But truth essential, truth divine,
Our Father's everlasting will,
The love for which our spirits pine,
The joys that all our hopes fulfil—
Sweet rest in each successive stage,
Since first we drew this vital breath, And warmth amid the chills of age, And comfort in the hour of death.
If such the banquet pure and good
For human souls benignly spread,
O Critic! spare the children's food,
Nor give the people stones for bread!
But nought, methinks, will make us part,
Save our own sin's deliberate choice,
With that strong instinct of the heart,
By which we know our Master's voice;
And, when He speaks, we need not quail
For aught that men may do or say—
Because, though heaven and earth should fail,
His words will never pass away.
Remembering always, that our want
Must by His wisdom first be tried,
And what we fancied love would grant
May also be by love denied;
Remembering when we kneel and pray,
How in the garden prayed the Son,
And ready still with Him to say :
"FATHER! THY WILL, NOT MINE, BE DONE!
"THY WORD IS A LAMP UNTO MY FEET
AND A LIGHT UNTO MY PATH."
HEN Israel knew not where to go,
God made the fiery pillar glow;
By night, by day, above the camp
It led the way,-their guiding lamp;
Such is Thy holy Word to me
In day of dark perplexity.
When devious paths before me spread,
And all invite my foot to tread,
I hear Thy voice behind me say,
'Believing soul, this is the way,
Walk thou in it." O gentle Dove,
How much Thy holy law I love!
My lamp and light
In the dark night.
“THY WORD IS A LAMP UNTO MY FEET." 39
When Paul amid the seas seemed lost,
By Adrian billows wildly tossed,
When neither sun nor star appeared,
And every wave its white head reared
Above the ship, beside his bed
An angel stood, and "Fear not!" said.
Such is Thy holy Word to me
When tossed upon affliction's sea;
When floods come in upon my soul,
And the deep waters o'er me roll,
With angel voice Thy Word draws near
And says,
"'Tis I, why shouldst thou fear?
Through troubles great my saints must go
Unto their rest, where neither woe
Nor sin can come; where every tear
From off the cheek shall disappear,
Wiped by God's hand." O gentle Dove,
Thy holy Law how much I love!
My lamp and light
When holy Stephen dauntless stood
Before the Jews, who sought his blood,
40 "THY WORD IS A LAMP UNTO MY FEET."
With angel face he looked on high,
And wondering, through the parted sky,
Saw Jesus, risen from His throne
To claim the martyr as His own.
Angelic peace Thy sight bestowed,
With holy joy his bosom glowed;
And while the murderous stones they hurled,
His heaven-wrapt soul sought yonder world
Of rest. "My spirit, Saviour, keep!"
He cried; he kneeled, he fell asleep.
Such be Thy holy Word to me
In hour of life's extremity !
Although no more the murdering hand
Is raised within our peaceful land-
The Church has rest, and I may ne'er
Be called the martyr's crown to wear :
Yet still, in whatsoever form
Death comes to me,-in midnight storm,
Whelming my bark, or in my nest,
Gently dismissing me to rest,-
O grant me in Thy Word to see
A risen Saviour beckoning me.
No evil then my heart shall fear
In the dark valley. Thou art near!
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