My heart shrinks back from trials Which the future may disclose, Yet I never had a sorrow But what the dear Lord chose; So I send the coming tears back With the whispered word, "He knows." --Mary Gardner Brainard. "Trust is truer than our fears," Runs the legend through the moss; "Gain is not in added years, Nor in death is loss." --John Greenleaf Whittier. CONFIDO ET CONQUIESCO Fret not, poor soul; while doubt and fear Disturb thy breast, The pitying angels, who can see How vain thy wild regret must be, Say, "Trust and Rest." Plan not, nor scheme, but calmly wait; His choice is best; While blind and erring is thy sight His wisdom sees and judges right; So Trust and Rest. Strive not, nor struggle; thy poor might Can never wrest The meanest thing to serve thy will; All power is his alone. Be still, And Trust and Rest. Desire thou not; self-love is strong Within thy breast, And yet he loves thee better still: So let him do his loving will, And Trust and Rest. What dost thou fear? His wisdom reigns Supreme confessed; His power is infinite; his love Thy deepest, fondest dreams above! So Trust and Rest. --Adelaide Anne Procter. BE CAREFUL FOR NOTHING My spirit on thy care, Blest Saviour, I recline; Thou wilt not leave me to despair, For thou art Love divine. In Thee I place my trust, On thee I calmly rest; I know thee good, I know thee just, And count thy choice the best. Whate'er events betide, Thy will they all perform; Safe in thy breast my head I hide, Nor fear the coming storm. Let good or ill befall, It must be good for me; Secure of having thee in all, Of having all in thee. --Henry F. Lyte. IN HIM CONFIDING Sometimes a light surprises The Christian while he sings; It is the Lord who rises With healing on his wings. When comforts are declining He grants the soul again A season of clear shining, To cheer it after rain. 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, Let the unknown to-morrow Bring with it what it may. 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. Though vine nor fig tree neither Their wonted fruit should bear, Though all the fields 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.