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diff --git a/old/54526-8.txt b/old/54526-8.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 07fc105..0000000 --- a/old/54526-8.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,7565 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Religious Poems, by Various - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: Religious Poems - -Author: Various - -Release Date: April 10, 2017 [EBook #54526] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK RELIGIOUS POEMS *** - - - - -Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Chris Pinfield and the -Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - - - - -Transcriber's Note. - -The compiler of this collection is not identified. - -Apparent typographical errors have been corrected. "Zavier" has been -replaced by "Xavier". Inconsistencies in the use of hyphens and of -accents have been retained. - -Italic font is indicated by _underscores_ and transliterated Greek by -=equal signs=. Small capitals have been replaced by full capitals, and "oe" -ligatures have been removed. - -Where individual poems lack titles they are identified, in the Table of -Contents, by their first line or an appropriate phrase. - - -[Illustration: THE ANGEL'S INTERCESSION.] - - - - -RELIGIOUS POEMS - -SELECTED. - - PHILADELPHIA: - THE RODGERS COMPANY. - - - - -CONTENTS. - - - PAGE - - Our King _Frances R. Havergal._ 9 - The Sleep _E. B. Browning._ 10 - God's Commands _Doddridge._ 13 - Be Strong _Adelaide Procter._ 14 - The Sleep of the Beloved _Horatius Bonar._ 15 - Self-Dependence _Matthew Arnold._ 16 - What is Prayer? _James Montgomery._ 18 - The Virgin Mary to the Child Jesus _E. B. Browning._ 19 - The Voice from Galilee _Horatius Bonar._ 28 - Lead, Kindly Light _Cardinal Newman._ 29 - Weary of Life _Unidentified._ 30 - Come unto Me _Unidentified._ 31 - Earth's Beauty _Horatius Bonar._ 33 - Servant of God _James Montgomery._ 34 - The Angel's Story _Adelaide Procter._ 35 - Jesus _Bernard._ 44 - Morality _Matthew Arnold._ 45 - Morning _John Keble._ 47 - Divine Order _Horatius Bonar._ 50 - The Issues of Life and Death _James Montgomery._ 51 - Gracious Spirit _Stocker._ 52 - St. Agnes' Eve _Alfred Tennyson._ 53 - Life and Death _Adelaide Procter._ 54 - The Angel's Call _Mrs. Hemans._ 56 - I would not Live alway _Muhlenberg._ 57 - Jerusalem the Golden _Bernard._ 58 - When our Heads are Bowed _Heber._ 60 - O Soul, Soul _Henry C. Graves._ 61 - The Look _E. B. Browning._ 62 - The Meaning of the Look _E. B. Browning._ 62 - Comfort _E. B. Browning._ 63 - Substitution _E. B. Browning._ 64 - Tears _E. B. Browning._ 65 - Cheerfulness taught by Reason _E. B. Browning._ 65 - The Prospect _E. B. Browning._ 66 - Consolation _E. B. Browning._ 67 - A Thought over a Cradle _N. P. Willis._ 68 - Everlasting Blessings _Frances R. Havergal._ 69 - The Mother to her Child _N. P. Willis._ 70 - Give me thy Heart _Adelaide Procter._ 72 - One Sweetly Solemn Thought _Phoebe Carey._ 75 - Left Behind _Horatius Bonar._ 76 - Lord, what a Change _Richard C. Trench._ 78 - Our Father _Frances R. Havergal._ 78 - Thou art the Way _Doane._ 85 - The Night and the Morning _Horatius Bonar._ 86 - In Affliction _James Montgomery._ 87 - Give to the Winds _Gerhard._ 87 - Where wilt Thou _Mrs. Sigourney._ 88 - One there is above _Newton._ 89 - God moves in a mysterious way _Cowper._ 90 - Onward, Christian _Johnson._ 91 - Thankfulness _Adelaide Procter._ 92 - Does the Gospel word proclaim _Newton._ 94 - My God, my Father _C. Elliott._ 95 - The Seen and the Unseen _Horatius Bonar._ 96 - I am far frae my Hame _Unidentified._ 101 - The Sinner's Friend _Charlotte Elliott._ 103 - Evening Prayer at a Girls' School _Mrs. Hemans._ 105 - I Worship Thee _F. W. Faber._ 107 - The Peace of God _Adelaide Procter._ 110 - Listening in Darkness--Speaking in Light _Frances R. Havergal._ 112 - The Morning Star _Horatius Bonar._ 113 - God of the World _S. S. Cutting._ 114 - There is a God _Steele._ 115 - Lord, how Mysterious _Steele._ 116 - The Shadow of the Rock _F. W. Faber._ 116 - Elegy _Henry King._ 120 - Rest Yonder _Horatius Bonar._ 122 - Soldiers of Christ _C. Wesley._ 123 - Thy Will be done _J. Roscoe._ 124 - It is not Dying _Malan._ 125 - Watchman! tell us of the Night _Bowring._ 126 - The Spirit accompanying the Word of God _James Montgomery._ 127 - The Cloudless _Horatius Bonar._ 128 - Comfort _Adelaide Procter._ 130 - "Master, Say On!" _Frances R. Havergal._ 132 - The Leper _N. P. Willis._ 134 - Things hoped for _Horatius Bonar._ 141 - The Sure Refuge _Unidentified._ 144 - Unfruitfulness _F. W. Faber._ 145 - Murmuring _Richard C. Trench._ 148 - If thou couldst Know _Adelaide Procter._ 149 - Compensation _Frances R. Havergal._ 150 - Valiant for the Truth _James Montgomery._ 156 - Advent _Horatius Bonar._ 158 - A Bethlehem Hymn _Horatius Bonar._ 160 - A Desire _Adelaide Procter._ 161 - That Glorious Song of Old _Sears._ 164 - Hail to the Lord's _Montgomery._ 165 - The Old, Old Story _Jemima Luke._ 167 - My Jesus _Unidentified._ 168 - How Beauteous were the marks divine _A. C. Coxe._ 169 - O Sacred Head _Bernard._ 171 - Heart of Stone _C. Wesley._ 172 - "By Thy Cross and Passion" _Frances R. Havergal._ 173 - Abide in Him _Horatius Bonar._ 175 - Rejoice, all ye Believers _Laurenti._ 176 - Joined to Christ _Frances R. Havergal._ 177 - "Till He Come!" _E. W. Bickersteth._ 178 - "Forever with the Lord!" _James Montgomery._ 180 - The Meeting-Place _Horatius Bonar._ 181 - A Little While _Horatius Bonar._ 183 - Ascension Day _John Keble._ 185 - The Sacrifice of Abraham _N. P. Willis._ 188 - A Solitary Way _Unidentified._ 192 - The Child's Welcome into Heaven _Unidentified._ 194 - "Now" _Frances R. Havergal._ 196 - Ocean Teachings _Horatius Bonar._ 201 - Incompleteness _Adelaide Procter._ 203 - Nothing to Do _Unidentified._ 205 - Death _From "Sintram."_ 206 - It is not Death to Die _Bethune._ 207 - Rugby Chapel _Matthew Arnold._ 208 - The Right must Win _F. W. Faber._ 217 - The Substitute _Horatius Bonar._ 221 - Jephthah's Daughter _N. P. Willis._ 222 - Lord, many Times _Richard C. Trench._ 228 - Cleansing Fires _Adelaide Procter._ 228 - Gone Before _Horatius Bonar._ 229 - The Lent Jewels _Richard C. Trench._ 231 - On the Death of a Missionary _N. P. Willis._ 233 - Set Apart _Frances R. Havergal._ 236 - The Useful Life _Horatius Bonar._ 238 - Hymn _Charlotte Elliott._ 240 - "Behold, the Bridegroom Cometh!" _Unidentified._ 242 - It may be in the Evening _Unidentified._ 246 - The Joy of Assurance _Frances R. Havergal._ 251 - "How Wonderful!" _Frances R. Havergal._ 252 - Thy Way, not Mine _Horatius Bonar._ 253 - A Child's First Impression of a Star _N. P. Willis._ 255 - "Come unto Me!" _St. Stephen the Sabaite._ 256 - "Looking unto Jesus" _From the German._ 257 - Evening Hymn _Adelaide Procter._ 259 - Are all the Children in? _Unidentified._ 261 - He Leads us On _Unidentified._ 263 - Nothing but Leaves _Unidentified._ 264 - Because He first Loved us _Francis Xavier._ 265 - Sonnet _Richard C. Trench._ 266 - Rest at Evening _Adelaide Procter._ 267 - Now the Day is over _Unidentified._ 268 - The Land of Light _Horatius Bonar._ 270 - Abide with Me _Lyte._ 271 - Farewell of the Soul to the Body _Mrs. Sigourney._ 272 - - - - -RELIGIOUS POEMS. - - -OUR KING. - - "Worship thou Him." Ps. xlv. 11. - - O Saviour, precious Saviour, - Whom yet unseen we love, - O Name of might and favor, - All other names above: - We worship Thee, we bless Thee, - To Thee alone we sing; - We praise Thee, and confess Thee - Our holy Lord and King! - - O Bringer of salvation, - Who wondrously hast wrought, - Thyself the revelation - Of love beyond our thought: - We worship Thee, we bless Thee, - To Thee alone we sing; - We praise Thee, and confess Thee - Our gracious Lord and King! - - In Thee all fullness dwelleth, - All grace and power divine; - The glory that excelleth, - O, Son of God, is Thine: - We worship Thee, we bless Thee, - To Thee alone we sing; - We praise Thee, and confess Thee - Our glorious Lord and King! - - Oh, grant the consummation - Of this our song above, - In endless adoration, - And everlasting love: - Then shall we praise and bless Thee, - Where perfect praises ring, - And evermore confess Thee - Our Saviour and our King! - - --_Frances Ridley Havergal._ - - -THE SLEEP. - - He giveth His beloved sleep. Ps. cxxvii. 2. - - Of all the thoughts of God that are - Borne inward unto souls afar, - Along the Psalmist's music deep, - Now tell me if that any is, - For gift or grace, surpassing this-- - 'He giveth His beloved, sleep?' - - What would we give to our beloved? - The hero's heart, to be unmoved, - The poet's star-tuned harp, to sweep, - The patriot's voice, to teach and rouse, - The monarch's crown, to light the brows?-- - 'He giveth _His_ beloved, sleep.' - - What do we give to our beloved? - A little faith all undisproved, - A little dust to overweep, - And bitter memories to make - The whole earth blasted for our sake. - 'He giveth _His_ beloved, sleep.' - - 'Sleep soft, beloved!' we sometimes say - But have no tune to charm away - Sad dreams that through the eyelids creep. - But never doleful dream again - Shall break the happy slumber when - 'He giveth _His_ beloved, sleep.' - - O earth, so full of dreary noises! - O men, with wailing in your voices! - O delvèd gold, the wailers heap! - O strife, O curse, that o'er it fall! - God strikes a silence through you all, - And 'giveth His beloved, sleep.' - - His dews drop mutely on the hill, - His cloud above it saileth still, - Though on its slope men sow and reap, - More softly than the dew is shed, - Or clouds is floated overhead, - 'He giveth His beloved, sleep.' - - Aye, men may wonder while they scan - A living, thinking, feeling man, - Confirmed in such a rest to keep; - But angels say, and through the word - I think their happy smile is _heard_-- - 'He giveth His beloved, sleep!' - - For me, my heart that erst did go - Most like a tired child at a show, - That sees through tears the mummers leap, - Would now its wearied vision close, - Would child-like on _His_ love repose, - Who 'giveth His beloved, sleep!' - - And friends, dear friends,--when it shall be - That this low breath is gone from me, - And round my bier ye come to weep, - Let one, most loving of you all, - Say, 'Not a tear must o'er her fall-- - He giveth His beloved, sleep.' - - --_E. B. Browning._ - - - How gentle God's commands! - How kind his precepts are! - Come, cast your burdens on the Lord, - And trust his constant care. - - Beneath his watchful eye - His saints securely dwell; - That hand which bears all nature up - Shall guard his children well. - - Why should this anxious load - Press down your weary mind? - Haste to your heavenly Father's throne - And sweet refreshment find. - - His goodness stands approved, - Unchanged from day to day: - I'll drop my burden at his feet, - And bear a song away. - - --_Doddridge._ - - -BE STRONG. - - Be strong to _hope_, O Heart! - Though day is bright, - The stars can only shine - In the dark night. - Be strong, O Heart of mine, - Look towards the light! - - Be strong to _bear_, O Heart! - Nothing is vain: - Strive not, for life is care, - And God sends pain; - Heaven is above, and there - Rest will remain! - - Be strong to _love_, O Heart! - Love knows not wrong; - Didst thou love--creatures even, - Life were not long; - Didst thou love God in heaven, - Thou wouldst be strong! - - --_Adelaide Procter._ - - -THE SLEEP OF THE BELOVED. - - "So He giveth his beloved sleep." Ps. cxxvii. 2. - - Sunlight has vanished, and the weary earth - Lies resting from a long day's toil and pain, - And, looking for a new dawn's early birth, - Seeks strength in slumber for its toil again. - - We too would rest; but ere we close the eye - Upon the consciousness of waking thought, - Would calmly turn it to yon star-bright sky, - And lift the soul to Him who slumbers not. - - Above us is thy hand with tender care, - Distilling over us the dew of sleep: - Darkness seems loaded with oblivious air, - In deep forgetfulness each sense to steep. - - Thou hast provided midnight's hour of peace, - Thou stretchest over us the wing of rest; - With more than all a parent's tenderness, - Foldest us sleeping to thy gentle breast. - - Grief flies away; care quits our easy couch, - Till wakened by thy hand, when breaks the day-- - Like the lone prophet by the angel's touch,-- - We rise to tread again our pilgrim-way. - - God of our life! God of each day and night, - Oh, keep us still till life's short race is run! - Until there dawns the long, long day of light. - That knows no night, yet needs no star nor sun. - - --_Horatius Bonar._ - - -SELF-DEPENDENCE. - - Weary of myself, and sick of asking - What I am, and what I ought to be, - At this vessel's prow I stand, which bears me - Forwards, forwards, o'er the starlit sea. - - And a look of passionate desire - O'er the sea and to the stars I send: - "Ye who from my childhood up have calmed me, - Calm me, ah, compose me to the end! - - "Ah, once more," I cried, "ye stars, ye waters, - On my heart your mighty charm renew; - Still, still let me, as I gaze upon you, - Feel my soul becoming vast like you!" - - From the intense, clear, star-sown vault of heaven, - Over the lit sea's unquiet way, - In the rustling night-air came the answer,-- - "Wouldst thou _be_ as these are? _Live_ as they. - - "Unaffrighted by the silence round them, - Undistracted by the sights they see, - These demand not that the things without them - Yield them love, amusement, sympathy. - - "And with joy the stars perform their shining, - And the sea its long moon-silvered roll; - For self-poised they live, nor pine with noting - All the fever of some differing soul. - - "Bounded by themselves, and unregardful - In what state God's other works may be, - In their own tasks all their powers pouring, - These attain the mighty life you see." - - O air-born voice! long since severely clear, - A cry like thine in mine own heart I hear,-- - "Resolve to be thyself; and know, that he - Who finds himself loses his misery!" - - --_Matthew Arnold._ - - -WHAT IS PRAYER? - - Prayer is the soul's sincere desire, - Unuttered or expressed; - The motion of a hidden fire - That trembles in the breast. - - Prayer is the burden of a sigh, - The falling of a tear, - The upward glancing of an eye, - When none but God is near. - - Prayer is the simplest form of speech - That infant lips can try; - Prayer the sublimest strains that reach - The majesty on high. - - Prayer is the contrite sinner's voice, - Returning from his ways; - While angels in their songs rejoice, - And cry--"Behold he prays!" - - Prayer is the Christian's vital breath, - The Christian's native air: - His watchword at the gates of death-- - He enters heaven with prayer. - - The saints in prayer appear as one - In word, and deed, and mind, - While with the Father and the Son - Sweet fellowship they find. - - Nor prayer is made by man alone - The Holy Spirit pleads - And Jesus, on the eternal throne - For sinners intercedes. - - O Thou, by whom we come to God-- - The Life, the Truth, the Way; - The path of prayer Thyself hast trod; - Lord! teach us how to pray. - - --_James Montgomery._ - - -THE VIRGIN MARY TO THE CHILD JESUS. - - But see, the Virgin blest - Hath laid her babe to rest. - MILTON'S _Hymn on the Nativity_. - - Sleep, sleep, mine Holy One! - My flesh, my Lord!--what name? I do not know - A name that seemeth not too high or low, - Too far from me or Heaven. - My Jesus, _that_ is best! that word being given - By the majestic angel whose command - Was softly as a man's beseeching said, - When I and all the earth appeared to stand - In the great overflow - Of light celestial from his wings and head. - Sleep, sleep, my saving One! - - And art Thou come for saving, baby-browed - And speechless Being--art Thou come for saving? - The palm that grows beside our door is bowed - By treadings of the low wind from the south, - A restless shadow through the chamber waving: - Upon its bough a bird sings in the sun; - But Thou, with that close slumber on Thy mouth, - Dost seem of wind and sun already weary. - Art come for saving, O my weary One? - - Perchance this sleep that shutteth out the dreary - Earth-sounds and motions, opens on Thy soul - High dreams on fire with God; - High songs that make the pathways where they roll - More bright than stars do theirs; and visions new - Of Thine eternal Nature's old abode. - Suffer this mother's kiss, - Best thing that earthly is, - To guide the music and the glory through, - Nor narrow in Thy dream the broad upliftings - Of any seraph wing! - Thus, noiseless, thus. Sleep, sleep, my dreaming One! - - The slumber of His lips meseems to run - Through _my_ lips to mine heart; to all its shiftings - Of sensual life, bringing contrariousness - In a great calm. I feel, I could lie down - As Moses did, and die,[1]--and then live most. - I am 'ware of you, heavenly Presences, - That stand with your peculiar light unlost, - Each forehead with a high thought for a crown, - Unsunned i' the sunshine! I am 'ware. Yet throw - No shade against the wall! How motionless - Ye round me with your living statuary, - While through your whiteness, in and outwardly, - Continual thoughts of God appear to go, - Like light's soul in itself! I bear, I bear, - To look upon the dropped lids of your eyes, - Though their external shining testifies - To that beatitude within, which were - Enough to blast an eagle at his sun. - I fall not on my sad clay face before ye; - I look on His. I know - My spirit which dilateth with the woe - Of His mortality, - May well contain your glory. - Yea, drop your lids more low. - Ye are but fellow-worshipers with me! - Sleep, sleep, my worshiped One! - - We sat among the stalls at Bethlehem, - The dumb kine from their fodder turning them, - Softened their horned faces - To almost human gazes - Towards the newly Born. - The simple shepherds from the star-lit brooks - Brought visionary looks, - As yet in their astonished hearing rung - The strange, sweet angel-tongue. - The magi of the East, in sandals worn, - Knelt reverent, sweeping round, - With long pale beards their gifts upon the ground, - The incense, myrrh and gold, - These baby hands were impotent to hold. - So, let all earthlies and celestials wait - Upon thy royal state! - Sleep, sleep, my kingly One! - - I am not proud--meek angels, ye invest - New meeknesses to hear such utterance rest - On mortal lips,--'I am not proud'--_not proud_! - Albeit in my flesh God sent His Son, - Albeit over Him my head is bowed - As others bow before Him, still mine heart - Bows lower than their knees. O centuries - That roll, in vision, your futurities - My future grave athwart,-- - Whose murmurs seem to reach me while I keep - Watch o'er this sleep,-- - Say of me as the Heavenly said,--'Thou art - The blessedest of women!'--blessedest, - Not holiest, not noblest--no high name, - Whose height misplaced may pierce me like a shame, - When I sit meek in heaven! - - For me--for me-- - God knows that I am feeble like the rest!-- - I often wandered forth, more child than maiden, - Among the midnight hills of Galilee, - Whose summits looked heaven-laden; - Listening to silence as it seemed to be - God's voice, so soft yet strong--so fain to press - Upon my heart as Heaven did on the height, - And waken up its shadows by a light, - And show its vileness by a holiness. - Then I knelt down most silent like the night, - Too self-renounced for fears, - Raising my small face to the countless blue - Whose stars did mix and tremble in my tears. - God heard _them_ falling after--with His dew. - - So, seeing my corruption, can I see - This Incorruptible now born of me-- - This fair new Innocence no sun did chance - To shine on (for even Adam was no child), - Created from my nature, all defiled, - This mystery from out mine ignorance-- - Nor feel the blindness, stain, corruption, more - Than others do, or _I_ did heretofore?-- - Can hands wherein such burden pure has been, - Not open with the cry 'unclean, unclean!' - More oft than any else beneath the skies? - Ah King, ah Christ, ah Son! - The kine, the shepherds, the abased wise, - Must all less lowly wait - Than I, upon thy state!-- - Sleep, sleep, my kingly One! - - Art Thou a King, then? Come, His universe, - Come, crown me Him a king! - Pluck rays from all such stars as never fling - Their light where fell a curse. - And make a crowning for this kingly brow!-- - What is my word?--Each empyreal star - Sits in a sphere afar - In shining ambuscade: - The child-brow, crowned by none, - Keeps its unchildlike shade. - Sleep, sleep, my crownless One! - - Unchildlike shade!--no other babe doth wear - An aspect very sorrowful, as Thou.-- - No small babe-smiles, my watching heart has seen, - To float like speech the speechless lips between; - No dovelike cooing in the golden air, - No quick short joys of leaping babyhood. - Alas, our earthly good - In heaven thought evil, seems too good for Thee: - Yet, sleep, my weary One! - - And then the drear sharp tongue of prophecy, - With the dread sense of things which shall be done, - Doth smite me inly, like a sword--a sword? - (_That_ 'smites the Shepherd!') then, I think aloud - The words 'despised,'--'rejected,'--every word - Recoiling into darkness as I view - The DARLING on my knee. - Bright angels,--move not!--lest ye stir the cloud - Betwixt my soul and his futurity! - I must not die, with mother's work to do, - And could not live--and see. - - It is enough to bear - This image still and fair-- - This holier in sleep, - Than a saint at prayer: - This aspect of a child - Who never sinned or smiled-- - This presence in an infant's face: - This sadness most like love - This love than love more deep, - This weakness like omnipotence, - It is so strong to move! - Awful is this watching place, - Awful what I see from hence-- - A king, without regalia, - A God, without the thunder, - A child, without the heart for play; - Aye, a Creator rent asunder - From His first glory and cast away - On His own world, for me alone - To hold in hands created, crying--SON! - - That tear fell not on THEE, - Beloved, yet Thou stirrest in thy slumber! - THOU, stirring not for glad sounds out of number - Which through the vibratory palm trees run - From summer wind and bird, - So quickly hast Thou heard - A tear fall silently?-- - Wak'st Thou, O loving One?-- - - --_E. B. Browning._ - -[1] It is a Jewish tradition that Moses died of the kisses of God's lips. - - -THE VOICE FROM GALILEE. - - I heard the voice of Jesus say, - "Come unto me and rest; - Lay down, thou weary one, lay down - Thy head upon my breast." - I came to Jesus as I was-- - Weary, and worn, and sad; - I found in Him a resting-place, - And He has made me glad. - - I heard the voice of Jesus say, - "Behold I freely give - The living water--thirsty one, - Stoop down, and drink, and live." - I came to Jesus, and I drank - Of that life-giving stream. - My thirst was quench'd, my soul revived, - And now I live in Him. - - I heard the voice of Jesus say, - "I am this dark world's light; - Look unto me, thy morn shall rise, - And all thy day be bright." - I looked to Jesus, and I found - In Him my Star, my Sun; - And in that Light of Life I'll walk - Till trav'ling days are done. - - --_Horatius Bonar._ - - -LEAD, KINDLY LIGHT. - - Lead, kindly Light, amid the encircling gloom, - Lead Thou me on; - The night is dark, and I am far from home, - Lead Thou me on; - Keep Thou my feet; I do not ask to see - The distant scene; one step enough for me. - - I was not ever thus, nor prayed that Thou - Shouldst lead me on; - I loved to choose and see my path; but now - Lead Thou me on. - I loved the garish day, and spite of fears, - Pride ruled my will; remember not past years. - - So long Thy power hath blest me, sure it still - Will lead me on - O'er moor and fen, o'er crag and torrent, till - The night is gone, - And with the morn those angel faces smile, - Which I have loved long since, and lost awhile. - - --_Cardinal Newman._ - - - Weary of earth and laden with my sin, - I look at heaven and long to enter in; - But there no evil thing may find a home, - And yet I hear a voice that bids me, "Come." - - So vile I am, how dare I hope to stand - In the pure glory of that holy land? - Before the whiteness of that Throne appear? - Yet there are Hands stretched out to draw me near. - - The while I fain would tread the heavenly way, - Evil is ever with me day by day; - Yet on mine ears the gracious tidings fall, - "Repent, confess, thou shalt be loosed from all." - - It is the voice of JESUS that I hear, - His are the Hands stretched out to draw me near, - And His the Blood that can for all atone, - And set me faultless there before the Throne. - - 'Twas He who found me on the deathly wild, - And made me heir of heaven, the FATHER'S child, - And day by day, whereby my soul may live, - Gives me His Grace of pardon, and will give. - - O great Absolver, grant my soul may wear - The lowliest garb of penitence and prayer, - That in the FATHER'S courts my glorious dress - May be the garment of Thy righteousness. - - Yea, Thou wilt answer for me, Righteous LORD; - Thine all the merits, mine the great reward; - Thine the sharp thorns, and mine the golden crown; - Mine the life won, and Thine the life laid down. - - Nought can I bring, dear LORD, for all I owe, - Yet let my full heart what it can bestow; - Like Mary's gift let my devotion prove, - Forgiven greatly, how I greatly love. - - --_Unidentified._ - - - "Come unto Me, ye weary, - And I will give you rest." - O blessed voice of JESUS, - Which comes to hearts oppressed; - It tells of benediction, - Of pardon, grace, and peace, - Of joy that hath no ending, - Of love which cannot cease. - - "Come unto Me, ye wanderers, - And I will give you light." - O loving voice of JESUS, - Which comes to cheer the night; - Our hearts were filled with sadness, - And we had lost our way; - But He has brought us gladness - And songs at break of day. - - "Come unto Me, ye fainting, - And I will give you life; - O cheering voice of JESUS, - Which comes to aid our strife; - The foe is stern and eager, - The fight is fierce and long; - But He has made us mighty, - And stronger than the strong. - - "And whosoever cometh, - I will not cast him out." - O welcome voice of JESUS, - Which drives away our doubt; - Which calls us very sinners, - Unworthy though we be, - Of love so free and boundless, - To come, dear LORD, to Thee. - - --_Unidentified._ - - -EARTH'S BEAUTY. - - Where the wave murmurs not, - Where the gust eddies not, - Where the stream rushes not, - Where the cliff shadows not, - Where