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The heart that ministers for Thee

In thy own work will rest ;
And the subject spirit of a child

Can serve thy children best.
Mine be the reverent, listening love,

That waits all day on Thee,
With the service of a watchful heart

Which no one else can see-
The faith that, in a hidden way,

No other eye may know,
Finds all its daily work prepared,

And loves to have it so.
My heart is resting, () my God,

My heart is in Thy care-
I hear the voice of joy and health

Resounding every where.
'Thou art my portion,' saith my soul,

Ten thousand voices say,
And the music of their glad Amen
Will never die away.

ANNA LÆTITIA WAKING,

A THANKSGIVING.

• Thou in faithfulness hast afflicted me.'

LORD, in this dust thy sovereign voice

First quickened love divine ;
I am all thine,—thy care and choice,

My very praise is thine.

I praise Thee, while thy providence

In childhood frail I trace, For blessings given, ere dawning sense

Could seek or scan thy grace ;

Blessings in boyhood's marvelling hour;

Bright dreams, and fancyings strange ; Blessings, when reason's awful power

Gave thought a bolder range ;

Blessings of friends, which to my door

Unasked, unhoped, have come; And, choicer still, a countless store

Of eager smiles at home.

Yet, Lord, in memory's fondest place

I shrine those seasons sad, When, looking up, I saw thy face

In kind austereness clad.

I would not miss one sigh or tear,

Heart-pang, or throbbing brow; Sweet was the chastisement severe,

And sweet its memory now.

Yes ! let the fragrant scars abide,

Love-tokens in thy stead, Faint shadows of the spear-pierced side

And thorn-encompassed head.

And such thy tender force be still,

When self would swerve or stray ; Shaping to truth the froward will

Along thy narrow way.

Deny me wealth ; far, far remove

The lure of power or name ;
Hope thrives in straits, in weakness love,
And faith in this world's shame.

JOHN HENRY NEWMAN.

HAPPY MEMORIES.

O

HAPPY days, O months, O years,

Which, even in this dim world of woe, 'Tis now impossible can show The print of grief, the stain of tears :

O blessed times, which now no more

Exposed to chance or change remain ;

Which having been, no after stain Can dim the brightness that ye wore :

Dark shadows of approaching ill

Fall thick upon life's forward track;

But on its past they stream not back, What once was bright remains so still.

RICHARD CHENEVIX TRENCH. LIFE OF LIFE.

WHAT'S that, which, ere I spake, was gone!

So joyful and intense a spark That, whilst o'erhead the wonder shone,

The day, before but dull, grew dark ? I do not know ; but this I know,

That, had the splendour lived a year, The truth that I some heavenly show

Did see, could not be now more clear.

This know I too: might mortal breath

Express the passion then inspired, Evil would die a natural death,

And nothing transient be desired;

And error from the soul would pass,

And leave the senses pure and strong
As sunbeams. But the best, alas,
Has neither memory nor tongue.

COVENTRY PATMORE.

EASTER-DAY.

I
GOT me flowers to strew thy way ;

I got me boughs off many a tree:
But Thou wast up by break of day,

And brought'st thy sweets along with Thee.

The sun arising in the East,

Though he give light and th' East perfume; If they should offer to contest

With thy arising, they presume. Can there be any day but this,

Though many suns to shine endeavour? We count three hundred, but we miss : There is but one, and that one ever.

GEORGE HERBERT.

AFTER ATTENDING A PRESBYTERIAN

SERVICE.

O GOD! I thank Thee for a homely taste

And appetite of soul, that wheresoe'er I find thy Gospel-preached Word or PrayerBefore me set, by whomsoever placed, I love the food, and let no morsel waste : Who serves me, who feeds with me, I less care ; All who speak truth to me commissioned are ; All who love God are in my Church embraced. Not that I have no sense of preferenceNone deeper !—but I rather love to draw, Even here, on earth, on toward the future law, And Heaven's fine etiquette, where Who? and

Whence? May not be asked; and, at the Wedding Feast, North shall sit down with South, and West with East.

THOMAS BURBIDGE.

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