NEDL TRANSFER

KC
171.75
HN 65DW A
SUNSHINE
IN THE
HE Soul
EDITED BY THE EDITOR OF
“Quiet HOURS





WISDOM SERIES.
Selections from the Thoughts of Marcus
Aurelius Antoninus.
Selections from the " Imitation of Christ,"
by Thomas à Kempis.
Sunshine in the Soul. Poems selected
by the editor of “ Quiet Hours.”
Selections from Epictetus.
The Life and Sermons of the Reverend
Doctor John Tauler.
The Wisdom of Solomon and other Selec-
tions from the Apocrypha.
The Wisdom of Jesus, the Son of Sirach ;
or, Ecclesiasticus.
Other volumes in preparation ; the series
edited by the editor of “Quiet Hours."
18mo, cloth, red edges. Price, 50 cents each.
ROBERTS BROTHERS, Publishers,
Boston.


SUNSHINE
IN THE SOUL
Poems selected by the Editor of
“Quiet Hours."
“I LOOK to Thee in every need,
And never look in vain ;
I feel Thy touch, Eternal Love,
And all is well again.
The thought of Thee is mightier far
Than sin and pain and sorrow are."
-oooo
leston, Marea
BOSTON:
Roberts Brothers.
1881.


KLE
HARVARD
UNIVERSITY
LIBRARY
APR 5 1956
2
Copyright, 1876,
- By ROBERTS BROTHERS.
UNIVERSITY PRESS: JOHN WILSON & SON,
CAMBRIDGE.


Preface.
'THESE poems have been brought together
from many sources, old and new, with the
hope that their notes of encouragement and
cheerfulness may help to carry strength and
courage into daily life. I have repeated here
two poems which were printed in “Quiet
Hours,” because I could not spare them.
They are, “ Thou Grace Divine encircling
all,” and “I look to Thee in every need."
I have taken the liberty of substituting the
word “chafing” for “craven” in the first
line of “Alone with God,” and “mother”
for “bosom ” in the first verse of “How
beautiful our lives may be."
I must express my thanks to Messrs. J. R.
Osgood & Co., Scribner & Co., and Roberts


Preface.
.
Brothers for their permission to use copy"-
righted poems. And I make grateful ac-
knowledgments to the authors who have so
kindly allowed me to use their poems.
M. W. T.
DECEMBER, 1876.


Inder of First Lines.
An asterisk shows that omissions have been made in the
poem indicated.
PAGE
· · ·.
*Abide with me, fast falls the eventide ... 124
A branch of yellow autumn leaves . . . . . 47
*Ah! dearest Lord, to feel that Thou art near . 105
* A dreary desert dost thou trace. ......
*Alone with God! day's chafing cares . . . ;
*As God leads me, will I go . . . . . . .
Awake ! O beautiful Hesperus ...... 36
*Be Thou my Sun, my selfishness destroy ..
*Calm Soul of all things ! make it mine ...
*Come, children, let us go .......
*Commit thy way to God ........
* Dear night! this world's defeat. . . . . . 29
*Father, replenish with Thy grace .....
Forenoon, and afternoon, and night, - Forenoon 22
Free of the world, by right divine ..... 64
*From heart to heart, from creed to creed .. 75
*God liveth ever ..........
God ploughed one day with an earthquake . .
· · ·
·


Index of First Lines.
PAGE
God sends sometimes a stillness in our life . . 52
God speaks to hearts of men in many ways. . 122
God's smile is on the waters . . . . . . . 46
*Happy me, O happy sheep ........ 101
He hides within the lily . . . . . . . . . 45
Ilow beautiful it is to be alive ......
How beautiful our lives may be ; how bright .
How few, who from their youthful day ...
*I ask not, take away this weight of care... 18
I cannot think but God must know. ...
*I have a little trembling light, which still.. 32
*I have seen a curious child . . . . . . ..
I hear through all the solemn pines . ....
I look to Thee in every need . . . . . . .
It is not happiness I seek ........ 17
I wake this morn and all my life . . . . . .
*I will not doubt the love untold .....
Judge not; the workings of his brain . ...
*Lame from our birth, and daily we are brought
Late on me, weeping, did this whisper fall ...
Let nothing make thee sad or fretful ....
Life! I know not what thou art . ......
* Like a cradle rocking, rocking . . . . . . 35
* Look up, look up, my soul, still higher ... 79
Lord, what a change within us one short hour 109
Lovely, shadowy, soft and still .......
Midwinter comes to-morrow . . . . . . .
*Mother, fold me to your knees . . . . .
20
22


Index of First Lines.
PAGB
My days are as the grass . . . . . . . . 78
My God, I thank Thee, who hast made ..118
My little maiden of four years old . . . . . 58
.None loves me, Father, with Thy love ...
Not so in haste, my heart ........ 77
Now, on land and sea descending . . . . .
*O foolish heart, be still . . .. . . .
*O God! Thy power is wonderful. .... 71
*O God! whose thoughts are brightest light.
*Oh! Source divine, and Life of all . .. .
*Oh, this is blessing, this is rest . . . . . .
O leave thyself to God ! and if indeed. ... 83
O Lord ! how happy should we be ....
*O Love ! how cheering is thy ray ...
*O Mother-Heart, to Thee I turn ...
One Lord there is, all lords above. ...
On the earth a flower grew. .. ...
O Thou in all Thy might so far ...... 34
*Quiet from God ! how beautiful to keep ..
"Renew Thine image, Lord, in me .....
Serene, I fold my hands and wait ....
Since thy Father's arm sustains thee ....
Source of my life's refreshing springs ....
**Spirit sent from God above ....... 100
Sweet morn from countless cups of gold ... 106
*Teach me my God and King . . . . . . . 55
The day with light its genial self engirds . . . 95
The dying year grows strangely mild .. .. 113


Sunshine in the Soul.
WITHIN.
W ITHIN! within, o turn
V Thy spirit's eyes, and learn
Thy wandering senses gently to control;
Thy dearest Friend dwells deep within thy soul,
And asks thyself of thee,
That heart, and mind, and sense He may make
whole
In perfect harmony.
Doth not thy inmost spirit yield
And sink where Love stands thus revealed ?
Be still and veil thy face,
The Lord is here, this is His holy place!
Then back to earth, and ’mid its toil and throng
One glance within will keep thee calm and
strong;
And when the toil is o’er, how sweet, () God, to
flee
Within, to Thee!
GERHARD Tersteegen, 1697-1769.


Sunshine in the Soul.
FAITH, LOVE, AND PATIENCE.
N ONE loves me, Father, with Thy love,
! None else can meet such needs as mine;
O, grant me, as Thou shalt approve,
All that befits a child of Thine !
From every doubt and fear release,
And give me confidence and peace.
Give me a faith shall never fail,
One that shall always work by love;
And then, whatever foes assail,
They shall but higher courage move
More boldly for the truth to strive,
And more by faith in Thee to live :
A heart, that, when my days are glad,
May never from Thy way decline,
And when the sky of life grows sad,
May still submit its will to Thine, -
A heart that loves to trust in Thee,
A patient heart, create in me!
FROM THE GERMAN.


