"
As we turned and looked upon her smooth brow, her serious and serene
eyes and her sweet, calm mouth, we marked a look of subdued
suffering mingled with an expression of Christian triumph; and we
knew that she had felt "the ploughings of grief;" that she had
learned "how sublime a thing it is to suffer and grow strong;" but,
though we wondered deeply, we never knew in what form she had been
called "to pass under the rod;" but we heard a voice that said,
"Fear not; when thou passest through the waters, I will be with
thee; and through the rivers, they shall not overflow thee."
Nay, fear not, weak and fainting soul,
Though the wild waters round thee roll,
He will sustain thy faltering way,
Will be thy sure, unfailing stay.
And though it were the fabled stream
Whose waves were fire of fearful gleam,
He still would bear thee safely through
The fire, but cleanse thy soul anew.
COMETH A BLESSING DOWN.
NOT to the man of dollars,
Not to the man of deeds,
Not to the man of cunning,
Not to the man of creeds,
Not to the one whose passion
Is for a world's renown,
Not in a form of fashion,
Cometh a blessing down.
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