It's wiser being good than bad; It's safer being meek than fierce; It's fitter being sane than mad. My own hope is a sun will pierce The thickest cloud earth ever stretched; That, after Last, returns the First, Though a wide compass round be fetched; That what began best, can't end worst, Nor what God blest once, prove accurst.
Hope, Christian soul! in every stage Of this thine earthly pilgrimage, Let heavenly joy thy thoughts engage; Abound in hope. Hope through the watches of the night; Hope till the morrow brings the light; Hope till thy faith be lost in sight; Abound in hope.
God works in all things; all obey His first propulsion from the night; Wake thou and watch! the world is gray With morning light.
When the sun of joy is hidden, And the sky is overcast, Just remember--light is coming, And the storm won't always last.
The mist denies the mountains; The wind forbids the sea; But, mist or wind, I go to find The day that calls to me.
For there are mornings yonder And noons that call and call; And there's a day with arms outheld, That waits beyond them all.
Open the door of your hearts, my lads, To the angel of Love and Truth When the world is full of unnumbered joys, In the beautiful dawn of youth. Casting aside all things that mar, Saying to wrong, Depart! To the voices of hope that are calling you Open the door of your heart.
A little bit of hope Makes a rainy day look gay; A little bit of charity Makes glad a weary way!
Hope, child, to-morrow, and to-morrow still, And every morrow hope; trust while you live. Hope! each time the dawn doth heaven fill, Be there to ask as God is there to give.
I bow my forehead to the dust, I veil mine eyes for shame, And urge, in trembling self-distrust, A prayer without a claim. No offering of mine own I have, Nor works my faith to prove; I can but give the gifts he gave, And plead his love for love.
I dimly guess, from blessings known, Of greater out of sight; And, with the chastened psalmist, own His judgments too are right. And if my heart and flesh are weak To bear an untried pain, The bruisèd reed he will not break, But strengthen and sustain.
I know not what the future hath Of marvel or surprise, Assured alone that life and death His mercy underlies. And so beside the silent sea I wait the muffled oar; No harm from him can come to me On ocean or on shore.