(Ex. XX. 24).

O that Thou wouldst bless me indeed (1 Chron. 4:10).

'Lie still, my child, thou needest this quiet rest,
Nay, fret not at the hand that laid thee here;
For I have purposed that thou shalt be blest,
To Me thou art dear.
I know thy service, fraught with love, and prayer,
But come with Me apart;
I'll rest thee, strengthen thee, and banish care,
And overflow thy heart.

Just leave these broken threads of toil to Me,
I've marked thy deep desire, and fervent call;
And every burden thou hast borne for Me,
I know it all.
But just this little while I crave thy heart,
In shadowed quietness;
From every earthly heart and voice apart,
That I may richly bless.

I love My "servant," and thy service well,
And long with that "well done," thy work to crown;
And face to face My joy in thee to tell,
My love to own.
This seeming cloud which cross thy path doth run,
'Tis but My loving hand;
To shield thy head, thy feet, from burning sun,
And glaring desert sand.

No cloud can cover thee, but I am there,-
Thy sorrows, trials, griefs, and joys are Mine;
Thy loved ones too, are My unceasing care,
And all that's thine.
This seemingly untimely break will hold-
(Tho' now it seem but pain.)
Some hidden treasure purchased not with gold,
Some deep eternal gain.

If on thy willing hands, I've laid Mine own,
A little while, to rest, and keep them still-
To teach thee better than thou'st ever known,
To do My will-
Then rest, with Me, it will not be for long,
And in eternity
Thou'lt sing a deeper, sweeter, fuller song,
Of praise, than else could be.

H. McD.

Plainfield, Feb. 12th 1901.