October 21

Attend unto my cry, for I am brought very low.

DEAR Lord! my heart is sick Of this perpetual lapsing time,

So slow in grief, in joy so quick,

Yet ever casting shadows so sublime:

Time of all creatures is least like to Thee,

And yet it is our share of Thine Eternity.

Weak, weak, for ever weak!

We cannot hold what we possess;

Youth cannot find, age will not seek,—

Oh weakness is the heart's worst weariness:

But weakest hearts can lift their thoughts to Thee;

It makes us strong to think of Thine Eternity.

Self-wearied, Lord! I come;

For I have lived my life too fast:

Now that years bring me nearer home

Grace must be slowly used to make it last;

When my heart beats too quick I think of Thee,

And of the leisure of Thy long Eternity.

Farewell, vain joys of earth!

Farewell, all love that is not His!

Dear God! be Thou my only mirth,

Thy majesty my single timid bliss!

Oh in the bosom of Eternity

Thou dost not weary of Thyself, nor we of Thee!

FRED.

ERICK

WILLIAM

FABER

THE FEARLESS SOUL