And ate, I spied him, where a fountain burst Clear from the rock; his ftrength was gone; The heedless water mocked his thirft, He heard it, saw it hurrying on: I ran to raise the sufferer up; Thrice from the ftream he drained my cup, I drank, and never thirsted more. 'T was night; the floods were out; it blew A winter hurricane aloof; I heard his voice abroad, and flew To bid him welcome to my roof; I warmed, I clothed, I cheered my guest, Then made the hearth my bed, and seemed Stript, wounded, beaten, nigh to death, Wine, oil, refreshment; he was healed: But from that hour forgot the smart, In prison I saw him next, condemned He asked if I for him would die? The flesh was weak, my blood ran chill, Then in a moment to my view The Stranger darted from disguise; My Saviour stood before mine eyes! James Montgomery. 1826. QUIET. THE INNER CALM. `ALM me, my God, and keep me calm, CAL While these hot breezes blow; Be like the night-dew's cooling balm Calm me, my God, and keep me calm, Soft refting on thy breast; Soothe me with holy hymn and psalm, And bid my spirit rest. Calm me, my God, and keep me calm; Let thine outstretchéd wing Be like the fhade of Elim's palm Befide her desert spring. Yes, keep me calm, though loud and rude The sounds my ear that greet, Calm in the closet's solitude, Calm in the bustling ftreet; Calm in the hour of buoyant health, Calm in my hour of pain, Calm in my poverty or wealth, Calm in the sufferance of wrong, Calm when the great world's news with power My liftening spirit ftir; Let not the tidings of the hour E'er find too fond an ear; Calm as the ray of sun or ftar Moving unruffled through earth's war, The eternal calm to gain. H. Bonar. 1856. BE STILL, AND KNOW THAT I AM GOD. H E who himself and God would know, And, lifting off pall after pall, Reach to the inmost depth of all. Let him look forth into the night; What solemn depths, what filent might! And, as the evening wind sweeps by, How small, in that uplifted hour, A mighty mind of nobler will Sends through his soul its quickening thrill; No more a creature of the clod, He knows himself a child of God. Martineau. HA ATH not thy heart within thee burned As if its inmoft depths discerned |