Chapter 39
Not in the solitude Alone may man commune with Heaven, or see Only in savage wood And sunny vale the present Deity; Or only hear his voice Where the winds whisper and the waves rejoice.
Even here do I behold Thy steps, Almighty!--here, amidst the crowd Through the great city rolled With everlasting murmurs deep and loud-- Choking the ways that wind 'Mongst the proud piles, the work of human kind.
The golden suns.h.i.+ne comes From the round heaven, and on their dwellings lies And lights their inner homes; For them thou fill'st with air the unbounded skies And givest them the stores Of ocean, and the harvest of its sh.o.r.es.
Thy spirit is around, Quickening the restless ma.s.s that sweeps along; And this eternal sound-- Voices and footfalls of the numberless throng-- Like the resounding sea, Or like the rainy tempest, speaks of Thee.
And when the hour of rest Comes like a calm upon the mid-sea brine, Hus.h.i.+ng its billowy breast-- The quiet of that moment too is Thine It breathes of Him who keeps The vast and helpless city while it sleeps.
--William Cullen Bryant.
No one is so accursed by fate, No one so utterly desolate, But some heart, though unknown, Responds unto his own.
--Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.
Believe not each accusing tongue, As most weak people do; But still believe that story wrong Which ought not to be true.
--Richard Brinsley Sheridan.
CHRIST IN THE CITY
Where cross the crowded ways of life Where sound the cries of race and clan, Above the noise of selfish strife, We hear thy voice, O Son of man.
In haunts of wretchedness and need, On shadowed thresholds dark with fears, From paths where hide the lures of greed We catch the vision of thy tears.
From tender childhood's helplessness, From woman's grief, man's burdened toil, From famished souls, from sorrow's stress, Thy heart has never known recoil.
The cup of water given for Thee Still holds the freshness of thy grace; Yet long these mult.i.tudes to see The sweet compa.s.sion of thy face.
O Master, from the mountain side Make haste to heal these hearts of pain, Among these restless throngs abide, O tread the city's streets again,
Till sons of men shall learn thy love And follow where thy feet have trod; Till glorious from thy heaven above Shall come the
--Frank Mason North.
Who seeks for heaven alone to save his soul May keep the path, but will not reach the goal; While he who walks in love may wander far, But G.o.d will bring him where the blessed are.
--Henry van d.y.k.e.
Persuasion, friend, comes not by toil or art, Hard study never made the matter clearer; 'Tis the live fountain in the preacher's heart Sends forth the streams that melt the ravished hearer.
--Johann Wolfgang von Goethe.
SPEAK OUT
If you have a friend worth loving, Love him. Yes, and let him know That you love him, ere life's evening Tinge his brow with sunset glow.
Why should good words ne'er be said Of a friend--till he is dead?
If you hear a song that thrills you, Sung by any child of song, Praise it. Do not let the singer Wait deserved praises long.
Why should one who thrills your heart Lack the joy you may impart?
If you hear a prayer that moves you By its humble, pleading tone, Join it. Do not let the seeker Bow before his G.o.d alone.
Why should not thy brother share The strength of "two or three" in prayer?
If your work is made more easy By a friendly, helping hand, Say so. Speak out brave and truly, Ere the darkness veil the land.
Should a brother workman dear Falter for a word of cheer?
Scatter thus your seeds of kindness All enriching as you go-- Leave them. Trust the Harvest-Giver; He will make each seed to grow.
So, until the happy end, Your life shall never lack a friend.
INFLUENCE
The smallest bark on life's tumultuous ocean Will leave a track behind forevermore; The lightest wave of influence, once in motion, Extends and widens to the eternal sh.o.r.e.
We should be wary, then, who go before A myriad yet to be, and we should take Our bearings carefully where breakers roar And fearful tempests gather: one mistake May wreck unnumbered barks that follow in our wake.
--Sarah Knowles Bolton.
TELL HIM SO
If you have a word of cheer That may light the pathway drear, Of a brother pilgrim here, Let him know.
Show him you appreciate What he does, and do not wait Till the heavy hand of fate Lays him low.
If your heart contains a thought That will brighter make his lot, Then, in mercy, hide it not; Tell him so.
Bide not till the end of all Carries him beyond recall When beside his sable pall, To avow Your affection and acclaim To do honor to his name And to place the wreath of fame On his brow.
Rather speak to him to-day; For the things you have to say May a.s.sist him on his way: Tell him now.
Life is hard enough, at best: But the love that is expressed Makes it seem a pathway blest To our feet; And the troubles that we share Seem the easier to bear, Smile upon your neighbor's care, As you greet.
Rough and stony are our ways, Dark and dreary are our days; But another's love and praise Make them sweet.
Wait not till your friend is dead Ere your compliments are said; For the spirit that has fled, If it know, Does not need to speed it on Our poor praise; where it has gone Love's eternal, golden dawn Is aglow.
But unto our brother here That poor praise is very dear; If you've any word of cheer Tell him so.
--J. A. Egerton.
So when a great man dies, For years beyond our ken The light he leaves behind him lies Upon the paths of men.
--Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.