be truly alive.

Knowing Thou needest this form, as I thy divine inspiration,
Knowing thou shapest the clay with a vision and purpose divine,
So would I answer each touch of thy hand in its loving creation,
That in my conscious life thy power and beauty may shine.

Reflecting the noble intent Thou hast in forming thy creatures;
Waking from sense into life of the soul, and the image of thee;
Working with thee in thy work to model humanity's features
Into the likeness of God, myself from myself I would free.

One with all human existence, no one above or below me;
Lit by Thy wisdom and love, as roses are steeped in the morn;
Growing from clay to a statue, from statue to flesh, till thou know me
Wrought into manhood celestial, and in thine image reborn.

So in thy love will I trust, bringing me sooner or later
Past the dark screen that divides these shows of the finite from
Thee.
Thine, thine only, this warm dear life, O loving Creator!
Thine the invisible future, born of the present, must be.

--Christopher Pearse Cranch.

ON THEE MY HEART IS RESTING

On Thee my heart is resting:
Ah! this is rest indeed!
What else, Almighty Saviour,
Can a poor sinner need?
Thy light is all my wisdom,
Thy love is all my stay;
Our Father's home in glory
Draws nearer every day.

Great is my guilt, but greater
The mercy Thou dost give;
Thyself, a spotless offering,
Hast died that I should live.
With Thee my soul unfettered
Has risen from the dust;
Thy blood is all my treasure;
Thy word is all my trust.

Through me, thou gentle Master,
Thy purposes fulfill:
I yield myself forever
To thy most holy will.
What though I be but weakness
My strength is not in me;
The poorest of thy people
Has all things, having Thee.

When clouds are darkest round me,
Thou, Lord, art then most near,
My drooping faith to quicken,
My weary soul to cheer.
Safe nestling in thy bosom,
I gaze upon thy face.
In vain my foes would drive me
From Thee, my hiding-place.

'Tis Thou hast made me happy;
'Tis thou hast set me free.
To whom shall I give glory
Forever but to Thee!
Of earthly love and blessing
Should every stream run dry,
Thy grace shall still be with