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"Guiding Voices in the Desert."
Check the froward thoughts and passion,
Stay the hasty, heedless hand,
of sin and sorrow
Make each faithful effort blest,
And we enter into rest.
“GUIDING VOICES IN THE DESERT."
We tread a dangerous way, dark perils hover
Around the rugged path that leads to God; And poison lurks amid the flowers which cover
This world's unshaven sod.
Faint and enfeebled, on the road we linger,
Spending our yet remaining strength in sighs ; We trifle, and we need some beckoning finger
To point us to the skies.
And He who looks with pity on our anguish,
Hath sent His messengers in every time, Bidding them comfort all the souls that languish
In earth's polluted clime.
From some lips fall the gentle words and holy,
Fresh, sweet as dew that droppeth on a flower ; And spirits harsh, unconsciously and slowly,
Bind to their quiet power.
Others are fiery-tongued, bright pictures painting
With colours borrowed from the realms of light To rouse the careless, and to lift the fainting,
And both to lead aright.
We do not well to slight the message spoken,
By sons of truth, however frail they be ; Is not each sacred thought a pearly token
From love's great treasure sea ?
How many times a faithful voice has banished
The cares oppressive from a weary soul, Will but be seen when all earth’s lights have vanished.
And stars no longer roll.
"Guiding Voices in the Desert."
0! well we know whose love it is that sendeth
Precepts to guide and promises to cheer ; 0! well we know whose power it is that bendeth,
The stubborn hearts which hear.
Not yours the praise, ye faithful, earnest-hearted,
Ye would not take it, and we will not give; It riseth up to Him, whose life-blood started
That we might ever live.
Yet ye shall have our prayers—for each true servant
The pleading dove on eager wing will soar, And most for thee, O friend ! whose teaching fervent
Soon we shall hear no more.
Thou hast unwrapped for us the scroll of wonder,
Showing what earth-turned faces cannot see, The strange, sweet mysteries of that kingdom yonder,
Whose citizens we be.
Thine be the work which God's own hand rewardeth,
Thine be the sleep which His beloved ones know; Thine be the path which the All-powerful guardeth
From every fear and foe.
‘Guiding Voices in the Desert."
0! heart that o'er lost man feels quenchless yearning,
God spare thee yet to seek Him many years ; Eye that weeps joy o'er prodigals returning,
God give thee cause for tears.
May each bright weaving of the gospel story
Deep lie within our hearts through life's long day, Whilst all that cannot bring Jehovah glory,
Forgotten is for aye.
And if some ears have heard the sound of pardon,
But heeded not thy silver trumpet's blast,
May work them good at last.
This is the seed-time, wait thou for the reaping,
God will to heaven the precious harvest bear, And thou, upraised on angels' hands whilst sleeping, Shalt wake, and find it there.
M. J. H.
Who Shall Roll Away the Stone ?
WHO SHALL ROLL AWAY THE STONE?
What poor weeping ones were saying
Eighteen hundred years ago,
Say in our sad hearts of woe;
In the dark and dread unknown,
“Who shall roll away the stone ?"
Thus with care our spirits crushing
When they might from care be free,
Rise, in rapture, Lord, to Thee :
Oft we've had with joy to own,
And have rolled away the stone.