ON THE DEATH OF A CHILD. Win trial's fearful hour, HEN I can truft my all with God, In Bow all refigned beneath his rod, And blefs his sparing power; A joy springs up amid distress, A fountain in the wilderness. Oh! to be brought to Jesus' feet, Though fighs and tears its language be, An earthly mind, a faithless heart, But, kind severity ! He takes a hostage of our love To draw the parent's heart above. There ftands our child before the Lord, In royal vesture drest; A victor ere he drew the sword, Ere he had toiled at rest. No doubts this bleffed faith bedim: Oh bleffed be the hand that gave; Who heals the heart he breaks. Whom Heaven adores, and Death obeys. Conder. PATIENCE. DE EAR Jesus, give me patience here, Henry Vaughan. UN WAITING FOR CHRIST. NCHANGEABLE, Almighty Lord, The true, and merciful, and just, Be mindful of thy gracious word, Wherein thou causeft me to trust. My weary eyes look out in vain, And long thy saving health to see; But known to thee is all my pain, When wilt thou come and comfort me? Prisoner of hope, to thee I turn ; Thee my strong hold, and only stay; But fhall thy creature ask thee why? I cannot choose: thou canst not err. To thee, the only wise and true, The manner and the time be thine. Only preserve my soul from sin, And plant thy heaven of love in me. Wesley. A THE ANGEL OF PATIENCE. "Ye have need of patience." Heb. 10: 36. GENTLE Angel walketh throughout a world of woe, With meffages of mercy to mourning hearts below; So gently will He lead thee through all the cloudy day, And whisper of glad-tidings to cheer the pilgrim-way; His courage never failing, when thine is almost gone, He takes thy heavy burden, and helps to bear it on. To soft and tearful sadness He changes dumb despair, And soothes to deep submiffion the ftorm of grief and care; Where midnight fhades are brooding, He pours the light of noon, And every grievous wound He heals, moft surely, if not soon. |