The Love of God.
· Give me, my Lord, whate'er
Will bind my heart to Thee ;
For that I make my prayer,
And know Thou hearest me !
But all that might keep back my soul,
Make Thee forgot, —
Though of earth-good it were the whole,
Oh give it not !
When sickness-pains distress,
And want doth follow fear,
And men their hate express,
My sky shall still be clear.
Then wait I, Lord, and wait for Thee ;
And I am still, —
Though mine should unaccomplished be,
Do Thou Thy will !
Christian FURCHTEGOTT Gellert, 1715-1769
THE LOVE OF GOD.
THOU Grace Divine, encircling all,
1 A soundless, shoreless sea
Wherein at last our souls must fall! -
O Love of God most free!
When over dizzy heights we go,
One soft hand blinds our eyes,


16
Sunshine in the Soul.
The other leads us, safe and slow, -
O Love of God most wise!
And though we turn us from Thy face,
And wander wide and long,
Thou hold'st us still in Thine embrace, -
O Love of God most strong !
The saddened heart, the restless soul,
The toil-worn frame and mind,
Alike confess Thy sweet control, -
O Love of God most kind !
But not alone Thy care we claim,
Our wayward steps to win:
We know Thee by a dearer name, -
O Love of God within !
And filled and quickened by Thy breath,
Our souls are strong and free
To rise o'er sin and fear and death,
O Love of God, to Thee!
Eliza SCUDDER


Blessedness.
17
BLESSEDNESS.
IT is not happiness I seek,
Its name I hardly dare to speak;
It is not made for man or earth,
And Heaven alone can give it birth.
There is a something sweet and pure,
Through life, through death it may endure ;
With steady foot I onward press,
And long to win that Blessedness.
It hath no shadow, this soft light,
But makes each daily duty bright;
It bids each heart-born tumult cease,
And sobers joy to quiet peace.
An all-abiding sense of Love,
In silence falling from above,
A conscience clear from wilful sin,
That hath no subterfuge within ;
Fixed duty claiming every power,
And human love to charm each hour, -
These, these, my soul, make Blessedness :
I ask no more, I seek no less. .


18
Sunshine in the Soul.
And yet I know these are too much;
My very being's life they touch :
Without them all, oh ! let me still
Find Blessedness in God's dear will.
Louisa J. Hali
ALL FOR GOOD.
I ASK not, take away this weight of care ;
1 No, for that love I pray that all can bear;
And for the faith that whatsoe'er befall
Must needs be good, and for my profit prove,
Since from my Father's heart most rich in love,
And from His bounteous hands it cometh all.
I ask not that my course be calm and still ;
No, here too, Lord, be done Thy holy will :
I ask but for a quiet childlike heart ;
Though thronging cares and restless toil be mine,
Yet may my heart remain for ever Thine,
Draw it from earth, and fix it where Thou art.
Carl Johann Philip Spitta.


Peace.
PEACE.
THOU art with me, O my Father,
At early dawn of day;
It is Thy glory brighteneth
The upward streaming ray :
It calls me by its loveliness
To rise and worship Thee;
I feel Thy glorious presence,
Thy face I may not see.
Thou art with me, O my Father,
In the changing scenes of life,
In loneliness of spirit, , .
And in weariness of strife ;
My sufferings, my comfortings,
Alternate at Thy will ; .
I trust Thee, O my Father,
I trust Thee, and am still.
Thou art with me, O my Father,
In evening's darkening gloom ;
When night enshrouds the sleepi ig earth,.
Thy presence fills my room :
The little stars bring messages
Of kindness from above;
I love Thee, O my Father,
And I feel that Thou art love.
EUPHEMIA SAXBY,


Following.
21
As God leads me, I am still
Within His hand :
Though His purpose my self-will
Doth oft withstand.
Yet I wish that none
But His will be done,
Till the end be won
That He hath planned.
As God leads, I am content;
He will take care !
All things by His will are sent
That I must bear.
To Him I take my fear,
My wishes while I'm here, —
The way will all seem clear,
When I am there !
As God leads me, it is mine
To follow Him;
Soon all shall wonderfully shine,
Which now seems dim.
Fulfilled be His decree!
What He shall choose for me,
That shall my portion be,
Up to the brim !
L. Gedicke.


A Morning Song.
23
And when things are sad or wrong,
Then I know that love is strong;
When I ache, or when I weep,
Then I know that love is deep.
Love is old and love is new,
You love me and I love you;
And the Lord, who made it thus,
Did it in His love for us.
William BRIGHTY RANDS.
A MORNING SONG.
I WAKE this morn, and all my life
1 Is freshly mine to live ;
The future with sweet promise rife,
And crowns of joy to give.
New words to speak, new thoughts to lear,
New love to give and take ;
Perchance new burdens I may bear
For love's own sweetest sake.
New hopes to open in the sun,
New efforts worth the will,
Or tasks with yesterday begun
More bravely to fulfil.


24
.
Sunshine Sunshine !
in the Soul.
Fresh seeds for all the time to be
Are in my hand to sow,
Whereby, for others and for me,
lindreamed-of fruit may grow.
In each white daisy 'mid the grass
That turns my foot aside,
In each uncurling fern I pass,
Some sweetest joy may hide.
And if when eventide shall fall
In shade across my way,
It seems that nought my thoughts recall
But life of every day, -
Yet if each step in shine or shower
Be where Thy footstep trod,
Then blessed be every happy hour
That leads me nearer God.
CHAMBERS' JOURNAL


Alone with God.
25
AT EVENING.
I OVELY, shadowy, soft, and still
L Is the eventide ;
Ah ! if but my heart and will
Evermore might so abide !
Lord, Thy presence can alone
Make this lovely calm my own.
GERHARD TERSTEEGEN, 1697-1769.
ALONE WITH GOD.
A LONE with God! day's chafing cares
Have crowded onward unawares ;
The soul is left to breathe her prayers.
Alone with God! no human eye
Is here, with eager look to pry
Into the meaning of each sigh.
Alone with God! He only knows
If sorrow's ocean overflows
The silent spring from whence it rose.
Alone with God! He mercy lends, –
Life's fainting hope, life's meagre ends,
Life's dwarfing pain, He comprehends.


26
Sunshine in the Soul.
:
Alone with God! He feeleth well
The soul's pent life that will o’erswell, —
The life-long want no words may tell.
Alone with God! still nearer bend,
O tender Father! condescend
In this my need to be my friend.
Alone with God! with suppliant mien
Upon Thy pitying breast I lean,
Nor less because Thou art unseen.
Alone with God! safe in Thine arms,
Oh shield me from life's wild alarms,
Oh save me from life's fearful harms.
Alone with God! my Father, bless
With Thy celestial promises
The soul that needs thy tenderness.
Alone with God! Oh sweet to me
This covert to whose shade I flee,
To breathe repose in Thee - in Thee !
HYMNS OF THE AGES.


He Knoweth.
27
HE KNOWETH.
THE twilight falls, the night is near ;
I fold my work away,
And kneel to One who bends to hear
The story of the day.
The old, old story; yet I kneel
To tell it at Thy call;
And cares grow lighter as I feel
My Father knows them all.
Yes, all! The morning and the night,
The joy, the grief, the loss,
The roughened path, the sunbeam bright,
The hourly thorn and cross.
Thou knowest all : I lean my head,
My weary eyelids close;
Content and glad awhile to tread
This path, since my God knows !
And He has loved me! All my heart
With answering love is stirred;
And every anguished pain and smart
Finds healing in the word.


Sunshine in the Soul.
So here I lay me down to rest,
As nightly shadows fall,
And lean, confiding, on His breast,
Who knows and pities all !
ANONYMOUS
VESPER HYMN.
NOW on land and sea descending
Brings the night its peace profound;
Let our vesper hymn be blending
With the holy calm around.
Soon as dies the sunset glory,
Stars of heaven shine out above,
Telling still the ancient story,
Their Creator's changeless love.
Now our wants and burdens leaving
To His care, who cares for all,
Ceasę we fearing, cease we grieving ;
At His touch our burdens fall.
As the darkness deepens o’er us,
Lo, eternal stars arise ;
Hope and Faith and Love rise glorious,
Shining in the spirit's skies.
SAMUEL LONGFELLO.


