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One little spark, enkindled,

May set a town on fire.
What volumes may be written
With little drops of ink!
How small a leak, unnoticed,
A mighty ship will sink!
A tiny insect's labour

Makes the coral strand,
And mighty seas are girdled
With grains of golden sand.

A daily penny, saved,

A fortune may begin :
A daily penny, squander'd,
May lead to vice and sin.
Our life is made entirely

Of moments multiplied,

As little streamlets, joining,
Form the ocean's tide.

Our hours and days, our months and years,
Are in small moments given :
They constitute our time below,
Eternity in heaven.

2298. LITTLE THINGS: not to be despised.

Do thy little, God hath made
Million leaves for forest shade;
Smallest stars their glory bring—
God employeth everything.

Do thy little, and when thou
Feelest on thy pallid brow,
Ere has fled the vital breath,

Cold and damp the sweat of death

Then the little thou hast done,
Little battles thou hast won,
Little masteries achieved,
Little wants with care relieved,
Little words in love express'd,
Little wrongs at once confess'd,
Little favours kindly done,
Little toils thou didst not shun,
Little graces meekly worn,
Little slights with patience borne-

These shall crown the pillow'd head,
Holy light upon thee shed;
These are treasures that shall rise
Far beyond the smiling skies.

2299. LITTLE THINGS: not to be despised.

SCORN not the slightest word or deed, Nor deem it void of power,

There's fruit in each wind-wafted seed, Waiting its natal hour.

LITTLE THINGS

A whisper'd word may touch the heart, And call it back to life;

A look of love bid sin depart,

And still unholy strife.

No act falls fruitless; none can tell
How vast its power may be ;
Nor what results enfolded dwell
Within it, silently.

Work and despair not; give thy mite,
Nor care how small it be;
God is with all that serve the right,
The holy, true, and free!

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LITTLE THINGS

He thought not of the deed he did,
But judged that toil might drink.
He pass'd again and lo! the well,
By summers never dried,

Had cool'd ten thousand parching tongues,
And saved a life beside!

A dreamer dropp'd a random thought, 'Twas old, and yet was new;

A simple fancy of the brain,

But strong in being true; It shone upon a genial mind,

And lo! its light became A lamp of life, a beacon ray,

A monitory flame.

The thought was small, its issue great,

A watch-fire on the hill;

It sheds its radiance far adown,
And cheers the valley still!

A nameless man amid a crowd

That throng'd the daily mart, Let fall a word of hope and love,

Unstudied from the heart;

A whisper on the tumult thrown,
A transitory breath,

It raised a brother from the dust,
It saved a soul from death.-Mackay.

2303. LITTLE THINGS: tests.

'LITTLE by little,' the tempter said, As a dark and cunning snare he spread For the young, unwary feet. 'Little by little, and day by day, I will tempt the careless soul astray Into the broad, flowery way,

Until the ruin made is complete.

'Little by little,' sure and slow,
We fashion our future of bliss or woe,

As the present passes away.
Our feet are climbing the stairway bright,
Up to the regions of endless light,
Or gliding downward into the night,
'Little by little, and day by day.'

2304. LIVES. Aimless

THE river goes drifting past me,
On toward the great wide sea,
Dallying here with the lilies,

Woo'd by the wind and bee,
And whispering there to the rushes
And reeds in the eddies' edge,
Where the plover's nest is hidden,
Deep in the cool green sedge.

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So, idle and dreaming ever,

It drifts to the great wide sea, And is lost in the world of waters : And it is a type of me.

My life goes drifting stilly,

Like a river, with the years,
And it has enough of sunshine
To make me long for tears.
I am drifting idly onward,
And I throw the hours away,
For an hour is counted squander'd,
If it holds no good, they say.
And if there is nought of evil,

And nothing of good in me,
Then life is an utter failure,

As it drifts to the unknown sea
If the force in the idle river
Were made to work for men,
As it floats along to the ocean

To come not back again,
In turning the busy mill-wheel
On its green and pleasant edge,
Instead of its aimless drifting

Past lily and reed and sedge,
Then as it nears the ocean,

And is merged in the mighty flood, They would say of the little river,

'It has done the best it could.'

I am tired of aimless drifting,
A leaf on the tide of time.

I will force the power within me
To deeds which, if not sublime,
Shall be something helpful and heartful
To those I meet in the way.

I will be no more like the river;
Let me work as best I may ;
And when to find the New World
I sail o'er the great wide sea,
Let He did his best,' be spoken
By those who come after me.

2305. LIVING TO CHRIST.

WE are the Lord's, whether we live or die;
We are the Lord's, who for us all hath died;
We are the Lord's, and heirs of the Most High;
We are the Lord's, and shall the Lord's abide.

