Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2012 with funding from Princeton Theological Seminary Library http://archive.org/details/hegiolOOjayw HE GIVETH SONGS Oh, life hath many a cloudy day, And many griefs and wrongs ! Yet all along its checkered way " He giveth songs." HE GIVETH SONGS A Collection of Religious Lyrics y BY W. M. L. JAY, A. E. HAMILTON AND OTHERS With Illustrations dy Miss L. B. Humphrey "fifil NEW YORK E. P. DUTTOX AND COMPANY 31 West 23 i> Street Copyright 1880 By E. P. DUTTON & CO. KEVt YORK : J. J. LITTLE S. CO., PRINTERS, 10 TO 20 ASTOR PLACE. PREFACE. In grief and joy, in shadow and sunshine, by night and day, to men and women of every clime, every age, every degree of poetic talent and culture, "He giveth songs." Their mis- sion of hope, cheer, strength, encouragement, and consolation, is twofold, — first to the spe- cial soul that sings, and afterwards to all ear- nest souls that listen. How well they fulfill this double ministry, may be inferred from the many collections of religious songs that have been made, and, doubtless, will continue to be made. For, as the years go on, there are new songs by new singers ; and though the old never cease to delight us with their solidity of thought and the pleasant quaintness of their phraseology and versification, the new wear the kindly charm of every-day likeness— they are the voices of our own time, breathing of our own hopes, fears, needs, and aspirations, and we cannot choose but listen. Yet, wheth- vi PREFACE. er the songs be old or new, sung- loudly and clearly, or low and falteringly, by voices trained and skilled, or careless and untutored, the burden is always the same, — the great Heart of Humanity uplifting itself, with more or less of the patience of hope, to its God ; and wait- ing — aye, yearning- — for the day when it shall sing the "new song" and drink the "new wine " of His Kingdom. The voices are many, but the love and faith are one ; and the con- cord, we may dare to believe, is sweet not only to our earthly ears, but to that Divine Listener who scorns not to receive as our gifts to Him that which He first so richly bestowed on us. This collection is made up of songs old and new, known and unknown, ancient and mod- ern, — put side by side, the better to allow of comparison, and bring out the charm of con- trast. It is drawn from many sources, — former collections, old magazines and news- papers, in a few cases from tenacious memo- ries ; but, for obvious reasons, poems have been preferred which are not comprised in other collections of the day. So far as possi- ble, the names of the authors are given ; two only are represented so largely as to appear on the title-page. One of these is so well PREFACE. vii known as the author of "Shiloh" as to need no further introduction ; of the other it may not be amiss to speak briefly. Miss Anna E. Hamilton died early in 1876, at Castle Hamilton, Killeshandra, Ireland, where her short life of about thirty years had been quietly spent. One who knew her well writes enthusiastically of the beauty of her face and character, describes the charming Irish scenery which surrounded her home and fed her imagination, and draws a pleasant picture of her among the tenantry of the es- tate, ministering to their needs and teaching their children, — literally translating into action what she "taught in song." Her poems first appeared in an English paper called " The Church Bells ; " afterwards they were issued in three thin, unpretentious volumes. They were favorably received and reviewed ; but they are almost unknown in this country. They are original in style and conception ; for the most part short, — strictly confined to one thought, one simile, which is briefly and tersely, often exquisitely, expressed. We are sure that to be loved, they only need to be known. CONTENTS. PAGE / God's Promises A. E. Hamilton. I * At the Evening-Time W. M. L. Jay. 2 Paradise Christina G. Rossetti. 5 The Footprint A. E. Hamilton. 8 Consecration Hymn Frances R. Havergal. 9 The Eternal Now Dora Greenwell. 10 Tears A. E. Hamilton. 1 1 \[ Gone W. M. L. Jay. 12 At the Banquet Emily E. Braddock. 14 Afflictions A. E. Hamilton. 15 Praying in Spirit. . .Ha7'riet Me E wen Kimball. 15 Patience Mary J. MacColl. 17 Care A. E. Hamilton. 18 >/ Trust W. M. L. Jay. 19 The Pulley George Herbert, 20 Sunset A. E. Hamilton, 21 Couplets R. G. Trench. 21 That Day Christina G. Rossetti. 23 J Blind W. M. L. Jay. 25 " He shall Save His People, "etc. A. E.Hamilton. 27 Trayer Henry Vaughan, 28 The North Window Belle White. 20 CONTENTS. The Cruse that Faileth Not Anon. 31 Thine Own Way Jean Sophia Pigott. 32 Worries A . E. Hamilton. 34 J " That Little " W. M. L. Jay. 35 Dying Deaths Daily E. T. 35 The Unseen. A. E. Hamilton. 37 My Psalm John G. Whitticr. 38 , Sad and Sweet Aubrey de Vere. 41 ^ Thou Knowest Best W. M. L. Jay. 42 The Two Twilights A. E. Hamilton. 44 " Our Light Affliction " . . . . Caroline M. Noel. 44 11 The Solitary Places," etc. Mary W. McLain. 45 Accepted Times A. E. Hai?iilton. 46 v/ Isaiah, xxvi. 3 . . . W. M. L. Jay. 47 A Supplication Bp. Huntington. 48 The Deceitful Heart A. E. Hamilton. 50 Growing .Trances T. Havergal. 51 The Name of Jesus Caroline 31. Noel. 52 The Withered Leaf A. E. Hamilton. 55 \ Transverse and Parallel IV M. L. Jay. 55 Day by Day D. M. Muloch. 57 The Violets ■/. E. Hamilton. 58 Your Mission Inon. 58 The Cross . . Caroline M. Noel. 59 Wings Mary E. Atkinson. 61 " Complete in Ilim " /. I'.. Hamilton. 62 ^ Life's History IV. M. L. Jay. 63 The Ransom /. E. Hamilton. 65 Love and Discipline Hcmy Vanghan. 66 CONTEtfTS. xi PAGE The Path through the Snow. ..£>. Jf. Muloch. 67 As Thou Wilt Harriet McEwen Kimball. 69 Our Master John G. Whituer. 69 The Lowest Place Christina G. Rossetti. 71 { Time's Three-fold Aspect IV. M. L. Jay. 72 The Stream and the Rock. . .A. E. Hamilton. 73 My Ships Mary W. McLain. 73 Isaiah, li. 12 A. L. Waring. 75 11 I am that I am " C. Smart. 76 V Two and One W. M. L. Jay. 77 Seeing Jesus -/. E. Hamilton. 78 The Valley of Death From the Basque. 80 The Child on the Judgment-Seat, Author of u Sch'Jnberg-Cotta Family." Si The Sacrifice of the Will Anon. 85 The Cross I.E. Hamilton. 86 Winchester Cathedral Caroline M, Noel. 86 ^ " There shall be no night there " . IV.M.L. Jay. 89 The Turned Lesson Frances R. Ilavergal. 90 The Lost Coin A. E. Hamilton. 92 Beyond Henry Burton. 93 [/ The Voice Within II*. M. L. Jay. 94 Jacob's Ladder }V. Alexander. 95 The Wave A. E. Hamilton. 96 I Will not let Thee Go Deszler. 96 The Wherefore J. S. 98 The Ascension A. E. Hamilton. 98 V The Gospel for the Day W. J/. L. Jay. 99 Judge Not -I.E. Hamilton. 102 xii CONTENTS. PAGE Waiting Caroline M. A r oel. 103 My Vesper Song. Mary R. Butler. 104 If Thou Could'st Know A. A. Proctor. 107 Death A. E. Hamilton. 108 ^ My Prayer W. M. L. Jay. 108 Thanksgiving Frances R. Havcrgal. 109 Jesu Dulcis Memoria. .Front the " Breviary.", 111 The Perfect Will of God A. E. Hamilton. 112 Love's Questionings John G. IFhittier. 113 The Touch of the Unseen Joseph Cook. 113 • The Hem of His Garment. . .A. E. Hamilton. 115 Easter Thoughts for E. Flowers.. W. M.L.Jay. 115 Life's Tapestry Do?-a Grcenivcll. 117 " Gather up the Fragments ". is . A. Hamilton. 117 Thirty-Fold Margaret J. Preston. 119 The Beauty of Holiness. . . . George Macdonald. 120 Calvary A. E. Hamilton. 121 *J Emptiness W. M. L. Jay. 122 The Secret of a Happy Day. .F. R. Hazergal. 123 All's Well Harriet McEwcn Kimball. 126 The Painting 4. F. Hamilton. 127 "A Little While" and "Forever" Anon. 127 11 Rejoice with them that," etc.. A. E.Hamilton. 129 vf Night-Song W. M. L. Jay. 129 The Love of God Saxe Holm. 131 "Great is thy Faith " /. E. Hamilton. 132 Offerings Caroline M. Noel. 132 Hope in Trouble B. IV. Noel 134 My Friend IV. M. L. Jay. 135 CONTENTS. xiii PAGE Winnowing C. C. LiddelL 137 Emblems of Christ A. E. Hamilton. 139 Not Knowing Anon. 141 Just when Thou Wilt. . ..Frances R. Havergal. 143 His Condescension A. E. Hamilton. 144 The Sea-side Well John Kerr. 145 V Sacrifice W.M. L. Jay. 148 The Crucifixion A. E. Hamilton. 149 The Waiting John G. Whittier. 150 He Giveth Songs in the Night. John P. Hopps. 151 The Pillars and the Road. ..A. E. Hamilton. 153 v At Last W. M. L. Jay. 153 Tender Mercies A. L. Waring. 154 Maximus A . A . Proctor. 155 Is it Peace ? A. E. Hamilton. 156 The Song of the Bride P.J. Baily. 157 >/ Giving as the World Gives W. M. L. Jay. 158 Christ's Giving A. E. Hamilton. 159 M To Abide in the Flesh," etc J. Conder. 160 Saints A. E. Hamilton. 161 Sea-weed J. R. Lowell. 161 In Port Owen Meredith. 163 / His Jewels IV. M. L. Jay. 164 The Mystery of Chastisement.. W. Witter -force. 167 " God be Merciful to me," etc.A.E. Hamilton. 168 In the Gloaming Mary W. McLain. 168 Angels E.H. W. 170 V Circles A. E. Hamilton. 172 ^ " No more Sea " W. M. L. Jay. 172 CONTENTS. "All this I Steadfastly Believe " . J. S.Monsell. 174 Who shall Deliver me?. .Christina G. Rossctti. 175 Sympathy A. Ji. Hamilton. 176 Hymn of the Fourteenth Century Anon. 176 V His Garment's Hem W. M. L. Jay. 178 The Kingdom of God R. G. Trench. 179 Grace for Grace Mary G, Brainard. 181 Death and the Jewels A. E. Hamilton. 182 The Voyage of Earth J. S. 183 Question and Answer Anon. 184 Humility A. E. Hamilton. 185 Thy Way — not Mine H. Bonar. 185 The Vine W. M. L. Jay. 1S7 A better Resurrection. . ..Christina G. Rossetti. 1S9 Importunity " Good JVords." 190 The Feast -/. E. Hamilton. 192 His Share and Mine S. M. B. Piatt. 193 The Elixir George Herbert. 195 Influence A . E. Hamilton. 196 The Pharisaic Watch IV. M. L.Jay. 196 Untimely Gathered M. U\ JE 198 Suspiria //. U\ Longfellow. 200 Dark and Light W. M. L. Jay. 201 What ? Caroline Af. Noel. 202 Commissioned Susan Coolidge. 203 The Shaded Light /. /-. Hamilton. 205 " I Shall be Satisfied " R. A. R. 206 [sit So? S. 208 Sorrow /. / . Hamilton. 209 v CONTENTS. xv PAG 17 . Graves W. M. L. Jay. 209 Couplets of Comfort From the Arabic. 211 " Like as a Father" Mary W. McLain. 213 Life through Death R. G. French. 214 ]/ The Two Voices IV. M. L. Jay. 214 The Stranded Ship A. E. Hamilton. 2IJ The Common Offering . Harriet McE. Kimball. 218 Alpha and Omega Caroline M. Noel. 218 / Elim JV. M. L. Jay. 220 The Race I.E. Hamilton. 221 The Holy Name Marion Couthouy. 221 Adoration Mme. Guyon. 223 A Twilight Thought IV. M. L. Jay. 224 The Sea-Bird A. E. Hamilton. 226 God's Anvil . Jtdins Sturm. 227 The Mer de Glace A. F. Hamilton. 228 Not Lost 7. E. H. 229 ^ " But be ye Glad, and Rejoice ". IV. M.L.Jay. 229 Hymn From the " Breviary." 232 — St>BS PROMISES As the deep blue of Heaven bright- ens into stars, So God's great love shines forth in promises, Which, falling soitly through our prison bars, Daze not our eyes, but with their soft light bless. Ladders of light God sets against the skies, Upon whose golden rungs we step by step arise, Until we tread the j halls of Para- dise. AT THE EVENING-TIME. AT THE EVENING-TIME. When I am sitting alone, At closing of day, Hearing the bare boughs moan Over the way, — Watching the dark clouds flit Twixt the sunset and me, Till the last effulgent bit Vanishes utterly, — And up from the quiet nooks Of my pleasant room, Over the prints and the books Creepeth the gloom ; Till each pictured friend's dear face, And the crimson rose at my side- All loveliness, color, and grace — Sink in the silent tide ; And I, bereft and alone, Am left 'mid the rising waves, Hearing the bare boughs moan, And counting my graves ; — There comes — like a bell's far chime Over the water at night — The thought that " At evening-time It shall be light." A T THE E J 7-; VINO- TIME. And lo, through a cloud's gray fringe, Faintly doth show The first soft, silvery tinge Of a hidden glow ; And silently, one by one, The dusky draperies part, Till kindly a star looks down Into my waiting heart. And ever the clouds give place, And ever the dusk grows pale, Till from the moon's bright face Droppeth the latest veil ; And over the prints and the books, And the crimson rose at my side, And into the quiet nooks, Floweth a silver tide ; And all that was dark is light, And all that was lost is found, — Touched with a softer light, With serener beauty crowned ; — And the pictured faces light up, Sweeter for banishment, And my soul, as a crystal cup, Fills with content. So, as nearer me, silent and cold, Death rolleth its tide. AT THE EVENING-TIME. And treasures are swept from my hold, And friends from my side, — And something of courage and will, And something- of hope and delight, Each day 'neath the waters chill Sink out of sight, — And, ever more weary and lone, I am left 'mid the waves, Hearing my lost hopes moan, And counting my graves : — Nay, more, — when that solemn sea, Evermore gathering strength, Solemnly, swiftly o'er me Rolleth its waves at length,— While faces of friends around, And the hushed and shadowed room, With memory, sight, and sound, Drift into gloom, — I think that those waves as they climb, Need not my soul affright, That still, " At the evening-time, It shall be light." Through the swaying, sombre fringe Of the curtained clouds, I know There will steal some faint, soft tinge Of a coming glow, — PARADISE. Some dusky dr a pings of fear, Some shadowy tremors will part, Some star ot heavenly cheer Shine into my heart. And ever the clouds will give place, And ever the dusk grow pale, Till from my Saviour's face Droppeth the last, thin veil, — And faith in seeing is lost, And seeing in loving grows dim, And nothing is counted as cost That hath brought me unto Him. And all that was dark is bright, And all that was pain is peace, As the Day that shall know no night Beginneth, and shall not cease ; And long-lost faces light up, Dearer for banishment,— And my soul, as a deep, deep cup, Fills with content. PARADISE. Once in a dream I saw the flowers That bud and bloom in Paradise ; More fair they are than waking eyes Have seen in all this world of ours. PARADISE. And faint the perfume-bearing rose, And faint the lily on its stem, And faint the perfect violet, Compared with them. I heard the songs of Paradise ; Each bird* sat singing in his place, — A tender song so full of grace, It soared like incense to the skies. Each bird sat singing to his mate A tender song among the trees; The nightingale herself were cold To such as these. I saw the fourfold River Mow, And deep it was, with golden sand ; It flowed between a mossy land, With murmured music grave and low. It hath refreshment for all thirst, For fainting spirits strength and rest ; Earth holds not such a draught as this From east to west. The Tree of Life stood budding there, Abundant with its twelvefold fruits; Eternal sap sustains its roots, Its shadowing branches till the air. PARADISE. 