August 27
Companions of the Way (Morning)When I awake I am present with Thee.
DAY hath her hours told out, her toil for all, Her time of sunrise and of noon to keep; Her hour of setting, and of dusky calm, Her nightfall fragrant with the breath of sleep.
The lark he keepeth his appointed time, The linnet boasteth of her little span; Fluff owlets render up their shrill account, And man hath seasons for his toil with man.
What is for God? Are all His times bespoke? Remaineth none undedicate to earth? Are all impregnate with the dews of toil, Hath Time forgotten in his age his birth?
Abideth yet an hour, most still and grey, Whose confines all are indeterminate; Nor to the sun nor stars pertaineth she, But on the borders is content to wait.
One wing she poiseth on the lap of sleep, One wing she reacheth to the bridegroom day; Work is of God, but prayer forerunneth work— Even so, Father—let us pray!
C. C. FRASER- TYTLER
Silence in Heaven for a space; Amen! The night shall certify, and the day tell— But one hour halloweth, with a voiceless speech: Even so, Father: it is well!
AFTER SUNSET