A THANK-OFFERING

BENJAMIN JOHN WADE.

Though power in me may not abide,
To praise Thee, Lord, in numbers grand,
I thank Thee Thou hast not denied
The grace to hear and understand.

I listen while another sounds
The strings my fingers trembled o'er,
Rejoicing that such skill abounds—
If less in me, in others more.

Thus listening, I have learned the truth:
A father's heart is not more mild
To burning words of stalwart youth
Than lispings of the younger child.

So unto Love's attentive ear,
These matchless pæans, half divine,
Are not more welcome nor more dear
Than are these broken chords of mine.

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