the wood darkens not, - I would not be! - - Bright tho' the heavens were, - Rich tho' the flowers there, - Sweet tho' the fragrant air, - And all as Eden fair, - Yet as a dweller there, - I would not be! - - O wave, and breeze, and rill, and rock, and wood, - Was it not God Himself that called you GOOD? - - --_Horatius Bonar._ - - - "Servant of God, well done, - Rest from thy loved employ; - The battle fought, the vict'ry won, - Enter thy Master's joy." - - The voice at midnight came, - He started up to hear; - A mortal arrow pierced his frame, - He fell--but felt no fear. - - Tranquil amidst alarms, - It found him on the field, - A veteran slumbering on his arms, - Beneath his red-cross shield. - - The pains of death are past, - Labor and sorrow cease; - And, life's long warfare closed at last, - His soul is found in peace. - - Soldier of Christ, well done! - Praise be thy new employ; - And while eternal ages run, - Rest in thy Saviour's joy. - - --_James Montgomery._ - - -THE ANGEL'S STORY. - - Through the blue and frosty heavens - Christmas stars were shining bright; - Glistening lamps throughout the City - Almost matched their gleaming light; - While the winter snow was lying, - And the winter winds were sighing, - Long ago, one Christmas night. - - While, from every tower and steeple, - Pealing bells were sounding clear, - (Never with such tones of gladness, - Save when Christmas time is near,) - Many a one that night was merry - Who had toiled through all the year. - - That night saw old wrongs forgiven, - Friends, long parted, reconciled; - Voices all unused to laughter, - Mournful eyes that rarely smiled, - Trembling hearts that feared the morrow, - From their anxious thoughts beguiled. - - Rich and poor felt love and blessing - From the gracious season fall; - Joy and plenty in the cottage, - Peace and feasting in the hall; - And the voices of the children - Ringing clear above it all! - - Yet one house was dim and darkened; - Gloom, and sickness, and despair, - Dwelling in the gilded chambers, - Creeping up the marble stair, - Even stilled the voice of mourning,-- - For a child lay dying there. - - Silken curtains fell around him, - Velvet carpets hushed the tread, - Many costly toys were lying, - All unheeded, by his bed; - And his tangled golden ringlets - Were on downy pillows spread. - - The skill of that mighty City - To save one little life was vain,-- - One little thread from being broken, - One fatal word from being spoken; - Nay, his very mother's pain, - And the mighty love within her, - Could not give him health again. - - So she knelt there still beside him, - She alone with strength to smile, - Promising that he should suffer - No more in a little while, - Murmuring tender song and story - Weary hours to beguile. - - Suddenly an unseen Presence - Checked those constant moaning cries, - Stilled the little heart's quick fluttering, - Raised those blue and wondering eyes, - Fixed on some mysterious vision, - With a startled sweet surprise. - - For a radiant angel hovered, - Smiling, o'er the little bed; - White his raiment, from his shoulders - Snowy dove-like pinions spread, - And a starlike light was shining, - In a Glory round his head. - - While, with tender love, the angel, - Leaning o'er the little nest, - In his arms the sick child folding, - Laid him gently on his breast, - Sobs and wailings told the mother - That her darling was at rest. - - So the angel, slowly rising, - Spread his wings, and through the air - Bore the child, and, while he held him - To his heart with loving care, - Placed a branch of crimson roses - Tenderly beside him there. - - While the child, thus clinging, floated - Towards the mansions of the Blest, - Gazing from his shining guardian - To the flowers upon his breast, - Thus the angel spake, still smiling - On the little heavenly guest: - - "Know, dear little one, that Heaven - Does no earthly thing disdain, - Man's poor joys find there an echo - Just as surely as his pain; - Love, on earth so feebly striving, - Lives divine in Heaven again! - - "Once in that great town below us, - In a poor and narrow street, - Dwelt a little sickly orphan; - Gentle aid, or pity sweet, - Never in life's rugged pathway - Guided his poor tottering feet. - - "All the striving anxious fore-thought - That should only come with age - Weighed upon his baby spirit, - Showed him soon life's sternest page; - Grim Want was his nurse, and Sorrow - Was his only heritage. - - "All too weak for childish pastimes, - Drearily the hours sped; - On his hand so small and trembling - Leaning his poor aching head, - Or, through dark and painful hours, - Lying sleepless on his bed. - - "Dreaming strange and longing fancies - Of cool forests far away; - And of rosy, happy children, - Laughing merrily at play, - Coming home through green lanes, bearing - Trailing boughs of blooming May. - - "Scarce a glimpse of azure heaven - Gleamed above that narrow street, - And the sultry air of summer - (That you call so warm and sweet) - Fevered the poor orphan, dwelling - In the crowded alley's heat. - - "One bright day, with feeble footsteps - Slowly forth he tried to crawl, - Through the crowded city's pathways, - Till he reached a garden-wall, - Where 'mid princely halls and mansions - Stood the lordliest of all. - - "There were trees with giant branches, - Velvet glades where shadows hide; - There were sparkling fountains glancing - Flowers, which in luxuriant pride - Even wafted breaths of perfume - To the child who stood outside. - - "He against the gate of iron - Pressed his wan and wistful face, - Gazing with an awe struck pleasure - At the glories of the place; - Never had his brightest day-dream - Shone with half such wondrous grace. - - "You were playing in that garden, - Throwing blossoms in the air, - Laughing when the petals floated - Downwards on your golden hair; - And the fond eyes watching o'er you, - And the splendor spread before you, - Told a House's Hope was there. - - "When your servants, tired of seeing - Such a face of want and woe, - Turning to the ragged orphan, - Gave him coin, and bade him go, - Down his cheeks so thin and wasted - Bitter tears began to flow. - - "But that look of childish sorrow - On your tender child-heart fell, - And you plucked the reddest roses - From the tree you loved so well, - Passed them through the stern cold grating, - Gently bidding him 'Farewell!' - - "Dazzled by the fragrant treasure - And the gentle voice he heard, - In the poor forlorn boy's spirit, - Joy, the sleeping Seraph, stirred; - In his hand he took the flowers, - In his heart the loving word. - - "So he crept to his poor garret; - Poor no more, but rich and bright, - For the holy dreams of childhood-- - Love, and Rest, and Hope, and Light-- - Floated round the orphan's pillow - Through the starry summer night. - - "Day dawned, yet the visions lasted; - All too weak to rise he lay; - Did he dream that none spake harshly, - All were strangely kind that day? - Surely then his treasured roses - Must have charmed all ills away. - - "And he smiled, though they were fading; - One by one their leaves were shed; - 'Such bright things could never perish, - They would bloom again,' he said. - When the next day's sun had risen - Child and flowers both were dead. - - "Know, dear little one! our Father - Will no gentle deed disdain; - Love on the cold earth beginning - Lives divine in Heaven again, - While the angel hearts that beat there - Still all tender thoughts retain." - - So the angel ceased, and gently - O'er his little burden leant; - While the child gazing from the shining, - Loving eyes that o'er him bent, - To the blooming roses by him, - Wondering what that mystery meant. - - Thus the radiant angel answered, - And with tender meaning smiled: - "Ere your childlike, loving spirit, - Sin and the hard world defiled, - God has given me leave to seek you,-- - I was once that little child!" - - * * * * * - - In the churchyard of that city - Rose a tomb of marble rare - Decked, as soon as Spring awakened, - With her buds and blossoms fair,-- - And a humble grave beside it,-- - No one knew who rested there. - - --_Adelaide Procter._ - - - Jesus, the very thought of thee - With sweetness fills my breast: - But sweeter far thy face to see, - And in thy presence rest. - - Nor voice can sing, nor heart can frame, - Nor can the memory find - A sweeter sound than thy blest name, - O Saviour of mankind! - - O Hope of every contrite heart! - O Joy of all the meek! - To those who fall, how kind thou art! - How good to those who seek! - - But what to those who find? Ah! this, - Nor tongue nor pen can show; - The love of Jesus, what it is, - None but his loved ones know. - - Jesus, our only joy be thou, - As thou our prize wilt be; - Jesus, be thou our glory now, - And through eternity. - - --_Bernard._ - - -MORALITY. - - We cannot kindle when we will - The fire which in the heart resides; - The spirit bloweth and is still, - In mystery our soul abides. - But tasks in hours of insight willed - Can be through hours of gloom fulfilled. - - With aching hands and bleeding feet - We dig and heap, lay stone on stone; - We bear the burden and the heat - Of the long day, and wish 'twere done. - Not till the hours of light return, - All we have built do we discern. - - Then, when the clouds are off the soul, - When thou dost bask in nature's eye, - Ask how _she_ viewed thy self-control, - Thy struggling, tasked morality.-- - Nature, whose free, light, cheerful air, - Oft made thee, in thy gloom, despair. - - And she, whose censure thou dost dread, - Whose eye thou wast afraid to seek, - See, on her face a glow is spread, - A strong emotion on her cheek! - "Ah, child!" she cries, "that strife divine, - Whence was it, for it is not mine?" - - There is no effort on _my_ brow; - I do not strive, I do not weep: - I rush with the swift spheres, and glow - In joy, and when I will, I sleep. - Yet that severe, that earnest air, - I saw, I felt it once--but where? - - I knew not yet the gauge of time, - No more the manacles of space; - I felt it in some other clime, - I saw it in some other place. - 'Twas when the heavenly house I trod, - And lay upon the breast of God. - - --_Matthew Arnold._ - - -MORNING. - - Hues of the rich unfolding morn, - That, ere the glorious sun be born, - By some soft touch invisible, - Around his path are taught to swell;-- - - Thou rustling breeze, so fresh and gay, - That dancest forth at opening day, - And brushing by with joyous wing, - Wakenest each little leaf to sing;-- - - Ye fragrant clouds of dewy steam, - By which deep grove and tangled stream - Pay, for soft rains in season given, - Their tribute to the genial heaven;-- - - Why waste your treasures of delight - Upon our thankless, joyless sight, - Who, day by day, to sin awake, - Seldom of heaven and you partake? - - Oh! timely happy, timely wise, - Hearts that with rising morn arise! - Eyes that the beam celestial view, - Which evermore makes all things new! - - New every morning is the love - Our wakening and uprising prove: - Through sleep and darkness safely brought, - Restored to life, and power, and thought. - - New mercies, each returning day, - Hover around us while we pray; - New perils past, new sins forgiven, - New thoughts of God, new hopes of heaven. - - If on our daily course our mind - Be set, to hallow all we find, - New treasures still, of countless price, - God will provide for sacrifice. - - Old friends, old scenes, will lovelier be, - As more of heaven in each we see: - Some softening gleam of love and prayer - Shall dawn on every cross and care. - - As for some dear familiar strain - Untired we ask, and ask again. - Ever, in its melodious store, - Finding a spell unheard before. - - Such is the bliss of souls serene, - When they have sworn and steadfast mean, - Counting the cost, in all to espy - Their God, in all themselves deny. - - O could we learn that sacrifice, - What lights would all around us rise! - How would our hearts with wisdom talk - Along life's dullest, dreariest walk! - - We need not bid, for cloister'd cell, - Our neighbor and our work farewell, - Nor strive to wind ourselves too high - For sinful man beneath the sky: - - The trivial round, the common task, - Would furnish all we ought to ask; - Room to deny ourselves; a road - To bring us, daily, nearer God. - - Seek we no more; content with these, - Let present rapture, comfort, ease, - As heaven shall bid them, come and go:-- - The secret this of rest below. - - Only, O Lord, in Thy dear love - Fit us for perfect rest above; - And help us, this and every day, - To live more nearly as we pray. - - --_John Keble._ - - -DIVINE ORDER. - - 'Tis first the true and then the beautiful,-- - Not first the beautiful and then the true; - First the wild moor, with rock and reed and pool, - Then the gay garden, rich in scent and hue. - - 'Tis first the good and then the beautiful,-- - Not first the beautiful and then the good; - First the rough seed, sown in the rougher soil, - Then the flower-blossom, or the branching wood. - - Not first the glad and then the sorrowful,-- - But first the sorrowful, and then the glad; - Tears for a day,--for earth of tears is full, - Then we forget that we were ever sad. - - Not first the bright, and after that the dark,-- - But first the dark, and after that the bright; - First the thick cloud, and then the rainbow's arc, - First the dark grave, then resurrection-light. - - 'Tis first the night,--stern night of storm and war,-- - Long nights of heavy clouds and veiled skies; - Then the far sparkle of the Morning-star, - That bids the saints awake and dawn arise. - - --_Horatius Bonar._ - - -THE ISSUES OF LIFE AND DEATH. - - Oh, where shall rest be found-- - Rest for the weary soul? - 'Twere vain the ocean depths to sound, - Or pierce to either pole. - The world can never give - The bliss for which we sigh: - 'Tis not the whole of life to live, - Nor all of death to die. - - Beyond this vale of tears - There is a life above, - Unmeasured by the flight of years; - And all that life is love. - There is a death whose pang - Outlasts the fleeting breath: - Oh, what eternal horrors hang - Around the second death! - - Lord God of truth and grace, - Teach us that death to shun, - Lest we be banished from Thy face, - And evermore undone. - Here would we end our quest; - Alone are found in Thee, - The life of perfect love,--the rest - Of immortality. - - --_James Montgomery._ - - - Gracious Spirit, Love divine! - Let Thy light within me shine; - All my guilty fears remove, - Fill me full of heaven and love. - - Speak Thy pardoning grace to me, - Set the burdened sinner free; - Lead me to the Lamb of God, - Wash me in His precious blood. - - Life and peace to me impart, - Seal salvation on my heart; - Breathe Thyself into my breast,-- - Earnest of immortal rest. - - Let me never from Thee stray, - Keep me in the narrow way; - Fill my soul with love divine, - Keep me, Lord, forever Thine. - - --_Stocker._ - - -ST. AGNES' EVE. - - Deep on the convent roof the snows - Are sparkling to the moon: - My breath to heaven like vapor goes: - May my soul follow soon! - The shadows of the convent-towers - Slant down the snowy sward, - Still creeping with the creeping hours - That lead me to my Lord: - Make Thou my spirit pure and clear - As are the frosty skies, - Or this first snowdrop of the year - That in my bosom lies. - - As these white robes are soil'd and dark, - To yonder shining ground; - As this pale taper's earthly spark, - To yonder argent round; - So shows my soul before the Lamb, - My spirit before Thee; - So in mine earthly house I am, - To that I hope to be. - Break up the heavens, O Lord! and far, - Thro' all yon starlight keen, - Draw me, Thy bride, a glittering star, - In raiment white and clean. - - He lifts me to the golden doors; - The flashes come and go; - All heaven bursts her starry floors, - And strews her lights below, - And deepens on and up! the gates - Roll back, and far within - For me the Heavenly Bridegroom waits, - To make me pure of sin. - The sabbaths of Eternity, - One sabbath deep and wide-- - A light upon the shining sea-- - The Bridegroom with His bride! - - --_Alfred Tennyson._ - - -LIFE AND DEATH. - - "What is life, father?" - "A Battle, my child, - Where the strongest lance may fail, - Where the wariest eyes may be beguiled, - And the stoutest heart may quail. - Where the foes are gathered on every hand, - And rest not day or night, - And the feeble little ones must stand - In the thickest of the fight." - - "What is Death, father?" - "The rest, my child, - When the strife and toil are o'er; - The angel of God, who, calm and mild, - Says we need fight no more; - Who, driving away the demon band, - Bids the din of the battle cease; - Takes banner and spear from our failing hand, - And proclaims an eternal peace." - - "Let me die, father! I tremble, and fear - To yield in that terrible strife!" - "The crown must be won for Heaven, dear, - In the battle-field of life; - My child, though thy foes are strong and tried, - He loveth the weak and small; - The angels of heaven are on thy side, - And God is over all!" - - --_Adelaide Procter._ - - -THE ANGEL'S CALL. - - Come to the land of peace! - Come where the tempest hath no longer sway, - The shadow passes from the soul away, - The sounds of weeping cease. - - Fear hath no dwelling there! - Come to the mingling of repose and love, - Breathed by the silent spirit of the dove - Through the celestial air! - - Come to the bright and blest - And crown'd for ever!--'midst that shining band, - Gather'd to heaven's own wreath from every land, - Thy spirit shall find rest! - - Thou hast been long alone: - Come to thy mother!--on the sabbath shore, - The heart that rock'd thy childhood, back once more - Shall take its wearied one. - - In silence wert thou left! - Come to thy sisters!--joyously again - All the home voices, blest in one sweet strain, - Shall greet their long-bereft. - - Over thine orphan head - The storm hath swept as o'er a willow's bough: - Come to thy father!--it is finish'd now; - _Thy tears have all been shed_. - - In thy divine abode - Change finds no pathway, mem'ry no dark trace, - And, oh! bright victory--death by love no place! - Come, Spirit! to thy God! - - --_Mrs. Hemans._ - - - I would not live alway: I ask not to stay, - Where storm after storm rises dark o'er the way; - The few lurid mornings that dawn on us here - Are enough for life's woes, full enough for its cheer. - - I would not live alway, thus fettered by sin, - Temptation without and corruption within: - E'en the rapture of pardon is mingled with fears, - And the cup of thanksgiving with penitent tears. - - I would not live alway; no, welcome the tomb; - Since Jesus hath lain there, I dread not its gloom; - There sweet be my rest, till He bid me arise - To hail Him in triumph descending the skies. - - Who, who would live alway, away from his God! - Away from yon heaven, that blissful abode, - Where the rivers of pleasure flow o'er the bright plains, - And the noontide of glory eternally reigns. - - Where the saints of all ages in harmony meet, - Their Saviour and brethren transported to greet, - While the anthems of rapture unceasingly roll, - And the smile of the Lord is the feast of the soul. - - --_Muhlenberg._ - - - Jerusalem the golden, - With milk and honey blest, - Beneath thy contemplation - Sink heart and voice oppressed. - I know not, oh, I know not - What joys await us there, - What radiancy of glory, - What bliss beyond compare. - - They stand, those halls of Sion, - All jubilant with song, - And bright with many an Angel, - And all the Martyr throng; - The Prince is ever in them, - The daylight is serene; - The pastures of the blessed - Are decked in glorious sheen. - - There is the throne of David; - And there, from care released, - The shout of them that triumph, - The song of them that feast; - And they, who with their Leader - Have conquered in the fight, - For ever and for ever - Are clad in robes of white. - - O sweet and blessed country, - The home of GOD'S elect; - O sweet and blessed country - That eager hearts expect; - JESU, in mercy bring us - To that dear land of rest; - Who art, with GOD the FATHER - And SPIRIT, ever Blest. - - --_Bernard._ - - - When our heads are bowed with woe, - When our bitter tears o'erflow, - When we mourn the lost, the dear, - Gracious Son of Mary, hear! - Thou our throbbing flesh hast worn, - Thou our mortal griefs hast borne, - Thou hast shed the human tear: - Gracious Son of Mary, hear! - - When the solemn death-bell tolls - For our own departing souls, - When our final doom is near, - Gracious Son of Mary, hear! - Thou hast bowed the dying head, - Thou the blood of life hast shed, - Thou hast filled a mortal bier: - Gracious Son of Mary, hear! - - When the heart is sad within - With the thought of all its sin, - When the spirit shrinks with fear, - Gracious Son of Mary, hear! - Thou, the same, the grief hast known; - Though the sins were not Thine own, - Thou hast deigned their load to bear: - Gracious Son of Mary, hear! - - --_Heber._ - - - O soul, soul, thou art passing, - Just now, the border lands: - Soul, soul, thy God is calling - Thee, from the border lands. - Soul, soul, what wilt thou answer, - When thou shalt stand alone, - Before thy God and Saviour, - 'Midst th' glories of the throne? - - How hast thou passed the border? - What course pursued below? - Of all I gave thee, warder, - Hast conquered every foe? - Soul, soul, hear Jesus calling! - He waits for thee above, - Oh! answer now, responding - In faith, and hope, and love. - - --_Henry C. Graves._ - - -THE LOOK. - - The Saviour looked on Peter. Aye, no word-- - No gesture of reproach! The heavens serene - Though heavy with armed justice, did not lean - Their thunders that way. The forsaken Lord - _Looked_ only, on the traitor. None record - What that look was; none guess: for those who have seen - Wronged lovers loving through a death-pang keen, - Or pale-cheeked martyrs smiling to a sword, - Have missed Jehovah at the judgment call, - And Peter, from the height of blasphemy-- - 'I never knew this man' did quail and fall, - As knowing straight THAT GOD,--and turned free - And went out speechless from the face of all, - And filled the silence, weeping bitterly. - - --_Elizabeth Barrett Browning._ - - -THE MEANING OF THE LOOK. - - I think that look of Christ might seem to say-- - 'Thou Peter! art thou then a common stone - Which I at last must break my heart upon, - For all God's charge to His high angels may - Guard my foot better? Did I yesterday - Wash _thy_ feet, my beloved, that they should run - Quick to deny me 'neath the morning sun, - And do thy kisses, like the rest, betray? - The cock crows coldly.--Go and manifest - A late contrition, but no bootless fear! - For when thy final need is dreariest, - Thou shalt not be denied, as I am here, - My voice, to God and angels shall attest, - '_Because I_ KNOW _this man, let him be clear_.' - - --_Elizabeth Barrett Browning._ - - -COMFORT. - - Speak low to me, my Saviour, low and sweet - From out the hallelujahs, sweet and low. - Lest I should fear and fall, and miss Thee so - Who art not missed by any that entreat. - Speak to me as to Mary at Thy feet-- - And if no precious gums my hands bestow, - Let my tears drop like amber, while I go - In reach of Thy divinest voice complete - In humanest affection--thus in sooth, - To lose the sense of losing! As a child - Whose song-bird seeks the wood for evermore, - Is sung to in its stead by mother's mouth; - Till, sinking on her breast, love reconciled, - He sleeps the faster that he wept before. - - --_Elizabeth Barrett Browning._ - - -SUBSTITUTION. - - When some beloved voice that was to you - Both sound and sweetness, faileth suddenly, - And silence against which you dare not cry, - Aches round you like a strong disease and new-- - What hope? what help? what music will undo - That silence to your sense? Not friendship's sigh-- - Nor reason's subtle count! Not melody - Of viols, nor of pipes that Faunus blew-- - Not songs of poets, nor of nightingales, - Whose hearts leap upward through the cypress trees - To the clear moon: nor yet the spheric laws - Self-chanted,--nor the angels' sweet All hails, - Met in the smile of God. Nay, none of these. - Speak THOU, availing Christ! and fill this pause. - - --_Elizabeth Barrett Browning._ - - -TEARS. - - Thank God, bless God, all ye who suffer not - More grief than ye can weep for. That is well-- - That is light grieving! lighter, none befell, - Since Adam forfeited the primal lot. - Tears! what are tears? The babe weeps in its cot, - The mother singing; at her marriage-bell - The bride weeps; and before the oracle - Of high-famed hills, the poet has forgot - Such moisture on his cheeks. Thank God for grace, - Ye who weep only! If, as some have done, - Ye grope tear-blinded in a desert place, - And touch but tombs,--look up! Those tears will run - Soon in long rivers down the lifted face, - And leave the vision clear for stars and sun. - - --_Elizabeth Barrett Browning._ - - -CHEERFULNESS TAUGHT BY REASON. - - I think we are too ready with complaint - In this fair world of God's. Had we no hope - Indeed beyond the zenith and the slope - Of yon gray bank of sky, we might be faint - To muse upon eternity's constraint - Round our aspirant souls. But since the scope - Must widen early, is it well to droop - For a few days consumed in loss and taint? - O pusillanimous Heart, be comforted,-- - And, like a cheerful traveler, take the road, - Singing beside the hedge. What if the bread - Be bitter in thy inn, and thou unshod - To meet the flints?