O Jesus, merciful and kind, The sad and sinful seek thy breast; Our souls in thee their solace find,-- Our refuge thou, our only rest. The goal is sure, O Guide divine! Again the stars of morning sing; All wills, all worlds, at last are thine, O Christ, Creator, Saviour, King! ALL SAINTS. Ten thousand times ten thousand,-- Their shining ranks I see! With robes of light resplendent, And palms of victory! The crowns they wear are golden, And gemmed with jewels rare,-- Fair guerdon of the glory They with their Saviour share. Their home--the holy city, Within whose ageless walls No shade of sin, or sickness, Or sorrow, ever falls; For _He_ is ever with them, The Lamb, their life, their light,-- The joy of all the ransomed, The saints’ supreme delight. Dear vision of the blessèd-- How homelike heaven seems! Sweet foretaste of the rapture Exceeding all our dreams. O Jesus, Shepherd, Saviour, My guide and guardian be, And bring me, through thy favor, To dwell with them and thee. OUR LIFE IS LENT. Our life is Lent: Our years are spent In penance for the past; Our songs are sighs, Our brightest skies With clouds are overcast. Our life is Lent: The old lament-- “All, all is vanity;” And Youth, in tears, Awaits with fears The morrow’s mystery. Our life is Lent: Lord, we repent Each folly, fault, and fall; Our best resolve Do thou absolve,-- Forgive, forget it all. Our life is Lent: Our hearts are rent, As we thy gifts recount, And mark again, With bitter pain, “The pattern in the mount.” Our life is Lent: Our strength is spent; O holy Judge, and just, Receive our prayer,-- Poor sinners spare; Remember we are dust! Our life is Lent: But Jesus went This way; in him confide; ’Twill soon be past; Then, for thy fast, _Eternal Easter-tide!_ IT DOTH NOT YET APPEAR. “It doth not yet appear what we shall be;” The goal, the crown, but dimly we discern,-- For evermore from sin and sorrow free, In that blest world for which we often yearn. “It doth not yet appear what we shall be;” Eye hath not seen, nor was it ever told-- The height of honor we shall share with Thee, Enthroned in light and rapture manifold. “It doth not yet appear what we shall be,”-- Redeemed from death and glorified above; Enough, dear Lord, that we shall be like thee, In that eternal life of cloudless love. THE RAINBOW ROUND THE THRONE. The sunshine and the shadow--alternately they flow Across the fields of ether, across our hearts below; The gloom and glory blending in beauty manifold, The mists of morning ending in evening’s gates of gold.