Part 230 (2/2)

s.h.i.+ne out, O Light Divine, and show How wide and far we stray!

We may not climb the heavenly steeps To bring the Lord Christ down: In vain we search the lowest deeps, For Him no depths can drown.

But warm, sweet, tender, even yet A present help is He; And faith has still its Olivet, And love its Galilee.

The healing of His seamless dress Is by our beds of pain; We touch Him in life's throng and press, And we are whole again.

Through Him the first fond prayers are said Our lips of childhood frame, The last low whispers of our dead Are burdened with His name.

O Lord and Master of us all!

Whate'er our name or sign, We own Thy sway, we hear Thy call, We test our lives by Thine.

--_John Greenleaf Whittier_.

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[Ill.u.s.tration]

A CARPENTER SHOP.

From a photograph taken by Prof. Lewis Bayles Paton of Hartford Theological Seminary, and used by his kind permission.

This is a most interesting picture of an Eastern carpenter's shop.

Some of the young workmen look very keen and intelligent. So the boy Jesus must have looked in the little shop of Joseph at Nazareth.

[End ill.u.s.tration]

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JESUS, I MY CROSS HAVE TAKEN

Jesus, I my cross have taken, All to leave and follow Thee; Dest.i.tute, despised, forsaken, Thou from hence my all shalt be: Perish every fond ambition, All I've sought and hoped and known; Yet how rich is my condition, G.o.d and heaven are still my own.

Let the world despise and leave me, They have left my Saviour, too; Human hearts and looks deceive me; Thou art not, like man, untrue; And while Thou shalt smile upon me, G.o.d of wisdom, love, and might, Foes may hate, and friends may shun me, Show Thy face, and all is bright.

Go, then, earthly fame and treasure; Come, disaster, scorn, and pain!

In Thy service, pain is pleasure; With Thy favor, loss is gain.

I have called Thee, Abba, Father; I have stayed my heart on Thee: Storms may howl, and clouds may gather, All must work for good to me.

Man may trouble and distress me, 'Twill but drive me to Thy breast; Life with trials hard may press me, Heaven will bring me sweeter rest.

O 'tis not in grief to harm me, While Thy love is left to me; O 'twere not in joy to charm me, Were that joy unmixed with Thee.

--_Henry Francis Lyte_.

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AM I A SOLDIER OF THE CROSS

Am I a soldier of the cross, A follower of the Lamb?

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