Even this grief thou mayst bring to thy Saviour, Cast upon him this burden of care!

Bring all thy hardness--His power can subdue it, How full is the promise! The blessing how free: "Whatsoever ye ask in my name, I will do it; Abide in my love and be joyful in me."

THY LOVING KINDNESS

Not always the path is easy; There are thickets hung with gloom, There are rough and stony places Where never the roses bloom.

But oft, when the way is hardest, I am conscious of One at my side Whose hands and whose feet are wounded, And I'm happy and safe with my Guide.

Better than friends and kindred, Better than love and rest, Dearer than hope and triumph, Is the name I wear on my breast.

I feel my way through the shadows With a confident heart and brave; I shall live in the light beyond them; I shall conquer death and the grave.

Often when tried and tempted, Often, ashamed of sin-- That, strong as an armed invader, Has made wreck of the peace within-- That wonderful loving-kindness, Patient and full and free, Has stooped for my consolation; Has brought a blessing to me.

Therefore my lips shall praise thee, Therefore, let come what may, To the height of a solemn gladness My song shall arise to-day.

Not on the drooping willow Shall I hang my harp in the land, When the Lord himself has cheered me By the touch of his pierced hand.

--Margaret Elizabeth Sangster.

To try each day his will to know; To tread the way his will may show; To live for him who gave me life; To strive for him who suffered strife And sacrifice through death for me-- Let this my joy, my portion be.

THANKS

I thank thee, Lord, for mine unanswered prayers, Unanswered save thy quiet, kindly "Nay"; Yet it seemed hard among my heavy cares-- That bitter day.

I wanted joy; but Thou didst know for me That sorrow was the gift I needed most, And in its mystic depths I learned to see The Holy Ghost.

I wanted health; but thou didst bid me sound The secret treasuries of pain, And in the moans and groans my heart oft found Thy Christ again.

I wanted wealth; 'twas not the better part; There is a wealth with poverty oft given.

And thou didst teach me of the gold of heart-- Best gift of heaven.

I thank thee, Lord, for these unanswered prayers, And for thy word, the quiet, kindly "Nay."

'Twas thy withholding lightened all my cares That blessed day.

--Oliver Huckel.

THE GLORIOUS MORN

Open the shutters free and wide.

And "glorify the room"; That no dark shadows here may bide-- That there be naught of gloom.

What joy to breathe the morning air, And see the sun again; With living things G.o.d's love to share, In recompense for pain.

--Henry Coyle.

For all the evils under the sun There is some remedy or none; If there is one be sure to find it; If there is none, why, never mind it.

EVENING PRAISE

Again, O G.o.d, the night shuts down, Again I kneel to praise!

Thy wisdom, love, and truth and power Have long made glad my days.

And, now, with added grat.i.tude, An evening hymn I raise.

I take the att.i.tude of prayer, But not for gifts to plead; Thy bounty, far beyond desert, Has more than met my need; So, well content, I worship Thee In thought and word and deed.

Thou bidst me ask, if I'd receive, And seek, if I would find; But surely Thou wilt not condemn A heart to trust inclined.

Give what is best; Thou knowest all.

How blest the quiet mind!

I praise thee that in all the hours And moments, as they glide, Thy providence enfoldeth close; Thy blessings rich abide; And Thou dost keep in perfect peace Those who in thee confide.

I praise thee for what seemeth good, And for what seemeth ill.

Appearances are vain deceits; Above them stands thy will; By faith, not sight, thy children walk, In hottest fire hold still.

Accept the off'ring that I lay In gladness at thy feet; My heart o'erflows with keenest joy, With ecstacy complete.

Because, in all vicissitudes, Thy constancy I greet.

Thou wilt not cease to love me well, Nor fail to hold me fast; Though pain may come, it cannot harm; My care on thee is cast, For future good he'll surely send Who sent so sweet a past.

Praise waits in Zion, Lord, for thee, Praise runs the world around; And so this little heart of mine Shall ne'er in gloom be found, Rejoicing that all days and nights May with thy praise resound.

--James Mudge.

GO TELL JESUS

Bury thy sorrow, The world has its share; Bury it deeply, Hide it with care.

Think of it calmly When curtained by night; Tell it to Jesus, And all will be right.

Tell it to Jesus, He knoweth thy grief; Tell it to Jesus, He'll send thee relief.

Gather the sunlight Aglow on thy way; Gather the moonbeams, Each soft silver ray.

Hearts grown aweary With heavier woe, Droop 'mid the darkness-- Go comfort them, go!

Bury thy sorrow, Let others be blest; Give them the sunshine, Tell Jesus the rest.

WE WILL PRAISE THEE

Great Jehovah! we will praise thee, Earth and heaven thy will obey; Suns and systems move obedient To thy universal sway.