F- 4 620! / Q HS3tl ^JOIYL FROM THE LIBRARY OF REV. LOUIS FITZGERALD BENSON, D. D BEQUEATHED BY HIM TO THE LIBRARY OF PRINCETON THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY Section v /V510 /{ t ••> (\~"C /- * ^ Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2013 http://archive.org/details/fanciesfOOsmit THOUGHTS AND FANCIES FOR SUNDAY EVENINGS />•)' THE AUTHOR OF "OLRIG GRANGE" "HILDA, "NORTH COUNTRY FOLK" " KILDROSTAN" & . PUBLISHED BY JAMES MACLEHOSE AND SONS, GLASGOW, $nMisIurs to ilu &mto£rsity. MACMILLAN AND CO., LONDON AND NEW YORK, London^ . . . Hamilton., Adams and Co. Cambridge, . . . Macmillan and Bowes. Edinburgh, . . . Donglas and Fonlis. MDCCCLXXXVII. / THOUGHTS AND /gS^ OF PR/Jv^, ' JAM I V NCIES FoK SUNDAY EVENINGS by yy WALTER C. SMITH, M.A. AUTHOR OF ' -Smmu tirbition ©lasgoto JAMES MACLEHOSE & SONS PUB] [887 .-/// ; T , N OTE. OFTEN asked to print a volume of sermons, I never could see my way ; never could get time to put them into shape ; never was quite sure that they were worth putting into shape. So I bethought me that the following verses might give the essence of such a volume, being, so to speak, the flower into which the sermons might have blossomed, if it had been the nature of sermons to blossom, which perhaps it is not. Old friends, I daresay, will recognise the thoughts in their new dress, and possibly they may make some new friends for themselves too. In Scotland we have no Christian year of fasts and feasts and saints' days. But we have, like other countries, our fifty-two Sundays, which would serve us well enough if they were used to better pur- pose. May I hope that these fifty-two words, which VI NOTE. have turned out partly songs, partly sermonettes, may give some help to brighten those Sunday even- ings, and perhaps even to make them a little more fruitful ? Maybe there are some who will take a sermon in this form, like a pill, who would have nothing to do with it in the regulation shape. The little book will have served its purpose if any such profit by it even a little. September, 1887. THOUGHTS AND FANCIES ' O give thanks unto the Lord ; for he is good : because his mercy endureth for ever." — Ps. cxviii. i. \ T THY should I always pray. Although I always lack ? It were a better way Some praise to render back : The earth that drinks the plenteous rain Returns the grateful cloud again. We should not get the less That we remembered more The truth and righteousness Thou keep'st for us in store : In heaven they do not pray — they sing, And they have wealth of every thing. A And it would be more meet To compass Thee with song Than to have at Thy feet Only a begging throng Who take Thy gifts, and then forget Alike Thy goodness, and their debt. So give me joyous Psalms, And Hymns of grateful praise : Instead of seeking alms, A song to Thee I'll raise : Yet still I must a beggar be, When lauding Thy great charity. But where shall I begin ? With health and daily bread ? Or cleansing of my sin ? Or light around me shed? Till I would praise, I did not see How rich Thy gifts have been to me. 11 Blessed are the pure in heart: for they shall see God." M \i r. v. 8. /AXK thing I of the Lord desire — For all my way hath miry been Be it by water or by tire, ( ) make me clean. Erewhile I strove for perfect truth, And thought it was a worthy strife; lUit now I leave that aim of youth For perfect life. If clearer vision Thou impart, Grateful and glad my soul shall be ; Hut yet to have a purer heart Is more to me. Yea, only as the heart is clean May larger vision yet be mine, For mirrored in its depths are seen The things divine. I watch to shun the miry way, And stanch the spring of guilty thought ; But, watch and wrestle as I may, Pure I am not. So wash Thou me without, within ; Or purge with fire, if that must be ; No matter how, if only sin Die out in me. "Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they toil not, neither do they spin : and yet I say unto you, That even Solomon in all hi.^ glory was not arrayed like one of these." —Matt. vi. 28, 29. T I LI ES take no care How they are to grow. How the earth and air Cause their flowers to blow ; Yet their beauty rare Makes a goodly show : Solomon in glory bright Was not half so fair a sight. May 1 therefore lie Here, and take mine ease, Trusting so to vie In growth and grace with these, And the Master's eye With holy beauty please ? Have I only just to be What the earth will make of me ? Lilies have no sin Leading them astray, No false heart within That would them bewray, Nought to tempt them in Any evil way; And if canker come and blight, Nought will ever put them right. But good and ill, I know, Are in my being blent ; And good or ill may flow From mine environment ; And yet the ill, laid low, May better the event: 7 Careless lilies, happy ye ! But careless life were death to me. I must watch and pray, I must work and war, I must shun the way Where temptations are. And mend, while yet I may, What sin is fain to mar : If the lamp I do not trim Soon it will be fouled and dim. Yet I will not mope, Yet I will not fear, But be filled with hope, And be of good cheer. Ready still to cope With the danger near : Care that broods with drooping wing I )nlv broods of care will bring. "Is not this the carpenter ? ; ' — Mark vi. 3. r I * H P_^Y sought the Cross of shame Where He bore the sinner's blame, And they battled for the sepulchre Made holy by His name; But O to chance upon Some work that He had done, The carpenter of Nazareth, The Father's only son ! Were it table, trunk, or stool Fashioned by His hand and tool, The carpenter of Nazareth Who Heaven and earth doth rule, Twere something just to view Handiwork He deigned to do ; Twould shed on all our daily tasks A glory ever new. For His work by axe and saw Would be all without a flaw, J. ike His patience upon Calvary To magnify the law ; And the humblest work ye do, Let it faithful be and true, And be not ye ashamed o( it, For it will honour you. Let the Captain of the Host His deeds of prowess boast, And Priest and Prophet claim that they Should be esteemed the most : But He took the burden great Of the worker's toil and sweat. IO And the carpenter of Nazareth Did labour consecrate. Very dear the Cross of shame Where He took the sinner's blame, And the tomb wherein the Saviour lay, Until the third day came; Yet He bore the self-same load, And He went the same high road, When the carpenter of Nazareth Made common things for God. I I The fool hath said in his heart, There is no ( rod." — Ps. x!v. i T is the fashion now for wits to he A Except some Force hehind the things we sec, Like heat or light or electricity ; And one is odd, Among these Oracles, who still believes hi any God who thinks or loves or grieves. But there's a spirit, deep in the heart's core. Of reverence, Which somehow will not bow down to adore The mightiest force in Nature ; what is more, I have a sens.' 12 Of being something greater far than those Blind makers of the world which science knows. Worship I must, but may not worship aught Which I can bind And yoke to do me service, having caught The secret of its power, with wonder fraught, But without mind ; And while I comprehend it, I must be Higher than that which comprehends not me. You do not need to worship ? Maybe so ; I judge you not. Only, they say, the dog that does not know A master, like a savage wolf will grow, Hating his lot, And is a sorry brute, until he find A mightier will than his, and nobler mind. And this would be the hapless lot of men Without God's fear ; Their home would soon be as the wild beast's den, All the fierce self resuming sway again; And we should hear But cries of wrath or hunger from the crowd, Or paeans of self-worship ringing loud. Save us from that self-worship ! Poor, indeed. Is he who knows Nothing more worthy than himself, to lead His heart to purer thought and nobler deed Than ever rose From his self-contemplation, and to rouse The soul to prayers and hymns and holy vows. 14 s> The joy of the Lord is your strength." — Nehem. viii. 10. T ARK ! hark ! the joyous lark Greets the dewy dawn of May ; Hardly has he time to mark The quivering eyelid of the day, Ere he springs, with fluttering wings, In the rapture of the sight ; Ever soaring as he sings, Till he lose himself in light. Heart, heart, how slow thou art With thy morning hymn of praise ! Ah ! can love no joy impart, Though it compass all thy ways? Why sad amid the glad Sunshine which is God's and thine? < ) the bliss that may be had, Lost in thoughts of love divine .' Why, why sit and sigh, Moping o'er thy former sin, With the gates of glory nigh Free for thee to enter in ? ( ) rejoice with heart and voice, Like the bird upon the wing; They who in the Lord rejoice Songs of Heaven to earth shall bring i6 " He shall go in and out, and find pasture.' 