February 22

The Angel of the Lord encampeth round about them that fear Him.

O H, this is blessing, this is rest— Into Thine arms, O Lord, I flee:

I hide me in Thy faithful breast And pour out all my soul to Thee.

There is a host dissuading me,— But, all their voices far above,

I hear Thy words—“O taste and see The comfort of a Saviour’s love!”

And hushing every adverse sound,

Songs of defence my soul surround,

As if all saints encamped about

One trusting heart, pursued by doubt.

A. L.

WARING

SUFFER THAT YOU MAY GIVE