POETRY.

Globe, Volume XXIII, Issue 2386, 25 November 1881, Page 4

POETRY.

HE GIVETH HIS BELOYED SLEEP. Ha sees when their footsteps falter, when their hearts grow weak and faint; He marks when their strength is failing, and listens to each complaint; He bids them rest for a season, for the pathway has grown too steep. And, folded in fair, green pastures, Ho givoth Hie beloved sleep. Like weary and worn out children, that sigh for the daylight’s close, He knows that they oit are longing for homo and the sweet repose ; So He calls them in from their labors, ere tho shadows round them creep, And silently watching o’er them, He giveth His loved ones sleep. Ho giveth it, oh, so gently ! as a mother will hush to rest Tho babe that she softly pillows so tenderly on her breast. Forgotten are now tho trials and sorrows that made them weep, For with many a soothing promise He giveth his loved ones sleep. He giveth it! Friends tho dearest can never this boon bestow; But He touches the drooping eyelids, and placid the features grow ! Thoir foes may gather about them, and storms may round them sweep. But, guarding them safe from danger, He giveth His loved ones sleep. All dread of tho distant future, all fears that oppress to day, Like mists that clear in the sunlight, have noiselessly passed away, No call or clamor can rouse thorn from slumbers as pure and deep, For only His voice can reach them Who givoth his loved ones sleep. Weep not that their toils are over ; weep not that thoir race is run ; God grant wo may rest as calmly, when our work, like theirs, is done. Till then we would yield with gladness our treasures to Him to keep, And rejoice in the sweet assurance— He giveth His loved ones deep.