ESTATE.
O give thanks unto the God of Gods: for His mercy endureth for ever.
Who remembered us in our low estate: for His mercy endureth for ever.—Psalm cxxxvi. 2, 23.
And Mary said, My soul doth magnify the Lord,
And my spirit hath rejoiced in God my Saviour.
For he hath regarded the low estate of His handmaiden.—Luke, i. 46, 47, 48.
Mind not high things, but condescend to men of low estate.—Romans, xii. 16.
Go, miser! go; for lucre sell thy soul;
Truck wares for wares, and trudge from pole to pole,
That men may say, when thou art dead and gone,
See what a vast estate he left his son.
Dryden.
Wherever in the world I am,
In whatsoe’er estate,
I have a fellowship with hearts
To keep and cultivate;
And a work of lowly love to do,
For the Lord on whom I wait.
Ann L. Waring.
Oh yes! I have a goodly heritage,
A vast estate is mine;
My title deeds are on the sacred page,
Writ by a hand divine.
The land is fruitful, yielding all things good,
An overflowing store;
To satisfy the utmost wish, nor could
My spirit ask for more.
’Tis in a pleasant country—this estate—
Of ever-new delight;
No storms are there to chill and devastate,
There comes no gloomy night.
My tenor is inviolate; for death
Signs, seals, and opes the door,
That me into possession ushereth,
There to dwell evermore.
Egone.