1 Beneath the thick but struggling clouds, We talk of Christian life; The words of Jesus on our lips, Our hearts with man at strife. 2 Traditions, forms, and selfish aims, Have dimmed the inner light; Have closely veiled the spirit-world And angels from our sight. 3 Strong souls and willing hands we need, Our temple to repair; Remove the gathering dust of years, And show the model fair. 4 We slumber while the present calls, But darkness grows with rest; Wouldst thou see truth? To action wake,-- Do the divine behest. 296. P. M. Anonymous. Heaven on Earth. 1 This world is not a fleeting show, For man's illusion given; He that hath soothed a widow's woe, Or wiped an orphan's tear, doth know There's something here of heaven. 2 And he who walks life's thorny way With feelings calm and even, Whose path is lit, from day to day, By virtue's bright and steady ray, Feels something here of heaven. 3 He that the Christian course hath run, And all his foes forgiven, Hath measured out this life's short span In love to God and love to man, On earth has tasted heaven. 297. C. H. M. Barton. Blessed Are Ye That Sow Beside All Waters. 1 O, be not faithless! with the morn Cast thou abroad thy grain! At noontide faint not thou forlorn, At evening sow again! Blessed are they, whate'er betide, Who thus all waters sow beside. 2 Thou knowest not which seed shall grow, Or which may die, or live; In faith, and hope, and patience, sow! The increase God shall give, According to His gracious will,-- As best his purpose may fulfil. 3 O, could our inward eye but view, Our hearts but feel aright, What faith, and love, and hope, can do, By their celestial might, We should not say, till these be dead, The power of miracle is fled. 298. 10s. M. Mrs. Case. Love On! 1 Love on! love on! but not the things that own The fleeting beauty of a summer day; Truth, virtue, spring from God's eternal throne, Nor quit the spirit when it leaves the clay: Love them! love them! 2 Love on! love on! though death and earthly change Bring mournful silence to a darkened home; Still let the heart rest where no eye grows strange, Where never falls a shadow from the tomb: Love there! love there! 3 Love on! love on! the voice of grief and wrong Comes from the palace and the poor man's cot; Bid the proud bend, and bid the weak be strong, And life's tired pilgrim meekly bear his lot: Give strength! give peace!