Such is the bliss of souls serene,
When they have sworn, and steadfast mean,
Counting the cost, in all to espy
Their God, in all themselves deny.
O could we learn that sacrifice,
What lights would all around us rise!
How would our hearts with wisdom talk,
Along life's dullest dreariest walk!
We need not bid, for cloistered cell,
Our neighbour and our work farewell,
Nor strive to wind ourselves too high
For sinful man beneath the sky.
The trivial round, the common task,
Would furnish all we ought to ask;
Room to deny ourselves; a road
To lead us, daily, nearer God.
Seek we no more, content with these!
Let present rapture, comfort, ease,
As heaven shall bid them, come and go;
The secret this of rest below.
Only, O Lord, in thy dear love,
Fit us for perfect rest above;
And help us this and every day,
To live more nearly as we pray.
CHRISTIAN YEAR.
Closer, closer let us knit
Hearts and hands together: Where our fireside comforts sit In the wildest weather;
Oh! they wander wide, who roam
For the joys of life from home.
May still dearer bands of love
Draw our souls in union,
To our Father's home above,
To the saints' communion:
Thither may our hopes ascend,
There may all our troubles end.
MORNING AND EVENING.
Sweet is the breath of morn, her rising sweet,
With charm of earliest birds; pleasant the sun,
When first, on this delightful land, he spreads
His orient beams on herb, tree, fruit, and flower,
Glistering with dew; fragrant the fertile earth
After soft showers; and sweet the coming on
Of grateful evening mild; then silent night,
With this her solemn bird, and this fair moon,
And these, the gems of heaven, her starry train.
MILTON.
Ere the morning's busy ray
Call you to your work away,
Ere the silent evening close
Your wearied eyes in sweet repose,
To lift your heart and voice in prayer,
Be your first and latest care;
And oh! where'er your days be past,
And oh! howe'er your lot be cast,
Still think on Him whose eye surveys,
Whose hand is over all your ways.
There's not a star whose twinkling light
Illumes the distant earth,
And cheers the solemn gloom of night,
But mercy gave it birth.
There's not a cloud whose dews distil
Upon the parching clod,
And clothe with verdure vale and hill,
That is not sent by God.
There's not a place in earth's vast round,
In ocean deep, or air,
Where skill and wisdom are not found,
For God is everywhere.
Around, beneath, below, above,
Wherever space extends,
There God displays his boundless love,
And power with mercy blends.
THE STREAMLET.
I saw a little streamlet flow
Along a peaceful vale;
A thread of silver, soft and slow,
It wandered down the dale.
Just to do good it seemed to move,
Directed by the hand of Love.
The valley smiled in living green,
A tree, which near it gave
From noontide heat a friendly screen,
Drank of its limpid wave.
The swallow brushed it with her wing,
And followed its meandering.
But not alone to plant and bird,
That little stream was known,
Its gentle murmur far was heard,
A friend's familiar tone.
It glided by the cotter's door,
It blessed the labours of the poor.
And would that I could thus be found,
While travelling life's brief way,
A humble friend to all around,
Where'er my footsteps stray,
Like that pure stream with tranquil breast,
Like it, still blessing and still blest.
Above, below, where'er I gaze
A charge to keep I have...
A little bird built a warm nest in a tree..
Alas! I am an orphan boy
All places that the eye of heaven visits
All the little flowers I see
Almighty God! by thy great power
A nightingale that all day long
Answer me, burning stars of night..
Around the fire one wintry night
Arouse thee, soul......
A weaver sat by the side of his loom.
But, above all, the victory is most sure
Come here, little robin, come here to me
Commit thou all thy griefs.
Come, said Jesus' sacred voice
Come, take up your hats and away let us haste
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