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N silence mighty things are wrought,—
Silently builded, thought on thought,
Truth's temple greets the sky;
And like a citadel with towers,
The soul with her subservient powers
Is strengthened silently.
Soundless as chariots on the snow
The saplings of the forest grow
To trees of mighty girth;
Each nightly star in silence burns,
And every day in silence turns
The axle of the earth.
The silent frost with mighty hand
Fetters the rivers and the land
With universal chain;
And smitten by the silent sun,
The chain is loosed, the rivers run,
The lands are free again.
O Source unseen of life and light,
Thy secrecy of silent might
If we in bondage know,
Our hearts, like seeds beneath the ground,
By silent force of life unbound,
Move upward from below.
Open Thou our eyes.
"Jesus Himself drew near and went with them."-Luke xxiv, 15.
ND He drew near and talked with them,
But they perceived Him not,
And mourned, unconscious of that light-
The gloom, the darkness, and the night
That wrapped His burial spot.
Wearied with doubt, perplexed, and sad,
They knew nor help, nor guide,
While He who bore the secret key
To open every mystery,
Unknown was by their side.
Thus often when we feel alone,
No help nor comfort near,
'Tis only that our eyes are dim,
Doubting and sad we see not Him
Who waiteth still to hear.
"The darkness gathers over head,
"The morn will never come,"
Did we but raise our down-cast eyes,
In the wide-flushing eastern skies
Appears the glowing sun.
In all our daily joys and griefs,
In daily work and rest,
To those who seek Him, Christ is near,
Our bliss to calm, to soothe our care,
In leaning on His breast.
Open our eyes, O Lord we pray,
To see our way—our Guide,
That by the path that here we tread,
We following on may still be led
In Thy light to abide.
Discouraged because of the way.
HE way seems dark about me-overhead
The clouds have long since met in gloomy spread,
And when I looked to see the day break through,
Cloud after cloud came up with volume new.
And in that shadow I have passed along,
Feeling myself grow weak as it grew strong,
Walking in doubt, and searching for the way,
And often at a stand-as now to-day.
And if before me on the path there lies
A spot of brightness from imagined skies,
Imagined shadows fall across it too,
And the far future takes the present's hue.
Perplexities do throng upon my sight,
Like scudding fog-banks, to obscure the light;
Some new dilemma rises every day,
And I can only shut my eyes and pray.
Lord, I am not sufficient for these things,
Give me the light that Thy sweet presence brings; Give me Thy grace, give me Thy constant strengthLord, for my comfort now appear at length.
It may be that my way doth seem confused,
Because my heart of Thy way is afraid;
Because my eyes have constantly refused
To see the only opening Thou hast made.
Because my will would cross some flowery plain
Where Thou hast thrown a hedge from side to side;
And turneth from the stony walk of pain,
Its trouble or its ease not even tried.
If thus I try to force my way along-
The smoothest road encumbered is for me;
For were I as an angel swift and strong,
I could not go unless allowed by Thee.
And now I pray Thee, Lord, to lead Thy child—
Poor wretched wanderer from Thy grace
Whatever way Thou pleasest through the wild,
So it but take her to Thy home above.
When I am weak, then am I strong.
ALF feeling our own weakness
We place our hands in Thine,—
Knowing but half our darkness
We ask for light divine.
Then, when Thy strong arm holds us,
Our weakness most we feel,
And Thy love-light around us
Our darkness doth reveal.
Too oft, when faithless doubtings
Around our spirits press,
While thus we doubt and tremble,
Our hold still looser grows;
While on our darkness gazing
Vainly Thy radiance glows.
Oh! with Thy brightness cheer us,
And guide us by Thy hand,
In Thy light teach us light to see,
In Thy strength strong to stand.
Then though our hands be feeble,
If they but touch Thine arm,
Thy light and power shall lead us
And keep us strong and calm.
OCK of ages, cleft for me,
Let me hide myself in Thee.
Let the water and the blood,
From Thy wounded side which flowed,
Be of sin the double cure,
Cleanse me from its guilt and power.