Sometime, when all life's lessons have been learned,
And sun and stars forevermore have set, The things which our weak judgments here have spurned, The things o'er which we grieved with lashes wet, Will flash before us out of life's dark night, As stars shine most in deeper tints of blue; And we shall see how all God's plans are right, And how what seemed reproof was love most true. And we shall see how, while we frown and sigh, God's plans go on as best for you and me; How, when we called, He heeded not our cry, Because His wisdom to the end could see. And e'en as prudent parents disallow Too much of sweet to craving babyhood, So God, perhaps, is keeping from us now Life's sweetest things, because it seemeth good. And if, sometimes, commingled with life's wine, We find the wormwood, and rebel and shrink, Be sure a wiser hand than yours or mine Pours out the potion for our lips to drink; And if some friend you love is lying low, Where human kisses cannot reach his face, Oh, do not blame the loving Father so, But wear your sorrow with obedient grace! And you shall shortly know that lengthened breath Is not the sweetest gift God sends His friend, And that, sometimes, the sable pall of death Conceals the fairest boon His love can send; If we could push ajar the gates of life, And stand within, and all God's workings see, We could interpret all this doubt and strife, And for each mystery could find a key. But not today. Then be content, poor heart; God's plans, like lilies pure and white, unfold; We must not tear the close-shut leaves apart,- Time will reveal the chalices of gold. And it, through patient toil, we reach the land Where tired feet, with sandals loosed, may rest, When we shall clearly see and understand, I think that we will say, "God knew the best!" -May Riley Smith
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One ship drives east and another drives west
With the selfsame winds that blow. 'Tis the set of the sails And not the gales Which tells us the way to go. Like the winds of the sea are the ways of fate, As we voyage along through life: 'Tis the set of a soul That decides its goal, And not the calm or the strife. -Ella Wheeler Wilcox The camel at the close of day
Kneels down upon the sandy plain To have his burden lifted off And rest again. My soul, thou too shouldst to thy knees When daylight draweth to a close, And let thy Master lift thy load, And grant repose. Else how canst thou tomorrow meet, With all tomorrow's work to do, If thou thy burden all the night Dost carry through? The camel kneels at break of day To have his guide replace his load, Then rises up anew to take The desert road. So thou shouldst kneel at morning dawn That God may give thy daily care, Assured that He no load too great Will make thee bear. -Anna Temple Whitney Not understood. We move along asunder;
Our paths grow wider as the seasons creep Along the years; we marvel and we wonder Why life is life. And then we fall asleep- Not understood. Not understood. We gather false impressions, And hug them closer as the years go by, Till virtues often seem to us transgressios; And thus men rise and fall, and live and die- Not understood. Not understood. Poor souls with stunted vision Oft measure giants by their narrow guage; The poisoned shafts of falsehood and derision Are oft impelled 'gainst those who mould the age- Not understood. Not understanding. The secret springs of action Which lie beneath the surface and the show Are disregarded; with self-satisfaction We judge our neighbor, and they often go- Not understood. Not understood. How trifles often change us! The thoughtless sentence or the fancied slight Destroys long years of friendship, and estrange us, And on our souls there falls a freezing blight- Not understood. Not understood. How many breasts are aching For lack of sympathy! Ah, day to day How many cheerless, lonely hearts are breaking! How many noble spirits pass away- Not understood. O God! that men would see a little clearer, Or judges less harshly where they cannot see; O God! that men would draw a little nearer To one another; they'd be nearer Thee- And understood. -Thomas Bracken The spacious firmament on high,
With all the blue ethereal sky, And spangled heavens, a shining frame, Their great Original proclaim. The unwearied sun from day to day Does his Creator's power display, And publishes to every land The work of an almighty Hand. Soon as the evening shades prevail, The moon takes up the wondrous tale, And nightly, to the listening earth, Repeats the story of her birth; Whilst all the stars that round her burn, And all the planets in their turn, Confirm the tidings as they roll, And spread the truth from pole to pole. What though in solemn silence all Move round the dark terrestrial ball? What though nor real voice nor sound Amid their radiant orbs be found/ In reason's ear they all rejoice, And utter forth a glorious voice, Forever singing as they shine, "The Hand that made us is divine!" -Joseph Addison Last Eve I passed beside a blacksmith's door,