The Night.
29
THE NIGHT.
EAR night! this world's defeat;
The stop to busy fools; care's check and
curb;
The day of spirits; my soul's calm retreat
Which none disturb !
Christ's progress and his prayer-time;
The hours to which high heaven doth chime.
Were all my loud, evil days
Calm and unhaunted as is thy dark tent,
Whose peace but by some angel's wing or voice
Is seldom rent;
Then I in heaven all the long year
Would keep, and never wander here.
There is in God, some say,
A deep but dazzling darkness; as men here
Say it is late and dusky, because they
See not all clear.
Oh for that night! where I in Him
Might live invisible and dim!
HENRY VAUGHAN, 1621-1695.


30
Sunshine in the Soul.
HYMN.
I CANNOT think but God must know
About the thing I long for so;
I know He is so good, so kind,
I cannot think but He will find
Some way to help, some way to show
Me to the thing I long for so.
I stretch my hand - it lies so near :
It looks so sweet, it looks so dear.
“Dear Lord,” I pray, “Oh let me know
If it is wrong to want it so ?”
He only smiles, — He does not speak:
My heart grows weaker and more weak,
With looking at the thing so dear,
Which lies so far, and yet so near.
Now, Lord, I leave at Thy loved feet
This thing which looks so near, so sweet;
I will not seek, I will not long, -
I almost fear I have been wrong.
I'll go, and work the harder, Lord,
And wait till by some loud, clear word
Thou callest me to Thy loved feet,
To take this thing so dear, so sweet.
Saxe HOLM.


Our Father Knoweth.
31
OUR FATHER KNOWETH.
Your Father knoweth that ye have need of these things.”
THEREFORE, our Heavenly Father,
We will not fear to pray
For the little needs and longings
That fill our every day;
And when we dare not whisper
A want that lieth dim,
We say, “Our Father knoweth,”
And leave it all to Him.
For His great love has compassed
Our nature, and our need
We know not; but He knoweth,
And He will bless indeed.
Therefore, O Heavenly Father,
Give what is best to me;
And take the wants unanswered,
As offerings made to Thee.
ANONYMOUS.


34
Sunshine in the Soul.
THE MYSTERY OF GOD.
THOU, in all Thy might so far,
In all Thy love so near, —
Beyond the range of sun and star,
And yet beside us here : -
What heart can comprehend Thy name,
Or, searching, find Thee out?
Who art within, a quickening Flame,
A Presence round about!
Yet though I know Thee but in part,
I ask not, Lord, for more :
Enough for me to know Thou art,
To love Thee and adore !
Oh sweeter than all else besides,
The tender mystery
That like a veil of shadow hides
The Light I may not see !
And dearer than all things I know
Is childlike faith to me,
That makes the darkest way I go
An open path to Thee !
FREDERICK L. HOSMER,


The Love of God.
.
•
THE LOVE OF GOD.
LIKE a cradle rocking, rocking,
I Silent, peaceful, to and fro,
Like a mother's sweet looks dropping
On the little face below,
Hangs the green earth, swinging, turning,
Jarless, noiseless, safe, and slow;
Falls the light of God's face bending
Down and watching us below.
And as feeble babes that suffer,
Toss, and cry, and will not rest,
Are the ones the tender mother
Holds the closest, loves the best, —
So when we are weak and wretched,
By our sins weighed down, distressed,
Then it is that God's great patience
Holds us closest, loves us best.
SAXE HOLM.


36
Sunshine in the Soul.
HESPERUS.
A WAKE, O beautiful Hesperus!
Awake! for the day is done,
And the royal purple curtains are drawn
Round the couch of the sleeping sun;
There is a hush on the blooming earth
And a hush on the beating sea,
And silence, too, in the courts of Heaven;
For the stars all wait for thee,
Hesperus!
All things beautiful wait for thee !
'Tis the hour for fancy's fairy reign,
When the glowing brain is fraught
With visions of beauty, and bliss, and love,
That leave no room for thought.
With the light of warm and glorious dreams
This narrow chamber is bright,
And I need but thee to sing with me,
O sweetest poet of night!
Hesperus !
Open thy volume of golden light !
There may I read of the youth of old,
Who clambered the mountain height,
And talked with stars in the midnight hours
Till he faded from human sight, —


Hesperus.
37
Till his brow grew bright with wonderful light,
And away from the world's rude jars,
He was lost in the beams of his radiant dreams,
And himself was the fairest of stars.
Hesperus !
The best beloved of all the stars !
There may I read this legend rare,
And its beautiful meaning learn,
While my soul, new-kindled to hopes divine,
With a holy fire shall burn.
Oh never should human heart despair
Of the presence of God on high,
Oh never should human faith grow dim
While the stars are in the sky !
Hesperus!
Thy voice is the voice of eternity!
Thou art smiling down on me, Hesperus !
With that smile upon my heart
I know that kindred to me and mine,
In those measureless heights, thou art.
When thy spirit blossomed into a star,
In the mystical days of old,
Che love and the hope it bore on high
The legend hath never told.
Hesperus !
Thy sweetest story hath never been told.


Sunshine in the Soul.
Oh to be like thee, Hesperus !
To climb the heights of truth,
And there to drink of celestial airs,
And to glow with immortal youth ; —
There wrapt in the light which is born in skies
Where the blessed angels are,
To hear earth's harmonies only rise
Floating sweetly up from afar !
Hesperus!
How can my spirit become a star?
Frances L. MacE, 1855.
THE CHAMBERED NAUTILUS.
HIS is the ship of pearl, which, poets feign,
Sails the unshadowed main, -
The venturous bark that flings
On the sweet summer wind its purpled wings
In gulfs enchanted, where the Siren sings,
And coral reefs lie bare,
Where the cold sea-maids rise to sun their stream-
ing hair.
Its webs of living gauze no more unfurl ;
Wrecked is the ship of pearl !
And every chambered cell,
Where its dim dreaming life was wont to dwell,
As the frail tenant shaped his growing shell,


The Chambered Nautilus.
39
Before thee lies revealed,
Its irised ceiling rent, its sunless crypt unsealed !
Year after year beheld the silent toil
That spread his lustrous coil ;
Still, as the spiral grew,
He left the past year's dwelling for the new,
Stole with soft step its shining archway through,
Built up its idle door,
Stretched in his last-found home, and knew the
old no more.
Thanks for the heavenly message brought by thee,
Child of the wandering sea,
Cast from her lap, forlorn !
From thy dead lips a clearer note is born
Than ever Triton blew from wreathéd horn!
While on mine ear it rings,
Through the deep caves of thought I hear a voice
that sings : —
Build thee more stately mansions, O my soul,
As the swift seasons roll!
Leave thy low-vaulted past !
Let each new temple, nobler than the last,
Shut thee from heaven with a dome more vast,
Till thou at length art free,
Leaving thine outgrown shell by life's unresting
sea !
OLIVEN WENDELI HOLMES


Sunshine in the Soul.
THE GATE CALLED BEAUTIFUL.
“And they brought a man lame from his birth, and laid him
daily at the gate of the temple, which is called Beautiful.”
TAME from our birth- and daily we are brought
And at the gate called Beautiful are laid
Sometimes its wonder makes us free and glad ;
Sometimes its grandeur makes us half afraid.
The gate called Beautiful; and yet methinks
No word can name it that begins to tell
How soar its pillars to the highest heavens,
And how their roots take hold on lowest hell.
With what designs its panels are inwrought,
O’er-traced with flowers and hills and shining
seas,
And glorified by rise and set of suns,
And Junes of blossom and October trees !
So beautiful, yet never quite the same !
The pictures change with every changing hour;
Or sweeter things come stealing into view,
Which stronger things had hidden by their
power.


