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OIL AND WINE

Is. xxxv. 10

          There is a balm for every pain,
               A medicine for all sorrow;
          The eye turned backward to the Cross,
               And forward to the morrow.
          The morrow of the glory and the psalm,
               When He shall come;
          The morrow of the harping and the palm,
               The welcome home.
          Meantime in His beloved hands our ways,
               And on His Heart the wandering heart at rest;
          And comfort for the weary one who lays
               His head upon His Breast.

G. T. S.


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