To the Rev. C. B. Snepp

I have no hymn, my brother,
Upon your desk to lay,
No song of holy gladness
To bring to you to-day ;
To' Songs of Grace and Glory'
No verses sweet and new !
I write not for ten thousand,
I only write for you.

For oh, my heart is singing
A song of quiet praise
To Him who has preserved you,
Upholding all your ways.
To Him who knows our sorrows,
Who knew the orphan's heart,
And sent a friend to cheer it,
And act a brother's part.

So I come before my Father,
My hands in faith uplift,
To fill your cup with gladness
And every perfect gift.
And may His loving-kindness
Crown all with grace for grace,
Till in the coming glory
You stand before His face !

And see with light from heaven,
Clear-shining on thy ways,
Each pilgrimage petition
Transmuted into praise.