154
POEMS BY CLARA A. MERRILL
While others there are From near and afar Who by "sweat of the brow" earn their bread; And 'tis very sweet To those who may eat Who by their own efforts are fed.
As God made the rich And poor alike which Will be guarded and led not astray? And which, do you ween, Will wear the bright sheen When they get to the end of the way?
To some he sends woe— We know not why 'tis so—But he chasteneth all more or less; Where sorrow and strife And burdens are rife, These will He especially bless.
When o'er trials we sigh To Him we should fly Who doeth all things for the best; When comes the release There'll be eternal peace In that beautiful Haven of Rest.