1 — John x. 9. H E led me out and in, And pasture still I found, For where He led me There He fed me, Although it might seem barren ground. He led me out and in, Yet in the frost and cold, With Him beside me To cheer and guide me, My peace was great as in the Fold. He led me out and in, From many a hallowed spot To buying, selling. Planting, felling, And yet my spirit fainted not. I [e led me out and in. And if to-day was glad, While to-morrow Brought its sorrow. Yet they both a blessing had. So lead me out and in : Thy guidance, Lord, is best ; If Thou chasten 'Tis to hasten My footsteps to the promised rest. And in the fold or out, It shall be well with me ( )r in sadm ( )r in gladnes If only I am still with Thee. 1; i8 ' There are diversities of gifts, but the same Spirit." i Cor. xii. 4. f~\ TO be like my Lord ! Yet must I be Mine own self too, And to the nature He bestowed on me Be frankly true. The olive fruits not as the clustering vine ; Nor may we get Scent of the rose or lily from woodbine, Or violet. The harp may not give forth the trumpet's note ; Nor shalt thou bring From pipe or tabor tones that softly float From the harp-string. 1 9 False to myself, I were Dot true to Him ; Nor should I be More angel, having wings of cherubim Attached to me. All creatures have their natural gift and form In God's great plan, And nought will give the grasshopper or worm Stamp of a man. Even as He made me, so I must be still ; Changed, yet the same, Holy in heart, and dutiful in will, And high in aim : Vet true unto the man that once in me Was | -rone to err ; For Faith works not a dull monotony Of character. 20 Earth hath not more variety than Heaven, Though every one To whom the grace of glory shall be given Be like its sun. They differ in their glory, star from star, And in their might, Yet all their shining robes of splendour are His borrowed light. 2 I "Commune with your own heart upon your bed, and be still, PS. iv. 4. P) E still, and know He doeth all things well, Working the purpose of His holy will, And if His high designs He do not tell Till He accomplish them — do thou be still. Why should'st thou strive and fret and fear and doubt, As if His way, being dark, must bode thee ill ? If thine own way be clearly pointed out, Leave Him to clear up His. and be thou still. Was ever yet thy trust in Him misplaced? And hoping in Him, did He not fulfil 22 The word on which He caused thee to rest, Though not as thou had'st thought, perchance ? Be still. What if the road be rough which might be smooth ? Is not the rough road best for thee, until Thou learn by patient walking in the truth To trust and hope in God, and to be still ? A little faith is more than clearest views ; Would'st thou have ocean like a babbling rill ? God without mystery were not good news ; Wrestle not with the darkness, but be still. Be still, and know that He is God indeed Who reigns in glory on His holy hill, Yet once upon the Cross did hang and bleed, And heard the people raging — and was still. Because ye are sons, God hath sent forth the Spirit of his S into your hearts, crying, Abba, Father." Gal. iv. 6. V BBA, Father! O to think that I, Not in my pride of mind and vanity. But by Thy Spirit unto Thee may cry, Abba, Father ! Too well I know. Lord, that I am not meet To get a child's place even beside Thy feet, Vet dost Thou hold me close to Thy heart's beat, Abba, Father ! () help me, while I am a pilgrim here, Childlike to walk in meekness, love, and fear, For this too is Thy house, and Thou art near. Abba, bather ! 24 'Tis not in me to guide my ways aright, Tis not in me to quell the Tempter's might. But Thou wilt me uphold, and give me light. Abba, Father ! Thou hast redeemed me ; living, I am Thine And dying, also, Thou art ever mine ; Nothing shall part me from Thy love divine, Abba, Father. Made one with Jesus, who is one with Thee The love that rests on Him abides with me, And O the wonder and the mystery ! Abba, Father. Redeeming the time, because the days arc evil." Ephi s. v. 16. S~^\ BARREN fruitless years, Lean wastes of desert sand — ( 'otild I but water you with tears, And make you fruitful land ! ( ) years that yet must reap A crop of sinful deeds — Would I might pile them in a heap, And burn those noxious weeds ! ( ) years of grief and pain That brought me dull despair- Might I your wine-press tread again. And get the blessing there ! 26 O mingled thread of days, What have I made of you ? What garment have I wrought of praise ? W r hat robe of honour due ? No help have ye in store, For healing of the mind — But will it mend the road before To grieve for that behind ? Though I must bear the blame Of time misspent and ill, Let me not clothe myself with shame By what remaineth still. The spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak. Matt. xxvi. 41. /^vI'T. Lord, I weary in Thy work. But of Thy work I do not tire. Although I toil from dawn till dark. From matins of the early lark. Until his even-song expire. Ah ! who that tends the altar fire, Or ministers the incense due. Or sings Thy praises in the choir, Or publishes good news, could tire that he loves so well to do ? Sweet is the recomi ense it brines — The work that with good-will is done 28 For all the heart with gladness sings, And all the fleeting hoars have wings, And all the day is full of sun. And if he labour not in vain, If souls are by his message stirred, If he can comfort grief and pain, Or bring repentant tears like rain By force of his entreating word, The hand may weary of its task, And weary he may drag his feet, The weary frame may long to bask In needful rest ; but do not ask The heart to weary of its beat. 29 •• I ) send out thy Light and thy truth." Ps. xliii. 3. O LIGHT, more Light to shine upon my way Light from the source of the eternal day '. () light, more light, but not the light that fills The heart with pride, and faith and feeling kills () light, more light, for clouds are gathering rife- Light and more light, but still the light of life ! Light and more light upon my Cross, and Hi> Whose dying was the life of men, and is ! () light, more light, to shine upon the grave, That I may lace its terrors — calm and brave ! Lo ! the light cometh that shall never cease ; Soon shall the veil be lifted ; be at peace ! Light and more light shines on the eternal shore, Light of the life that dieth nevermore ! *• Fight the -nod fight of faith."— i Tim. vi. 12. r I "'HERE where the hosts of darkness lie. And the brave battle rages high, Give me my post to live or die With fearless heart. Thou, Lord, alone may'st plan the fight. Alone array the battle right. Mine but to do with all my might My little part. It may be just to watch and wait, Like sentinel to keep the gate, And so outwit the cunning sleight ( )f crafty foe : Or it may be, 'mid dust and smoke, To ply the sword with thrust and stroke Until the bands of sin are broke, Or lying low. Perchance 'twill be a humbler post, Only to serve Thy chosen host Who fight the battle, never lost, In strength divine ; And sword or spear I may not wield, But travel o'er the stricken field, And comfort to the wounded yield Who thirst or pine. Not mine to choose my work or fate, Whether to die with hope elate, Or live the triumph to relate In after years. 