My half day's work is done,
And this is all my part;
I give a patient God
My patient heart,

And grasp His banner still,

Though all its blue be dim;
These stripes, no less than stars,
Lead after Him.

LOVE AND DISCIPLINE.

SING

INCE in a land not barren still, Because thou dost thy grace distill, My lot is fallen, blest be thy will!

And since these biting frosts but kill
Some tares in me which choke or spill
That seed thou sow'st, blest be thy skill!

Blest be thy dew, and blest thy frost,
And happy I to be so crost,
And cured by crosses at thy cost.

The dew doth cheer what is distrest,
The frosts ill weeds nip and molest,
In both thou work'st unto the best.

Thus, while thy several mercies plot,
And work on me now cold, now hot,
The work goes on, and slacketh not:

ANON

For as thy hand the weather steers,
So thrive I best 'twixt joyes and tears,
And all the year have some green ears.

HENRY VAUGHAN, 1521-1695

PEACE IN TROUBLE.

WHAT within me and without,

Hourly on my spirit weighs,
Burdening heart and soul with doubt,
Darkening all my weary days:
In it I behold Thy will,

God, who givest rest and peace,
And my heart is calm and still,
Waiting till Thou send release.

When my trials tarry long,

Unto Thee I look and wait,
Knowing none, though keen and strong,
Can my faith in Thee abate.
O my soul, why art thou vexed?

Let things go e'en as they will;
Though to thee they seem perplexed,
Yet His order they fulfil.

Yea, on Thee, my God, I rest,
Letting life float calmly on,
For I know the last is best,
When the crown of joy is wen.

In Thy might all things I bear,
In Thy love find bitter sweet,
And, with all my grief and care,
Sit in patience at Thy feet.

Let Thy mercy's wings be spread

O'er me, keep me close to Thee; In the peace Thy love doth shed, Let me dwell eternally.

Be my All; in all I do

Let me only seek Thy will; Where the heart to Thee is true, All is peaceful, calm, and still.

REST.

A. H. FRANCKE, 1663–1729

IT

T was Thy will, my Father,
That laid Thy servant low;
It was Thy hand, my Father,
That dealt the chastening blow;
It was Thy mercy bid me rest
My weary soul awhile,
And every blessing I receive
Reflects Thy gracious smile.

It is Thy care, my Father,
That cherishes me now;
It is Thy peace, my Father,
That rests upon my brow;

It is Thy truth, Thy truth alone,
That gives my spirit rest,
And soothes me like a happy child
Upon its mother's breast.

I have known youth, my Father,
Bright as a summer's day,
And earthly love, my Father,

But that too passed away;
Now life's small taper faintly burns,
A little flickering flame,
But Thine eternal love remains
Unchangeably the same.

HYMN FOR SICKNESS.

GOD

OD! whom I as love have known,
Thou hast sickness laid on me,
And these pains are sent of Thee,
Under which I burn and moan;
All that plagues my body now,

EUPHEMIA SAXBY.

All that wasteth me away, Pressing on me night and day, Love ordains, for Love art Thou!

Suffering is my gain; I bow
To my heavenly Father's will,
And receive it hushed and still;
Suffering is my worship now.

Let my soul beneath her load

Faint not, through the o'erwearied flesh; Let her hourly drink afresh Love and peace from Thee, my God. Let the body's pain and smart

Hinder not her flight to Thee, Nor the calm Thou givest me; Keep Thou up the sinking heart.

Grant me never to complain,

Make me to Thy will resigned,
With a quiet, humble mind,
Cheerful on my bed of pain.
Wholly Thine-
my faith is sure,
Whether life or death be mine,
I am safe if I am Thine;

For 'tis Love that makes me pure.

-

RICHTER, 17:3

THE BORDER-LANDS.

FATHER, into Thy loving hands

My feeble spirit I commit,

While wandering in these Border-Lands,
Until Thy voice shall summon it.