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| II. |
 | The Poetical Works of Frances Ridley Havergal |  |
403
ACROSTICS.
Cecilia Havergal.
Christ hath called thee, Christ hath blest,
Everlasting life is thine;
Closely cleaving, thou shalt rest
In His glorious love divine.
Let Him teach thee what He will,
In thee day by day fulfil
All His sweet and blessed will.
Everlasting life is thine;
Closely cleaving, thou shalt rest
In His glorious love divine.
Let Him teach thee what He will,
In thee day by day fulfil
All His sweet and blessed will.
He is come to claim His throne,
And thy life is all His own;
Voices of this passing earth,
Echoes of its praise or mirth,
Reach not, when the heart hath heard
Golden music of His word.
‘All for Jesus’ henceforth be!
Live for Him who died for thee.
And thy life is all His own;
Voices of this passing earth,
Echoes of its praise or mirth,
Reach not, when the heart hath heard
Golden music of His word.
‘All for Jesus’ henceforth be!
Live for Him who died for thee.
404
Edith Havergal.
Early chastening, early blessing!
Darkest cloud hath brightest bow!
In the night of pain distressing,
Thine hath been the joy to show
How God is a Sun and Shield.
Darkest cloud hath brightest bow!
In the night of pain distressing,
Thine hath been the joy to show
How God is a Sun and Shield.
Heir thou art by His good pleasure,
All thy title Spirit-sealed!
View thy grand and royal treasure—
Every gift in Love's full measure,
Riches of His grace, so great,
Glory's far exceeding weight,—
All in Christ for ever thine!
Light and Life and Love Divine!
All thy title Spirit-sealed!
View thy grand and royal treasure—
Every gift in Love's full measure,
Riches of His grace, so great,
Glory's far exceeding weight,—
All in Christ for ever thine!
Light and Life and Love Divine!
For E. P. S.
Francie, may thy childhood be
As a blossom-laden tree,
Showing promise full and free.
As a blossom-laden tree,
Showing promise full and free.
Willie, be thy life a song,
Holy, happy, sweet, and long,
Swelling through a world of wrong.
Holy, happy, sweet, and long,
Swelling through a world of wrong.
Alfred, be a fragrant flower,
Hailing either sun or shower,
Sweetest in its fading hour.
Hailing either sun or shower,
Sweetest in its fading hour.
Alice, in thy baby measure,
Ever be thy parents' treasure,
Showering golden love and pleasure.
Ever be thy parents' treasure,
Showering golden love and pleasure.
| The Poetical Works of Frances Ridley Havergal | |