The Gate called Beautiful.
There all the stars and systems go their way;
There shines the moon so tender in her grace;
And there, than moon or star or sun more fair,
The blessed wonder of the human face.
Faces and faces ! some of children sweet;.
And some of maidens fresh and pure and true ;
And some that lovelier are at evening time
Than any can be while the years are few.
This is the gate called Beautiful; it swings
To music sweeter than was heard that day
When St. Cecilia, rapt in ecstasy,
Heard through her trance the angelic roundelay,
Music of little children at their play ;
Of mothers hushing them to sleep and dreams;
Of all the birds that sing in all the trees ;
Of all the murmuring of all the streams.
And at this gate, not at wide intervals,
Are we, lame from our birth, laid tenderly,
But daily; and not one day passes by
That we look not upon this mystery.
Gate of the Temple ? surely it is that!.
It opens not into vacuity ;
For all its beauty, it is not so fair
But that a greater beauty there can be ·


42
Sunshine in the Soul.
Thy beauty, O my Father! All is Thine ;
But there is beauty in Thyself, from whence
The beauty Thou hast made doth ever flow
In streams of never-failing affluence.
Thou art the Temple ! and though I am lame, —
· Lame from my birth, and shall be till I die, -
I enter through the Gate called Beautiful,
And am alone with Thee, O Thou Most High !
J. W. CHADWICK.
CALM ME.
CALM Soul of all things ! make it mine
To feel, amid the city's jar,
That there abides a peace of thine
Man did not make, and cannot mar!
The will to neither strive nor cry,
The power to ſeel with others give !
Calm, calm me more ! nor let me die
Before I have begun to live.
MATTHEW ARNOLD.


“ Consider the Lilies.”
45
"CONSIDER THE LILIES, HOW THEY
GROW."
L E hides within the lily
11 A strong and tender care,
That wins the earth-born atoms
To glory of the air;
He weaves the shining garments
Unceasingly and still,
Along the quiet waters,
In niches of the hill.
We linger at the vigil
With him who bent the knee
To watch the old-time lilies
In distant Galilee;
And still the worship deepens
And quickens into new,
As brightening down the ages
God's secret thrilleth through.
O Toiler of the lily,
Thy touch is in the man !
No leaf that dawns to petal
But hints the angel-plan.
The flower-horizons open !
The blossom vaster shows !


The Law of Life.
THE LAW OF LIFE.
BRANCH of yellow autumn leaves,
So steeped in sunshine through and through
They seemed like stuff that Nature weaves
When all her homespun work she spurns,
And from her loom, that glows and burns
With all the splendors it achieves,
Roth show what she loves best to do.
I held it 'twixt me and the sun
The lovely, shining beechen spray;
The breeze blew fresh, and one by one
Came fluttering down the leaflets fair,
Till all the twigs were brown and bare.
“ Ah! thus," I said, “my life doth run,
And thus my hopes are thrown away.”
A foolish thought. In vision clear
God's answer came to comfort me.
“ The golden hopes would soon be sere;
They dropped away to leave a place
For nobler life and richer grace ;
Behold where swelling buds appear,
To crown anew the leafless tree !”
ELIZABETH W. DENISON


The Revival.
49
THE REVIVAL.
I NFOLD! unfold! take in His light,
Who makes thy cares more short than night.
The joys which with His day-star rise
He deals to all but drowsy eyes ;
And (what the men of this world miss)
Some drops and dews of future bliss.
Hark! how the winds have changed their note,
And with warm whispers call thee out !
The frosts are past, the storms are gone,
And backward life at last comes on.
The lofty groves, in express joys,
Reply unto the turtle's voice ;
And here, in dust and dirt, oh, here,
The lilies of his love appear.
HENRY VAUGHAN, 1621-1695


50
Sunshine in the Soul.
A PARABLE FOR HAPPY HEARTS.
O n the earth a Flower grew,
From the Sun its being drew;
Day by day this royal friend
Sent down blessings without end ;
Day by day the Flower held up
To be filled with light its cup ;
And the great Sun ne'er forgot
In the universe this dot.
And the Sun said to the ground:
“ Take my light and bear it round,
Till my Flower's searching root
Find my blessing underfoot ;"
And he said unto the air:
“ Wrap my Flower in tender care,
Whisper to its very heart
That my loving breath thou art.”
So the Flower, with gifts bowed down,
Humbled toward the earth its crown;
“Tell me, Sun, for so much treasure
Showered upon me without measure
Can I nothing give thee back?
Or, iſ thou dost nothing lack,


A Parable for Happy Hearts.
51
Can I pass these gifts divine
Unto lives less blest than mine?”
But the Sun said, “Nay, not so
Shall thy heart thanksgiving show;
Rather make thou full employ
Of thy privilege and joy,
For the best that thou canst be
Is the service asked of thee.”
Then the Flower uprose once more,
Stronger-hearted than before, -
Through its seeming useless days
Tried to join earth's hymn of praise
With its given power of bloom,
Grace, and color, and perfume.
But what joys passed unenjoyed,
What powers only half-employed,
Gifts not to the utmost used,
Grace not in its life transfused ;
What of all its mighty debt
To the Sun the Flower owed yet,
When its happy life was done,
No one knew but Flower and Sun.
· Harriet Ware Hall


Sunshine in the Soul.
TRUE REST.
rod sends sometimes a stillness in our life,
The bivouac, the sleep,
When on the silent battle-field the strife
Is hushed in slumber deep,
When wearied hearts exhausted sink to rest,
Remembering nor the struggle nor the quest.
We know such hours, when the dim dewy night
Bids day's hot turmoil cease;
When star by star steals noiselessly in sight,
With silent smiles of peace ;
When we lay down our load, and half forget
The morrow comes, and we must bear it yet.
We know such hours, when after days of pain,
And nights when sleep was not,
God gives us ease and peace and calm again,
Till, all the past forgot,
We say, in rest and thankfulness most deep,
E'en so “ He giveth His beloved sleep."
When some strong chain that bound us by God's
strength
Is loosed or torn apart;


True Hest.
53
Or when, beloved and longed-for, come at length,
Some friend makes glad our heart;
We know the calm that follows on such bliss,
That looks no farther, satisfied with this.
God does not always loose the chain, nor give
The loved ones back to us;
Sometimes ’mid strife and tumult we must live,
Learning His silence thus :
There is a rest for those who bear His will,
A peacefulness than freedom sweeter still.
He giveth rest more perfect, pure, and true,
While we His burthen bear;
It springeth not from parted pain, but through
The accepted blessing there;
The lesson pondered o'er with thoughtful eyes,
The faith that sees in all a meaning wise.
Deep in the heart of pain God's hand hath set
A hidden rest and bliss ;
Take as His gift the pain, the gift brings yet
A truer happiness :
God's voice speaks, through it all, the high behest
'That bids His people enter into rest. .
LUCY FLETCHER.


Sunshine in the Soul.
QUIET FROM GOD.
"When He giveth quietness, who then can make trouble ?"
UIET from God ! how beautiful to keep
# This treasure, the All-merciful hath given ;
To feel, when we awake, and when we sleep,
Its incense round us, like a breath from heaven!
To sojourn in the world, and yet apart;
To dwell with God, yet still with man to feel;
To bear about for ever in the heart
The gladness which His Spirit doth reveal !
Who shall make trouble ? Not the evil minds
Which like a shadow o'er creation lower ;
The soul which peace hath thus attunèd finds
How strong within doth reign the Calmer's power.
What shall make trouble ? Not the holy thought
Of the departed ; that will be a part
Of those undying things His peace hath wrought
Into a world of beauty in the heart.
What shall make trouble ? Not slow-wasting pain,
Not the impending, certain stroke of death ;
These do but wear away, tínen snap, the chain
Which bound the spirit down to things beneath.
SARAH J. Williams.
.


