■^ 
 
 TpL 
 
+ 
 
 ' I 
 
 1. 
 
THE ^--^"^^ 
 
 Changed Cross. 
 
 AND THE 
 
 SHADOW OF THE ROCK. 
 
 RELIGIOUS POEMS SELECTED FROM 
 MANY SOURCES. 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 
 ANSON I). F. RANDOLPH & CU., 
 No 77 BROADWAY- 
 

 
 ^ 
 

 THE 
 
 Changed Cross. 
 
 Other Religious Poems. 
 
 
-tfj — ^ 
 
 The great favor which a part oF the fol- 
 lowing selections had met in the form of 
 " Leaflets for Letters," induced the Publisher, 
 some few years ago, to gather them in a vol- 
 ume that has found a wide circulation. The 
 present is a new and enlarged edition. As 
 the poems are mainly waifs, gathered from 
 magazines and newspapers, it has not been 
 possible, except in a few instances, to ascer- 
 tain the names of the writers. 
 
 New -York, March, 1865. 
 
 ■»li -jf*- 
 
: Jl'.l '| « J«L » H«|H( I J 1 
 
 n- 
 
 j:p" 
 
u 
 
 MtMM 
 
 The Chanqed Gross, 
 
 XSD 
 
 Other Religious Poems. 
 
 IT was a time of sadness, and my heart, 
 Althougli it knew and loved the better part, 
 Felt wearied with the conflict and the strife, 
 And all the needful discipline of life. 
 
 And while I thought on these, as given to me — ■ 
 My trial tests of faith and love to be — 
 It seemed as if I never could be sure 
 That faithful to the end I should endure. 
 
 And thus, no longer trusting to His might 
 Who says, " We walk by faith, and not by sight," 
 Doubting, and almost yielding to despair, 
 The thought arose — My cross I cannot bear : 
 
 Far heavier its weight must surely be 
 Than those of others which I daily see. 
 Oh ! if I rain;ht another burden choose, 
 Methiiiks I should not fear my crown to lose. 
 
-* — % 
 
 TffB CHAXGED CROSS. 
 
 A solemn silence reigned on all around — 
 E'en Nature's voices uttered not a sound ; 
 The evening shadows seemed of peace to tell, 
 And sleep upon my weary spirit fell. 
 
 A moment's pause — and then a heavenly light 
 Beamed full upon my wondering, raptured sight 
 Angels on silvery wings seemed everywhere, 
 And angels' music thrilled the balmy air. 
 
 Then One, more fair than all the rest to see — 
 One to whom all the others bowed the knee — 
 Came gently to me as I trembling lay. 
 And, " Follow me 1" He said ; " I am the Way." 
 
 Then, speaking thus. He led me far above, 
 And there, beneath a canopy of love, 
 Crosses of divers shape and size were seen. 
 Larger and smaller than my own had been. 
 
 And one there was, most beauteous to behold, 
 A little one, with jewels set in gold. 
 Ah ! this, methought, I can with comfort wear, 
 For it will be an easy one to bear : 
 
 And so the little cross I quickly took ; 
 But, all at once, my frame beneath it shook. 
 The sparkbng jewels fair were they to see, 
 But far too heavy was their weir/ht for mc. 
 
 n 
 
4^- % 
 
 THE GUANOED CROSS. 
 
 " This may not be," I cried, and looked again, 
 To see if there was any here could ease my pain ; 
 Uut, one by one, I passed them slowly by, 
 Till on a lovely one I cast my eye. 
 
 Fair flowers around its sculptured form entwined, 
 And grace and beauty seemed in it combined. 
 Wondering, I gazed ; and still I wondered more 
 To think so many should have jDassed it o'er. 
 
 But oh ! that form so beautiful to see 
 Soon made its hidden sorrows known to me ; 
 Thorns lay beneath those flowers and colors fair 1 
 Sorrowing, I said : " This cross I may not bear." 
 
