THE VISITATION OF THE SICK.
The kingdom that I seek
Is thine: so let the way That leads to it be thine, Else I must surely stray. Take thou my cup, and it
With joy or sorrow fill, As best to thee may seem; Choose thou my good and ill. Choose thou for me my friends, My sickness or my health; Choose thou my cares for me, My poverty or wealth. Not mine, not mine the choice In things or great or small; Be thou my guide, my strength, My wisdom, and my all.
48 Toss'D with rough winds, and
faint with fear,
Apve the tempest, soft and clear, What still small accents greet mine
ear?
' Tis I; be not afraid.
" Tis I, who wash'd thy spirit white; ' Tis I, who gave thy blind eyes sight; Tis I, thy Lord, thy life, thy light: ' Tis I; be not afraid.
These raging winds, this surging sea, Have spent their deadly force on me: They bear no breath of wrath to thee: ' Tis I; be not afraid.
Mine eyes are watching by thy bed, Mine arms are underneath thy head, My blessing is around thee shed:
' Tis I; be not afraid.
When on the other side thy feet Shall rest, mid thousand welcomes sweet One well- known voice thy heart shall greet,
' Tis I; be not afraid.( x) 469 0 LORD, how happy should
we be
If we could cast our care on thee, If we from self could rest; And feel at heart that One above In perfect wisdom, perfect love, working for the best. How far from this our daily life, How oft disturb'd by anxious strife, By sudden wild alarms; O could we but relinquish all Our earthly props, and simply fall On thine almighty arms! Could we but kneel and cast our load, Even while we pray, upon our God,
Then rise with lighten'd cheer; Sure that the Father, who is nigh To still the famish'd raven's cry, Will hear in that we fear.
But birds and flowerets round us presch All, all the present evil teach
Sufficient for the day.
Lord, make these faithless hearts of ours Such lessons learn from birds and flowers;
We cannot trust him as we should; So chafes weak nature's restless mood
To cast its peace away:
Make them from self to cease, Leave all things to a Father's will, And taste, before him lying still, Even in affliction, peace.
4700, THE bitter shame and
sorrow,
This bitter cup, I drank it first; To thee it is no draught accurst;
The hand that gives it thee is pierced: 471 LONG did I toil, and knew no.³
be not afraid.
That a time could ever be, When I let the Saviour's pity Plead in vain, and proudly answer'd, " All of self, and none of thee." Yet he found me; I beheld him Bleeding on th' accursèd tree, Heard him pray:" Forgive them, Father" And my wistful heart said faintly,
" Some of self, and some of thee." Day by day his tender mercy,
Healing, helping, full and free, Sweet and strong, and ah! so patient, Brought me lower, while I whisper'd, " Less of self, and more of thee."
Higher than the highest heavens, Deeper than the deepest sea, Lord, thy love at last hath conquer'a; Grant me now my soul's petition, « No: of self, and all of thee."
Far did I rove, and found no certain home,
At last I sought them in his sheltering breast,
Who opes his arms, and bids theweary come:
With him I found a home, a rest divine, And I since then am his, and he is mine. The good I have is from his stores supplied;
The ill is only what he deems the best, He for my Friend, I'm rich with nought beside;
And poor without him, though of all possess'd.
Changes may come; I take, or I resign; Content, while I am his, while he is mine Whate'er may change, in him no change
is seen;
A glorious sun that wanes not nor declines;
Above the clouds and storms he walks serene,
And sweetly on his people's darkness shines:
All may depart, I fret not, nor repine, While I my Saviour's am, while he is mine.
While here, alas, I know but half his love, But half discern him, and bet half sdore;