Chapter 7

And never from my tongue a word Escapes, by Thee, O Lord, unheard; Thou order'st all I speak or do, And guidest me life's journey through.

'Tis true, I know, but must remain A knowledge I can ne'er attain, A mystery beyond the ken Of feeble and short-sighted men.

Where shall I from Thy Spirit fly, Escape from Thine omniscient eye? Where shall I from Thy presence hide, And where remote from Thee abide?

If I ascend the utmost height Of heav'n, there art Thou, thron'd in light; Or should I down to hell repair And make my bed, I'd find Thee there.

Should I on morning's pinions ride, As far as ocean's empire wide Of stormy waves breaks on the land, I'd be upheld by Thy right hand.

Or if the help of night I sought, No change by darkness would be wrought, For let the night be as it may, With Thee is ever cloudless day.

'Mid darkest shadows Thou canst see, The darkness is a light to Thee, Thy glance is ever clear and bright, From sun and moon Thou need'st no light.

My reins Thou ever hast possess'd, For in Thy hand they ever rest, From infancy Thou hast me led, With daily blessings crown'd my head.

Thou hast, who'rt greatly to be fear'd, My frame with cunning hand uprear'd; Thy works, Thy wondrous pow'r forth tell, And that my soul doth know right well.

My substance was not hid from Thee, When I in secret curiously Was fashion'd in the depths of earth, From whence Thy pow'r hath brought me forth.

Before my time, my times for me Determin'd were by Thy decree, The tale of years and days I'd see, Hours, moments, all were fix'd by Thee.

My God, how precious, sweet, and fair, I see array'd before me there The thoughts of wisdom of Thy heart, In all Thy bounty doth impart.

The sum of these so high doth mount, That when their number I would count, I find them infinitely more Than dust or sand, on field or shore.

How doth the bold blaspheming band Thee vilify on every hand, O God of wonders! and Thy name Despise and treat with open shame.

Their scornful mouths, Lord, close and seal, Against them speedily reveal Thy wrath! against Thy foes arise, Thy foes are hateful in mine eyes.

Though in return, their hatred sore Against Thee burn, I do no more Amid the rage of angry foes, Than 'neath Thy shelt'ring wings repose.

Lord, search and know my heart and mood, See if my way be right and good, The everlasting joyful road Lead me that brings me home to God.

Songs of the Cross and Consolation.

UNDER THE TRIALS OF THIS LIFE.

Full often as I meditate Upon the world's disorder'd state, I ask myself if earthly life Be good, and worthy of the strife, Has he not acted for the best Who laid himself betimes to rest?

Reflect, my friend, say, if you know What station is there here below Without its fall and daily share Of sorrow, pain, and anxious care? And tell me if a place there be From sorrow, tears, vexation free.

And doth not every passing day, From youth to manhood, bear away Its own peculiar load of grief Upon its back, and such relief As transient joy may seem to bring, Is it not full of suffering?

If times be good, and fortune smile, My God! how envy storms the while; If dignity and honours great Attend thy steps, alas! their weight. If others thou'rt preferr'd before, Than others too thou'rt burden'd more.

Art thou to-day in joyous mood, Rejoicing in thy share of good? Lo! ere thou think'st, thy gains are gone, Thy joyous mood with them is flown, The hurricane so suddenly Doth sweep away thy property.

Dost from the world withdraw thyself, And lov'st God more than gold or pelf? Thy crown, thy jewel, thy good name Is cover'd by the world with shame. For he who can't dissembler play, The world as fool will spurn away.

'Tis true, alas! that trouble waits In daily watch before our gates; On earth the cross is borne by all, All feel its weight, and taste its gall; But shall we therefore cast away The Christian's light? I tell thee--nay.

The saints, who to their Saviour cleave, In faith and in the Spirit live, Unhurt by any ill or woe Pass through their pilgrimage below; Though things may sometimes fall out ill Yet with them it is ever well.

Though they no gold have stor'd away, They've God, and care not what men say, Reject with joy, and aye despise The world's vain pomp and vanities; Their honour is to hope and wait, From God alone comes all their state.

