Poems with Power to Strengthen the Soul Part 117

On two days it steads not to run from thy grave: The appointed and the unappointed day; On the first neither balm nor physician can save, Nor thee on the second the universe slay.

--Ralph Waldo Emerson.

ROUNDEL

I do not know thy final will, It is too good for me to know.

Thou willest that I mercy show, That I take heed and do no ill, That I the needy warm and fill, Nor stones at any sinner throw; But I know not thy final will, It is too good for me to know.

I know thy love unspeakable-- For love's sake able to send woe!

To find thine own thou lost didst go, And wouldst for men thy blood yet spill!

How should I know thy final will, G.o.dwise too good for me to know!

--George Macdonald.

One prayer I have--all prayers in one-- When I am wholly thine: Thy will, my G.o.d, thy will be done, And let that will be mine; All-wise, almighty, and all-good, In thee I firmly trust, Thy ways, unknown or understood, Are merciful and just.

Fear him, ye saints, and you will then Have nothing else to fear; Make you his service your delight, He'll make your wants his care.

The best will is our Father's will, And we may rest there calm and still; O make it hour by hour thine own, And wish for naught but that alone Which pleases G.o.d.

--Paul Gerhardt.

It is Lucifer, The son of mystery; And since G.o.d suffers him to be He, too, is G.o.d's minister, And labors for some good By us not understood!

--Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.

Rabbi Jehosha had the skill To know that heaven is in G.o.d's will.

--James Russell Lowell.

G.o.d'S PRESENCE

POSSESSION, SATISFACTION, REFLECTION

THE SECRET OF HIS PRESENCE

In the secret of his presence I am kept from strife of tongues; His pavilion is around me, And within are ceaseless songs!

Stormy winds, his word fulfilling, Beat without, but cannot harm, For the Master's voice is stilling Storm and tempest to a calm.

In the secret of his presence All the darkness disappears; For a sun that knows no setting, Throws a rainbow on my tears.

So the day grows ever lighter, Broadening to the perfect noon; So the day grows ever brighter, Heaven is coming, near and soon.

In the secret of his presence Never more can foes alarm; In the shadow of the Highest, I can meet them with a psalm; For the strong pavilion hides me, Turns their fiery darts aside, And I know, whate'er betides me, I shall live because he died!

In the secret of his presence Is a sweet, unbroken rest; Pleasures, joys, in glorious fullness, Making earth like Eden blest; So my peace grows deep and deeper, Widening as it nears the sea, For my Saviour is my keeper, Keeping mine and keeping me!

--Henry Burton.

EYESERVICE

Eyeservice let me give The while I live; In shadow or in light, By day or night, With all my heart and skill-- Eyeservice still!

Yes, for the eyes I'll serve-- Nor faint nor swerve-- Are not the eyes of man, That lightly scan, But G.o.d's, that pierce and see The whole of me!

Beneath the farthest skies, Where morning flies, In heaven or in h.e.l.l, If I should dwell, In dark or daylight fair, The Eyes are there!

No trembling fugitive, Boldly I live If, as in that pure sight, I live aright, Yielding with hand and will Eyeservice still!

--Amos R. Wells.

OMNIPRESENCE

Lord of all being, throned afar, Thy glory flames from sun and star; Center and soul of every sphere, Yet to each loving heart how near!

Sun of our life, thy quickening ray Sheds on our path the glow of day; Star of our hope, thy softened light Cheers the long watches of the night.

Our midnight is thy smile withdrawn; Our noontide is thy gracious dawn; Our rainbow arch thy mercy's sign; All, save the clouds of sin, are thine!

Lord of all life, below, above, Whose light is truth, whose warmth is love, Before thy ever-blazing throne We ask no l.u.s.ter of our own.

Grant us thy truth to make us free, And kindling hearts that burn for thee, Till all thy living altars claim One holy light, one heavenly flame.

--Oliver Wendell Holmes.

THE CHERUBIC PILGRIM

G.o.d's spirit falls on me as dew drops on a rose, If I but like a rose my heart to him unclose.

The soul wherein G.o.d dwells--what Church can holier be?

Becomes a walking tent of heavenly majesty.

Lo! in the silent night a child to G.o.d is born, And all is brought again that ere was lost or lorn.

Could but thy soul, O man, become a silent night G.o.d would be born in thee and set all things aright.