33 Enough to battle in Thy name, For truth and right, but not for fame, And ne'er Thy hoi}- cause ashame By coward fears. And if it be my lot to fall Unnoticed and unknown of all, Named only in the great roll-call, So let it be : (live me my weapon and my task — Tumbrel, or sword, or waterflask, To know my post is all I ask. And to serve Thee. 34 "Ye are the light of the world."— Matt. v. 14. IGHT the lamp that burnetii cheery When the nights are dark and long, And the storm without is eerie And the household gathers near ye For work and tale and song : In the world are sin and sadness, Bringing misery and madness ; Light your home with Christian gladness. Light the lamps through all the city, Twinkling in the crowded street. Where the foolish and the witty, And the wretched seeking pity. 6D And rogues and righteous meet; Keep your lights there clearly shining, Truth and right anal love combining, All the common highways lining. Light the lamp, oh ! keep it blazing, Where the storm is raging high, And the shipwrecked soul is gazing To the clouds that are erasing All star-guides in the sky, Through the tempest and the terror. And the darkness and the horror, Mash the glory from thy mirror. Were our lights thus shining rightly In the home and in the street Through the gloom that cometh nightly. And our beacons gleaming brightly 36 Where perilous breakers beat. Little then should men be needing All our arguing and pleading, With that life-light Godward leading. M Looking unto Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith, 1 1 EB. \ii. 2. T OOKING unto Jesus, Healing I shall find For the broken spirit, And the bruised mind — Vet I ga/.e on daily, Till my eyes grow dim, Looking unto any Rather than to Him ! I .< joking unto Jesus, I shall learn the road That the soul must travel ( roing home to ( rod 38 Yet I lag and linger, Till I scarce can see My guide and sweet companion Beckoning to me ! Looking unto Jesus, I behold the heights Gleaming in the glory Of Love's undying lights- Yet my heart unmoved Cares not to aspire, Nor for all their splendour Would be any higher ! What is it that ails me? Why am I so dead That looking unto Jesus Lifts not up my head ? 39 And my heart so wanders, Caring not to see Him, its fount oi gladness? Jesus, look on me. 4o Wherefore is there a price in the hand of a fool to get wisdom, seeing he hath no heart to it ? " — Prov. xvii. 16. \ H ! you bring money in your hand, Fain to buy wisdom ? You are clear There's nothing gold will not command ; It answereth to all things here ; And you wish wisdom, as is fit, And will not grudge the cost of it. For you are rich, and you have store Of guineas, dollars, and rupees, And bonds and shares that yield you more Than you can squander well with ease. — God help you, man ! You could not buy An ounce of wisdom with them. Try. 4' Lo ! here arc books where men have found Of wisdom many a precious gem ; And you may have them, gilt and bound, But not the wisdom wrapt in them. Yet buy them, fool : so men have got Credit for wisdom they had not. And likely that is all you want — The credit, not the thing itself. Then hold your peace, and do not vaunt. And you may purchase with your pelf, If you have wit your tongue to rule, A name for wisdom, though a fool. There ! go your way, and with your gold, Buy food and raiment, house and land; The best things are not bought and sold. There is no price that will command Wisdom, or peace, or love, or health ; And you are poor with all your wealth. 42 All things work together for good to them that love God.'' Rom. viii. 28. T EARN, O my soul, to use Experience thou hast got. Nor any thread to lose God wove into thy lot, Nor yet to pick and choose What pleaseth thee or not. He leads thee by His way, That thou may'st truly learn ; Gives thee thy work each day. Thy daily wage to earn ; It is not idle play, But matter of concern. 43 . The error of thy thought Had yet sonic truth to teach ; The sorrow of thy lot Some wisdom had to preach : That could not else be brought So well within thy reach. There's Light wrapt in the cloud, And heat in frosts and snows. A voice that speaketh loud Where silence awful grows, And life that doth enshroud Itself in death's repose. Xo lesson, then, refuse, Which love to thee hath riven ; If here it find no use Thou'lt find it yet in heaven ; God's teaching does not lose, 1 lid in the heart like leaven. 44 Of making many books there is no end." — Eccl. xii. 12. /^\NE writ a plea for Faith, and put His thoughts into a printed book ; I read it that I might confute My doubts, and all my faith it shook. Another and another still I tried, and all the more I read The less I could believe, until A mist of darkness wrapt my head. They dried up all my Jacob's wells ; They broke the faithful shepherd's rod ; They blurred the gracious miracles Which are the signature of God. 45 And hour by hour, and day by day My heart grew colder than before, And for one doubt they took away They left suggestion of a score. In trouble, then, and fear I sought The Man who taught in Galilee, And peace unto my soul was brought. And all my faith came back to me. They held a taper flickering dim To show me that the sun did shine I looked to it, and not to Him, And doubted of the love divine. Hut when 1 saw Him in the bright Unclouded glory of His Word. It needed but I lis own pure light To make me know Him for mv Lord. 46 O times of weak and dying Faith That labour pleas in His defence, Ye only dim Him with your breath : He is His own best evidence. 47 It is good that a man should both hope and quietly wait for the salvation of the Lord/' — Lam. iii. 26. ^OMETIMES my heart with hope is filled Full as the summer day with sun, And eagerly my glebe is tilled, And strenuous work is done ; Only 1 fret at all delay, And fain would haste the expected day ( )f fruit, which seemeth far away, And patience 1 have none. Sometimes with patience slow I plod Through the long hours from mom till night. Complaining not of man or God, Vet feeling no delight ; — 48 A sodden spirit, bound to cope With daily toil I may not drop. But without any heart or hope, Or any joy or might. Ah ! hope that hath no patient force Works in the end but stir and fret, And hopeless patience runs a course Of deadness and regret ; O for a Spirit, strong and free, Fount of a larger life in me, That waits and works and hopes to see The great Salvation yet. 49 ' Ye >hall leave me alone : and yet I am not alone, because th( Father is with me." - John xvi. 32. A LONE, to face the Powers of darkness here. Forsaken of the friends He held so dear ; Yet never less alone, for God was near ! So in the waste, dim wilderness at first His work began, with hunger faint and thirst, And the fell Tempter fain to do his worst. Lonely H;^ sun rose, lonely too it set. But round it trailing clouds of glory met. For God was with Him, and His peace was great. N >t in the forest grows the noblest tree ; All highest life a solitude must be, Apart, with only God for company. i) 5° But when forsaken we are haply thrown Upon the Father's loving care alone, And left to lean against the eternal throne, How should we fear if He be at our side? Or falter if His face He do not hide ? Or feel alone if He with us abide ? N<> chastening for the present seemeth to be joyous, but grievous : nevertheless afterward it yieldeth the peaceable fruit of righteousness unto them which arc exercised therel v.'