FELLOWSHIP. Thus to the Father prayed the Son, MONTGOMERY. Thou who in that bitter night Didst die for us long years ago; Thou who through thy love's strong might Hast made our hearts thy mercy know! O remind thy little flock Who so lightly disagree, What thy last petition spoke, 'Let them all be one in me." From the German of ZINZENDORF. O sweet it is, through life's dark way And one in faith, in hope, in love. Our souls by love together knit, Cemented, mixed in one, One hope, one heart, one mind, one voice'Tis heaven on earth begun. Our hearts have burned while Jesus spake, He stopped, and talked, and fed, and blessed, MILLER. O! help each other, hasten on, Behold the goal is nigh at hand; Soon shall the battle-field be won, 123 Soon shall your King before you stand! To calmest rest he leads you now, And sets his crown upon your brow. Press on! From the German of LEHR. Still one in life, and one in death, BONAR. Brethren in Christ, and well belov'd, How blest the sacred tie that binds, MRS. BARBAULD. We part in body, not in mind, Our minds continue one; And each to each in Jesus joined, We hand in hand go on. Subsists as in us all one soul, No power can make us twain, And mountains rise, and oceans roll To sever us in vain. Joined hand in hand are we; With earnest fear Let each the other strengthen in his need; In this strange land we brothers are indeed. It will not always last, Therefore be brave! And soon we all shall be Across the wave; There find, from sorrow free, The rest we crave. From the German of TERSTEEGEN. C. WESLEY. Even so, who loves the Lord aright Since Christ on all hath shined; All glistening with baptismal dew. KEBLE. Minds FLOWERS. Mountain blossoms, shining blossoms, When no summer can be had, Tokens to the wintry earth that beauty liveth still! MRS. BROWNING. To me, the meanest flower that blows can give By nature great, are conscious of their Thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears. greatness, And hold it mean to borrow aught from flattery. ROWE. WORDSWORTH. The plants look up to heaven, from whence They have their nourishment. SHAKSPEARE. O! it is worse than mockery to list the flatt'rer's tone; To lend a ready ear to thoughts the cheek Flowers! when the Saviour's calm, benignant FLOWERS — FOLLY — FOOLS. Where are the flowers, the fair young flowers, that lately sprang and stood In brighter light, and softer airs, a beauteous sisterhood? Alas! they all are in their graves; the gentle race of flowers Are lying in their lowly beds, with the fair and good of ours. The rain is falling where they lie; but the cold November rain 127 The daisy with its petals, crimson-fringed, Speaks of humility, disclaiming praise, And fairer by abasement. J. F. HOLLINGS. The moss-clad violet, fragrant and concealed, Calls not from out the gloomy earth the lovely "Tis what we must in our autumn do! Fade, flowers, fade! nature will have it so; ones again. And as your leaves lie quiet on the ground, The loss alone by those that loved them found; So in the grave shall we as quiet lie, FOLLY-FOOLS. Folly in fools bears not so strong a note Soon our whole term for wisdom is expired: And everlasting fool is writ in fire, YOUNG. Yet man, fool man! here buries all his thoughts; Inters celestial hopes without one sigh. To fly at infinite; and reach it there, On life's fair tree, fast by the throne of God. At thirty man suspects himself a fool; same. HERRICK. YOUNG. |