--At least it may be said, - Because the way is _short_, I thank Thee, God! - - --_Elizabeth Barrett Browning._ - - -THE PROSPECT. - - Methinks we do as fretful children do, - Leaning their faces on the window pane - To sigh the glass dim with their own breath's stain, - And shut the sky and landscape from their view, - And thus, alas! since God the maker drew - A mystic separation 'twixt those twain, - The life beyond us, and our souls in pain, - We miss the prospect which we're called unto. - By grief we're fools to use. Be still and strong, - O man, my brother! hold thy sobbing breath, - And keep thy soul's large window pure from wrong,-- - That so, as life's appointment issueth, - Thy vision may be clear to watch along - The sunset consummation-lights of death. - - --_Elizabeth Barrett Browning._ - - -CONSOLATION. - - All are not taken! there are left behind - Living Beloveds, tender looks to bring, - And make the daylight still a happy thing, - And tender voices to make soft the wind. - But if it were not so--if I could find - No love in all the world for comforting, - Nor any path but hollowly did ring, - Where 'dust to dust' the love from life disjoined-- - And if before these sepulchres unmoving - I stood alone, (as some forsaken lamb - Goes bleating up the moors in weary dearth) - Crying 'Where are ye, O my loved and loving?' - I know a voice would sound, 'Daughter, I AM. - Can I suffice for HEAVEN, and not for earth?' - - --_Elizabeth Barrett Browning._ - - -A THOUGHT OVER A CRADLE. - - I sadden when thou smilest to my smile, - Child of my love! I tremble to believe - That o'er the mirror of that eye of blue - The shadow of my heart will always pass;-- - A heart that, from its struggle with the world, - Comes nightly to thy guarded cradle home, - And, careless of the staining dust it brings, - Asks for its idol! Strange, that flowers of earth - Are visited by every air that stirs, - And drink its sweetness only, while the child - That shuts within its breast a bloom for heaven, - May take a blemish from the breath of love, - And bear the blight forever. - - I have wept - With gladness at the gift of this fair child! - My life is bound up in her. But, oh God! - Thou know'st how heavily my heart at times - Bears its sweet burthen; and if Thou hast given - To nurture such as mine this spotless flower, - To bring it unpolluted unto Thee, - _Take Thou its love_, I pray thee! Give it light-- - Though, following the sun, it turn from me!-- - But, by the chord thus wrung, and by the light - Shining about her, draw me to my child! - And link us close, oh God, when near to heaven! - - --_N. P. Willis._ - - -EVERLASTING BLESSINGS. - - "I know that whatsoever God doeth it shall be forever." - --ECCLES. iii. 14. - - O what everlasting blessings God outpoureth on His own! - Ours by promise true and faithful, spoken from eternal throne; - Ours by His eternal purpose ere the universe had place; - Ours by everlasting covenant, ours by free and royal grace. - - With salvation everlasting He shall save us, He shall bless - With the largess of Messiah, everlasting righteousness; - Ours the everlasting mercy all His wondrous dealings prove; - Ours His everlasting kindness, fruit of everlasting love. - - In the Lord Jehovah trusting, everlasting strength have we; - He Himself, our Sun, our Glory, everlasting Light shall be; - Everlasting life is ours, purchased by The Life laid down; - And our heads, oft bowed and weary, everlasting joy shall crown. - - We shall dwell with Christ forever, when the shadows flee away, - In the everlasting glory of the everlasting day. - Unto Thee, belovèd Saviour, everlasting thanks belong, - Everlasting adoration, everlasting land and song. - - --_Frances Ridley Havergal._ - - -THE MOTHER TO HER CHILD. - - They tell me thou art come from a far world, - Babe of my bosom! that these little arms, - Whose restlessness is like the spread of wings, - Move with the memory of flights scarce o'er-- - That through these fringed lids we see the soul - Steep'd in the blue of its remember'd home; - And while thou sleep'st come messengers, they say, - Whispering to thee--and 'tis then I see - Upon thy baby lips that smile of heaven! - And what is thy far errand, my fair child? - Why away, wandering from a home of bliss, - To find thy way through darkness home again? - Wert thou an untried dweller in the sky? - Is there, betwixt the cherub that thou wert, - The cherub and the angel thou may'st be, - A life's probation in this sadder world? - Art thou with memory of two things only, - Music and light, left upon earth astray, - And, by the watchers at the gate of heaven, - Look'd for with fear and trembling? - God! who gavest - Into my guiding hand this wanderer, - To lead her through a world whose darkling paths - I tread with steps so faltering--leave not me - To bring her to the gates of heaven, alone! - I feel my feebleness. Let _these_ stay on-- - The angels who now visit her in dreams! - Bid them be near her pillow till in death - The closed eyes look upon Thy face once more! - And let the light and music, which the world - Borrows of heaven, and which her infant sense - Hails with sweet recognition, be to her - A voice to call her upward, and a lamp - To lead her steps unto Thee! - - --_N. P. Willis._ - - -GIVE ME THY HEART. - - With echoing steps the worshipers - Departed one by one; - The organ's pealing voice was stilled, - The vesper hymn was done; - The shadows fell from roof and arch, - Dim was the incensed air, - One lamp alone, with trembling ray, - Told of the Presence there! - - In the dark church she knelt alone; - Her tears were falling fast; - "Help, Lord," she cried, "the shades of death - Upon my soul are cast! - Have I not shunned the path of sin, - And chosen the better part?"-- - What voice came through the sacred air?-- - "_My child, give me thy Heart!_" - - "Have I not laid before Thy shrine - My wealth, O Lord?" she cried; - "Have I kept aught of gems or gold, - To minister to pride? - Have I not bade youth's joys retire, - And vain delights depart?"-- - But sad and tender was the voice,-- - "_My child, give me thy Heart!_" - - "Have I not, Lord, gone day by day - Where Thy poor children dwell; - And carried help, and gold, and food? - O Lord, Thou knowest it well? - From many a house, from many a soul, - My hand bids care depart:"-- - More sad, more tender was the voice,-- - "_My child, give me thy Heart!_" - - "Have I not worn my strength away - With fast and penance sore? - Have I not watched and wept?" she cried; - "Did Thy dear saints do more? - Have I not gained Thy grace, O Lord, - And won in heaven my part?"-- - It echoed louder in her soul,-- - "_My child, give me thy Heart!_" - - "For I have loved thee with a love - No mortal heart can show; - A love so deep, my saints in heaven - Its depths can never know; - When pierced and wounded on the cross, - Man's sin and doom were mine, - I loved Thee with undying love, - Immortal and divine! - - "I loved Thee ere the skies were spread; - My soul bears all thy pains; - To gain thy love my sacred heart - In earthly shrines remains: - Vain are thy offerings, vain thy sighs, - Without one gift divine; - Give it my child, thy heart to me, - And it shall rest in mine!" - - In awe she listened, and the shade - Passed from her soul away; - In low and trembling voice she cried,-- - "Lord, help me to obey! - Break Thou the chains of earth, O Lord, - That bind and hold my heart; - Let it be Thine, and Thine alone, - Let none with Thee have part. - - "Send down, O Lord, Thy sacred fire! - Consume and cleanse the sin - That lingers still within its depths; - Let heavenly love begin. - That sacred flame Thy saints have known, - Kindle, O Lord, in me, - Thou above all the rest forever, - And all the rest in Thee." - - The blessing fell upon her soul; - Her angel by her side - Knew that the hour of peace was come; - Her soul was purified: - The shadows fell from roof and arch, - Dim was the incensed air,-- - But Peace went with her as she left - The sacred Presence there! - - --_Adelaide Procter._ - - - One sweetly solemn thought - Comes to me o'er and o'er: - I'm nearer home to-day - Than I have been before; - Nearer my Father's house, - Where many mansions be, - Nearer the great white throne, - Nearer the crystal sea. - - Nearer the bound of life, - Where burdens are laid down, - Nearer to leave the cross, - And nearer to the crown; - But lying dark between, - And winding through the night, - The deep and unknown stream - Crossed ere we reach the light. - - Jesus, confirm my trust; - Strengthen the hand of faith - To feel Thee, when I stand - Upon the shore of death. - Be near me when my feet - Are slipping o'er the brink; - For I am nearer home, - Perhaps, than now I think. - - --_Phoebe Cary._ - - -LEFT BEHIND. - - Look at this starbeam! From its place of birth, - It has come down to greet us here below; - Now it alights unwearied on this earth, - Nor storm nor night have quenched its heavenly glow. - - Unbent before the winter's rugged blast, - Unsoiled by this sad planet's tainted air, - It sparkles out from yon unmeasured vast, - Bright 'mid the brightest, 'mid the fairest fair. - - Undimmed it reaches me; but yet alone: - The thousand gay companions that took wing - Along with it have perished one by one, - Scattered o'er space like blossoms of the spring. - - Some to yon nearer orbs have sped their course, - Yon city's smoke has quenched a thousand more; - Myriads in yon dark cloud have spent their force; - A few stray gleams are all that reach our shore. - - And with us! How many, who began - Life's race with us, are dropping by the way; - Losing themselves in darkness one by one, - From the glad goal departing wide astray; - - When we shall reach the kingdom of the blest, - How few who started with us shall we find - Arriving or arrived, for glorious rest! - How many shall we mourn as left behind! - - --_Horatius Bonar._ - - - Lord, what a change within us one short hour - Spent in Thy presence will prevail to make-- - What heavy burdens from our bosoms take, - What parched grounds refresh, as with a shower! - We kneel, and all around us seems to lower; - We rise, and all, the distant and the near, - Stands forth in sunny outline, brave and clear; - We kneel how weak, we rise how full of power! - Why, therefore, should we do ourselves this wrong, - Or others--that we are not always strong; - That we are ever overborne with care; - That we should ever weak or heartless be, - Anxious or troubled, when with us is prayer, - And joy, and strength, and courage, are with Thee? - - --_Richard Chenevix Trench._ - - -OUR FATHER. - - Oh that I loved the Father - With depth of conscious love, - As steadfast, bright, and burning - As seraphim above! - But how can I be deeming - Myself a loving child, - When here, and there, and everywhere, - My thoughts are wandering wild? - - It is my chief desire - To know Him more and more, - To follow Him more fully - Than I have done before: - My eyes are dim with longing - To see the Lord above; - But oh! I fear from year to year, - I do not truly love. - - 'For when I try to follow - The mazes of my soul, - I find no settled fire of love - Illumining the whole; - 'Tis all uncertain twilight, - No clear and vivid glow; - Would I could bring to God my King - The perfect love I owe!' - - The gift is great and holy, - 'Twill not be sought in vain; - But look up for a moment - From present doubt and pain, - And calmly tell me _how_ you love - The dearest ones below? - "This love," say you, "is deep and true!" - But tell me how you know? - - How do you love your father? - "Oh in a thousand ways! - I think there's no one like him, - So worthy of my praise, - I tell him all my troubles, - And ask him what to do; - I know that he will give to me - His counsel kind and true. - - "Then every little service - Of hand, or pen, or voice, - Becomes, if he has asked it, - The service of my choice. - And from my own desires - 'Tis not so hard to part, - If once I know I follow so - His wiser will and heart." - - 'I know the flush of pleasure - That o'er my spirit came, - When far from home with strangers, - They caught my father's name; - And for his sake the greeting - Was mutual and sweet, - For if they knew my father too, - How glad we were to meet! - - 'And when I heard them praising - His music and his skill, - His words of holy teaching, - Life-preaching, holier still, - How eagerly I listened - To every word that fell! - 'Twas joy to hear that name so dear - Both known and loved so well. - - 'Once I was ill and suffering, - Upon a foreign shore, - And longed to see my father, - As I never longed before. - He came: his arm around me; - I leaned upon his breast; - I did not long to feel more strong, - So sweet that childlike rest. - - 'The thought of home is pleasant, - Yet I should hardly care - To leave my present fair abode, - Unless I knew him there. - All other love and pleasure - Can never crown the place, - A home to me it cannot be - Without my fathers face.' - - This is no fancy drawing, - But every line is true, - And you have traced as strong a love - As ever daughter knew. - But though its fond expression - Is rather lived than told, - You do not say from day to day, - 'I fear my love is cold!' - - You do not think about it; - 'Tis never in your thought-- - 'I wonder if I love him - As deeply as I ought? - I know his approbation - Outweighs all other meed, - That his employ is always joy, - But do I love indeed?' - - Now let your own words teach you - The higher, holier claim - Of Him, who condescends to bear - A Father's gracious name. - No mystic inspiration, - No throbbings forced and wild - He asks, but just the loving trust - Of a glad and grateful child. - - The rare and precious moments - Of realizing thrill, - Are but love's blissful blossom, - To brighten, not to fill - The storehouse and the garner - With ripe and pleasant fruit; - And not alone by these is shown - The true and holy root. - - What if your own dear father - Were summoned to his rest! - One lives, by whom that bitterest grief - Could well be soothed and blessed. - Like balm upon your sharpest woe - His still, small voice would fall; - His touch would heal, you could not feel - That you had lost your all. - - But what if He, the Lord of life, - Could ever pass away! - What if _His_ name were blotted out, - And you could know to-day - There was _no_ heavenly Father, - No Saviour dear and true, - No throne of grace, no resting-place, - No living God for you! - - We need not dwell in horror - On what can never be, - Such endless desolation, - Such undreamt misery. - Our reason could not bear it, - And all the love of earth, - In fullest bliss, compared with this, - Were nothing, _nothing_ worth. - - Then bring your poor affection, - And try it by this test; - The hidden depth is fathomed, - You see you love Him _best_! - 'Tis but a feeble echo - Of His great love to you, - Yet in His ear each note is dear, - Its harmony is true. - - It is an uncut jewel, - All earth-incrusted now, - But He will make it glorious, - And set it on His brow: - 'Tis but a tiny glimmer, - Lit from the light above, - But it shall blaze through endless days, - A star of perfect love. - - --_Frances Ridley Havergal._ - - - Thou art the Way: to thee alone - From sin and death we flee; - And he who would the Father seek, - Must seek Him, Lord, by Thee. - - Thou art the Truth; Thy word alone - True wisdom can impart; - Thou only canst instruct the mind, - And purify the heart. - - Thou art the Life: the rending tomb - Proclaims Thy conquering arm; - And those who put their trust in Thee - Nor death nor hell shall harm. - - Thou art the Way, the Truth, the Life: - Grant us to know that Way; - That Truth to keep, that Life to win, - Which leads to endless day. - - --_Doane._ - - -THE NIGHT AND THE MORNING. - - To dream a troubled dream, and then awaken - To the soft gladness of a summer sky; - To dream ourselves alone, unloved, forsaken, - And then to wake 'mid smiles, and love, and joy; - - To look at evening on the storm's rude motion, - The cloudy tumult of the fretted deep; - And then at day-burst upon that same ocean, - Soothed to the stillness of its stillest sleep-- - - So runs our course--so tells the church her story, - So to the end shall it be ever told; - Brief shame on earth, but after shame the glory, - That wanes not, dims not, never waxes old. - - Lord Jesus, come, and end this troubled dreaming. - Dark shadows vanish, rosy twilight break! - Morn of the true and real, burst forth, calm-beaming. - Day of the beautiful, arise, awake! - - --_Horatius Bonar._ - - -IN AFFLICTION. - - Father! Thy will, not mine, be done! - So prayed on earth Thy suffering Son, - So, in His name I pray: - The spirit fails, the flesh is weak; - Thy help in agony I seek; - O! take this cup away. - - If such be not Thy sovereign will, - Thy wiser purpose then fulfil; - My wishes I resign, - Into Thine hands my soul commend, - On Thee for life or death depend; - Thy will be done, not mine. - - --_James Montgomery._ - - - Give to the winds thy fears; - Hope, and be undismay'd; - God hears thy sighs, and counts thy tears. - God shall lift up thy head. - - Through waves, through clouds and storms, - He gently clears thy way; - Wait thou His time; so shall this night - Soon end in joyous day. - - Still heavy is thy heart? - Still sink thy spirits down? - Cast off the weight, let fear depart, - Bid every care be gone. - - What though thou rulest not! - Yet heaven, and earth, and hell - Proclaim, God sitteth on the throne, - And ruleth all things well. - - --_Gerhard._ - - - Where wilt thou put thy trust? - In a frail form of clay, - That to its element of dust - Must soon resolve away? - - Where will thou cast thy care? - Upon an erring heart, - Which hath its own sore ills to bear, - And shrinks from sorrow's dart? - - No! place thy trust above - This shadowy realm of night, - In Him, whose boundless power and love - Thy confidence invite. - - His mercies still endure - When skies and stars grow dim, - His changeless promise standeth sure, - Go,--cast thy care on Him. - - --_Mrs. Sigourney._ - - - One there is above all others, - Well deserves the name of Friend; - His is love beyond a brother's, - Costly, free and knows no end. - - Which of all our friends, to save us, - Could or would have shed his blood? - But our Jesus died to have us - Reconciled in Him to God. - - When He lived on earth abasèd, - Friend of sinners was His name; - Now, above all glory raisèd, - He rejoices in the same. - - Could we bear from one another - What He daily bears from us? - Yet this glorious Friend and Brother - Loves us though we treat Him thus. - - Oh for grace our hearts to soften! - Teach us, Lord, at length to love! - We, alas! forget too often - What a Friend we have above. - - --_Newton._ - - - God moves in a mysterious way - His wonders to perform; - He plants His footsteps in the sea, - And rides upon the storm. - - Deep in unfathomable mines - Of never-failing skill, - He treasures up His vast designs, - And works His sovereign will. - - Ye fearful saints, fresh courage take; - The clouds ye so much dread - Are big with mercy, and will break - In blessings on your head. - - Judge not the Lord by feeble sense, - But trust Him for His grace; - Behind a frowning providence - He hides a smiling face. - - His purposes will ripen fast, - Unfolding every hour, - The bud may have a bitter taste, - But sweet will be the flower. - - Blind unbelief is sure to err, - And scan His work in vain; - God is His own interpreter, - And he will make it plain. - - --_Cowper._ - - - Onward, Christian, though the region - Where thou art be drear and lone; - God has set a guardian legion - Very near thee; press thou on. - - Listen, Christian; their hosanna - Rolleth o'er thee: "God is love," - Write upon thy red-cross banner, - "Upward ever; heaven's above." - - By the thorn-road, and none other, - Is the mount of vision won; - Tread it without shrinking, brother; - Jesus trod it; press thou on. - - Be this world the wiser, stronger, - For thy life of pain and peace, - While it needs thee; oh! no longer - Pray thou for thy quick release. - - Pray thou, Christian, daily rather, - That thou be a faithful son; - By the prayer of Jesus, "Father, - Not my will, but thine, be done." - - --_Johnson._ - - -THANKFULNESS. - - My God, I thank Thee who hast made - The Earth so bright; - So full of splendor and of joy, - Beauty and light; - So many glorious things are here, - Noble and right! - - I thank Thee, too, that Thou hast made - Joy to abound: - So many gentle thoughts and deeds - Circling us round, - That in the darkest spot of Earth - Some love is found. - - I thank Thee _more_ than all our joy - Is touched with pain; - That shadows fall on brightest hours; - That thorns remain; - So that Earth's bliss may be our guide, - And not our chain. - - For Thou who knowest, Lord, how soon - Our weak heart clings, - Hast given us joys, tender and true, - Yet all with wings, - So that we see, gleaming on high, - Diviner things! - - I thank Thee, Lord, that Thou hast kept - The best in store; - We have enough, yet, not too much - To long for more: - A yearning for a deeper peace, - Not known before. - - I thank Thee, Lord, that here our souls, - Though amply blest, - Can never find, although they seek, - A perfect rest,-- - Nor ever shall, until they lean - On Jesus' breast! - - --_Adelaide Procter._ - - - Does the Gospel word proclaim - Rest for those that weary be? - Then, my soul put in thy claim-- - Sure that promise speaks to thee! - - Marks of grace I cannot show, - All polluted is my best; - But I weary am, I know, - And the weary long for rest. - - Burdened with a load of sin, - Harassed with tormenting doubt, - Hourly conflicts from within, - Hourly crosses from without;-- - - All my little strength is gone, - Sink I must without supply; - Sure upon the earth is none - Can more weary be than I. - - In the ark the weary dove - Found a welcome resting-place; - Thus my spirit longs to prove - Rest in Christ, the Ark of grace. - - Tempest-tossed I long have been, - And the flood increases fast; - Open, Lord, and take me in, - Till the storm be overpast! - - --_Newton._ - - My God, my Father, while I stray - Far from my home on life's rough way, - Oh, teach me from my heart to say, - "Thy will be done, Thy will be done!" - - What though in love or grief I sigh - For friends beloved no longer nigh; - Submissive still would I reply, - "Thy will be done, Thy will be done!" - - If thou shouldst call me to resign - What most I prize,--it ne'er was mine; - I only yield thee what was Thine: - "Thy will be done, Thy will be done!" - - If but my fainting heart be blest - With Thy sweet Spirit for its guest, - My God, to Thee I leave the rest; - "Thy will be done, Thy will be done!" - - --_C. Elliott._ - - -THE SEEN AND THE UNSEEN. - - ON THE GREAT EXHIBITION, 1851. - - Ha! yon burst of crystal splendor, - Sunlight, starlight, blent in one; - Starlight set in arctic azure, - Sunlight from the burning zone! - Gold and silver, gems and marble, - All creation's jewelry; - Earth's uncovered waste of riches, - Treasures of the ancient sea. - Heir of glory, - What is that to thee and me? - - Iris and Aurora braided-- - How the woven colors shine! - Snow-gleams from an Alpine summit. - Torch-light from a spar-roofed mine. - Like Arabia's matchless palace, - Child of magic's strong decree, - One vast globe of living sapphire, - Floor, walls, columns, canopy. - Heir of glory, - What is that to thee and me? - - Forms of beauty, shapes of wonder, - Trophies of triumphant toil; - Never Athens, Rome, Palmyra, - Gazed on such a costly spoil. - Dazzling the bewildered vision, - More than princely pomp we see: - What the blaze of the Alhambra, - Dome of emerald, to thee? - Heir of glory, - What is that to thee and me? - - Farthest cities pour their riches, - Farthest empires muster here, - Art her jubilee proclaiming - To the nations far and near. - From the crowd in wonder gazing, - Science claims the prostrate knee; - This her temple, diamond-blazing, - Shrine of her idolatry. - Heir of glory, - What is that to thee and me? - - Listen to her tale of wonder, - Of her plastic, potent spell; - 'Tis a big and braggart story, - Yet she tells it fair and well. - She the gifted, gay magician, - Mistress of earth, air, and sea; - This majestic apparition, - Offspring of her sorcery. - Heir of glory, - What is that to thee and me? - - What to that for which we're waiting - Is this glittering earthly toy? - Heavenly glory, holy splendor, - Sum of grandeur, sum of joy. - Not the gems that time can tarnish, - Not the hues that dim and die, - Not the glow that cheats the lover, - Shaded with mortality. - Heir of glory, - That shall be for thee and me! - - Not the light that leaves us darker, - Nor the gleams that come and go, - Not the mirth whose end is madness, - Not the joy whose fruit is woe; - Not the notes that die at sunset, - Not the fashion of a day; - But the everlasting beauty, - And the endless melody. - Heir of glory, - That shall be for thee and me! - - City of the pearl-bright portal; - City of the jasper wall; - City of the golden pavement; - Seat of endless festival. - City of Jehovah, Salem, - City of eternity, - To thy bridal-hall of gladness, - From this prison would I flee. - Heir of glory, - That shall be for thee and me! - - Ah! with such strange spells around me, - Fairest of what earth calls fair, - How I need thy fairer image, - To undo the syren snare? - Lest the subtle serpent-tempter - Lure me with his radiant lie; - As if sin were sin no longer, - Life were no more vanity. - Heir of glory, - What is that to thee and me? - - Yes, I need _thee_, heavenly city, - My low spirit to upbear; - Yes, I need thee--earth's enchantments - So beguile me with their glare. - Let me see thee, then these fetters - Break asunder; I am free; - Then this pomp no longer chains me; - Faith has won the victory. - Heir of glory, - That shall be for thee and me? - - Soon where earthly beauty blinds not, - No excess of brilliance palls, - Salem, city of the holy, - We shall be within thy walls! - There, beside you crystal river, - There, beneath life's wondrous tree, - There, with naught to cloud or sever-- - Ever with the Lamb to be! - Heir of glory, - That shall be for thee and me! - - --_Horatius Bonar._ - - - I am far frae my hame, an' I'm weary aftenwhiles, - For the langed-far hame-bringin', an' my Father's welcome smiles, - An' I'll ne'er be fu' content, until mine een do see - The gowden gates o' heav'n an' my ain countrie. - The earth is fleck'd wi' flowers, mony-tinted, fresh an' gay, - The birdies warble blithely, for my Faither made them sae: - But these sights an' these soun's will as naething be to me, - When I hear the angels singin' in my ain countrie. - - I've His gude word of promise that some gladsome day, the King - To His ain royal palace His banished hame will bring; - Wi' een an' wi' hert rinning ower, we shall see - The King in His beauty, in oor ain countrie. - My sins hae been mony, an' my sorrows hae been sair, - But there they'll never vex me, nor be remembered mair - For His bluid has made me white, and His han' shall dry my e'e, - When He brings me hame at last, to my ain countrie. - - Sae little noo I ken, o' yon blessed, bonnie place, - I only ken it's Hame, whaur we shall see His face: - It wad surely be eneuch for ever mair to be - In the glory o' His presence, in oor ain countrie. - Like a bairn to his mither, a wee birdie to its nest, - I wad fain' be gangin' noo, unto my Saviour's breast, - For He gathers in His bosom witless, worthless lambs like me, - And carries them Himsel', to His ain countrie. - - He is faithfu' that hath promised, an' He'll surely come again, - He'll keep His tryst wi' me, at what hour I dinna ken; - But He bids me still to wait, an' ready aye to be, - To gang at ony moment to my ain countrie. - Sae I'm watching aye, an' singin' o' my hame as I wait - For the soun'ing o' His footfa' this side the gowden gate: - God gie His grace to ilka ane wha' listens noo to me, - That we a' may gang in gladness to oor ain countrie. - - (_Unidentified._) - - -THE SINNER'S FRIEND. - - O thou, the contrite sinner's Friend, - Who loving, lov'st them to the end, - On this alone my hopes depend, - That Thou wilt plead for me! - - When, weary in the Christian race, - Far-off appears my resting-place, - And fainting, I mistrust Thy grace-- - Then, Saviour, plead for me! - - When I have err'd and gone astray - Afar from Thine own and Wisdom's way, - And see no glimmering guiding ray-- - Still, Saviour, plead for me! - - When Satan, by my sins made bold, - Strives from Thy cross to loose my hold, - Then with Thy pitying arms enfold, - And plead, oh, plead for me! - - And when my dying hour draws near, - Darken'd with anguish, guilt, and fear, - Then to my fainting sight appear, - Pleading in Heaven for me! - - When the full light of Heavenly day - Reveals my sins in dread array, - Say, Thou hast wash'd them all away; - Oh, say, Thou plead'st for me! - - --_Charlotte Elliott._ - - -EVENING PRAYER AT A GIRL'S SCHOOL. - - "Now in thy youth, beseech of Him, - Who giveth, upbraiding not, - That His light in thy heart become not dim, - And His love be unforgot; - And thy God, in the darkest of days, will be - Greenness, and beauty, and strength to thee." - - --_Bernard Barton._ - - Hush! 