The Heart-Life
Who dwelleth in that secret place,
Where tumult enters not,
Is never cold with terror base,
Never with anger hot:
For if an evil host should dare
His very heart invest,
God is his deeper heart, and there
He enters in to rest.
When mighty sea-winds madly blow,
And tear the scattered waves,
Peaceful as summer woods, below
Lie darkling ocean caves:
The wind of words may toss my heart,
But what is that to met
‘Tis but a surface storm—Thou art
My deep, still, resting sea.
—George MacDonald.
Character Builders
We are building, every day,
In a good or evil way;
And the structure, as it grows,
Will our inmost self disclose.
All are architects of fate,
Working in these walls of time;
Some with massive deeds and great,
Some with ornaments of rhyme;
For the structure that we raise,
Time is with materials filled;
Our to-days and yesterdays
Are the blocks with which we build.
—Henry W. Longfellow.
Alternate Reading: James 5: 7-12.