The Christian, God as Father knows, Can in His faithfulness repose; Whatever trial God may send, Can't separate him from his friend; The more He smites, he loves the more, Remaineth true, though chasten'd sore.

He only plays a hero's part Who cherishes within his heart The Saviour's love; whate'er betide, Firm as a rock shall he abide When heav'n and earth shall pass away; Though men forsake, God's word's his stay.

The word of God beguiles our fears, And turns to smiles our bitter tears; It robs misfortune of the pow'r Of hurting in the evil hour; It brings the sadden'd heart relief, When bow'd beneath the load of grief.

Now cease, I pray, your tale of woe: Though full of grief this life below, Still falleth to the Christian's share Salvation and God's guardian care; Who loves the Saviour, trusts in God, Remains unmov'd beneath the rod.

As gold into the fire is cast, And comes forth purified at last, So saints supported by God's grace Uninjur'd through affliction pass; A child his father's child is still, Although his father's rod he feel.

Dear heart, chase all thy fears away, On thy God's faithfulness now stay, Though smiting with His chast'ning rod, He means it well, 'tis for thy good; Confide in Him, His guiding hand Will bring thee to the better land.

Live on according to His will, Although the way be rough, be still! In heav'n Thou hast a mansion fair, Where joy will banish every care; If here we to the Saviour cleave, With Jesu's angels shall we live.

THOU ART BUT MAN!

Thou art but man, to thee 'tis known, Why dost thou then endeavour To do what God should do alone, Or can accomplish ever? A thousand griefs thou goest through, In spite of all thy wit can do; Upon thine end thou pond'rest, What it will be thou wond'rest.

'Tis all in vain, in vain thy care, With all thy musings earnest, In all thy life a single hair Thou white or black ne'er turnest. The griefs by which thou'rt sore distress'd Can only serve to mar thy rest, Cause anguish unavailing, Thy life itself curtailing.

Wilt thou do what is for thy good, And what thy God good seeth? Then cast on Him each heavy load, 'Fore whom earth and heav'n fleeth. Thy life and labour, all that's thine, With joy into God's hand resign; A happy end He'll ever Give thee, and thee deliver.

Who car'd for thee ere light of day Had dawn'd upon thy vision, While in the womb thy soul still lay As in a gloomy prison? Who thought upon thy welfare then? What good did all the might of men Do, when to thee were given Life, mind, and pow'r from heaven?

Whose skill was it that fashion'd thee? And who thy frame uprearèd? To glad our eyes, by whose decree, Say, hath the light appearèd? Who hath thy veins in order laid, For each a course convenient made? Who hath thy frame replenish'd With members fair and finish'd?

Where were thy mind and will and heart When land and ocean over, Yea, even earth's remotest part, The sky was spread to cover? Who made the sun and moon to shine, Who gave herbs, trees, and beasts as thine, Who bid them satisfy thee, And no desire deny thee?

Lift up thy head, see everywhere, Above, around, below thee, How God in all for thee His care, And at all times, doth show thee! Thy meat and drink, the clothes dost wear, Did God, ere need thou felt'st, prepare. God, ere thou wast, prepar'd thee Thy mother's milk, that rear'd thee.

The raiment that in infancy Thy nakedness did cover, The cradle that receivèd thee, The roof thy young head over, Were all in love prepar'd for thee, Ere yet thine eye was op'd to see The wonders that abounded, The world that thee surrounded.

Yet wilt thou walk by thine own light Thy life long, only heeding, Believing nothing but thy sight, Go whither it is leading. In all that thou dost undertake, Thy heart thy counsellor dost make, Unless by it selected, Is ev'ry plan rejected.

Behold! how oft and openly God's providence undoeth The plans thy hand so ardently And hopefully pursueth. But it doth happen frequently, That e'en the very things we see The wisest men could never Predict, or think of ever.

