"So when at last our weary days
Are well-nigh wasted here,
And we can trace Thy wondrous ways
In distance calm and clear,
"When in Thy love and Israel's sin
We read our story true,
We may not, all too late, begin
To wish our hopes were new.
"Long loved, long tried, long spared as they,
Unlike in this alone,
That, by Thy grace, our hearts shall stay
For evermore Thine own."
NINETEENTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY
Then Nebuchadnezzar the king was astonished, and rose up in haste,
and spake, and said unto his counsellors, Did not we cast three men
bound into the midst of the fire? They answered and said unto the
king, True, O king. He answered and said, Lo, I see four men
loose, walking in the midst of the fire, and they have no hurt; and
the form of the fourth is like the Son of God. Daniel iii. 24, 25.
When Persecution's torrent blaze
Wraps the unshrinking Martyr's head;
When fade all earthly flowers and bays,
When summer friends are gone and fled,
Is he alone in that dark hour
Who owns the Lord of love and power?
Or waves there not around his brow
A wand no human arm may wield,
Fraught with a spell no angels know,
His steps to guide, his soul to shield?
Thou, Saviour, art his Charmed Bower,
His Magic Ring, his Rock, his Tower.
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