* Ih-.r.. \ii. II. [3 RIGHT and glad the time has been When Thou gavest me repose. Lying on the pastures green Where the quiet water flows. While the song-birds filled the air. And the voice of pain was mute. And the bloom was passing fair : But it yielded little fruit. Dark and sad the hours have been In the valley and shade of Death. Where no light mine eyes have seen But the far, col 1 stars of Faith, And my heart with haunting fears Almost sank into despair ; Yet the harvest of my years Mostly has been gathered there. Xot where pleasures spring up rife Do our richest fruits abound : But where sorrow of our life Watered with its tears the ground. There we learn to look above For our happiness and peace, Learn the comfort of Thy love. And in love to find increase. SJ Where qo oxen arc, the crib is clean : but much increase is by the strength of the ox." Prov. xiv. 4. \ T fERE there no oxen feeding in the stall, The crib were clean : But without oxen harvest would be small. Housekeeping lean : Wherefore we may not be too prim and nice : There is no good that doth not cost a price. Were there no children in the house, it were Dainty and trim ; But without children, lo ! the hearth were bare And < old and dim : Better their laughter than a chamber neat. For only in their mirth is home complete. 54 Were there no thinking, there would be no doubt To vex the heart ; But life were brutish if it were without Its thinking part : And to be godlike we must risk the chance Of doubting much that Faith believed once. Were there no stir among the dry bones, then Were there much peace ; But if the Spirit move not, Death's dull reign Would never cease ; Better fanatic follies than to lie Cold and unmoved in starched propriety. Something, I reckon, we have still to give In sacrifice That we may richly grow, and greatly live ; And 'tis a vice To grudge what makes our being large and full For the small order of a frigid rule. 55 'Though he slay me, yet will I trust in him." -Job xiii. 15. JESUS, in the deep, dark night, Send Thy light to guide my way : Thou canst give the blind their sight, Thou canst turn the night to day : Vet if dark my path must be, Let me still hold fast to Thee. Jesus, in the hour of grief, Send the Comforter to cheer ; He can give the heart relief, 1 [e can wipe away the tear : Yet if sorrow be my lot. Let me be still and murmur not. 56 Jesus, in the war of life Be Thou ever near to save ; Thou canst shield from perils rife, Thou canst pluck me from the grave. Yet if I am doomed to death, Mine be still the fight of Faith. Am I abject thus to lie At His mercy? surely no : Did He not in mercy die, Death for me to overthrow? And can I doubt the love which He Witnessed on His cross for me? 'Tis the sun that brings the cloud. Shadows of the light are born ; Let the clouds and shadows shroud Life to me in grief forlorn, Still I know 'twas love that wrought All the sorrow of my lot. \Vhats< ever a man soweth, that shall he also Gal. \ i. 7. T F all that now I sow- Must yet to harvest grow. 'Twill make a sorry show At reaping time : For maii_\' a poison weed Is ripening evil seed ; And what will be to lead, From youth or prime ? I.o! thistles ltow ing rank. And stinging nettles lank. And stony places blank. And many a thorn 58 The good seed here doth choke. That once did hope evoke, Or blight and mildew mock With stunted corn. Ah ! woful sight to see, Such careless husbandry, Whose only fruit must be Great sheaves of sin ! And now the closing year Hath brought the reapers near, Who whet the sickles clear To thrust them in. O is there no true thought May be to ripe fruit brought Of action without spot, Which God will own ? 59 Yea. one hope still have I [ere at Thy feet to lie, And for Thy mercy cry, And that alone. 6o ' Beware ye of the leaven of the Pharisees, which is hypocrisy. "--Luke xii. i. \ T WHATSOE'ER I be or do, Let me honest be and true Never wear a false pretence, Never speak with double sense, Claim a grace I have not got, Or look the thing that I am not. Am I common ciay at best ? Be the common clay confessed ; If for something better fit, Let me roundly stand to it ; Saint or sinner, why should I Ever be a paltry lie ? 6 1 ( lopper cheaply bought and sold. Pass it not for burnished gold ; Nor let him that doeth well. Call himself a child of Hell, As if falsehoods should be given In tribute to the Cod of Heaven. I knee with oily phrase and smooth True men know the ring of truth : Think not Cod can be deceived, lie is only wroth and grieved : Play not Publican to be So much more a Pharisee. 02 The Son of man came not to be ministered unto, but to minister." — Mark x. 45. OT to be served, O Lord, but to serve man N All that I can, , v^ o-jv^iVA, And as I minister unto his need, Serve Thee indeed : So runs the law of Love that hath been given To make earth Heaven. What, if the task appointed me be mean ? Wert Thou not seen To gird Thee with the towel, as was meet, To wash the feet Of Thy disciples, whom Thou would'st befriend Unto the end ? 63 For meanest work becomes the noblest part, When a great heart, Pitiful, stoops to comfort our distress, ( )r to impress A sealing kiss on penitence fresh clad In raiment sad. And if the wanderer's feet be soiled and sore. So much the more He needs a tender hand to cleanse and heal, And make him feel There is no task that love will shrink to do Life to renew. 64 "Therefore leaving the principles of the doctrine of Christ, let us go on unto perfection ; not laying again the foundation of repentance from dead works, and of faith toward God, of the doctrine of baptisms, and of laying on of hands, and of resurrec- tion of the dead, and of eternal judgment." — Heb. vi. i, 2. T AYING the foundations O'er and o'er again !— Calling sinners to repent, And believe that Christ was sent To die for love of men ; Laying the foundations Over many lands ! — Baptism for the child of grace, Orders for the priestly race By touch of holy hands ; 65 Laying the foundations: — ( !hrist the corner stone, Resurrection from the dust. And a judgment stern and just And a great white throne ; Laving the foundations Of the Church unseen, And the Church which men behold. And the Church that shall enfold All who saved have been ! Good are the foundations, But thou shah do well To build thereon, by truth and right A spacious mansion of delight Where thy soul may dwell. E 66 More than mere foundations Is the house we need; Lay them well, and leave them there, Souls are wishing room and air For varied thought and deed. Yet we lay foundations O'er and o'er again, Making the grand Gospel stale By our telling of the tale To the sons of men. Tis not a stale old story, Ancient though it be, But a song for ever new, Fresh as is the morning dew. Or the moving sea. 67 On, then, to perfection. Truth is infinite ; Be not babes with milk content, Take the Strong meat that is meant For the man of might. Lav no more foundations, Seek the higher faith, And a larger life to know, For the soul that does not grow Is not far from death. 68 6 ' Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do, do it with thy might. " Eccl. ix. 10. \ \ TORK on, while it is called to-day ; This is no time to rest or play, Gird up your loins, and haste away To sow or reap : Take to your tools, the sun is high, The dew upon the grass is dry, The busy bee is humming by, And would you sleep ? Get you the sickle, rake, or hoe, Or bring the seed-bag forth, and throw The handfuls broadcast as you go With steady pace ; 6 9 Each season has its task to do, But there may conic at once to you The sowing and the reaping too Of truth and iira.ee. Forth to your labour in the land, Ready whatever comes to hand, To do it at your Lord's command, And do it well ; To break the stony heart within, Or harvest souls redeemed from sin, ( )r let the light of life break in Where sorrows dwell. Wait not for bit to curb your pride. Nor yet for spur your sloth to hide, But watch His eye, and make your guide The -lance 1 le gives. 