If Fortune, with a smiling face, Strew roses in our way, When shall we stoop to pick them up?-- To-day, my friend, to-day. But should she frown with face of care And talk of coming sorrow, When shall we grieve, if grieve we must?-- To-morrow, friend, to-morrow. If those who've wronged us own their faults And kindly pity pray, When shall we listen and forgive?-- To-day, my friend, to-day. But if stern Justice urge rebuke, And warmth from memory borrow, When shall we chide, if chide we dare?-- To-morrow, friend, to-morrow. For virtuous acts and harmless joys The minutes will not stay; We've always time to welcome them To-day, my friend, to-day. But care, resentment, angry words, And unavailing sorrow, Come far too soon, if they appear To-morrow, friend, to-morrow. {464} STILL WITH THEE Still, still with Thee, my God, I would desire to be, By day, by night, at home, abroad, I would be still with Thee. With Thee when dawn comes in, And calls me back to care, Each day returning to begin With Thee, my God, in prayer. With Thee amid the crowd That throngs the busy mart, To hear Thy voice, 'mid clamor loud, Speak softly to my heart. With Thee when day is done, And evening calms the mind; The setting, as the rising, sun With Thee my heart would find. With Thee when darkness brings The signal of repose, Calm in the shadow of Thy wings Mine eyelids I would close. With Thee, in Thee, by faith Abiding I would be; By day, by night, in life, in death, I would be still with Thee. --_James Drummond Burns_. {465}{466} [Illustration] THE LIGHT OF THE WORLD By William Holman Hunt (1827-1910) The original of this famous picture is owned by Keble College, Oxford, and is hung in a small room adjoining the chapel. "The legend beneath it is the beautiful verse--'Behold I stand at the door and knock. If any man hear my voice, and open the door, I will come in to him, and will sup with him, and he with me.' REV. iii. 26. On the left-hand side of the picture is seen this door of the human soul. It is fast barred; its bars and nails are rusty; it is knitted and bound to its stanchions by creeping tendrils of ivy, shewing that it has never been opened. A bat hovers about it; its threshold is overgrown with brambles, nettles, and fruitless corn,--the wild grass, 'whereof the mower filleth not his hand, nor he that bindeth the sheaves his bosom.' Christ approaches it in the night-time,--Christ, in his everlasting offices, of Prophet, Priest, and King. He wears the white robe, representing the power of the Spirit upon him; the jeweled robe and breastplate, representing the sacerdotal investiture; the rayed crown of gold, inwoven with the crown of thorns; not dead thorns, but now bearing soft leaves, for the healing of the nations.