629. C. M. Burder's Coll.

Rejoicing in Adversity.

1 What though no flowers the fig-tree clothe Though vines their fruit deny, The labor of the olive fail, And fields no meat supply;--

2 Though from the fold, with sad surprise, My flock cut off I see; Though famine reign in empty stalls, Where herds were wont to be;--

3 Yet in the Lord will I be glad, And glory in his love; In him I'll joy, who will the G.o.d Of my salvation prove.

4 G.o.d is the treasure of my soul, The source of lasting joy-- A joy which want shall not impair, Nor death itself destroy.

630. C. M. Anonymous.

"Blessed are they that mourn."

1 In trouble and in grief, O G.o.d, Thy smile hath cheered my way; And joy hath budded from each thorn That round my footsteps lay.

2 The hours of pain have yielded good, Which prosperous days refused; As herbs, though scentless when entire, Spread fragrance when they're bruised.

3 The oak strikes deeper as its boughs By furious blasts are driven; So life's vicissitudes the more Have fixed my heart in heaven.

4 All-gracious Lord! whate'er my lot In other times may be, I'll welcome still the heaviest grief, That brings me near to thee.

631. L. M. Bowring.

G.o.d Merciful in Affliction.

1 Mysterious are the ways of G.o.d, And fear and blindness oft repine; We murmur 'neath his chastening rod, Because we read not his design.

2 Impending clouds his love has spread O'er this low vale where mortals dwell; And oft we mourn his spirit fled, When adverse tempests round us swell.

3 But in those storms that sometimes roll, Our mortal dwellings dark above, Whose threatening shades dismay the soul, Dwells the bright presence of his love.

4 We cannot see him--not a ray Of all his glory there appears, And oft we thread our darkened way, Trembling with anxious doubts and fears.

5 Yet faith still looks beyond the gloom, While hope's bright star illumes our night; Pilgrims of earth! though dark the tomb, It leads to scenes of bliss and light.

632. C. M. Moore.

"He healeth the broken in heart, and bindeth up their wounds."

1 O Thou who driest the mourner's tear, How dark this world would be, If, when deceived and wounded here, We could not fly to thee!

2 But thou wilt heal that broken heart, Which like the plants that throw Their fragrance from the wounded part, Breathes sweetness out of woe.

3 When joy no longer soothes or cheers, And e'en the hope that threw A moment's sparkle o'er our tears Is dimmed and vanished too;

4 O, who would bear life's stormy doom, Did not thy wing of love Come, brightly wafting through the gloom Our peace-branch from above?

5 Then sorrow touched by thee grows bright, With more than rapture's ray; The darkness shows us worlds of light We never saw by day.

633. C. M. Drummond.

"G.o.d is our refuge and strength; a very present help in trouble."

1 Bereft of all, when hopeless care Would sink us to the tomb, O what can save us from despair?

What dissipate the gloom?

2 No balm that earthly plants distil Can soothe the mourner's smart; No mortal hand with lenient skill Bind up the broken heart.

3 But One alone, who reigns above, Our woe to peace can turn, And light the lamp of joy and love That long has ceased to burn.

4 Then, O my soul, to that One flee, To G.o.d thy woes reveal; His eye alone thy wounds can see, His hand alone can heal.

634. L. M. Montgomery.

The Same.

1 G.o.d is our refuge and defence, In trouble our unfailing aid; Secure in his omnipotence, What foe can make our soul afraid?

2 Yea, though the earth's foundations rock, And mountains down the gulf be hurled, His people smile amid the shock, They look beyond this transient world.

3 There is a river pure and bright, Whose streams make glad the heavenly plains, Where, in eternity of light, The city of our G.o.d remains.

4 Built by the word of his command, With his unclouded presence blessed, Firm as his throne the bulwarks stand; There is our home, our hope, our rest.