Who at the moon and stars can gaze
    Without a gush of love and praise? 
    And now it is the midnight hour,
    And sleep asserts her soothing power.

    But see, the flickering light is gone,
    That from my neighbour’s window shone;
    His simple household prayer is said,
    He rests from toil, on his hard bed.

    Yet still the watchman wakes, and still
    Faithful till morning watch he will;
    But vain, O watchman! is thy care,
    If God, the Guardian, be not there.

    By my dull lamp, whose light’s near gone,
    In my small room I sit alone,
    And, thinking o’er past joys and pain,
    A sweet contentment doth remain.

    He’s still my trust; he, the true Shepherd, never
    Will forsake his sheep,—­he watcheth ever;
    The mother may forget her child, but yet
    Thus saith the Lord,—­“Thee I will not forget.”

    I rest in peace, I trust in Thee;
    Thy faithful eye still watcheth me;
    For He who ever wakes and lives
    To loving hearts no night e’er gives.

“Hope in god.”

Translated from the German of S.A.  Mahlman.

    Hope, my heart, in patience hope,—­
      Thou at last thy flowers shalt gather;
    God is full of tender love,—­
      Childlike speak thou to thy Father. 
    From believing, trusting hearts,
    The God of mercy ne’er departs.

    Clouds may come, and clouds may go,
      Rest upon his goodness always;
    To those joyful, sunny heights
      Lead these rough and gloomy pathways;
    Wakes for aye his Eye of Light,—­
    Tremble not in storm and night.

    Anchored on the Eternal Rock,
      To the heart of God fast clinging,
    Tell him all thy deepest woes,
      Before him all thy sorrows bringing;
    He is kind, and comfort gives
    To every sorrowing heart that lives.

    Let true faith strong courage give;
      Strength the Helper now is sending;
    Soon thou’lt understand His ways,
      Soon thou’lt find thy sorrows ending. 
    God! who life and goodness art! 
    In patience hope in Him, my heart.

FAILURE AND SUCCESS.

    It is in failure, in distress,
      When, reft of all, it stands alone,
    And not in what men call success,
      The noble, valiant soul is known.

    He who perfection makes his aim
      Shoots at a mark he may not reach;
    The world may laugh, the world may blame. 
      And what it calls discretion preach.

    And he will fail to win the goal
      Which low ambition makes its own;
    But, far beyond, his earnest soul
      Stands in the light, though all alone.

    It was through insult, pain, and loss
      That Jesus won immortal power;
    Thus the great failure of the cross
      Was his triumphant, glorious hour.