"LEAVE the future"-let it rest
Simply on thy Saviour's will.
"Leave the future"-they are blest
Who, confiding, hoping still,
Trust His mercy
To preserve them safe from ill.
Thus, like travellers in the dark,
Following the appointed way,
Though no beacon-fire they mark,
Still their faithful spirits say,
"We will follow-
Jesus leads to perfect day."
Let the present moment pass
With a blessing on its head;
And as time metes out his glass,
While our sands are numbered,
Use the present—
Soon 'twill sleep with ages
When with mists thy joys are clouded,
And when darkness fills the air— When with sin thy soul is shrouded— Then to Calvary repair ;
Jesus gives thee
Beams of pure refulgence there.
OUR blest Redeemer, ere He breathed
His tender last farewell,
A Guide, a Comforter bequeathed,
With us to dwell.
He came, sweet influence to impart,
A gracious willing Guest,
While He can find one humble heart
Wherein to rest.
And His that gentle voice we hear,
Soft as the breath of even,
That checks each thought, that calms each fear,
And speaks of heaven.
And every virtue we possess,
And every conquest won,
And every thought of holiness,
Are His alone.
Spirit of purity and grace,
Our weakness, pitying see:
Oh! make our hearts Thy dwelling-place
O LAMB of God! that tak'st away
Our sin and bidd'st our sorrow cease!
Turn now this lonely night to day—
"Grant us Thy peace!"
The troubled world hath woe without,
The restless, wayward heart within
Hath fear, and weariness and doubt,
And death and sin.
And there are needs that none can know,
And tears no eye but Thine can see;
Hopes nought can satisfy below—
We look to Thee!
'Tis not the calm, deceitful dream
That earth calls peace, we ask for now;
No dropping down the fatal stream
With careless brow.
Probe deep the wound, if so Thou wilt,
If pain must wake us! purge our dross:
Help us to lay our load of guilt
Beneath Thy Cross;
That we amid the toil and strife,
And storm, that never end belowThrough all the change and chance of life— “THY PEACE" may know!
Not changing like this lower sky-
Not bounded by these mortal bars,
Undimmed as sunshine hid on high-
Calm as the stars!
The peace that is not ours but Thine,
(O safe and true and deathless thus !)
Against which storms in vain combine,
Grant, grant to us.
MRS HENRY FAUSSETT
(ALESSIE BOND).
HARK! the voice of Jesus crying,-
"Who will go and work to-day?
Fields are white and harvest waiting;
Who will bear the sheaves away?"
Loud and strong the Master calleth,
Rich reward He offers thee;
Who will answer, gladly saying,
"Here am I; send me, send me !"
If you cannot cross the ocean,
And the heathen lands explore,
You can find the heathen nearer,
You can help them at your door.
If you cannot give your thousands,
You can give the widow's mite;
And the least you give for Jesus,
Will be precious in His sight.
Let none hear you idly saying,
"There is nothing I can do,"
While the souls of men are dying,
And the Master calls for you.
Take the task He gives you gladly,
Let His work your pleasure be;
Answer quickly when He calleth,
"Here am I ; send me, send me!"
If you cannot be the watchman,
Standing high on Zion's wall,
Pointing out the path to heaven,
Offering life and peace to all ;
With your prayers and with your bounties
You can do what heaven demands ;
You can be like faithful Aaron,
Holding up the prophet's hands.
If, among the older people,
You may not be apt to teach;
"Feed my lambs," said Christ our Shepherd, "Place the food within their reach."
And it may be that the children
You have led with trembling hand, Will be found among your jewels, When you reach the better land.
From "Sacred Songs."
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