154
POEMS BY CLARA A. MERRILL
While others there are
From near and afar
Who by "sweat of the brow" earn their bread;
And 'tis very sweet
To those who may eat
Who by their own efforts are fed.
From near and afar
Who by "sweat of the brow" earn their bread;
And 'tis very sweet
To those who may eat
Who by their own efforts are fed.
As God made the rich
And poor alike which
Will be guarded and led not astray?
And which, do you ween,
Will wear the bright sheen
When they get to the end of the way?
And poor alike which
Will be guarded and led not astray?
And which, do you ween,
Will wear the bright sheen
When they get to the end of the way?
To some he sends woe—
We know not why 'tis so—
But he chasteneth all more or less;
Where sorrow and strife
And burdens are rife,
These will He especially bless.
We know not why 'tis so—
But he chasteneth all more or less;
Where sorrow and strife
And burdens are rife,
These will He especially bless.
When o'er trials we sigh
To Him we should fly
Who doeth all things for the best;
When comes the release
There'll be eternal peace
In that beautiful Haven of Rest.
To Him we should fly
Who doeth all things for the best;
When comes the release
There'll be eternal peace
In that beautiful Haven of Rest.