THE PEACE
OF THE SUMMER DAY.
OH, the perfect peace and quiet
Of the fair midsummer day,
As upon the rippling waters
Heaven's lights and shadows play.
From the depths of distant woodlands
Hear the robin's piping call,
While the breezes through the tree-tops
Croon a lullaby for all.
Far from city haunt and bustle
Came we on a summer's morn;
'Neath the shine of heaven's glory
Lingering till the week was gone.
Ah, could hearts grow cold and selfish,
Or forgetful of the "Best,"
As in God's own grandest temples
Heart and mind sought daily rest?
Life must have its winter season,
Summer cannot last for aye;
Storms must come, and storm clouds follow
Brightest sunshine in the sky;
But the peace that maketh perfect,
Never-dying, gladsome rest,
Only comes when there is cherished
Love's sweet summer in each breast.
Love, which goeth on forever,
Hand and hand with charity;
Love, which wearies not, nor faileth
In its gentle sympathy;
Love, which has its sweet beginning
In the God whose name is Love:
Then, indeed, will peace and gladness
Make the bluest skies above.
—Mary D. Brine,
in Christian Weekly.