But I saw when they stood bending low o'er the grave, But the Healer was there, and His arms were around, And He showed them a star in the bright upper world: 'Twas their star shining brilliantly there. They had each heard a voice- "I love thee, I love thee; Pass under the rod ! GOD OUR STRENGTH. MAN in his weakness needs a stronger stay Gently untwine our childish hands, that cling Help us, O Lord, with patient love to bear Each other's faults-to suffer with true meekness; WALKING IN LIGHT. "Wenn wir uns kindlich freuen." "He went on his way rejoicing.”—ACTS viii. 8. WHEN We seek with loving heart, Daily duty, daily care, For our Lord to do or bear ; All His pleasure to fulfil, Do or suffer all His will, Serve Him here with earnest love, When the ransomed look before, Then of small account appear What are trials by the way ? He, the great High Priest, draws nigh, Brings for every want supply; Healing oil, and cheering wine, Living water, bread divine. Then together all rejoice, Singing praise with heart and voice; Finding, ere our work be done, Present heaven on earth begun. Often by our Saviour blest And arising, onward haste, For the Master's next commands. Ready, at His midnight call, Then, with Him, the festal door Enter, to go out no more! MORAVIAN. From "Hymns from the Land of Luther." LET THIS SUFFICE US, LORD! He hath said "My grace is sufficient for thee."-2 COR. xii. 9 "I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee."-HEB. xiii. 5. LET this suffice us, Lord! Let this suffice us in our darkest hours, When thoughts of speechless sadness weigh us down, And in the midst of friends we move alone, Scared by the future that before us lowers! Let this suffice! So much has left us, Lord! Our youth, youth's hopes have faded all away : So much has left! So much will leave us, Lord! Trembling we count our good things still in view; Thou never wilt forsake! Not for the sin that stains this very prayer, 142 Let this suffice us, Lord! Let this support each onward step we take; Let this suffice! THE BURIAL OF MOSES. By Nebo's lonely mountain, On this side Jordan's wave, In a vale in the land of Moab, For the "Sons of God" upturned the sod, And laid the dead man there. That was the grandest funeral That ever passed on earth; Comes when the night is done, And the crimson streak on ocean's cheek Noiselessly as the spring-time Open their thousand leaves; |