7 Its leaves are healing for the world, Its fruits the hungry world can feed, — Sweeter than honey to the taste, And balm indeed. I saw the Gate called Beautiful, And looked, but scarce could look within ; I saw the golden streets begin, And outskirts of the glassy pool harps, O crowns of plenteous stars, O green palm branches many-leaved, — Eye hath not seen, nor ear hath heard, Nor heart conceived ! 1 hope to see those things again, But not as once in dream of night, — To see them with my very sight, And touch and handle and attain ; To have all Heaven beneath my feet, For narrow way that once they trod, — To have my part with all the saints, And with my Ciod. THE FOOTPRIXT. THE FOOTPRINT. As once towards Heaven my face was set, I came unto a place where two ways met; Cne led to Paradise, and one away, And fearful of myself lest I should stray, I paused that I might know Which was the way wherein I ought to go. The first was one my weary eyes to please, Winding along through pleasant fields of ease. Beneath the shadows of fair branching trees. " This path of calm and solitude Surely must lead to heaven," I cried In joyous mood ; "Yon rugged one, so rough for weary feet, The footpath of the world's too busy street, Lying amid the haunts of human strife, Can never be the narrow way of life." But at that moment I thereon espied A footprint bearing trace of having bled, And knew it for the Christ's, so bowed my head, And followed where He led. CONSECRATION HYMN. CONSECRATION HYMN. Take my life, and let it be Consecrated, Lord, to Thee. Take my moments and my days ; Let them Mow in ceaseless praise. Take my hands, and let them move At the impulse ot Thy love. Take my leet, and let them be Swilt and " beautiful " for Thee. Take my voice, and let me sing Always, only, lor my King. Take my lips, and let them be Filled with messages Irom Thee. Take my silver and my gold; Not a mite would 1 withhold. Take my intellect, and use Every power as Thou shalt choose. THE ETERNAL NOW, Take my will, and make it Thine; It shall be no longer mine. Take my heart, it is Thine own ; It shall be Thy royal throne. Take my love ; my Lord, I pour At Thy feet its treasure-store. Take myself, and I will be Ever, only, all for Thee. THE ETERNAL NOW. " for one day in Thy sight is as a thousand ' yeat *. and a thousand years as one day " " Now have I won a marvel and a truth , " So spake the Soul and trembled, — " dread and ruth Together mixed ; for I did sin of yore ; But tli is (so said I oft) was long ago,— So put it from me far away ; but lo ! With Th< e is neither After nor Before, Lord, and clear within the noonhght set Of one illimitable Present, yet TEARS. n Thou lookest on my lault as it were now. So will I mourn and humble me ; yet Thou Art not as man, that oft forgives a wrong Because he half forgets it, Time being strong To wear the crimson of guilt's stain away ;— For Thou, forgiving, dost so in the Day That shows it clearest— in the boundless sea Of Mercy and Atonement, utterly Casting our pardoned trespasses behind — No more remembered, or to come to mind, Set wide from us as East from West away. So now this bitter turns to solace kind ; And I will comfort me that once of old, A deadly sorrow struck me, and its cold Runs through me still ; but this was long ago. My grief is dull through age, and friends out- worn, And wearied comforters, have long forborne To sit and weep beside me ;— Lord, yet Thou Dost look upon my pang as it were now ! " TEARS EVEN here, From His dear children's eyes, God wipes th* tear ; 1 2 GONE And who would mourn a tear should rill his eye, For God to dry ? Angels might envy man his tearful eyes When Gods hand dries. CONE. What if the heat and the burden, Trouble and toil of our day, Meet with inadequate guerdon ? Tis but a task by the way. Others will labor and sorrow, Struggle with tare and with thorn, Filling our places to-morrow,— We on our way shall be gone ;_ We shall be gone, past toil, past tears, Into the peace of the endless years. What if, ere seed of our sowing Showeth or leaflet or shoot, We must pass onward, unknowing What shall be blossom or fruit ? Sunshine and breeze will befriend it, Dewdrops of eve and of dawn ; Hands be outstretched to defend it Haply though we shall be gone, — GONE. 13 We shall be gone, past want, past woe, Into the joys which the angels know. What if our labor seems wasted ? What if, of all we have sown, Never ripe fruit we have tasted, Never glad harvesting known ? Others, in brighter to-morrows, Lifting glad songs to the morn, Richly may reap from our furrows- Ripened, though we shall be gone,— We shall be gone, past songs, past sighs, Into the fulness of Paradise. Not to ourselves are we living ; Not to ourselves do we die ; Freely receiving as giving. Soul after soul marches by,— Parts of one mighty procession, Stretching from Eden's first dawn On through large curves of progression, Till in the Future 'tis gone- Gone from earth's ken, past beat, past breath, Into the life that is miscalled death. Out of the strain of the Doing Into the peace of the Done ; Out of the thirst of Pursuing Into the rapture of Won ; 14 AT THE BANQUET. Out of gray mist into brightness, Out of pale dusk into dawn,— Out of all wrong- into rightness, We from these fields shall be gone. " Nay," say the saints, " not gone, but come, Into eternity's Harvest-Home !" AT THE BANQUET. Froth, or scum, or sparkling wine, In that brimming cup of thine? Take it without word or sign ! Sweet or bitter though it be, 'Tis the portion mixed for thee, Out of all the company. Is it sweet ? Ay, life is fair ; Yet, sip thou the draught with care,- Sweets may surfeit unaware. Bitter? Quaff, and call it good ! Though by thee not understood, 'Tis a tonic for thy blood. He who drirtketh, looking up For a blessing on his cup, Doth with God and angels sup. PRAYIXG IN SPIRIT. 15 AFFLICTIONS. As a ploughed field. Left desolate and bare To winter storm, and chilly, frosty air,— Yet only thus made dreary for awhile, That richer there the harvest grain may smile; So is the heart whose sod, Tender and green, Hath deeply been Upturned by God, Its sprouting blades laid low, — Yet only broken thus by griefs ploughshare, That in its furrows He might sow The seed of righteousness, which shall in- crease Until it yield the harvest of eternal peace. PRAYING IN SPIRIT. " But thou, when thou pray est, enter into thy closet, and -when thou hast shut thy door, pray to thy Father which is in secret."—^. Matt. vi. 6. 1 NEED not leave the jostling world, Or wait till daily tasks are o'er, To fold my palms in secret prayer Within the close-shut closet door. 1 6 PRAYING IN SPIRIT. There is a viewless, cloistered room, As high as heaven, as fair as day, Where, though my feet may join the throng My soul can enter in and pray. When I have banished wayward thoughts— Of sinful works the fruitful seed, — W T hen folly wins my ear no more, The closet door is shut indeed. No human step, approaching, breaks The blissful silence ot the place ; No shadow steals across the light That falls from my Redeemer's face ! And never through those crystal walls The clash of life can pierce its way, Nor ever can a human ear Drink in the spirit-words I say. One hearkening-, even, cannot know When I have crossed the threshold o'er, For He, alone, who hears my prayer, Has heard the shutting of the door! PATIENCE. 17 PATIENCE. " BlDE a wee and dinna weary," Patience quaintly was defined By a little Scottish maiden ; And the sweet words in my mind Erer linger, like the memory Of a beautiful refrain, Making hours of gloom less dreary When I breathe them o'er again. Fretted by the many crosses All must bear from day to day, Troubled by our cares and losses, Each of us hath need to say To our hearts, impatient, crying For the ships so long at sea, While faith faints and hope is dying, — " Dinna weary, bide a wee." Rainy days each life will sadden, Gentle shower or tempest wild Fall upon us, — blessings gladden In their turn. To every child Gives the Father, or withholdeth, Ever wisely, tenderly ; Thus our hearts for Heaven He mouldeth, 11 Dinna weary, bide a wee." 2 8 CARE. Some there are whom glad fruition 'Neath the skies may never bless, Some to whose long-urged petition Ne'er will come the yearned-for u Yes. Why ? God knoweth,— He who lendeth Strength to suffer trustingly ; What He seeth best He sendeth, — 11 Dinna weary, bide a wee." Hopeful wait a glad " to-morrow," Cast on Jesus every care; Not unseen by Him thy sorrow, Not unpitied thy despair. For His people there remaineth Rest and peace eternally, Where the light of joy ne'er waneth, — " Dinna weary, bide a wee." CARE. As one who through a tree Looks unto distant sunlit hills, And cannot see Their beauty through the branching tracery ; TRUST. 19 So we, From this dark world of which we are so fond, Through the dense branches of the tree of care, — Which, although leafless, all our vision fills, — Can scarce discern the radiance fair Of the bright world beyond. TRUST. When darkness gathers round my path, And all my song-birds cease to sing, I know it is not sent in wrath, — 'Tis but the shadow of Thy wing ! When dancing sunbeams round me shine, And Joy and Peacefulness embrace, I know the radiance is not mine, — 'Tis just the brightness of Thy face ! 20 THE PULLEY. THE PULLEY. " The eye is not satisfied with seeing ; nor the ear with hearing." When God at first made man, Having a glass of blessing standing by, — Let us, said He, pour on him all we can; Let the world's riches, which dispersed lie, Contract into a span. So strength first made a way; Then beauty flowed, then wisdom, honor, pleasure ; When almost all was out, God made a stay, Perceiving that alone, of all His treasure, Rest at the bottom lay. For if I should, said He, Bestow this jewel also on my creature, He would adore my gifts instead of Me, And rest in nature, not the God of nature; — So both should losers be. Yet, let him keep the rest, But keep them with repining restlessness; Let him be rich, and weary, — that at least, If goodness lead him not, yet weariness May toss him to My breast. COUPLETS. 21 SUNSET. When my sun of life, Christ, is setting-, Blot out my sins as clouds in love forgetting, Spreading the crimson of Thy cross's dye Over my fading- sky; — We only through a crimsoned west May enter into rest. COUPLETS. GUEST in a ruinous hut, thou loathest to de- part : Were thine a finer house, 'twould prove a bit- terer smart. God's dealings still are love— His chastenings are alone Love now compelled to take an altered, louder tone. When thou hast thanked thy God for every blessing sent, What time will then remain for murmurs or lament ? 