After so many deaths I live and write; That I am he, On whom thy tempests fell all night. These are thy wonders, Lord of love! Swelling through store, Forfeit their Paradise by their pride. GEORGE HERBERT. I I WOULD I WERE A CHILD. WOULD I were a child That I might look, and laugh, and say, And follow Thee with running feet, or rather Be led through dark and wild. How I would hold thy hand, My glad eyes often to thy glory lifting! Should darkness 'twixt thy face and mine come drifting, How hearken thy command! If an ill thing came near, I would but creep within thy mantle's folding, Shut my eyes close, thy hand yet faster holding, And thus forget my fear. O soul, O soul, rejoice! Thou art God's child indeed, for all thy sinning; A poor weak child, yet his, and worth the winning With saviour eyes and voice. Who spoke the words? Didst Thou? They are too good, even for such a giver : Such water drinking once, I must feel ever As I had drunk but now. Yet sure He taught us so, Teaching our lips to say with his, Our Father! Ah! Thou dost lead me, God; But it is dark; no stars! the way is dreary; Almost! Nay, I do sleep; There is no darkness save in this my dreaming; Thy fatherhood above, around, is beaming; Thy hand my hand doth keep.. Cast on my face one gleam; I have no knowledge but that I am sleeping; Lost n its lies, my life goes out in weeping; How long shall heavy night Deny the day? How long shall this dull sorrow Will bring the vanished light? Lord, art Thou in the room? Come near my bed; oh, draw aside the curtain ; But if this dreary sleep May not be broken, help thy helpless sleeper Father! I dare at length; My childhood sure will shield me from all blaming; Sinful, yet hoping, I to Thee come, claiming Thy tenderness, my strength. GEORGE MACDONALD. A CHILD'S THOUGHT OF GOD. THEY say that God lives very high; And if you dig down in the mines You never see Him in the gold; Though from Him all that's glory shines. God is so good, He wears a fold Of heaven and earth across his faceLike secrets kept, for love, untold. But still I feel that his embrace Slides down by thrills, through all things made, Through sight and sound of every place. As if my tender mother laid On my shut lips her kisses' pressure, Half-waking me at night, and said, 'Who kissed you through the dark, dear guesser ?' ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING. EVIDENCES OF RELIGION. 'E who would build the Churches of the Lord! YE See that ye make the western portals low: High Truths profanely gazed at, unadored, O stainless peace of blest Humility! Catch the true meaning of that kind, sad eye; While thou, God's portress, stationed by the door, Dost stretch thy cross so near the marble floor, That children only, without bending, pass. AUBREY DE VERE. FAITH AND SIGHT IN THE LATTER DAYS. 'I præ sequar.' THOU say'st, 'Take up thy cross, O Man, and follow Me :' The night is black, the feet are slack, But O, dear Lord, we cry, That we thy face could see ! Thy blessed face one moment's space— Then might we follow Thee! Dim tracts of time divide Those golden days from me; Thy voice comes strange o'er years of change; How can I follow Thee? Comes faint and far thy voice Thy vision fades in ancient shades; How should we follow Thee? |