February 4

In falling and in rising again we are ever preciously kept in one Love.

LO, I have slept too long— Lord, I confess— This weary body by Thy hand was made, But for the love of ease In me so strong, And feeble will that kept me from my knees— Ah, whence are these? To think I am afraid. Tho' comfort speaks: "Thou knowest my foolishness."

But this I pray: Let not my day begin As through a gate shadowed and stained by sin, Ashamed and hopeless, fallen from Thy grace; But with a radiant face, So freshly bathed in penitential dew, That, all day through, The joy of sweet forgiveness being mine, I may, high-hearted, walk a duteous way, My hand in Thine; Whispering sometimes to Thee, my dearest Friend, "I will no more offend, But with to-morrow's morn rise and obey The tender Master whom I serve to-day."

AND DREAMS