2 2 COUPLETS. Their windows and their doors some close, — and murmuring, say, The light of heaven ne'er sought into my house a way. God often would enrich, but rinds not where to place His treasure, — nor in hand nor heart a vacant space. The oyster sickens while the pearl doth sub- stance win ; Thank God for pains that prove a noble growth within. Some are resigned to go, — might we such grace attain, That we should need our resignation to re- main. God's loudest threatenings speak of love and tenderest care, For who, that wished his blow to light, would say, Beware ? When God afflicts thee, think He hews a rugged stone, Which must be shaped, or else aside as use- less thrown. THA T DA V. 23 He knew, who healed our wounds, we quickly should be fain Our old hurts to lorget — so let the scars re- main. Why win we not at once what we in prayer require ? That we may learn great things as greatly to desire. One furnace, many times, the good and bad will hold ; Yet what consumes the chaff will only cleanse the gold. THAT DAY. The earth and heaven were rolled up like a scroll ; Time and space, change and death, had passed away ; Weight, number, measure, each had reached its whole ; The Day had come, that day. 24 THA T DA Y. Multitudes— multitudes — stood up in bliss, Made equal to the angels, glorious, fair ; With harps, palms, wedding- garments, kiss of peace, And crowned and haloed hair. They sang a song, a new song in the height, Harping with harps to Him who is strong and true ; They drank new wine, their eyes saw with new light, Lo, all things were made new. As though one pulse stirred all, one rush of blood Fed all, one breath swept through them myriad-voiced ; They struck their harps, cast down their crowns, they stood And worshipped and rejoiced. Each face looked one way like a moon new- lit, Each face looked one way towards its Sun of Love; Drank love, and bathed in love, and mirrored it, And knew no cnc\ thereof. BLIND. 2 5 Glory touched glory on each blessed head, Hands locked dear hands never to sunder more ; These were the new-begotten from the dead Whom the great Birthday bore. Heart answered heart, soul answered soul at rest, Double against each other, filled, sufficed; All loving, loved of all ; but loving best And best beloved of Christ. BLIND- I DO not try to see my way, Before, behind, or lelt, or right ; 1 cannot tell what dangers gray Do haunt my steps, nor at what height Above the sea my path doth wind— For 1 am blind. If by my side a chasm yawns, Oft unawares I pass it by ; I feel no fear though crimson dawns With solemn portents fill the sky ;— Slow, step by step, my way I rind, Patient — and blind. 2 6 BLIND. I know not if my goal doth shine Misty and faint in distant blue, Or if these weary feet of mine Its border lands are pressing through; I question, yet no answer mid, For I am blind. On smooth and sunny heights, I laugh In thorny thickets, oft I weep ; Ot cool, sweet fountains now I quaff, And now of bitter springs drink deep — Daring to turn from neither kind, Since I am blind. Yet not without a guide I wend My unseen way, by day, by night; Close by my side there walks a Friend, - Strong, tender, true, -I trust His sight; He sees my way, before, behind, Though I am blind. He leads me as He thinketh best, And all the checkered way He knows; Knows when I need to stop and rest, And when to flee from lurking foes,— Which paths are safe, which undermined To trip the blind. "HE SHALL SAVE HIS PEOPLE." 27 Of all my backward way I know But little, save that thus far on My Friend hath led me safe ; and so I trust when once the goal is won, Good cause of thankfulness to find That 1 was blind. For in that goal's diviner light, And from that Friend's revealed face, My thirsty eyes will drink in sight, And I shall learn what tender grace Led me through paths with dangers lined, Safely — and blind. ••HE SHALL SAVE HIS PEOPLE FROM THEIR SINS." I MET the Saviour in the evening hours ; The sun was sinking in the quiet west ; His hands were filled with newly gathered flowers, With which His Father's mansions should be dressed. I looked upon them with a strange sur- prise ; — He read the thoughts my looks alone ex- pressed ; — 28 "HE SHALL SAVE LYLS PEOPLED u Master, are these indeed earth's very best- Buds nipped and bitten rudely by the frost- Blossoms with petals tempest-torn and tost? And surely Thou hast gathered them with cost ! " The Saviour spake with mercy in His eyes,— " I came to save the lost." The Son of Man hath healing for His art ; The withering- buds men scornfully despise, God gathers up and freshens on His heart. PRAYER. When first thy eyes unveil, give thy soul leave To do the like ; our bodies but forerun The spirit's duty. True hearts spread and heave Unto their God, as flowers do to the sun. Give Him thy first thoughts then; so shalt thou keep Him company all day, and in Him sleep. THE NORTH WINDOW. "They will not grow, "the grave old gardener said, " No flower that blows could bear such cheer- less bed , Even ferns and rushes would not lift their head. " So let the pleasant window garden go ! For you, no greenery in the time of snow ; — For those whost world looks North, it must be so. ' 29 30 THE NORTH WINDOW. He spoke so surely that I, just in spite, Went home, and ere closed in November night, I made my Northern window gay and bright With reeds and rushes, grasses, swaying ferns, And many a flower that in the woodland yearns For brighter sunshine, yet no stray beam spurns. " We will look North together, you and I; No matter what they say, we will not die, — " I whispered them, — " Let us give song for sigh ! " For both it was much easier said than done ; Sometimes we nearly lost the new life won ; Often we cried in pain, " More sun ! more sun ! " But yet we lived, and as the days grew long, Our scanty store of sunbeams grew more strong ; The ferns and rushes pushed an eager throng THE CRUSE THAT FA I LET If NOT. 31 Of blades and leaflets to the gladdening rays : Their growth was one sweet, silent song of ptaise, — The tiny l'oiest " lived melodious days." Stooping, 1 whispered softly, •• Bend your ear For our own secret, ferns and rushes dear ; Our woi Id looked North-but God, He gave oood cheer." THE CRUSE THAT FAILETH NOT. - // is more blessed to give than to receiver Is thy cruse of comfort wasting ? rise and share it with another, And, through all the'years of famine, it shall serve thee and thy brother ; Love Divine will fill thy storehouse, or thy handful still renew ; Scanty fare for one will often make a royal feast for two. For the heart grows rich in giving ; all its wealth is living grain ; Seeds which mildew in the garner, scattered, fill with gold the plain. 32 THINE OWN WAY, Is thy burden hard and heavy ? Do thy steps drag wearily ? Help to bear thy brother's burden ; God will bear both it and thee. Numb and weary on the mountains, would'st thou sleep amidst the snow ? Chafe that frozen form beside thee, and to- gether both shall glow. Art thou stricken in life's battle? — many wounded round thee moan ; Lavish on their wounds thy balsams, and that balm shall heal thine own. Is thy heart a well left empty ? None but God its void can fill ; Nothing but a ceaseless fountain can its cease- less longing still :• Is the heart a living power ? Self-entwined, its strength sinks low ; It can only live in loving ; and by serving, love will grow. THINE OWN WAY. Take Thine own way with me, dear Lord, Thou canst not otherwise than bless ; I launch me forth upon a sea Of boundless love and tenderness. THINE OWN WAY. 33 I could not choose a larger bliss Than to be wholly Thine ; and mine A will whose highest joy is this, To ceaselessly unclasp in Thine. I will not fear Thee, O my God! The days to come can only bring Their perfect sequences of love, Thy larger, deeper comforting. Within the shadow of this love, Loss doth transmute itself to gain ; Faith veils earth's sorrows in its light, And straightway lives above her pain. We are not losers thus ; we share The perfect gladness of the Son — Not conquered— for, behold, we reign, Conquered and Conqueror are one. Thy wonderful grand will, my God ! Triumphantly I make it mine ; And faith shall breathe her glad "Amen " To everv dear command of Thine. Beneath the splendor of Thy choice, Thy perfect choice for me, I rest ; Outside it now I dare not live, Within it I must needs be blest. 34 WORRIES. Meanwhile, my spirit anchors calm In grander regions still than this ; The lair, far-shining latitudes Of that yet unexplored bliss. Then may Thy perfect, glorious will Be evermore fulfilled in me, And make my life an answering chord 01 glad, responsive harmony. Oh, it is life indeed to live Within this Kingdom strangely sweet! And yet we Tear to enter in, And linger with unwilling feet. We fear this wondrous rule of Thine, Because we have not reached Thy heart ; Not venturing our all on Thee, We may not know how good Thou art. WORRIES. The little worries which we meet each day May lie as stumbling-blocks across our way ; Or we may make them stepping-stones to be Ol grace, O Christ, to Thee. DYING DEATHS DAILY. 35 -THAT LITTLE." Tobit iv 8. 11 What canst thou do ?" said the oak to the flower, " With thy little, balmy breath, And thy tender cheek's soft glow, And thy life that is but lor an hour.— What canst thou do, small flower, For a world that is dark with woe, And bitter with sin and death ? " "Ah! well do I know," sighed the bending flower, ••That my life is humble and fleet, And I sweeten but little space ; Yet many the flow'rets in meadow and bower, And if each maketh sweet its hour, And its little, quiet place, Is not the whole world sweet ? " DYING DEATHS DAILY. Into a sorrow-darkened soul A vision full of peace there stole. 3 6 D YING DEA THS DA/L V. An Angel stood beside her way, As forth she went at dawn of day,. And said, 4 « weary and oppressed ! Know that at evening thou shalt rest. "The cross of sin, the crown of thorn, The weight of anguish thou hast borne, " And e'en the sins thou hatest, all From off thy weary soul shall fall, " To life and love and peace restored Within the presence of thy Lord." Then thankfulness and glad surprise Flowed from the sorrow-laden eyes. "With hope of rest so near," said she, " No sorrow more shall dwell with me. " No weight of care, no shade of gloom, Can pass the portal of the tomb ; " And light as air I'll urge my way, Since burdens fall at close of day." The Angel lingered, and a smile Dawned o'er his pitying face the while. THE UNSEEN. 37 " O weak of heart and hope ! " he said, " Deem'st thou all peace is with the dead ? " Or that thy Lord can dwell more near To saints in bliss than toilers here ? 44 If but thou diest day by day To sins that clog; thy homeward way, " Each night shall be a grave of care, And morn a resurrection fair, " And daily be thy strength restored By the dear presence of thy Lord." THE UNSEEN. WE walk beneath the shelter of God's wings, While by our pathway Hope, His angel, sings Ot the unseen and everlasting things. She sings to us of Heaven, the great Home- land, And our eternal house, " not made with hand," Preparing for us there by Christ's command. SS MY PSA LM. That not as strangers shall we reach its shore, Friendless, an unknown region to explore ; Our Elder Brother hath gone on before. MY PSALM. I MOURN no more my vanished years: Beneath a tender rain, An April rain of smiles and tears, My heart is young again. The west winds blow, and singing low, I hear the glad streams run ; The windows of my soul I throw Wide open to the sun. No longer forward nor behind I look in hope or fear ; But, grateful, take the good I find, The best of now and here. I plough no more a desert land, Ti > harvest weed and tare ; The manna dropping from God's hand Rebukes my painful care. MY PSALM. 39 I break my pilgrim staff, — I lay Aside the toiling oar ; The angel sought so far away I welcome at my door. The airs of spring may never play Among the ripening corn, Nor freshness of the flowers of May Blow through the autumn morn ; Yet shall the blue-eyed gentian look Through fringed lids to heaven, And the pale aster in the brook Shall see its image given ; — The woods shall wear their robes of praise, The south wind softly sigh, And sweet, calm days in golden haze Melt down the amber sky. Not less shall manly deed and word Rebuke an age of wrong ; The graven flowers that wreathe the sword Make not the blade less strong. But smiting hands shall learn to heal- To build as to destroy ; Nor less my heart for others feel That I the more enjoy. 4o MY PSALM. All as God wills, who wisely heeds To give or to withhold, And knoweth more of all my needs Than all my prayers have told ! Enough that blessings undeserved Have marked my erring track ; — That wheresoeer my feet have swerved, His chastenings turned me back ;— That more and more a providence Of love is understood, Making the springs of time and sense Sweet with eternal good ; That death seems but a covered way Which opens into light, Wherein no blinded child can stray Beyond the Father's sight ;— That care and trial seem at last, Through Memory's sunset air, Like mountain ranges overpast In purple distance fair;— That all the jarring notes of life Seem blending in a psalm, And all the angles of its strife Slow rounding into calm. SAD AND SWEET. \\ And so the shadows fall apart, And so the west winds play ; And all the windows of my heart I open to the day. SAD AND SWEET. Sad is our youth, for it is ever going, Crumbling away beneath our very feet; Sad is our life, for it is ever flowing In current unperceived, because so fleet; Sad are our hopes, for they were sweet in sowing, But tares self-sown have overtopped the wheat ; Sad are our joys, for they were sweet in blow- ing, — And still, oh, still, their dying breath is sweet ! And sweet is youth, although it hath bereft us Of that which made our childhood sweeter still ; And sweet is middle life, for it hath left us A newer good to cure an older ill ; And sweet are all things, when we learn to prize them Not for their sake, but His, who grants them, or denies them ! 