That murmur, soon replies, "God doth not need Either man's work or his own gifts; who best Bear his mild yoke, they serve him best: his state Is kingly; thousands at his bidding speed, And post o'er land and ocean without rest; They also serve who only stand and wait." SAID I NOT SO. MILTON. SAID I not so, that I would sin no more? Yet I am run again upon the score: My faults cannot be hid. What shall I do?- Make vows and break them still? "T will be but labor lost; My good cannot prevail against mine ill : O, say not so; thou canst not tell what strength Perhaps perform it when thou thinkest least. Thy God hath not denied thee all, Thy vows; and if thou break them, weep. Weep for thy broken vows, and vow again : Vows made with tears cannot be still in vain. Then once again I vow to mend my ways; Lord, say Amen, And thine be all the praise, GEORGE HERBERT ON JORDAN'S STORMY BANKS. ON Jordan's stormy banks I stand, To Canaan's fair and happy land, O the transporting, rapturous scene And rivers of delight. There generous fruits, that never fail, THE SPIRIT-LAND. FATHER! thy wonders do not singly stand, JONES VERY. THERE IS A LAND OF PURE DELIGHT. There everlasting spring abides, And never-withering flowers; Sweet fields beyond the swelling flood But timorous mortals start and shrink O, could we make our doubts remove, Could we but climb where Moses stood, Not Jordan's stream, nor death's cold flood, ISAAC WATTS. Within the brightness of thy face, And our soul In the scroll Of life and blissfulness enroll, HEAVEN. BEYOND these chilling winds and gloomy skies, That we may praise thee to eternity. Allelujah! There is a land where beauty never dies, JEREMY TAYLOR. Where love becomes immortal; A land whose life is never dimmed by shade, Whose fields are ever vernal; We may not know how sweet its balmy air, We may not hear the songs that echo there, The city's shining towers we may not see For Death, the silent warder, keeps the key But sometimes, when adown the western sky Its golden gates swing inward noiselessly, And while they stand a moment half ajar, Stream brightly through the azure vault afar O land unknown! O land of love divine! Father, all-wise, eternal! O, guide these wandering, wayworn feet of mine "ONLY WAITING." ANONYMOUS. poor; They 'll home again, full laden, to thy door; Even let them flow, and make the places glad [A very aged man in an almshouse was asked what he was doing And thine eye gladden with the playing beam now. He replied, "Only waiting."] ONLY waiting till the shadows Are a little longer grown, Only waiting till the glimmer Of the day's last beam is flown; Till the night of earth is faded From the heart, once full of day; Till the stars of heaven are breaking Through the twilight soft and gray. Only waiting till the reapers Have the last sheaf gathered home, For the summer time is faded, And the autumn winds have come. Quickly, reapers! gather quickly The last ripe hours of my heart, For the bloom of life is withered, And I hasten to depart. Only waiting till the angels Open wide the mystic gate, At whose feet I long have lingered, That now upon the water dances, now Is it not lovely? Tell me, where doth dwell And if, indeed, 't is not the outward state, Man's varied powers and raise him from the brute. be dull? and thy poor mind Thou talk of life, with half thy soul asleep? |