S

EVENING HYMN

William Henry Furness

LOWLY by God's hand unfurled,

Down around the weary world

Falls the darkness; oh, how still

Is the working of Thy will!

Mighty Maker! Here am I,-
Work in me as silently,

Veil the day's distracting sights,
Show me heaven's eternal lights.

From the darkened sky come forth
Countless stars, a wondrous birth!
So may gleams of glory dart
Through the dim abyss, my heart;

Living worlds to view be brought
In the boundless realms of thought,
High and infinite desires,
Burning like those upper fires.

Holy truth, eternal right,

Let them break upon my sight,
Let them shine unclouded, still,
And with light my being fill.

Evening Hymn

Thou art there. Oh, let me know,

Thou art here within me too;

Be the perfect peace of God

Here as there now shed abroad.

May my soul attunèd be

To that perfect harmony,

Which, beyond the power of sound, Fills the universe around.

H

THE QUIET LIFE

Alexander Pope

APPY the man whose wish and care

A few paternal acres bound,

Content to breathe his native air

In his own ground.

Whose herds with milk, whose fields with bread,
Whose flocks supply him with attire;

Whose trees in summer yield him shade,
In winter, fire.

Blest, who can unconcernd'ly find

Hours, days and years, slide soft away
In health of body, peace of mind,
Quiet by day,

Sound sleep by night; study and ease
Together mix'd; sweet recreation,
And innocence, which most does please
With meditation.

Thus let me live, unseen, unknown;
Thus unlamented let me die;

Steal from the world, and not a stone

Tell where I lie.

Not Knowing

NOT KNOWING

Mary Gardiner Brainard

Not knowing the things that shall befall me there -Acts 20: 22.

I

KNOW not what shall befall me: God hangs

a mist o'er my eyes;

And thus, each step of my onward path, He makes new scenes arise,

And every joy he sends to me comes like a sweet surprise.

I see not a step before me as I tread on another year; But I've left the past in God's keeping, -the future His mercy shall clear,

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

For perhaps the dreaded future is less bitter than I think;

The Lord may sweeten the waters before I stoop to

drink;

Or, if Marah must be Marah, He will stand beside its

brink.

It may be He keeps waiting, for the coming of my

feet,

Some gift of such rare blessedness, some joy so

strangely sweet,

That my lips shall only tremble with the thanks they cannot speak.

O restful, blissful ignorance! 'tis blessed not to know; It keeps me still in those mighty arms which will not let me go,

And lulls my weariness to rest on the bosom that loves me so.

So I go on not knowing,—I would not if I might; I would rather walk in the dark with God than go alone in the light;

I would rather walk with Him by faith than walk alone by sight.

My heart shrinks back from trials which the future may disclose,

Yet I never had a sorrow but what the dear Lord

chose;

So I send the coming tears back with the whispered word, "He knows."