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 Swansea, who visited her, Oh ! I want all of you to speak bright, bright words about Jesus. Oh do, do ! It is all perfect peace. I am only waiting for Jesus to take me in.

Miss Havergal once said, I can never set myself to write verse. I believe my King suggests a thought and whispers me a musical line or two, and then I look up and thank Him delightedly, and go on with it. That is how the hymns and poems come. The Master has not put a chest of poetic gold into my possession and said, &quot; Now use it as you like ! &quot; But He keeps the gold and gives it me piece by piece just when He will, and as much as He will, and no more. Some day, perhaps, He will send me a bright line of verses on &quot; satisfied &quot; ringing through my mind, and then I shall look up and thank Him, and say, &quot; Now, dear Master, give me another to rhyme with it, and then another&quot;; and then perhaps He will send it all in one flow of musical thoughts, but more likely one at a time, that I may be kept asking Him for every line. There, that is the process, and you see there is no &quot; I can do it &quot; at all. That isn t His way with me. I often smile to myself when people talk about &quot; gifted pen &quot; or &quot; clever verses,&quot; &c., because they don t know that it is neither, but something really much nicer than being &quot; talented &quot; or &quot; clever.&quot;

Hymn 331. Lord, I hear of showers of blessing.

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Mrs. Codner (née Harris) was the wife of a clergyman, a worker at Mildmay Hall, who edited a missionary monthly, Woman s Work in the Great Harvest Field.

In the summer of 1860, a party of children, in whom she was greatly interested, were much impressed by an account of revival work in Ireland. Mrs. Codner urged on them the privilege and responsibility of getting a share of the same blessing. On the following Sunday she was not well enough to leave home. Those children were still in my heart, and I longed to press upon them an earnest, personal appeal. Without effort, words seemed to be given to me, and they took the form of a hymn. I had no thought of sending it beyond the limits of my own circle, but, passing it on to one and another, it became a word of power, and I then published it (1861) as a leaflet. The hymn soon became popular. News reached the writer of the blessing gained by it. Now, it would be tidings

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