And heard the anvil ring the vesper chime; Then, looking in, I saw upon the floor Old hammers, worn with beating years of time. "How many anvils have you had," said I, "To wear and batter all these hammers so?" "Just one," said he, and then, with twinkling eye, "The anvil wears the hammers out, you know." And so, thought I, the anvil of God's Word, For ages skeptic blows have beat upon; Yet, though the noise of falling blows was heard, The anvil is unharmed-the hammers gone. -Unknown They borrowed a bed to lay His head
When Christ the Lord came down; They borrowed the ass in the mountain pass For Him to ride to town; But the crown that He wore and the Cross that He bore Were His own- The Cross was His own. He borrowed the bread when the crowd He fed On the grassy mountain side, He borrowed the dish of broken fish With which He satisfied. But the crown that He wore and the Cross that He bore Were His own- The Cross was His own. He borrowed the ship in which to sit To teach the multitude; He borrowed a nest in which to rest- He had never a home so rude; But the crown that He wore and the Cross that He bore Were His own- The Cross was His own. He borrowed a room on His way to the tomb The Passover Lamb to eat; They borrowed a cave for Him a grave, They borrowed a winding sheet. But the crown that He wore and the Cross that He bore Were His own- The Cross was His own. -Unknown Exodus 14
Have you come to the Red Sea place in your life, Where, in spite of all you can do, There is no way out, there is no way back, There is no other way but through? Then wait on the Lord, with a trust serene, Till the night of your fear is gone; He will send the winds, He will heap the floods, When He says to your soul, "Go on!" And his hand shall lead you through, clear through, Ere the watery walls roll down; No wave can touch you, no foe can smite, No mightiest sea can drown. The tossing billows may rear their crests, Their foam at your feet may break, But over their bed you shall walk dry-shod In the path that your Lord shall make. In the morning watch, 'neath the lifted cloud, You shall see but the Lord alone, When He leads you forth from the place of the sea, To a land that you have not known; And your fears shall pass as your foes have passed, You shall no more be afraid; You shall sing His praise in a better place, In a place that His hand hath made. -Annie Johnson Flint Unanswered yet the prayer your lips have pleaded
In agony of heart these many years? Does faith begin to fail, is hope declining, And think you all in vain those falling tears? Say not the Father has not heard your prayer; You shall have your desire, sometime, somewhere. Unanswered yet? tho' when you first presented This one petition at the Father's throne, It seemed you could not wait the time of asking, So anxious was your heart to have it done; If years have passed since then, do not despair, For God will answer you sometime, somewhere. Unanswered yet? But you are not unheeded; The promises of God forever stand; To him our days and years alike are equal; Have faith in God! It is your Lord's command. Hold on to Jacob's angel, and your prayer Shall bring a blessing down sometime, somewhere. Unanswered yet? Nay, do not say unanswered, Perhaps your part is not yet wholly done, The work began when first your prayer was uttered, And God will finish what He has begun. Keep incense burning at the shrine of prayer, And glory shall descend sometime, somewhere. Unanswered yet? Faith cannot be unanswered; Her feet are firmly planted on the Rock; Amid the wildest storms she stands undaunted, Nor quails before the loudest thunder shock. She knows Omnipotence has heard her prayer, And cries, "It shall be done sometime, somewhere." -Ophelia Guyon Browning Does the road wind up-hill all the way?
Yes, to the very end. Will the day's journey take the whole long day? From morn to night, my friend. But is there for the night a resting-place? A roof for when the slow dark hours begin. May not the darkness hide it from my face? You cannot miss that inn. Shall I meet other wayfarers at night? Those who have gone before. Then must I knock, or call when just in sight? They will not keep you standing at that door. Shall I find comfort, travel-sore and weak? Of labour you shall find the sum. Will there be beds for me and all who seek? Yea, beds for all who come. -Christina Georgina Rossetti |
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