While in the faith that makes no haste

My soul has time to see

A kneeling host of Thy redeemed,

In fellowship with me.

There is a multitude around

Responsive to my prayer :
I hear the voice of my desire
Resounding everywhere.
But the earnest of eternal joy
In every prayer I trace;
I see the glory of the Lord
On every chastened face.
How oft, in still communion known,
Those spirits have been sent
To share the travail of my soul,

Or show me what it meant !

And I long to do some work of love
No spoiling hand could touch,

For the poor and suffering of Thy flock
Who comfort me so much..

But the yearning thought is mingled now
With the thankful song I sing;
For Thy people know the secret source
Of every precious thing.

The heart that ministers for Thee

In Thy own work will rest ; And the subject spirit of a child Can serve Thy children best.

Mine be the reverent, listening love,

That waits all day on Thee,
With the service of a watchful heart
Which no one else can see;
The faith that, in a hidden way
No other eye may know,

Finds all its daily work prepared,
And loves to have it so.

My heart is resting, O my God,
My heart is in Thy care—
I hear the voice of joy and health
Resounding everywhere.

"Thou art my portion," saith my soul,
Ten thousand voices say,
And the music of their glad Amen
Will never die away.

TRIUMPH THROUGH SUFFERING.

'Deep calleth unto deep at the noise of Thy waterspouts : all Thy waves and Thy billows are gone over me. Yet the Lord will command His lovingkindness in the daytime, and in the night His song shall be with me, and my prayer unto the God of my life."-PSALM xlii. 7, 8.

Go not far from me, O my strength,

Whom all my times obey;

Take from me anything Thou wilt,

But go not Thou away,

And let the storm that does Thy work
Deal with me as it may.

On Thy compassion I repose,
In weakness and distress:
I will not ask for greater ease,
Lest I should love Thee less.
Oh, 'tis a blessed thing for me
To need Thy tenderness.
While many sympathising hearts
For my deliverance care,
Thou, in Thy wiser, stronger love,
Art teaching me to bear-

By the sweet voice of thankful song,
And calm, confiding prayer.

Thy love has many a lighted path,

No outward eye can trace,

And my heart sees Thee in the deep,
With darkness on its face,

And communes with Thee, 'mid the storm,
As in a secret place.

O comforter of God's redeemed,

Whom the world does not see,

What hand should pluck me from the flood,
That casts my soul on Thee?
Who would not suffer pain like mine,
To be consoled like me?

When I am feeble as a child,

And flesh and heart give way,
Then on Thy everlasting strength
With passive trust I stay.

And the rough wind becomes a song,
The darkness shines like day.

Oh, blessed are the eyes that see,
Though silent anguish show
The love that in their hours of sleep,
Unthanked may come and go.
And blessed are the ears that hear,
Though kept awake by woe.

Happy are they that learn, in Thee,
Though patient suffering teach
The secret of enduring strength,
And praise too deep for speech-
Peace that no pressure from without,
No strife within, can reach.

There is no death for me to fear,

For Christ, my Lord, hath died ; There is no curse in this my pain, For He was crucified.

And it is fellowship with Him

That keeps me near His side.

My heart is fixed, O God, my strengthMy heart is strong to bear;

I will be joyful in Thy love,

And peaceful in Thy care.

Deal with me, for my Saviour's sake,
According to His prayer.

No suffering while it lasts is joy,
How blest soe'er it be-

Yet may the chastened child be glad
His Father's face to see;
And oh, it is not hard to bear
What must be borne in Thee.

It is not hard to bear by faith,
In Thy own bosom laid,
The trial of a soul redeemed,

For Thy rejoicing made.

Well may the heart in patience rest
That none can make afraid.

Safe in Thy sanctifying grace,

Almighty to restore—

Borne onward-sin and death behind,

And love and life before

Oh, let my soul abound in hope,

And praise Thee more and more!

Deep unto deep may call, but I
With peaceful heart will say--
Thy loving-kindness hath a charge
No waves can take away ;

And let the storm that speeds me home,
Deal with me as it may.

LIFE AND VICTORY IN THE BELOVED.

"It is a faithful saying: For if we be dead with Him, we shall also live with Him: if we suffer, we shall also reign with Him."-2 TIMOTHY ii. II, 12.

"Most gladly therefore will I rather glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me."-2 COR. xii. 9.

COMPASSED about with songs, my soul was still-
But not for lack of light its bliss to see;
Thy heart, my Father, could the temple fill,
And its deep silence was a song to Thee.
My mind reposed in its captivity,

By the clear evidence of love subdued;

I was content to die, that I might be
Redeemed for ever from my solitude.
All that was in me to Thy throne aspired,

Longed for Thy heavenly glory to be meet,—
Devotion was the joy to be desired,

And the one thought of sacrifice was sweet.

But He who knew my frame was training me
For service needing strength that cannot wane,
And teaching me my frail mortality

By solemn reckonings of the weight of pain.
I in my weakness-how was I to reign,
When suffering was the only way to power?
And would my spirit in His strength remain,
When watching was a strife for one short hour?
Could I with steadfast heart myself deny?

Could I with patient love the Cross endure? Should I be every day content to die,

To keep my daily life in Him secure?

Then with fresh sweetness, from the saints in light,
One song of victory to my soul made known,
How the hid treasure of the Church's might
Was in the power of her Beloved alone.