ss of joy for evermore,
Without whom all thy toil is vain;
He is thy living spring, thy sun, whose rays
Make glad with life and light thy dreary days.
Be thou content.

In him is comfort, light, and grace,
And changeless love beyond our thought;
The sorest pang, the worst disgrace,
If he is there, shall harm thee not.
He can lift off thy cross and loose thy bands,
And calm thy fears; nay, death is in His hands.
Be thou content.

Or art thou friendless and alone--
Hast none in whom thou canst confide?
God careth for thee, lonely one--
Comfort and help he will provide.
He sees thy sorrows, and thy hidden grief,
He knoweth when to send thee quick relief;
Be thou content.

Thy heart's unspoken pain he knows,
Thy secret sighs he hears full well;
What to none else thou darest disclose
To him thou mayest with boldness tell.
He is not far away, but ever nigh,
And answereth willingly the poor man's cry:
Be thou content.

MANNA

'Twas in the night the manna fell
That fed the hosts of Israel.

Enough for each day's fullest store
And largest need; enough, no more.

For willful waste, for prideful show,
God sent not angels' food below.

Still in our nights of deep distress
The manna falls our heart to bless.

And, famished, as we cry for bread,
With heavenly food our lives are fed,

And each day's need finds each day's store
Enough. Dear Lord, what want we more!

--Margaret Elizabeth Sangster.

BLESSINGS NEAR AT HAND

We look too far for blessings;
We seek too far for joys;
We ought to be like children
Who find their chiefest toys

Ofttimes in nearest attic,
Or in some dingy lane--
Their aprons full of weeds or flowers
Gathered in sun or rain.

Within the plainest cottage
Unselfish love may grow;
The sweetest, the divinest gift,
Which mortals ever know.

We ought to count our joys, not woes;
Meet care with winsome grace;
For discontent plows furrows
Upon the loveliest face.

Hope, freedom, sunlight, knowledge,
Come not to wealth alone;
He who looks far for blessings
Will overlook his own.

--Sarah Knowles Bolton.

I WOULDN'T

A sprig of mint by the wayward brook,
A nibble of birch in the wood,