or thee, thine enemies o'erthrow,
And in thy strength to vanquish every foe.

"The harvest-fields spread out before me lie,
The reapers toward me look, and vainly cry--
'The field is white, the laborers are few;
Our Lord's command is also sent to you,'"

My child, it is a sweet and blessed thing
To rest beneath the shadow of my wing;
To feel thy doings and thy words are naught,
To trust to me each restless, longing thought.

"Dear Lord, help me this lesson sweet to learn,
To sit at thy pierced feet and only yearn
To love thee better, Lord, and feel that still
Waiting is working, if it be thy will."

THE QUIET MIND

I have a treasure which I prize;
The like I cannot find;
There's nothing like it in the earth:
It is a quiet mind.

But 'tis not that I'm stupefied,
Or senseless, dull, or blind:
'Tis God's own peace within my soul
Which forms my quiet mind.

I found this treasure at the Cross.
'Tis there to every kind
Of heavy-laden, weary souls
Christ gives a quiet mind.

My Saviour's death and risen life
To give this were designed;
And that's the root and that's the branch,
Of this my quiet mind.

The love of God within my heart
My heart to his doth bind;
This is the mind of heaven on earth;
This is my quiet mind.

I've many a cross to take up now,
And many left behind;
But present trials move me not,
Nor shake my quiet mind.

And what may be to-morrow's cross
I never seek to find;
My Saviour says, Leave that to Me,
And keep a quiet mind.

And well I know the Lord hath said,
To make my heart resigned,
That mercy still shall follow such
As have this quiet mind.

I meet with pride of wit and wealth,
And scorn and looks unkind,
It matters naught: I envy not,
For I've a quiet mind.

I'm waiting now to see the Lord,
Who's been to me so kind:
I want to thank him face to face
For this my quiet mind.

MY HEART IS RESTING

My heart is resting, O my God;
I will give thanks and sing:
My heart is at the secret source
Of every precious thing.

Now the frail vessel Thou hast made
No hand but thine shall fill--
The waters of the earth have failed,
And I am thirsty still.

I thirst for springs of hea