LITMIR.BIZ

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      For the heart grows rich in giving—

      All its wealth is living gain;

      Seeds which mildew in the garner

      Scattered fill with gold the plain.

      Is thy burden hard and heavy?

      Do thy steps drag wearily?

      Help to bear thy brother's burden;

      God will bear both it and thee.

      Numb and weary on the mountains,

      Wouldst thou sleep amidst the snow?

      Chafe that frozen form beside thee,

      And together both shall glow.

      Art thou stricken in life's battle?

      Many wounded round thee moan:

      Lavish on their wounds thy balsam,

      And that balm shall heal thine own.

      Is thy heart a well left empty?

      None but God the void can fill.

      Nothing but the ceaseless Fountain

      Can its ceaseless longings still.

      Is the heart a living power?

      Self-entwined its strength sinks low.

      It can only live in loving,

      And by serving love will grow.

      ———

      BY DOING GOOD WE LIVE

      A certain wise man, deeply versed

      In all the learning of the East,

      Grew tired in spirit, and athirst

      From life to be released.

      So to Eliab, holy man

      Of God he came: "Ah, give me, friend,

      The herb of death, that now the span

      Of my vain life may end."

      Eliab gently answered: "Ere

      The soul may free itself indeed,

      This herb of healing thou must bear

      To seven men in need;

      "When thou hast lightened each man's grief,

      And brought him hope and joy again,

      Return; nor shalt thou seek relief

      At Allah's hands in vain."

      The wise man sighed, and humbly said:

      "As Allah willeth, so is best."

      And with the healing herb he sped

      Away upon his quest.

      And as he journeyed on, intent

      To serve the sorrowing in the land

      On deeds of love and mercy bent,

      The herb bloomed in his hand,

      And through his pulses shot a fire

      Of strength and hope and happiness;

      His heart leaped with a glad desire

      To live and serve and bless.

      Lord of all earthly woe and need,

      Be this, life's flower, mine!

      To love, to comfort, and to heal—

      Therein is life divine!

      —Josephine Troup.

      ———

      FOR STRENGTH WE ASK

      For strength we ask

      For the ten thousand times repeated task,

      The endless smallnesses of every day.

      No, not to lay

      My life down in the cause I cherish most,

      That were too easy. But, whate'er it cost,

      To fail no more

      In gentleness toward the ungentle, nor

      In love toward the unlovely, and to give,

      Each day I live,

      To every hour with outstretched hand, its meed

      Of not-to-be-regretted thought and deed.

      —Agnes Ethelwyn Wetherald.

      ———

      MARTHA OR MARY?

      I cannot choose; I should have liked so much

      To sit at Jesus' feet—to feel the touch

      Of his kind gentle hand upon my head

      While drinking in the gracious words he said.

      And yet to serve Him!—Oh, divine employ—

      To minister and give the Master joy;

      To bathe in coolest springs his weary feet,

      And wait upon Him while He sat at meat!

      Worship or service—which? Ah, that is best

      To which he calls us, be it toil or rest;

      To labor for Him in life's busy stir,

      Or seek His feet, a silent worshiper.

      —Caroline Atherton Mason.

      ———

      This is the gospel of labor—ring it, ye bells of the kirk—

      The Lord of Love came down from above to live with the men who work.

      This is the rose that he planted, here in the thorn-cursed soil;

      Heaven is blest with perfect rest, but the blessing of earth is toil.

      —Henry van Dyke.

      

      ———

      MARTHA

      Yes, Lord, Yet some must serve!

      Not all with tranquil heart,

      Even at Thy dear feet,

      Wrapped in devotion sweet,

      May sit apart!

      Yes, Lord! Yet some must bear

      The burden of the day,

      Its labor and its heat,

      While others at Thy feet

      May muse and pray.

      Yes, Lord! Yet some must do

      Life's daily task-work; some

      Who fain would sing must toil

      Amid earth's dust and moil,

      While lips are dumb!

      Yes, Lord! Yet man must earn

      And woman bake the bread;

      And some must watch and wake

      Early for others' sake,

      Who pray instead!

      Yes, Lord! Yet even thou

      Hast need of earthly care;

      I bring the bread and wine

      To

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