The Home Circle by Observer

International Tract and Missionary Society · Oakland, California · Sep 16, 1889

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 15, No. 36.

The Home Circle.

By Observer

"I WILL LIFT UP MINE EYES UNTO THE HILLS."

WHEN petty cares my heart oppress With all their weary bitterness, And all my soul seems growing A home where low ambitions dwell, Where envy lurks, suspicions swell, I lift my eyes unto the hills And dream of wild flowers blowing!

Of happy fields where golden-rod And sweet pale asters sway and nod 'Mid graceful, waving grasses; Where tender leaves are floated down, And fleecy clouds are lightly blown, And care and doubt are put to rout By every wind that passes.

Once more I breathe, my soul expands, And stretches upward yearning hands With love and longing glowing; It climbs the steepest mountain height, Beyond the clouds that dim our sight, And reaches the eternal hills, Where flowers for aye are blowing.

O toilers on life's arid plain, Beset by disappointment's pain, Where tears are ever flowing Lift up your eyes, your help is there, Where all is strong and pure and fair; For God's own thought is crystallized In every wild flower blowing. —Observer.