I have a heritage of joy
That yet I must not see;
But the hand that bled to make it mine
Is keeping it for me.
There is a certainty of love
That sets my heart at rest,-
A calm assurance for to-day
That to be poor is best,—
A prayer reposing on His truth
Who hath made all things mine,
That draws my captive will to Him,
And makes it one with Thine.
I will give thanks for suffering now,
For want and toil and loss,-
For the death that sin makes hard and slow,
Upon my Saviour's cross,-
Thanks for the little spring of love
That gives me strength to say,
If they will leave me part in Him,
Let all things pass away.
Sometimes I long for promised bliss,
But it will not come too late,—
And the songs of patient spirits rise
From the place wherein I wait;
While in the faith that makes no haste,
My soul has time to see
A kneeling host of Thy redeemed
In fellowship with me.
There is a multitude around,
Responsive to my prayer;
I hear the voice of my desire
Resounding everywhere.
But the earnest of eternal joy
every prayer I trace;
I see the glory of the Lord
On every chastened face.
How oft, in still communion known,
Those spirits have been sent
To share the travail of my soul,
Or show me what it meant !
And I long to do some work of love,
No spoiling hand could touch,
For the poor and suffering of Thy flock,
Who comfort me so much.
But the yearning thought is mingled now
With the thankful song I sing;
For Thy people know the secret source
Of every precious thing.
The heart that ministers for Thee
In Thy own work will rest;
And the subject spirit of a child
Can serve Thy children best.
Mine be the reverent, listening love
That waits all day on Thee,
With the service of a watchful heart
Which no one else can see,--
The faith that, in a hidden way
No other eye may know,
Finds all its daily work prepared,
And loves to have it so
My heart is resting, O my God,
My heart is in Thy care:
I hear the voice of joy and health
Resounding everywhere.
"Thou art my portion," saith my soul,
Ten thousand voices say,
And the music of their glad Amen
Will never die away.
"I will allure her, and bring her into the wilderness, and speak comfortably unto her. And I will give her her vineyards from thence, and the valley of Achor for a door of hope; and she shall sing there."--HOSEA ii. 14, 15.
"I know, O Lord, that Thy judgments are right, and thou in faithfulness hast afflicted me."--PSALM cxix. 75.
I WILL love Thee, O Lord, my strength,-
Thee shall my rescued heart embrace;
Thy love, in all its breadth and length,
Shall be my peaceful dwelling-place.
Whom have I on the earth beside?
Thy cross, Thy crown of thorns I see;
Thou who to save my life hast died,
I will have fellowship with Thee.
Surely Thy human heart has borne
My greatest grief, my least distress,-
Surely I see my Saviour mourn
With the bowed spirit He will bless.
Nailed to Thy cross, I would not fly
The pain it grieves Thy soul to give:
If because Thou hast died I die,
Because Thou livest I shall live.
How could a moment's pang destroy My heart's confirmed repose in Thee? Thy presence is sufficient joy
To one reclaimed and spared like me. It is enough that I am Thine:
Almighty to redeem from sin, Thou shalt subdue, correct, refine,
The heart which Thou hast died to win.
Now, through this light and passing pain,
The travail of Thy soul I see:
I know Thou hast not borne in vain
The mortal anguish due to me.
Thoughts of a love unfelt before
In comfort on my heart descend:
This suffering must have cost Thee more
Than I can ever comprehend.
Yet, through a sacred sympathy,
I of Thy precious death partake!
I feel my fellowship with Thee,
And with the Father for Thy sake.
I see the source of all Thy woe,
Thy resurrection's power I feel,-
And streams of living water flow*
Through the dry desert where I kneel.
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