Poems with Power to Strengthen the Soul Part 109

--William Shakespeare.

EVENING HYMN

It is the evening hour, And thankfully, Father, thy weary child Has come to thee.

I lean my aching head Upon thy breast, And there, and only there, I am at rest.

Thou knowest all my life, Each petty sin, Nothing is hid from thee Without, within.

All that I have or am Is wholly thine, So is my soul at peace, For thou art mine.

To-morrow's dawn may find Me here, or there; It matters little, since thy love Is everywhere!

THE BELIEVER'S HERITAGE

No care can come where G.o.d doth guard; No ill befall whom he doth keep; In safety hid, of trouble rid, I lay me down in peace and sleep.

I wholly love thy holy name; I hail with glee thy glorious will; Where'er I go, 'tis joy to know That thou, my King, art near me still.

Thy power immense, consummate, grand, Thy wisdom, known to thee alone, Thy perfect love, all thought above, Make me a sharer in thy throne.

With thee abiding none can fear, Nor lack, of every good possessed; Thy grace avails, whate'er a.s.sails, And I in thee am fully blest.

Then leap, my heart, exultant, strong, Cast every doubt and weight away; Give thanks and praise to G.o.d always, For he will guide to perfect day!

--James Mudge.

"HE CARETH FOR THEE"

What can it mean? Is it aught to him That the nights are long and the days are dim?

Can he be touched by griefs I bear Which sadden the heart and whiten the hair?

Around his throne are eternal calms, And strong, glad music of happy psalms, And bliss unruffled by any strife.

How can he care for my poor life?

And yet I want him to care for me While I live in this world where the sorrows be; When the lights die down on the path I take, When strength is feeble, and friends forsake, When love and music, that once did bless, Have left me to silence and loneliness, And life's song changes to sobbing prayers-- Then my heart cries out for G.o.d who cares.

When shadows hang o'er me the whole day long, And my spirit is bowed with shame and wrong; When I am not good, and the deeper shade Of conscious sin makes my heart afraid; And the busy world has too much to do To stay in its course to help me through, And I long for a Saviour--can it be That the G.o.d of the Universe cares for me?

Oh, wonderful story of deathless love!

Each child is dear to that heart above; He fights for me when I cannot fight; He comforts me in the gloom of night; He lifts the burden, for he is strong; He stills the sigh and awakes the song; The sorrow that bowed me down he bears, And loves and pardons because he cares.

Let all who are sad take heart again; We are not alone in hours of pain; Our Father stoops from his throne above To soothe and quiet us with his love.

He leaves us not when the storm is high, And we have safety, for he is nigh.

Can it be trouble which he doth share?

O rest in peace, for the Lord does care.

CAST THY BURDEN ON THE LORD

Thou who art touched with feeling of our woes, Let me on thee my heavy burden cast!

My aching, anguished heart on thee repose.

Leaving with thee the sad mysterious past; Let me submissive bow and kiss the rod; Let me "be still, and know that thou art G.o.d."

Why should my hara.s.sed agitated mind Go round and round this terrible event?

Striving in vain some brighter side to find, Some cause why all this anguish has been sent?

Do I indeed that sacred truth believe-- Thou dost not willingly afflict and grieve?

My lovely gourd is withered in an hour!

I droop, I faint beneath the scorching sun; My Shepherd, lead me to some sheltering bower; There where thy little flock "lie down at noon"; Though of my dearest earthly joy bereft Thou art my portion still; thou, thou, my G.o.d, art left.

--Charlotte Elliott.

Says G.o.d: "Who comes towards me an inch through doubtings dim, In blazing light I do approach a yard towards him."

--Oriental, tr. by William Rounseville Alger.

The light of love is round His feet, His paths are never dim; And He comes nigh to us, when we Dare not come nigh to Him.

--Frederick William Faber.

Not in our waking hours alone His constancy and care are known, But locked in slumber fast and deep He giveth to us while we sleep.

--Frederick Lucian Hosmer.

HIS CARE

G.o.d holds the key of all unknown, And I am glad.

If other hands should hold the key, Or if he trusted it to me, I might be sad.

What if to-morrow's cares were here Without its rest?

I'd rather he unlock the day, And as the hours swing open say, "Thy will be best."

The very dimness of my sight Makes me secure; For groping in my misty way, I feel his hand; I hear him say, "My help is sure."

I cannot read his future plan, But this I know: I have the smiling of his face, And all the refuge of his grace, While here below.

Enough; this covers all my want, And so I rest; For what I cannot he can see, And in his care I sure shall be Forever blest.

--John Parker.