In his lovo I rest;
For wliato'er my father doeth
3 1 ut bo Hi ways host.
Well I know tho heart that planneta
Nought but good for mo;
Joy and sorrow Interwoven,
bote in all I see.
Precious thought, my father knoweth,
Careth for his child;
Wits mo nastlo closer to him
When tho storms U-at wild.
Though mr earthly hopes aro shattered.
Anil tho teardrops fall.
Yet ho Is himself my sohtco.
Yea, my "ull la all." ,
Sweet to tell hbn all ho knoweth.
Roll on him thu care.
Cost upon himself the burdeu
That I cannot bear.
Then wit'.iont 11 care oppressing,
Simply to lie still,
Giving thanks tohlai for all thins.
Since It is his will.
Oh, to trust him then more fully.'
Just to simply moto
In the conscious, calm enjoyment
Or the father's love.
Knowing lhat life's checkered iwthwajr
Ieatleth to his rest.
S&tbned tho wny ho taketH
Mast, bo ahruys best.
-L. W. la Ckridtlu Herald.
.vf"
n
;
u.