42 THOU KNOWEST BEST. THOU KNOWEST BEST. It seems such a woful waste Of precious talent and time, To be lying- here clay after day, Just in my life's best prime, — With such a weight on my breast, And such a mist in my brain, That I little or nothing- know Save that living is only pain, — When I might be doing some work, Or saying some helpful word, To hasten Thy Kingdom on — But Thou knowest best, O Lord. There is so much work to be done !- So many mouths to be fed, So many famishing souls Crying for living bread, — So many little ones lost In byways crooked and cold, To be tenderly sought, and led Into Thy safe, sweet fold ; — It seems that no willing hand Rejected should be or ignored, Not even this poor one of mine — But Thou knowest best, O Lord. THOU KNOWEST BEST. 43 Worst of it all, there is need Of so much labor within ! Such deep-down rootlets of ill So subtly spring up into sin ! It would take my very best powers To crop them as fast as they shoot, And give to the seedlings of grace Fair room for blossom and fruit; — But closer bound with these pains Than with any chain or cord, I count my lost moments drift by — But Thou knowest best, O Lord. Thou knowest best, inasmuch As Thou only art wholly wise ; Present and Future and Past Blend into one in Thine eyes ; That which we miscall waste May be only Thy mystical seed, Flung wide to make Harvest-Home rich, And harvesters blessed indeed, — May be only the wealth of Thy love On an ignorant world outpoured, — Ah, lavish my days as Thou wilt, For Thou knowest best, O Lord ! Thy purposes will not fail Because of my idleness, — 44 "OUR LIGHT AFFLICTION." The stars in their courses fight For the cause which Thou dost bless,— The angels move at Thy word Swifter than light of sun, And the patient soul works best When it prays, » Thy will be done!" It may be that never again I shall march with the plough or the sword ; It may be— No matter. Amen ; For Thou knowest best, O Lord. THE TWO TWILIGHTS. There are two twilights unto every day- Twilight of dawn, and twilight of decay. And likewise thus we find Two twilights in the thinking of mankind— The twilight of a seeking unto light, The twilight of a doubting unto nig-ht. "OUR LIGHT AFFLICTION." Lord, dost Thou call this our affliction "light?" Is all this anguish little in Thy siffht ? '« THE SOLITARY PLACES. 1 45 "Child! bring thy balance out. Put in one scale All thine afflictions ; give them in full tale ; All thy bereavements, grievances, and fears ; Then add the utmost limit of man's years. Now, put My Cross into the other side, That which 1 suffered when I lived and died." I cannot, Lord ; it is beyond my might ; And, lo ! my sorrows are gone out of sight " Then try another way. Put in the scale The Glory now unseen, behind the veil; The glory given to thine own estate ; Use that 'exceeding and eternal weight.' Which kicks the beam ? " Ah, Lord, Thy word is right; Thus weighed, my sorrow doth indeed seem "lio-ht." -THE SOLITARY PLACES SHALL BE GLAD." How will He make us glad ? How is that promise sweet to be fulfilled, So that our sad, Our aching hearts be stilled? 46 ACCEPTED TIMES. Will He a glory shed O'er the waste places of our lonely days, That our bowed head We can in triumph raise? Or will there gently steal A subtle peace and stillness o'er our life,— O'er woe and weal,— A hushing- f a n strife;— A calm that naught can break,— A tender trustfulness that can be "glad,"— That joy can take Through good days and through bad ;- A tender twilight-calm ;— Such as one sees in far-off Northern days, That seems a psalm Of perfect, peaceful praise? ACCEPTED TIMES. There are immortal moments in each life; They come and go, — One scarce may of their presence know, Yet in them there is struck a chord, It may be loud, it may be low, ISAIAH XXVI. j. 47 Of peace or strife, Of love or hate, Which will vibrate, Like circles from a pebble's throw Unto the coming of the Lord. ISAIAH XXVI. 3. O sweet and wondrous promise! O Peace that passeth thought 1 By God's exceeding goodness In trustful spirits wrought ! How doth all earthly pleasure, How doth all earthly rest, Sink into less than nothing Beside that Heavenly guest! No clouds of care that gather, No waves of sin that toss, No blasts of desolation, No blight, no strife, no loss, Shall break the mystic circle Of that enshrining peace Which 'round the steadfast spirit Doth £row, and doth not cease. - ; A SUPPUCATIi re and gracious promise! Peace, of love the sig 1 long to call thee mine. I ; ml. O Dove of Heaven, - igs, do not c T Is b A SUPPLICATION. O way for all n and ars with toil, and bless us with rod. onds brii freedom; climbing, by I looms the city of our God ! Hallow our wit with prayer: our mastery Pour on our st -ation's holy light : Hew out, for C a Future without weak Quarried from thine .at! A SUPPLICATION, 49 Met, there, mankind's great Brotherhood of Souls and Powers, Raise thou full praises from its farthest cor- ners dim ; Pour down, O Steadfast Sun, thy beams on all its powers ; Roll through its world-wide spaces Faith's majestic hymn. Come, age of God's own Truth, after man's age of fables ! Seed sown in Eden, yield the nations' heal- ing tree ! Ebal and Sinai, Mamre's tents, the Hebrew tables, All look towards Olivet, and bend to Calvary. Fold of the tender Shepherd ! rise and spread ! Arch o'er our frailty roofs of everlasting strength ! Be all the Body gathered to its living Head ! Wanderers we faint : O, let us find our Lord at length ! 50 THE DECEITFUL HEART. THE DECEITFUL HEART. " WOULD'ST thou glance Into the dark depths of a human heart One moment?" And Christ set mt in a trance, Opening my eyes to see, While at His word the gates flew wide apart. I entered and essayed to advance, But quickly I drew back with sudden start, Chilled with the coldness of its vaults of sin, And all I saw within. There Envy, hatred, malice, pride, Had each their altars ranged on every side, To Self, the selfsame idol everywhere ; While through the cobwebbed windows light divine Struggled to shine. 11 Ah, Lord ! " I cried, " Surely this heart a heathen's heart must be— One who has never heard of Thee." With agony I learned that it was mine. I fled away, O'erwhelmed with sorrow and despair, To breathe a purer air ; GROWING. 51 But in its dismal room The Christ would stay; — He shrank not even from this whited tomb, And it became His temple from that day. GROWING. UNTO him that hath, Thou givest Ever M more abundantly." Lord, I live because Thou livest, Therefore give more life to me ; Therefore speed me in the race, Therefore let me grow in grace. Deepen all Thy work, O Master, Strengthen every downward root; Only do Thou ripen faster, More and more, Thy pleasant fruit. Purge me, prune me, self abase, Only let me grow in grace. Jesus, grace for grace outpouring, Show me ever greater things ; Raise me higher, sunward soaring, Mounting as on eagle-wings. By the brightness of Thy face, Jesus, let me grow in grace. 52 THE NAME OF JESUS. Let me grow by sun and shower, Every moment water me ; Make me really hour by hour More and more conformed to Thee, That Thy loving eye may trace, Day by day, my growth in grace. Let me, then, be always growing, Never, never standing still ; Listening, learning, better knowing Thee and Thy most blessed will,— Till I reach Thy holy place, Daily let me grow in grace. THE NAME OF JESUS. One Name alone in all this death-struck earth, One Name alone come clown from highest Heaven, Whence healing and salvation we receive, To sinful man is given. Name brought by Gabriel from the heart of God, And laid like flower-seed in the adoring breast Of her in whom the mystery was wrought, And God made manifest. THE NAME OF JESUS. 53 O Name of Jesus !— of that lowly Babe, That on the sunny slopes of Nazareth strayed, Or, calm and silent on the cottage floor, With wild flowers played ; Name of the wondrous Child, that in the tem- ple stood, With brow all meekness, and with eye all light, Who to the blinded teachers of the Law Would have given sight ; Name of the Prophet, Healer, Master, Friend, Death's mighty Vanquisher, and sorrow's Cure, The Fountain of new innocence for man, That ever shall endure ; The secret, the unutterable Name, From the world's earlier ages hid so long, Now in time's fulness given at length to be The new creation's song ;— O Name of value infinite! and yet Thou mov'st our spirits with a deeper thrill, For the dear lips that have Thy music breathed, And then grown still. 54 THE NAME OE JESUS. For Thou the last gift art our lost ones leave, To he our comfort on our onward way ; " Love Jesus," " Jesus is our only hope," Adoringly they say. As shipwrecked sailors grasp an oar, and launch Upon the billows of a midnight sea, These fearless souls, embracing Jesus, plunge Into Eternity ; Then, safely floated to the Home of peace, Where the bright plumed angels throng the shore, Still, still the Name of Jesus those glad hosts In anthems pour. Name that the ransomed souls forever wear, Gemmed with pure lustre on each perfect brow, Be Thou the radiance of our earthly lives; Transform us even now. O Name above all names the most beloved ! Fullest of memories, and of untold peace, Earnest of all unutterable joys ! — Yet, fond heart, cease ; TRANSVERSE A.YD PARALLEL 55 For Jesus is the Name of the High God ; Hushed be thy thoughts, and silently adore ! When thou shalt come to see Him as He is, Thou shalt know more. THE WITHERED LEAF. I WATCHED a withered leaf borne high Upon the wild wind's breath ; Though upward tossed towards the sky, It still remained a thing of death. On wind of feeling highly wrought, On wind of intellectual thought, We unto Christ may nigh be brought, A moment brief, And yet otir hearts continue dead As that careering withered leaf, On that autumnal evening red. TRANSVERSE AND PARALLEL. Dear Lord, my will from Thine doth run Too oft a different way ; I cannot say, "Thy will be done," In every darkened day ; 5 6 TRANSVERSE AND PARALLEL. My heart grows chill To see Thy will Turn all earth's gold to gray. My will is set to gather flowers, Thine blights them in my hand ; Mine reaches for life's sunny hours, Thine leads through shadow-land ; And all my days Go on in ways I cannot understand. Yet more and more this truth doth shine From failure and from loss,— The will that runs transverse to Thine Doth thereby make its cross ; Thine upright will Cuts straight and still Through pride, and dream, and dross. But if in parallel to Thine My will doth meekly run, All things in heaven and earth are mine, My will is crossed by none. Thou art in me, And I in Thee, Thy will — and mine— are done ! DAY BY DAY. 57 DAY BY DAY. Every day has its dawn, Its soft and silent eve, Its noontide hours of bliss or bale ; — Why should we grieve ? Why do we heap huge mounds of years Before us and behind, And scorn the little days that pass Like angels on the wind, Each turning round a small sweet face As beautiful as near? Because it is so small a face We will not see it clear; We will not clasp it as it flies, And kiss its lips and brow ; We will not bathe our weary souls In its delicious Now. And so it turns from us, and goes Away in sad disdain ; Though we would give our lives for it, It never comes again. 5 8 YOUR MISSION. Yet, every day has its dawn, Its noontide and its eve ; Live while we live, giving God thanks- He will not let us grieve. THE VIOLETS. As I was gathering violets in the snow, Methought how often, when the heart is low, And Nature grieves, The buds of simple faith will meekly blow 'Neath frosted leaves. YOUR MISSION. If you cannot on the ocean Sail among- the swiftest fleet, Rocking on the highest billows, Laughing at the storms you meet,— You can stand among the sailors Anchored yet within the bay, You can lend a hand to help them As they launch their boats away. If you are too weak to journey Up the mountains steep and high, You ran stand within the valley While the multitude go by ; THE CROSS. You can chant a happy measure As they slowly pass along, — Though they may forget the singer, They may not forget the song. If you cannot in the conflict Prove yourself a soldier true, If where smoke and fire are thickest There's no work for you to do ; When the battle-field is silent, You can go with careful tread, You can bear away the wounded, You can cover up the dead. Do not then stand idly waiting For some greater work to do ; Fortune is a fickle goddess, She will never come to you. Go and toil in any vineyard, — Do not fear to do and dare ; If you luant a field of labor. You can find it anywhere. THE CROSS. Sink in, thou blessed sign! Pass all my spirit through, And sever with thy sacred touch The hollow from the true. 59 60 THE CROSS. Sorrow shall wear thy badge As her fair sign of hope; No self-indulgent voice may say That grief may have full scope. Sickness shall own thy sway, With steadfast, patient eye- Thoughtful for others, who must bear The weight of sympathy. Thou shalt restrain my soul 'Mid the world's tempting gloss ; Schemes, memories, wishes, all must feel The burden of the Cross. The understanding high Shall bow beneath thy might, Relinquishing its vain attempt To gauge the Infinite. Through my heart's very ground Thy ploughshare must be driven ; Till all are better loved than self, And yet less loved than Heaven. And my impatient will Under Thy yoke shall learn How to be constant to one end, Yet yield at every turn. WINGS. 