79

By patience man becomes more excellent,
Fairer than gold, clear as the firmament,
More pure from each vile element,
In every grace more eminent:

To Jesus more acceptable,
More like to saints unblamable,
To enemies more terrible,

And to his friends more lovable.

A CITY THAT HATH FOUNDATIONS.

THEREFORE, O friend, I would not, if I might, Rebuild my house of lies, wherein I joyed One time to dwell: my soul shall walk in white, Cast down, but not destroyed.

Therefore in patience I possess my

soul;

Yea, therefore as a flint I set my face,

To pluck down, to build up again the whole, — But in a distant place.

These thorns are sharp, yet I can tread on them;
This cup is loathsome, yet He makes it sweet;
My face is steadfast toward Jerusalem,
My heart remembers it,

I lift the hanging hands, the feeble knees,
I, precious more than seven times molten

gold,

Until the day when from his storehouses

God shall bring new and old;

A City that hath Foundations. 81 Beauty for ashes, oil of joy for grief,

Garment of praise for spirit of heaviness;
Although to-day I fade as doth a leaf,
I languish and grow less.

Although to-day he prunes my twigs with pain,

Yet doth his blood nourish and warm my root: To-morrow I shall put forth buds again, And clothe myself with fruit.

Although to-day I walk in tedious ways,
To-day his staff is turned into a rod, -
Yet will I wait for him the appointed days,
And stay upon my God.

"REJOICE EVERMORE."

BUT how should we be glad? We, that are journeying through a vale of tears, Encompast with a thousand woes and fears, How should we not be sad?

Angels that ever stand

Within the presence-chamber, and there raise
The never-interrupted hymn of praise,
May welcome this command.

Or they whose strife is o'er,

Who all their weary length of life have trod,
As pillars now within the temple of God,
That shall go out no more.

But we, who wander here, We that are exiled in this gloomy place, Still doomed to water earth's unthankful face With many a bitter tear,