As the bird trims her to the gale,
I trim myself to the storm of time,
I man the rudder, reef the sail,
Obey the voice at eve obeyed at prime;
“Lowly faithful, banish fear,
Right onward drive unharmed;
The port, well worth the cruise, is near,
And every wave is charmed.”
Ralph Waldo Emerson
Eternal power of earth and air,
Unseen, yet seen in all around,
Remote, but dwelling everywhere,
Though silent, heard in every sound.
If e’er thine ear in mercy bent
When wretched mortals cried to thee,
And if indeed thy Son was sent
To save lost sinners such as me.
Then hear me now, while kneeling here;
I lift to thee my heart and eye
And all my soul ascends in prayer;
O give me - give me Faith I cry.
Without some glimmering in my heart,
I could not raise this fervent prayer;
But O a stronger light impart,
And in thy mercy fix it there!
While Faith is with me I am blest;
It turns my darkest night to day;
But while I clasp it to my breast
I often feel it slide away.
Then cold and dark my spirit sinks,
To see my light of life depart,
And every fiend of Hell methinks
Enjoys the anguish of my heart.
What shall I do if all my love,
My hopes, my toil, are cast away,
And if there be no God above
To hear and bless me when I pray?
If this be vain delusion all,
If death be an eternal sleep,
And none can hear my secret call,
Or see the silent tears I weep.
O help me God! for thou alone
Canst my distracted soul relieve;
Forsake it not — it is thine own,
Though weak yet longing to believe.
O drive these cruel doubts away
And make me know that thou art God;
A Faith that shines by night and day
Will lighten every earthly load.
If I believe that Jesus died
And waking rose to reign above,
Then surely Sorrow, Sin and Pride
Must yield to peace and hope and love.
And all the blessed words he said
Will strength and holy joy impart,
A shield of safety o’er my head,
A spring of comfort in my heart.
Is it raining, little flower?
Be glad of rain.
Too much sun would wither thee,
‘Twill shine again.
The sky is very black, ’tis true,
But just behind it shines
The blue.
Art thou weary, tender heart?
Be glad of pain;
In sorrow the sweetest things will grow
As flowers in the rain.
God watches and thou wilt have sun
When clouds their perfect work
Have done.
Anonymous
To Mercy, Pity, Peace, and Love
All pray in their distress;
And to these virtues of delight
Return their thankfulness.
For Mercy, Pity, Peace, and Love
Is God, our father dear,
And Mercy, Pity, Peace, and Love
Is Man, his child and care.
For Mercy has a human heart,
Pity a human face,
And Love, the human form divine,
And Peace, the human dress.
Then every man, of every clime,
That prays in his distress,
Prays to the human form divine,
Love, Mercy, Pity, Peace.
And all must love the human form,
In heathen, turk, or jew;
Where Mercy, Love, & Pity dwell
There God is dwelling too.
Show me a man who has calmed the storm and walked on the waters of Galilee;
Source
show me a man who has cured the sick and healed the lepers
show me a man who has brought back to life those who had died
show me a man who restored the sight of the blind
show me a man who healed the dumb and the deaf
show me a man who has made wine out of water.
Show me a man who had no education but taught crowds by parables
show me a man who has multiplied bread and fish and fed thousands
show me a man who has fasted for forty days yet avoided devil’s temptations;
show me a man who climbed the Mount Calvary carrying his own cross
show me a man who was nailed on the same cross he carried uphill
show me a man who though innocent was hung among thieves and convicts
show me a man who has risen from death and ascended to heaven
show me a man who has not used swords of hatred but words of love and peace
show me a man who has been revered for centuries
that man is Jesus, only Jesus.
I measure every Grief I meet
With narrow, probing, Eyes–
I wonder if It weighs like Mine–
Or has an Easier size.
I wonder if They bore it long–
Or did it just begin–
I could not tell the Date of Mine–
It feels so old a pain–
I wonder if it hurts to live–
And if They have to try–
And whether–could They choose between–
It would not be–to die–
I note that Some–gone patient long–
At length, renew their smile–
An imitation of a Light
That has so little Oil–
I wonder if when Years have piled–
Some Thousands–on the Harm–
That hurt them early–such a lapse
Could give them any Balm–
Or would they go on aching still
Through Centuries of Nerve–
Enlightened to a larger Pain–
In Contrast with the Love–
The Grieved–are many–I am told–
There is the various Cause–
Death–is but one–and comes but once–
And only nails the eyes–
There’s Grief of Want–and grief of Cold–
A sort they call “Despair”–
There’s Banishment from native Eyes–
In Sight of Native Air–
And though I may not guess the kind–
Correctly–yet to me
A piercing Comfort it affords
In passing Calvary–
To note the fashions–of the Cross–
And how they’re mostly worn–
Still fascinated to presume
That Some–are like My Own–
When it comes to buying shares
In the mines of earth,
May I join the millionaires
Who are rich in mirth.
Let me have a heavy stake
In fresh mountain air—
I will promise now to take
All that you can spare.
When you’re setting up your claim
In the Mines of Glee,
Don’t forget to use my name—
You can count on me.
Nothing better can be won,
Freer from alloy,”
“Than a bouncing claim in “Con-
Solidated Joy.”
You can have your Copper Stocks
Gold and tin and coal—
What I’d have within my box
Has to do with Soul.
John Kendrick Bangs