6 1 On vanity and sin Stamp thy broad bars of shame ; High was my birthright, but my life Deserves no meed but blame. Draw thy clear cutting lines In scorn above my pride, And keep me, with meek wounded heart, Close to the Crucified. Oh ! can it, must it be, That thou wilt rule all thus? The cross to Jesus was no dream : Shall it be so to us ? WINGS. O THAT my soul had wings ! we sighing cry. What wings? The doves, to hover round our nest On sweet love-errands ? Eagle wings, to fly- To glory's mountain-crest ? Or angel wings, to speed on tasks of heaven ? Ah ! when God's work demands increase of powers, The wider range and freer flight is given, If such a task be ours ; 62 "COMPLETE IN HI Mr But wings to fly away and be at rest He giveth not ; for whither should we go ? Away from duty, on an endless quest, Across a sea of woe ? The fretting friction of our daily life, Heart - weariness with loving patience borne, The meek endurance of the inward strife, The painful crown of thorn, Prepare the heart for God's own dwelling- place, Adorn with sacred loveliness His shrine; And brighten every inconspicuous grace, For God alone to shine. "COMPLETE IN HIM." Unstable waves grow firm below Christ's feet, The wilderness doth blossom as the rose ; These He doth soften with His mercy sweet, Strengthening the weak and feeble will of those. In Him we find The lacking power of every frame of mind, \\\ whom " we are complete." LIFE'S HISTORY. 63 LIFE'S HISTORY. ' Be merciful, O God, unto Thy people "— Deut. xxi. 8. Like flowing streams our years go by, Like filmy smoke our days ; Between the solemn earth and sky We run our thoughtless ways. We dream of joy, we toil for gold, We laugh, love, strive, and hate; Our faces, 'neath the quiet mould, Are heavenward turned — too late. Be merciiul, O God ! Ere evil we can know from good, Or right from wrong undo, By mother's milk, by father's blood, The evil taints us through. The sins, the passions, of their past Our earliest steps control, And in our weakness bind us fast, Body and brain and soul. Be merciful, O God ! Thus fettered, forth we go to meet A foe on every hand, — A foe close-veiled in soft deceit, — Smiling, and smooth, and bland \— 64 LIFE'S HISTORY. A foe that steals our inmost heart With warm and kind embrace, Till soon or late the maskings part, And show the mocking face. Be merciful, O God! So easy, too, the downward way ! So ready to our feet ! So golden-lined with sunbeams gay, And promises most sweet! For evil meets us everywhere,— In daily deed and thought, ' In church and mart, in hymn and prayer,- The good must still be sought. Be merciful, O God ! Beside all waters do we sow, And little reap but pain ; Our weary souls "an-hungered " go Among the blighted grain,— Our hungry souls are parched with thirst Beside the failing springs ; And all the radiant hopes we nursed Depart on lessening wings. Be merciful, () God ! Yet, slowly, slowly, day by day, We something Irani from loss ; From some sweet snares we turn away, We half-way lift some cross. THE RANSOM. ( Illusions one by one outworn Drop trom before our eyes ; And hands by thorns recurrent torn We lift up to the skies. Be merciful, O God! So, daily, nature's weeds grow less, The plants of grace grow strong ; Some sweets we wring from bitterness, — We cry, M O Lord, how long ! " We lift our eyes up to the hills, We clasp the Holy Rood ; Thy peace like Heavenly dew distils, — We know that thou art good And merciful, O God ! THE RANSOM. Christ did not send, But came Himself to save; The ransom price He did not lend, But gave. Christ died, the shepherd for the sheep ; We only fall asleep. 5 66 LOVE AND DISCIPLINE. LOVE AND DISCIPLINE. Since in a land not barren still, Because Thou dost Thy grace distil, My lot is fall'n, blest be Thy will ! And since these biting frosts but kill Some tares in me which choke or spill That seed Thou sow'st, blest be Thy skill! Blest be Thy dew, and blest Thy frost, And happy I to be so crost, And cured by crosses at Thy cost. The dew doth cheer what is distrest, The frosts ill weeds nip and molest, In both Thou work'st unto the best. Thus while Thy several mercies plot, And work on me, — now cold, now hot,— The work goes on, and slacketh not; For as Thy hand the weather steers, So thrive 1 best 'twixt joys and tears, And all the year have some green cars. THE PATH THROUGH THE SNOW, Bare and sunshiny, bright and bleak, Rounded cold as a dead maid's cheek, Folded white as a sinner's shroud, Or wandering angel's robes of cloud, — Well I know, well I know Over the fields the path through the snow. Narrow and rough it lies between Wastes where the wind sweeps, biting keen ; Every step of the slippery road Marks where some weary foot has trod ; Who'll go, who'll go After the rest on the path through the snow? 6- 68 THE PATH THROUGH THE SNOW They who would tread it must walk alone, Silent and steadfast — one by one. Dearest to dearest can only say, " My heart, I'll follow thee all the way, As we go, as we go, Each after each on this path through the snow." It may be under that western haze Lurks the omen of brighter days ; That each sentinel tree is quivering Deep at its core with the sap of spring, And while we go, while we go, Green grass-blades pierce through the glitter- ing snow. It may be the unknown path will tend Never to any earthly end, Die with the dying clay obscure, And never lead to a human door; That none know who did go Patiently once on this path through the snow. No matter, no matter ! the path shines plain ; Those pure snow-crystals will deaden pain ; Above, like stars in the deep blue dark, Eyes that love us look down and mark ; — Let us go, let us go, Whither Heaven leads in the path through the snow. OUR MASTER. 69 AS THOU WILT. It is so sweet to live My little life to-day, That I would never leave it, if I might forever stay ! — I sometimes say. I am so weary, Lord, I would lie down for aye, Could I but hear Thee speak the word : " Thy sins are washed away ! "— I sometimes say. The better mood that lies These moods between midway, Comes softly, and I lift mine eyes : " Lord, as Thou wilt ! " I pray ; And would alway. OUR MASTER. O LORD and Master of us all ! Whate'er our name or sign, We own Thy sway, we hear Thy call, We test our lives by Thine. 70 OUR MASTER. Thou judgest us ; Thy purity- Doth all our lusts condemn ; The love that draws us nearer Thee Is hot with wrath to them. Our thoughts lie open to Thy sight ; And, naked to Thy glance, Our secret sins are in the light Of Thy pure countenance. Thy healing pains ; a keen distress Thy tender light shines in ; Thy sweetness is the bitterness, Thy grace the pang, of sin. Yet, weak and blinded though we be, Thou dost our service own ; We bring our varied gifts to Thee, And Thou rejectest none. To Thee our full humanity, — Its joys and pains belong ; The wrong of man to man on Thee Inflicts a deeper wrong. Who hates, hates Thee; who loves, becomes Therein to Thee allied ; All sweet accords of hearts and homes In Thee are multiplied. THE LOWEST PLACE. 71 Deep strike Thy roots, heavenly vine, Within our earthly sod, — Most human and yet most divine, The flower of man and God ! THE LOWEST PLACE. NOT to be first ; how hard to learn That lifelong lesson of the Past ; Line graven on line and stroke on stroke ; But, thank God, learned at last ! So now in patience I possess My soul year after tedious year, Content to take the lowest place, The place assigned me here. Yet sometimes, when I feel my strength Most weak, and life most burdensome, I lift mine eyes up to the hills From whence my help shall come. Yea, sometimes still I lift my heart To the Archangel's trumpet-burst, When all deep secrets shall be shown, And many last be first. j 2 TIME'S THREEFOLD ASPECT. TIME'S THREEFOLD ASPECT. Sing, O sighing Heart ! Time is marching on ! — O'er the frost and o'er the snow, O'er the river's ice-bound flow, Time is marching on ! Decking barren boughs with flowers, Bringing bird-songs to the bowers, Gold-embroidering the hours, — Time is marching on ! Sigh, O singing Heart! Time is marching on ! O'er the sunbeam's golden glow,- O'er the river's rippling flow, Time is marching on ! Buds and promises he breaks, Green and ripened fruit he takes, Down the hoary frost he shakes, — Time is marching on ! Sing not, sigh not, Heart ! Time is marching on ! Neither pains nor pleasures stay, Work while it is called To-Day, — Time is marching on ! MY SHIPS. 73 Gloom of eve brings gold of dawning, Night of death shall be life's morning- Take the comfort— heed the warning- Time is marching on ! THE STREAM AND THE ROCK. O STREAM of love ! If thou should'st come upon a rock of hate, Rippling around it softly move, And wait Till by the rains of grace from heaven fed, Thou shalt thy waves of mercy o'er it spread ! MY SHIPS. All my ships are out at sea ; And the harbors empty lie, Desolate beneath the eye, While the waves so fresh and free Toss my ships upon the sea. And I know not which are lost, Buried deeply in the sand ; Neither know I which will land Worn and altered, tempest-toss'd,— Mine— though dear has been the cost. 74 MY SHIPS. Sailing, sailing, year by year, — Some whose value was but small Now are prized before them all, Now have grown to be most dear, — To my heart of hearts most dear. Some on which I counted most, Deeply laden went to sea ; But they come not back to me, — So I fear me they are lost, Stranded on some alien coast. Could I stretch a saving hand To the ones I hold most dear, I would keep it back in fear ; I would wait for them to land, Standing watching on the strand. For my ships are not all mine ; One by one they came to me, Sailing slowly o'er the sen; One by one, in rain or shine, Find I which are His, which mine. So I know that I must Wait Humbly still and patiently For my ships to come from sea, — One by one, or soon, or late, Sailing through the Golden Gate. ISAIAH LI 12. 75 ISAIAH LI. 12. Sweet is the solace of Thy love, My Heavenly Friend, to me, While through the hidden way of faith I journey home with Thee, — Learning by quiet thankfulness As a dear child to be. Though from the shadow of Thy peace My feet would often stray, Thy mercy follows all my steps, And will not turn away, Yea, Thou wilt comfort me at last, As none beneath Thee may. Oft in a dark and lonely place, I hush my hastened breath, To hear the comfortable words Thy loving Spirit saith, And feel my safety in Thy hand From every kind of death. Oh, there is nothing in the world To weigh against Thy will ; 76 "/ AM THAT I AM." Even the dark times I dread the most Thy covenant fulfil ; And when the pleasant morning dawns, I find Thee with me still. Then in the secret of my soul, Though hosts my peace invade, Though through a waste and weary land My lonely way be made, Thou, even Thou, wilt comfort me — 1 need not be afraid. Still in the solitary place I would awhile abide, Till with the solace of Thy love My heart is satisfied ; And all my hopes of happiness Stay calmly at Thy side. "I AM THAT I AM." " Tell them I am," Jehovah said To Moses, while earth shook with dread ; And, smitten to the heart, At once, above, beneath, around, All Nature, without voice or sound, Replied, — " O Lord, THOU ART ! " TWO AND ONE. 77 TWO AND ONE. The Flesh. O weary burden, ever borne Through rough and thorny ways ! O hope and faith, wellnigh outworn, So late ye turn to praise ! When shall some little touch of joy Crown all these toilsome days! The Spirit. O foolish heart, see'st thou no sweet In bitter things concealed ? The thorns keep in thy wandering feet, The burden is thy shield. And is there not the " glory " yet In heaven to be revealed ? The Flesh. Ah, me ! the way is overlong, The glory overfar ! In toiling, I forget hope's song, In climbing, lose faith's star ! So far removed those future joys ! So near my sorrows are ! 78 SEEING JESUS. The Spirit. No joy so far as Christ from woes That scorn His healing grace ! No grief so near as Christ to those Who humbly seek His face ! No toil too great to win at last At His right hand a place ! Both. So blind we are, — oh, give us sight! So weak, — oh, make us strong ! Touch all our dark with heavenly light, Our lips with trustful song ; — So shall no labor seem too hard, No way — to Thee — too long ! SEEING JESUS. We would see Jesus ! we have longed to see Him Since first the story of His love was told ; We would that He might sojourn now among us, As once He sojourned with the Jews of old. SEEING JESUS. 