So, to the hills, with earnest gaze,
I ever turn in wordless prayer;
Thou leavest not in valley dim,
The soul who trusts thy promised care.
I ever turn in wordless prayer;
Thou leavest not in valley dim,
The soul who trusts thy promised care.
MOSAIC
Ah, yes! fit name this life to give, for many-hued it seems,
As, piece by piece, the pattern grows, though we dream idle dreams;
Of broken bits I dare not tell—those missing, dull, defaced;
'Twere best to note the brighter side, in wondrous pattern traced.
As, piece by piece, the pattern grows, though we dream idle dreams;
Of broken bits I dare not tell—those missing, dull, defaced;
'Twere best to note the brighter side, in wondrous pattern traced.
To human sight, in like array, the crowd oft flitteth by,
Yet Love divine, as precious gems, some fragments can espy;
Their beauty, painted by the soul, rejoiceth with its power,
Tile while, across our thorny path, they glow as brilliant flower.
Yet Love divine, as precious gems, some fragments can espy;
Their beauty, painted by the soul, rejoiceth with its power,
Tile while, across our thorny path, they glow as brilliant flower.
Perchance, in somber shade, we see a brave, yet rugged soul!
Such, as we gaze, new strength impart, for pressing toward the goal,
The hand of God doth fashion some, in forms no eye may see,
"So incomplete," we say,—to Him, so rich in ministry.
Such, as we gaze, new strength impart, for pressing toward the goal,
The hand of God doth fashion some, in forms no eye may see,
"So incomplete," we say,—to Him, so rich in ministry.
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