And can it be, my God! that Thou, ere long wilt stoop
To praise Thy purchased ones—and publicly announce,
To gazing, wondering multitudes, that this poor deed
Was done for Thee,—that act of self-renouncing love,
Observed by none down here—that quiet patient course,
Of waiting on the Lord, though earth and hell opposed?
All these Thine eye doth see, Thy loving heart approve;
And Thou dost deem them worth a record, in the book
Of Thy remembrance—worth rewarding in that day,
When we must all appear before the judgment-seat,
When that glad word “Well done” shall greet the raptured ear
Of many a one whose spirit here was wounded oft,—
Whose words and deeds had oft been misinterpreted,—
By bosom friends, by brothers, not by foes alone.
E’en now, the sense that Thine all-searching eye looks on,
Gives rest to weary hearts, and strength to faltering steps.
What will it be to have Thy welcome and Thy praise!
To adore the grace which kept in sore temptation’s hour!
And, with full heart, to give the glory all to Thee!
Surely that joyful day will recompense for all!
The ocean crossed—the haven reached—at home with Thee!
Ο! Father God! ‘tis sweet to know Thy watchful eye
Is ever on Thy children’s path—Thy loving arm
Upholds the feeble ones. Help us to lean on Thee,
And still to trust Thy guidance and Thy faithfulness;—
Not reckon on results,—but simply to obey;—
Having the mind of Him who came down here to do
His Father’s will—who trod the path of suffering,
That He might know to sympathize with aching hearts—
To succor tempted souls—who drank the cup of wrath
For us,—that we might share His glory and His throne.
M. A. L