Evening Melodies: Twenty-Eighth Day

Without Carefulness.

‘I would have you without carefulness.’ 1Cr 7:32.

I.
MASTER! how shall I bless Thy name
For Thy tender love to me,
For the sweet enablings of Thy grace,
So sovereign, yet so free,
That have taught me to obey Thy word
And cast my care on Thee!

II.
They tell of weary burdens borne
For discipline of life,
Of long anxieties and doubts,
Of struggle and of strife,
Of a path of dim perplexities
With fears and shadows rife.

III.
Oh, I have trod that weary path,
With burdens not a few,
With shadowy faith that Thou wouldst lead
And help me safely through,
Trying to follow and obey,
And bear my burdens too.

IV.
Master! dear Master, Thou didst speak,
And yet I did not hear,
Or long ago I might have ceased
From every care and fear,
And gone rejoicing on my way
From brightening year to year.

V.
Just now and then some steeper slope
Would seem so hard to climb,
That I must cast my load on Thee;
And I left it for a time,
And wondered at the joy at heart,
Like sweetest Christmas chime.

VI.
A step or two on winged feet,
And then I turned to share
The burden Thou hadst taken up
Of ever–pressing care;
So that I would not leave with Thee
Of course I had to bear.

VII.
At last Thy precious precepts fell
On opened heart and ear,
A varied and repeated strain
I could not choose but hear,
Enlinking promise and command,
Like harp and clarion clear:

VIII.
‘No anxious thought upon thy brow
The watching world should see;
No carefulness! O child of God,
For nothing careful be!
But cast thou all thy care on Him
Who always cares for thee.’

IX.
Did not Thy loving Spirit come
In gentle, gracious shower,
To work Thy pleasure in my soul
In that bright, blessed hour,
And to the word of strong command
Add faith and will and power?

X.
It was Thy word, it was Thy will—
That was enough for me!
Henceforth no care shall dim my trust,
For all is cast on Thee;
Henceforth my inmost heart shall praise
The grace that set me free.

XI.
And now I find Thy promise true,
Of perfect peace and rest;
I cannot sigh—I can but sing
While leaning on Thy breast,
And leaving everything to Thee,
Whose ways are always best.

XII.
I never thought it could be thus,—
Month after month to know
The river of Thy peace without
One ripple in its flow;
Without one quiver in the trust,
One flicker in its glow.

XIII.
Oh, Thou hast done far more for me
Than I had asked or thought!
I stand and marvel to behold
What Thou, my Lord, hast wrought,
And wonder what glad lessons yet
I shall be daily taught.

XIV.
How shall I praise Thee, Saviour dear,
For this new life so sweet,
For taking all the care I laid
At Thy belovèd feet.
Keeping Thy hand upon my heart
To still each anxious beat!

XV.
I want to praise, with life renewed,
As I never praised before;
With voice and pen, with song and speech,
To praise thee more and more,
And the gladness and the gratitude
Rejoicingly outpour.

XVI.
I long to praise Thee more, and yet
This is no care to me:
If Thou shalt fill my mouth with songs,
Then I will sing to Thee;
And if my silence praise Thee best,
Then silent I will be.

XVII.
Yet if it be Thy will, dear Lord,
Oh, send me forth, to be
Thy messenger to careful hearts,
To bid them taste and see
How good Thou art to those who cast
All, all their care on Thee!