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Sweet day, so cool, so calm, so bright,The bridal of the earth and sky.

O day of rest! How beautiful, how fair,How welcome to the weary and the old!Day of the Lord! and truce to earthly care!Day of the Lord, as all our days should be.

I hold, in truth, with him who singsTo one clear harp in divers tones,That men may rise on stepping-stonesOf their dead selves to higher things.

Less, less of self each day,And more, my God, of Thee!

Love so amazing, so Divine,Demands my soul, my life, my all.

The greatest truths are the simplest,And so are the greatest men.

He sows June fields with clover, and the worldBroadcasts with little common kindnesses.The plain good souls He sends us, who fulfillLife's homely duties in the daily pathWith cheerful heart, ambitious of no moreThan to supply the wants of friend and kin,Yet serve God's higher love to human hearts;Giving a secret sweetness to the home,The hidden fragrance of a kindly heart,The simple beauty of a useful life,That never dazzles, and that never tires.

If our love were but more simple,We should take Him at His word;And our lives would be all sunshineIn the sweetness of the Lord.

And O when the whirlwind of passion is raging,When sin in our hearts its wild warfare is waging,Then send down Thy grace, Thy redeemed to cherish;Rebuke the destroyer; "Save, Lord, or we perish."

Be what thou seemest; live thy creed;Hold up to earth the torch divine;Be what thou prayest to be made;Let the great Master's steps be thine.

Sorrows humanize our race;Tears are the showers that fertilize this world.

Since Thou on earth hast wept,And sorrowed oft alone,If I must weep with Thee,My Lord, Thy will be done!

Earth may embitter, not remove.The love divinely given;And e'en that mortal grief shall proveThe immortality of love,And lead us nearer heaven.

Take my lips, and let them beFilled with messages from Thee.

Heaven is not gained by a single bound,But we build the ladder by which we riseFrom the lowly earth to the vaulted skies;And we mount to its summit round by round.

Suffering is my gain; I bowTo my Heavenly Father's will,And receive it hushed and still;Suffering is my worship now.

He hears thy faintly sobbing breath,He marks each quivering limb;He drank a cup for thee alone—Child! drink it now with Him.

He knows the bitter, weary way,The endless striving day by day,The souls that weep, the souls that prayHe knows!

He knows! Oh thought so full of bliss!For though on earth our joy we miss,We still can bear it, feeling this,—He knows!

He knows; O heart take up thy cross,And know earth's treasures are but dross,And He will prove as gain our loss!He knows.

Lord, from success, its noise and glare,And often shallow life,Guide me to where Thy soldiers lie,Faint, wounded in the strife;Give me a brother's heart, I pray,To watch and help the weak to-day.

I ask Thee for a thankful love,Through constant watching wise,To meet the glad with joyful smiles,And to wipe the weeping eyes,And a heart at leisure from itself,To soothe and sympathize.