79 We would see Jesus ! see the infant sleeping, As on our mother's knees we, too, have slept ; We would see Jesus ! see Him gently weep- ing, As we, in infancy, ourselves have wept. We would behold Him, as He wandered lowly, — No room for Him, too often, in the inn, — Behold that life, the beautiful, the holy, The only sinless in this world of sin. We would see Jesus ! we would have Him with us, A guest beloved and honored at our board ; How blessed were our bread if it were broken Before the sacred presence of the Lord ! We would see Jesus ! we would have Him with us, Friend of our households and our children dear, — Who still, should Death and Sorrow come among us, Would hasten to us, and would touch the bier. 80 THE VALLE Y OF BE A TH. We would see Jesus ! not alone in sorrow, But we w r ould have Him with us in our mirth ; He, at Whose right hand there are joys for- ever, Doth not disdain to bless the joys of earth. We would see Jesus ! but the wish is faith- less ; Thou still art with us, who hast loved us well ; Thy blessed promise, " I am with you always," Is ever faithful, O Immanuel ! THE VALLEY OF DEATH. I have made Thee my choice, O Jesus divine ; And my heart shall rejoice, Thy love it is mine, Though I walk in the darkness, And walk to my death. My soul, like a fountain, Springs upward to Thee . CHILD OX JUDGMENT-SEAT. 8 1 And I on the mountain Of Zion would be. But I stand in the valley The Valley of Death ! Descend, angels, this hour, Through storm-clouds that roll ; As a little white flower Come gather my soul ; Bear it up on your pinions, The swift wings of death. My full heart is yearning, A censer of love : The sunset is burning Like incense above ; 'Tis His token, and gladly I walk to my death. THE CHILD ON THE JUDGMENT- SEAT. Where hast thou been toiling all day, Sweet- heart, That thy brow is burdened and sad ? The Master's work may make weary feet, But it leaveth the spirit glad. 6 82 CHILD ON JUDGMENT-SEA T. Was thy garden nipped with the midnight frost, Or scorched with the mid-day glare ? Were thy vines laid low, or thy lilies crushed, That thy face is so full of care ? " No pleasant garden -toils were mine ! — I have sate on the judgment-seat, Where the Master sits at eve and calls The children around His feet." How earnest thou on the judgment-seat, Sweet-heart ? Who set thee there ? 'Tis a lonely and lofty seat for thee, And well might fill thee with care. " I climbed on the judgment-seat myself, I have sate there alone all day, For it grieved me to see the children round Idling their life away. They wasted the Master's precious seed, They wasted the precious hours; They trained not the vines, nor gathered the fruits, And they trampled the meek, sweet flowers." CHILD ON JUDGMENT-SEAT. 83 And what hast thou clone on the judgment- seat, Sweet-heart? What did'st thou there ? Would the idlers heed thy childish voice ? Did the garden mend for thy care ? " Nay, that grieved me more ! I called and I cried, But they left me there forlorn ; My voice was weak, and they heeded not, Or they laughed my words to scorn." Ah, the judgment-seat was not for thee ! The servants were not thine ! And the Eyes which adjudge the praise and blame See farther than thine or mine. The Voice that shall sound there at eve, Sweet-heart, Will not raise its tones to be heard ; It will hush the earth, and hush the hearts, And none will resist its word. "Should I see the Master's treasures lost, The stores that should feed his poor, And not lift my voice, be it weak as it may, And not be grieved and sore ? " 84 CHILD ON JUDGMENT-SEA T. Wait till the evening- falls, Sweet-heart, Wait till the evening falls \> The Master is near and knoweth all, Wait till the Master calls. But how fared thy garden-plot, Sweet-heart, Whilst thou sat'st on the judgment-seat ? Who watered thy roses and trained thy vines, And kept them from careless feet ? " Nay, that is the saddest of all to me ! That is the saddest of all ! My vines are trailing, my roses are parched, My lilies droop and fall." Go back to thy garden-plot, Sweet-heart! Go back till the evening falls ! And bind thy lilies, and train thy vines, Till for thee the Master calls. Go make thy garden fair as thou can'st, — Thou workest never alone ; Perchance he whose plot is next to thine Will see it, and mend his own. And the next may copy his, Sweet-heart, Till all grows fair and sweet ; And, when the Master comes at eve, Happy faces His coming will greet. THE SACRIFICE OF THE WILL. 8; Then shall thy joy be full, Sweet-heart, In the garden so fair to see, In the Master's words of praise for all, In a loqk of His own for thee ! THE SACRIFICE OF THE WILL. " Thy will be done. " Laid on Thy altar, O our Lord divine, Accept my gift this day, for Jesu's sake ! I have no jewels to adorn Thy shrine, Nor any world -famed sacrifice to make ; But here I bring within my trembling hand This Will of mine— a thing that seemeth small ; And Thou alone, O Lord, canst understand How, when I yield Thee this, I yield Thee all. Hidden therein, Thy searching gaze can see Struggles of passion, visions of delight — All that I have, or am, or fain would be — Deep love, fond hope, and longings infinite. It hath been wet with tears, and dimmed with sighs, Clenched in my grasp till beauty hath it none ; 86 WINCHESTER CATHEDRAL. Now, from Thy footstool where it vanquished lies, The prayer ascendeth, " May Thy will be done." Take it, O Father, ere my courage fail, And merge it so in Thy own will, that e'en If in some desperate hour my cries prevail, And Thou give back my gift, it may have been So changed and purified, so fair have grown, So one with Thee, so filled with peace divine, I may not know or feel it as mine own, — But gaining back my will, may find it Thine. THE CROSS. A CHRISTLESS cross no refuge were for me ; A crossless Christ my Saviour might not be ; But, O Christ crucified, I rest in Thee ! WINCHESTER CATHEDRAL. We stood beside the sculptured screen, And heard the holy sound Of music, from the choir within, Filling the silence round. WINCHESTER CATHEDRAL. 87 We heard it rise and float and fall, Yet could not catch the words, Which, to the worshippers within, Blent with those solemn chords. But as each psalm drew near its close, We knew that they would raise Unto the Lord Omnipotent, Ascriptions of high praise. Then we, too, joined, and sang aloud, " Glory to God most high, To Father, Son, and Comforter, To all eternity!" And thoughts arose of those we love, Whose footsteps with us trod Along the path of life awhile, Then mounted to their God. They scaled the golden steps to Heaven, And passed the inner gate ; We in the outer Church remain, Nor understand their state. We know not what new song they sing, Save that they sometimes cry, " Unto the Lamb that once was slain Be praise and majesty ! " 8 WINCHESTER CATHEDRAL. And we may join, — though at our prayers On earth no more they bend ; In adoration of the Lamb, Our voices still can blend. O Thou of Whom the family In heaven and earth is named, For whom such joys Thou hast prepared, That Thou art not ashamed To call us " brethren," and to let Our souls through anguish learn To love, as Thou dost, patiently, Without the glad return From voice of answering love, — without The help of sense or sight ; — Sustain us when we faint and fall, Till we are purged quite From all alloy of sin and self, — Till we are meet to be Gathered at last with our beloved, Thy countenance to see. "NO NIGHT THERE." So "THERE SHALL BE NO NIGHT THERE." No night of gloom, to drop between our eyes And smiling summer skies ? No slow-paced night of gnawing pain, to creep Between our eyes and sleep ? No night of woe, to shut all dear delight No night of sin, to grow and never cease Betwixt our hearts and peace ? No night of death, to darken drearily Between our souls and Thee ? Ah, through these nights guide us, sweet Lord, we pray, Up to that nightless Day ! 90 THE TURNED LESSON. THE TURNED LESSON. "I THOUGHT I knew it! "she said- "I thought I had learned it quite'" But the gentle teacher shook her head, ' M lth a S r ave, yet loving light In the eyes that fell on the upturned face, As she gave the hook With the mark still set in the self-same place, "I thought I knew it! "she said; And a heavy tear fell down As she turned away with bending head ; Yet not for reproof or frown And not for the lesson to learn again, Or the play hour lost ; It was something else that gave the pain. She could not have put it in words, But her teacher understood, As God understands the chirp of the birds In the depths of an autumn wood • And a quiet touch on the reddening cheek Was quite enough ; No need to question, no need to speak. THE TURNED LESSON. 91 Then the gentle voice was heard, " Now i will try you again," And the lesson was mastered, every word ; Was it not worth the pain ? Was it not kinder the task to turn, Than to let it pass As a lost, lost leaf that she did not learn ? Is it not often so, That we only learn in part, And the Master's testing-time may show That it was not quite " by heart " ? Then He gives, in His wise and patient grace, The lesson again, With the mark still set in the self-same place. Only stay by His side Till the page is really known ; It may be we failed because we tried To learn it all alone. And now that He would not let us lose One lesson of love (For He knows the loss), can we refuse? But oh ! how could we dream That we knew it all so well, Reading so fluently, as we deem, What we could not even spell? 92 THE LOST COIN, But oh ! how could we grieve once more That patient One, Who has turned so many a task before ! That waiting- One, who now Is letting us try again ; Watching us with the patient brow That bore the wreath of pain ; Thoroughly teaching what He would teach, Line upon line, Thoroughly doing His work in each. Then let our hearts be still, Though our task be turned to-day. Oh ! let Him teach us what He will, In His most gracious way, Till, sitting only at Jesus' feet, As we learn each line, The hardest is found all clear and sweet. THE LOST COIN. Lord, Thou dost enter in, Into this world of sin, Sweeping it with the besom of Thy love; BE YOND. 93 Searching for that last coin Which Satan did purloin From God's great treasury above. Finding it in the dust, Thou dost remove its rust ; And, with His image re-impressed once more, That which was God's Thou dost to God re- store. BEYOND. Never a word is said, But it trembles in the air, And the truant voice has sped, To vibrate everywhere ; And perhaps far off in eternal years The echo may ring upon our ears. Never are kind acts done To wipe the weeping eyes, But like flashes of the sun, They signal to the skies ; And up above the angels read How we have helped the sorer need. Never a day is given, But it tones the after years, 94 THE VOICE IV J THIN. And it carries up to heaven Its sunshine or its tears; While the to-morrows stand and wait The silent mutes by the outer gate. There is no end to the sky, And the stars are everywhere, And time is eternity, And the here is over there • For the common deeds of the common day Are ringing bells in the far-away THE VOICE WITHIN. A Voice to me calling— calling ! And what doth it say through the shine , On, life is so vain, with its endless refrain Of 'That which hath been is what cometh again,' — Till Death puts the wretched « In fine ! '" A Voice to me calling— calling ! And what doth it say through the gloom ? " Oh, life is so sweet at the Lord's dear feet ■ In the light of His smile it is sequence com- plete, And a door into glory, the tomb ! " ■ ■> JACOB'S LADDER. 95 JACOB'S LADDER. Ah ! many a time we look, on starlit nights, Up to the sky, as Jacob did of old ; Look longing up to the eternal lights, To spell their lines of gold. But never more, as to the Hebrew boy, Each on his way the Angels walk abroad, And never more we hear, with awful joy, The audible voice of God. Yet, to pure eyes the Ladder still is set, And Angel visitants still come and go ; Many bright messengers are moving yet From the dark world below. Thoughts, that are surely Faith's outspreading wings — Prayers of the Church, still keeping time and tryst — ■ Heart-wishes, making bee-like murmurings, Their flower the Eucharist- Spirits elect, through suffering rendered meet For those high mansions— from the nursery door 96 / ir/LL NOT LET THEE GO. Bright babes that seemed to climb with clay- cold feet Up to the Golden Floor, — These are the messengers forever wending From earth to Heaven, that faith alone can scan ; These are the Angels of our God, ascending Upon the Son of Man ! THE WAVE. The wave is mighty, but the spray is weak ! And often thus our great and high resolves, Grand in their forming as an ocean wave, Break in the spray of nothing. I WILL NOT LET THEE GO. And the disciples said, Send her away, for she crieth after us. But He said, Great is thy faith, be it unto thee even as thou wilt. I will not let Thee go, Thou Help in time oi need ! Heap ill on ill, I trust Thee still, / WILL NOT LET THEE GO. 97 E'en when it seems as Thou would'st slay in- deed ! Do as Thou wilt with me, I yet will cling to Thee ; Hide Thou thy face, yet, Help in time of need, I will not let Thee go ! I will not let Thee go ; should I forsake my bliss ? No, Lord, thou'rt mine, And I am Thine, Thee will I hold when all things else I miss. Though dark and sad the night, joy cometh with the light, Thou my Sun, should I forsake my bliss ? I will not let Thee go ! 