d heart run them in.

--Robert Louis Stevenson.

I ASKED THE LORD THAT I MIGHT GROW

I asked the Lord that I might grow
In faith and love and every grace;
Might more of his salvation know,
And seek more earnestly his face.

'Twas He who taught me thus to pray,
And he, I trust, has answer'd prayer;
But it has been in such a way
As almost drove me to despair.

I hop'd that in some favor'd hour
At once he'd answer my request,
And by his love's constraining power
Subdue my sins and give me rest.

Instead of this he made me feel
The hidden evils of my heart,
And let the angry powers of hell
Assault my soul in ev'ry part.

Yes, more: with his own hand he seem'd
Intent to aggravate my woe,
Cross'd all the fair designs I schemed,
Blasted my gourds and laid them low.

"Lord, why is this?" I trembling cried;
"Wilt thou pursue thy worm to death?"
"'Tis in this way," the Lord replied,
"I answer prayer for grace and faith.

"These inward trials I employ
From self and pride to set thee free,
And break thy schemes of earthly joy
That thou mayest set thine all in me!"

--John Newton.

"THOU MAINTAINEST MY LOT"

Source of my life's refreshing springs,
Whose presence in my heart sustains me,
Thy love appoints me pleasant things,
Thy mercy orders all that pains me.

If loving hearts were never lonely,
If all they wished might always be,
Accepting what they look for only,
They might be glad--but not in thee.

Well may thy own beloved, who see
In all their lot their Father's pleasure,
Bear loss of all they love save thee,
Their living, everlasting treasure.

Well may thy happy children cease
From restless wishes, prone to sin,
And, in thine own exceeding peace,
Yield to thy daily discipline.

We need as much the cross we bear
As air we breathe, as light we see!
It draws us to thy side in prayer,
It binds us to our strength in thee.

--Anna Letitia Waring.

THE MASTER'S TOUCH

In the still air the music lies unheard;
In the rough marble beauty hides unseen;
To make the music and the beauty needs
The master's touch, the sculptor's chisel keen.

Great Master, touch us with thy skillful hand;
Let not the music that is i