A Thanksgiving to God for His House 3467 A THANKSGIVING TO GOD FOR HIS HOUSE A little house, whose humble roof Under the spars of which I lie Where Thou, my chamber for to ward, Of harmless thoughts, to watch and keep Low is my porch, as is my fate; And yet the threshold of my door Who thither come, and freely get Like as my parlor, so my hall A little buttery, and therein Which keeps my little loaf of bread Some brittle sticks of thorn or briar Close by whose living coal I sit, Lord, I confess too, when I dine, And all those other bits that be There placed by Thee: The worts, the purslain, and the mess Which of Thy kindness Thou hast sent; Makes those, and my beloved beet, To be more sweet. 'Tis Thou that crown'st my glittering hearth And giv'st me wassail bowls to drink, Lord, 'tis Thy plenty-dropping hand And giv'st me, for my bushel sown, Thou mak'st my teeming hen to lay Besides, my healthful ewes to bear The while the conduits of my kine All these, and better, Thou dost send That I should render, for my part, Which, fired with incense, I resign, -But the acceptance, that must be, My Christ, by Thee. Robert Herrick [1591-1674] THE SHEPHERD BOY SINGS IN THE VALLEY OF HUMILIATION From "The Pilgrim's Progress " He that is down needs fear no fall, He that is low, no pride; He that is humble ever shall Have God to be his guide. I am content with what I have, And, Lord, contentment still I crave, Because Thou savest such. Fullness to such a burden is That go on pilgrimage: Is best from age to age. John Bunyan [1628-1688] "The Bird, Let Loose in Eastern Skies" 3469 THE PILGRIM From "The Pilgrim's Progress" WHO would true valor see, Come wind, come weather; Whoso beset him round His strength the more is. No lion can him fright; But he will have a right Hobgoblin, nor foul fiend, He'll not fear what men say; He'll labor, night and day, To be a Pilgrim. John Bunyan [1628-1688] "THE BIRD, LET LOOSE IN EASTERN SKIES" THE bird, let loose in eastern skies, When hastening fondly home, Ne'er stoops to earth her wing, nor flies Where idle warblers roam; But high she shoots through air and light, Where nothing earthly bounds her flight, So grant me, God! from every care Aloft, through virtue's purer air, Thy freedom in her wings! Thomas Moore [1779-1852] "HE LIVETH LONG WHO LIVETH WELL” HE liveth long who liveth well! He liveth longest who can tell Of living most for heavenly gain. He liveth long who liveth well! He liveth longest who can tell Of true things truly done each day. Waste not thy being; back to Him Be what thou seemest! liye thy creed! Fill up each hour with what will last; Is the ripe fruit of life below. How We Learn Sow truth, if thou the truth wouldst reap: Sow love, and taste its fruitage pure; 3471 Horatius Bonar [1808-1889] THE MASTER'S TOUCH IN the still air the music lies unheard; The master's touch, the sculptor's chisel keen. Great Master, touch us with thy skilful hand; Spare not the stroke! do with us as thou wilt! Horatius Bonar [1808-1889] HOW WE LEARN GREAT truths are dearly bought. The common truth, Such as men give and take from day to day, Comes in the common walks of easy life, Blown by the careless wind across our way. Bought in the market, at the current price, It tells no tale of daring or of worth, Nor pierces even the surface of a soul. |