"Despise not thou the chastening of the Lord, nor faint when thou art rebuked of Him." (Heb. 12:5.)

Under Thy rod, O my God,
I My soul would meekly bow;
Yet it is naught that I have sought
Which brings me down so low..
But souls expand beneath Thy hand,
And while they suffer, grow.

Under Thy rod, O my God,
do not bow in vain ;
For though I weep, I surely reap
Treasures of golden gain ;
And every one Thou callest "son"
Must bear correction's pain.

Under Thy rod, O my God,
Though sore the trial be,
I would not lose, if I might choose,
The look of love I see.
Father, I bless Thy faithfulness,
Proof of Thy love to me.

Under Thy rod, O my God,
Though clouds may intervene;
And all to me may seem to be
A strange distorted scene.
Yet I can trust:I know thereat just,
Though I know not what it mean.

Under the rod of Thy wrath, my God,
Once bowed in death for me,
The sinless One, Thy precious Son,
Stooped down and set me free.
Oh, wondrous grace ! most awful place !
Endured in love for me.

H. McD.

Plainfield, May, 1891.