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There seemed an answer given

By one unseen, who whispered thus:
"Your Father is in heaven."

Oh, blessed comfort! I could stretch
My hands to God on high,

And know that, 'mid the billows' roar,
My Father heard my cry.

"O Father, if my grave this night
Should be the stormy sea!
Then, in Thy mercy take my soul
To dwell on high with Thee."

The day dawned slowly, as had passed
The long and dreary night;

And tidings came, at last, of hope-
A ship had hove in sight.

A boat was lowered, the captain's child
Was handed to the mate.

"Are you not coming, father?" "No,
My darling, I must wait.

"I cannot leave my ship, for to

My trust I must be true."

"Then, take me, take me back again, Father, I'll stay with you."

"But, darling, you must understand I cannot quit the wreck."

"Nor, father, can I you," she cried, And clasped him round the neck.

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I watched them as we steered away;
I saw them stand, those twain,
Together on the lonely deck,
Upon the stormy main.

It was a lesson to my soul,

That simple trust of youth;

That I should cling with childlike trust
Unto my Father's truth.

For He this promise makes, who ne'er
His word or promise brake;

That He His own will never leave,
And never will forsake.

Thus would I trust Him to the end,

Upon life's stormy sea.

I know I cannot but be safe,

He will abide with me.

Nor was the child's young faith belied,

She did not trust in vain.

The storm was hushed; the tempest ceased To strive upon the main.

And ere went out, far in the west,

The sunset's latest ray,

The gallant captain, and his ship,
Were safe within the bay.

And a pale face looked up at his,
With gladness on its brow;
"If I had left you, father, then,
I'd not be with you now.

"If I had left you, father, then,
To night I should not be
At home with you, but far away

With others on the sea."

The father raised his hand, and dashed

Aside a falling tear;

"Yes, child, had you not trusted then, You had not now been here."

Oh, brother, is our Father, God,
The God you love and trust?
For other faith, save faith in Him,
Is worthless as the dust.

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And gathered from blossoming hedgerows,
In the meadows and the lanes,
Many flowers they had strung together
In bracelets and crowns and chains.

But, tiring soon of this pastime,
In idle strife they tore

The garlands their hands had woven
And the mimic crowns they wore;
And then, when the sun was hottest,
At noon upon the grass

'Neath the sheltering trees they rested,
Idly watching the strangers pass.

But none of the many who passed them
Looked on the children there,
Hiding beneath the elm-trees

From the noonday sun's bright glare;
Till One who alone was journeying
Saw them, and turned away

From the road, and smiling called them, "Are you tired so soon of your play?”

"Now, suppose, little children, I'd something
So beautiful, bright, and rare,
To give you, if only you'd keep it
With patience and tender care;
And to-day, before the sunset,
Carried it safely for me
Over to yonder palace

On the heights that front the sea?"?

With eager clamour the children
Pressed around him and besought
Each for a share of the treasure

That their stranger friend had brought.
For an instant a glad smile lighted
His face-from his wallet he drew

A vase of white alabaster,

Lovely in shape and hue,

And he held it up before them

In the sunlight glistening; Each little hand was lifted

To grasp the beautiful thing!

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