A Few More Verses. Susan Coolidge
with sad, discordant sighs
The joyance of its song.
I do not dare to bless or ban—
I am too blind to see—
But this one little prayer I can
Put up to God for thee,
Because I know what fair, pure things
Thy inmost wishes be;
That what thy heart desires the most
Is what he loves to grant—
The love that counteth not its cost
If any crave or want;
The presence of the Holy Ghost,
The soul’s inhabitant;
The wider vision of the mind;
The spirit bright with sun;
The temper like a fragrant wind,
Chilling and grieving none;
The quickened heart to know God’s will
And on his errands run;
The ministry of little things—
Not counted mean or small
By that dear alchemy which brings
Some grain of gold from all;
The faith to wait as well as work,
Whatever may befall.
So, sure of thee, and unafraid,
I make my daily prayer,
Nor fear that my blind zeal be made
Thy injury or snare:
God give thee, love, thy heart’s desire,
And bless thee everywhere!
CONTENTS TO PART SECOND.
| Page | |
| To Arcite at the Wars | 13 |
| New every Morning | 15 |
| Lohengrin | 17 |
| A Single Stitch | 19 |
| Reply | 20 |
| Talitha Cumi | 23 |
| The Better Way | 25 |
| Forever | 27 |
| Miracle | 29 |
| Charlotte Brontë | 32 |
| End and Means | 34 |
| Comforted | 36 |
| Words | 39 |
| Influence | 41 |
| An Easter Song | 43 |
| So Long Ago | 45 |
| A Birthday | 47 |
| Derelict | 49 |
| H. H | 51 |
| Freedom | 54 |
| The Vision and the Summons | 56 |
| Forecast | 59 |
| Early Taken | 61 |
| Some Lover’s Dear Thought | 64 |
| Ashes | 66 |
| One Lesser Joy | 68 |
| Close at Hand | 71 |
| Only a Dream |
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