'tis a holy hour--the quiet room - Seems like a temple, while yon soft lamp sheds - A faint and starry radiance, through the gloom - And the sweet stillness, down on bright young heads, - With all their clustering locks, untouched by care, - And bowed, as flowers are bowed with night--in prayer. - - Gaze on,--'tis lovely! childhood's lip and cheek, - Mantling beneath its earnest brow of thought-- - Gaze--yet what seest thou in those fair, and meek, - And fragile things, as but for sunshine wrought? - Thou seest what grief must nurture for the sky, - What death must fashion for eternity! - - Oh! joyous creatures, that will sink to rest, - Lightly, when those pure orisons are done, - As birds with slumber's honey-dew oppressed, - 'Midst the dim folded leaves, at set of sun-- - Lift up your hearts! though yet no sorrow lies - Dark in the summer-heaven of those clear eyes; - - Though fresh within your breasts th' untroubled springs - Of hope make melody where'er ye tread; - And o'er your sleep bright shadows, from the wings - Of spirits visiting but youth, be spread; - Yet in those flute-like voices, mingling low, - Is woman's tenderness--how soon her woe! - - Her lot is on you--silent tears to weep, - And patient smiles to wear through suffering's hour, - And sunless riches, from affection's deep, - To pour on broken reeds--a wasted shower? - And to make idols, and to find them clay, - And to bewail that worship--therefore pray! - - Her lot is on you--to be found untired, - Watching the stars out by the bed of pain, - With a pale cheek, and yet a brow inspired, - And a true heart of hope, though hope be vain. - Meekly to bear with wrong, to cheer decay, - And oh! to love through all things--therefore pray! - - And take the thought of this calm vesper time, - With its low murmuring sounds and silvery light, - On through the dark days fading from their prime, - As a sweet dew to keep your souls from blight. - Earth will forsake--oh! happy to have given - Th' unbroken heart's first fragrance unto Heaven. - - --_Mrs. Hemans._ - - - I worship thee, sweet Will of God! - And all thy ways adore; - And every day I live, I seem - To love thee more and more. - - Thou wert the end, the blessed rule - Of our Saviour's toils and tears; - Thou wert the passion of His Heart - Those three-and-thirty years. - - And He hath breathed into my soul - A special love of thee, - A love to lose my will in His, - And by that loss be free. - - I love to see thee bring to nought - The plans of wily men; - When simple hearts outwit the wise, - Oh thou art loveliest then! - - The headstrong world, it presses hard - Upon the church full oft, - And then how easily thou turn'st - The hard ways into soft. - - I love to kiss each print where thou - Hast set thine unseen feet; - I cannot fear thee, blessèd will, - Thine empire is so sweet. - - When obstacles and trials seem - Like prison-walls to be, - I do the little I can do, - And leave the rest to thee. - - I know not what it is to doubt; - My heart is ever gay; - I run no risk, for come what will, - Thou always hast thy way. - - I have no cares, O blessèd will, - For all my cares are thine; - I live in triumph, Lord, for thou - Hast made thy triumphs mine. - - And when it seems no chance or change - From grief can set me free, - Hope finds its strength in helplessness, - And gayly waits on thee. - - Man's weakness waiting upon God - Its end can never miss, - For men on earth no work can do - More angel-like than this. - - Ride on, ride on triumphantly, - Thou glorious Will! ride on; - Faith's pilgrim sons behind thee take - The road that thou hast gone. - - He always wins who sides with God, - To him no chance is lost; - God's will is sweetest to him when - It triumphs at his cost. - - Ill, that God blesses, is our good, - And unblest good is ill; - And all is right that seems most wrong, - If it be his dear will! - - --_F. W. Faber._ - - -THE PEACE OF GOD. - - We ask for Peace, O Lord! - Thy children ask Thy peace; - Not what the world calls rest, - That toil and care should cease, - That through bright sunny hours - Calm Life should fleet away, - And tranquil night should fade - In smiling day;-- - It is not for such Peace that we would pray. - - We ask for Peace, O Lord! - Yet not to stand secure, - Girt round with iron Pride, - Contented to endure: - Crushing the gentle strings - That human hearts should know, - Untouched by others' joy - Or others' woe;-- - Thou, O dear Lord, wilt never teach us so. - - We ask Thy Peace, O Lord! - Through storm, and fear, and strife, - To light and guide us on, - Through a long, struggling life: - While no success or gain - Shall cheer the desperate fight, - Or nerve, what the world calls, - Our wasted might:-- - Yet pressing through the darkness to the light. - - It is Thine own, O Lord, - Who toil while others sleep, - Who sow with loving care - What other hands shall reap; - They lean on Thee entranced, - In calm and perfect rest: - Give us that Peace, O Lord, - Divine and blest, - Thou keepest for those hearts who love Thee best. - - --_Adelaide Procter._ - - -LISTENING IN DARKNESS--SPEAKING IN LIGHT. - - "What I tell you in darkness, that speak ye in light." - MATT. x. 27. - - He hath spoken in the darkness - In the silence of the night, - Spoken sweetly of the Father. - Words of life and love and light, - Floating through the sombre stillness - Came the loved and loving Voice, - Speaking peace and solemn gladness, - That His children might rejoice. - What He tells thee in the darkness-- - Songs He giveth in the night-- - Rise and speak it in the morning, - Rise and sing them in the light! - - He hath spoken in the darkness, - In the silence of thy grief, - Sympathy so deep and tender, - Mighty for thy heart-relief. - Speaking in thy night of sorrow - Words of comfort and of calm, - Gently on thy wounded spirit - Pouring true and healing balm. - What He tells thee in the darkness, - Weary watcher for the day, - Grateful lip and life should utter - When the shadows flee away. - - He is speaking in the darkness, - Though thou canst not see His face, - More than angels ever needed, - Mercy, pardon, love and grace. - Speaking of the many mansions, - Where, in safe and holy rest, - Thou shalt be with Him forever, - Perfectly and always blest. - What He tells thee in the darkness, - Whispers through Time's lonely night, - Thou shalt speak in glorious praises - In the everlasting light. - - --_Frances Ridley Havergal._ - - -THE MORNING STAR. - - There is a morning star, my soul, - There is a morning star; - 'Twill soon be near and bright, tho' now, - It seem so dim and far. - And when time's stars have come and gone, - And every mist of earth has flown, - That better star shall rise - On this world's clouded skies, - To shine forever! - - The night is well nigh spent, my soul, - The night is well nigh spent, - And soon above our heads shall shine - A glorious firmament; - A sky all glad, and pure, and bright, - The Lamb, once slain, its perfect light; - A star without a cloud, - Whose light no mists enshroud, - Descending never. - - --_Horatius Bonar._ - - - God of the world! Thy glories shine, - Through earth and heaven, with rays divine: - Thy smile gives beauty to the flower, - Thine anger to the tempest power. - - God of our lives! the throbbing heart - Doth at Thy beck its action start-- - Throbs on, obedient to Thy will, - Or ceases, at Thy fatal chill. - - God of eternal life! Thy love - Doth every stain of sin remove; - The cross, the cross--its hallowed light - Shall drive from earth her cheerless night. - - God of all goodness! to the skies - Our hearts in grateful anthems rise; - And to Thy service shall be given - The rest of life--the whole of heaven. - - --_S. S. Cutting._ - - - There is a God!--all nature speaks, - Through earth, and air, and seas, and skies; - See! from the clouds His glory breaks, - When the first beams of morning rise. - - The rising sun, serenely bright, - O'er the wide world's extended frame, - Inscribes, in characters of light, - His mighty Maker's glorious name. - - Ye curious minds, who roam abroad, - And trace creation's wonders o'er, - Confess the footsteps of your God, - And bow before Him, and adore. - - --_Steele._ - - - Lord, how mysterious are Thy ways! - How blind are we! how mean our praise! - Thy steps, can mortal eyes explore? - 'Tis ours to wonder and adore. - - Great God! I would not ask to see - What in my coming life shall be; - Enough for me if love divine, - At length through every cloud shall shine. - - Are darkness and distress my share? - Then let me trust Thy guardian care; - If light and bliss attend my days - Then let my future hours be praise. - - Yet this my soul desires to know, - Be this my only wish below, - That Christ be mine;--this great request - Grant, bounteous God, and I am blest! - - --_Steele._ - - -THE SHADOW OF THE ROCK. - - The Shadow of the Rock! - Stay, Pilgrim, stay! - Night treads upon the heels of day; - There is no other resting-place this way. - The Rock is near, - The well is clear-- - Rest in the Shadow of the Rock. - - The Shadow of the Rock! - The desert wide - Lies round thee like a trackless tide, - In waves of sand forlornly multiplied. - The sun is gone, - Thou art alone-- - Rest in the Shadow of the Rock! - - The Shadow of the Rock! - All come alone; - All, ever since the sun hath shone, - Who traveled by this road have come alone. - Be of good cheer-- - A home is here-- - Rest in the Shadow of the Rock? - - The Shadow of the Rock! - Night veils the land; - How the palms whisper as they stand! - How the well tinkles faintly through the sand! - Cool water take - Thy thirst to slake-- - Rest in the Shadow of the Rock! - - The Shadow of the Rock! - Abide! Abide! - This Rock moves ever at thy side, - Pausing to welcome thee at eventide. - Ages are laid - Beneath its shade-- - Rest in the Shadow of the Rock! - - The Shadow of the Rock! - Always at hand, - Unseen it cools the noon-tide land, - And quells the fire that flickers in the sand. - It comes in sight - Only at night-- - Rest in the Shadow of the Rock! - - The Shadow of the Rock! - 'Mid skies storm-riven - It gathers shadows out of heaven, - And holds them o'er us all night cool and even. - Through the charmed air - Dew falls not there-- - Rest in the Shadow of the Rock! - - The Shadow of the Rock! - To angels' eyes - This Rock its shadow multiplies, - And at this hour in countless places lies. - One Rock, one shade, - O'er thousands laid-- - Rest in the Shadow of the Rock! - - The Shadow of the Rock! - To weary feet, - That have been diligent and fleet, - The sleep is deeper and the shade more sweet. - O weary, rest! - Thou art sore pressed-- - Rest in the shadow of the Rock! - - The Shadow of the Rock! - Thy bed is made; - Crowds of tired souls like thine are laid - This night beneath the self-same placid shade. - They who rest here - Wake with Heaven near-- - Rest in the Shadow of the Rock! - - The Shadow of the Rock! - Pilgrim! sleep sound; - In night's swift hours with silent bound, - The Rock will put thee over leagues of ground, - Gaining more way - By night than day-- - Rest in the Shadow of the Rock! - - The Shadow of the Rock! - One day of pain, - Thou scarce wilt hope the Rock to gain, - Yet there wilt sleep thy last sleep on the plain; - And only wake - In Heaven's daybreak-- - Rest in the Shadow of the Rock. - - --_F. W. Faber._ - - -ELEGY. - - Sleep on my love, in thy cold bed, - Never to be disquieted! - My last good night! Thou wilt not wake - Till I thy fate shall overtake, - Till age, or grief, or sickness, must - Marry my body to that dust - It so much loves, and fill the room - My heart keeps empty in thy tomb. - Stay for me there; I will not fail - To meet thee in that narrow vale; - And think not much of my delay: - I am already on the way, - And follow thee with all the speed - Desire can make, or sorrows breed. - For hark! my heart, like a soft drum, - Beats my approach, tells thee I come; - And howe'er long my marches be, - I shall at last lie down by thee. - - * * * * * - - Each minute is a short degree, - And every hour a step toward thee; - At night when I betake to rest, - Next morn I rise nearer my west - Of life, almost by eight hours' sail, - Than when sleep breathed his drowsy gale. - The thought of this bids me go on, - And wait my dissolution - With hope and comfort. Dear, forgive - The crime: I am content to live - Divided, with but half a heart, - Till we shall meet and never part. - - --_Henry King._ - - -REST YONDER. - - This is not my place of resting - Mine's a city yet to come; - Onwards to it I am hasting-- - On to my eternal home. - - In it all is light and glory, - O'er it shines a nightless day; - Every trace of sin's sad story, - All the curse, has passed away. - - There the Lamb, our Shepherd, leads us, - By the streams of life along; - On the freshest pastures feeds us, - Turns our sighing into song. - - Soon we pass this desert dreary, - Soon we bid farewell to pain; - Never more be sad or weary, - Never, never sin again. - - --_Horatius Bonar._ - - - Soldiers of Christ, arise, - And gird your armor on, - Strong in the strength which God supplies, - Through His eternal Son: - - Strong in the Lord of hosts, - And in His mighty power, - Who in the strength of Jesus trusts, - Is more than conqueror. - - Leave no unguarded place, - No weakness of the soul; - Take every virtue, every grace, - And fortify the whole. - - Stand, then, in His great might, - With all His strength endued, - And take, to arm you for the fight, - The panoply of God: - - That, having all things done, - And all your conflicts past, - You may o'ercome thro' Christ alone, - And stand complete at last. - - From strength to strength go on; - Wrestle, and fight, and pray; - Tread all the powers of darkness down, - And win the well-fought day. - - --_C. Wesley._ - - - Thy will be done! I will not fear - The fate provided by Thy love; - Though clouds and darkness shroud me here, - I know that all is bright above. - - The stars of heaven are shining on, - Though these frail eyes are dimmed with tears; - The hopes of earth indeed are gone, - But are not ours the immortal years? - - Father! forgive the heart that clings, - Thus trembling, to the things of time; - And bid my soul, on angel wings, - Ascend into a purer clime. - - --_J. Roscoe._ - - - No, no, it is not dying - To go unto our God, - This gloomy earth forsaking, - Our journey homeward taking - Along the starry road. - - No, no, it is not dying - Heaven's citizen to be; - A crown immortal wearing, - And rest unbroken sharing, - From care and conflict free. - - No, no, it is not dying - To hear this gracious word, - "Receive a Father's blessing, - Forever more possessing - The favor of thy Lord." - - No, no, it is not dying - The Shepherd's voice to know; - His sheep he ever leadeth, - His peaceful flock he feedeth, - Where living pastures grow. - - No, no, it is not dying - To wear a lordly crown; - Among God's people dwelling, - The glorious triumph swelling - Of Him whose sway we own. - - Oh, no, this is not dying, - Thou Saviour of mankind! - There, streams of love are flowing, - No hindrance ever knowing; - Here drops alone we find. - - --_Malan._ - - - Watchman! tell us of the night, - What its signs of promise are.-- - Traveler! o'er yon mountain's height, - See that glory-beaming star!-- - Watchman! does its beauteous ray - Aught of hope or joy foretell? - Traveler! yes; it brings the day-- - Promised day of Israel. - - Watchman! tell us of the night, - Higher yet that stars ascends.-- - Traveler! blessedness and light, - Peace and truth its course portends! - Watchman! will its beams alone - Gild the spot that gave them birth?-- - Traveler! ages are its own, - See, it bursts o'er all the earth. - - Watchman! tell us of the night, - For the morning seems to dawn.-- - Traveler! darkness takes its flight, - Doubt and terror are withdrawn.-- - Watchman! let thy wanderings cease; - Hie thee to thy quiet home.-- - Traveler! lo! the Prince of Peace, - Lo! the son of God is come. - - --_Bowring._ - - -THE SPIRIT ACCOMPANYING THE WORD OF GOD. - - O spirit of the living God, - In all Thy plenitude of grace, - Where'er the foot of man hath trod, - Descend on our apostate race. - - Give tongues of fire, and hearts of love, - To preach the reconciling word; - Give power and unction from above, - Where'er the joyful sound is heard. - - Be darkness, at Thy coming, light; - Confusion--order, in Thy path; - Souls without strength inspire with might, - Bid mercy triumph over wrath. - - O, Spirit of the Lord! prepare - All the round earth her God to meet; - Breathe Thou abroad like morning air, - Till hearts of stone begin to beat. - - Baptize the nations; far and nigh, - The triumphs of the cross record; - The name of Jesus glorify, - Till every kindred call Him Lord. - - God from eternity hath willed, - All flesh shall His salvation see; - So be the Father's love fulfilled, - The Saviour's sufferings crowned through Thee. - - --_James Montgomery._ - -[Illustration: APPARITION TO THE SHEPHERDS.] - - -THE CLOUDLESS. - - No shadows yonder! - All light and song; - Each day I wonder, - And say, How long - Shall time me sunder - From that dear throng? - - No weeping yonder? - All fled away; - While here I wander - Each weary day, - And sigh as I ponder - My long, long stay. - - No partings yonder! - Time and space never - Again shall sunder; - Hearts cannot sever; - Dearer and fonder - Hands clasp for ever. - - None wanting yonder, - Bought by the Lamb! - All gathered under - The evergreen palm; - Loud as night's thunder - Ascends the glad psalm. - - _--Horatius Bonar._ - - -COMFORT. - - Hast thou o'er the clear heaven of thy soul - Seen tempests roll? - Hast thou watched all the hopes thou wouldst have won - Fade, one by one? - Wait till the clouds are past, then raise thine eyes - To bluer skies. - - Hast thou gone sadly through a dreary night, - And found no light, - No guide, no star, to cheer thee through the plain, - No friend, save pain? - Wait, and thy soul shall see, when most forlorn, - Rise a new morn. - - Hast thou beneath another's stern control - Bent thy sad soul, - And wasted sacred hopes and precious tears? - Yet calm thy fears, - For thou canst gain, even from the bitterest part, - A stronger heart. - - Has Fate o'erwhelmed thee with some sudden blow? - Let thy tears flow; - But know when storms are past, the heavens appear - More pure, more clear; - And hope, when farthest from their shining rays, - For brighter days. - - Hast thou found life a cheat, and worn in vain - Its iron chain? - Has thy soul bent beneath earth's heavy bond? - Look thou beyond; - If life is bitter--_there_ forever shine - Hopes more divine. - - Art thou alone, and does thy soul complain - It lives in vain? - Not vainly does he live who can endure. - O be thou sure, - That he who hopes and suffers here, can earn - A sure return. - - Hast thou found naught within thy troubled life - Save inward strife? - Hast thou found all she promised thee, Deceit, - And Hope a cheat? - Endure, and there shall dawn within thy breast - Eternal rest! - - _--Adelaide Procter._ - - -"MASTER, SAY ON!" - - Master, speak! Thy servant heareth, - Waiting for Thy gracious word, - Longing for Thy voice that cheereth; - Master! let it now be heard. - I am listening, Lord, for Thee; - What hast Thou to say to me? - - Often through my heart is pealing - Other voices, Lord, than Thine, - Many an unwilled echo stealing - From the walls of this Thy shrine: - Let Thy longed-for accents fall; - Master, speak! and silence all. - - Master, speak! I do not doubt Thee, - Though so tearfully I plead; - Saviour, Shepherd! Oh, without Thee - Life would be a blank indeed! - But I long for fuller light, - Deeper love, and clearer sight. - - Resting on the 'faithful saying,' - Trusting what Thy gospel saith, - On Thy written promise staying - All my hope in life and death, - Yet I long for something more - From Thy love's exhaustless store. - - Speak to me by name, O Master, - Let me _know_ it is to me; - Speak, that I may follow faster, - With a step more firm and free, - Where the Shepherd leads the flock, - In the shadow of the Rock. - - Master, speak! I kneel before Thee, - Listening, longing, waiting still; - Oh, how long shall I implore Thee - This petition to fulfil! - Hast Thou not one word for me? - Must my prayer unanswered be? - - Master, speak! Though least and lowest - Let me not unheard depart; - Master, speak! for oh! Thou knowest - All the yearning of my heart, - Knowest all its truest need; - Speak! and make me blest indeed. - - Master, speak! and make me ready, - When Thy voice is truly heard, - With obedience glad and steady - Still to follow every word. - I am listening, Lord, for Thee; - Master speak, oh, speak to me! - - _--Frances Ridley Havergal._ - - -THE LEPER. - - St. Luke. Chapter xvii. - - Room for the leper! "Room!" And, as he came, - The cry pass'd on--"Room for the leper! Room!" - Sunrise was slanting on the city gates - Rosy and beautiful, and from the hills - The early risen poor were coming in, - Duly and cheerfully to their toil, and up - Rose the sharp hammer's clink, and the far hum - Of moving wheels and multitudes astir, - And all that in a city murmur swells-- - Unheard but by the watcher's weary ear, - Aching with night's dull silence, or the sick - Hailing the welcome light and sounds that chase - The death-like images of the dark away. - "Room for the leper!" And aside they stood-- - Matron, and child, and pitiless manhood--all - Who met him on his way--and let him pass. - And onward through the open gate he came, - A leper with the ashes on his brow, - Sackcloth about his loins, and on his lip - A covering, stepping painfully and slow, - And with a difficult utterance, like one - Whose heart is like an iron nerve put down, - Crying, "Unclean! Unclean!" - - 'Twas now the first - Of the Judean autumn, and the leaves, - Whose shadows lay so still upon his path, - Had put their beauty forth beneath the eye - Of Judah's loftiest noble. He was young, - And eminently beautiful, and life - Mantled in eloquent fullness on his lip, - And sparkled in his glance; and in his mien - There was a gracious pride that every eye - Follow'd with benisons--and this was he! - With the soft airs of summer there had come - A torpor on his frame, which not the speed - Of his best barb, nor music, nor the blast - Of the bold huntsman's horn, nor aught that stirs - The spirit to its bent, might drive away. - The blood beat not as wont within his veins; - Dimness crept o'er his eye; a drowsy sloth - Fetter'd his limbs like palsy, and his mien, - With all its loftiness, seem'd struck with eld. - Even his voice was changed--a languid moan - Taking the place of the clear silver key; - And brain and sense grew faint, as if the light - And very air were steep'd in sluggishness. - He strove with it awhile, as manhood will, - Ever too proud for weakness, till the rein - Slacken'd within his grasp, and in its poise - The arrowy jereed like an aspen shook. - Day after day, he lay as if in sleep. - His skin grew dry and bloodless, and white scales, - Circled with livid purple, cover'd him. - And then his nails grew black, and fell away - From the dull flesh about them, and the hues - Deepen'd beneath the hard unmoisten'd scales, - And from their edges grew the rank white hair, - --And Helon was a leper! - - Day was breaking, - When at the altar of the temple stood - The holy priest of God. The incense lamp - Burn'd with a struggling light, and a low chant - Swell'd through the hollow arches of the roof - Like an articulate wail, and there, alone, - Wasted to ghastly thinness, Helon knelt. - The echoes of the melancholy strain - Died in the distant aisles, and he rose up, - Struggling with weakness, and bow'd down his head - Unto the sprinkled ashes, and put off - His costly raiment for the leper's garb; - And with the sackcloth round him, and his lip - Hid in a loathsome covering, stood still, - Waiting to hear his doom:-- - - Depart! depart, O child - Of Israel, from the temple of thy God! - For He has smote thee with His chastening rod; - And to the desert-wild, - From all thou lov'st, away thy feet must flee, - That from thy plague His people may be free. - - Depart! and come not near - The busy mart, the crowded city, more; - Nor set thy foot a human threshold o'er; - And stay thou not to hear - Voices that call thee in the way: and fly - From all who in the wilderness pass by. - - Wet not thy burning lip - In streams that to a human dwelling glide; - Nor rest thee where the covert fountains hide; - Nor kneel thee down to dip - The water where the pilgrim bends to drink, - By desert well or river's grassy brink; - - And pass thou not between - The weary traveler and the cooling breeze; - And lie not