"MY TIMES ARE IN THY HAND."

My times are in thy hand, my G.o.d!

And I rejoice that they are so; My times are in thy hand, my G.o.d, Whether it be for weal or woe.

My times are in thy hand, I know; And if I'm washed in Jesus' blood, Though dark my pathway here below, It leads directly up to G.o.d.

Since all thy children chastening need, And all _so called_ must feel the rod, Why for exemption should I plead, For am I not thy child, my G.o.d?

Ah why go mourning all the day, Or why should I from trials shrink?

Though much of sorrow's in my cup, The cup that I am called to drink.

'Tis needful medicine I know, By the most skilful hand prepared, Strictly proportioned to my wants, There's _not a drop_ that can be spared.

Then why desponding, oh my soul, Because of trials here below?

They're all appointed by my G.o.d, My times are in thy hand, I know.

Jan. 18, 1863.

NOVEMBER.

Remember the poor, in the dark chilly day, When November's loud winds are fierce blowing; Remember the poor, at thy plentiful board, When the fire on thy bright hearth is glowing.

Remember the poor in yon damp dismal shed, Without food, fire, or clothing to warm them; And not like the Priest or the Levite pa.s.s by, But Samaritan like stop and cheer them.

Remember the slave, the poor down trodden slave, And do all in thy power to relieve him; And when from oppression he strives to be free, Do thou open thy gate to receive him.

For what saith the Lord is thy duty to such, "To his master thou shalt not return him,"[3]

But give him a home near thy own if he likes, And be sure not to vex or oppress him.

When parents or children or brethren you meet, In our happy New England and free, Then remember the slave, the heart broken slave, For thy brother, _thy brother_ is he.

Remember him also when prayer for thyself, In affliction's dark hour doth ascend; And when crying to G.o.d the father of all, Let _his_ wants with _thine own_ kindly blend.

And at the last day, when the rich and the poor Shall alike by the _Judge_ be regarded; When master and slave shall appear before G.o.d, And a sentence impartial awarded,--

The cup of cold water He will not forget, But with other good acts bring to mind; "When naked ye clothed me, when hungry ye fed,"

Will be uttered in accents most kind.

But when, blessed Saviour, ah when was the time, That we fed, clothed, or visited thee?

"Such acts," He replies, "to my poor brethren done, I consider as done unto me."

Nov. 1862.

[3] See Deuteronomy, 23:15, 16.

WINTER.

His thundering car Is heard from afar, And his trumpet notes sound All the country around; Stop your ears as you will, That loud blast and shrill Is heard by you still.

Borne along by the gale, In his frost coat of mail, Midst snow, sleet, and hail, He comes without fail, And drives all before him, Though men beg and implore him Just to let them take breath, Or he'll drive them to death.

But he comes in great state, And for none will he wait, Though he sees their distress Yet he spares them no less, For the cold stiff limb Is nothing to him; And o'er countless blue noses, His hard heart he closes.

His own children fear him And dare not come near him; E'en his favorite child[4]

Has been known to run wild At his too near approach, Her fear of him such, And to shriek and to howl And return scowl for scowl.

Indeed few dare him face, And _all_ shun his embrace; For though pleasant his smile, Yet one thinks all the while Of that terrible frown, Which the hardiest clown, Though a stout hearted man, Will avoid if he can.

And though many maintain That he gives needless pain, I confess I admire This venerable sire.

True his language is harsh, And his conduct oft rash, And we know well enough, That his manners are rough; Yet still in the main, We've no right to complain, For if we prepare for him, And show that we care for him, We may in him find A true friend and kind.

With us he will stay Three months to a day, So let us prepare The snug elbow chair, Which placed by the fire For the h.o.a.ry-head sire, May comfort impart And cheer his old heart.

Though he seems so unkind, Yet always you'll find That his cold heart will warm, And he'll do you no harm If your _own_ can but _feel_ For your poor neighbor's weal; And with pity o'erflowing, Your free alms bestowing, Never closing your door On the suffering poor; But clothe, feed, and warm them, And see that none harm them.

_E'en to others just do_ As you'd wish them by you.

Let's adopt but this plan, To do good when we can, And the dark stormy day Will full quick pa.s.s away, And we never complain Of cold weather again, Or of tedious long hours, That are spent within doors; For when winter winds blow, And we're hedged up by snow, We shall find full employment, And lack no enjoyment.

Thus prepared, let him come, He will find us at home; Bring wind, hail, or snow, Blow high, or blow low, We're prepared for him now.

Then come winter, come, You'll find us at home.

Nov. 5, 1852.

[4] Spring.

There is within this heart of mine, An aching void earth ne'er can fill; I've tried its joys, its friendships proved, But felt that aching void there _still_.

Thy love alone, my Saviour G.o.d, True satisfaction can impart; Can fill this aching void I feel, And give contentment to my heart.

Oh! cheer me by thy presence, Lord, Increase my faith an hundred fold; Be _thy name_ on my forehead found, _Mine_ in thy book of life enrolled.

Dec. 19, 1862.

Forever closed that dark blue eye, Full and expressive, pensive too; Thy light brown hair, and face so fair, And graceful form are hid from view.