The Elirir.
THE ELIXIR.
TEACH me, my God and King,
In all things Thee to see,
And what I do in any thing,
To do it as for Thee.
A man that looks on glass
On it may stay his eye ; .
Or, if he pleaseth, through it pass,
And then the heaven espy.
All may of Thee partake:
Nothing can be so mean,
Which, with this tincture, for Thy sake,
Will not grow bright and clean.
A servant with this clause
Makes drudgery divine:
Who sweeps a room, as for Thy laws,
Makes that and the action fine.
This is the famous stone
That turneth all to gold;
For that which God doth touch and own
Cannot for less be told.
GEORGE HERBERT.


Judge Not.
57
A scar, brought from some well-won field,
Where thou wouldst only faint and yield.
The look, the air, that frets thy sight,
May be a token, that below
The soul has closed in deadly fight
With some infernal fiery foe,
Whose glance would scorch thy smiling grace,
And cast thee shuddering on thy face !
The fall thou darest to despise —
May be the angel's slackened hand
Has suffered it, that he may rise
And take a firmer, surer stand;
Or, trusting less to earthly things,
May henceforth learn to use his wings.
And judge none lost ; but wait, and see,
With hopeful pity, not disdain ;
The depth of the abyss may be
The measure of the height of pain
And love and glory that may raise
T'his soul to God in after days !
ADELAIDE A. Procter


58
Sunshine in the Soul.
LARVÆ.
M Y little maiden of four years old —
No myth, but a genuine child is she,
With her bronze-brown eyes, and her curls of
gold —
Came, quite in disgust, one day, to me.
Rubbing her shoulder with rosy palm,
As the loathsome touch seemed yet to thrill her,
She cried, “O mother! I found on my arm
A horrible, crawling caterpillar ! ”
And with mischievous smile she could scarcely
smother,
Yet a glance, in its daring, half awed and shy,
She added, “While they were about it, mother,
I wish they'd just finished the butterfly!”.
They were words to the thought of the soul that
turns
From the coarser form of a partial growth,
Reproaching the infinite patience that yearns
With an unknown glory to crown them both.
Ah, lovk thou largely, with lenient eyes,
On whatso beside thee may creep and cling,
For the possible beauty that underlies
The passing phase of the meanest thing !


The Sun and the Mote.
Come, children, let us go !
We travel hand in hand;
Each in his brother finds his joy
In this wild stranger land.
As children let us be,
Nor by the way fall out,
The angels guard us round about,
And help us brotherly.
The strong be quick to raise
The weaker when they fall ;
Let love and peace and patience bloom
In ready help for all.
All beauty, Lord, we see,
All bliss and life and love,
In Him in whom we live and move,
And we are glad in Thee.
GERHARD TERSTEEGEN, 1737.
THE SUN AND THE MOTE.
PE Thou my Sun, my selfishness destroy,
1) Thy atmosphere of Love be all my joy ;
Thy Presence be my Sunshine ever bright,
My soul the little mote that liv?s but in Thy light.
GERHARD TERSTEEGEN,


64
Sunshine in the Soul.
THE MERCY OF THE LORD.
THERE 's a wideness in God's mercy,
Like the wideness of the sea ;
There's a kindness in His justice
Which is more than liberty.
For the love of God is broader
Than the measures of man's mind ;
And the Heart of the Eternal
Is most wonderfully kind.
If our love were but more simple,
We should take Him at His word ;
And our lives would be all sunshine
In the sweetness of our Lord.
F. W. FABER
THE WORLD'S FREEMAN.
FREE of the world ! by right divine
1 The earth, O prisoned soul, is thine.
Rise up! come out! in sun and air
Claim and possess thy rightful share.
Within thy dark and lonesome cell
It is thy choice, not fate, to dwell


The World's Freeman.
65
Whatever thou canst hear or see
Of grand or sweet is meant for thee;
And every joy, for which thy heart
Can gladden, shall be thine in part;
And every sorrow thou canst share,
For thee its blessed fruit shall bear. .
Thou call'st “thine own” a narrow spot,
And frettest ; but hast thou forgot
That far, and far, this earth is spread,
The one sky stretching overhead ?
One earth, one sky, one common air,
One household, 'neath one Father's care.
Thou toil'st to build thy selfish walls ;
But, when the evening shadow falls,
Thy Father's voice thou 'lt gladly hear, —
“Come home, my child, for night is near ! ”
Then, looking backward o'er thy day,
Thy walls will show as children's play, --
As children's play who set apart
Their garden-beds with careful art,
What time their father claims alone
The whole wide garden for his own.
Lo! where no parted claim may be,
A mighty love makes all things free, -
Come forth! in love and life divine,
Thou child of God! the world is thine.
Harriet Ware Hall (after R'v, C. C. Evere!")


He Careth for Us.
67
Now to the love that casts out fear
Mercy and truth indeed seem one;
Why should I hold my ease so dear ?
The work of training must be done.
I must be taught what I would know,
I must be led where I would go,
And all the rest ordained for me,
Till that which is not seen I see,
Is to be found in trusting Thee.
ANNA L. WARING.
HE CARETH FOR US.
“ Casting all your care upon Him; for He careth for you."
O LORD ! how happy should we be,
If we could cast our care on Thee,
If we from self could rest;
And feel at heart that One above, .
In perfect wisdom, perfect love,
Is working for the best.
How far from this our daily life!
How oft disturbed by anxious strife,
By sudden wild alarms ;
Oh, could we but relinquish all
Our earthly props, and simply fall
On Thine almighty arms !


Sunshine in the Soul.
Could we but kneel and cast our load,
E'en while we pray, upon our God,
Then rise with lightened cheer ;
Sure that the Father, who is nigh
To still the famished ravens' cry,
Will hear, in that we fear.
We cannot trust Him as we should;
So chafes weak nature's restless mood
To cast its peace away; .
But birds and flowerets round us preach,
All, all the present evil teach
Sufficient for the day.
Lord, make these faithless hearts of ours .
Such lessons learn from birds and flowers;
Make them from self to cease;
Leave all things to a Father's will,
And taste, before Him lying still,
E’en in affliction, peace.
Røv. JOSEPH ANSTICE, 1836.
THE QUIET HOPING HEART.
THATE’ER my God ordains is right,
His will is ever just;
Howe'er He order now my cause,
I will be still and trust.


The Quiet Hoping Heart.
69
He is my God;
Though dark my road,
He holds me that I shall not fall,
Wherefore to Him I leave it all.
Whate'er my God ordains is right,
Though I the cup must drink
That bitter seems to my faint heart,
I will not fear nor shrink;
Tears pass away
With dawn of day,
Sweet comfort yet shall fill my heart,
And pain and sorrow shall depart.
Whate'er my God ordains is right,
My Light, my Life is He,
Who cannot will me aught but good,
I trust Him utterly ;
For well I know,
In joy or woe,
We soon shall see as sunlight clear
How faithful was our Guardian here.
Whate'er my God ordains is right,
Here will I take my stand ;
Though sorrow, need, or death make earth
For me a desert land,


70
Sunshine in the Soul.
My Father's care
Is around me there,
He holds me that I shall not fall,
And so to Him I leave it all.
. SAMUEL KODIGAST, 1675.
TO MYSELF.
I ET nothing make thee sad or fretful,
Or too regretful,
Be still ;
What God hath ordered must be right,
Then find in it thine own delight,
My will.
Why shouldst thou fill to-day with sorrow
About to-morrow,
My heart?
One watches all with care most true,
Doubt not that He will give thee too
Thy part.
Only be steadfast, never waver,
Nor seek earth’s favor,
But rest:
Thou knowest what God wills must be
For all His creatures, so for thee,
The best.
Paul FLEMMING, 1609-1640.