How oft thy stiff-neck'd self-will hath To bitter need reduc'd thee! When heart and mind deluded, death To take for life, seduc'd thee! And had the Lord thy work and deed Along the path allow'd proceed That thou thyself had'st taken, Lost wert thou and forsaken.

He who to us love endless feels, When self-involv'd, then frees us, Ev'n self-inflicted wounds He heals, Guides when astray He sees us. Paternal kindness, tender love, To these His heart doth ever move, This love poor sinners beareth, For whom as sons He careth.

Ah! silence doth He often keep, But still the while He blesses, E'en though we tears of anguish weep, Though grief the heart depresses, Although our eager eyes we strain, And seek for light, but seek in vain, And seek deliv'rance ever From woe, but find it never.

But God our Lord still onward straight His path pursueth ever, And brings us to heav'n's peaceful gate, Where storms assail us never. What dark was and mysterious here In all God's ways, shall be then clear, His wisdom we'll discover When our life-work is over.

Then peace, be still, my troubled breast! And let no grief distress thee, God ever plans for thee the best, His heart is set to bless thee. Thy cause the Saviour ne'er can leave, In this assuredly believe, Tow'rd us He ever yearneth, His ardent love aye burneth.

With grace and truth His loving heart For evermore is glowing, And keenly feeleth He the smart, When from our eyes are flowing Hot tears, caus'd by vain sorrow's load, As if in wrath and hate our God Could ever helpless leave us, Would never comfort give us!

The evil thought, ah! put away, No more may it deceive thee, Although what happ'neth, seldom may Increase of pleasure give thee. But that will happen certainly Which God thy Father doth decree; From what He wills to send thee, No mortal can defend thee.

Then to thy Father's arms of love In confidence betake thee, Pray on till His compassion move, His special care He make thee! Then by His Spirit will He guide, Through unknown paths still at thy side, From all thy woe and striving At last deliv'rance giving.

CHRISTIAN CONTENTMENT.

O my soul, why dost thou grieve, Why dost mourn so bitterly, That more freely God doth give Gifts to others than to thee? In thy God delight thy heart, He's the good enduring part.

Of the human race have none In this world to be a right, All, yea each created one, But a guest is for a night. God in His house Lord is still, Gifts divideth as He will.

Know, thou art not therefore here, That thou should'st possess the earth; Look thou up to heav'n so clear, There's thy gold of priceless worth, There is honour, there is joy, Without envy or alloy!

Great the folly his who grieves For a little vanity, When God to him freely gives Treasures of eternity. Is the handredweight thy gain? Thou canst then despise the grain.

All thy fair possessions see, That are valued by thy heart, None of them can go with thee When from earth thou must depart. Thou must leave them here below, When death's door thou passest through.

The soul's nourishment, God's grace, And the Saviour's precious blood, Ne'er through time in worth decrease, But remain for ever good. Earthly goods must pass away, Soul-goods never can decay.

Still art thou so blind, alas! Thinking--but all erringly, Eyes hast thou, but in the glass Of the word thou dost not see. Child of man! fix there thine eyes, For it is a peerless prize.

Count thy fingers every one, And thine other members o'er, They are precious, they're thine own, Lov'd by thee than treasure more, Gold could never from thee buy E'en the least, though men should try.

Search and ask thine inmost heart, 'Twill instruct thee what of good Daily falleth to thy part, By God's bounteous hand bestow'd; Than the sand upon the shore More, and yet desir'st thou more!

Did thy Heav'nly Father see That it would be for thy good, What desires so eagerly Thy misguided flesh and blood, He would ne'er thee joyless leave, But would of His bounty give.

God to thee is full of love, Faithful and sincere is He, When thou wishest aught, He'd prove Of what kind thy wish may be: If 'tis good, He will bestow, If 'tis ill, He'll answer--no.

Meanwhile doth His Spirit give Manna to thy fainting heart, Food by which the angels live, Grace to deck thee doth impart, For His portion chooseth thee, Thou shalt share salvation free.

Look then to thy God above, Sad and troubled countenance! Cease to sigh, faith's virtue prove, By thy clear and joyous glance! While thy sky is overcast By affliction, hold it fast!