 And so it was with each and all around — 
 Not one to suit my need could tliere be found ; 
 Weeping, I laid each heavy burden down. 
 As my Guide gently said : " No cross, no crown !" 
 
 At length, to Him I raised my saddened heart : 
 lie knew its soitows, bid its doubts depart. 
 '• Be not afraid," He said, " but trust in me — 
 My perfect love shall now be shown to thee." 
 
 And then, with lightened eyes and willing feet, 
 Again I turned, my earthly cross to meet, 
 With forward footsteps, turning not aside, 
 For fear some hidden e^il might betide ; 
 
8 THE CHANGED CROSS. 
 
 And there — In the prepared, appointed way, 
 Listening to hear, and ready to obey — 
 A cross I qiU'ckly found of plainest form, 
 With only words of love inscribed thereon. 
 
 With thankfulness I raised it from the rest, 
 And joyfully acknowledged it the best — 
 The only one of all the many there 
 That I could feel was good for me to bear. 
 
 And, while I thus my chosen one confessed, 
 I saw a heavenly brightness on it rest ; 
 And, as I bent, my burden to sustain, 
 I recognized my own old cross again. 
 
 But oh ! how different did it seem to bo 
 Now I had learned its preciousness to see I 
 No longer could 1 unbelieving say, 
 Perhaps another Is a better way. 
 
 Ah no ! henceforth my own desire shall be, 
 That lie who knows me best should choose for mo 
 And so, whate'er His love sees good to send, 
 I'll trust it's best, because He knows th.e end. 
 
 •' For my thoughts are not your thoughts, saith the Lord."— 
 Isaiah 50 : 8. 
 
 " For I knoTT the thoughts that I think towards you — thoughts 
 of peace, and not of evil, to give you an expected end." — 
 Jer. 29 : 11. 
 
 And when that happy time shall come, of endless peace and rest, 
 We shall look back upon our path, and say : It was the best. 
 
 Tfi — qr 
 

 k 
 
 THE MEETIKQ-PLAOE. % 
 
 THE MEETING-PLACE, 
 
 WHERE the faded flower shall freshen, 
 Freshen never more to fade ; 
 Where the shaded sky shall brighten, 
 
 Brighten never more to shade ; 
 Where the sun-blaze never scorches ; 
 
 Where the star-beams cease to chill ; 
 Where no tempest stirs the echoes 
 
 Of the wood, or wave, or hill ; 
 Where the morn shall wake in gladness, 
 
 And the moon the joy prolong ; 
 Where the daylight dies in fragrance 
 
 'Md the burst of holy song — 
 Brother, we shall meet and rest 
 'Md the holy and the blest. 
 
 Where no shadow shall bewilder ; 
 
 Where life's vain parade is o'er ; 
 Where the sleep of sin is broken, 
 
 And the dreamer dreams no more ; 
 Where the bond is never severed — 
 
 Partings, claspings, sobs, and moan, 
 ISiidnight waking, twilight weeping, 
 
 Heavy noontide — all are done ; 
 Where the child has found its mother, 
 
 Where the mother finds the child; 
 
 
1^ 
 
 10 THE MEETINt^-PLAOE. 
 
 Where dear families are gathered 
 
 That were scattered on the wild — 
 Brother, we shall meet and rest 
 'Md the holy and the blest. 
 
 Where the hidden wound is healed ; 
 
 Where the blighted light re-blooms ; 
 Where the smitten heart the freshness 
 
 Of its buoyant youth resumes ; 
 Where the love that here we lavish 
 
 On the withering leaves of time, 
 Shall have fadeless flowers to fix on, 
 
 In an ever spring-bright clime ; 
 Where we find the joy of loving, 
 
 As we never loved before ; 
 Loving on unchilled, unhindered, 
 
 Loving once and evermore — 
 Brother, we shall meet and rest 
 ']\Iid the holy and the blest. 
 