down to sleep beneath the trees - Where human tracks are seen; - Nor milk the goat that browseth on the plain - Nor pluck the standing corn, or yellow grain. - - And now depart! and when - Thy heart is heavy, and thine eyes are dim, - Lift up thy prayer beseechingly to Him - Who, from the tribes of men, - Selected thee to feel His chastening rod. - Depart! O leper! and forget not God! - - And he went forth--alone! not one of all - The many whom he loved, nor she whose name - Was woven in the fibres of the heart - Breaking within him now, to come and speak - Comfort unto him. Yea--he went his way, - Sick, and heart-broken, and alone--to die! - For God had cursed the leper! - - It was noon, - And Helon knelt beside a stagnant pool - In the lone wilderness, and bathed his brow, - Hot with the burning leprosy, and touch'd - The loathsome water to his fever'd lips, - Praying that he might be so blest--to die! - Footsteps approach'd, and, with no strength to flee, - He drew the covering closer on his lip, - Crying, "Unclean! unclean!" and in the folds - Of the coarse sackcloth shrouding up his face, - He fell upon the earth till they should pass. - Nearer the stranger came, and bending o'er - The leper prostrate form, pronounced his name-- - "Helon!" The voice was like the master-tone - Of a rich instrument--most strangely sweet; - And the dull pulses of disease awoke, - And for a moment beat beneath the hot - And leprous scales with a restoring thrill. - "Helon! arise!" and he forgot his curse, - And rose and stood before Him. - - Love and awe - Mingled in the regard of Helon's eye - As he beheld the stranger. He was not - In costly raiment clad, nor on his brow - The symbol of a princely lineage wore; - No followers at His back, nor in His hand - Buckler, or sword, or spear,--yet in His mien - Command sat throned serene, and if He smiled, - A kingly condescension graced His lips, - The lion would have crouch'd to in his lair. - His garb was simple, and His sandals worn; - His stature modell'd with a perfect grace; - His countenance the impress of a God, - Touch'd with the opening innocence of a child; - His eye was blue and calm, as is the sky - In the serenest noon; His hair unshorn - Fell to His shoulders; and His curling beard - The fulness of perfected manhood bore. - He look'd on Helon earnestly awhile, - As if His heart were moved, and stooping down - He took a little water in His hand - And laid it on his brow, and said, "Be clean!" - And lo! the scales fell from him, and his blood - Coursed with delicious coolness through his veins - And his dry palms grew moist, and on his brow - The dewy softness of an infant's stole. - His leprosy was cleansed, and he fell down - Prostrate at Jesus' feet and worship'd Him. - - --_N. P. Willis._ - - -THINGS HOPED FOR. - - These are the crowns that we shall wear, - When all thy saints are crowned; - These are the palms that we shall bear - On yonder holy ground. - - Far off as yet, reserved in heaven, - Above that veiling sky, - They sparkle, like the stars of even, - To hope's far-piercing eye. - - These are the robes, unsoiled and white, - Which then we shall put on, - When, foremost 'mong the sons of light, - We sit on yonder throne. - - That city with the jeweled crest, - Like some new-lighted sun; - A blaze of burning amethyst-- - Ten thousand orbs in one; - - That is the city of the saints, - Where we so soon shall stand, - When we shall strike these desert-tents, - And quit this desert-sand. - - These are the everlasting hills, - With summits bathed in day: - The slopes down which the living rills, - Soft-lapsing, take their way. - - Fair vision! how thy distant gleam - Brightens time's saddest hue; - Far fairer than the fairest dream, - And yet so strangely true! - - Fair vision! how thou liftest up - The drooping brow and eye; - With the calm joy of thy sure hope - Fixing our souls on high. - - Thy light makes even the darkest page - In memory's scroll grow fair; - Blanching the lines which tears and age - Had only deepened there. - - With thee in view, the rugged slope - Becomes a level way, - Smoothed by the magic of thy hope, - And gladdened by thy ray. - - With thee in view, how poor appear - The world's most winning smiles; - Vain is the tempter's subtlest snare, - And vain hell's varied wiles. - - Time's glory fades; its beauty now - Has ceased to lure or blind; - Each gay enchantment here below - Has lost its power to bind. - - Then welcome toil, and care, and pain! - And welcome sorrow too! - All toil is rest, all grief is gain, - With such a prize in view. - - Come crown and throne, come robe and palm! - Burst forth glad stream of peace! - Come, holy city of the Lamb! - Rise, Sun of Righteousness! - - When shall the clouds that veil thy rays - For ever be withdrawn? - Why dost thou tarry, day of days? - When shall thy gladness dawn? - - --_Horatius Bonar._ - - -THE SURE REFUGE. - - Jesus, my Saviour, look on me! - For I am weary and oppressed; - I come to cast myself on Thee; - Thou art my Rest. - - Look down on me, for I am weak; - I feel the toilsome journey's length; - Thine aid omnipotent I seek; - Thou art my Strength. - - I am bewildered on my way; - Dark and tempestuous is the night; - Oh! shed thou forth some cheering ray; - Thou art my Light. - - I hear the storms around me rise, - But when I dread the impending shock, - My spirit to her refuge flies; - Thou art my Rock. - - When the accuser flings his darts, - I look to Thee--my terrors cease,-- - Thy cross a hiding-place imparts; - Thou art my Peace. - - Standing alone on Jordan's brink, - In that tremendous, latest strife, - Thou wilt not suffer me to sink; - Thou art my Life. - - Thou wilt my every want supply, - Even to the end, whate'er befall - Through life in death eternally; - Thou art my All. - - --_Unidentified._ - - -UNFRUITFULNESS. - - My soul! what hast thou done for God? - Look o'er thy misspent years and see; - Sum up what thou hast done for God, - And then what God has done for thee. - - He made thee, when He might have made - A soul that would have loved Him more; - He rescued thee from nothingness, - And set thee on life's happy shore. - - He placed an angel at thy side, - And strewed joys round thee on thy way; - He gave thee rights thou couldst not claim, - And life, free life, before thee lay. - - Had God in heaven no work to do, - But miracles of love for thee? - No world to rule, no joy in self, - And in his own infinity? - - So must it seem to our blind eyes; - He gave His love no Sabbath rest, - Still plotting happiness for men, - And now designs to make them blest. - - From out His glorious bosom came - His only, His eternal Son; - He freed the race of Satan's slaves, - And with His blood sin's captives won. - - The world rose up against his love: - New love the vile rebellion met, - As though God only looked at sin, - Its guilt to pardon and forget. - - For His Eternal Spirit came, - To raise the thankless slaves to sons, - And with the sevenfold gifts of love - To crown His own elected ones. - - Men spurned His grace, their lips blasphemed - The Love who made Himself their slave; - They grieved that blessed Comforter, - And turned against Him what He gave. - - Yet still the sun is fair by day, - The moon still beautiful by night; - The world goes round, and joy with it, - And life, free life, is men's delight. - - No voice God's wondrous silence breaks; - No hand put forth, His anger tells; - And He, the Omnipotent and Dread, - On high in humblest patience dwells. - - The Son hath come; and maddened sin - The world's Creator crucified; - The Spirit comes, and stays, while men, - His presence doubt, His gifts deride. - - And now the Father keeps Himself, - In patient and forbearing love, - To be His creature's heritage, - In that undying life above. - - O wonderful, O passing thought! - The love that God hath had for thee, - Spending on thee no less a sum - Than the undivided Trinity. - - Father and Son, and Holy Ghost, - Exhausted for a thing like this,-- - The world's whole government disposed - For one ungrateful creature's bliss. - - What hast thou done for God, my soul? - Look o'er thy misspent years and see; - Cry for thy worse than nothingness; - Cry for His mercy upon thee. - - --_F. W. Faber._ - - - Some murmur when their sky is clear, - And wholly bright to view, - If one small speck of dark appear - In their great heaven of blue. - And some with thankful love are filled, - If but one streak of light, - One ray of God's good mercy, gild - The darkness of their night. - - In palaces are hearts that ask, - In discontent and pride, - Why life is such a dreary task, - And all good things denied: - And hearts in poorest huts admire - How love has in their aid - (Love that not ever seems to tire) - Such rich provision made. - - --_Richard Chenevix Trench._ - - -IF THOU COULDST KNOW. - - I think if thou couldst know, - O soul that will complain, - What lies concealed below - Our burden and our pain; - How just our anguish brings - Nearer those longed-for things - We seek for now in vain,-- - I think thou wouldst rejoice, and not complain. - - I think if thou couldst see, - With thy dim mortal sight, - How meanings, dark to thee, - Are shadows hiding light; - Truth's efforts crossed and vexed, - Life's purpose all perplexed,-- - If thou couldst see them right, - I think that they would seem all clear, and wise, and bright. - - And yet thou canst not know, - And yet thou canst not see; - Wisdom and sight are slow - In poor humanity. - If thou couldst _trust_, poor soul, - In Him who rules the whole, - Thou wouldst find peace and rest: - Wisdom and sight are well, but Trust is best. - - --_Adelaide Procter._ - - -COMPENSATION. - - O the compensating springs! O the balance-wheels of life, - Hidden away in the workings under the seeming strife! - Slowing the fret and the friction, weighting the whirl and the force, - Evolving the truest power from each unconscious source. - - How shall we gauge the whole, who can only guess a part? - How can we read the life, when we cannot spell the heart? - How shall we measure another, we who can never know - From the juttings above the surface the depth of the vein below? - - Even our present way is known to ourselves alone, - Height and abyss and torrent, flower and thorn and stone; - But we gaze on another's path as a far-off mountain scene, - Scanning the outlined hills, but never the vales between. - - How shall we judge their present, we who have never seen - That which is past forever, and that which might have been? - Measuring by ourselves, unwise indeed are we, - Measuring what we _know_ by what we can hardly _see_. - - Ah! if we knew it all, we should surely understand - That the balance of sorrow and joy is held with an even hand, - That the scale of success or loss shall never overflow, - And that compensation is twined with the lot of high and low. - - The easy path in the lowland hath little of grand or new, - But a toilsome ascent leads on to a wide and glorious view; - Peopled and warm is the valley, lonely and chill the height, - But the peak that is nearer the storm-cloud is nearer the stars of light. - - Launch on the foaming stream that bears you along like a dart,-- - There is danger of rapid and rock, there is tension of muscle and heart; - Glide on the easy current, monotonous, calm, and slow, - You are spared the quiver and strain in the safe and quiet flow. - - O the sweetness that dwells in a harp of many strings, - While each, all vocal with love, in tuneful harmony rings! - But O, the wail and the discord, when one and another is rent, - Tensionless, broken or lost, from the cherished instrument. - - For rapture of love is linked with the pain or fear of loss, - And the hand that takes the crown must ache with many a cross; - Yet he who hath never a conflict hath never a victor's palm, - And only the toilers know the sweetness of rest and calm. - - Only between the storms can the Alpine traveler know - Transcendent glory of clearness, marvels of gleam and glow; - Had he the brightness unbroken of cloudless summer days, - This had been dimmed by the dust and veil of a brooding haze. - - Who would dare the choice, _neither_ or _both_ to know, - The finest quiver of joy or the agony-thrill of woe? - Never the exquisite pain, then never the exquisite bliss, - For the heart that is dull to that can never be strung to this. - - Great is the peril or toil if the glory or gain be great; - Never an earthly gift without responsible weight; - Never a treasure without a following shade of care; - Never a power without the lurk of a subtle snare. - - For the swift is not the safe, and the sweet is not the strong; - The smooth is not the short, and the keen is not the long; - The much is not the most, and the wide is not the deep, - And the flow is never a spring, when the ebb is only neap. - - Then, hush! oh, hush! for the Father knows what thou knowest not, - The weed and the thorn and the shadow lurked with the fairest lot; - Knows the wisest exemption from many an unseen snare, - Knows what will keep thee nearest, knows what thou couldst not bear. - - Hush! oh, hush! for the Father portioneth as He will, - To all His beloved children, and shall they not be still? - Is not His will the wisest, is not His choice the best? - And in perfect acquiescence is there not perfect rest? - - Hush! oh, hush! for the Father, whose ways are true and just, - Knoweth and careth and loveth, and waits for thy perfect trust; - The cup He is slowly filling shall soon be full to the brim, - And infinite compensations forever be found in Him. - - Hush! oh, hush! for the Father hath fullness of joy in store, - Treasures of power and wisdom, and pleasures for evermore; - Blessing and honor and glory, endless, infinite bliss;-- - Child of His love and His choice, oh, canst thou not wait for this? - - --_Francis Ridley Havergal._ - - -VALIANT FOR THE TRUTH. - - Fight the good fight; lay hold - Upon eternal life; - Keep but thy shield, be bold, - Stand through the hottest strife; - Invincible while in the field, - Thou canst not fail, unless thou yield. - - No force of earth or hell, - Though fiends with men unite, - Truth's champion can compel, - However pressed, to flight; - Invincible upon the field, - He cannot fall, unless he yield. - - Apollyon's arm may shower - Darts thick as hail, and hide - Heaven's face, as in the hour, - When Christ on Calvary died; - No power of darkness in the field - Can tread thee down, unless thou yield. - - Trust in thy Saviour's might; - Yea, till thy latest breath, - Fight, and like Him in fight, - By dying conquer death; - And all-victorious in the field, - Then with thy sword, thy spirit yield. - - Great words are these, and strong; - Yet Lord, I look to thee, - To whom alone belong - Valor and victory. - With thee, my Captain in the field, - I must prevail, I cannot yield. - - --_James Montgomery._ - - -ADVENT. - - The Church has waited long - Her absent Lord to see; - And still in loneliness she waits, - A friendless stranger she. - Age after age has gone, - Sun after sun has set, - And still in weeds of widowhood - She weeps a mourner yet. - Come, then, Lord Jesus, come! - - Saint after saint on earth - Has lived, and loved, and died; - And as they left us one by one, - We laid them side by side; - We laid them down to sleep, - But not in hope forlorn; - We laid them but to ripen there, - Till the last glorious morn. - Come, then, Lord Jesus, come! - - The serpent's brood increase, - The powers of hell grow bold, - The conflict thickens, faith is low, - And love is waxing cold. - How long, O Lord our God, - Holy and true, and good, - Wilt Thou not judge Thy suffering Church, - Her sighs and tears and blood? - Come, then, Lord Jesus, come! - - We long to hear Thy voice, - To see Thee face to face, - To share Thy crown and glory then, - As now we share Thy grace. - Should not the loving bride - The absent bridegroom mourn? - Should she not wear the weeds of grief - Until her Lord return? - Come, then, Lord Jesus, come! - - The whole creation groans, - And waits to hear that voice, - That shall restore her comeliness, - And make her wastes rejoice. - Come Lord and wipe away - The curse, the sin, the stain, - And make this blighted world of ours - Thine own fair world again. - Come, then, Lord Jesus, come! - - --_Horatius Bonar._ - - -A BETHLEHEM HYMN. - - "Mundum implens, in præsepio jacens."--AUGUSTINE. - - He has come! the Christ of God;-- - Left for us his glad abode - Stooping from his throne of bliss, - To this darksome wilderness. - - He has come! the Prince of Peace;-- - Come to bid our sorrows cease; - Come to scatter, with his light, - All the shadows of our night. - - He the mighty King has come! - Making this poor earth his home; - Come to bear sin's sad load;-- - Son of David, Son of God! - - He has come, whose name of grace - Speaks deliverance to our race; - Left for us his glad abode; - Son of Mary, Son of God! - - Unto us a child is born! - Ne'er has earth beheld a morn - Among all the morns of time, - Half so glorious in its prime. - - Unto us a Son is given! - He has come from God's own heaven; - Bringing with Him from above, - Holy peace and holy love. - - --_Horatius Bonar._ - -[Illustration: CHRISTMAS CHIMES.] - - -A DESIRE. - - O, to have dwelt in Bethlehem - When the star of the Lord shone bright! - To have sheltered the holy wanderers - On that blessèd Christmas night; - To have kissed the tender wayworn feet - Of the mother undefiled, - And, with reverent wonder and deep delight, - To have tended the Holy Child! - - Hush! such a glory was not for thee; - But that care may still be thine; - For are there not little ones still to aid - For the sake of the Child divine? - Are there no wandering Pilgrims now, - To thy heart and thy home to take? - And are there no mothers whose weary hearts - You can comfort for Mary's sake? - - O to have knelt at Jesus' feet, - And to have learned his heavenly lore! - To have listened the gentle lessons He taught - On mountain, and sea, and shore! - While the rich and the mighty knew Him not - To have meekly done His will:-- - Hush! for the worldly reject Him yet, - You can serve and love Him still. - Time cannot silence His mighty words, - And though ages have fled away, - His gentle accents of love divine - Speak to your soul to-day. - - O to have solaced that weeping one - Whom the righteous dare despise! - To have tenderly bound up her scattered hair, - And have dried her tearful eyes! - Hush! there are broken hearts to soothe, - And penitent tears to dry, - While Magdalen prays for you and them, - From her home in the starry sky. - - O to have followed the mournful way - Of those faithful few forlorn! - And grace, beyond even an angel's hope, - The Cross for our Lord have borne! - To have shared in his tender mother's grief, - To have wept at Mary's side, - To have lived as a child in her home, and then - In her loving care have died! - - Hush! and with reverent sorrow still, - Mary's great anguish share; - And learn, for the sake of her son divine, - Thy cross, like His, to bear. - The sorrows that weigh on thy soul unite - With those which thy Lord has borne, - And Mary will comfort thy dying hour, - Nor leave thy soul forlorn. - - O to have seen what we now adore, - And, though veiled to faithless sight, - To have known, in the form that Jesus wore, - The Lord of Life and Light! - Hush! for He dwells among us still, - And a grace can yet be thine, - Which the scoffer and doubter can never know,-- - The Presence of the Divine. - Jesus is with his children yet, - For His word can never deceive; - Go where His lowly Altars rise - And worship and believe. - - --_Adelaide Procter._ - - - It came upon the midnight clear, - That glorious song of old, - From angels bending near the earth - To touch their harps of gold: - "Peace to the earth, good-will to man, - From heaven's all-gracious King:" - The earth in solemn stillness lay, - To hear the angels sing. - - Still through the cloven skies they come, - With peaceful wings unfurled; - And still celestial music floats - O'er all the weary world; - Above its sad and lowly plains - They bend on heavenly wing, - And ever o'er its Babel sounds, - The blessed angels sing. - - Oh ye, beneath life's crushing load, - Whose forms are bending low, - Who toil along the climbing way, - With painful steps and slow, - Look up! for glad and golden hours - Come swiftly on the wing: - Oh rest beside the weary road, - And hear the angels sing! - - For lo, the days are hastening on, - By prophet-bards foretold, - When with the ever-circling years - Comes round the age of gold! - When peace shall over all the earth - Its final splendors fling, - And the whole world send back the song - Which now the angels sing! - - --_Sears._ - - - Hail to the Lord's Anointed, - Great David's greater Son; - Hail, in the time appointed, - His reign on earth begun! - He comes to break oppression, - To set the captive free, - To take away transgression, - And rule in equity. - - He comes with succor speedy, - To those who suffer wrong; - To help the poor and needy, - And bid the weak be strong; - To give them songs for sighing, - Their darkness turn to light, - Whose souls, condemned and dying, - Were precious in His sight. - - He shall descend like showers - Upon the fruitful earth; - And love and joy, like flowers, - Spring in His path to birth; - Before Him, on the mountains, - Shall peace, the herald, go; - And righteousness, in fountains, - From hill to valley flow. - - Arabia's desert-ranger - To Him shall bow the knee, - The Ethiopian stranger - His glory come to see; - With offerings of devotion, - Ships from the Isles shall meet, - To pour the wealth of ocean - In tribute at His feet. - - Kings shall fall down before Him, - And gold and incense bring, - All nations shall adore Him, - His praise all people sing: - For He shall have dominion - O'er river, sea, and shore, - Far as the eagle's pinion - Or dove's light wing can soar. - - To Him shall prayer unceasing, - And daily vows ascend; - His kingdom, still increasing, - A kingdom without end: - The tide of time shall never - His covenant remove; - His name shall stand forever; - That name to us is Love. - - --_Montgomery._ - - - I think, when I read that sweet story of old, - When Jesus was here among men, - How He called little children as lambs to his fold, - I should like to have been with them then. - - I wish that his hands had been placed on my head, - That his arms had been thrown around me, - And that I might have seen his kind look, when He said, - "Let the little ones come unto me." - - Yet still to his footstool in prayer I may go, - And ask for a share in his love; - And if I thus earnestly seek him below, - I shall see Him and hear Him above-- - - In that beautiful place He has gone to prepare, - For all who are washed and forgiv'n; - And many dear children are gathering there, - "For of such is the kingdom of heav'n." - - I long for the joys of that glorious time, - The sweetest, and brightest, and best, - When the dear little children of every clime, - Shall crowd to his arms and be blest. - - --_Jemima Luke._ - - - My Jesus, as Thou wilt; - Oh, may Thy will be mine; - Into Thy hand of love - I would my all resign: - Thro' sorrow or thro' joy, - Conduct me as Thine own, - And help me still to say, - My Lord, Thy will be done. - - My Jesus, as Thou wilt; - Tho' seen thro' many a tear, - Let not my star of hope - Grow dim or disappear: - Since Thou on earth hast wept, - And sorrowed oft alone, - If I must weep with Thee, - My Lord, Thy will be done. - - My Jesus as Thou wilt; - All shall be well for me; - Each changing future scene - I gladly trust with Thee: - Straight to my home above - I travel calmly on, - And sing in life or death,-- - My Lord, Thy will be done. - - --_Unidentified._ - - - How beauteous were the marks divine, - That in Thy meekness used to shine, - That lit Thy lonely pathway trod - In wondrous love, O Son of God! - - Oh, who like Thee, so calm, so bright, - So pure, so made to live in light? - Oh, who like Thee did ever go - So patient through a world of woe? - - Oh, who like Thee, so humbly bore - The scorn, the scoffs of men, before? - So meek, forgiving, god-like, high, - So glorious in humility? - - The bending angels stooped to see - The lisping infant clasp Thy knee, - And smile as in a father's eye, - Upon Thy mild divinity. - - And death, which sets the prisoner free, - Was pang and scoff, and scorn to thee; - Yet love through all Thy torture glowed, - And mercy with Thy life-blood flowed. - - Oh, in Thy light be mine to go, - Illuming all my way of woe; - And give me ever on the road - To trace Thy footsteps, Son of God! - - --_A. C. Coxe._ - - - O sacred Head, now wounded - With grief and shame weigh'd down, - Now scornfully surrounded - With thorns, thine only crown; - O sacred Head, what glory, - What bliss, till now, was thine! - Yet, though despis'd and gory, - I joy to call thee mine. - - What Thou, my Lord, hast suffered - Was all for sinners' gain; - Mine, mine was the transgression, - But thine the deadly pain: - Lo, here I fall, my Saviour! - 'Tis I deserve Thy place; - Look on me with Thy favor, - Vouchsafe to me Thy grace. - - What language shall I borrow - To thank Thee, dearest Friend; - For this Thy dying sorrow, - Thy pity without end? - O make me thine forever; - And should I fainting be, - Lord, let me never, never, - Outlive my love to Thee! - - Be near me when I'm dying, - Oh show Thy cross to me! - And for my succor flying, - Come, Lord, and set me free! - These eyes, new faith receiving, - From Jesus shall not move; - For he who dies believing, - Dies safely, through Thy love. - - --_Bernard._ - - - Heart of stone, relent, relent! - Break, by Jesus' cross subdued! - See His body mangled, rent, - Covered with a gore of blood; - Sinful soul, what hast thou done? - Crucified the Incarnate Son! - - Yes, thy sins have done the deed, - Driven the nails that fixed Him there, - Crowned with thorns His sacred head, - Pierced Him with the cruel spear, - Made his soul a sacrifice, - While for sinful man He dies! - - Wilt thou let Him bleed in vain? - Still to death thy Lord pursue? - Open all his wounds again, - And the shameful cross renew? - No; with all my sins I'll part; - Break, oh break, my bleeding heart! - - --_C. Wesley._ - - -"BY THY CROSS AND PASSION." - - "He hath given us rest by His sorrow, and life by His - death."