And as Heav'n's adopted son, Thy rebellious will restrain; Touch thy harp, let 'fore God's throne Grateful songs resound again. More at all times doth God give Than thou'rt worthy to receive.

Live thou ever in God's fear, As thou journeyest to heav'n, Take whate'er befalls thee here As a gift in wisdom giv'n. Are they evil days, thou'lt see God and Heav'n endure for thee.

UNDER THE VEXATIONS OF THE WICKED PROSPEROUS WORLD.

Ah! lovely innocence, how evil art thou deem'd, How lightly oft thy work by all the world's esteem'd! Thou servest God, thy Lord, and to His word thou cleavest; For this, from men thou nought but scorn and hate receivest.

Right on thy road thou go'st, flee'st from the crooked way; Another steppeth in and bears the prize away, Increaseth his small store, his chests and barns he filleth; Thou'rt poor with all thy house, scarce earn'st what hunger stilleth.

The wicked one thou chid'st, who walks not righteously, Another practiseth a sweet hypocrisy That love and praise secures, and him on high upraises, While in the lurch the world thee leaves, and much abases.

Thou say'st that virtue is the Christian's fairest crown, But reputation doth the world lay stress upon; He who will this secure, it saith, must ever labour To suit the times, and live and act just like his neighbour.

Thou boast'st thyself in God, thy tongue doth aye commend The blessing God doth as His children's portion send: "If this be then the case," the world says, "come and show it, The happy fortune thou hast had, we'd see and know it."

Stand firm, thou pious heart, stand firm, thy faith retain! 'Mid disappointment sore thy God will true remain, Commit thy ways to Him, let Him protect and guide thee, Thou'lt triumph at the last o'er evils that betide thee.

Dost fail to please thy kind?--It is a sad disgrace! Enough, if on thee smile thy heav'nly Father's face. The worst that man can do is to betray and leave thee; But God is righteous, and His judgment can't deceive thee.

Doth He say, "Thou art Mine, thy way doth please Me well?" Then be thy heart consol'd, let joy thy bosom swell, Cast to the wind the lies by wicked men indited, Be still, and thou shalt see, by God shall all be righted.

Pride, arrogance, and pomp are ne'er enduring found, Like brightest glass they fall, and break upon the ground; So when the luck of men has mounted up to heaven, It soon comes crashing down, and on the earth lies riven.

And all ill-gotten wealth, when right our estimate, Is on the heart and mind a dead oppressive weight That burdens evermore, with pain the conscience wringeth, Its quiet rest disturbs, and into trouble bringeth.

And what have many more than of the poor the sweat? What do they eat and drink, and what gain do they get? They rob the widows' store, spite of their tears them wronging, Who like a thirsty land for sympathy are longing.

Is this felicity? is this magnificence? Oh! what a sentence dire will God the Judge pronounce Upon the day of doom, when from His throne so loudly It sounds, how shall they seem who strut and boast so proudly!

But thou who now thy God dost honour with whole heart, And never from His ways dost let thy feet depart, Shalt in the goodly throng, whom God with manna feedeth, With praise and honour clad, walk with Him where he leadeth.

In patience, then, possess thy soul a little while, Do right, and persevere and live all free from guile, Act that the fairest prize in yonder life be given Thee, from His gracious hand who rules in earth and heaven.

Whate'er on earth betide, from care remain all free, 'Twill fall out for thy good, as God the best may see; Rest thou assur'd, He will no wish of thine deny thee, With joy fulfil thy will, with every good supply thee.

"I WILL ENDURE THE INDIGNATION OF THE LORD."--MICAH VII.

I have deserv'd it, cease t' oppose The Lord's will, shall I never? Thou bitter cup, thou heavy cross, Come hither to me ever! From pain all free May never be He 'gainst the Lord who fighteth, As I each day, Who trod the way Wherein the world delighteth.

I'll bear the chastisement of God, A patient soul possessing, For born in sin, sin's path I trod, Aye ventur'd on transgressing, That pleasures vain I might attain, In wantonness time wasting, The gracious word Of God the Lord, As I ought, never tasting.

