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LIFE STRUGGLES.

I.

WE

E asked not to be born ; 'tis not by will

That we are here beneath the battle-smoke Without escape, by good as well as ill, By fact and mystery, opposed; no cloak Of an Elijah, no stairs whereupon Angels ascending and descending shine Over the head here pillowed on a stone, Anywhere found. Nor ought we to repine For each year hath its harvest, every day Some clang of cymbals, laughter, or sweet moan ; Yea, thought itself is triumph, nor would I pray For rest, or shrink, if I could but command Courage of heart, courage of heart and hand.

II.

Courage of heart and hand, Faith first of all :
Such is the prayer of the perplexed man,
Mistrusting the still Voice, and its true call
To work ; opposed it may be by the ban
Of social ills ;-prayer answered by desires
Within the soul for more than sense receives,
And by sky-pointing fingers of fair spires,
From whose kind creeds the refuged mortal weaves
Protecting garments for this pilgrim-strife,
Passing from world to world. But let us here

With full breast bare to all the winds of life,
And ready hand and answering eye and ear,
Gain faith and courage through self-harmony,
Cheerful in strong repose,-fearless to live or die.

WILLIAM BELL SCOTT.

SOWING IN FAITH.

NATURE'S least worthy growths have quickest

spring,
And soonest answering service readiest meed,
And undiscerning glory's shining wing
Lights earliest on an ill-deserving head.
Winter o'er autumn-scattered wheat doth fling
A white oblivion that keeps warm the seed ;
And wisest thought needs deepest burying,
Before its ripe effect begins to breed.
Therefore, O spiritual seedsman, cast
With unregretful hand thy rich grain forth,
Nor think thy word's regenerating birth
Dead, that so long lies locked in human breast.
Time, slow to foster things of lesser worth,
Broods o'er thy work, and God permits no waste.

WILLIAM CALDWELL Roscoe.

THY WAY IS IN THE DEEP.
THY way is in the deep, O Lord !

E’en there we'll go with Thee :
We'll meet the tempest at thy word,

And walk upon the sea !

cry

Poor tremblers at his rougher wind,

Why do we doubt him so ?-
Who gives the storm a path, will find

The way our feet shall go.
A moment may his hand be lost,-

Drear moment of delay !
We

• Lord! help the tempest-tost-?
And safe we're borne away.
The Lord yields nothing to our fears,

And flies from selfish care ;
But comes himself, where'er He hears

The voice of loving prayer.
O happy soul of faith divine !

Thy victory how sure !
The love that kindles joy is thine, -

The patience to endure.
Come, Lord of peace ! our griefs dispel ;

And wipe our tears away :
'Tis thine, to order all things well,
And ours, to bless the sway.

ANONYMOUS.

MY TIMES ARE IN THY HAND.

FATHER, I know that all my life

Is portioned out for me,
And the changes that are sure to come

I do not fear to see ;

But I ask Thee for a present mind

Intent on pleasing Thee.

I ask Thee for a thoughtful love,

Through constant watching wise, To meet the glad with joyful smiles,

And to wipe the weeping eyes ; And a heart at leisure from itself,

To soothe and sympathize.

I would not have the restless will

That hurries to and fro,
Seeking for some great thing to do,

Or secret thing to know;
I would be treated as a child,

And guided where I go.

Wherever in the world I am,

In whatsoe'er estate,
I have a fellowship with hearts

To keep and cultivate;
And a work of lowly love to do

For the Lord on whom I wait.

So I ask Thee for the daily strength

To none that ask denied, And a mind to blend with outward life

While keeping at thy side; Content to fill a little space,

If Thou be glorified.

And if some things I do not ask

In my cup of blessing be,
I would have my spirit filled the more

With grateful love to Thee-
More careful, not to serve Thee much,

But to please Thee perfectly.

There are briars besetting every path

That call for patient care ;
There is a cross in

every

lot,
And an earnest need for prayer ;
But a lowly heart that leans on Thee

Is happy anywhere.

In a service which thy will appoints,

There are no bonds for me ;
For my inmost heart is taught 'the truth'

That makes thy children 'free ;'
And a life of self-renouncing love
Is a life of liberty.

ANNA LÆTITIA WARING.

THE PILLAR OF THE CLOUD.

LEAD, Kindly Light, amid the encircling gloom,

Lead Thou me on !
The night is dark, and I am far from home-

Lead Thou me on !
Keep Thou my feet; I do not ask to see
The distant scene,—one step enough for me.

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