“REJOICE, AND BE EXCEEDING GLAD.”
By Sel.
This life is not all sad,
The world is not so mad
As some have long supposed,
Whose hearts to joy are closed. ’Tis true there is much care,
And all by no means fare
As well as they could ask—
Yet is all life a task? Behind the lowering cloud,
And roar of thunder loud,
The sun still brightly shines,
And all, with silver lines. The storm can’t always last,
Though fierce it blows—and fast;
The cloud its force must spend
And with the rainbow blend. If thou wouldst look around,
Ten thousand might be found
Whose lot is worse than thine—
Then why dost thou repine? The trouble with us is
We don’t regard as His
Who owns and governs all
The things which to us fall. He gave and He can take,
We have no right to make
Complaint for what He does:
He chastens whom He loves, This thought should cheer us up,
When oft the bitter cup
To our own lips is thrust,
And, grieved, we’re bowed to dust. Then clear thy saddened brow;
Fall down! Give thanks just now
To God for all thou hast;
For mercies, present, past. “Rejoice!” Do not be sad,
But “be exceeding glad.”
The blessings of a day
Thou never canst repay.