 Where a blasted world shall brighten 
 
 Underneath a bluer sphere. 
 And A softer, gentler sunshine 
 
 Shed its healing splendor here ; 
 Where earth's barren vales shall blossom, 
 
 Putting on their robe of green, 
 And a purer, fairer Eden 
 
 Be where only wastes have been ; 
 
 ^ 
 
 
 taaimmimmmm 
 
jtj '■ 1±+ 
 
 TITE PILGRIM. U 
 
 Where a Kiug, in kingly glory 
 
 Such as earth has never known, 
 Shall assume the righteous sceptre, 
 
 Claim and wear the heavenly crown- 
 Brother, we shall meet and rest 
 'Mid the holy and the blest. 
 
 THE PILGRIM. 
 
 STILL onward through this land of foca 
 I pass in Pilgrim guise ; 
 I may not stop to seek repose ; 
 "Where cool the shadow lies 
 I may not stoop amid the grass 
 
 To pluck earth's fairest flowers. 
 Nor by her springing fountains pass 
 The sultry noontide hours ; 
 
 Yet flowers I wear upon my breast 
 
 That no earth-garden knows — 
 White lilies of immortal peace, 
 
 And love's deep-tinted rose ; 
 And there the blue-eyed flowers of faith, 
 
 And hope's bright buds of gold, 
 As lone I tread the upward path, 
 
 In richest hues unfold, 
 
 71 _ n 
 
*^ 
 
 12 THE PILGRIM. 
 
 tt 
 
 I keep my armor ever on, 
 
 For foes beset my way ; 
 X watch, lest passing on alone 
 
 I fall a helpless prey. 
 No earthly love have I — ^I lean 
 
 Upon no mortal breast ; 
 But my Beloved, though unseen, 
 
 Walks near and gives me rest. 
 
 Afar, around, I often see, 
 
 Throughout this desert wide. 
 His Pilgrims pressing on like me — 
 
 They often pass my side : 
 The kindly smile, the gentle word, 
 
 For Jesus' sake I give ; 
 But love — O Thou alone adored I 
 
 For Thee alone I live. 
 
 Painful and dark the pathway seems 
 
 To distant earthly eyes ; 
 They only see the hedging thorns 
 
 On either side that rise ; 
 They can not know how soft between 
 
 The flowers of love are strewn — 
 Tbe sunny ways, the pastures green. 
 
 Where Jesus leads His own ; 
 
 They cannot see, as darkening clouds 
 Behind the Pilgrim close, 
 

 ffOLY TEARS. IS 
 
 How far adown the western glade 
 
 The golden glory flows ; 
 They cannot hear 'mid earthly din 
 
 The son"; to Pilo;nms known, 
 Still blending with the angels' hyrnu 
 
 Around the wondrous throne. 
 
 So I, Thy bounteous token-flowers 
 
 Still on my bosom wear ; 
 While me, the fleeting love-winged hem's 
 
 To Thee still nearer bear ; 
 So from my lips Thy song shall flow, 
 
 My sweetest music be ; 
 So on mine eyes the glory grow, 
 
 Till all Is lost in Thee. 
 
 HOLY TEARS. 
 
 YES, thou may'st weep, for Jesus shed 
 Such tears as those thou sheddest now. 
 When, for the living or the dead, 
 Sorrow lay heavy on his brow. 
 
 He sees thee weep, yet doth not blame 
 The weakness of thy flesh and heart 5 
 
 Thy human nature is the same 
 As that in which he took a part. 
 
 .^ f I — — 1 ■ ■ ' * "I" 
 
tfj ~~^ 
 
 14 HOLY TEARS. 
 
 lie knoT^s its weakness, for he felt 
 The crushing power of pain and woe, 
 
 How body, soul, and spirit melt 
 
 And faint beneath the stunning: blow. 
 
 "What if poor sinners count thv grief 
 The sign of an unchastened will ? 
 
 lie who can give thy soul relief. 
 Knows that thou art submissive still. 
 