1 will not let Thee go, my God, my Life, my Lord ! Not Death can tear Me from His care, Who for my sake His soul in death outpoured. Thou died'st for love of me, I say in love to Thee, E'en when my heart shall break, my God, my Life, my Lord, I will not let Thee go ! 7 g8 THE ASCENSION. THE WHEREFORE. GOD only smites, that through the wounds of woe The healing balm He gives may inlier flow. THE ASCENSION. The crimson petals of the withering day Lay scattered on a bank of evening cloud : Came twinkling forth upon their glittering way The bright forerunners of the starry crowd. The hazy calmness of the eventide Fell softly over mountain, stream and hill ; Time's greatest day, in all its sunny pride, Was gathered to its fathers calm and still. That day to be remembered evermore, When the ascending Lord the heavens bowed : O Risen Crucified ! Straight from Thy Cross unto Thy Throne we soar. THE GOSPEL FOR THE DAY. " A PLEASANT room ! " the lady said, Pausing within the artist's door, And smiling- at the pictured walls, The sunshine slanting to the floor. The artist sighed. — " Yet gladly I Would miss that sunshine's fluent gold \ So oft I think I'm painting warm, When I am really painting cold ' 99 IOO THE GOSPEL FOR THE DAY. "My picture seems so full of sun ! — I think the whole wide summer lives And breathes within its little space, With all the warmth that summer gives ; " Till, as the day draws to its close, And sunbeams fade along the wall, I find the sun was in the room, Not in my lines and tints at all. " So, though the sunshine be so sweet, So passing fair to heart and sight, I would my studio looked due North, That I might read my work aright. " If in the North-light cool and pure The pictured scenes with summer shine, I know the sun is in the work, The warmth and glow are truly mine. " But in the sunshine's glamour fair, The colors show not truthful -wise ; And for Art's sake, I well can spare All sun, all shine, that cheat my eyes." // was the Gospel for the Day, And haply fell in fertile mould ;— " My heart and life," she mused, " seem warm ; Now, would the North-light prove them cold ? THE GOSPEL FOR THE DAY. ioi " A temper sweet, a smiling face, — Hands not much soiled by shame and sin,— How much is due to sunny ways ? How much to light and strength within ? "Should Sorrow pierce me through and through, Should riches flee on sudden wings, Would heart and smile keep warm and true With joy from still untroubled springs ? •i Nay,— more » — while yet the sunshine falls Within my life's large room, must I, For sake of better work, be fain To shut that brightness from my sky ?— ,; To turn my back on pleasure's sun, And hours of dainty ease resign, That so my life with warmer love And richer light may inly shine ! " For Art, and not for God ?— Ah, me ! Why was the sunshine made so bright ? Why are the children of the world Wiser than children of the light ? " So from the artist's sunny room, Slow down the shadowy stair she goes, Within herself still questioning. "The answer ? "—That God only knows. 102 JUDGE NOT. JUDGE NOT. i Kings, xviii. 22. Where we but see the darkness of the mine, God sees the diamond shine. Where we can only clustering leaves behold, He sees the bud they fold. Where we can only threatening clouds descry, He sees the hidden sky. Dark is the glass through which we see each other ; We may not judge a brother. We only see the rude and outer strife ; God knows the inner life. Where we our voice in condemnation raise, God may see fit to praise ; And those, from whom, like Pharisees, we shrink, With Christ may eat and drink. WAITING. 103 WAITING. ,rc I Lord of my nights and day Let my desire be, Not to be rid of earth, But nearer Thee. If I may nearer draw- Through lengthened grief and pain, Then, to continue here, Must be my gain ; Till I have strengthened been To take a wider grasp Of that eternal Life, I long to clasp ; Till I am so refined, I can the glory bear Of that excess of joy, I thirst to share ; Till I am meet to gaze On uncreated Light, Transformed, and perfected, By that new sight. 104 MY VESPER SONG. Sorrow's long lesson o'er, Death's discipline gone through, Thou wilt unfold to me What joy can do. Glad souls are on the wing, From earth to heaven they flee ; At last Thine hour will come To send for me. Reveal the mighty love That binds Thy heart to mine ; Thy counsels and my will Should intertwine. Lord of my heart and hopes ! Let my desire be Not to be rid of earth, But one with Thee. MY VESPER SONG. Filled with weariness and pain, Scarcely strong enough to pray, In this twilight hour I sit, Sit and sing my doubt away. MY VESPER SONG. 105 O'er my broken purposes, E'er the coming shadows roll, Let me build a bridge of song, "Jesus, lover of my soul, 11 Let me to thy bosom fly ; " How the words my thoughts repeat ; To thy bosom, Lord, I come, Though unfit to kiss thy feet. Once I gathered sheaves for thee, Dreaming I could hold them fast, Now I can but idly sing, 11 Oh, receive my soul at last." I am weary of my fears, Like a child when night comes on ; In the shadow, Lord, I sing, "Leave, oh leave me not alone." Through the tears I still must shed, Through the evil yet to be, Though I falter while 1 sing, 11 Still support and comfort me." " All my trust on thee is stayed ;" Does the rhythm of the song Softly falling on my heart, Make its pulses firm and strong? I06 . MY VESPER SONG. Or is this thy perfect peace, Now descending while I sing ? That my soul may sleep to-night, " 'Neath the shadow of thy wing.' "Thou of life the fountain art," If I slumber on thy breast, If I sing myself to sleep, Sleep and death alike are rest. Through the shadows overpast, Through the shadows yet to be, Let the ladder of my song " Rise to all eternity." Note by note its silver bars May my soul in love ascend, Till I reach the highest round, \w thy kingdom without end. Not impatiently I sing, Though I lift my hands and cry, "Jesus, lover of my soul, Let me to thy bosom fly.'' IF THOU COULD ST KNOW. 107 IF THOU COULUST 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. Io8 MY PR A YER. DEATH. Death ! since thy darksome mist Encircled the all-glorious head of Christ, Thou now dost shine A halo all divine. MY PRAYER. WHY should my prayings oft In narrow channels run ? — "Give me of this or that, Less shadow, more of sun ! '' I know that all my ways In ordered sequence go; I know that Love Divine Appoints my bloom and snow; I know that where I see In part, Thou seest the whole, That time and life and death Are in Thy wise control. THANKSGIVING. 109 How should my blindness then To prompt Thy goodness dare ? Henceforth, in good or ill, Be this my humble prayer. — " Grant me to ask from life No more than life can give ; Grant me to lose in death Nausfht but this life I live.'' THANKSGIVING. I. Thanks be to God ! to whom earth owes Sunshine and breeze, The heath-clad hill, the vale's repose, Streamlet and seas, The snowdrop and the summer rose, The many-voiced trees. II Thanks for the darkness that reveals Night's starry dower ; And for the sable cloud that heals Each fevered flower ; And for the rushing storm that peals Our weakness and Thy power. 1 1 o THA NKSGI VING. III. Thanks for the sweetly-lingering might In music's tone ; For paths of knowledge, whose calm light Is all Thine own ; For thoughts that at the Infinite Fold their bright wings alone. IV. Yet thanks that silence oft may flow In dew-like store ; Thanks for the mysteries that show How small our lore ; Thanks that we here so little know, And trust Thee all the more. Thanks for the gladness that entwines Our path below ; Each sunrise that incarnadines The cold, still snow ; Thanks for the light of love, that shines With brightest earthly glow. VI. Thanks for the sickness and the grief That none may llee ; 1 1 1 JESU DULCIS MEMORIA. For loved ones standing now around The crystal sea ; And for the weariness of heart That only rests in Thee. VII. Thanks for Thine own thrice-blessed Word, And Sabbath rest ; Thanks for the hope of glory stored In mansions blest, And for the Spirit's comfort poured Into the trembling breast. VIII. Thanks, more than thanks, to Him ascend, Who died to win Our life, and every trophy rend From Death and Sin ; Till, when the thanks of earth shall end, The thanks of heaven begin. JESU DULCIS MEMORIA. JESU ! the very thought ot Thee With sweetness fills my breast ; But sweeter far Thy face to see, And in Thy presence rest. 112 THE PERFECT WILL OF GOD. 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. THE PERFECT WILL OF GOD. As from the bow'd-down branches of the trees Snow in the sunshine melteth by degrees, Leaving them free to rise Once more towards the skies ; So, in the brightness of Thy glance divine, May sin melt swiftly from this soul of mine. THE TOUCH OF THE UNSEEN. 113 LOVE'S QUESTIONINGS. Still on the lips of all we question The finger of God's silence lies. Shall the lost hands in ours be folded ? Will the shut eyelids ever rise ? O friends ! no proof beyond this yearning, This outreach of our souls, we need : God will not mock the hope He giveth ; No love He prompts shall vainly plead. Then let us stretch our hands in darkness, And call our loved ones o'er and o'er: Some time their arms shall close about us, And the old voices speak once more. THE TOUCH OF THE UNSEEN. As feel the flowers the sun in heaven, But sky and sunlight never see ; So feel I Thee, O God, my God, Thv dateless noontide hid from me. 114 THE TOUCH OF 7'HE UA'SEEN. As touch the buds the blessed rain, But rain and rainbow never see ; So touch I God, in bliss or pain, His far, vast rainbow veiled from me. Orion, moon and sun and bow Amaze a sky unseen by me ; God's wheeling heaven is there, I know, Although its arch I cannot see. In low estate, I, as the flower, Have nerves to feel, not eyes to see ; The subtlest in the conscience is Thyself, and that which toucheth Thee. Forever it may be that I More yet shall feel, but shall not see Above my soul Thy wholeness roll Not visibly, but tangibly. But flaming heart to rain and ray, Turn I in meekest loyalty ; I breathe, and move, and live in Thee, And drink the ray I cannot see. THE HEM OF HIS GARMENT. O God of Calvary and Bethlehem, Thou who did'st suffer rather than condemn, Grant me to touch Thy garment's healing hem! Thou trailest Thy fair robes of seamless light Through this dark world of misery and night ; Its blackness cannot mar Thy spotless white. Thou dost not, Master, as we pass Thee by, Draw in Thy robes lest we should come too nigh ; We see no scorn in Thine all-sinless eye. There is no shrinking even from our touch ; Thy tenderness to us is ever such, It can endure and suffer much. EASTER THOUGHTS FOR EASTER FLOWERS. Easter blossoms, honeyed blossoms, gathered here in holy places, Rich in odor, warm in color, how ye shame us by your graces ! Ii6 EASTER FLOWERS. If our lives were plucked this morning, for an offering on this altar (How the thought goes through and through us, how our tongues 'mid praises falter !)— Void of fragrance, void of honey, void of lovely form and color, Ah, how pallid they would seem there, in your brightness growing- duller !— Ah, how scentless they would lie there, 'mid your wealth of perfume-treasure ! Ah, how quickly they would die there, in His glance's stern displeasure ! Spare them, Lord, a little longer, by the might of Christ's dear graces, Through Thy sunshine and Thy rainfall to grow sweeter in their places,— Rich with faith's enshrined honey, warm with love's heart-crimsoned splendor, Bright with hope's undying verdure, sweet with scent of meekness tender :— So, when Easter cometh newly, filling U p the year's completeness, Lives of ours beside the flowers shall not seem all void of sweetness ! HER UP THE ERA CM EXES." 117 LIFE'S TAPESTRY. Too long have I, methought, with tearful eye Pored^o'er this tangled work of mine, and mused Above each stitch awry and thread confused; Now will I think on what in years gone by I heard of them that weave rare tapestry At royal looms ; and how they constant use To work on the rough side, and still peruse The pictured pattern set above them high. So will I set my copy high above, And gaze and gaze till on my spirit grows Its gracious impress ; till some line of love Transferred upon my canvas, faintly glows ; Nor look too much on warp and woof, provide He whom I work for sees their fairer side ! -GATHER i:P THE FRAGMENTS." What life art thou living ? A life of giving.