1 HAST thou, 'midst life's empty noises,
Heard the solemn steps of Time,
And the low, mysterious voices
Of another clime?
2 Early hath life's mighty question
Thrilled within thy heart of youth,
With a deep and strong beseeching,-
What, and where, is truth?
3 Not to ease and aimless quiet
Doth the inward answer tend;
But to works of love and duty,
As our being's end.
4 Earnest toil and strong endeavor
Of a spirit which within
Wrestles with familiar evil
And besetting sin;
5 And without, with tireless vigor,
Steady heart, and purpose strong,
In the power of Truth assaileth
Every form of wrong.
1 TEACH me, my God and King,
In all things Thee to see
And what I do in anything,
To do it as for Thee!
To scorn the senses' sway,
While still to Thee I tend;
In all I do be Thou the way;
In all be Thou the end.
All may of Thee partake;
Nothing so small can be,
But draws, when acted for Thy sake,
Greatness and worth from Thee.
If done beneath Thy laws,
E'en servile labors shine;
Hallowed is toil, if this the cause;
The meanest work divine.
DIVINE MEANING IN HUMBLE THINGS.
1 THOU, Lord, who rear'st the mountain's height,
And mak'st the cliffs with sunshine bright;
O, grant that we may own Thy hand
No less in every grain of sand!
2 With forests huge, of dateless time,
Thy will has hung each peak sublime;
But withered leaves beneath the tree
Have tongues that tell as loud of Thee.
3 Teach us that not a leaf can grow,
Till life from Thee within it flow;
That not a grain of dust can be,
O Fount of being! save by Thee;
4 That every human word and deed,
Each flash of feeling, will, or creed,
Hath solemn meaning from above,
Begun and ended all in love.
1 IF on our daily course our mind Be set, to hallow all we find,
New treasures still, of countless price,
God will provide for sacrifice.
2 Old friends, old scenes, will lovelier be,
As more of heaven in each we see;
Some softening gleam of love and prayer
Shall dawn on every cross and care.
3 O could we learn that sacrifice,
What light would all around us rise!
How would our hearts with wisdom talk,
Along life's dullest, dreariest walk!
4 The trivial round, the common task,
Will furnish all we ought to ask;
Room to deny ourselves, a road
To bring us daily nearer God.
FORMS VAIN WITHOUT THE SPIRIT.
THE uplifted eye and bended knee
Are but vain homage, Lord, to Thee:
In vain our lips thy praise prolong,
The heart a stranger to the song.
2 Can rites, and forms, and flaming zeal,
The breaches of Thy precepts heal?
Or fasts and penance reconcile
Thy justice, and obtain Thy smile?
3 The pure, the humble, contrite mind, Sincere, and to Thy will resigned, To Thee a nobler offering yields
Than Sheba's groves, or Sharon's fields.
4 Love God and man,—this great command Doth on eternal pillars stand;
T'his did Thine ancient prophets teach,
And this Thy well-beloved preach.
1 ALL around us, fair with flowers,
Fields of beauty sleeping lie;
All around us clarion voices
Call to duty stern and high.
2 Thankfully we will rejoice in
All the beauty God has given;
But beware it does not win us
From the work ordained of Heaven.
3 Following every voice of mercy
With a trusting, loving heart;
Let us in life's earnest labor
Still be sure to do our part.
4 Now, to-day, and not to-morrow,
Let us work with all our might,
Lest the wretched faint and perish
In the coming stormy night.
5 Now, to-day, and not to-morrow,-
Lest, before to-morrow's sun,
We too, mournfully departing,
Shall have left our work undone.
1 SCORN not the slightest word or deed,
Nor deem it void of power;
There's fruit in each wind-wafted seed,
That waits its natal hour.
2 A whispered word may touch the heart,
And call it back to life;
A look of love bid sin depart,
And still unholy strife.
3 No act falls fruitless; none can tell
How vast its power may be,
Nor what results infolded dwell
Within it silently.
4 Work on, despair not; bring thy mite,
Nor care how small it be;
God is with all that serve the right,
The holy, true, and free.
1 O'ER the mount and through the moor
Glide the Christian's steps secure;
Day and night, no fear he knows;
Lonely, but with God, he goes:
For the coat of mail, bedight
In his spotless robe of white;
For the sinful sword, his hand
Bearing high the olive-wand.
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