My Father.
71
MY FATHER.
GOD! Thy power is wonderful,
Thy glory passing bright;
Thy wisdom, with its deep on deep,
A rapture to the sight.
There's not a craving in the mind,
Thou dost not meet and still ;
There's not a wish the heart can have,
Which Thou dost not fulfil.
All things that have been, all that are,
All things that can be dreamed ;
All possible creations, made,
Kept faithful, or redeemed, -
All these may draw upon Thy power,
Thy mercy may command ;
And still outflows Thy silent sea,
Immutable and grand.
O little heart of mine ! shall pain
Or sorrow make thee moan,
When all this God is all for thee,
A Father all thine own?
F. W. FABER.


Sunshine in the Soul.
GOD IN THE HEART.
SOURCE of my life's refreshing springs,
w Whose presence in my heart sustains me,
Thy love appoints me pleasant things,
Thy mercy orders all that pains me.
If loving hearts were never lonely,
If all they wish might always be,
Accepting what they look for only,
They might be glad, but not in Thee.
Well may Thy own beloved, who see
In all their lot their Father's pleasure,
Bear loss of all they love, save Thee,
Their living, everlasting treasure.
Well may Thy happy children cease
From restless wishes, prone to sin;
And, in Thy own exceeding peace,
Yield to Thy daily discipline. .
We need as much the cross we bear,
As air we breathe, as light we see ;
It draws us to Thy side in prayer,
It binds us to our strength in Thee.
Anna L. WARING.


Besting in God.
73
RESTING IN GOD.
“ Rest in the Lord, and wait patiently for Him."
CINCE thy Father's arm sustains thee,
w Peaceful be ;
When a chastening hand restrains thee,
It is He.
Know His love in full completeness
Fills the measure of thy weakness;
If He wound thy spirit sore,
Trust Him more.
Without murmur, uncomplaining,
In His hand
Leave whatever things thou canst not
Understand.
Though the world thy folly spurneth,
From thy faith in pity turneth,
Peace thy inmost soul shall fill,
Lying still.
Like an infant, if thou thinkest
Thou canst stand ;
Childlike, proudly pushing back
The offered hand,


74
Sunshine in the Soul.
Courage soon is changed to fear,
Strength doth feebleness appear ;
In His love if thou abide,
He will guide.
Fearest sometimes that thy Father
Hath forgot ?
When the clouds around thee gather,
Doubt Him not.
Always hath the daylight broken, -
Always hath He comfort spoken, -
Better hath He been for years
Than thy fears.
Therefore, whatsoe'er betideth,
Night or day, —
Know His love for thee provideth
Good alway.
Crown of sorrow gladly take,
Grateful wear it for His sake,
Sweetly bending to His will,
Lying still.
To His own thy Father giveth
Daily strength;
To each troubled soul that liveth,
Peace at length.


All my Springs are in Thee.
75
Weakest lambs have largest share
Of this tender Shepherd's care ;
Ask Him not, then, “When?" or "How?"
Only bow.
CHARLES RUDOLPH HAGENBACH.
(Tr. by H. A. P.)
ALL MY SPRINGS ARE IN THEE.
PROM heart to heart, from creed to creed,
The hidden river runs,
It quickens all the ages down,
It binds the sires to sons, -
The stream of Faith whose source is God,
Whose sound the sound of prayer,
Whose meadows are the holy lives
Upspringing everywhere.
And still it moves, a broadening flood ;
And fresher, fuller grows
A sense as if the sea were near,
Towards which the river flows.
O Thou, who art the secret Source
That rises in each soul,
Thou art the Ocean too, — Thy charm,
That ever-deepening roll !
William C. Gannett.


76
Sunshine in the Soul.
WHATE’ER GOD DOES IS WELL.
W HATE’ER God does is well !
His children find it so.
Some He doth not with plenty bless,
Yet loves them not the less; ..
But draws their hearts unto Himself away.
O hearts, obey !
Whate'er God does is well,
Whether He gives or takes!
And what we from His hand receive
Suffices us to live.
He takes and gives, while yet He loves us
still.
Then love His will.
Whate'er God does is well !
And what can our will do ?
We cannot reap from what we sow
But what His power makes grow.
Sometimes He doth all other good destroy,
To be thy joy.
Whate'er God does is well!
In patience let us wait:


Waiting.
77
He doth Himself our burdens bear,
He doth for us take care.
And He our God knows all our weary days.
Come, give Him praise.
B. SCHMOI CK, 1672-1737.
WAITING.
N OT so in haste, my heart ;
Have faith in God, and wait;
Although He linger long,
He never comes too late.
He never comes too late ;
He knoweth what is best:
Vex not thyself in vain;
Until He cometh, rest.
Until He cometh, rest;
Nor grudge the hours that roll;
The feet that wait for God
Are soonest at the goal.
Are soonest at the goal,
That is not gained by speed;
Then hold thee still, my heart,
For I shall wait His lead.
B. T.


Sunshine in the Soul.
“ AS THE GRASS.”
M Y days are as the grass,
W Swiftly my seasons pass,
And like the flower of the field I fade;
O soul, dost thou not see,
The wise have likened thee
To the most living creature that is made ?
My days are as the grass;
The sliding waters pass
Under my roots, upon me drops the cloud;
And not the stately trees
Have kinder ministries, –
The heavens are too lofty to be proud.
My days are as the grass ;
The feet of trouble pass,
And leave me trampled that I cannot rise :
But wait a little while,
· And I shall lift and smile,
Before the sweet congratulating skies.
My days are as the grass;
Soon out of sight I pass,
And in the bleak earth I must hide my head;


Look Up.
79
The wind that passes o'er
Will find my place no more, —
The wind of death will tell that I am dead.
But how shall I rejoice
When I shall hear the voice
Of Him who, keeping spring with Him alway,
Lest hope from man should pass,
Hath made us as the grass, –
The grass that always has another day.
Carl SPENCER,
LOOK UP.
[ OOK up, look up, my soul, still higher;
On to the heavenly goal aspire,
On God's love ever leaning :
Burst this dull earth's control, and wing
Thy way where no clouds roll, and sing
Thy deep heart's inner meaning.
What though thy way be dark, and earth
With ceaseless care do cark, till mirth
To thee no sweet strain singeth ;
Still hide thy life above, and still
Believe that God is love ; fulfil
Whatever lot He bringeth.
ALBERT EUBULE Evans, 1868.


80
Sunshine in the Soul.
COMMIT THY WAY TO GOD.
COMMIT thy way to God,
u The weight which makes thee faint ;
Worlds are to Him no load,
To Him breathe thy complaint.
He who for winds and clouds
Maketh a pathway free,
Through wastes, or hostile crowds,
Can make a way for thee.
Thou must in Him be blest,
Ere bliss can be secure ;
On His work must thou rest,
If thy work shall endure.
To anxious, prying thought,
And weary, fretting care,
The Highest yieldeth nought;
He giveth all to prayer.
Father! Thy faithful love,
Thy mercy, wise and mild,
Sees what will blessing prove,
Or what will hurt Thy child.
And what Thy wise foreseeing,
Doth for Thy children choose,
Thou bringest into being,
Nor suff 'rest them to lose.


