REFLECTIONS.
We’re just starting into life,—
What shall arm us for its strife?
What shall lead our steps aright?
Whence shall come a guiding light?
Whence shall come the saving word?
How the voice of God be heard?
Not from sages,—not from books,
Nor twinkling stars, nor babbling brooks.
These all speak His power and love,
Who rules below, and rules above;
But to know His holy will,
Oft in silence deep and still,
We must turn an ear within;
There, midst life’s disturbing din,
The “still, small voice,” in whispers sweet
Shall point our way and guide our feet.
WHAT IS HEAVEN?
Love is heaven, and heaven is love,
This is all of heaven above;
There no envy, wrath, nor strife,
Mars the bliss of endless life.
There no anger swells the breast,
There no pride disturbs the rest;
Nor can hatred dwell above,
In that world of perfect love.
THE CHILD’S MONITOR.
The wind blows down the largest tree,
And yet the wind I cannot see.