The story of her first hymn beautifully images
one phase of her religion. Once, when returning
home after an exciting service, full of her own
unworthiness and of the glory of Christ, she turned
down a narrow, sheltered lane, in order to be alone
to pray. There she knelt; and in her communion
with God the spirit of sacred song touched her soul;
and by the time she reached her home she had
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composed her first verse--the fourth in the following hymn:
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Great Author of salvation
And providence for man,
Thou rulest earth and heaven
With Thy far-reaching plan:
To-day, or on the morrow,
Whatever woe betide,
Grant us Thy strong assistance,
Within Thy hand to hide.
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What though the winds be angry,
What though the waves be high,
While Wisdom is the ruler,
The Lord of earth and sky!
What though the flood of evil
Rise stormily and dark,
No soul can sink within it--
God is Himself the ark!
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Give us the faith of angels,
That we may look and see
Salvation's depths of radiance
And holy mystery:
Two natures in one person,
Harmonious, part and whole:
The blood divine availing
To ransom every soul.
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My soul, behold the fitness
Of this great Son of God;
Trust Him for life eternal,
And cast on Him thy load:
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A Man!--touched with the pity
Of every human woe;
A God!--to claim the kingdom,
And vanquish every foe.
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One association of the first verse in the above
hymn gives it a strange pathos. A large number
of miners in a town of Glamorganshire having
been turned out of employment lately, they used
to gather in an open place for conference. The
proceedings were opened more than once by the
singing of this verse. A scene peculiarly Welsh,
surely!--and a scene aglow with the light of
heavenly romance. When their daily bread
seemed to fail them, and the world looked dark
around them, their Bible and their native song
taught them to look upward to the Author of
human Providence--in whose hand they could
verily hide without fear of evil.
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