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Saturday, September 7, 2013

Peonies, Books and Depression Glass with The starry firmament on high and O love divine, that stooped to share

The starry firmament on high,
And all the glories of the sky,
Yet shine not to thy praise, O Lord,
So brightly as thy written word.

The hopes that holy word supplies,
Its truths divine and precepts wise,
In each a heavenly beam I see,
And every beam conducts to thee.

Almighty Lord, the sun shall fail,
The moon forget her nightly tale,
And deepest silence hush on high
The radiant chorus of the sky;

But, fixed for everlasting years,
Unmoved amid the wreck of spheres,
Thy word shall shine in cloudless day,
When heaven and earth have passed away.

Sir Robert Grant
O love divine, that stooped to share
  Our sharpest pang, our bitterest tear,
On thee we cast each earth-born care,
  We smile at pain, while thou art near.

Though long the weary way we tread,
  And sorrow crown each lingering year,
No path we shun, no darkness dread,
  Our hearts still whispering, thou art near.

When drooping pleasure turns to grief,
  And trembling faith is changed to fear,
The murmuring wind, the quivering leaf,
  Shall softly tell us thou art near.

On thee we fling our burdening woe,
  O love divine, forever dear;
Content to suffer while we know,
  Living or dying, thou art near!

O. W. Holmes

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