Bible, Shrub Blossoms with The weary hours like shadows come and go and O Word of God Incarnate

The weary hours like shadows come and go,
As still I strive, by earnest faith and pray’r:
To do each day the duties that I know,
And bear the Cross my Saviour bids me bear.

But are there many weary miles to tread
Before the promised home appears in sight?
And are there sad and bitter tears to shed
Ere we shall meet in realms of endless light?

Some little joy I have in doing still
The humble work He bids me do for Him;
A tender gladness when ‘tis mine to fill
Again some empty chalice to the brim.

And thus the days are slowly passing here,
With distant gleams of hope and glory blest;
But is the hallowed moment drawing near
When we shall meet again in endless rest?

Ah, yes, when that great light which men call Death
Strikes thro’ the gloom and stills at last the strife,
There comes a hush, a sigh, a fleeting breath,
And we shall meet again in endless life.
         Sarah Doudney, arr.
O Word of God Incarnate,
  O Wisdom from on high,
O Truth unchanged, unchanging,
  O Light of our dark sky;
We praise Thee for the radiance
  That from the hallowed page,
A lantern to our footsteps,
  Shines on from age to age.

The Church from her dear Master
  Received the gift Divine,
And still that light she lifteth
  O’er all the earth to shine.
It is the golden casket,
  Where gems of truth are stored;
It is the heaven drawn picture
  Of Christ, the living Word.

It floateth like a banner
  Before God’s host unfurled;
It shineth like a beacon
  Above the darkling world.
It is the chart and compass
  That o’er life’s surging sea,
‘Mid mists and rocks and quicksands,
  Still guides, O Christ, to Thee.

O make thy Church, dear Saviour,
  A lamp of purest gold,
To bear before the nations
  Thy true light, as of old.
O teach Thy wandering pilgrims
  By this their path to trace,
Till, clouds and darkness ended,
  They see Thee face to face.
        Bishop William W. How