The road of God's commandments good I often have forsaken, And on the way that leads from God Am therefore overtaken By grief and smart, That pierce my heart; God's hand thus am I feeling, Who 'fore His throne To each his own Awards, in justice dealing.

For just and true is God above, We fail His goodness telling, A mother's truth, a father's love Alike in him are dwelling. God's wrath, I ween, As oft hath been Ours, is not unrelenting. Men steel their heart, Refuse t' impart Grace e'en to the repenting.

In sooth 'tis not the mind of God, His anger ever endeth, Return we, He removes the rod, And to the weary sendeth A sweet release, To mark doth cease, And visit our transgressing; His wrath He turns, And tow'rd us yearns, Gives after cursing blessing.

And so the Lord will deal with me, And every one behold it, And vindicate the right will He, My cause, He will uphold it. Thy face so bright, Lord! to the light, From deepest pit will raise me, That ever I May heartily Thy truth exalt, and praise Thee.

Rejoice not o'er me, then, my foes, I lie not here for ever, My God will come ere ye suppose, And speedily deliver. His holy hand Will make me stand, Firm and secure for ever; Good times to me And joy will He Give after stormy weather.

I am in need, yet scarce can speak Of real need and sorrow; When God my Light is, day must break And bring a glorious morrow, E'en in the night, While yet the might Of darkness much increaseth, And when this Light Dawns on my sight, Whate'er oppresses ceaseth.

The time will come, e'en now 'tis near, When I shall sing salvation, When he who lov'd to mock and jeer At me in tribulation, And bid me tell Where God doth dwell, Shall from God's face be driven With head cast down; To me a crown Of honour shall be given!

FOR PATIENCE IN GREAT SORROW.

Ah! faithful God, compass'nate heart, Whose goodness never endeth, I know this bitter cross and smart Thy hand it is that sendeth! Yea, Lord, I know this burden great Thou sendest not in wrath and hate, But 'tis in love appointed.

That ever is Thy way all-wise, Thy child in woe must languish, Thou whom Thou lovest, dost chastise, 'Fore joy Thou sendest anguish, Sink'st us to hell, in woe we lie, And raisest us again on high, Thus with us fares it always.

Thou ever leadest wondrously Thy children dear who please Thee! Would I have life? Then first must I E'en down to death abase me. In honour who'd be raised on high, He self-abas'd on earth must lie As worthless dust and ashes.

On earth, Lord, Thy belovèd Son Such sorrow had to try Him; Ere He could reach His glorious throne Ill men must crucify Him. He pass'd through trouble, need, and woe, Nor shrunk He from death's cruel blow, To reach the joys of heaven.

Did then Thy good and holy Son Himself for us deliver, And I enslavèd, sinful one, Shall I resist Thee ever? Of patience aye the glass is He, And who His face desires to see Must in His footsteps follow.

How is it reason finds it hard, The truth so oft rejecteth, That Thou with favour dost regard E'en while Thy hand afflicteth? How long doth oft the cross remain, How hardly can we love and pain Then reconcile together.

God of the Church! when fails my pow'r, Strength graciously then give me; And grant that nought in trial's hour Of faith may e'er deprive me. Uphold me by Thy might, O Lord, Establish me then in Thy word, From murmuring deliver!

When I am weak, be Thou my stay, In faithfulness be near me, That I continually may pray, And call on Thee to hear me. While yet a heart hopes and believes, And still in pray'r unceasing lives, Bold is it, and unvanquish'd.

In measure, Lord, apply the rod, Lest I sink altogether; Thou know'st how I can bear the load, How life's imperill'd ever, For neither steel nor stone am I, But sooner pass away and die, E'en than a fleeting vapour.

Ah! Jesus, who did'st stoop so low, Thy blood shed, life that giveth, The bitter cross full well dost know, And how the spirit grieveth When cross and heavy woe combine, So wilt Thou hear each cry of mine, When bitterly complaining.