Then let the tears we're shedding
Have naught of grief's alloy;--
And let this GOLDEN WEDDING
Be one of tranquil joy.
God bless our honored father
God bless our mother dear!
And a thousand, thousand welcomes
To this fiftieth wedded year.
UNDER THE ROD
"Be Still, and know that I am God!"
Be silent, Soul!--though dark thy path and dreary,
And wild with storm, yet what is that to thee?
Though thou art faint, and desolate, and weary,
Thy God hath willed thus,--so let it be!
Murmurs the mountain oak when storms assail it,
And warring tempests wildly shake its form?
Firmer within the earth its root it striketh,
And gathers strength and vigor from the storm.
Be silent, Soul!--the hand of God is on thee!
And, as a skillful gard'ner, from the vine
Doth lop away each worthless branch and barren,
So He would lop each fruitless bough of thine.
Ah! thou art earth-bound, prone, and lowly creeping,
clinging to things too frail to be thy stay;
Jesus, with watchful care His vineyard keeping,
Would lift thee up to sunshine and the day.
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