Thou cam'st not to thy place by accident, It is the very place God meant for thee; And shouldst thou there small scope for action see Do not for this give room to discontent, Nor let the time thou owest God be spent In idle dreaming how thou mightest be, In what concerns thy spiritual life, more free From outward hindrance or impediment. For presently this hindrance thou shalt find That without which all goodness were a task So slight that virtue never could grow strong; And wouldst thou do one duty to His mind-- The Imposer's--over-burdened thou shalt ask, And own thy need of, grace to help ere long. --Richard Chenevix Trench. THE HAPPIEST HEART Who drives the horses of the sun Shall lord it but a day; Better the lowly deed were done, And kept the humble way. The rust will find the sword of fame, The dust will hide the crown; Aye, none shall nail so high his name Time will not tear it down. The happiest heart that ever beat Was in some quiet breast That found the common daylight sweet, And left to Heaven the rest. --John Vance Cheney. WELCOME THE SHADOWS Welcome the shadows; where they blackest are Burns through the bright supernal hour; From blindness of wide dark looks out the star, From all death's night the April flower. For beauty and for gladness of the days Bring but the meed of trust; The April grass looks up from barren ways, The daisy from the dust. When of this flurry thou shalt have thy fill, The thing thou seekest, it will seek thee then: The heavens repeat themselves in waters still And in the faces of contented men. --John Vance Cheney. THE DAILY COURSE New every morning is the love Our wakening and uprising prove; Through sleep and darkness safely brought, Restored to life, and power, and thought. New mercies each returning day Hover around us while we pray; New perils past, new sins forgiven, New thoughts of God, new hopes of heaven. If on our daily course our mind Be set to hallow all we find, New treasures still, of countless price, God will provide for sacrifice. Old friends, old scenes, will lovelier be As more of heaven in each we see; Some softening gleam of love and prayer Shall dawn on every cross and care. 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. The trivial round, the common task, Will furnish all we ought to ask: Room to deny ourselves a road To bring us daily nearer God. Seek we no more; content with these, Let present rapture, comfort, ease, As Heaven shall bid them, come and go; The secret, this, of rest below.