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Saturday, June 14, 2014

Peonies in Hobnail Vase with I cannot tell why my Savior and Oh, for the peace that floweth as a river

I cannot tell why my Savior
Should suffer and die for me,
Or why, unworthy, his favor
Should fall so unceasingly.

I cannot tell where he leads me,
But gladly I trust him still;
I follow on, for he needs me
Some part in his plan to fill.

I know not now; but up yonder
When I shall behold his face,
He’ll there unfold all the wonder
Of Jesus’ redeeming grace.

And there in fullness of glory
When Jesus’ dear face I see,
I’ll tell the wonderful story,
And sing of his love to me.

I sit in silence and wonder,
And all his mercy I ponder;
And still it seems so surprising,
The love of my Lord for me.

Thoro Harris
Oh, for the peace that floweth as a river,
  Making life’s desert places bloom and smile;
Oh, for the faith to grasp “Heav’n’s bright forever,”
  Amid the shadows of earth’s “little while.”

“A little while” for patient vigil-keeping,
  To face the storm and wrestle with the strong;
“A little while” to sow the seed with weeping,
  Then bind the sheaves and sing the harvest song.

“A little while” the earthen pitcher taking,
  To wayside brooks, from far off fountains fed;
Then the parched lip its thirst forever slacking
  Beside the fulness of the Fountain-head.

“A little while” to keep the oil from failing,
  “A little while” faith’s flickering lamp to trim;
And then the Bridegroom’s coming footsteps hailing,
  We’ll haste to meet Him with the bridal hymn.

Mrs. Jane Crewdson

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