We are the Lord's-to Him, then, let us live,

With soul and body, both with deeds and words, While heart, and tongue, and life assurance give

Of this most precious truth: we are the Lord's! We are the Lord's-so shall our hearts ne'er fail, For one bright star its steady light affids,

To cheer and guide us through the gloomy vale,
It is the blessed word: we are the Lord's!

We are the Lord's, who will preserve us still,
When none beside Him help to us accords;

In death's last conflict we will fear no ill,
Thy word abideth true: we are the Lord's.

2306. LIVING WATERS.

That they were dearer far than we had taught
Ourselves to think. We see that nothing less
Than hope of their return could cheer or bless
Our weary days. We wonder how, for aught
Or all of fault in them, we could find heed
Or anger, with their loving presence near,
Or wound them by the smallest word or deed.
Dear absent love of mine, it did not need
Thy absence to tell me that thou wert dear,

IN some wild Eastern legend the story has been And yet the absence maketh it more clear. told,

Of a fair and wondrous fountain, that flow'd in times of old,

2308. LONELY.

Comfort for the

Helen Hunt.

Cold and crystalline its waters, brightly glancing in THERE is a land where beauty will not fade, the ray

Of the summer moon at midnight, or the sun at height of day.

And a good angel, resting there, once in a favour'd

hour

Nor sorrow dim the eye;

Where true hearts will not sink nor be dismay'd,

And love will never die.

Tell me, I fain would go,

For I am burden'd with a heavy woe;

Infused into the limpid depths a strange mysterious The beautiful have left me all alone;

power;

A hidden principle of life, to rise and gush again, Where but some drops were scatter'd on the dry and barren plain.

So the traveller might journey, not now in fear and haste,

Far through the mountain desert, far o'er the sandy waste,

If but he sought this fountain first, and from its wondrous store

The true, the tender, from my path have gone,
And I am weak and fainting with despair;
Where is it, tell me where?

Friend, thou must trust in Him who trod before
The desolate path of life;

Must bear in meekness, as He meekly bore,
Sorrow, and toil, and strife.
Think how the Son of God
These thorny paths has trod,
Yet tarried out for thee the appointed woe;

The secret of unfailing springs alone with him he Think of His loneliness in places dim,

bore.

When no man comforted or cared for Him;
Think how He pray'd, unaided, and alone,

Wild and fanciful the legend—yet may not meanings In that dread agony, 'Thy will be done!' high,

Friend, do not thou despair,

Visions of better things to come, within its shadow Christ, in His heaven of heavens, will hear thy lie?

Type of a better fountain, to mortals now unseal'd, The full and free salvation in Christ our Lord reveal'd?

Beneath the Cross those waters rise, and he who finds them there

All through the wilderness of life the living stream may bear;

And blessings follow in his steps, until where'er he goes,

The moral wastes begin to bud and blossom as the rose.-H. L. L.

2307. LONELINESS: its lessons.

THE shortest absence brings to every thought
Of those we love a solemn tenderness.
It is akin to death. Now, we confess,
Seeing the loneliness their loss has brought,

prayer!-Uhland.

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As plains the homesick ocean-shell
Far from its own remember'd sea,
Repeating, like a fairy spell

Of love, the charmed melody

It learn'd within that whispering wave,
Whose wondrous and mysterious tone
Still wildly haunts its winding cave
Of pearls, with softest music-moan-
So asks my homesick soul below,

For something loved, yet undefined;
So mourns to mingle with the flow

Of music, from the Eternal Mind; So murmurs, with its child-like sigh, The melody it learn'd above.

To which no echo may reply,

Save from thy voice, Celestial Love! Frances S. Osgood.

2311. LONGINGS. Diverse

AN old farm-house with meadows wide,
And sweet with clover on each side;
A bright-eyed boy who looks from out
The door with woodbine wreath'd about,
And wishes his one thought all day :

'Oh! if I could but fly away
From this dull spot the world to see,
How happy, happy, happy,
How happy I would be!'

Amid the city's constant din,

A man who round the world has been
Is thinking, thinking all day long;

'Oh! if I could only trace once more
The field-path to the farm-house door,
The old green meadows could I see,
How happy, happy, happy,
How happy I would be!'

2312. LOOKING TO JESUS.

HE bids us come; His voice we know,
And boldly on the waters go,

To Him our Lord and God;
We walk on life's tempestuous sea,
For He who died to set us free,
Hath call'd us by His word.

