PATIENCE.

DE

EAR Jesus, give me patience here,
And faith to see my crown as near,
And almoft reach'd; because 't is sure
If I hold fast, and flight the lure.
Give me humility and peace,
Contented thoughts, innoxious ease,
A sweet, revengeless, quiet minde,
And to my greatest haters kinde.
Give me, my God! a heart as milde
And plain, as when I was a childe.
That when my throne is set, and all
These conquerors before it fall,
I may be found preserv'd by thee
Amongst the chosen company,
Who by no blood here overcame
But the blood of the bleffed Lamb.

Henry Vaughan.

UNC

WAITING FOR CHRIST.

NCHANGEABLE, Almighty Lord, The true, and merciful, and just, Be mindful of thy gracious word, Wherein thou causeft me to trust.

My weary eyes look out in vain,

And long thy saving health to see; But known to thee is all my pain,

When wilt thou come and comfort me ?

Prisoner of hope, to thee I turn;

Thee my strong hold, and only stay;
Harden'd in grief, I ever mourn:
Why do thy chariot-wheels delay ?

But shall thy creature afk thee why?
No; I retract the eager prayer;
Lord, as thou wilt, and not as I;
I cannot choose: thou canst not err.

To thee, the only wise and true,
See then at laft I all refign;
Make me in Chrift a creature new,

The manner and the time be thine.

Only preserve my soul from sin,
Nor let me faint for want of thee;
I'll wait 'till thou appear within,

And plant thy heaven of love in me.

Wesley.

A

THE ANGEL OF PATIENCE.

"Ye have need of patience.” — Heb. 10: 36.

GENTLE Angel walketh throughout a world of

woe,

With meffages of mercy to mourning hearts below;
His peaceful smile invites them to love and to confide,
Oh! follow in His footsteps, keep closely by His fide!

So gently will He lead thee through all the cloudy day, And whisper of glad-tidings to cheer the pilgrim-way; His courage never failing, when thine is almost gone, He takes thy heavy burden, and helps to bear it on.

To soft and tearful sadnefs He changes dumb despair, And soothes to deep submiffion the storm of grief and

care;

Where midnight fhades are brooding, He pours the light of noon,

And every grievous wound He heals, moft surely, if

not soon.

He will not blame thy sorrows, while He brings the healing balm;

He does not chide thy longings, while He soothes them into calm;

And when thy heart is murmuring, and wildly asking why?

He smiling beckons forward, points upward to the sky.

He will not always answer thy questions and thy fear, His watchword is, "Be patient, thy journey's end is near ! "

And ever through the toilsome way, He tells of joys

to come,

And points the pilgrim to his rest, the wanderer to his

home.

Spitta.

GOD'S ANVIL.

AIN'S furnace-heat within me quivers,

PAIN

God's breath upon the flame doth blow,

And all my heart in anguish shivers,
And trembles at the fiery glow;
And yet I whisper-as God will!
And in his hotteft fire, hold ftill.

He comes and lays my heart, all heated,
On the hard anvil, minded so

Into his own fair fhape to beat it

With his great hammer, blow on blow; And yet I whisper-as God will!

And at his heaviest blows, hold ftill.

He takes my softened heart and beats it;
The sparks fly off at every blow;

He turns it o'er and o'er, and heats it,
And lets it cool, and makes it glow;
And yet I whisper-as God will!
And, in his mighty hand, hold still.

Why should I murmur? for the sorrow
Thus only longer lived would be;
Its end may come, and will, to-morrow,
When God has done his work in me;
So I say, trufting-as God will!
And, trusting to the end, hold still.

He kindles for my profit purely
Afflictions glowing, fiery brand,
And all his heaviest blows are surely
Inflicted by a Master hand;
So I say, praying-as God will!
And hope in him, and suffer ftill.

Julius Sturm.