My soul drinks of the living stream.
Praise God for these small draughts. Enlarge and fill, and enlarge for
ever!"
MAN'S FRAILTY.
See a flower of lovely hue,
Dipp'd in beauty bright, at Spring,
Blasted by a wind that blew,
Ere it passed its blossoming.
Such is man, in best estate;
Like a flower he buddeth forth,
Till some unexpected fate
Brings him to his mother earth,
Such a shadow of a shade,
Human life, a moment, is:
Now we live, but soon conveyed
Past all life's uncertainties.
Blooming youth and wither'd age,
Infant charms and ripened years,
Death assaults with equal rage,
Unappeas'd by prayers or tears:
Then, the closely wedded pair,
Soul and body sadly part;
Yet to meet again--but _where?
Seek the answer in thy heart_.
"'Looking unto Jesus!' This is the posture of my soul. Yea, I long
after God. I have been peculiarly drawn out In prayer for several
members of my family, with great sweetness In my own soul. Glory be to
God!"
XXIII.
SLEEP IN JESUS.
"WEEP NOT; SHE IS NOT DEAD BUT SLEEPETH."--Luke viii. 62.
When the shadows of evening begin to fall, it is not difficult to
prognosticate that the night is at hand; and, admonished by the
increasing gloom, man, wearied by the tolls of the day, gladly looks
forward to the hour of repose. Universal nature shares in the feeling
of presentiment. The cattle seek the shed; the birds fly back to their
nests; and the gentle flower folds its delicate petals, as if for
sleep.
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