In the refrain of one sweet song
Each silent voice we miss,
A song to make the feeble strong,
A song to breathe of bliss.
The song which white robed seraphs hold
All other songs above;
The perfect song, the new, the old,
Of Love.
SUNSHINE.
There is plenty of sunshine in the world
To brighten the darkest days;
Are we sailing on with our colors furled,
Or spread to the cheering rays?
Are we sailing on with downcast eyes,
Or eyes on the gleaming goal?
Safe is the trip of the ship of the skies
Though the waves of the clouds rough roll.
“IT IS GOD’S WAY.”
Rest, kindly heart, content to say
“It is God’s way,
His will be done.”
Thrice blessed thought,
With bliss enwrought,
For Freedom’s son.
Rest, kingly soul, inspired to say
“It is God’s way,
His will be done.”
While nations weep
And vigil keep,
Thy course is run.
Rest, martyr, lo! we hear thee say:—
“It is God’s way,
His will be done.”
“Nearer to Thee,”
Oh, tender plea,
The crown is won.