--JOHN BUNYAN. - - What hast Thou done for me, O mighty Friend, - Who lovest to the end! - Reveal Thyself, that I may now behold - Thy love unknown, untold, - Bearing the curse, and made a curse for me, - That blessed and made a blessing I might be. - - Oh, Thou wast crowned with thorns, that I might wear - A crown of glory fair; - "Exceeding sorrowful," that I might be - Exceeding glad in Thee; - "Rejected and despised," that I might stand - Accepted and complete on Thy right hand. - - Wounded for my transgressions, stricken sore, - That I might "sin no more:" - Weak, that I might be always strong in Thee; - Bound, that I might be free; - Acquaint with grief, that I might only know - Fulness of joy in everlasting flow. - - Thine was the chastisement, with no release, - That mine might be the peace; - The bruising and the cruel stripes were thine, - That healing might be mine; - Thine was the sentence and the condemnation, - Mine the acquittal and the full salvation. - - For Thee revilings, and a mocking throng, - For me the angel-song; - For Thee the frown, the hiding of God's face, - For me His smile of grace; - Sorrows of hell and bitterest death for Thee, - And heaven and everlasting life for me. - - Thy cross and passion, and Thy precious death, - While I have mortal breath, - Shall be my spring of love and work and praise, - The life of all my days; - Till all this mystery of love supreme - Be solved in glory--glory's endless theme! - - --_Frances Ridley Havergal._ - - -ABIDE IN HIM. - - "Tecum volo vulnerari - Te libenter amplexari - In cruce desidero." OLD HYMN. - - Cling to the Crucified! - His death is life to thee,-- - Life for eternity. - His pains thy pardon seal; - His stripes thy bruises heal; - His cross proclaims thy peace, - Bids every sorrow cease. - His blood is all to thee, - It purges thee from sin; - It sets thy spirit free, - It keeps thy conscience clean. - Cling to the Crucified! - - Cling to the Crucified! - His is a heart of love, - Full as the hearts above; - Its depths of sympathy - Are all awake for thee: - His countenance is light, - Even to the darkest night. - That love shall never change-- - That light shall ne'er grow dim; - Charge thou thy faithless heart - To find its all in him. - Cling to the Crucified! - - --_Horatius Bonar._ - -[Illustration: THE MAGI ON THE WAY TO BETHLEHEM.] - - - Rejoice, all ye believers, - And let your lights appear; - The evening is advancing, - And darker night is near; - The Bridegroom is arising, - And soon He draweth nigh: - Up! pray, and watch, and wrestle! - At midnight comes the cry. - - The watchers on the mountain - Proclaim the Bridegroom near; - Go meet Him as He cometh, - With hallelujahs clear: - The marriage feast is waiting, - The gates wide-open stand; - Up, up, ye heirs of glory! - The Bridegroom is at hand. - - Our hope and expectation, - O Jesus, now appear; - Arise, thou Sun so longed for - O'er this benighted sphere! - With heart and hands uplifted, - We plead, O Lord, to see - The day of earth's redemption, - That brings us unto Thee. - - --_Laurenti._ - - -JOINED TO CHRIST. - - Joined to Christ in mystic union, - We Thy members, Thou our Head, - Sealed by deep and true communion, - Risen with Thee, who once were dead-- - Saviour, we would humbly claim - All the power of this Thy name. - - Instant sympathy to brighten - All their weakness and their woe, - Guiding grace their way to lighten, - Shall Thy loving members know; - All their sorrows Thou dost bear, - All Thy gladness they shall share. - - Make Thy members every hour - For Thy blessed service meet; - Earnest tongues, and arms of power, - Skilful hands, and hastening feet, - Ever ready to fulfil - All Thy word and all Thy will. - - Everlasting life Thou givest - Everlasting love to see; - They shall live because Thou livest, - And their life is hid with Thee. - Safe Thy members shall be found, - When their glorious Head is crowned! - - --_Frances Ridley Havergal._ - - - "_Till He come!_"--Oh, let the words - Linger on the trembling chords, - Let the "little while" between - In their golden light be seen: - Let us think how heaven and home - Lie beyond that, "_Till He come!_" - - When the weary ones we love - Enter on that rest above, - When their words of love and cheer - Fall no longer on our ear, - Hush! be ev'ry murmur dumb, - It is only "_Till He come!_" - - Clouds and darkness round us press; - Would we have one sorrow less? - All the sharpness of the cross, - All that tells the world is loss, - Death, and darkness, and the tomb, - Pain us only "_Till He come!_" - - See, the feast of love is spread, - Drink the wine and eat the bread; - Sweet memorials, till the Lord - Call us round His heavenly board, - Some from earth, from glory some, - Severed only "_Till He come!_" - - --_E. W. Bickersteth._ - - - "Forever with the Lord!" - So, Jesus, let it be; - Life from the dead is in that word; - 'Tis immortality. - - Here, in the body pent, - Absent from thee I roam: - Yet nightly pitch my moving tent - A day's march nearer home. - - My father's house on high, - Home of my soul! how near, - At times, to faith's aspiring eye, - Thy golden gates appear! - - "Forever with the Lord!" - Father, if 'tis thy will, - The promise of thy gracious word - Ev'n here to me fulfill. - - --_James Montgomery._ - - -THE MEETING-PLACE. - - Where the faded flower shall freshen,-- - Freshen never more to fade; - Where the shaded sky shall brighten,-- - Brighten never more to shade: - Where the sun-blaze never scorches; - Where the star-beams cease to chill; - Where no tempest stirs the echoes - Of the wood, or wave, or hill: - Where the morn shall wake in gladness, - And the moon the joy prolong, - Where the daylight dies in fragrance, - 'Mid the burst of holy song: - Brother, we shall meet and rest - 'Mid the holy and the blest! - - Where no shadow shall bewilder, - Where life's vain parade is o'er, - Where the sleep of sin is broken - And the dreamer dreams no more: - Where the bond is never severed;-- - Partings, claspings, sob and moan, - Midnight waking, twilight weeping, - Heavy noontide,--all are done: - Where the child has found its mother, - Where the mother finds the child, - Where dear families are gathered, - That were scattered on the wild; - Brother, we shall meet and rest - 'Mid the holy and the blest! - - Where the hidden wound is healed, - Where the blighted light re-blooms, - Where the smitten heart the freshness - Of its buoyant youth resumes: - Where the love that here we lavish - On the withering leaves of time, - Shall have fadeless flowers to fix on - In an ever spring-bright clime: - Where we find the joy of loving, - As we never loved before,-- - Loving on, unchilled, unhindered, - Loving once and evermore: - Brother, we shall meet and rest, - 'Mid the holy and the blest! - - Where a blasted world shall brighten - Underneath a bluer sphere, - And a softer, gentler sunshine - Sheds its healing splendor here: - Where earth's barren vales shall blossom, - Putting on their robe of green, - And a purer, fairer Eden - Be where only wastes have been: - Where a King in kingly glory, - Such as earth has never known, - Shall assume the righteous sceptre, - Claim and wear the holy crown: - Brother, we shall meet and rest, - 'Mid the holy and the blest. - - --_Horatius Bonar._ - - -A LITTLE WHILE. - - Beyond the smiling and the weeping - I shall be soon; - Beyond the waking and the sleeping, - Beyond the sowing and the reaping, - I shall be soon. - Love, rest and home! - Sweet hope! - Lord, tarry not, but come. - - Beyond the blooming and the fading, - I shall be soon; - Beyond the shining and the shading, - Beyond the hoping and the dreading, - I shall be soon. - Love, rest, and home! - Sweet hope! - Lord, tarry not, but come. - - Beyond the rising and the setting - I shall be soon; - Beyond the calming and the fretting, - Beyond remembering and forgetting, - I shall be soon. - Love, rest, and home! - Sweet hope! - Lord, tarry not, but come. - - Beyond the gathering and the strowing - I shall be soon; - Beyond the ebbing and the flowing, - Beyond the coming and the going, - I shall be soon. - Love, rest, and home! - Sweet hope! - Lord, tarry not, but come. - - Beyond the parting and the meeting - I shall be soon. - Beyond the farewell and the greeting, - Beyond this pulse's fever beating, - I shall be soon. - Love, rest, and home! - Sweet hope! - Lord, tarry not, but come. - - Beyond the frost-chain and the fever - I shall be soon; - Beyond the rock-waste and the river, - Beyond the ever and the never, - I shall be soon. - Love, rest, and home! - Sweet hope! - Lord, tarry not, but come. - - --_Horatius Bonar._ - - -ASCENSION DAY. - - Soft cloud, that while the breeze of May - Chants her glad matins in the leafy arch, - Draw'st thy bright veil across the heavenly way, - Meet pavement for an angel's glorious march. - - My soul is envious of mine eye, - That it should soar and glide with thee so fast - The while my groveling thoughts half buried lie, - Or lawless roam around this earthly waste. - - Chains of my heart, avaunt I say-- - I will arise, and in the strength of love - Pursue the bright track ere it fade away, - My Savior's pathway to His home above. - - Sure, when I reach the point where earth - Melts into nothing from the uncumber'd sight, - Heaven will o'ercome th' attraction of my birth, - And I shall sink in yonder sea of light: - - Till resting by th' incarnate Lord - Once bleeding, now triumphant for my sake, - I mark Him, how by seraph hosts ador'd, - He to earth's lowest cares is still awake. - - The sun and every vassal star, - All space beyond the soar of angel wings, - Wait on His word: and yet He stays His car - For every sigh a contrite suppliant brings. - - He listens to the silent tear - For all the anthems of the boundless sky-- - And shall our dreams of music bar our ear - To His soul-piercing voice forever nigh? - - Nay, gracious Saviour--but as now - Our thoughts have trac'd Thee to Thy glory-throne, - To help us evermore with Thee to bow - Where human sorrow breathes her lowly moan. - - We must not stand to gaze too long, - Though on unfolding Heaven our gaze we bend, - Where lost behind the bright angelic throng - We see Christ's entering triumph slow ascend. - - No fear but we shall soon behold, - Faster than now it fades, that gleam revive, - When issuing from His cloud of fiery gold - Our wasted frames feel the true sun, and live. - - Then shall we see Thee as Thou art, - Forever fix'd in no unfruitful gaze, - But such as lifts the new-created heart, - Age after age, in worthier love and praise. - - --_John Keble._ - - -THE SACRIFICE OF ABRAHAM. - - Genesis, Chapter xxii. - - Morn breaketh in the east. The purple clouds - Are putting on their gold and violet, - To look the meeter for the sun's bright coming. - Sleep is upon the waters and the wind; - And nature, from the wavy forest-leaf - To her majestic master, sleeps. As yet - There is no mist upon the deep blue sky, - And the clear dew is on the blushing bosoms - Of crimson roses in a holy rest. - How hallow'd is the hour of morning! meet-- - Aye, beautifully meet--for the pure prayer. - The patriarch standeth at his tented door, - With his white locks uncover'd. 'Tis his wont - To gaze upon that gorgeous Orient; - And at that hour the awful majesty - Of man who talketh often with his God, - Is wont to come again, and clothe his brow - As at his fourscore strength. But now, he seemeth - To be forgetful of his vigorous frame, - And boweth to his staff as at the hour - Of noontide sultriness. And that bright sun-- - He looketh at its pencill'd messengers, - Coming in golden raiment, as if all - Were but a graven scroll of fearfulness. - Ah, he is waiting till it herald in - The hour to sacrifice his much-loved son! - - Light poureth on the world. And Sarah stands - Watching the steps of Abraham and her child - Along the dewy sides of the far hills, - And praying that her sunny boy faint not. - Would she have watch'd their path so silently, - If she had known that he was going up, - E'en in his fair-hair'd beauty, to be slain - As a white lamb for sacrifice? They trod - Together onward, patriarch and child-- - The bright sun throwing back the old man's shade - In straight and fair proportions, as of one - Whose years were freshly number'd. He stood up - Tall in his vigorous strength; and, like a tree - Rooted in Lebanon, his frame bent not. - His thin white hairs had yielded to the wind, - And left his brow uncover'd; and his face, - Impress'd with the stern majesty of grief - Nerv'd to a solemn duty, now stood forth - Like a rent rock, submissive, yet sublime. - But the young boy--he of the laughing eye - And ruby lip--the pride of life was on him. - He seem'd to drink the morning. Sun and dew, - And the aroma of the spicy trees, - And all that giveth the delicious East - Its fitness for an Eden, stole like light - Into his spirit, ravishing his thoughts - With love and beauty. Every thing he met, - Buoyant, or beautiful, the lightest wing - Of bird or insect, or the palest dye - Of the fresh flowers, won him from his path; - And joyously broke forth his tiny shout, - As he flung back his silken hair, and sprung - Away to some green spot or clustering vine, - To pluck his infant trophies. Every tree - And fragrant shrub was a new hiding place; - And he would crouch till the old man came by, - Then bound before him with his childish laugh, - Stealing a look behind him playfully, - To see if he had made his father smile. - The sun rode on in heaven. The dew stole up - From the fresh daughters of the earth, and heat - Came like a sleep upon the delicate leaves, - And bent them with the blossoms to their dreams. - Still trod the patriarch on, with that same step, - Firm and unfaltering; turning not aside - To seek the olive shades, or lave their lips - In the sweet waters of the Syrian wells, - Whose gush hath so much music. Weariness - Stole on the gentle boy, and he forgot - To toss his sunny hair from off his brow, - And spring for the fresh flowers and light wings - As in the early morning; but he kept - Close by his father's side, and bent his head - Upon his bosom like a drooping bud, - Lifting it not, save now and then to steal - A look up to the face whose sternness awed - His childishness to silence. - It was noon-- - And Abraham on Moriah bow'd himself, - And buried up his face, and pray'd for strength. - He could not look upon his son, and pray; - But, with his hand upon the clustering curls - Of the fair, kneeling boy, he pray'd that God - Would nerve him for that hour. Oh! man was made - For the stern conflict. In a mother's love - There is more tenderness; the thousand chords, - Woven with every fibre of her heart, - Complain, like delicate harp-strings, at a breath; - But love in man is one deep principle, - Which, like a root grown in a rifted rock, - Abides the tempest. He rose up, and laid - The wood upon the altar. All was done. - He stood a moment--and a deep, quick flush - Pass'd o'er his countenance; and then he nerv'd - His spirit with a bitter strength, and spoke-- - "Isaac! my only son!"--The boy look'd up - And Abraham turn'd his face away, and wept. - "Where is the lamb, my father?"--Oh the tones, - The sweet, the thrilling music of a child!-- - How it doth agonize at such an hour!-- - It was the last deep struggle. Abraham held - His loved, his beautiful, his only son, - And lifted up his arm, and called on God-- - And lo! God's angel stayed him--and he fell - Upon his face and wept. - - --_N. P. Willis._ - - -A SOLITARY WAY. - - There is a mystery in human hearts, - And though we be encircled by a host - Of those who love us well, and are beloved, - To every one of us, from time to time, - There comes a sense of utter loneliness. - Our dearest friend is "stranger" to our joy, - And cannot realize our bitterness. - "There is not one who really understands, - Not one to enter into _all_ I feel;" - Such is the cry of each of us in turn, - We wander in a "solitary way," - No matter what or where our lot may be; - Each heart, mysterious even to itself, - Must live its inner life in solitude. - - And would you know the reason why this is? - It is because the Lord desires our love. - In every heart he wishes to be _first_. - He therefore keeps the secret key Himself, - To open _all_ its chambers, and to bless - With _perfect_ sympathy and holy peace, - Each solitary soul which comes to _Him_. - So when we feel this loneliness it is - The voice of Jesus saying, "Come to Me;" - And every time we are "not understood," - It is a call to us to come _again_: - For Christ alone can satisfy the soul, - And those who walk with him from day to day - Can never have a "solitary way." - And when beneath some heavy cross you faint, - And say, "I cannot bear this load alone," - You say the truth. Christ made it purposely - So heavy that you must return to Him. - The bitter grief, which "no one understands," - Conveys a secret message from the King, - Entreating you to come to Him _again_. - The Man of Sorrows understands it well. - In _all_ points tempted He can feel with you. - You cannot come too often, or too near; - The Son of God is infinite in grace. - His presence satisfies the longing soul, - And those who walk with Him from day to day - Can never have a "solitary way." - - --_Unidentified._ - - -THE CHILD'S WELCOME INTO HEAVEN. - - The golden gates were open - And heavenly seraphs smiled - And with their tuneful harpstrings - Welcomed the little child. - - They shouted "high and holy, - A child hath entered in, - And safe from all temptation - A soul is sealed from sin." - - They led him through the golden street - On to the King of kings, - And a glory fell upon him - From the rustling of their wings. - - The Saviour smiled upon him - As none on earth had smiled, - And Heaven's great glory shone around - The little earth-born child. - - On earth they missed the little one, - They sighed and wept and sighed, - And wondered if another such - As theirs, had ever died. - - Oh! had they seen through those high gates, - The welcome to him given, - They never would have wished their child - Back from his home in Heaven. - - --_Unidentified._ - - -"NOW." - - A night of danger on the sea, - Of sleeplessness and fear! - Wave after wave comes thundering - Against the strong stone pier; - Each with a terrible recoil, - And a grim and gathering might, - As blast on blast comes howling past, - Each wild gust wilder than the last, - All through that awful night. - - Well for the ships in harbor now, - Which caught the morning tide; - With cable out and anchor sure, - How peacefully they ride! - Well for the barque that came at eve, - Though watched with breathless fear; - 'Twas sheltered first ere the tempest burst, - 'Tis safe inside the pier! - - But see a faint and fitful light - Out in the howling sea! - A vessel seeks the harbor mouth, - As in death agony. - Though strong stone arms are open wide, - She misses the only way; - Alas! too late, the storm drives fast, - The mighty waves they sweep her past, - And against that sheltering pier they cast - Their wrecked and shattered prey. - - The billows drive the barque along, - Over the deck they dash, - Where sailors five are clinging fast - To broken stump of sail-less mast, - Waiting the final crash. - Is it too late? Can succor yet - Those drowning men now reach! - Life is so near--the firm-built pier - Must be the death of each. - - The daring hearts--the sturdy arms, - The swift and steady feet, - They rush into a yawning grave, - In strong recoil of mightiest wave, - Treading most awful path to save, - As they tread a homeward street. - Over the boulders 'mid foam they rush - Into the ghastly hollow; - They fling the rope to the breaking wreck; - The aim is sure, and it strikes the deck, - The shouts of quick hope follow. - - Reached--not saved! there is more to do, - A trumpet note is heard; - Over the rage,--over the roar - Of thundering billows on the shore, - Rings out the guiding word. - There is one chance, and only one. - All can be saved, but how? - "The rope hold fast, but quit the mast," - The trumpet signals "Now!" - - There is a moment when the sea - Allays its furious strength; - A shuddering pause with sudden whirl, - Gathering force again to hurl - Billow on billow, whirl on whirl; - That moment comes at length: - With single shout the "Now" peals out. - The answering leap is made. - Well for the simple hearts that just - Loosing the mast with fearless trust, - The strange command obeyed! - - The rope is good, the stout arms pull - Ere the storm-lull is o'er; - 'Tis but a swift and blinding sweep - Through waters wild and dark and deep-- - The men are safe on shore-- - Safe! though the fiend-like blast pursue; - Safe! though the waves dash high; - But the ringing cheer that rises clear - Is checked with a sudden cry:-- - - "There are but four upon the shore, - And five were on the deck!" - And strained eyes that pierce the gloom - Still trace, swift drifting on to doom, - One man upon the wreck. - Again they chase in sternest race - The far re-coiling wave; - The rope is cast, the tossing mark - It reaches not, the windy dark - Hides him they strive to save. - - They rush again, again they fail, - Again, and yet again: - The storm yells back defiance loud, - The breakers rear a rampart proud, - And roar, "In vain, in vain!" - Then a giant wave takes up the wreck - And bears it on its crest;-- - One moment it hung quivering there - In horrible arrest. - The lonely man on vengeful sea - A lightning flash uplit, - Still clinging fast to broken mast - He had not dared to quit. - - Then horror of great darkness fell, - While eyes flashed inward fire; - And over all the roar and dash, - Through that great blackness came a crash, - A token sure and dire. - The wave had burst upon the pier, - The wreck was scattered wide; - Another "Now" would never reach - The corpse that lay upon the beach - With the receding tide. - - God's "Now" is sounding in your ears, - Oh, let it reach your heart! - Not only from your sinfulness - He bids you part; - Your righteousness as filthy rags - Must all relinquished be, - And only Jesus' precious death - Must be your plea. - - _Now_ trust the one provided rope, - Now quit the broken mast, - Before the hope of safety be - Forever past. - Fear not to trust His simple word, - So sweet, so tried, so true, - And you are safe for evermore, - Yes,--even you! - - --_Frances Ridley Havergal._ - - -OCEAN TEACHINGS. - - "This great and wide sea."--PSALM civ. 25. - - That rising storm! It has awakened me; - My slumbering spirit starts to life anew; - That blinding spray-drift, how it falls upon me, - As on the weary flower the freshening dew. - - That rugged rock-fringe that girds in the ocean, - And calls the foam from its translucent blue, - It seems to pour strange strength into my spirit,-- - Strength for endurance, strength for conflict too. - - And these bright ocean-birds, these billow-rangers, - The snowy-breasted,--each a winged wave-- - They tell me how to joy in storm and dangers, - When surges whiten, or when whirlwinds rave. - - And these green-stretching fields, these peaceful hollows, - That hear the tempest, but take no alarm, - Has not their placid verdue sweetly taught me - The peace within when all without is storm? - - And thou keen sun-flash, through the cloud-wreath bursting, - Silvering the sea, the sward, the rock, the foam, - What light within me has thy pure gleam kindled? - 'Tis from the land of light that thou art come. - - And of the time how blithely art thou telling, - When cloud and change and tempest shall take wing; - Each beam of thine prophetic of the glory, - Creation's daybreak, earth's long-promised spring. - - Even thus it is, my God me daily teacheth - Sweet knowledge out of all I hear and see; - Each object has a heavenly voice within it, - Each scene, however troubled, speaks to me. - - For all upon this earth is broken beauty, - Yet out of all what strange, deep lessons rise? - Each hour is giving out its heaven-sent wisdom, - A message from the sea, the shore, the skies. - - --_Horatius Bonar._ - - -INCOMPLETENESS. - - Nothing resting in its own completeness - Can have worth or beauty: but alone - Because it leads and tends to further sweetness, - Fuller, higher, deeper than its own. - - Spring's real glory dwells not in the meaning, - Gracious though it be, of her blue hours; - But is hidden in her tender leaning - To the Summer's richer wealth of flowers. - - Dawn is fair, because the mists fade slowly - Into day, which floods the world with light; - Twilight's mystery is so sweet and holy - Just because it ends in starry Night. - - Childhood's smiles unconscious graces borrow - From Strife, that in a far-off future lies; - And angel glances (veiled now by Life's sorrow) - Draw our hearts to some belovèd eyes. - - Life is only bright when it proceedeth - Towards a truer, deeper Life above; - Human Love is sweetest when it leadeth - To a more divine and perfect Love. - - Learn the mystery of Progression duly: - Do not call each glorious change, Decay; - But know we only hold our treasures truly, - When it seems as if they passed away. - - Nor dare to blame God's gifts for incompleteness; - In that want their beauty lies: they roll - Towards some infinite depth of love and sweetness, - Bearing onward man's reluctant soul. - - --_Adelaide Procter._ - - -NOTHING TO DO. - - "Nothing to do" in this world of ours, - Where weeds spring up with the fairest flowers, - Where smiles have only a fitful play, - Where hearts are breaking every day? - - "Nothing to do?" thou Christian soul, - Wrapping thee round in thy selfish stole, - Off with the garments of sloth and sin; - Christ thy Lord hath a kingdom to win. - - "Nothing to do?" there are prayers to lay - On the altar of incense day by day; - There are foes to meet within and without; - There is error to conquer, strong and stout. - - "Nothing to do?" there are minds to teach - The simplest forms of Christian speech; - There are hearts to lure with loving wile - From the grimmest haunts of sin's defile. - - "Nothing to do?" there are lambs to feed, - The precious hope of the Church's need; - Strength to be borne to the weak and faint, - Vigils to keep with the doubting saint. - - "Nothing to do?" there are heights to attain, - Where Christ is transfigured yet again, - Where earth will fade in the vision sweet, - And the soul press on with wingèd feet. - - "Nothing to do?" and thy Saviour said, - "Follow thou me in the path I tread." - Lord, lend thy help the journey through, - Lest, faint, we cry, "So much to do!" - - --_Unidentified._ - - - When death is drawing near, - And thy heart shrinks in fear, - And thy limbs fail, - Then raise thy hands and pray - To Him who smooths the way - Through the dark