— Not of mere ^oV\v\\ store, But more— much more ? Ii8 "GATHER UP THE FRAGMENTS: Is it a shelter ? Doth it impart Love, rest, and thankfulness Unto one heart ? Is it a wilderness, Harsh and severe, Those who pass over it Feeling- "How drear?" Is it a simple life, Soft to the touch,— Not one of many words, But of " love much ? " Or doth base selfishness Lurk, as thine aim, Through all thy usefulness ? Tremble with shame ! Is thine a grateful life, True in its tone- Yielding in thankfulness What God hath sown,— Sounding an echo meek (Heard through the strife- Trembling, indeed, and weak) Of the Great Life? THIRTY-FOLD. 119 If so, thy life may be Humble, unknown : Yet it is leading thee Up to a throne. THIRTY-FOLD. "SOME sixty,— some an hundred :"— Why Should not such reckoning have been mine? The seed itself was as divine, The quickening power as strong : yet I Bear witness to the increase told — " Some, thirty-fold." And was the fallow-ground prepared By patient mellowing of the clod, And were the precious rains of God, So often by the furrow shared, To yield, with sunshine's added gold, But thirty-fold ? And yet the tiller watched the growth, And lopped with constant care away The noxious tares that, day by day, My heart-soil nurtured, nothing loath Thereby the stinted gain to hold To thirty-fold. 120 THE BEAUTY OF HOLINESS. The strengthening of the winter frost Was not denied, thro' which the root Might strike with deeper, downward shoot And back and forth the blade was tost ; Yet what the count when all is told ? Just thirty-fold ! The Master's lowest measure '—When He walks his field another year, To guard and gauge the ripening ear, Pray Heaven he may not find again, That mine lifts upward from the mould Still thirty-fold ! O Sower of the seed divine, Make it " an hundred ! "—Nevermore May I be shamed in counting o'er, Amid the swath, these grains of mine, To see the harvest handsel hold But thirty-fold ! THE BEAUTY OF HOLINESS. I LOVE Thy skies and sunny mists, Thy fields, Thy mountains hoar' Thy wind that bloweth where it lists,— Thy will, I love it more. CALVARY. 121 I love Thy hidden truth to seek All round, in sea, on shore, The arts whereby like God we speak.— Thy will to me is more. I love Thy men and women, Lord, The children round Thy door, Calm thoughts that inward strength afford,— Thy will, O Lord, is more. But when Thy will my life doth hold, Thine to the very core, The world, which that same will did mould, I shall love ten times more. CALVARY. John, xviti. 3 2 - Yea, all the paths of earth lead up to thee, O Calvary ! The sad, the pleasant, The bond and free, The prince and peasant, As equals meet around thy tree. The past and present Merged into one are found Upon thy holy ground. 122 EMPTINESS, Darkness and light Are on Christ's left and on His right, But we ourselves must place In judgment or in grace. We may in darkness stand, Or kneel at His right hand! Unheeding of His wistful cry, We cannot pass Christ by ; ' W 7 e must "Hosanna " sing, or " Crucify,'* Confess Him or deny. EMPTINESS. " Yet, spite of all, some good work thou hast wrought In moments snatched from pain's persistent sway, Some fair fruits plucked along thy thorny way, Some pleasant sheaves from scattered -rain- rows caught. Not empty-handed quite shalt thou be brought Before the King, but worthy gifts to lay At His dear feet." "Sweet friends, I tell you, Nay. THE SECRET OF A HAPPY DA V. 123 Not thus before His throne I stand in thought, But dumbly holding forth these empty hands Full in His sight. Think you He will not know With what long, weary, wasting, bitter stress Of hope deferred, what precious aims and plans Successive crossed, what cherished pride brought low, What pain, what loss, I bought that empti- ness ? " THE SECRET OF A HAPPY DAY. JUST to let the Father do What He will ; Just to know that He is true, And be still. Just to follow hour by hour Where He leadeth ; Just to draw the moment's power As it needeth. — Just to trust Him, this is all ! Then the day will surely be Peaceful, whatsoe'er befall, Bright and blessed, calm and free. I 24 THE SECRET OF A HAPP Y DA V. Just to let Him speak to thee Through His Word, Watching, that His voice may be Clearly heard. Just to tell Him everything As it rises, And at once to bring to Him All surprises. Just to listen, and to stay Where you cannot miss His voice,— This is all ! and thus to-day Communing, you shall rejoice. Just to ask Him what to do All the day, And to make you quick and true To obey. Just to know the needed grace He bestoweth, Every bar of time and place Overfloweth. Just to take thy orders straight From the Master's own command ;— Blessed day ! when thus we wait Always at our Sovereign's hand. Just to recollect His love- Always true, THE SECRET OF A *APP Y DA V. 125 Always shining from above, Always new. Just to recognize its light, All-enfolding ; Just to claim its present might, All-upholding. Just to know it as thine own, That no power can take away ;— Is not this enough alone For the gladness of the day ? Just to trust, and yet to ask Guidance still, — Take the training or the task, As He will. Just to take the loss or gain, As He sends it ; Justto take the joy or pain, As He lends it. He who formed thee for His praise Will not miss the gracious aim,— So to-day, and all thy days, Shall be moulded for the same. Just to leave in His dear hand Little things,— All we cannot understand, All that stings. 126 ALUS WELL. Just to let Him take the care Sorely pressing, Finding all we let Him bear Changed to blessing. This is all ! and yet the way Marked by Him who loves thee best,- Secret of a happy day, Secret of His promised rest. ALL'S WELL. The day is ended. Ere I sink to sleep, My weary spirit seeks repose in Thine ; Father, forgive my trespasses, and keep This little life of mine. With loving kindness curtain Thou my bed, And cool in rest my burning pilgrim feet ; Thy pardon be the pillow for my head, So shall my rest be sweet. At peace with all the world, clear Lord, and Thee, No fears my soul's unwavering faith can shake ; All's well whichever side the grave for me The morning light may break. 'LITTLE WHILE"— " FOREVER." 127 THE PAINTING. Set a painting in a certain light, Only a daub seems there ; But let the artist find the shade aright, It showeth fair. And thus Cnrist taketh care To scan Our dark and bright, As He, He only, can, Who is the Maker, Son, and Judge, of Man. "A LITTLE WHILE" AND "FOREVER." " Forever " they are fading, Our beautiful, our bright ; They gladden us " a little while," Then pass away from sight ; " A little while " we're parted From those who love us best ; Who gain the goal before us, And enter into rest. Our path grows very lonely, And still those words beguile And cheer our footsteps onward,— 'Tis but " a little while,"— 128 "LITTLE WHILE"— « FOREVER. "A little while" earth's sorrows, Its burdens and its care ; Its struggles 'neath the crosses Which we of earth must bear. There's time to do and suffer, To work our Master's will, But not for vain regretting, For thoughts or deeds of ill. Too short to spend in weeping O'er broken hopes or flowers, Or wandering or wasting, Is this strange life of ours. Though when our cares oppress us, Earth's " little while" seems long, If we would win the battle, We must be brave and strong; That so with humble spirit, But highest hopes and aim, The goal so often longed for We may perhaps attain ; — "Forever" and " Forever" To dwell among the blest, Where sorrows never trouble The deep, eternal rest ; NIGHT-SONG. 129 Where one by one we gather Beneath our Father's smile ; And Heaven's sweet " forever ? ' Drowns earth's sad " little while ! " -REJOICE WITH THEM THAT DO REJOICE, AND WEEP WITH THEM THAT WEEP." If thou art blest, Then let the sunshine of thy gladness rest On the dark edges of each cloud that lies Black in thy brother's skies. If thou art sad, Still be thou in thy brother's gladness glad. NIGHT-SONG. Slow, stealing steps of moonlight white Glide noiselessly about my bed ; I wake from slumbers soft and light, To think for me Thy blood was shed— Thy loving heart its life-blood shed, o 130 NIGHT-SONG. In weary paths of human pain, Thy patient feet went to and fro, To make the way for me more plain, And in their track sweet blossoms grow — Rare, healing balms and blossoms grow, Sleep from Thine anguished spirit fled, That mine in happy peace may rest ; Thou had'st not where to lay Thy head, That I may slumber on Thy breast — Softly and safely on Thy breast. Thy heart was pierced with scoff and sneer, Thy lips endured the traitor's kiss, Thy friends forsook Thy side in fear, That I Thy love may never miss — Thy love unfailing may not miss. On Thee Death all his terrors spent, And henceforth waits — a friendly shade — To show me where Thy footsteps went, And lead me after unafraid — To follow Thee, Lord, not afraid. And still, upon Thy throne eterne, For human woe and sin and need Thy heart doth with compassion burn, Thy nail-scarred hands uplifted plead — Thy kingly lips for me do plead. THE LOVE OE GOD. 131 So while the silent moonbeans weave A silver halo round my sleep, Let no ill dreams my heart aggrieve — I know Thy love my soul will keep— Thy mighty love my soul will keep. THE LOVE OF GOD. Like a cradle rocking, rocking, Silent, peaceful, to and fro- Like a mother's sweet looks dropping On the little face below— Hangs the green earth, swinging, turning Jarless, noiseless, safe and slow- Falls the light of God's face bending Down and watching us below. And, as feeble babes that suffer, Toss and cry, and will not rest, Are the ones the tender mother Holds the closest, loves the best- So when we are weak and wretched, By our sins weighed down, distressed- Then it is that God's great patience Holds us closest, loves us best. l 3 2 OFFERINGS. O great Heart of God ! whose loving Cannot hindered be nor crossed; Will not weary, will not even In our death itself be lost — Love divine ! of such great loving, Only mothers knov the cost — Cost of love, which all love passing, Gave a Son to save the lost. "GREAT IS THY FAITH." Faith is a grasping of Almighty power ; The hand of man laid on the arm of God ; — The grand and blessed hour In which the things impossible to me Become the possible, O Lord, through Thee. OFFERINGS. Lord, I had planned to do Thee service true, To be more humbly watchful unto prayer, More faithful in obedience to Thy Word, More bent to put away all earthly care. OFFERINGS. I S3 I thought of sad hearts comforted and healed, Of wanderers turned into the pleasant way, Of little ones preserved from sin and snare, Of dark homes brightened with a heavenly ray ; Of time all consecrated to Thy will, Of strength spent gladly for Thee, day by day,- When suddenly the mandate came That I should give it all, at once, away. Thy blessed Hand came forth, and laid me down, Turned every beating pulse to throbs of pain. Hushed all my prayers into one feeble cry, Then bade me to believe that loss was gam. And was it loss to have indulged such hopes ?- Nay they were gifts from out the Inner Shr.ne,- Garl'ands that I might hang about Thy Cross, Gems to surrender at the call Divme. As chiselled image unresisting lies In niche by its own Sculptor's hand designed, So to my unemployed and silent life, Let me in quiet meekness be resigned. Thou art our Pattern, '3 the end of time, O Crucified ! and perfect is Thy Will. The workers follow Thee in doing good ; The helpless think of Calvary- and are Still. J 34 HOPE IN TROUBLE. HOPE IN TROUBLE. When musing Sorrow weeps the past, And mourns the present pain, Tis sweet to think of peace at last, And feel that death is gain. 'Tis not that murmuring thoughts arise, And dread a Father's will; 'Tis not that meek submission flies, And would not suffer still ; — It is that heaven -born Faith surveys The path that leads to light, And longs her eagle-plumes to raise, And lose herself in sight. It is that Hope with ardor glows To see Him face to face, Whose dying love no language knows Sufficient art to trace. MY FRIEND, 1 35 MY FRIEXD. At set of sun, Through musing's dun, A knock broke on my startled ear, A voice said, sweet and silvern clear, — 11 Open, a Friend is at thy door." I answered slow, — " Xo friends I know, Nor trust in friendship any more, — Friends sting and flay, Friends go their way, And leave one lonelier than before. Better to dwell apart, Keeping an empty heart, Than see love's smile become hate's frown, — Better a stirless gloom, Shut in a silent room, Than ghosts slow-gliding up and clown." Again the sweet voice came, — " Yet open all the same, For I have need of thee, Though thou hast none of me, — 136 MY FRIEND. I hunger, thirst, am naked, sick, and poor ; The weary sun is set, My locks with dews are wet, My face with tears, — I pray thee, ope thy door." Such plea I could not choose Unpitying to refuse, Yet half-reluctant still the bars I drew, Gave food and wine, Garments of mine Mended and cleansed to look like new, — Nay, more, as love with labor grew, And patient use brought skill, Turned nurse with right good will ; — Lastly, my scanty purse did part With him who so had won my heart. O wondrous change and rare ! In royal garments drest, Not suppliant, but KING, stood there, And clasped me to His breast, — Not guest, but Host, Who, in his turn, ied me at dearest cost,— Not pensioner, but Friend — A Friend at sorest need, Of kindest word and deed, — And best of all, a Friend, Whose love flows on and on, and knows no end. WIN NO WING. '37 WINNOWING. Thouiuinncnucst (marg. reading) my path and my lying d