A little stream had lost its way

A little stream had lost its way
Amid the grass and fern;
A passing stranger scooped a well,
Where weary men might turn;
He walled it in and hung with care
A ladle at the brink;
He thought not of the deed he did,
But judged that all might drink.
He passed again, and lo! the well,
By summer never dried,
Had cooled ten thousand parching tongues,
And saved a life beside.

from A Deed and A Word by Charles Mackay.

Here, O our Lord

Here, O our Lord, we see you face to face.
Here would we touch and handle things unseen,
here grasp with firmer hand eternal grace,
and all our weariness upon you lean.

Here would we feed upon the bread of God,
here drink with you the royal cup of heaven;
here would we lay aside each earthly load,
and taste afresh the calm of sin forgiven.

 

-Horatio Bonar

 

 

That ocean you have late survey’d

That ocean you have late survey’d,
Those rocks I too have seen;
But I, afflicted and dismay’d,
You, tranquil and serene.

You from the flood-controlling steep
Saw stretch’d before your view,
With conscious joy, the threatening deep,
No longer such to you.

To me the waves, that ceaseless broke
Upon the dangerous coast,
Hoarsely and ominously spoke
Of all my treasure lost.

Your sea of troubles you have past,
And found the peaceful shore;
I, tempest-toss’d, and wreck’d at last,
Come home to port no more.

 

William Cowper – October 1780

With my breath so keen and chilling

seagull-reflection

With my breath so keen and chilling,
I have stripped the branches bare;
And my snow-flakes white are filling,
Feather-like, the frosty air.

Coming o’er the lofty mountains,
There I left a robe of white;
I have locked the sparkling fountains,
I have chained the river bright.

from “Winter” by HP Nichols

Waiting in the woodland

img_1685

Waiting in the woodland, watching for my sweet,
Thinking every leaf that stirs the coming of her feet,
Thinking every whisper the rustle of her gown,
How my heart goes up and up, and then goes down and down.

First it is a squirrel, then it is a dove,
Then a red fox feather-soft and footed like a dream;
All the woodland fools me, promising my love;
I think I hear her talking – ’tis but the running stream.

Lonely grows the afternoon, empty grows the world;
Day’s bright banners in the west one by one are furled,
Sadly sinks the lingering sun that like a lover rose,
One by one each woodland thing loses heart and goes.

from `broken tryst´ by richard le galliene

Veiled is the future before me

img_4494

Veiled is the future before me;
Life’s checkered pathway I climb,
God in his goodness revealing
Only one step at a time.
Will the tomorrow be clouded?
Will it bring sunshine for me?
Let me lean harder, dear Saviour,
Let me lean harder on thee.

Sometime, I’ll come to the valley,
Where a grim shadow is thrown;
No human friend can go with me,
Leave me, O Lord, not alone!
Till that bright, beautiful morning,
When all the darkness shall flee,
Let me lean harder, dear Saviour,
Let me lean harder on thee.

by eliza e. hewitt  1851-1920