Songs of Rest

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Sir William Robertson Nicoll
Macniven & Wallace, 1879 - Christian poetry - 100 pages
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Page 40 - To lay the storms of hope and fear, And reconcile life's smile and tear ; The throbs of wounded pride to still, And make our own our Father's will. O thou who mournest on thy way, With longings for the close of day ; He walks with thee, that Angel kind, And gently whispers : " Be resigned : Bear up, bear on, the end shall tell The dear Lord ordereth all things well.
Page 40 - There's quiet in that Angel's glance There's rest in his still countenance! He mocks no grief with idle cheer, Nor wounds with words the mourner's ear; But ills and woes he may not cure He kindly trains us to endure. Angel of Patience! sent to calm Our feverish brows with cooling...
Page 60 - OF all the thoughts of God that are Borne inward unto souls afar, Along the Psalmist's music deep, Now tell me if that any is, For gift or grace, surpassing this — 'He giveth His beloved, sleep !
Page 34 - Wherefore, if thy hand or thy foot offend thee, cut them off, and cast them from thee: it is better for thee to enter into life halt or maimed, rather than having two hands or two feet, to be cast into everlasting fire.
Page 60 - ? What would we give to our beloved? The hero's heart to be unmoved, The poet's star-tuned harp, to sweep, The patriot's voice, to teach and rouse, The monarch's crown, to light the brows? — He giveth His beloved, sleep. What do we give to our beloved? A little faith all undisproved, A little dust to overweep, And bitter memories to make The whole earth blasted for our sake. He giveth His beloved, sleep.
Page 58 - ALL are not taken ; there are left behind Living Beloveds, tender looks to bring. And make the daylight still a happy thing, And tender voices, to make soft the wind. But if it were not so — if I could find No love in all the world for comforting, Nor any path but hollowly did ring, Where
Page 54 - O CHRIST of God ! whose life and death Our own have reconciled, Most quietly, most tenderly Take home thy star-named child ! Thy grace is in her patient eyes, Thy words are on her tongue ; The very silence round her seems As if the angels sung. Her smile is as a listening child's Who hears its mother call ; The lilies of Thy perfect peace About her pillow lall.
Page 76 - ... and play ; Hearken what the past doth witness and say : Rust in thy gold, a moth is in thine array, A canker is in thy bud, thy leaf must decay. At midnight, at cockcrow, at morning, one certain day Lo, the Bridegroom shall come and shall not delay : Watch thou and pray. Then I answered : Yea. Passing away, saith my God, passing away : Winter passeth after the long delay : New grapes on the vine, new figs on the tender spray, Turtle calleth turtle in Heaven's May. Though I tarry wait for Me,...
Page 67 - WOULD you be young again? So would not I — One tear to memory given, Onward I'd hie. Life's dark flood forded o'er, All but at rest on shore, Say, would you plunge once more, With home so nigh? If you might, would you now Retrace your way? Wander through thorny wilds, Faint and astray?
Page 68 - I wish to have no wishes left, But to leave all to Thee ; And yet I wish that Thou shouldst will Things that I wish should be. And these two wills I feel within, When on my death I muse : But, Lord ! I have a death to die, And not a death to choose.

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