BRANCHES OF THE TRUE VINE.
By J. E. Lloyd
How happy they whose thoughts toward others going,
Live not for self alone ;
A wealth of love on other hearts bestowing
By act, and look, and tone. Far, far above all worldly, selfish thinking,
The way found in the word,
Where love divine the human closely linking,
Makes mortals like the Lord. Jesus! whose glorious precept and fulfilling,
Left such a path of light ;
Thy love upon our hearts like dew distilling,
Shall help us live aright. As when in Galilee thou walkedst weary
By others' woes opprest,
Thy joy to make earth's homes less sad and dreary,
And point to heavenly rest. Thus may we be earth's weary ones uplifting,
With words of hope and peace,
Till, anchored in that port to which we're drifting,
All pain and sorrow cease. In these blest days of joyful expectation,
Our hearts beat firm and high ;
So sure the promise of Christ's revelation,—
His coming draweth nigh. And he will say, "Ye blessed of my Father,
Ye did it unto me."
And all the hosts round him, with joy shall gather,
To live eternally.