3 That man shall flourish like the trees Which by the streamlets grow; The fruitful top is spread on high, And firm the root below. 4 But he whose blossom buds in guilt Shall to the ground be cast, And, like the rootless stubble, tossed Before the sweeping blast. 414. L. M. Keble. "Not that thou wouldst take them out of the world, but keep them from its evil." 1 Sweet is the bliss of souls serene, When they have sworn and steadfast mean, Counting the cost, in all t' espy Their God, in all themselves deny. 2 O could we learn that sacrifice, What lights would all around us rise! How would our hearts with wisdom talk, Along life's dullest, dreariest walk! 3 We need not bid, for cloistered cell, Our neighbor and our work farewell, Nor strive to wind ourselves too high For sinful man beneath the sky: 4 The trivial round, the common task, Would furnish all we ought to ask; Room to deny ourselves; a road To bring us, daily, nearer God. 415. 7s. & 6s. M. Cowper. Joy and Peace in Believing. 1 Sometimes a light surprises The Christian while he sings: It is the Lord, who rises With healing in his wings: When comforts are declining, He grants the soul again A season of clear shining, To cheer it after rain. 2 In holy contemplation, We sweetly then pursue The theme of God's salvation, And find it ever new: Set free from present sorrow, We cheerfully can say, "E'en let the unknown morrow Bring with it what it may." 3 It can bring with it nothing, But he will bear us through: Who gives the lilies clothing, Will clothe his people too: Beneath the spreading heavens, No creature but is fed; And he who feeds the ravens, Will give his children bread. 4 Though vine, nor fig tree neither, Its wonted fruit should bear; Though all the field should wither, Nor flocks, nor herds be there: Yet God the same abiding, His praise shall tune my voice; For while in him confiding, I cannot but rejoice. 416. S. M. Anonymous. For a Right Spirit. 1 I want a sober mind, A self-renouncing will, That tramples down and casts behind The baits of pleasing ill; A soul inured to pain, To hardship, grief and loss, Bold to take up, firm to sustain The consecrated cross. 2 I want a godly fear, A quick-discerning eye, That looks to thee when sin is near, And sees the tempter fly; A spirit still prepared, And armed with jealous care, Forever standing on its guard, And watching unto prayer.