e limitless eternal spaces
Thou shouldest, in the high and heavenly
places,
Pass over my affairs as things of nought.
There are so many houses just like mine.
And I so earth-bound, and Thyself Divine.
It seems impossible that Thou shouldst
care
Just what my babies wear;
And what John gets to eat; . . . and
can it be
A circumstance of great concern to Thee
Whether I live or die?

Have you forgotten then, My child, that I,
The Infinite, the Limitless, laid down
The method of existence that I knew,
And took on Me a nature just like you?
I laboured day by day
In the same dogged way
That you have tackled household tasks.
And then,
Remember, child, remember once again
Your own beloveds . . . did you really
think--
(Those days you toiled to get their meat
and drink,
And made their clothes, and tried to under-
stand
Their little ailments)--did you think your
hand,
Your feeble hand, was keeping them from ill?
I gave them life, and life is more than meat;
Those little limbs, so comely and so sweet.
You can make raiment for them, and are glad,
But can you add
One cubit to their stature? Yet they grow!
Oh, child, hands off! Hands off! And
leave them so.
I guarded hitherto, I guard them still.

I have let go at last. I have let go.
And, oh, the rest it is, dear God, to know
My dear ones are so safe, for Thou wilt
keep.
Hands off, at last! Now, I can go to
sleep.

In Convalescence

Not long ago, I prayed for dying
grace,
For then I thought to see Thee face to
face.

And now I ask (Lord, 'tis a weakling's
cry)
That Thou wilt give me grace to live, not
die.

Such foolish prayers! I know. Yet
pray I must.
Lord help me--help me not to see the
dust!

And not to nag, nor fret because the blind
Hangs crooked, and the curtain sags be-
hind.

But, oh! The kitchen cupboards! What a
sight!
'T'will take at least a month to get them
right.

And that last cocoa had a smoky taste,
And all the milk has boiled away to waste!

And--no, I resolutely will not think
About the sau