Classic Poem

The power of arbitration in man is between the heights and the deeps, but the place of peace is not in the middle way .

Vessels OF E LECTION

The heart is Thine, the will is turn'd to Thee:
Thou didst require them at our hands; Thou hast
Received them. At the steps of Thy White Throne
We placed them, with a just and holy awe
That they could serve Thy purpose. Kings below,
To Thee, the King of all, that which we are
Is offer'd. O the glorious pride in free
And uncondition'd giving! Of his end
Thou hast made each the arbiter; it lies
Between his hands, thaThe may make it Thine,
And so all purpose of his world fulfil.
The keys of death and immortality,
With every dole and crown to these attach'd,
We hold, and yield them to Thy mastership.
Count therefore this the spirit and the term
Of our condign humility, who come
With contrite souls to be made worthy Thee,
Yet in Thy need for us are masters still,
Nor into misery and abjectness
Can ever lapse, but great in Thee through all
Must issue forth triumphant in the end!
It is not a matter of importance that the victory should be ultimately with ourselves, but the great ends must prevail, and they can prevail only in us .