If joy, rebuke, or grief, or pain,
Thou sendest, Lord, 'tis all my gain;
For all things work for good to one
Who loveth God and His dear Son.

Each sorrow Thou hast sent to me
Has only drawn me nearer Thee-
The place where most I love to hide,
Blest Saviour, in Thy wounded side.

Each step of mine that was unmeet
Has only brought me to Thy feet,
To learn, by these my willful ways,
The deeper story of Thy grace.

Each joy Thou giv'st me by the way
But tells me of that glorious day
When joy unspeakable, divine,
Shall fill Thy heart as well as mine.

If there are those who love me here,
It whispers of a love more dear,
More deep, more infinitely blest,
Unmixed with sorrow, full of rest.

If anguish fill my breaking heart
When called from one I love, to part,
It does but loose me from this shore,
And makes me long for Thee the more.

So, Lord, whate'er my lot may be,
If only I may walk with Thee,
And talk with Thee along the way,
I'll praise Thee for it all, some day.

H. McD.

PLAINFIELD, July 15th, 1894.