Select Poetry.

Hawke's Bay Times, Volume 7, Issue 364, 5 April 1866, Page 1

Select Poetry.

PATIENCE.

G?j GENTLE angol vrendeth f£V Throughout this world of wofij ■Whom God in mercy scndeth To comfort us below. Her looks a peace abiding And holy love proclaim; Oh. follow, then, her guiding—* Sweet Patience is her name. She leads us through this tearful And sorrow-stricken laud, And speaks, resigned and cheerful Of better days at band; And when thou art despairing, She bids thee clear thy brow. Herself thy burden sharing, More hopeful far than thou. Bhe (sobers into sadness Thy grief’s excessive smart. And steeps in peace the madness And tumult of the heart. The darkest hour she maketh As bright as sun at noon. And heals each wound that achoth Pull surely, if not soon. Thy falling tears she chides not. But pours in healing balm; Thy longing she derides not, But makes devout and calm: And when in stormy seasons Thou askest, murmuring, "Why ? She giveth thee no reasons, But smiling points on high. To every doubt aud question She" cares not to reply; “ Bear on,” is her suggestion, “Thy resting-place is nigh. 1 * Thus by thy side she walketh, A true and constant friend. Not overmuch she talketh, But thinks, “ 0 happy end I” —The Appeal.