Shall chant itself its own beatitudes,

After its own life working. A child-kiss,

Set on thy sighing lips, shall make thee glad ;

A poor man, served by thee, shall make thee rich;

A sick man, helped by thee, shall make thee strong; Thou shalt be served thyself by every sense

Of service which thou renderest.

Mortality.

"And we shall be changed."

E dainty mosses, lichens grey,
Pressed each to each in tender fold,
And peacefully thus day by day,
Returning to your mould;-

Brown leaves that with aërial grace
Slip from your branch like birds a-wing,
Each leaving in the appointed place
Its bud of future spring;-

If we, God's conscious creatures, knew
But half your faith in our decay,
We should not tremble as we do
When summoned clay to clay.

But with an equal patience sweet,
We should put off this mortal gear,
In whatsoe'er new form is meet,
Content to re-appear.

Knowing each germ of life He gives
Must have in Him its source and rise,

Being that of His being lives

May change, but never dies.

Ye dead leaves, dropping soft and slow,
Ye mosses green and lichens fair,
Go to your graves as I will go,
For God is also there.

44

My times are in Thy hands."

ATHER, I know that all my life,

Is portioned out for me,

And the changes that are sure to come

I do not fear to see;

But I ask Thee for a patient mind,
Intent on pleasing Thee.

I ask Thee for a thoughtful love,

Through constant watching wise,
To meet the glad with joyful smiles,
And wipe the weeping eyes;
And a heart at leisure from itself,
To soothe and sympathize.

I would not have the restless will
That hurries to and fro,

Seeking for some great thing to do,

Or secret thing to know;

I would be treated as a child,

And guided where I go.

Wherever in the world I am,
In whatso'er estate,

I have a fellowship with hearts,
To keep and cultivate;

And a work of lowly love to do

For the Lord on whom I wait.

So I ask Thee for the daily strength,
To none that ask denied,

And a mind to blend with outward life,
While keeping at Thy side!
Content to fill a little space,

If Thou be glorified.

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 briars besetting every path,
That call for patient care;
There is a cross in every lot,

And an earnest need for prayer;

But the 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.