Leave Thyself to God.
83
God liveth ever!
Wherefore, Soul, despair thou never !
Those whom the thoughtless world forsakes,
Who stand bewildered with their woe,
God gently to His bosom takes,
And bids them all His fulness know.
In thy sorrows' swelling flood
Own His hand who seeks thy good.
Soul, forget not in thy pains
God o'er all for ever reigns.
God liveth ever!
Wherefore, Soul, despair thou never !
What though thou tread with bleeding feet
A thorny path of grief and gloom,
Thy God will choose the way most meet
To lead thee heavenwards, lead thee home.
For this life's long night of sadness
He will give thee peace and gladness.
Soul, forget not in thy pains
God o'er all for ever reigns.
Zinn, 1682.
LEAVE THYSELF TO GOD.
OH, leave thyself to God, and if indeed
'Tis given thee to perform so vast a task,
Think not at all, think not, but kneel and ask!
O friend ! by thought was never creature freed


Sunshine in the Soul.
From any sin, from any mortal need ;
Be patient! not by thought canst thou devise
What course of life for thee is right and wise ;
It will be written up, and thou wilt read.
Oft like a sudden pencil of rich light,
Piercing the thickest umbrage of the wood,
Will shoot, amidst our troubles infinite,
The spirit's voice; oft, like the balmy flood
Of morn, surprise the universal night
With glory, and make all things sweet and good.
THOMAS BURBIDGE
THE HIGHWAY.
“Whatever road I take joins the highway that leads to Thee.” –
MediÆVAL Persian Poet.
W HEN the night is still and far,
Watcher from the shadowed deeps !
When the morning breaks its bar,
Life that shines and wakes and leaps !
When old Bible-verses glow,
Starring all the deep of thought,
Till it fills with quiet dawn
From the peace our years have brought, -
Sun within both skies, we see
How all lights lead back to Thee!
'Cross the field of daily work
Run the footpaths, leading – where ?


O Mother-Heart.
85
Run they East or run they West,
One way all the workers fare :
Every awful thing of earth,
Sin and pain and battle-noise,
Every dear thing - baby's birth,
Faces, flowers, or lovers' joys -
Is a wicket-gate where we
Join the great highway to Thee !
Restless, restless, speed we on;
Whither in the vast unknown ?
Not to you and not to me
Are the sealed orders shown ;.
But the Hand that built the road,
And the Light that leads the feet,
And this inward restlessness,
Are such invitation sweet,
That where I no longer see,
Highway still must lead to Thee.
WILLIAM C. GANNETT.
MOTHER-HEART, to Thee I turn, -
V Comfort Thy child, for Thee I yearn:
Like a parched field my soul doth lie
Pining beneath a sultry sky ;
O Heavenly Dew, O gentle Rain,
Descend and bid it bloom again.
G. TERSTREGEN.


“ His Compassions Fail Not.”
87
“HIS COMPASSIONS FAIL NOT."
THE farmer chides the tardy spring,
The sun withholds his wonted ray,
The days are dull and cold and gray,
No shadow doth the maple Aling.
From snow-clad peaks and icy main,
The north wind cometh wet and chill,
And evermore the clouds distil
The hoarded treasure of the rain.
But still, O miracle of good!
The crocus springs, the violets peep,
The straggling vines begin to creep,
The dandelion gilds the sod.
The rain may fall in constant showers,
The south-wind tarry on its way ;
And through the night and through the day
Advance the summer's fragrant hours.
And though the north-wind force him back,
The song-bird hurries from the South,
With summer's music in his mouth,
And studs with songs his airy track.


Inner Sunshine.
95
Till, just as any other friend's, we press
Death's hand; and, having died, feel none the less,
How beautiful it is to be alive.
HENRY Septimus SUTTON.
INNER SUNSHINE.
THE day with light its genial self engirds ;
1 The trees are glad with fluty voices dear. –
• Thou art my God!” When I say o'er those
words,
I see a light beyond the day; and hear
Voices far richer than the songs of birds.
Mine eyes with happy tears then overswim :
The thoughts I have are sweetest that can be:
My mind 's a cup with love above the brim :
Fine incense circles around all I see ;
In every sound I hear a holy hymn.
Thou art my God! Thou, Father, Thou, my
friend.
My Saviour, Thou, the Eternal Lord of all !
O thought which doth all deepest thought tran-
scend !
Beneath whose painful stress well may I fall
In love and wonder which should know no end !
Henry SeptiMUS Sutton, 1854.


Best in God.
97
By the dear, gracious saying I have heard. —
And having said thus, fell a peace so deep,
What could I do, dear friends ? what do, but weep?
Henry Septim's Sutton, 1854.
REST IN GOD.
VEA, my spirit fain would sink
In Thy heart and hands, my God,
Waiting till Thou show the end
Of the ways she here hath trod ;
Stripped of self, how calm her rest
On her loving Father's breast!
And my soul complaineth not,
For she knows not pain or fear,
Clinging to her God in faith,
Trusting though He slay her here.
'Tis when flesh and blood repine,
Sun of joy, Thou canst not shine.
Thus my soul before her God
Lieth still, nor speaketh more,
Conqueror thus o’er pain and wrong
That once smote her to the core;
Like a silent ocean, bright
With her God's great praise and light.
WINKLER, 17250


Psalm Twenty-third.
PSALM XXIII.
HAPPY me! O happy sheep!
Whom my God vouchsafes to keep;
Even my God, even he it is
That points me to these ways of bliss ;.
On whose pastures cheerful spring,
All the year, doth sit and sing,
And, rejoicing, smiles to see
Their green backs wear his livery.
When my wayward breath is flying,
He calls home my soul from dying,
Strokes and tames my rabid grief,
And does woo me into life.
When my simple weakness strays,
Tangled in forbidden ways,
He, my Shepherd, is my guide ;
He's before me, on my side,
And behind me; he beguiles
Craft in all her knotty wiles :
He expounds the giddy wonder
Of my weary steps, and under
Spreads a path clear as the day,
Where no churlish rub says nay
To my joy-conducted feet;
Whilst they gladly go to meet
Grace and peace, to meet new lays


104
Sie
Sunshine in the Soul.
If He thought it fit to lay
Judgments on me, I could say,
They are good; but shrink away.
All the ways of righteousness
I did think were full of trouble ;
I complained of tediousness,
And each duty seemèd double.
Whilst I served Him but of fear,
Every minute did appear
Longer far than a whole year.
But the case is altered now:
He no sooner turns His eye,
But I quickly bend, and bow,
Ready at His feet to lie ;
Love hath taught me to obey
All His precepts, and to say,
Not to-morrow, but to-day.
What He wills, I say I must:
What I must, I say I will :
He commanding, it is just
What He would I should fulfil,
Whilst he biddeth, I believe
What He calls for He will give :
To obey Him, is to live.


Joy in the Lord.
105
His commandments grievous are not,
Longer than men think them so :
Though He send me forth, I care not
Whilst He gives me strength to go ;
When or whither, all is one ;
On His business, not mine own,
I shall never go alone.
If I be complete in Him,
And in Him all fulness dwelleth,
I am sure aloft to swim,
Whilst that ocean overswelleth.
Having Him that's All in All,
I am confident I shall
Nothing want, for which I call.
Francis Quarles, 1592-1664
JOY IN THE LORD.
A H, dearest Lord ! to feel that Thou art near,
4 Brings deepest peace, and hushes every fear;
To see Thy smile, to hear Thy gracious voice,
Makes soul and body inwardly rejoice
• With praise and thanks.
Oh well for him who ever day and night
Should only seek to feed on Thee aright!
In him a well of joy for ever springs,
And all day long his heart is glad and sings :
Who is like Thee ?
Christ an Gregor, 1778.


