Drakes Bay And Other Poems

ting to be done, Of tender charity And sweet humility ? Each deed a stone. Deeds waiting to be done, Each day a cross to take Gladly for His dear sake, Who bore His own. Deeds waiting to be done, Sin to be crucified, And self to be denied Through Him alone. My soul, why dost thou fear? Why trembling dost thou stand Upon the border-land Of this new year? Alas! the old year saw Wrong for the right I willed, The promise unfulfilled, The broken Law! Saw how my idle hand Has left the good undone, And not a victory won That I had planned! Well mayt thou fear, my soul, For all thy strength is naught, The way with danger fraught, And far the goal. But in the opening day, One stands to lift thy weight Of sin, and guide thee straight Along the way. DRAKE'S BAY AND OTHER POEMS Open thine ears and hear That sweet and awful voice That bids even thee rejoice In His new year. "TLike "Palestine" Here in the Southland, where the olives grow Beneath such skies as arch Judea's hills, I love to think that He who when below Tasted for us all human griefs and ills, Sometimes found rest within the solemn shade Of gnarled olives, in some secret glade. Here in the Southland, where the olives grow I think of those within Gethsemane, Veiling the awful secret of His woe, Mute witnesses of that dread agony, While they the chosen three, who should have kept Their watch for ...