Who Shall Roll Away the Stone ?

Many a storm-cloud sweeping o'er us,

pours on us its rain ;
Many a grief we see before us

Never comes to give us pain.
Oft-times in the feared to-morrow

Sunshine comes, the cloud has flown : -- Ask not then in foolish sorrow,

“ Who shall roll away the stone ?”

Burden not thy soul with sadness,

Make the wiser, better choice ! Tread the path of life with gladness,

God doth bid thee, man, rejoice!
In to-day's bright sunshine basking,

Leave to-morrow's cares alone;
Spoil not present joys by asking

Who shall roll away the stone?”

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Out of Prison.



The apostle slept. A light shone in the prison ;

An angel touched his side. “ Arise!” he said; and quickly he hath risen,

His fettered arms untied.

The watchers saw no light at midnight gleaming,

They heard no sound of feet:
The gates fly open, and the saint, still dreaming,

Stands free upon the street.

So when the Christian's eyelid droops and closes,

In nature's parting strife,
A friendly angel stands where he reposes,

To wake him up to life.

He gives a gentle blow, and so releases

The spirit from its clay;
From sin's temptations and from life's distresses

He bids it come away.

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It rises up, and from its darksome mansion

It takes its silent flight,
And feels its freedom in the large expansion

Of heavenly air and light.

Behind it hears Time’s iron gates close faintly ;

It now is far from them;
For it has reached the city of the saintly,

The New Jerusalem.

A voice is heard on earth of kinsfolk, weeping

The loss of one they love;
But he is gone where the redeemed are keeping

A festival above.

The mourners throng the way, and from the steeple

The funeral bell tolls slow;
But on the golden streets the holy people

Are passing to and fro,

And saying as they meet, “ Rejoice! another,

Long waited for, is come ; ”
The Saviour's heart is glad; a younger brother
Hath reached the Father's home.


Are they Trifles ?




Why do we speak of a "little thing,”

And “trifles light as air ?”
Can aught be a trifle which helps to bring

One moment's joy or care ?
The smallest seed in the fertile ground

Is the germ of a noble tree;
The lightest touch on a festering wound,

Is it not agony ?

What is a trifle ?--a thoughtless word,

Forgotten as soon as said ? Perchance its echo shall yet be heard,

When the speaker is with the dead.
That thoughtless word is a random dart,

And strikes we know not where !
It may rankle long in some tender heart-

Is it a trifle there?


Is it a trifle, the first false step

On the dizzy verge of sin ?


Are they Trifles ?

'Tis treacherous ground, one little slip

May plunge us headlong in;
One light temptation, and we may wear

Death's galling chain for aye;
One little moment of heartfelt prayer

May rend those bonds away.

Drops of water are little things,

But they form a boundless sea ;
'Tis in little notes that the wild bird sings,

Yet his song is melody.
Little voices, now scarcely heard,

In heaven sha!l bear their part;
And a little grave in the green churchyard

Holds many a parent's heart.

Cease, then, to speak of a “ little thing,"

Which may give thy brother pain ;
Shun little sins, lest they haply bring

The greater in their train.
Seize each occasion, however small,

Of good which may be given :
So, when thou hearest thy Master's call,

Thou shalt be great in heaven.”

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