Know, my soul, thy full salvation; Rise o'er sin, and fear, and care; Joy to find in every station Something still to do or bear. Think what Spirit dwells within thee; What a Father's smile is thine; What a Saviour died to win thee: Child of heaven, shouldst thou repine? Haste thee on from grace to glory, Armed by faith, and winged by prayer; Heaven's eternal day's before thee, God's own hand shall guide thee there. Soon shall close thy earthly mission, Swift shall pass thy pilgrim days, Hope shall change to glad fruition, Faith to sight, and prayer to praise. --Henry F. Lyte. CHOOSE THOU Thy way, not mine, O Lord! However dark it be; Lead me by Thine own hand, Choose out the path for me. Smooth let it be, or rough, It will be still the best; Winding or straight it matters not, It leads me to Thy rest. I dare not choose my lot, I would not if I might; Choose Thou for me, O God! So shall I walk aright. The kingdom that I seek Is Thine; so let the way That leads to it be thine Else I must surely stray. Take Thou my cup, and it With joy or sorrow fill; As best to Thee may seem; Choose Thou my good or ill. Choose Thou for me my friends My sickness or my health; Choose thou my cares for me, My poverty or wealth. Not mine, not mine the choice In things or great or small; Be Thou my guide, my strength, My wisdom and my all. --Horatius Bonar. ONLY TO-DAY Only to-day is mine, And that I owe to Thee; Help me to make it thine; As pure as it may be; Let it see something done, Let it see something won, Then at the setting sun I'll give it back to thee. What if I cannot tell The cares the day may bring? I know that I shall dwell Beneath Thy sheltering wing; And there the load is light; And there the dark is bright, And weakness turns to might, And so I trust and sing. What shall I ask to-day? Naught but Thine own sweet will; The windings of the way Lead to thy holy hill; And whether here or there Why should I fear or care? Thy heavens are everywhere, And they are o'er me still. Give me Thyself to-day, I dare not walk alone; Speak to me by the way, And "all things are my own"; The treasures of thy grace, The secret hiding place, The vision of thy face, The shadow of thy throne! --Henry Burton. THE OFFERING No more my own, Lord Jesus, Bought with thy precious blood, I give thee but thine own, Lord, That long thy love withstood. I give the life thou gavest, My present, future, past; My joys, my fears, my sorrows, My first hope and my last.