Poems with Power to Strengthen the Soul Part 93

To the voices of hope that are calling you Open the door of your heart.

--Edward Everett Hale.

A little bit of hope Makes a rainy day look gay; A little bit of charity Makes glad a weary way!

Hope, child, to-morrow, and to-morrow still, And every morrow hope; trust while you live.

Hope! each time the dawn doth heaven fill, Be there to ask as G.o.d is there to give.

--Victor Hugo.

FAITH

a.s.sURANCE, DOUBT, UNBELIEF

THE ETERNAL GOODNESS

I bow my forehead to the dust, I veil mine eyes for shame, And urge, in trembling self-distrust, A prayer without a claim.

No offering of mine own I have, Nor works my faith to prove; I can but give the gifts he gave, And plead his love for love.

I dimly guess, from blessings known, Of greater out of sight; And, with the chastened psalmist, own His judgments too are right.

And if my heart and flesh are weak To bear an untried pain, The bruised reed he will not break, But strengthen and sustain.

I know not what the future hath Of marvel or surprise, a.s.sured alone that life and death His mercy underlies.

And so beside the silent sea I wait the m.u.f.fled oar; No harm from him can come to me On ocean or on sh.o.r.e.

I know not where his islands lift Their fronded palms in air; I only know I cannot drift Beyond his love and care.

And thou, O Lord, by whom are seen Thy creatures as they be, Forgive me if too close I lean My human heart on thee.

--John Greenleaf Whittier.

Forgive us, Lord, our little faith; And help us all, from morn till e'en, Still to believe that lot the best Which is, not that which might have been.

And grant we may so pa.s.s the days The cradle and the grave between, That death's dark hour not darker be For thoughts of what life might have been.

THE ONE THING NEEDFUL

My prayer to the promise shall cling-- I will not give heed to a doubt; For I ask for the one needful thing Which I cannot be happy without:

A spirit of lowly repose In the love of the Lamb that was slain; A heart to be touched with his woes, And a care not to grieve him again;

The peace that my Saviour has bought, The cheerfulness nothing can dim, The love that can bring every thought Into perfect obedience to him;

The wisdom his mercy to own In the way he directs me to take-- To glory in Jesus alone, And to love and do good for his sake.

All this thou hast offered to me In the promise whereon I will rest; For faith, O my Saviour! in thee, Is the substance of all my request.

Thy word has commanded my prayer, Thy Spirit has taught me to pray; And all my unholy despair Is ready to vanish away.

Thou wilt not be weary of me; Thy promise my faith shall sustain; And soon, very soon, shall I see I have not been asking in vain.

--Anna Let.i.tia Waring.

Ah, G.o.d! I have not had thee day and night In thought, nor magnified thy name aright, Nor lauded thee, nor glorified, nor laid Upon thine altars one poor kusa-blade!

Yet now, when I seek refuge, Lord! with thee, I ask, and thou wilt give, all good to me.

--Edwin Arnold, from the Sanskrit.

ABOVE ALL, THE s.h.i.+ELD

Faith fails; Then in the dust Lie failing rest and light and trust.

So doth the troubled soul itself distress, And choke the fountain in the wilderness.

I care not what your peace a.s.sails!

The deep root is, faith fails.

Faith fails When in the breast The Lord's sweet presence doth not rest; For who believes, clouds cannot make afraid; He knows the sun doth s.h.i.+ne behind the shade; He rides at anchor through the gales.

Do you not so? Faith fails.

Faith fails; Its foes alarm, And persecution's threats disarm; False friends can scarcely wish it a good day, Before it taketh fright and shrinks away.

When G.o.d doth guard, what foe prevails?

Why then the fear? Faith fails.

Faith fails; Else cares would die, And we should on G.o.d's care rely.

Man for the coming day doth grieve and fret, And all past days doth sinfully forget.

For every beast G.o.d's care avails; Why not for us? Faith fails.

Faith fails; Then cometh fear, If sickness comes, if death is near.

O man, why is it, when the times are bad And the days evil, that thy face is sad?

How is it that thy courage quails?

It must be this: Faith fails.

My G.o.d!

Let my faith be Living, and working actively With hope and joy, that death may not surprise.

So let them sweetly close my eyes; The Christian's life to death may yield-- Hope stands; faith has the field.

--S. C. Schoener.

LOOKING UNTO G.o.d