We know that we’re stubborn and willful,
And tho’ we have kindly been shown
The true way, which God has appointed,
We often go on in our own.
And thus we go on in the darkness,
Groping our way thro’ the night;
Unmindful ofttimes of His goodness,
And missing His glorious light.
But still He looks down with compassion,
And e’en thro’ life’s greatest alarms
We’re sheltered and safely protected,
As weak little lambs in His arms.
Could we but have more of His goodness
Implanted each day in our heart,
Perhaps there are others about us
Who’d feel the rich joy we’d impart.
Could our love, every day, be to others
As the love from our Maker above,
O what a grand army of brothers
Would be banded together in love!
PITCHER OR JUG.
Which brings poverty and woe,
Which makes useless tears to flow,
Which brings scorn where’er we go,
Pitcher or jug?
Which fades beauty, health and bloom,
Which turns happiness to gloom,
Which leads to the drunkard’s tomb,
Pitcher or jug?