7 o Lo ! in His work a blessing lies, And, doing it, ye shall grow wise ; And he whose own will daily dies For ever lives. 7i "Surely I come quickly. Even so, come, Lord Jesus. " Rev. xxii. 20. T HAVE heard a cry of wailing Running through the troubled years, As of expectation failing, As of sorrow unavailing. As of rising doubts and fears. For the Church is weary, waiting 'Mid the world's unceasing hum, And its scorning and its hating, And its fury unabating ; And the Lord is slow to come. Ah ! the thoughtlessness of sorrow ! Well for us He came not soon. 72 Well He cometh not to-morrow, Well He lets us wait, and borrow Light of many a waning moon. True, the Church is sighing, weeping : But her work, how is it done? Is she well His vineyard keeping? What of harvest is she reaping? Has the world for Him been won? And the Virgins, are they waking? Are the Talents growing more? Or the Servants merry-making, And of drunken feast partaking, While He lingers near the door? Was there ever in her story Any hour of golden fame 'Mong the ages, young or hoary, When His coming back in glory Would not cover her with shame ? Yea, and were He now appearing With His angels in the cloud, Dare we meet Him without fearing, While the trumpet in our hearing Solemn soundeth long and loud? Yet 1 hear the voice of wailing Still above the busy hum. As of expectation failing. As of sorrow unavailing — Ah ! the Lord is slow to come ! 74 What shall I render unto the Lord for all his benefits toward me ?" — Ps. cxvi. 12. TT7 HAT shall I do for all the grace and truth That I have known E'er since the error of a wayward youth Led me, alone, Forth on a way, alas ! that was not good, Through bog and quagmire and bewildering wood, Where I did seek for bread, and found not food, Only a stone ? Yet mercy compassed me, and left me not To that scant diet in the desert got. What shall I do to make up for the loss Of those dark days, When I had turned from Thy redeeming Cross To vain, proud ways 75 That made my life a barren land of drought. Wet by no dews, though wrapt in mists of doubt Which left no warmth within, nor light without. Nor prayer nor praise? Vet goodness followed me, and love divine, And still Thy Spirit pleaded, Lord, with mine. O I can nothing do, but only give Myself to Thee, Now to be Thine, whether I die or live : And give Thou me An heart to love Thee, and Thy will to do, And strength to walk before Thee meek and true, And the great Faith that maketh all things new ; And let me be True to the consecration and the vow, Sealed with the sacred baptism on mv brow. 7 6 "All my springs are in thee." — Ps. lxxxvii. 7. A LL the springs of God are found Here within this hallowed ground. Founts to quench the thirst within, Or to cleanse the soul from sin, Streams of healing to restore Hearts that have been wounded sore, Living water making glad All the weary and the sad. Whatsoe'er our ailments are, We have not to travel far To supply the need of each — Here to get the dumb their speech, 77 There restore the blind their sight, Or the palsied hand its might ; For all springs of God are lure That His glory may appear. It hath pleased the Father so To all fulness we should grow, Where His fulness doth abide In the Christ, the crucified — Fulness of our life and health, Peace and hope and joy and wealth. That they who on His name do call May find in Him their all in all. 78 'Charity vaunteth not itself." — I Cor. xiii. 4. T F I had got the cup, Which some have had to drain, Unto the brim filled up With pleasure or with pain, I might have done as badly As they who did the worst ; I might have plunged as madly Into ruin from the first. Who knows himself, and yet Will say he could not be Entangled in the net Of opportunity ? 79 Or that the storm, assailing The virtue he achieves, Would smite it unavailing, And only rob the leaves? The ill that one has wrought Is mostly what is known, But not the fight he fought. ( )r grief he may have shown. And none are evil wholly. Or evil all at once ; Lord, keep me meek and lowly I wot not what mav chance. 8o " I go a fishing." — John xxi. 3. T E had not gone to ply the net Upon the lake of Galilee, But he went to Gennesaret The risen Lord to see. And as the weary hours crept by Where once such blissful days he had, His soul with haunting memory And misery was mad. It all came back — the happy past, How Jesus once had named him Rock, And then the end of all at last, The maid and crowing cock. 8i How could he meet the Master's sight, Whom he with curses did deny ? Vet if he met Him not that night, Twerc better he should die. Then swiftly striding to the shore He leapt into the swaying boat, To haul a net, or ply an oar. And rid him of his thought. breaking heart ! that sought in toil The shame and anguish to forget. Thy Lord was seeking thee meanwhile To ply thee with His net. And in our failure and despair, When hardly we dare think or feel, Lo ! He is looking for us th< Our aching wounds to heal. i 82 "When I consider thy heavens, the work of thy fingers, the moon and the stars, which thou hast ordained ; what is man, that thou art mindful of him ? and the son of man, that thou visitest him?" — Ps. viii. 3, 4. T T J HAT am I that there should be Thought or care in heaven for me, That the Father's heart should long To turn my sorrow into song, Or that Christ should die to win Such a soul as mine from sin ? What am I ? A pigmy form, Feeble as a poor earth-worm ; Fain to make a little stir Like the chirping grasshopper : How should He that ruleth all Care for anything so small ? *3 Docs He measure, then, by size, Not as we are good or wise ? Is the senseless lump of earth More to Him than manly worth? ( )r the raging of the sea More than reasoned thought in me . J Nay, such measurement were mean : He is great whose soul is clean ; He is mighty who has Mind Nature's Force to loose and bind ; He is worth the saving cross, Whose death were an eternal loss. 8 4 " Quit you like men : be strong." — I Cor. xvi. 13. f^ IRD your loins about with truth ; Life will not go always smooth, Singing lightsome songs of youth : Play the man ! Learn with justice to keep pace, Spurning what is vile and base, And bravely ever set your face To play the man. Fear not what the world may say, Hold the straight and narrow way, In the open light of day, And play the man. «5 They will call you poor and weak, Being merciful and meek : Heed them not : so you must seek To play the man. It needeth courage to be true, And stedfastly the right to do, Loving him that wrongeth you — Play the man ! Trust in God, and let them mock \ They will break, as they have broke, Like the waves upon the rock — Play the man ! 86 " This do in remembrance of me." — Luke xxii. 19. T T 7 HEN I forget Thee, like a sun-parched land Which neither rain nor dew from heaven hath wet, So my soul withers, and I understand Wherefore Thou gavest me this high command Not to forget. When I forget the death which is my life, How weak I am ! how full of fear and fret ! How my heart wavers in a constant strife With mists and clouds that gather round me rife, When I forget ! 87 Ah, how can I forget? And yet my heart By dull oblivious thought is hard beset, Bred in the street, the meadow, or the mart : Yet Thou my strength and life and glory art, Though I forget. I will remember all Thy Love divine ; O meet Thou with me where Thy saints are met. Revive me with the holy bread and wine, And may my love, O God, lay hold on Thine, Xe'er to forget. And not to-day alone, but evermore O let me feel the burden of the debt — The load of sorrow that the Master bore, The load of goodness that He keeps in store, And not forget ! 