vale. - - Seest thou the eastern dawn? - Hear'st thou, in the red morn, - The angels' song? - Oh! lift thy drooping head - Thou, who in gloom and dread - Hast lain so long. - - Death comes to set thee free, - Oh! meet him cheerily, - As thy true friend; - And all thy fears shall cease, - And in eternal peace, - Thy penance end. - - --_From_ "_Sintram._" - - -IT IS NOT DEATH TO DIE. - - It is not death to die-- - To leave this weary road, - And, 'mid the brotherhood on high, - To be at home with God. - - It is not death to close - The eye long dimmed by tears, - And wake, in glorious repose - To spend eternal years. - - It is not death to bear - The wrench that sets us free - From dungeon chain,--to breathe the air - Of boundless liberty. - - It is not death to fling - Aside this sinful dust, - And rise, on strong exulting wing, - To live among the just. - - Jesus, thou Prince of life! - Thy chosen cannot die; - Like thee, they conquer in the strife, - To reign with thee on high. - - --_Bethune._ - - -RUGBY CHAPEL. - -NOVEMBER, 1857. - - Coldly, sadly descends - The autumn evening. The field - Strewn with its dark yellow drifts - Of withered leaves, and the elms, - Fade into dimness apace, - Silent; hardly a shout - From a few boys late at their play! - The lights come out in the street, - In the schoolroom windows; but cold, - Solemn, unlighted, austere, - Through the gathering darkness, arise - The chapel-walls, in whose bound - Thou, my father! art laid. - There thou dost lie, in the gloom - Of the autumn evening. But ah! - That word _gloom_ to my mind - Brings thee back in the light - Of thy radiant vigor again. - In the gloom of November we passed - Days not dark at thy side; - Seasons impaired not the ray - Of thy buoyant cheerfulness clear. - Such thou wast! and I stand - In the autumn evening, and think - Of bygone autumns with thee. - - Fifteen years have gone round - Since thou arosest to tread, - In the summer-morning, the road - Of death, at a call unforeseen, - Sudden. For fifteen years, - We who till then in thy shade - Rested as under the boughs - Of a mighty oak, have endured - Sunshine and rain as we might, - Bare, unshaded, alone, - Lacking the shelter of thee. - O strong soul, by what shore - Tarriest thou now? For that force, - Surely, has not been left vain! - Somewhere, surely, afar, - In the sounding labor-house vast - Of being, is practiced that strength, - Zealous, beneficent, firm! - - Yes, in some far-shining sphere, - Conscious or not of the past, - Still thou performest the word - Of the Spirit in whom thou dost live, - Prompt, unwearied, as here. - Still thou upraisest with zeal - The humble good from the ground, - Sternly repressest the bad; - Still, like a trumpet, dost rouse - Those who with half-opened eyes - Tread the border-land dim - 'Twixt vice and virtue reviv'st, - Succorest. This was thy work, - This was the life upon earth. - - What is the course of the life - Of mortal men on the earth? - Most men eddy about - Here and there, eat and drink, - Chatter and love and hate, - Gather and squander, are raised - Aloft, are hurled in the dust, - Striving blindly, achieving - Nothing; and then they die,-- - Perish; and no one asks - Who or what they have been, - More than he asks what waves, - In the moonlit solitudes mild - Of the midmost ocean, have swelled, - Foamed for a moment, and gone. - - And there are some whom a thirst - Ardent, unquenchable, fires, - Not with the crowd to be spent, - Not without aim to go round - In an eddy of purposeless dust, - Effort unmeaning and vain. - Ah yes! some of us strive - Not without action to die - Fruitless, but something to snatch - From dull oblivion, nor all - Glut the devouring grave. - - We, we have chosen our path,-- - Path to a clear-purposed goal, - Path of advance; but it leads - A long, steep journey, through sunk - Gorges, o'er mountains in snow. - Cheerful, with friends, we set forth; - Then, on the height, comes the storm, - Thunder crashes from rock - To rock; the cataracts reply; - Lightnings dazzle our eyes; - Roaring torrents have breached - The track; the stream-bed descends - In the place where the wayfarer once - Planted his footsteps; the spray - Boils o'er its borders; aloft, - The unseen snow-beds dislodge - Their hanging ruin. Alas! - Havoc is made in our train! - Friends who set forth at our side - Falter, are lost in the storm. - - We, we only are left! - With frowning foreheads, with lips - Sternly compressed, we strain on, - On; and at nightfall at last - Come to the end of our way, - To the lonely inn 'mid the rocks; - Where the gaunt and taciturn host - Stands on the threshold, the wind - Shaking his thin white hairs, - Holds his lantern to scan - Our storm-beat figures, and asks,-- - Whom in our party we bring? - Whom we have left in the snow? - - Sadly we answer, We bring - Only ourselves! we lost - Sight of the rest in the storm. - Hardly ourselves we fought through, - Stripped, without friends, as we are. - Friends, companions, and train, - The avalanche swept from our side. - - But thou wouldst not _alone_ - Be saved, my father! _alone_ - Conquer and come to thy goal, - Leaving the rest in the wild. - We were weary, and we - Fearful, and we in our march - Fain to drop down and to die. - Still thou turnedst, and still - Beckonedst the trembler, and still - Gavest the weary thy hand. - If, in the paths of the world, - Stones might have wounded thy feet, - Toil or dejection have tried - Thy spirit, of that we saw - Nothing: to us thou wast still - Cheerful, and helpful, and firm! - Therefore to thee it was given - Many to save with thyself; - And, at the end of thy day, - O faithful shepherd! to come, - Bringing thy sheep in thy hand. - - And through thee I believe - In the noble and great who are gone; - Pure souls honored and blest - By former ages, who else-- - Such, so soulless, so poor, - Is the race of men whom I see-- - Seemed but a dream of the heart, - Seemed but a cry of desire. - Yes! I believed that there lived - Others like thee in the past, - Not like the men of the crowd - Who all round me to-day - Bluster or cringe, and make life - Hideous and arid and vile; - But souls tempered with fire, - Fervent, heroic, and good, - Helpers and friends of mankind. - - Servants of God!--or sons - Shall I not call you? because - Not as servants ye knew - Your Father's innermost mind, - His who unwillingly sees - One of his little ones lost,-- - Yours is the praise, if mankind - Hath not as yet in its march - Fainted and fallen and died. - - See! In the rocks of the world - Marches the host of mankind, - A feeble, wavering line, - Where are they tending? A God - Marshalled them, gave them their goal. - Ah, but the way is so long! - - Years they have been in the wild: - Sore thirst plagues them; the rocks, - Rising all around, overawe; - Factions divide them; their host - Threatens to break, to dissolve. - Ah! keep them combined! - Else, of the myriads who fill - That army, not one shall arrive; - Sole they shall stray; on the rocks - Batter forever in vain, - Die one by one in the waste. - - Then, in such hour of need - Of your fainting, dispirited race, - Ye like angels appear, - Radiant with ardor divine. - Beacons of hope, ye appear! - Languor is not in your heart, - Weakness is not in your word, - Weariness not on your brow. - Ye alight in our van! at your voice, - Panic, despair, flee away. - Ye move through the ranks, recall - The stragglers, refresh the outworn, - Praise, re-inspire the brave. - Order, courage, return; - Eyes rekindling, and prayers, - Follow your steps as you go. - Ye fill up the gaps in our files, - Strengthen the wavering line, - 'Stablish, continue our march, - On, to the bound of the waste, - On, to the City of God. - - --_Matthew Arnold._ - - -THE RIGHT MUST WIN. - - Oh, it is hard to work for God, - To rise and take his part - Upon this battle-field of earth, - And not sometimes lose heart! - - He hides himself so wondrously, - As though there were no God; - He is least seen when all the powers - Of ill are most abroad; - - Or he deserts us in the hour - The fight is all but lost; - And seems to leave us to ourselves - Just when we need him most. - - Yes, there is less to try our faith, - In our mysterious creed, - Than in the godless look of earth, - In these our hours of need. - - Ill masters good; good seems to change - To ill with greatest ease; - And, worst of all, the good with good - Is at cross purposes. - - It is not so, but so it looks; - And we lose courage then; - And doubts will come if God hath kept - His promises to men. - - Ah! God is other than we think; - His ways are far above, - Far beyond reason's height, and reached - Only by childlike love. - - The look, the fashion of God's ways - Love's life long study are; - She can be bold, and guess, and act, - When reason would not dare, - - She has a prudence of her own; - Her step is firm and free; - Yet there is cautious science, too, - In her simplicity. - - Workmen of God! Oh lose not heart, - But learn what God is like; - And in the darkest battle field - Thou shalt know where to strike. - - Thrice blest is he to whom is given - The instinct that can tell - That God is on the field when He - Is most invisible. - - Blest too is he who can divine - Where real right doth lie, - And dares to take the side that seems - Wrong to man's blindfold eye. - - Then learn to scorn the praise of men, - And learn to lose with God; - For Jesus won the world through shame, - And beckons thee His road. - - God's glory is a wondrous thing, - Most strange in all its ways, - And, of all things on earth, least like - What men agree to praise. - - As he can endless glory weave - From what men reckon shame, - In His own world He is content - To play a losing game. - - Muse on His justice, downcast some! - Muse and take better heart; - Back with thine angel to the field, - And bravely do thy part. - - God's justice is a bed, where we - Our anxious hearts may lay, - And, weary with ourselves, may sleep - Our discontent away. - - But right is right, since God is God; - And right the day must win; - To doubt would be disloyalty, - To falter would be sin! - - --_F. W. Faber._ - - -THE SUBSTITUTE. - - "Jesu, plena caritate - Manus tuæ perfortæ - Laxent mea crimina; - Latus tuum lanceatum, - Caput spinis coronatum, - Hæc sint medicamina"--OLD HYMN. - - - I lay my sins on Jesus, - The spotless Lamb of God; - He bears them all and free us - From the accursed load. - I bring my guilt to Jesus, - To wash my crimson stains - White in his blood most precious, - Till not a stain remains. - - I lay my wants on Jesus; - All fullness dwells in Him. - He heals all my diseases, - He doth my soul redeem. - I lay my griefs on Jesus, - My burdens and my cares; - He from them all releases, - He all my sorrows shares. - - I rest my soul on Jesus, - This weary soul of mine; - His right hand me embraces, - I on his breast recline. - I love the name of Jesus, - Immanuel, Christ, the Lord; - Like fragrance on the breezes, - His name abroad is poured. - - I long to be like Jesus, - Meek, loving, lowly, mild, - I long to be like Jesus, - The Father's holy child. - I long to be with Jesus - Amid the heavenly throng, - To sing with saints his praises, - To learn the angel's song. - - --_Horatius Bonar._ - - -JEPHTHAH'S DAUGHTER. - - Judges. Chapter xi. - - She stood before her father's gorgeous tent, - To listen for his coming. Her loose hair - Was resting on her shoulders, like a cloud - Floating around a statue, and the wind, - Just swaying her light robe, reveal'd a shape - Praxiteles might worship. She had clasp'd - Her hands upon her bosom, and had raised - Her beautiful, dark, Jewish eyes to heaven, - Till the long lashes lay upon her brow. - Her lip was slightly parted, like the cleft - Of a pomegranate blossom; and her neck, - Just where the cheek was melting to its curve - With the unearthly beauty sometimes there, - Was shaded, as if light had fallen off, - Its surface was so polish'd. She was stilling - Her light, quick breath, to hear; and the white rose - Scarce moved upon her bosom, as it swell'd, - Like nothing but a lovely wave of light, - To meet the arching of her queenly neck. - Her countenance was radiant with love. - She look'd like one to die for it--a being - Whose whole existence was the pouring out - Of rich and deep affections. I have thought - A brother's and a sister's love were much; - I know a brother's is--for I have been - A sister's idol--and I know how full - The heart may be of tenderness to her! - But the affection of a delicate child - For a fond father, gushing, as it does, - With the sweet springs of life, and pouring on - Through all earth's changes, like a river's course-- - Chasten'd with reverence, and made more pure - By the world's discipline of light and shade-- - 'Tis deeper--holier. - - The wind bore on - The leaden tramp of thousands. Clarion notes - Rang sharply on the ear at intervals; - And the low, mingled din of mighty hosts - Returning from the battle, pour'd from far, - Like the deep murmur of a restless sea. - They came, as earthly conquerors always come, - With blood and splendor, revelry and woe. - The stately horse treads proudly--he hath trod - The brow of death, as well. The chariot-wheels - Of warriors roll magnificently on-- - Their weight hath crush'd the fallen. _Man_ is there-- - Majestic, lordly man--with his sublime - And elevated brow, and godlike frame; - Lifting his crest in triumph--for his heel - Hath trod the dying like a wine-press down! - The mighty Jephthah led his warriors on - Through Mizpeh's streets. His helm was proudly set, - And his stern lip curl'd slightly, as if praise - Were for the hero's scorn. His step was firm, - But free as India's leopard; and his mail, - Whose _shekels_ none in Israel might bear, - Was like a cedar's tassel on his frame. - His crest was Judah's kingliest; and the look - Of his dark, lofty eye, and bended brow, - Might quell the lion. He led on, but thoughts - Seem'd gathering round which troubled him. The veins - Grew visible upon his swarthy brow, - And his proud lip was press'd as if with pain. - He trod less firmly; and his restless eye - Glanced forward frequently, as if some ill - He dared not meet, were there. His home was near; - And men were thronging, with that strange delight - They have in human passions, to observe - The struggle of his feelings with his pride. - He gazed intensely forward. The tall firs - Before his tent were motionless. The leaves - Of the sweet aloe, and the clustering vines - Which half conceal'd his threshold, met his eye, - Unchanged and beautiful; and one by one, - The balsam, with its sweet-distilling stems, - And the Circassian rose, and all the crowd - Of silent and familiar things, stole up, - Like the recover'd passages of dreams. - He strode on rapidly. A moment more, - And he had reach'd his home; when lo! there sprang - One with a bounding footstep, and a brow - Of light to meet him. Oh how beautiful!-- - Her dark eye flashing like a sun-lit gem-- - And her luxuriant hair!--'twas like the sweep - Of a swift wing in visions. He stood still, - As if the sight had wither'd him. She threw - Her arms about her neck--he heeded not. - She call'd him "Father"--but he answer'd not. - She stood and gazed upon him. Was he wroth? - There was no anger in that blood-shot eye. - Had sickness seized him? She unclasp'd his helm, - And laid her white hand gently on his brow, - And the large veins felt stiff and hard, like cords. - The touch aroused him. He raised up his hands. - And spoke the name of God, in agony. - She knew that he was stricken, then, and rush'd - Again into his arms; and, with a flood - Of tears she could not bridle, sobb'd a prayer - That he would breathe his agony in words. - He told her--and a momentary flush - Shot o'er her countenance; and then the soul - Of Jephthah's daughter waken'd; and she stood - Calmly and nobly up, and said 'twas well-- - And she would die. - - * * * * * - - The sun had well nigh set. - The fire was on the altar; and the priest - Of the High God was there. A pallid man - Was stretching out his trembling hands to heaven, - As if he would have pray'd, but had no words-- - And she who was to die, the calmest one - In Israel at that hour, stood up alone, - And waited for the sun to set. Her face - Was pale, but very beautiful--her lip - Had a more delicate outline, and the tint - Was deeper; but her countenance was like - The majesty of angels. - The sun set-- - And she was dead--but not by violence. - - --_N. P. Willis._ - - - Lord, many times I am aweary quite - Of mine own self, my sin, my vanity-- - Yet be not Thou, or I am lost outright, - Weary of me. - - And hate against myself I often bear, - And enter with myself in fierce debate: - Take Thou my part against myself, nor share - In that just hate! - - Best friends might loathe us, if what things perverse - We know of our own selves, they also knew: - Lord, Holy One! if Thou who knowest worse - Shouldst loathe us too! - - --_Richard Chenevix Trench._ - - -CLEANSING FIRES. - - Let thy gold be cast in the furnace, - Thy red gold, precious and bright; - Do not fear the hungry fire, - With its caverns of burning light; - And thy gold shall return more precious, - Free from every spot and stain; - For gold must be tried by fire, - As a heart must be tried by pain. - - In the cruel fire of sorrow - Cast thy heart, do not faint or wail; - Let thy hand be firm and steady, - Do not let thy spirit quail: - But wait till the trial is over, - And take thy heart again; - For as gold is tried by fire, - So a heart must be tried by pain! - - I shall know by the gleam and glitter - Of the golden chain you wear, - By your heart's calm strength in loving, - Of the fire they have had to bear. - Beat on, true heart, forever; - Shine bright strong golden chain; - And bless the cleansing fire, - And the furnace of living pain! - - --_Adelaide Procter._ - - -GONE BEFORE. - - Thou art in heaven, and I am still on earth; - 'Tis years, long years, since we were parted here, - I still a wanderer amid grief and fear, - And thou the tenant of a brighter sphere. - Yet still thou seemest near; - But yesterday it seems, - Since the last clasp was given, - Since our lips met, - And our eyes looked into each other's depths. - - Thou art amid the deathless, I still here, - Amid things mortal, in a land of graves, - A land o'er which the heavy-beating waves - Of changing time move on, a land where raves - The storm, which whoso braves - Must have his anchor fixed - Firmly within the vail--; - So let my anchor be; - Such be my consolation and my hope! - - Thou art amid the sorrowless, I here - Amid the sorrowing: and yet not long - Shall I remain 'mid sin, and fear, and wrong: - Soon shall I join you in your sinless song. - Thy day has come, not gone, - Thy sun has risen, not set, - Thy life is now beyond - The reach of death or change; - Not ended, but begun, - Such shall our life be soon. - - And then,--the meeting-day, - How full of light and joy! - All fear of change cast out, - All shadows passed away, - The union sealed forever - Between us and our Lord. - - --_Horatius Bonar._ - - -THE LENT JEWELS. - - In schools of wisdom all the day was spent: - His steps at eve the Rabbi homeward bent, - With homeward thoughts, which dwelt upon the wife - And two fair children, who consoled his life. - She meeting at the threshold led him in, - And with these words preventing, did begin:-- - "Ever rejoicing at your wished return, - Yet am I most so now: for since this morn - I have been much perplexed and sorely tried - Upon one point which you shall now decide. - Some years ago, a friend into my care - Some jewels gave--rich, precious gems they were; - But having given them in my charge, this friend - Did afterward nor come for them, nor send, - But left them in my keeping for so long, - That now it almost seems to me, a wrong - That he should suddenly arrive to-day, - To take those jewels, which he left, away. - What think you? Shall I freely yield them back, - And with no murmuring?--so henceforth to lack - Those gems myself, which I had learned to see - Almost as mine forever, mine in fee." - - "What question can be here? Your own true heart - Must needs advise you of the only part: - That may be claimed again which was but lent, - And should be yielded with no discontent. - Nor surely can we find herein a wrong - That it was left us to enjoy it long." - - "Good is the word," she answered; "may we now - And evermore that it is good allow!" - And, rising, to an inner chamber led, - And there she showed him, stretched upon one bed, - Two children pale: and he the jewels knew, - Which God had lent him, and resumed anew. - - --_Richard Chenevix Trench._ - - -ON THE DEATH OF A MISSIONARY. - - How beautiful it is for man to die - Upon the walls of Zion! to be call'd, - Like a watch-worn and weary sentinel, - To put his armor off, and rest--in heaven! - - The sun was setting on Jerusalem, - The deep blue sky had not a cloud, and light - Was pouring on the dome of Omar's mosque, - Like molten silver. Every thing was fair; - And beauty hung upon the painted fanes; - Like a grieved spirit, lingering ere she gave - Her wing to air, for heaven. The crowds of men - Were in the busy streets, and nothing look'd - Like woe, or suffering, save one small train - Bearing the dead to burial. It pass'd by, - And left no trace upon the busy throng. - The sun was just as beautiful; the shout - Of joyous revelry, and the low hum - Of stirring thousands rose as constantly! - Life look'd as winning; and the earth and sky, - And every thing seem'd strangely bent to make - A contrast to that comment upon life. - How wonderful it is that human pride - Can pass that touching moral as it does-- - Pass it so frequently, in all the force - Of mournful and most simple eloquence-- - And learn no lesson! They bore on the dead, - With the slow step of sorrow, troubled not - By the rude multitude, save, here and there, - A look of vague inquiry, or a curse - Half-mutter'd by some haughty Turk whose sleeve - Had touch'd the tassel of the Christian's pall - And Israel too pass'd on--the trampled Jew! - Israel!--who made Jerusalem a throne - For the wide world--pass'd on as carelessly; - Giving no look of interest to tell - The shrouded dead was any thing to her. - Oh that they would be gather'd as a brood - Is gather'd by a parent's sheltering wings!-- - - They laid him down with strangers, for his home - Was with the setting sun, and they who stood - And look'd so steadfastly upon his grave, - Were not his kindred; but they found him there, - And loved him for his ministry of Christ. - He had died young. But there are silver'd heads, - Whose race of duty is less nobly run. - His heart was with Jerusalem; and strong - As was a mother's love, and the sweet ties - Religion makes so beautiful at home, - He flung them from him in his eager race, - And sought the broken people of his God, - To preach to them of JESUS. There was one, - Who was his friend and helper. One who went - And knelt beside him at the sepulchre - Where Jesus slept, to pray for Israel. - They had one spirit, and their hearts were knit - With more than human love. God call'd him home. - And he of whom I speak stood up alone, - And in his broken-heartedness wrought on - Until his Master call'd him. - - Oh, is it not a noble thing to die. - As dies the Christian, with his armor on!-- - What is the hero's clarion, though its blast - Ring with the mastery of a world, to this?-- - What are the searching victories of the mind-- - The lore of vanish'd ages?--What are all - The trumpetings of proud humanity, - To the short history of Him who made - His sepulchre beside the King of kings? - - --_N. P. Willis._ - - -SET APART. - - "Know that the Lord hath set apart him that is godly for - Himself."--Ps. iv. 3. - - Set apart for Jesus! - Is not this enough, - Though the desert prospect, - Open wild and rough? - Set apart for His delight, - Chosen for His holy pleasure, - Sealed to be His special treasure! - Could we choose a nobler joy?--and would we if we might? - - Set apart to serve Him, - Ministers of light, - Standing in His presence, - Ready day or night! - Chosen for His service blest - He would have us always willing - Like the angel-hosts fulfilling - Swiftly and rejoicingly each recognized behest. - - Set apart to praise Him, - Set apart for this! - Have the blessed angels - Any truer bliss? - Soft the prelude, though so clear; - Isolated tones are trembling, - But the chosen choir, assembling, - Soon shall sing together, while the universe shall hear. - - Set apart to love Him, - And His love to know! - Not to waste affection - On a passing show. - Called to give Him life and heart, - Called to pour the hidden treasure, - That none other claims to measure, - Into His beloved hand! thrice-blessèd 'set apart!' - - Set apart for ever - For Himself alone! - Now we see our calling - Gloriously shown! - Owning, with no secret dread, - This our holy separation, - Now the crown of consecration - Of the Lord our God shall rest upon our willing head! - - --_Frances Ridley Havergal._ - - -THE USEFUL LIFE. - - =Psychê mou, psychê mou, - Anasta, ti katheudeis.