Oh, Love Divine !—whose constant beam
Shines on the eyes that will not see,

And waits to bless us, while we dream

Thou leavest us because we turn from thee!

All souls that struggle and aspire,

All hearts of prayer by thee are lit ; And, dim or clear, thy tongues of fire

On dusky tribes and twilight centuries sit.

Nor bounds, nor clime, nor creed thou know'st, Wide as our needs thy favors fall;

The white wings of the Holy Ghost

Stoop, seen or unseen, o'er the heads of all.

JOHN G. WHittier.

CHEARFULNESS.

LORD, with what courage and delight

I doe each thing,

When thy least breath sustaines my wing!

I shine and move

Like those above,

And, with much gladnesse

Quitting sadnesse,

Make me faire dayes of every night.

HENRY VAUGHAN.

THE LOVE OF GOD.

THOU

HOU Grace Divine, encircling all,
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,
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.

I

THE ETERNAL GOODNESS.

SEE the wrong that round me lies,
I feel the guilt within ;

I hear, with groan and travail-cries,
The world confess its sin :

Yet, in the maddening maze of things,
And tossed by storm and flood,
To one fixed stake my spirit clings;
I know that God is good!

Not mine to look where cherubim
And seraphs may not see,
But nothing can be good in Him
Which evil is in me.

The wrong that pains my soul below
I dare not throne above;

I know not of His hate, — I know

His goodness and His love.

I dimly guess from blessings known
Of greater out of sight,
And, with the chastened Psalmist, own
His judgments too are right.

I long for household voices gone,
For vanished smiles I long,

But God hath led my dear ones on,
And He can do no wrong.

I know not what the future hath
Of marvel or surprise,

Assured alone that life and death
His mercy underlies.

And if my heart and flesh are weak
To bear an untried pain,

The bruised reed He will not break,
But strengthen and sustain.

No offering of my own I have,
Nor works my faith to prove :
I can but give the gifts He gave,
And plead His love for love.

And so beside the Silent Sea
I wait the muffled oar;

No harm from Him can come to me
On ocean or on shore.

I know not where His islands lift
Their fronded palms in air;

I only know I cannot drift
Beyond His love and care.

JOHN G. WHITTIER.

HYMN FOR THE MOTHER.

Y

My child is lying on my knees;

The signs of heaven she reads; My face is all the heaven she sees,

Is all the heaven she needs.

And she is well, yea, bathed in bliss.
If heaven is in my face,
Behind it is all tenderness
And truthfulness and grace.

I mean her well so earnestly,
Unchanged in changing mood;
My life would go without a sigh
To bring her something good.

I also am a child, and I

Am ignorant and weak ; I gaze upon the starry sky,

And then I must not speak;

For all behind the starry sky,

Behind the world so broad,

Behind men's hearts and souls doth lie

The Infinite of God.

If true to her, though troubled sore,

I cannot choose but be,

Thou who art peace for evermore,
Art very true to me.