Secure from troubled waves we tread,
Nor all the storms around us heed,
While to our Lord we look ;
O'er every fierce temptation bound,
The billows yield a solid ground,

The wave is firm as rock.

But if from Him we turn our eye, And see the raging floods run high,

And feel our fears within ;

Our foes so strong, our flesh so frail, Reason and unbelief prevail,

And sink us into sin.

Lord, we our unbelief confess,
Our little spark of faith increase,

That we may doubt no more;
But fix on Thee a steady eye,
And on Thine outstretch'd arm rely,
Till all the storm is o'er.

2313. LOOKING TO JESUS. JESUS in thy memory keep,

Would'st thou be God's child and friend;

Jesus in thy heart shrined deep,

Still thy gaze on Jesus bend. In thy toiling, in thy resting, Look to Him with every breath, Look to Jesus' life and death. Look to Jesus, till reviving

Faith and love thy life-springs swell; Strength for all things good deriving

From Him who did all things well: Work, as He did, in thy season, Works which shall not fade away, Work while it is call'd to-day.

Look to Jesus, prayerful, waking,

When thy feet on roses tread;
Follow, worldly pomp forsaking,
With thy cross where He hath led.
Look to Jesus in temptations,
Baffled shall the tempter flee,
And God's angels come to thee.
Look to Jesus when distressed,

See what He, the Holy, bore;
Is thy heart with conflict pressèd?
Is thy soul still harass'd sore?
See His sweat of blood, His conflict,
Watch His agony increase,
Hear His prayer and feel His peace.
By want's fretting cares surrounded,
Does long pain press forth thy sighs?
By ingratitude deep wounded,

Does a scornful world despise?

LOOKING TO JESUS

Friends forsake thee or deny thee?
See what Jesus did endure,
He who as the light was pure.
Look to Jesus still to shield thee,
When no longer thou may'st live;
In that last need He will yield thee
Peace the world can never give.
Look to Him, thy head low bending;

He who finish'd all for thee,

Takes thee then with Him to be.-Franzen.

2314. LOOKING TO JESUS.

I LOOK to Jesus, and the cloud

Of my transgressions melts away, E'en as the blackest midnight shroud Gives place to the returning day.

I look to Jesus, and the stains

Of my life's guilt, though dark and deep, Are wash'd, till not a spot remains,

And I can safely wake and sleep.

I look to Jesus, and the face

Of God is turn'd on me in love, I feel a Father's fond embrace,

And all my doubts and fears remove.

I look to Jesus, and behold!

My heart is lighten'd of its cares, My love for earthly things grows cold, And Pleasure vainly spreads her snares.

I look to Jesus, when my foes

With violence my peace assail; On His dear breast I find repose, And all their hateful efforts fail.

I look to Jesus, and the sight

Of all that He endured for me, Makes e'en my greatest suff'rings light Compared with His deep agony.

I look to Jesus, when my zeal,

And faith, and love, grow dead and cold; Then doth He Calvary reveal,

And makes me in His service bold.

I look to Jesus, when the waves
Of dark corruptions rage within,
And He from their dominion saves,
From their pollution makes me clean.

I look to Jesus, and I see

Heaven's golden portals opening wide, With ready welcome e'en to me,

Though vile, to enter and abide. Thus let me, Lord, while life doth last, In faith look ever up to Thee,

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No gospel like this feast

Spread for Thy Church by Thee; Nor prophet, nor evangelist Preach the glad news so free.

All our redemption cost,

All our redemption won ; All it has won for us, the lost; All it cost Thee, the Son.

Thine was the bitter price,

Ours is the free gift, given; Thine was the blood of sacrifice, Ours is the wine of heaven.

Here we would rest midway,

As on a sacred height, That darkest and that brightest day Meeting before our sight.

From that dark depth of woes

Thy love for us has trod,
Up to the heights of bless'd repose
Thy love prepares with God;-
Till from self's chains released,

One sight alone we see,
Still at the cross, as at the feast,
Behold Thee, only Thee.

2316. LORD'S SUPPER. Invitation to the

Lo, the feast is spread to-day!

Jesus summons, come away!

From the vanity of life,

From the sounds of mirth or strife,

To the feast by Jesus given,

Come and taste the Bread of Heaven.

Why, with proud excuse and vain,
Spurn His mercy once again?
From amidst life's social ties,
From the farm and merchandise,

Come, for all is now prepared;
Freely given, be freely shared.

Blessed are the lips that taste
Our Redeemer's marriage feast;
Blessed who on Him shall feed,
Bread of Life, and drink indeed.
Blessed, for their thirst is o'er,
They shall never hunger more.

Make, then, once again your choice,
Hear to-day His calling voice;

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