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MY SACRIFICE.

Laid on Thine altar, O my Lord divine,
Accept this gift to-day, for Jesus' sake.
I have no jewels to adorn Thy shrine,
Nor any world-famed sacrifice to make.
But here I bring, within my trembling
hand,
This will of mine—a thing that seemeth
small;
And Thou alone, O Lord, can'st
understand
How, when I yield Thee this, I yield
mine all.

Hidden therein Thy searching gaze can'st
see
Struggles of passions, visions of
delight.
All that I have, or am, or fain would
be—
Deep loves, fond hopes, and longings
infinite;
It hath been wet with tears, and dimmed
with sighs,
Clenched in my grasp till beauty hath
it none.
Now, from Thy footstool, where it vanquished
lies,
The prayer ascendeth—"May Thy will
be done!"

Take it, O Father, ere my courage fail;
And merge it so in Thine own will,
that e'en,
If in some desperate hour my cries
prevail,
And Thou give back my gift, it may
have been
So changed, so purified, so fair have
grown,
So one with Thee, so filled with peace
divine,
I may not know or feel it as mine own;
But, gaining back my will, may find it
Thine.
—New York Observer.

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