Effort.

1 Scorn not the slightest word or deed,
Nor deem it void of power;
There's fruit in each wind-wafted seed,
That waits its natal hour.

2 A whispered word may touch the heart,
And call it back to life;
A look of love bid sin depart,
And still unholy strife.

3 No act falls fruitless; none can tell
How vast its power may be,
Nor what results infolded dwell
Within it silently.

4 Work on, despair not; bring thy mite,
Nor care how small it be;
God is with all that serve the right,
The holy, true, and free.

308. 7s. M. *Bulwer.

The Minister of Love.

1 O'er the mount and through the moor
Glide the Christian's steps secure;
Day and night, no fear he knows;
Lonely, but with God, he goes:
For the coat of mail, bedight
In his spotless robe of white;
For the sinful sword, his hand
Bearing high the olive-wand.

2 Through the camp, and through the court,
Through the dark and deadly fort,
On the mission of the dove,
Speeds the minister of love;
By his word the wildest tames,
And the world to God reclaims;
War, and wrath, and famine cease,
Hushed around his path of peace.

309. C. M. M. B. Lamar.

The Christian Reformer.

1 Nay, tell us not of dangers dire
That lie in duty's path;
A warrior of the cross can feel
No fear of human wrath.

2 Where'er the Prince of Darkness holds
His earthly reign abhorred,
Sword of the spirit, thee we draw,
And battle for the Lord.

3 We go! we go, to break the chains
That bind the erring mind,
And give the freedom that we feel
To all of human kind.

4 But, O, we wear no burnished steel,
And seek no gory field;
Our weapon is the word of God,
His promise is our shield.

5 And still serene and fixed in faith,
We fear no earthly harm;
We know it is our Father's work,
We rest upon His arm.

310. 8 & 7s. M. Longfellow.

Psalm of Life.

1 Tell me not, in mournful numbers,
Life is but an empty dream;
For the soul is dead that slumbers,
And things are not what they seem.