Questions & Answers
Buttercups and daisies, Oh, the pretty flowers! Coming in the springtime, To tell of sunny hours; While the trees are leafless, While the fields are bare, Buttercups and daisies Spring up here and there. Welcome, yellow buttercups! Welcome, daisies white! Ye are, to my spirit, Beautiful and bright,— Coming in the springtime, Of sunny hours to tell, Speaking to our hearts of Him Who doeth all things well.
See him coming! See them gather At his feet; As the image of his Father, Him they greet With their branches and their plaudits, As is meet. Here a blind one, there a cripple, Hither led; By the constant human ripple, Kindly sped.
Comes our June None too soon, With its laughter and play; All too soon Will our June Slip in sadness away.
" I am the True Vine," said our Lord, "and ye, My brethren, are the branches;" and that Vine, Then first uplifted in its place, and hung With its first purple grapes, since then has grown, Until its green leaves gladden half the world; And from its countless clusters, rivers flow For healing of the nations; and its boughs Innumerable stretch through all the earth, Ever increasing, ever each entwined With each,—all living from the Central Heart.
Yes , we do right to fear,—not mighty God, In whom all goodness ever dwells,—but him Who can destroy the body's image fair, And wreck our bark on error's fatal strand.
Crystal the face of the watch, where we read Time's onward march, which all mortals must heed. Crystalline gems among the tresses may twine, Brought from the depths of some far-away mine; Crystal far more than the frontlet they bind, The fathomless deeps of a generous mind.
The Lord is risen! From out the garden tomb, Set amid lilies' fair and fragrant bloom; The Conquerer, triumphant from the dead, Bright and serene, uplifts his royal head. Scent of his garments' spicery and balm Distills through all the garden.
And Enoch lived sixty-and-five years, and begat Methuselah; and Enoch walked with God, after he begat Methuselah, three-hundred years, and begat sons and daughters. And all the days of Enoch were three-hundred-sixty-and-five years; and Enoch walked with God; and he was not, for God took him.
He liveth long who liveth well; All other life is short and vain; He liveth longest, who can tell Of living most for heavenly gain. He liveth long who liveth well; All else is life but flung away; He liveth longest, who can tell Of true things truly done each day.
I trace your lines of argument, Your logic linked and strong; I weigh, as one who dreads dissent, And fears a doubt as wrong. Yet in the maddening maze of things, And tossed by storm and flood, To one fixed stake my spirit clings, I know that God is good.