Trifles.
Nothing so small that God has made1
But has its destined end ;2
All in their turn His purpose serve—3
All to His glory tend.4
The grain of dust, to sight unseen,5
With myriads may combine6
To form a bulwark to the sea,7
Its limits to confine.8
The little drop of pearly dew.9
Which on the blue-bell lies,10
May, in the sun’s bright. beams, appear11
A rainbow in the skies ;12
Or else the trackless ocean main,13
With others, form to share,14
On which the ship, when homeward bound,15
Some loving heart shall bear.16
And thus the humblest of us all17
God’s instrument may prove,18
To bless and shed o’er fellow-men19
The bounty of His love !20