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到那日,你必說:耶和華啊,我要稱謝你!因為你雖然向我發怒,你的怒氣卻已轉消;你又安慰了我。 1 In that day you will say:「I will praise you, O LORD. Although you were angry with me, your anger has turned away and you have comforted me.
看哪!神是我的拯救;我要倚靠他,並不懼怕。因為主耶和華是我的力量,是我的詩歌,他也成了我的拯救。 2 Surely God is my salvation; I will trust and not be afraid. The LORD, the LORD, is my strength and my song; he has become my salvation.」
在那日,你們要說:當稱謝耶和華,求告他的名;將他所行的傳揚在萬民中,提說他的名已被尊崇。 4 In that day you will say: 「Give thanks to the LORD, call on his name; make known among the nations what he has done, and proclaim that his name is exalted.
September 15 "Blow upon my garden that the spices may flow out." (S. of Sol. 4:16.) SOME of the spices mentioned in this chapter are quite suggestive. The aloe was a bitter spice, and it tells of the sweetness of bitter things, the bitter-sweet, which has its own fine application that only those can understand who have felt it. The myrrh was used to embalm the dead, and it tells of death to something. It is the sweetness which comes to the heart after it has died to its self-will and pride and sin. Oh, the inexpressible charm, that hovers about some Christians simply because they bear upon the chastened countenance and mellow spirit the impress the impress of the cross, the holy evidence of having died to something that was once proud and strong, but is now forever at the feet of Jesus. It is the heavenly charm of a broken spirit and a contrite heart, the music that springs from the minor key, the sweetness that comes from the touch of the frost upon the ripened fruit. And then the frankincense was a fragrance that came from the touch of the fire. It was the burning powder that rose in clouds of sweetness from the bosom of the flames. It tells of the heart whose sweetness has been called forth, perhaps by the flames of affliction, until the holy place of the soul is filled with clouds of praise and prayer. Beloved, are we giving out the spices, the perfumes, the sweet odors of the heart? ─The Love-Life of Our Lord. "A Persian fable says: Onr day A wanderer found a lump of clay So redolent of sweet perfume Its odors scented all the room. `What are thou? was his quick demand, `Art thou some gem from Samarcand, Or spikenard in this rude disguise, Or other costly merchandise? `Nay: I am but a lump of clay.' "`Then whence this wondrous perfume─say!' `Friend, if the secret I disclose, I have been dwelling with the rose.' Sweet parable! and will not those Who love to dwell with Sharon's rose, Distil sweet odors all around, Though low and mean themselves are found? Dear Lord, abide with us that we May draw our perfume fresh from Thee."