--Anna Let.i.tia Waring.

TWO PICTURES

An old farm house with meadows wide, And sweet with clover on each side; A bright-eyed boy, who looks from out The door with woodbine wreathed about, And wishes his one thought all day: "O if I could but fly away!

From this dull spot the world to see, How happy, happy, happy, How happy I should be!"

Amid the city's constant din, A man who round the world has been, Who, 'mid the tumult and the throng, Is thinking, thinking all day long: "O could I only tread once more The field-path to the farm-house door, The old green meadow could I see, How happy, happy, happy, How happy I should be!"

--Annie Douglas Robinson.

Happy the man, of mortals happiest he, Whose quiet mind from vain desires is free; Whom neither hopes deceive nor fears torment, But lives in peace, within himself content; In thought, or act, accountable to none But to himself, and unto G.o.d alone.

--Henry P. F. Lansdowne.

CONTENT I LIVE

My mind to me a kingdom is; Such perfect joy therein I find As far exceeds all earthly bliss That G.o.d or nature hath a.s.signed: Though much I want that most would have, Yet still my mind forbids to crave.

Content I live; this is my stay-- I seek no more than may suffice.

I press to bear no haughty sway; Look, what I lack my mind supplies.

Lo, thus I triumph like a king, Content with what my mind doth bring.

I laugh not at another's loss, I grudge not at another's gain; No worldly wave my mind can toss; I brook that as another's bane.

I fear no foe, nor fawn on friend.

I loathe not life, nor dread mine end.

My wealth is health and perfect ease; My conscience clear my chief defense; I never seek by bribes to please Nor by desert to give offense.

Thus do I live, thus will I die; Would all did so, as well as I.

--Edward Dyer. Alt. by William Byrd (1540-1625).

JUST AS G.o.d LEADS

Just as G.o.d leads me I would go; I would not ask to choose my way; Content with what he will bestow, a.s.sured he will not let me stray.

So, as he leads, my path I make, And step by step I gladly take-- A child, in him confiding.

Just as G.o.d leads I am content; I rest me calmly in his hands; That which he has decreed and sent-- That which his will for me commands-- I would that he should all fulfill, That I should do his gracious will In living or in dying.

Just as G.o.d leads, I all resign; I trust me to my Father's will; When reason's rays deceptive shine, His counsel would I yet fulfill; That which his love ordained as right Before he brought me to the right My all to him resigning.

Just as G.o.d leads me, I abide In faith, in hope, in suffering true; His strength is ever by my side-- Can aught my hold on him undo?

I hold me firm in patience, knowing That G.o.d my life is still bestowing-- The best in kindness sending.

Just as G.o.d leads I onward go, Out amid thorns and briers keen; G.o.d does not yet his guidance show-- But in the end it shall be seen.

How, by a loving Father's will, Faithful and true, he leads me still.

And so my heart is resting.

--From the German.

SWEET CONTENT

O Thou, by long experience tried, Near whom no grief can long abide; My Lord, how full of sweet content I pa.s.s my years of banishment!

All scenes alike engaging prove To souls impressed with sacred love!

Where'er they dwell they dwell in Thee In heaven, in earth, or on the sea.

To me remains nor place nor time, My country is in every clime; I can be calm and free from care On any sh.o.r.e, since G.o.d is there.

While place we seek, or place we shun, The soul finds happiness in none; But with a G.o.d to guide our way 'Tis equal joy to go or stay.

Could I be cast where Thou art not, That were indeed a dreadful lot; But regions none remote I call, Secure of finding G.o.d in all.

--Madame Guyon.

CONTENT AND RICH

My conscience is my crown, Contented thoughts my rest; My heart is happy in itself, My bliss is in my breast.

Enough I reckon wealth; A mean, the surest lot; That lies too high for base contempt, Too low for envy's shot.

My wishes are but few, All easy to fulfill; I make the limits of my power The bounds unto my will.

I feel no care of coin; Well doing is my wealth; My mind to me an empire is, While grace affordeth health.

I clip high-climbing thoughts, The wings of swelling pride; Their fall is worst that from the height Of greatest honor slide.

Since sails of largest size The storm doth soonest tear, I bear so low and small a sail As freeth me from fear.

I wrestle not with rage While fury's flame doth burn; It is in vain to stop the stream Until the tide doth turn.

But when the flame is out, And ebbing wrath doth end, I turn a late enraged foe Into a quiet friend.

And, taught with often proof, A tempered calm I find To be most solace to itself, Best cure for angry mind.

No change of fortune's calms Can cast my comforts down; When Fortune smiles I smile to think How quickly she will frown.

And when in froward mood She proves an angry foe, Small gain I found to let her come, Less loss to let her go.

--Robert Southwell, 1561-95. (One of the Jesuit Fathers who were cruelly executed by Queen Elizabeth.)

Don't lose Courage! Spirit brave Carry with you to the grave.