88 1 A new commandment I give unto you, That ye love one another, as I have loved you." — John xiii. 34. T) IND on me, Lord, the new law given To bind and blend the earth with heaven, And O that I may love Thee, even As Thou hast loved me ! They serve Thee best who love Thee most, They love Thee best who serve the host Of weak and erring ones and lost, For so Thou lovedst me. If they reject me and despise, If I am hateful in their eyes, Let me with kindness them surprise, For so Thou lovedst me. 8 9 If they be worthless, so was I ; And yet for me did Jesus die ; () let me not the cross deny Which proved Thy love to me. And to the Mind it will be sight, And to the weak it will be might, The love that bringeth health and light. As Thine, Lord, did to me. "Oat of the depths have I cried unto thee, O Lord." Ps. cxxx. I. /^\ HEART, my heart, that burdened art and breaking With sharp remorse For faithlessness and failure, and forsaking Of the right course ! Heart, O my heart, In sorry plight thou art. O heart, my heart, that hardly dares remember Thy guilty past, Or look into full many a secret chamber Thou had'st locked fast ! Yet heart, my heart, They were but closed in part. 9 1 (> heart, my heart, thy sin might be forgotten. But could not hide ; He knoweth what is sound, and what is rotten With lust or pride. Heart, O my heart, Yet it will sting and smart. () (iod. my God, wilt Thou forgive a sinner Such deep offence, So near his end, and yet but a beginner In penitence ? God, O my God, Send healing with Thy rod. 9 2 " Freely ye have received, freely give." — Matt. x. 8. 1 ORD, there is nothing I can give Which Thou hast not ; For all from Thee I did receive, Which I have got ; And even the very life I live Thou did'st allot : How could I grudge to give Thee back The overflow I do not lack ? Thine are the silver and the gold, The treasure Thine ; They are a trust for Thee I hold, They are not mine ; 93 And () if they might help to mould The life divine ! What higher honour could they meet Than to inlay the Mercy-seat? There is no price for what is best, It is not bought : Who would in heavenly things invest Gets them for nought, And debtor unto Thee must rest, Or have them not ; But though Thy mercies be not sold, Yet we may serve them with our gold. So let us bring it to the Lord, For it is His : And that corrupteth which we hoard. 94 Truly, and well, and safely stored, When it can bless The sick, and poor, and weak oppressed, And bring unto the weary rest. ( )? ' I have glorified thee on the earth : and now, Father glorify thou me. "—John wii. 4, 5. T T E spake without one shade of guilt or blame To touch His heart with penitence or shame ; •• My Father, I have glorified Thy name, Now glorify Thou Me." No lips but His a word like that might dare, So meek and bold, so free from doubt and care ; God spake to God, and vet He spake in prayer. As none might pray but He. Ah ! well for us that He could justly plead In this high -train, and claim as rightful meed The glory due to perfect word and deed, And tried, yet sinless thought : 9 6 For in His friends He would be paid His debt, And on their heads He would this glory set ; But for Himself, it was a nobler yet — A crown of thorns — He sought. We look back from the verge of life, and see Error and failure, sin and misery • And we can only cry, ah ! woe is me! Be merciful, O God ! But now we dare pray, glorify Thy Son, Crown the meek Victor who the fight hath won, There are a thousand crowned in crowning One Who bore our heavy load. 97 Not the hearers of the law arc just before God, but the doer.* of the law shall be justified." -Rom. ii. 13. f A WE boast us of our law, ( ilory in our gospel light, Pity those who cannot draw Fresh the living water bright ; We are favoured, we are blest, We have heard the joyful sound. We are sons of God confessed, We are free who once were bound Bless the Lord who unto u * Is in mercy plenteous. Ah ! but what if we are still Walking on in sinful ways, G 9 8 Keeping a rebellious will, Lusting for the world's poor praise ? What, if we are growing old, None the wiser for the rod ? What if we have faith in gold, Not in either man, or God ? Shall we praise the Lord that we Have nor faith nor charity ? Not the hearer of the word. But the doer, he is just. He who, knowing not the Lord. Keepeth yet his soul from rust, He who doeth what is right. Bravely stands by what is true, Faithful to his inner light, Dark although it seem to you— He is nearer God than they Who know truth and disobey. 99 Cleanse thou me from secret fault-.*" — Ps. xix. 12. A I me ! the secret sin That lurks and works within The fair, false heart which gives it willing room, How sure it bringeth blight, Like nipping frost by night That withers all spring's beauty and its bloom 1 ( ) hidden, cherished lust, hike a small speck of rust ( )n the sheathed sword — known but to God and me What if the weapon good Unto the sheath be glued On battle day, and I am shamed by thee? 1 IOO Or what, if in my soul, As smoke of smouldering coal, Touched with a flame, begins to burn and blaze, So may this hid desire Break out in raging fire, And make of me a scorn for mocking gaze ? O cleanse it from my heart, And let me play my part To put away what Thou would'st take away ; Leave not the sharp-toothed moth That is devouring both The garment and the soul it doth array. I OI " Truly, if they had been mindful of that country from \\ hem e they came out, they might have had opportunity to have returned. But now they desire a better country, that is, an heavenly : wherefore God is not ashamed to be called their God." Ilf-.r.. \i. 15. 16. \| OT one regretful look behind Lord, would I cast, Nor hanker with a faithless mind For the dead Past : Who would recall the troubled night When joying in the morning light ? Not back again, not back again To that old road So haunted by the tear of men, \ fear of God — The hungry wilderness of self. Whose love was but the love of pelf I 102 Forward, my way lies forward still, To get release From sinful stain, and wayward will, And find the peace Where flesh with spirit shall agree, And God shall not be shamed in me. My work is here, but not my rest, And not my home, And not the wealth I would invest For life to come ; I have my treasures hid above, And usury of faith and love. And if to-night mine inn be good, I shall be glad ; But if to-morrow's fare be rude, And lodging bad, It shall be so much easier then To strike my tent, and on again. IO But never backward may I look. ( )r feel regret That I the way of sin forsook. And heavenward set My face to find the life in God. And comfort of His staff and rod, 104 "If ye then be risen with Christ, seek those things which are above, where Christ sitteth on the right hand of God." — Col. iii. i. T T IGHER still, and higher ! O to leave the clouds below, And the creeping mists that throw Doubt on all the way we go As we would aspire Higher still, and higher ! Higher still, and higher ! Ah ! how little way I make, Plunging where the black bogs quake, Slowly hewing through the brake Tanded with old briar !— o Higher still, and higher ! [os I [igher still, and higher ! Courage ! look not down to see How high thy footing now may be, Upward set thy face where He Calls thee to come nigher, Higher still, and higher. Higher still, and higher ! Lo ! the sun is sinking fast. And lengthening shades are round thee east, Let not thy heart fail at the last ; i no time to tire — 1 [igher still, and higher ! 