"MY TIMES ARE IN THY HAND.” 237

And if some things I do not ask

In my cup of blessing be,

I would have my spirit filled the more

With grateful love to Thee;

More careful, than to serve Thee much,
To please Thee perfectly.

There are briers besetting every path,

That call for patient care, There is a cross in every lot,

And an earnest need for prayer;

But a lowly heart that leans on Thee
Is happy anywhere.

In a service which Thy will appoints,
There are no bonds for me;

For my inmost heart is taught "the truth"

That makes Thy children “free”;

And a life of self-renouncing love

Is a life of liberty.

A L. WARING.

238

BEGINNING AGAIN.

BEGINNING AGAIN.

WHEN Sometimes our feet grow weary

On the rugged hills of life,
The path stretching long and dreary

With trial and labor rife,

We pause on the upward journey,

Glancing backward o'er valley and glen,

And sigh with an infinite longing
To return and "begin again."

For behind is the dew of the morning,
With all its freshness and light,

And before are doubts and shadows

And the chill and gloom of the night;.

And we think of the sunny places

We passed so carelessly then,
And we sigh, "O Father, permit me
To return and begin again.”

We think of the many dear ones,

Whose lives touched ours at times,,

Whose loving thoughts and smiles

Float back like vesper chimes;

BEGINNING AGAIN.

And sadly remember burdens

We might have lightened then, Ah! gladly would we ease them, Could we "begin again"!

And yet how vain the seeking!
Life's duties press us on;

And who would shrink from the burden,

Or sigh for the sunshine that's gone?

And it may be, not far before us

Wait fairer places than then;

Our paths may lead by still waters,
Though we may not "begin again.”

Yes, upward and onward forever
Be our path on the hills of life!
But ere long a radiant dawning

Will glorify trial and strife;
And our Father's hand will lead us
Tenderly upward then—

In the joy and peace of the better world
He'll let us "begin again."

239

240

MORE LIFE.

MORE LIFE.

NOT weary of thy world

So beautiful, O Father, in thy love,

Thy world, that, glory lighted from above, Lies in thy hand impearled;

Not asking rest from toil;

Sweet toil that draws us nearer to thy side;
Ever to tend thy planting satisfied,
Though in ungenial soil;

Not to be freed from care,

That lifts us out of self's lone hollowness;
Since unto thy dear feet we all may press,

And leave our burdens there;

But O for tireless strength!

A life untainted by the curse of sin,

That spreads no vile contagion from within; Found without spot at length.

For power and stronger will,

To pour out love from the heart's inmost springs;
A constant freshness for all needy things;

In blessing, blessed still!

NOT KNOWING.

O to be free, heart-free

From all that checks the right endeavor here!

To drop the weariness, the pain, the fear, To know death cannot be!

More life! the life of heaven!

A perfect liberty to do thy will;

Receiving all from thee, and giving still,

Freely as thou hast given!

241

LUCY LARCOM.

NOT KNOWING.

I KNOW not what will befall me! God hangs a mist

o'er my eyes;

And o'er each step of my onward path he makes new scenes to rise;

And

every joy he sends me comes as a sweet and glad surprise.

I see not a step before me as I tread the days of the

year;

But the Past is still in God's keeping; the Future his.

mercy shall clear;

And what looks dark in the distance may brighten as I draw near.