Now, e'er for thee the sun have lost
Its glory and its light;

Or earth rejoice thee not with flowers,
Nor with its stars the night.

Now, while thou lovest all on earth,
And deemest all will last,
Before thy hope has vanished quite,
And every joy has past,-
Remember Him, the only One,
Before the days draw nigh,
When thou shalt have no joy in them,
And, praying, yearn to die.

58

IN THE TIME OF OLD AGE.

(Psalm xxv.: 7; lxxi: 9.)

If, gracious God! in life's green ardent year,
A thousand times Thy patient love I tried,
With reckless heart, with conscience hard and sear,
Thy gifts perverted and Thy power defied,—
Oh! grant me now, that winter snows appear
Around my brow and youth's bright promise hide,-
Grant me with reverential awe to hear

Thy holy voice and in Thy word confide!

Blot from my book of life its early stain !
Since days misspent will never more return,
My future path do Thou in mercy trace;
So cause my soul with pious zeal to burn,
That all the trust which in Thy name I place,
Frail as I am, may not prove wholly vain!

59

AS THE GRASS.

My days are as the grass;
Swiftly my seasons pass;

And like the flowers 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 must hide my

The wind that passes o'er

head.

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,

Has made us as the grass,—

The grass that always has another day.

60

THE RIGHTEOUS MAN.

(Psalm i.)

The man in life, where'er plac'd,
Hath happiness in store,
Who walks not in the wicked's way,

Nor learns their guilty lore.

Not from the seat of scornful pride
Casts forth his eyes abroad,

But, with humility and awe,
Still walks before his God.

That man shall flourish like the trees
Which by the streamlets grow;
The fruitful top is spread on high,
And firm the root below.

But he whose blossoms bud in guilt
Shall to the ground be cast,
And like the ruthless stubble tost
Before the sweeping blast.

For why? that God, the good adore,
Hath giv'n them peace and rest,
But hath decreed that wicked men
Shall ne'er be truly blest.

61

THE HAPPINESS OF PEACE.

How happy is he born or taught
Who serveth not another's will;
Whose armor is his honest thought,
And simple truth his highest skill;
Whose passions not his masters are,
Whose soul is still prepared for death;
Not tied unto the world with care
Of public fame or private breath.

62

Who God doth late and early pray,
More of His grace than goods to lend,
And walks with man, from day to day,
As with a brother and a friend!

This man is freed from servile hands.
Of hope to rise, or fears to fall,
Lord of himself, though not of lands,
And having nothing, yet hath all.

WAITING.

Not 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.