1 Ii_, r her still, and higher ! Sweet the air is, pure and clear. And thy Lord is ever near Yonder where the songs I hear And the golden lyre I [igher still, and higher. io6 Higher still, and higher ! What, if Death be standing right In thy way, and dreadful night ? All beyond is life and light, And thy soul's desire — Higher still, and higher ! IO' How amiable arc thy tabernacles, () Lord of host-. PS. lx.wiv. i. THXEAR to me the Church of Christ, Sweet the memories lingering there, Sweet the place of solemn tryst, Sweet the place of prayer, Where the glory ever pours Through the everlasting doors. Solace of the spirit vexed, Refuge of the contrite heart. Helper of the mind perplexed Evermore thou art : () that I might always dwell Where I hear thv Sabbath bell ! io8 There they brought me when a child For the cleansing of the Lord ; There I came with garment soiled Of mine own accord, Broken in my pride of strength, Weary of the world at length. Not the tinted lights that shine Softly through the pictured pane, But the light of love divine Flooding all thy fane, That is what entrances me Hushed in blessed mystery. Not the word the Preacher speaks Pleading in his Master's name, But the still small voice that seeks Wayward hearts to tame, That is what I love to hear, Then I know that God is near. 109 " Her house is the way to hell, going down to the chambers ol death."— Pro v. vii. 27. T AST thou wandered far, my child ? Whither dici'st thou go, That thy feet are so defiled, And thy pace so slow? Hast thou been among the wild Mountains and the snow ? Mountain steep and snows were sweet For me to tread again, For I've been on the stony street. Among the haunts of men : 1 letter to have put my feet Within the lion's den. no In the haunts of men are found Kind and loving hearts, Wisdom springing from the ground, All entrancing arts, Homes that do with peace abound, Songs in many parts. Nay, but beauty at the door Called me to come in Where the vine-blood stained the floor, And the song was sin, And another victim more Perished so within. But thou hast returned at last, Sad and penitent ; Snaky arms hast from thee cast, All their power is spent : 'Twas an evil dream, the Past ; Wake up innocent. Ah ! the Past still cleaves to me With a leprous force — Tainted thoughts that will not be Cleansed OUt by remorse ; And the goodness that I see M ikes the anguish worse : And my heart is ill to touch. Trodden hard by vice, For the wage of sin is such 1 >eath as happens twice — Death of truth and love, and much Held of highest price. I 12 • ; Thy kingdom come/'— Matt. vi. 10. 'HP % HY Kingdom come — the reign of truth and right, Where lies, amazed at the searching light, Creep back into the darkness out of sight : Thy Kingdom come. Thy Kingdom come, when Thou shalt reign alone, With all the graven gods of stock or stone, Like broken potsherds strewn around Thy throne : Thy Kingdom come. Thy Kingdom come, when wrath and war shall cease, And swords be reaping hooks for tasks of peace, And love shall rule, and wisdom shall increase : Thy Kingdom come. "3 Thy Kingdom come, when all shall do Thy will, And gladly haste Thy purpose to fulfil, And faith take meekly all life's good and ill : Thy Kingdom come. Thy Kingdom come, where peace and pity meet, And let Thy folk who know Thy mercy-seat Like pity show to those who them entreat : Thy Kingdom come. Thy Kingdom come, Lord, in this heart of mine, Set there Thy throne, and reign in right divine, And make me wholly true, and wholly Thine : Thy Kingdom come. ii ii 4 "Willing rather to be absent from the body, and to be present with the Lord."— 2 Cor. v. 8. T T 7 ACTING for the day to dawn, Peering through the darkness far, Here and there a cloud withdrawn, Here and there a star. Dark and silent is the hour, Not a whispering wind is heard, Not an insect in a flower, Not a twittering bird. Long the night has been and slow, Spite of good, remembered words, And my heart is faint and low With the loosening cords. 1 '5 Who is with me? Only Thou, Thou, my never-failing Friend : Lay Thy hand upon my brow. Hold it to the end. Lo ! is that a gleam of morn Touching yonder trailing cloud, White and ghostly and forlorn. Pallid as a shroud ? Yet within that cloud there lie All the glories of the day — Light, and life, and song; and I Long for them and pray. So 1 wait with failing strength, Give me, Lord, the grace I need, That I yet may die at length Into life indeed. n6 " My Father worketh hitherto, and I work." — John v. 17. T) ID me not look in heaven for only rest, Well-earned because the battle has been won. My fight has been a poor one at the best, And now I trust to have it better done Where never sets the sun. What need of rest, except to be refreshed For further work, and carry on our task, No more with sin enfeebled and enmeshed ? Eternal idleness I do not ask, Nor in such bliss could bask. So many failures I have made on earth, So many hours have wasted of my day, • '7 So little gained of true abiding worth, So oft have erred, and gone so far astray From the one Living Way ! O to redeem the time that I have lost, To right whatever wrong I may have done, To publish peace unto the tempest-tossed, To bring back hope to some despairing one, Until there shall be none ! Who knows? The Father worketh hitherto, And Christ, whom I would serve with love and fear, Went not away to rest Him, but to do What could be better done in heaven than here, And bring to all good cheer. And I would work with Him whose mercy lasts For ever, and His love is everywhere, Who preached to spirits in prison, and daily casts His nets where souls are sinking in despair : My heaven were with Him there. n8 Perchance, in that new life we shall be born Children at first, and have to slowly grow, And its unfathomable wonders learn, Like children, singing gladly as we go Where living waters flow. Yet must we come to manhood's better hour, And have our work appointed us to do, And do it with more heart, and hope, and power, And fresh as with eternal morning dew That doth our life renew. At any rate, to sit with folded palms On listless thrones, with crowns of shining gold, Or touch the harp unto the voice of psalms, With hearts that are to sinners hard and cold, Is not the hope I hold. iig u If it were not so, I would have told you." — John xiv. 2. f~\ ARE they near to us or far away ? And know they how our eyes grow dim with tears ? And can they hear what breaking hearts here say, Our dead who sleep through all the waiting years ? Not vain the task to sweep the ocean's floor, Or sift the slag and cinders of the moon, Tell what the sun for fuel has in store, Or when eclipse shall darken it at noon : But dream not thou the great sealed stone to roll From the grave's mouth, and to light up its gloom, Or to unwrap the cerements of the soul, And search the close-kept secret of the tomb. ] 20 They may be far away — I cannot tell — And nothing of my grief can hear or see ; They may be near me, hold en by a spell Which, hard on them, will yield no help to me. But near or far, the spirit is ensphered Alone and silent, till it find again A body, and appear as it appeared When its haunts were among the sons of men. Yet Thou that art the Lord of death and life, Wilt Thou not clothe them with familiar frames, That we may know beloved friend or wife, And clasp their hands, and call them by their names ? Changed as Thou w r ert, Thy friends discovered Thee By the nail-prints and by the wounded side ; And Thou wilt leave some mark on us that we Amid the glory may be verified. 121 Thou would'st have told us had it not been so, Thou wilt not let us yearn for some dear face, ( )r voice remembered fondly long ago, To make Thy heaven to us a lonely place. O rich in hope the things which Thou hast told, Rich too the hope of what Thou hast concealed And having faith in Thee, Lord, I would hold The hope unspoken as the hope revealed. 