= - OLD GREEK HYMN. - - Go labor on; spend, and be spent,-- - Thy joy to do the Father's will; - It is the way the Master went, - Should not the servant tread it still? - - Go labor on; 'tis not for nought; - Thy earthly loss is heavenly gain; - Men heed thee, love thee, praise thee not; - The Master praises, what are men? - - Go labor on; enough, while here, - If He shall praise thee, if he deign - Thy willing heart to mark and cheer; - No toil for Him shall be in vain. - - Go labor on; your hands are weak, - Your knees are faint, your soul cast down; - Yet falter not; the prize you seek, - Is near,--a kingdom and a crown! - - Go labor on, while it is day, - The world's dark night is hastening on; - Speed, speed thy work, cast sloth away: - It is not thus that souls are won. - - Men die in darkness at your side, - Without a hope to cheer the tomb; - Take up the torch and wave it wide, - The torch that lights time's thickest gloom. - - Toil on, faint not, keep watch and pray; - Be wise, the erring soul to win; - Go forth into the world's highway, - Compel the wanderer to come in. - - Toil on, and in thy toil rejoice; - For toil comes rest, for exile home; - Soon shalt thou hear the Bridegroom's voice, - The midnight peal, behold I come! - - --_Horatius Bonar._ - - -HYMN. - - O holy Saviour, Friend unseen, - The faint, the weak, on Thee may lean, - Help me, throughout life's varying scene, - By faith to cling to Thee! - - Blest with communion so Divine, - Take what Thou wilt, shall I repine, - When, as the branches to the vine, - My soul may cling to Thee? - - Far from her home, fatigued, oppressed, - Here she has found a place of rest, - An exile still, yet not unblest, - While she can cling to Thee! - - Without a murmur I dismiss - My former dreams of earthly bliss, - My joy, my recompense be this, - Each hour to cling to Thee! - - What though the world deceitful prove, - And earthly friends and joys remove, - With patient, uncomplaining love, - Still would I cling to Thee! - - Oft when I seem to tread alone - Some barren waste with thorns o'ergrown, - A voice of love, in gentlest tone, - Whispers, "Still cling to Me!" - - Though faith and hope awhile be tried, - I ask not, need not, aught beside; - How safe, how calm, how satisfied, - The souls that cling to Thee! - - They fear not Life's rough storms to brave, - Since Thou art near, and strong to save; - Nor shudder e'en at Death's dark wave, - Because they cling to Thee! - - Blest is my lot, whate'er befall; - What can disturb me, who appal; - While, as my strength, my rock, my all, - Saviour, I cling to Thee! - - --_Charlotte Elliot._ - - -"BEHOLD, THE BRIDEGROOM COMETH!" - - I. - - Behold, a Royal Bridegroom - Hath called me for His bride! - I joyfully make ready - And hasten to His side. - He is a Royal Bridegroom, - But I am very poor! - Of low estate He chose me - To show His love the more: - For He hath purchased for me - Such goodly, rich array,-- - Oh, surely never Bridegroom - Gave gifts like His away. - - II. - - When first upon the mountains, - I, in the vale below, - Beheld Him waiting for me, - Heard His command to go, - I, poorest in the valley, - Oh, how could I prepare - To meet His royal presence? - How could I make me fair? - Ah! in His love He sent me - A garment clean and white: - And promised broidered raiment - All glorious in His sight. - And then He gave me glimpses - Of the jewels for my hair, - And the ornament most precious - For His chosen bride to wear. - - III. - - First in my tears I washed me,-- - They could not make me clean: - A fountain then He showed me, - Strange until then unseen! - So close I'd lived beside it - For many weary years, - Yet passing by the fountain - Had bathed me in my tears. - Oh, love, oh, grace, that showed it! - Revealed its cleansing power! - How could I choose but hasten - To meet Him from that hour. - - IV. - - I said, delay no longer; - He surely will provide - All for the toilsome journey, - Up the steep mountain side. - He sought me in the valley-- - He knows my utmost need; - But He's a Royal Bridegroom, - I shall be rich indeed. - Rich in His pardoning mercies,-- - Bounties that never cease: - Rich in His loving kindness, - Rich in His joy and peace, - So then I took the Raiment. - And the jewels that He sent; - And, gazing on His beauty, - I up the hillside went. - - V. - - And still with feeble footsteps, - And turning oft astray, - I go to meet the Bridegroom, - Though stumbling by the way - I soil my royal garments - With earth whene'er I fall; - I break and mar my ornaments, - But He will know them all. - For it was He who gave them; - Will He forget His own? - Ah! for the love He bore me, - He called! will He disown? - - VI. - - He sent His Guide to guide me: - He knew how blind, how frail - The children of the valley:-- - He knew my love would fail. - He knew the mists above me - Would hide Him from my sight. - And I, in darkness groping, - Would wander from the right. - I know that I must follow - Slow when I fain would soar: - That step by step thus upward, - My Guide must go before. - - VII. - - Cleave close, dear Guide, and lead me! - I cannot go aright! - Through all that doth beset me, - Keep, keep me close in sight! - 'Tis but a little longer; - Methinks the end I see: - Oh! matchless love and mercy, - The Bridegroom waits for me; - Waits, to present me faultless, - Before His Father's throne; - His comeliness my beauty, - His righteousness my own. - - --_Unidentified._ - - - "It may be in the evening, - When the work of the day is done, - And you have time to sit in the twilight - And watch the sinking sun, - While the long bright day dies slowly - Over the sea, - And the hour grows quiet and holy - With thoughts of Me, - While you hear the village children - Passing along the street - Among those thronging footsteps - May come the sound of My Feet: - Therefore I tell you, Watch! - By the light of the evening star, - When the room is growing dusky - As the clouds afar; - Let the door be on the latch - In your home, - For it may be through the gloaming - I will come. - - "It may be when the midnight - Is heavy upon the land, - And the black waves lying humbly - Along the sand; - When the moonless night draws close, - And the lights are out in the house; - When the fires burn low and red, - And the watch is ticking loudly - Beside the bed: - Though you sleep, tired out on your couch, - Still your heart must wake and watch - In the dark room, - For it may be that at midnight - I will come. - - "It may be at the cock-crow, - When the night is dying slowly - In the sky, - And the sea looks calm and holy, - Waiting for the dawn of the golden sun - Which draweth nigh; - When the mists are on the valleys, shading - The rivers chill, - And my morning star is fading, fading - Over the hill: - Behold, I say unto you, Watch! - Let the door be on the latch: - In your home: - In the chill before the dawning, - Between the night and morning - I may come. - - "It may be in the morning, - When the sun is bright and strong, - And the dew is glittering sharply - Over the little lawn; - When the waves are laughing loudly - Along the shore, - And the little birds are singing sweetly - About the door. - With the long day's work before you, - You rise up with the sun, - And the neighbors come in to talk a little, - Of all that must be done; - But remember that I may be the next - To come in at the door, - To call you from all your busy work - For evermore: - As you work your heart must watch, - For the door is on the latch - In your room, - And it may be in the morning - I will come." - - So He passed down my cottage garden, - By the path that leads to the sea, - Till he came to the turn of the little road, - Where the birch and laburnum tree - Lean over and arch the way. - There I saw him a moment stay, - And turn once more to me, - As I wept at the cottage door, - And lift up His hands in blessing-- - Then I saw His face no more. - And I stood still in the door-way - Leaning against the wall, - Not heeding the fair white roses, - Though I crushed them, and let them fall, - Only looking down the pathway, - And looking towards the sea, - And wondering, and wondering - When He would come back for me, - Till I was aware of an angel - Who was going swiftly by, - With the gladness of one who goeth - In the light of God most high - He passed the end of the cottage - Towards the garden gate,-- - (I suppose He was come down - At the setting of the sun, - To comfort some one in the village - Whose dwelling was desolate,) - And He passed before the door - Beside my place, - And the likeness of a smile - Was on His face:-- - "Weep not," He said, "for unto you is given, - To watch for the coming of His feet, - Who is the glory of our blessed Heaven: - The work and watching will be very sweet - Even in an earthly home, - And in such an hour as ye think not - He will come." - So I am watching quietly - Every day; - Whenever the sun shines brightly - I rise and say,-- - Surely it is the shining of His face! - And look unto the gates of His high place, - Beyond the sea, - For I know He is coming shortly - To summon me. - And when a shadow falls across the window - Of my room, - Where I am working my appointed task, - I lift my head to watch the door, and ask - If He is come; - And the angel answers sweetly - In my home,-- - "Only a few more shadows, - And He will come." - - --_Unidentified_. - - -THE JOY OF ASSURANCE. - - It is too calm to be a dream, - Too gravely sweet, too full of power, - Prayer changed to praise this very hour! - Yes, heard and answered! though it seem - Beyond the hope of yesterday, - Beyond the faith that dared to pray, - Yet not beyond the love that heard, - And not beyond the faithful word - On which each trembling prayer may rest, - And win the answer truly best. - - Yes, heard and answered! sought and found! - I breathe a golden atmosphere - Of solemn joy, and seem to hear - Within, above, and all around, - The chime of deep cathedral bells, - An early herald peal that tells - A glorious Easter tide begun; - While yet are sparkling in the sun - Large rain drops of the night storm passed, - And days of Lent are gone at last. - - --_Frances Ridley Havergal_. - - -"HOW WONDERFUL!" - - He answered all my prayer abundantly, - And crowned the work that to _His_ feet I brought, - With blessing more than I had asked or thought-- - A blessing undisguised, and fair, and free. - - I stood amazed, and whispered, "Can it be - That He hath granted all the boon I sought? - How wonderful that He for me hath wrought! - How wonderful that He hath answered me!" - - O faithless heart! He _said_ that He would hear - And answer thy poor prayer, and He _hath_ heard - And proved His promise. Wherefore didst thou fear? - Why marvel that thy Lord hath kept His word? - More wonderful if He should fail to bless - Expectant faith and prayer with good success! - - --_Frances Ridley Havergal._ - - -THY WAY, NOT MINE. - - Thy way, not mine, O Lord, - However dark it be! - Lead me by Thine own hand, - Choose out the path for me. - - Smooth let it be or rough, - It will be still the best, - Winding or straight, it matters not, - It leads me to Thy rest. - - I dare not choose my lot: - I would not, if I might; - Choose Thou for me, my God, - So shall I walk aright. - - The kingdom that I seek - Is Thine: so let the way - That leads to it be Thine, - Else I must surely stray. - - Take Thou my cup, and it - With joy or sorrow fill, - As best to Thee may seem; - Choose Thou my good and ill. - - Choose Thou for me my friends, - My sickness or my health, - Choose Thou my cares for me, - My poverty or wealth. - - Not mine, not mine the choice, - In things or great or small; - Be Thou my guide, my strength, - My wisdom, and my all. - - --_Horatius Bonar_. - - -A CHILD'S FIRST IMPRESSION OF A STAR. - - She had been told that God made all the stars, - That twinkled up in heaven, and now she stood - Watching the coming of the twilight on, - As if it were a new and perfect world, - And this were its first eve. She stood alone - By the low window, with the silken lash - Of her soft eye upraised, and her sweet mouth - Half parted with the new and strange delight - Of beauty that she could not comprehend, - And had not seen before. The purple folds - Of the low sunset clouds, and the blue sky - That look'd so still and delicate above, - Fill'd her young heart with gladness, and the eve - Stole on with its deep shadows, and she still - Stood looking at the west with that half smile, - As if a pleasant thought were at her heart. - Presently, in the edge of the last tint - Of sunset, where the blue was melted in - To the faint golden mellowness, a star - Stood suddenly. A laugh of wild delight - Burst from her lips, and putting up her hands, - Her simple thought broke forth expressively-- - "Father! dear father! God has made a star!" - - --_N. P. Willis._ - - -"COME UNTO ME!" - - Art thou weary? Art thou languid? - Art thou sore distrest? - "Come to Me," saith One, "and coming, - Be at rest!" - - Hath He marks to lead me to Him, - If He be my Guide? - "In His feet and hands are wound-prints, - And His side." - - Is there diadem as monarch - That His brow adorns? - "Yea, a crown in very surety, - But of thorns!" - - If I find Him, if I follow, - What his guerdon here? - "Many a sorrow, many a labor, - Many a tear." - - If I still hold closely to Him, - What hath He at last? - "Sorrow vanquished, labor ended, - Jordan past!" - - If I ask Him to receive me, - Will He say me nay? - "Not till earth and not till Heaven - Pass away!" - - Finding, following, keeping, struggling, - Is He sure to bless? - "Angels, martyrs, prophets, pilgrims, - Answer--Yes!" - - --_From St. Stephen the Sabaite._ - - -"LOOKING UNTO JESUS." - - Thou, Lord, my path shalt choose, - And my Guide be! - What shall I fear to lose - While I have Thee? - This be my portion blest, - On my Redeemer's breast, - In peaceful trust to rest: - He cares for me! - - Shall I then, choose my way? - Never, oh, no! - I, a creature of a day, - What can I know? - What dread perplexity, - Then would encompass me; - Now I can look to Thee, - Thou orderest so! - - This lightens every cross, - Cheers every ill; - Suffer I grief or loss, - It is Thy will! - Who can make no mistake, - Chooseth the way I take, - He who can ne'er forsake, - Holds my hand still! - - Sweet words of peace and love - Christ whispers me! - Bearing my soul above - Life's troubled sea! - This be my portion blest, - On my Redeemer's breast, - In peaceful trust to rest: - He cares for me! - - Christ died my love to win, - Christ is my tower! - He will be with me in - Each trying hour! - He makes the wounded whole, - He will my heart console, - He will uphold my soul - By His own power! - - To Thee, the only, Wise, - Whatever be, - I will lift up mine eyes - Joyful in Thee! - This be my portion blest, - On my Redeemer's breast - In peaceful trust to rest: - He cares for me! - - --_From the German._ - - -EVENING HYMN. - - The shadows of the evening hours - Fall from the darkening sky; - Upon the fragrance of the flowers - The dews of evening lie; - Before Thy throne, O Lord of Heaven, - We kneel at close of day; - Look on Thy children from on high, - And hear us while we pray. - - The sorrows of Thy servants, Lord, - O do not Thou despise; - But let the incense of our prayers - Before Thy mercy rise; - The brightness of the coming night - Upon the darkness rolls: - With hopes of future glory chase - The shadows on our souls. - - Slowly the rays of daylight fade; - So fade within our heart - The hopes in earthly love and joy, - That one by one depart: - Slowly the bright stars, one by one, - Within the heavens shine;-- - Give us, O Lord, fresh hopes in Heaven, - And trust in things divine. - - Let peace, O Lord, Thy peace, O God, - Upon our souls descend - From midnight fears and perils, thou - Our trembling hearts defend; - Give us a respite from our toil, - Calm and subdue our woes; - Through the long day we suffer, Lord, - O give us now repose! - - --_Adelaide Procter._ - - -ARE ALL THE CHILDREN IN? - - The darkness falls; the wind is high; - Dense, black clouds fill the western sky; - The storm will soon begin; - The thunders roar, the lightnings flash, - I hear the great round rain-drops dash, - Are all the children in? - - They're coming softly to my side, - Their forms within my arms I hide, - No other arms are sure: - The storm may rage with fury wild, - With trusting faith each little child - With mother feels secure. - - But future days are drawing near; - They'll go from this warm shelter here - Out in the world's wild din. - The rains will fall, the cold winds blow, - I'll sit alone and long to know - Are all the children in. - - Will they have shelter then secure, - Where hearts are waiting strong and sure, - And love is true when tried? - Or will they find a broken reed, - When strength of heart they so much need - To help them brave the tide? - - God knows it all; His will is best; - I'll shield them now and yield the rest - To His most righteous hand: - Sometimes the souls He loves are riven - By tempests wild, and thus are driven - Nearer the better land. - - If He should call me home before - The children go, on that bless'd shore - Afar from care and sin, - I know that I shall watch and wait - Till He, the keeper of the gate, - Lets all the children in. - - --_Unidentified._ - - -HE LEADS US ON. - - He leads us on, - By paths we did not know - Upward He leads us, though our steps be slow, - Though oft we faint and falter on the way, - Though storms and darkness oft obscure the day, - Yet when the clouds are gone - We know He leads us on. - - He leads us on - Through all the unquiet years; - Past all our dreamland hopes, and doubts, and fears - He guides our steps. Through all the tangled maze - Of sin, of sorrow, and o'erclouded days - We know His will is done; - And still He leads us on. - - And He, at last, - After the weary strife-- - After the restless fever we call life-- - After the dreariness, the aching pain, - The wayward struggles which have proved in vain, - After our toils are past-- - Will give us rest at last. - - --_Unidentified._ - - -NOTHING BUT LEAVES. - - Nothing but leaves: the spirit grieves - Over a wasted life. - Sins committed while conscience slept; - Promises made, but never kept; - Hatred, battle, and strife-- - Nothing but leaves. - - Nothing but leaves: no garnered sheaves - Of life's fair ripened grain; - Words, idle words, for earnest deeds. - We sow our seed--lo! tares and weeds: - Go reap with toil and pain - Nothing but leaves. - - Nothing but leaves: memory weaves - No veil to sever the past; - As we return our weary way, - Counting each lost and misspent day, - We find sadly, at last, - Nothing but leaves. - - And shall we meet the Master so, - Bearing our withered leaves? - The Saviour looks for perfect fruit: - We stand before Him, humbled, mute, - Waiting the word He breathes-- - Nothing but leaves. - - --_Unidentified._ - - -BECAUSE HE FIRST LOVED US. - - I love Thee, O my God! but not - For what I hope thereby, - Nor yet because who love Thee not - Must die eternally. - I love Thee, O my God! and still - I ever will love Thee, - Solely because, my God, Thou art - Who first has lovèd me! - - For me, to lowest depths of woe - Thou didst Thyself abase; - For me didst bear the cross, the shame, - And manifold disgrace; - For me didst suffer pains unknown, - Blood-sweat and agony. - Yea, death itself--all, all for me! - For me, Thine enemy! - - Then shall I not, O Saviour, mine! - Shall I not love Thee well? - Not with the hope of winning heaven, - Nor of escaping hell; - Not with the hope of earning aught, - Nor seeking a reward; - But freely, fully, as Thyself - Hast lovèd me, O Lord! - - --_Francis Xavier._ - - -SONNET. - - Our course is onward, onward into light: - What though the darkness gathereth amain, - Yet to return or tarry, both are vain. - How tarry, when around us is thick night? - Whither return? what flower yet ever might, - In days of gloom, and cold, and stormy rain, - Enclose itself in its green bud again, - Hiding from wrath of tempest out of sight? - Courage!--we travel through a darksome cave; - But still, as nearer to the light we draw, - Fresh gales will reach us from the upper air, - And wholesome dews of heaven our foreheads lave, - The darkness lighten more, till full of awe - We stand in the open sunshine--unaware. - - --_Richard Chenevix Trench._ - - -REST AT EVENING. - - When the weariness of Life is ended, - And the task of our long day is done, - And the props, on which our hearts depended, - All have failed or broken, one by one: - Evening and our Sorrow's shadow blended, - Telling us that peace is now begun. - - How far back will seem the sun's first dawning - And those early mists so cold and gray! - Half forgotten even the toil of morning, - And the heat and burden of the day. - Flowers that we were tending, and weeds scorning, - All alike are withered and cast away. - - Vain will seem the impatient heart which waited, - Toils that gathered but too quickly round; - And the childish joy, so soon elated - At the path we thought none else had found; - And the foolish ardor soon abated - By the storm which cast us to the ground. - - Vain those pauses on the road, each seeming - As our final home and resting-place; - And the leaving them, while tears were streaming - Of eternal sorrow down our face; - And the hands we held, fond folly dreaming - That no future could their touch efface. - - All will then be faded:--night will borrow - Stars of light to crown our perfect rest; - And the dim vague memory of faint sorrow - Just remain to show us all was best, - Then melt into a divine to-morrow:-- - O how poor a day to be so blest! - - --_Adelaide Procter._ - - - Now the day is over, - Night is drawing nigh, - Shadows of the evening - Steal across the sky. - - Now the darkness gathers, - Stars begin to peep, - Birds, and beasts, and flowers, - Soon will be asleep. - - JESU, give the weary - Calm and sweet repose; - With Thy tenderest blessing - May mine eyelids close. - - Grant to little children - Visions bright of Thee; - Guard the sailors tossing - On the deep blue sea. - - Comfort every sufferer - Watching late in pain; - Those who plan some evil - From their sin restrain. - - Through the long night watches - May Thine Angels spread - Their white wings above me, - Watching round my bed. - - When the morning wakens, - Then may I arise - Pure, and fresh, and sinless - In Thy Holy Eyes. - - Glory to the FATHER, - Glory to the SON, - And to Thee, Blest SPIRIT, - Whilst all ages run. - - --_Unidentified._ - - -THE LAND OF LIGHT. - - That clime is not this dull clime of ours; - All, is brightness there; - A sweeter influence breathes around its flowers, - And a far milder air. - No calm below is like that calm above. - No region here is like that realm of love; - Earth's softest spring ne'er shed so soft a light, - Earth's brightest summer never shone so bright. - - That sky is not like this sad sky of ours, - Tinged with earth's change and care; - No shadow dims it, and no rain-cloud lowers,-- - No broken sunshine there! - One everlasting stretch of azure pours - Its stainless splendor o'er these sinless shores; - For there Jehovah shines with heavenly ray, - There Jesus reigns dispensing endless day. - - Those dwellers there are not like these of earth, - No mortal stain they bear; - And yet they seem of kindred blood and birth, - Whence, and how came they there? - Earth was their native soil, from sin and shame, - Through tribulation they to glory came; - Bond-slaves delivered from sin's crushing load, - Brands plucked from burning by the hand of God. - - Those robes of theirs are not for these below; - No angel's half so bright! - Whence came that beauty, whence that living glow? - Whence came that radiant white? - Washed in the blood of the atoning Lamb, - Fair as the light those robes of theirs became, - And now, all tears wiped off from every eye, - They wander where the freshest pastures lie, - Through all the nightless day of that unfading sky! - - --_Horatius Bonar._ - - - Abide with me! fast falls the evening tide, - The darkness deepens; Lord, with me abide; - When other helpers fail, and comforts flee, - Help of the helpless, oh, abide with me. - - Swift to its close ebbs out life's little day; - Earth's joys grow dim, its glories pass away; - Change and decay on all around I see; - O Thou who changest not, abide with me. - - I need Thy presence every passing hour, - What but Thy grace can foil the tempter's power? - Who like Thyself my guide and stay can be? - Through cloud and sunshine, Lord, abide with me. - - I fear no foe, with Thee at hand to bless; - Ills have no weight, and tears no bitterness. - Where is death's sting? where, grave, thy victory? - I triumph still, if Thou abide with me. - - Hold Thou Thy cross before my closing eyes; - Shine through the gloom, and point me to the skies; - Heaven's morning breaks, and earth's vain shadows flee; - In life, in death, O Lord, abide with me. - - --_Lyte._ - - -FAREWELL OF THE SOUL TO THE BODY. - - Companion dear! the hour draws nigh, - The sentence speeds--_to die, to die_. - So long in mystic union held, - So close with strong embrace compell'd, - How canst thou bear the dread decree, - That strikes thy clasping nerves from me? - --To Him who on this mortal shore, - The same encircling vestment wore, - To Him I look, to Him I bend, - To Him thy shuddering frame commend. - --If I have ever caus'd thee pain, - The throbbing breast, the burning brain, - With cares and vigils turn'd thee pale, - And scorn'd thee when thy strength did fail - Forgive!--Forgive!--Thy task doth cease, - Friend! Lover!--let us part in peace. - If thou didst sometimes check my force, - Or, trifling, stay mine upward course, - Or lure from Heaven my wavering trust, - Or bow my drooping wing to dust-- - I blame thee not, the strife is done, - I knew thou wert the weaker one, - The vase of earth, the trembling clod, - Constrained to hold the breath of God. - --Well hast thou in my service wrought, - Thy brow hath mirror'd forth my thought, - To wear my smile thy lip hath glow'd, - Thy tear, to speak my sorrows, flowed, - Thine ear hath borne me rich supplies - Of sweetly varied melodies, - Thy hands my prompted deeds have done, - Thy feet upon mine errands run-- - Yes, thou hast mark'd my bidding well, - Faithful and true! Farewell, farewell! - - Go to thy rest. A quiet bed - Meek mother, earth with flowers shall spread, - Where I no more thy sleep may break - With fever'd dream, nor rudely wake - Thy wearied eye. - - Oh, quit thy hold, - For thou art faint, and chill, and cold, - And long thy gasp and groan of pain - Have bound me pitying in thy chain, - Though angels urge me hence to soar, - Where I shall share thine ills no more. - --Yet we shall meet. To soothe thy pain, - Remember--we shall meet again. - Quell with this hope the victor's sting, - And keep it as a signet ring, - When the dire worm shall pierce thy breast, - And nought but ashes mark thy rest, - When stars shall fall, and skies grow dark, - And proud suns quench their glow-worm spark, - Keep thou that hope, to light thy gloom, - Till the last trumpet rends the tomb. - --Then shalt thou glorious rise, and fair, - Nor spot, nor stain, nor wrinkle bear, - And, I with hovering wing elate, - The bursting of thy bonds shall wait, - And breathe the welcome of the sky-- - "No more to part, no more to die, - Co-heir of immortality." - - --_Mrs. Sigourney._ - - -THE END. - - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Religious Poems, by Various - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK RELIGIOUS POEMS *** - -***** This file should be named 54526-8.txt or 54526-8.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/4/5/2/54526/ - -Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Chris Pinfield and the -Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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