Poems with Power to Strengthen the Soul Part 108

Not a floweret fadeth, Not a star grows dim, Not a cloud o'ershadeth, But 'tis marked by him.

Dream not that thy gladness G.o.d doth fail to see; Think not in thy sadness He forgetteth thee.

Not a tie is broken, Not a hope laid low, Not a farewell spoken, But our G.o.d doth know.

Every hair is numbered, Every tear is weighed In the changeless balance Wisest Love has made.

Power eternal resteth In his changeless hand; Love immortal hasteth Swift at his command, Faith can firmly trust him In the darkest hour, For the keys she holdeth To his love and power.

"I WILL ABIDE IN THINE HOUSE"

Among so many can he care?

Can special love be everywhere?

A myriad homes--a myriad ways-- And G.o.d's eye over every place?

_Over_; but _in_? The world is full; A grand omnipotence must rule; But is there life that doth abide With mine own, loving, side by side?

So many, and so wide abroad; Can any heart have all of G.o.d?

From the great s.p.a.ces vague and dim, May one small household gather him?

I asked; my soul bethought of this: In just that very place of his Where he hath put and keepeth you, G.o.d hath no other thing to do.

--Adeline Dutton Train Whitney.

CONSTANT CARE

How gentle G.o.d's commands!

How kind his precepts are!

Come, cast your burdens on the Lord, And trust his constant care.

Beneath his watchful eye His saints securely dwell; That hand which bears all nature up Shall guard his children well.

Why should this anxious load Press down your weary mind?

Haste to your heavenly Father's throne And sweet refreshment find.

His goodness stands approved, Unchanged from day to day; I'll drop my burden at his feet, And bear a song away.

--Philip Doddridge.

THOU KNOWEST

Thou knowest, Lord, the weariness and sorrow Of the sad heart that comes to thee for rest.

Cares of to-day and burdens for to-morrow, Blessings implored, and sins to be confest, I come before thee, at thy gracious word, And lay them at thy feet. _Thou knowest, Lord!_

Thou knowest all the past--how long and blindly On the dark mountains the lost wanderer strayed, How the good Shepherd followed, and how kindly He bore it home upon his shoulders laid, And healed the bleeding wounds, and soothed the pain, And brought back life, and hope, and strength again.

Thou knowest all the present--each temptation, Each toilsome duty, each foreboding fear; All to myself a.s.signed of tribulation, Or to beloved ones than self more dear!

All pensive memories, as I journey on, Longings for suns.h.i.+ne and for music gone!

Thou knowest all the future--gleams of gladness By stormy clouds too quickly overcast-- Hours of sweet fellows.h.i.+p and parting sadness, And the dark river to be crossed at last: Oh, what could confidence and hope afford To tread this path, but this--_Thou knowest, Lord!_

Thou knowest not alone as G.o.d--all-knowing-- As _man_ our mortal weakness thou hast proved On earth; with purest sympathies o'erflowing, O Saviour, thou hast wept, and thou hast loved.

And love and sorrow still to thee may come And find a hiding-place, a rest, a home.

Therefore I come, thy gentle call obeying, And lay my sins and sorrows at thy feet; On everlasting strength my weakness staying, Clothed in thy robe of righteousness complete.

Then rising, and refreshed, I leave thy throne, And follow on to know as I am known!

A GREAT DIFFERENCE

Men lose their s.h.i.+ps, the eager things To try their luck at sea, But none can tell, by note or count, How many there may be.

One turneth east, another south-- They never come again, And then we know they must have sunk, But neither how nor when.

G.o.d sends his happy birds abroad-- "They're less than s.h.i.+ps," say we; No moment pa.s.ses but he knows How many there should be.

One buildeth high, another low, With just a bird's light care-- If only one, perchance, doth fall, G.o.d knoweth when and where.

HE CARETH FOR YOU

If I could only surely know That all these things that tire me so Were noticed by my Lord.

The pang that cuts me like a knife, The lesser pains of daily life, The noise, the weariness, the strife, What peace it would afford!

I wonder if he really shares In all my little human cares, This mighty King of kings.

If he who guides each blazing star Through realms of boundless s.p.a.ce afar Without confusion, sound or jar, Stoops to these petty things.

It seems to me, if sure of this, Blent with each ill would come such bliss That I might covet pain, And deem whatever brought to me The loving thought of Deity, And sense of Christ's sweet sympathy, No loss, but richest gain.

Dear Lord, my heart hath not a doubt That thou dost compa.s.s me about With sympathy divine.

The love for me once crucified Is not a love to leave my side, But waiteth ever to divide Each smallest care of mine.

MOMENT BY MOMENT

Never a trial that He is not there; Never a burden that He doth not bear; Never a sorrow that He doth not share.

Moment by moment I'm under his care.

Never a heartache, and never a groan, Never a tear-drop, and never a moan, Never a danger but there, on the throne, Moment by moment, He thinks of his own.

Never a weakness that He doth not feel; Never a sickness that He cannot heal.

Moment by moment, in woe or in weal, Jesus, my Saviour, abides with me still.

--Daniel W. Whittle.

There's a divinity that shapes our ends Rough-hew them how we will.