LONGING FOR GOD.

Eye has not seen, ear has not heard,
No heart of man can tell,

The store of joys God has prepared

For those who love him well.

Oh, may those joys one day be ours,
Upon that happy shore!

And yet those joys are not enough,
We crave for something more.

The world's unkindness grows with life,
And troubles never cease;

'T were lawful then to wish to die,
Simply to be at peace.

Yes! peace is something more than joy,

Even the joys above;

For peace, of all created things,

Is likest him we love.

397

FREDERICK WILLIAM FABER.

Ο

Whosoever.

NE word, dear Lord, where all are dear,
Is dearest still to me:

"No soul shall ever be cast out

That cometh unto thee."

Lost in my sin and self-despair,
This is my only plea,

That, full of longing for thy grace,
I come, Lord, unto thee.

My heart can ne'er forget to chide
Its own unfaithfulness;

But thou art greater than my heart,
And thou dost only bless.

If thou hadst left a single soul
Unwelcomed by thy grace,

So great are mine iniquities,
I dare not seek thy face.

But in this "all" is room for me,
With all my load of sin;

No other door were wide enough,

Through this I enter in.

Trembling in weakness, through my trust

I fall before thy feet;

That all my help may come from thee,
E'en helplessness is sweet.

Forgetting all my sin and woe,
I live alone in thee,

And learn the mystery of thy grace,
That thou shouldst live in me.

DROP, DROP, SLOW TEARS.

If simple coming brings such bliss
As heart hath never tried,
Oh, what must be the joy of those
Who in thee, Lord, abide !

Closed in the shelter of thine arms
In childlike peace to rest,
I dare not doubt, I dare not fear,
My head upon thy breast.

The night was dark and wild with storm,
The morn breaks clear and calm;
The night was full of fierce alarms,
The morn is like a psalm.

O morn of grace, O day of love,
On which no night shall fall !
Bring all thy wanderers home at last,
O Christ, thou light of all!

Where, through the eternal years of God

Transfigured more and more,

Thy perfect glory we shall see,

And change as we adore.

399

JOSEPH ALLEN ELY.

Drop, drop, Slow Tears.

DROP, drop, slow tears, and bathe those beauteous feet,

Which brought from heaven the news and Prince of
Peace!

Cease not, wet eyes, his mercy to entreat!

To cry for vengeance sin doth never cease.

In your deep floods drown all my faults and fears;

Nor let his eye see sin but through my tears.

GILES FLETCHER.

Source of my Life.

OURCE of my life's refreshing springs,

Thy love appoints me pleasant things,
Thy mercy orders all that pains me.
If loving hearts were never lonely,
If all they wish might always be,
Accepting what they look for only,

They might be glad, but not in thee.
Well may thy own beloved, who see

In all their lot their Father's pleasure,
Bear loss of all they love, save thee,
Their living, everlasting treasure.
Well may thy happy children cease
From restless wishes prone to sin,
And, in thy own exceeding peace,
Yield to thy daily discipline.
We need as much the cross we bear,
As air we breathe, as light we see ;
It draws us to thy side in prayer,

It binds us to our strength in thee.

ANNA LÆTITIA WARING.

IF

Repentance.

F the Lord were to send down blessings from heaven as thick and as fast as the fall

Of the drops of rain or the flakes of snow, I'd love him and

thank him for all;

But the gift that I 'd crave, and the gift that I'd keep, if I'd only one to choose,

Is the gift of a broken and contrite heart,—and that he will not refuse.

REPENTANCE.

401

For what is my wish and what is my hope, when I've toiled and prayed and striven,

All the days that I live upon earth? It is this- to be for

given.

And what is my wish and what is my hope, but to end where

I begin,

With an eye that looks to my Saviour, and a heart that mourns for its sin!

Well, perhaps you think I'm going to say I'm the chief of sinners; and then

You'll tell me, as far as you can see, I 'm no worse than other

men.

I've little to do with better or worse- I have n't to judge the

rest;

If other men are no better than I, they are bad enough at the

best.

I've nothing to do with other folks; it is n't for me to say What sort of men the Scribes might be, or the Pharisees in their day;

But we know that it was n't for such as they that the kingdom of heaven was meant;

And we 're told we shall likewise perish unless we do repent.

And what have I done, perhaps you'll say, that I should fret and grieve?

I did n't wrangle, nor curse, nor swear; I did n't lie nor thieve; I'm clear of cheating and drinking and debt. — Well, perhaps,

but I cannot say ;

For some of these I had n't a mind, and some did n't come in my way.

For there's many a thing I could wish undone, though the law might not be broken;

And there's many a word, now I come to think, that I could wish unspoken.