106
Sunshine in the Soul.
MORNING HYMN.
CWEET morn! from countless cups of gold
w Thou liftest reverently on high
More incense fine than earth can hold,
To fill the sky.
One interfusion wide of love,
Thine airs and odors moist ascend,
And ’mid the azure depths above,
With light they blend.
The lark, by his own carol blest,
From thy green harbors eager springs ;
And his large heart in little breast
Exulting sings.
A joy from hidden paradise
Is rippling down the shiny brooks,
With beauty like the gleams of eyes
In tenderest looks.
The fly his jocund round unweaves,
With choral strain the birds salute.
The voiceſul flocks, and nothing grieves,
And nought is mute.


The Stream and the pool.
109
PRAYER.
I ORD, what a change within us one short hour
Spent in Thy presence will avail to make !
What heavy burdens from our bosoms take,
What parchèd grounds refresh, as with a shower !
We kneel, and all around us seems to lower :
We rise, and all, the distant and the near,
Stands forth in sunny outline, brave and clear. .
We kneel how weak! we rise how full of power !
Why, therefore, should we do ourselves this wrong,
Or others, — that we are not always strong,
That we are ever overborne with care,
That we should ever weak or heartless be,
Anxious or troubled, when with us is prayer,
And joy and strength and courage are with Thee ?
RICHARD Chenevix TRENCH.
THE STREAM AND THE •POOL.
THE stream of life from fountains flows,
Concealed by sacred woods and caves;
From crag to dell unchecked it goes,
And hurrying fast from whence it rose,
In foam and flash exulting raves.


The Happy Hour.
111
THE HAPPY HOUR.
THE life of man has wondrous hours,
Revealed at once to heart and eye,
When wake all being's kindled powers,
And joy like dew on trees and flowers
With freshness fills the earth and sky.
For this one hour no breath of fear,
Of shame or weakness wandering near
Can trusting hearts annoy:
Past things are dead, or only live
The life that hope alone can give,
And all is faith and joy.
'Tis not that beauty forces then
Her blessings on reluctant men,
But this great globe with all its might,
Its awſul depth and heavenly height,
Seems but my heart with wonder thrilling
And beating in my human breast;
My sense with inspiration filling,
Myself - beyond my nature blest.
Well for all such hours who know,
All who hail, not bid them go,
If the spirit's strong pulsation
After keeps its nobler tone,
And no helpless lamentation.
Dulls the heart when rapture's flown ;


116
Sunshine in the Soul.
'Tis vain to dream those tracts of space,
With all their worlds, approach His face:
One glory fills each wheeling ball, -
One love has shaped and moved them all.
This earth, with all its dust and tears,
Is His no less than yonder spheres ;
And rain-drops weak, and grains of sand,
Are stamped by His immediate hand.
And is this all that man can claim ?
Is this our longing's final aim ?
To be like all things round, - no more
Than pebbles cast on Time's gray shore ?
Not this our doom, Thou God benign!
Whose rays on us unclouded shine :
Thy breath sustains yon fiery dome;
But man is most Thy favored home.
We view those halls of painted air,
And own Thy presence makes them fair ;
But dearer still to Thee, O Lord !
Is he whose thoughts to Thine accord.
John STERLING,


Expectation.
117
EXPECTATION.
THE wind has blown as it listeth :
I wait with cheerful mood; —
I know the work is good.
Chilly morns of first Autumn
Proclaim a frost is near ;
I rest: I do not fear.
Winter shall come soon, and dreary :
Behind her blithe trips Spring,
My full reward to bring !
ANONYMOUS
THERE sits not on the wilderness's edge
In the dusk lodges of the wintry North,
Nor couches in the rice-field's slimy sedge,
Nor on the cold, wild waters ventures forth,
Who waits not, in the pauses of his toil,
With hope that spirits in the air may sing ;
Who upward turns not at propitious times,
Breathless, his silent features listening,
In desert and"in lodge, on marsh and main,
To feed his hungry heart and conquer pain.
Cornelius MATTHEWS.


Thankfulness.
119
So many glorious things are here,
Noble and right!
I thank Thee, too, that Thou hast made
Joy to abound;
So many gentle thoughts and deeds
Circling us round,
That in the darkest spot of Earth
Some love is found.
I thank Thee more that all our joy
Is touched with pain;
That shadows fall on brightest hours ;
That thorns remain;
So that Earth’s bliss may be our guide,
And not our chain.
For Thou who knowest, Lord, how soon
Our weak heart clings,
Hast given us joys, tender and true,
Yet all with wings,
So that we see, gleaming on high,
Diviner things !
I thank Thee, Lord, that Thou hast kept
The best in store ;
We have enough, yet not too much •
To long for more:
A yearning for a deeper peace,
Not known before.
ADELAIDE A. PROCTER.


“ The Hills of the Lord.”
121
Green tribes from far come trooping,
And over the uplands flock;
He hath woven the zones together
As a robe for his risen rock.
They are nurseries for young rivers,
Nests for his flying cloud,
Homesteads for new-born races,
Masterful, free, and proud.
The people of tired cities
Come up to their shrines and pray;
God freshens again within them,
As He passes by all day.
And lo, I have caught their secret!
The beauty deeper than all !
This faith, — that Life's hard moments,
When the jarring sorrows befall,
Are but God ploughing his mountains;
And those mountains yet shall be
The source of his grace and freshness,
And his peace everlasting to me.
William C. Gansett.


122
Sunshine in the Soul.
SONNET.
COD speaks to hearts of men in many ways ;.
Some the red banner of the rising sun,
Spread o'er the snow-clad hills, has taught His
praise ;
Some the sweet silence when the day is done ;
Some, after loveless lives, at length have won
llis word in children's hearts and children's gaze:
And some have found Him where low rafters ring
To greet the hand that helps, the heart that
cheers ;
And some in prayer, and some in perfecting
Of watchful toil through unrewarding years :
And some not less are His, who vainly sought
His voice, and with His silence have been taught,-
Who bare His chain that bade them to be bound,
And, at the end, in finding not, have found.
SPECTATOR
VESPERS.
THEN I have said my quiet say,
When I have sung my little song,
How sweetly, sweetly dies the day
The valley and the hill along ;
How sweet the summons, “ Come away,"
That calls me from the busy throng!


Index of Authors.
127
.
.
.
.
SAXBY, Mrs. JANE EUPHEMIA, 6. 1811 ..
SCHILLER, FRIEDRICH VON (1759-1805) ..
SCHMOLCK, B. (1672–1737). · · · · · ·
SCUDDER, ELIZA . . . .. ..
SILL, EDWARD ROWLAND ........ 22
SONGS IN THE NIGHT ......... 91
SPECTATOR ..............
SPENCER, CARL . ...... 78, 113
SPITTA, CARL JOHANN PHILIPP, b. 180 . . . 18
STERLING, JOHN (1806–1844) 106, 109, III, 114, 115
STOWE, HARRIET BEECHER, b. 1812 .... 108
SUTTON, HENRY SEPTIMUS, 1854 .32, 94, 95, 96, 98
B. T. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 77
TERSTEEGEN, GERHARD (1697-1769) 9, 25, 62, 63, 85
THOREAU, HENRY DAVID (1817-1862) ... 44
TRENCH, RICHARD CHENEVIX, b. 1807 . . . . 109
VAUGHAN, HENRY (1621–1695) ..... 29, 49
WARING, ANNA LÆTITIA . . . . . . . 66, 72
WESLEYAN . . . . . . . . . . . . . 100
WHITNEY, MRS. ADELINE D. T., b. 1824 ....
WHYTEHEAD, THOMAS, d. 1843 ......
WILLIAMS, SARAH JOHANNA, 1834 . . . . . 54
WINKLER, 1713. . . . . . . . . . .
WORDSWORTH, WILLIAM (1770-1850). . . . 118
ZIHN (1682) ............. 81





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