122 " I exhort therefore, that, first of all, prayers be made for all men." — i Timothy ii. i. /^v'ER land and sea love follows with fond prayers Its dear ones in their troubles, griefs, and cares ; There is no spot On which it does not drop this tender dew, Except the grave, and there it bids adieu, And prayeth not. Why should that be the only place uncheered By prayer, which to our hearts is most endeared, And sacred grown ? Living, we sought for blessings on their head ; Why should our lips be sealed when they are dead, And we alone ? Idle ? their doom is fixed ? Ah ! who can tell ? Yet, were it so, I think no harm could well Come of my prayer : And O the heart, o'erburdened with its grief This comfort needs, and finds therein relief From its despair. Shall God be wroth because we love them still, And call upon His love to shield from ill Our dearest, best, And bring them home, and recompense their pain And cleanse their sin, if any sin remain, And give them rest ? Nay, I will not believe it. I will pray As for the living, for the dead each day. They will not grow Less meet for heaven when followed by a prayer To speed them home, like summer-scented air From long ago. T24 Who shall forbid the heart's desires to flow Beyond the limit of the things we know ? In heaven above The incense that the golden censers bear, Is the sweet perfume from the saintly prayer Of trust and love. THE END. ROBERT MACLEHOSE, UNIVERSITY PRESS, GLASGOW. •JJocms br> the same Author. HILDA; Among the Broken Gods: a Poem. By tin Author of "Olrig Grange." Third Edition. Extra fcap. 8vo, 7s. 6d. '•That it is characterized by •• ■ ii .it-.- fancy, and happy terms of expression, is admitted on all hands." — Times. "A poem of remarkable power. It contains much fine thought, and shows throughout the deepest penetration into present-day tendeii< ies in belief or no-belief." — British Quarterly Review. " It is to ' Hilda,' however, that we must turn for the most tragic coin ep- tion of actual life that has hitherto been fashioned into verse. No modern poet, it may safely be said, has plunged so deeply into the innermost heart of living men and women, and none has used such remarkable material^ l,r his drama. Here we have highest tragedy, and yet no guilt of the vulgar sort, no bl od-stained fatality, no tyrannous lust, no archaic Nemesis— only the terrible conflict of faith and want of faith. Domestic love, Biblical terrors, religious doubt, scientific tolerance, artistic impulses, these really constitute the elements of the drama. . . Lofty as is the conception, the manner in which it is wrought out from week-day material, it is difficult to praise without incurring the charge of exaggeration. . . 'Hilda' i> I)r. Smith's masterpiece ; and while it impresses one with a conviction of the splendid possibilities of his future, it also opens out a vista into a new region of poetry in which modern humanity, with all its dreams, doubts, and 5] lations, will be transfigured and idealized by the power of genius true t<> its mission." — Scottish Review. "This remarkable poem. . . To use the words of Milton, the tale >.f ' Hilda ' i> told in language which is at once simple, sensuous, and passionate. We have not read for some considerable time a poem which is more rivetting in interest." — Sfcct.it or. "This i- a noble poem, very tragic and full of beauties. The rhythm throughout is exquisite, and the colouring delicious. The humour is pecu- liar — the sarcasm grim and cutting." — Metropolitan. " The author understands how to tell a story in rhyme and tell it in mil verse. He knows 1. tray the humours and follie> of the hour." Pall Mall Ga* " ' Hilda' could only have been produced by a writer of great intellectual gifts." — Scotsman. JAMES MACLEHOSE & SONS, GLASGOW. POEMS BY THE SAME AUTHOR— Contd. NORTH COUNTRY FOLK. Poems by Author of " Olrig Grange." Ex. fcap. 8vo. 7s. 6d. "These poems are really dramatic, genuinely pathetic, and will bear •reading over and over again." — Westminster Review. "The follies and pettiness of suburban life provoke Dr. Smith's scorn. The race for wealth, the desire for position, and other kindred themes, are treated in a straightforward, outspoken fashion." — Dundee Advertiser. " 'Wee Curly Pow' is full of exquisite pathos and tenderness, and 'Dick Dalgleish ' is rich in genuine humour. We recommend all who are fond of genuine poetry to get Dr. Smith's poems at once. The book is full of music. " — Sheffield lndepe7ident. " For rich variety alike in substance and form, for scathing exposure of all that is mean and base, and for the effective presentation of the loftiest ideals, for mingled humour and pathos, we do not know a volume in the whole range of Scottish verse that can be said to surpass ' North Country Folk.' " — Christian Leader. " Wherever the religious or theological life is touched, Dr. Walter Smith shows a rare penetration and a vigorous unreserve in his determination to broaden out the lines of Scottish orthodoxy. . . . The stanzas to the memory of the late Dr. John Brown are simply exquisite in their tender grace and regret, and general comprehensiveness and pathos." — British Quarterly Revietv. " In each of the longer pieces we find a story, more or less, the working out of character therein affording scope for the exercise of a keen and searching analysis that not seldom touches life to the quick, whether in the moral and spiritual or the intellectual sphere." — Aberdeen Free Press. " Dr. Smith has not, we think, done anything better than the best things in this book." — Academy. " Deacon Dorat's story has a strong suggestion of Southey, whom the sub- ject would have suited admirably. The picture of the gipsy children at the foot of the gallows on which their father hung is one that sticks by you." — A tlien&um. JAMES MACLEHOSE & SONS, GLASGOW. POEMS BY THE SAME AUTHOR— Confd. KILDROSTAN: a Dramatic Poem. By the Author of "Olrig Grange." Extra fcap. 8vo. 7s. 6d. "' Kildrostan 1 has all the interest and excitement of a novel, combined With the charm of dignified verse Dr. Smith's power of passionate Utterance readies its highest point in the scene, in the third act, in which Tremain's intense declarations of love are received by Doris with scoffs and jeers. It is like the play of lightning on an iceberg, brilliant but harmless." — Scotsman. " Mr. Smith's new book sparkles with good things from first to last. Ina Lome, the heroine, is a piece of entirely charming portraiture." — Academy. "Since the death of Scott hardly any man has so nearly approached the Wizard of the North in the art of telling a story in graphic and musical verse." — Echo. " ' Kildrostan ' is the most considerable addition that has been made to English poetry since the Poet Laureate and Mr. Browning ceased to sing long strains of melody." — Nottingham Journal. "A dramatic poem of unusual interest and merit." — Leeds Mercury. " This very beautiful and thoughtful work.'' — Manchester Examiner, THE BISHOP'S WALK. Extra fcap. 8vo. 2s. 6d. OLRIG GRANGE: a Poem in Six Books. Third Edition. [Out of Print BORLAND HALL: a Poem. Second Edition. [Outof Print. RABAN; or, Life Splinters: a Poem. [Out of Print. AMES MACLEIIOSE & SONS, GLASGOW SERMONS Preached at Ibrox, Glasgow. By JOSEPH LECKIE, D.D. Second Edition. Crown 8vo, 6s. "This is a very remarkable volume They are thoughtful and pro- found, yet are couched in simple, direct language, which all may under- stand. There is no straining at effect, yet they are most effective. It is the perfection of spoken speech that we have in these sermons." — Edinbtirgh Daily Review. " To those who want a volume of sound yet vigorous sermons, which will set their own minds thinking, we unhesitatingly say, get this without delay.' Leeds Mercury. " Before we had read through a page it was evident that we were in the grasp of a mind of singular power and originality." — Christian World. "A new — new at least to us — and original preacher has appeared. There is a strange impress of power in these discourses." — The Expositor. IN PRE PARA riON Commentary on the Gospel of St. John : for the Use of Preachers and Students. By Thomas Whitelaw, D.D., Author of the Commentary on Genesis, in the Pulpit Commentary. I Vol. Demy 8vo. Memoir of William B. Robertson, D.D., of Irvine: with Extracts from his Poems and Letters. By James Brown, D.D., Author of the "Life of a Scottish Probationer." With Portrait Engraved on Steel by James Faed, Jr., after Drawing by Robert Herdman, R.S.A. i Vol. Crown 8vo. JAMES MACLEHOSE & SONS, GLASGOW.