Favoured by Heaven are those, ordained to taste
The bliss supreme that kindles fancy's fire;
Whose magic fingers sweep the muse's lyre
In varying cadence, eloquently chaste!
Well may the mind, with tuneful numbers graced,
To fame's immortal attributes aspire,
Above the treacherous spells of low desire
That wound the sense, by vulgar joys debased.
For thou, blest Poesy, with godlike powers
To calm the miseries of man, wert given;
When passion rends, and hopeless love devours,
By memory goaded and by frenzy driven,

I can no more consider
What happens in this world,
For on these pilgrims' roads
There shines for me a different light
Weal and woe seem now all one,
All things go quickly by.
What brings me pain but helps me on,
What brings me joy but holds me back.
My true rest I find up yonder
When my brief pilgrimage is done.

When God's springs are overflowing
One cares no longer for this world
For him whose cross Christ's love can sweeten,
The easy burden ne'er grows heavy.
Who kisses Him in the crown of thorns
Receives Him as a gracious reward.

Seventy years have now passed by,
Lord of this my pilgrim time
I should like to begin again
To seek God and eternity,
So I may win a little more
Before I hasten on from here.

Seventy years my life has lasted,
And God has added from His abundance
Still four more years to these
That I must say, in justice,
His goodness is great,
His faithfulness is altogether
Wonderful, wonderful, wonderful!

Still two more years the Lord has given
Purely from His loving kindness
I should like to live contritely
In this precious time of grace.
Today is the time of dying
Tomorrow is the time of inheriting.

Five more years have still been added
From the sea of eternity,
In these I've had much enjoyment
From the kindness of the Highest.
'Tis true that God alone is love,
The purest promptings of His love
Change all my sufferings
So that through the power of Jesus
All the hardships of old age
Help me to a blessed life

To God alone be the honor
And to no other one.
Like a father He has borne me,
Like a mother He has fought for me,
Like a brother He has helped me,
Like a sister He has loved me,
Till I have grown old and feeble
And in children's ways am living.
Now I know nothing else to do
But to love the Highest Good.
If I must suffer further pains
Never shall they part me from
The purest impulse of true love.
Alexander Mack

If I should write henceforth
Something more than this,
My mind would have to stay
Of this same view;
God does all the good,
The evil comes from nature.
Love is His command,
And man is but a worm.
Love, indeed, makes men small
But thereby makes them great
'Tis this that brings the Bride
Into the Bridegroom's arms.

Now after five and eighty years
With all their vanished hours
I still have learned some more for my true comfort.
The bird has found its nest,
The nest, indeed, is small
The watchword is, be nothing!
And one can wish and try for nothing
Except what God is willing to bestow
How beautifully I rest here,
When I with all my heart acknowledge
Honoring God, that I am nothing.