Page:The Christian Year 1887.djvu/120

 Where hast thou left those few sheep in the wild?" Then should we plead our heart's consuming pain, At sight of ruined altars, prophets slain,  And God's own ark with blood of souls defiled;

He on the rock may bid us stand, and see The outskirts of His march of mystery, His endless warfare with man's wilful heart; First, His great Power He to the sinner shows Lo! at His angry blast the rocks unclose, And to their base the trembling mountains part

Yet the Lord is not here: 'Tis not by Power He will be known—but darker tempests lower; Still, sullen heavings vex the labouring ground: Perhaps His Presence thro' all depth and height, Best of all gems that deck His crown of light, The haughty eye may dazzle and confound.

God is not in the earthquake; but behold From Sinai's caves are bursting, as of old, The flames of His consuming jealous ire. Woe to the sinner should stern Justice prove His chosen attribute;—but He in love Hastes to proclaim, "God is not in the fire."

The storm is o'er—and hark! a still small voice Steals on the ear, to say, Jehovah's choice Is ever with the soft, meek, tender soul; By soft, meek, tender ways He loves to draw The sinner, startled by His ways of awe: Here is our Lord, and not where thunders roll.

Back, then, complainer; loath thy life no more, Nor deem thyself upon a desert shore, Because the rocks the nearer prospect close. Yet in fallen Israel are there hearts and eyes That day by day in prayer like thine arise; Thou know'st them not, but their Creator knows.

Go, to the world return, nor fear to cast Thy bread upon the waters, sure at last In joy to find it after many days. The work be thine, the fruit thy children's part: Choose to believe, not see: sight tempts the heart From sober walking in true Gospel ways.