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Hawke's Bay Times, Volume 19, Issue 1221, 13 January 1872, Page 2

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THE ETERNAL GOODNESS. 0 friends, with whom my feet have trod The quiet aisles of prayer, ( Glad witness to yonr zeal for God And love of man, I bear. 1 trace yonr lines of argument, Your logic linked and strong; I vveigli as one who dreads dissent And fears a doubt as wrong. But still my human hands are weak To hold your iron creeds ; Against the words you bid me speak My heart within me pleads. Who fathoms the Eternal Thought ? Who talks of scheme and plan ? The Lord is God ! needeth not The poor device of man. I walk with bare, hushed feet, the ground; Ye tread with boldness shod ; I dare not fix with mete and bound The love and power of Gop. More than your schoolmen teach, within, Myself, alas ! I know; Too dark ye cannot paint the sin, Too small the merit show. I bow my forehead to the dust; I veil mine eyes for shame; And urge, in trembling self-distrust, A prayer without a claim. I see the wrong that round me lies; I feel the guilt within.; I hear, with groan and travail cries, The world confess its sin. Yet, in the maddening maze of things, And tossed by storm and flgod, To one fixed stake my spirit clings—. I know that God is good ! Not mine to look where cherubim And seraphs may not see; But nothing can be good in Him Which evil is in me. The wrong that pains my soul below: I dare, not throne above; I know not of His hate —I know His Goodness and His Love. I dimly guess from blessings known. Of greater out of sight; And with the chastened Psalmist, own. His judgments, too, are right; I long for household voices gone, Por vanished smiles I long ; But God hath led my dear ones on, And He can do. no. wrong. I know not what the future hath Of marvel or surprise ; Assured alone that life or death His Mercy underlies. And if my heart and flesh be weak To bear an untried paiu, The bruised reed He will not break, But strengthen and sustain. No offering of my own I have, Nor works my faith to prove; I can but giye the gifts He gave, And plead His Love for love. And so, beside the Silent Sea, I wait the muffled oar; No harm from Hjm can come to roe. On ocean or on shore. I know not where His Islands lift Their fronded palms in air ; I only know I cannot drift Beyond His Love and Care. 0 brothers! if my faith is vain— If hopes like these betray— Pray for me that my feet may gain The sate and surer way. And Thou, 0 Lord ! by Whom are seen. Thy creatures as they be, Porgive me if too close. I lean My human heart o_u Thee ! J. G. Whittiek,