 Turn thee to Him, to Him alone ; 
 
 For all that our poor lips can say 
 To soothe thee, broken-hearted one, 
 
 "Would fail to comfort thee to-day. 
 
 "We will not speak to thee, but sit 
 In prayerful silence by thy side : 
 
 Grief has its ebbs and flows ; 'tis fit 
 Our love should wait the ebbinof title, 
 
 Jesus Himself will comfort thee. 
 In His own time, in His own way ; 
 
 And haply more than " two or three" 
 Unite in prayer for thee to-day. 
 
 "T^ — rp" 
 
+J — —\±^ 
 
 WHOLLY EESIG^TED. 15 
 
 QOB OUR STRENGTH. 
 
 MAN, in his weakness, needs a stronger stay 
 Than fellow-men, the holiest and the best : 
 And yet we turn to them from day to day, 
 As if in them our spirits could find rest. 
 
 Gently untwine our childish hands, that cling 
 To such inadequate supports as these, 
 
 And shelter us beneath Thy heavenly wing, 
 Till we have learned to walk alone with ease. 
 
 Help us, O Lord ! with patient love to bear 
 Each other's faults, to suffer with true meekness 
 
 Help us each other's joys and griefs to share, 
 But let us turn to Thee alone in weakness. 
 
 ^WHOLLY RESIGNED. 
 
 CHE-IST leads us through no darker rooms 
 Than he went through before : 
 He that into God's kingdom comes, 
 
 Must enter by this door : 
 Come, Lord, when grace hath made mc meet 
 
 Thy blessed face to see, 
 For if Thy work on earth be sweet, 
 What will Thy glory be ! 
 
 ^ rf- 
 
 nni» 
 
J^+J— ' — — 1+ 
 
 1 6 " MY TIMES ARE IJ^ THY UANDy 
 
 Tlien I shall end my sad complaints, 
 
 And weary, sinful days ; 
 And join with the triumphant saints. 
 
 That sing Jehovah's praise : 
 My knowledge of that life is small, 
 
 The eye of faith is dim, 
 But 'tis enough that Christ knows all, 
 
 And I shall be with Ilim. 
 
 "JfF TIMES ARE IN THY HAND,"* 
 Psalm 81 : 15. 
 
 FATHER, I know that all my life 
 Is portioned out for me ; 
 And the changes that are sure to come, 
 
 I do not fear to see ; 
 But I ask Thee for a present mind 
 Intent on pleasing Thee. 
 
 I ask Thee for a thankful love, 
 Through constant watching wise, 
 
 To meet the glad with joyful smiles, 
 And to wipe the weeping eyes, 
 
 And a heart at leisure from itself, 
 To soothe and sympathize. 
 
 -JV" 
 
^ 
 
 *^MY TIMES ARE IN THY HAND:' 
 
 17 
 
 I would not have the restless will 
 
 That hurries to and fro, 
 Seeking for some great thing to do, 
 
 Or secret thing to know ; 
 I would be dealt with as a child, 
 
 And guided where to go. 
 
 AVherever In the world I am, 
 
 In whatsoe'er estate, 
 I have a fellowship with hearts. 
 
 To keep and cultivate ; 
 And a work of holy love to do, 
 
 For the Lord on whom I wait. 
 
 I ask Thee for the daily strength, 
 
 To none that ask denied ; 
 And a mind to blend with outward life, 
 
 'While keeping at Thy side ; 
 Content to fill a little space, 
 
 If Thou be glorified. 
 
 And if some things I do not ask. 
 
 In my cup of blessing be, 
 1 would have my spirit filled the more 
 
 With grateful love to Thee — 
 More careful than to serve Thee much, 
 
 To please Thee perfectly. 
 
 There are briers besetting every path, 
 That call for patient care ; 
 
4±r — ~ii 
 
 18 THE BORDER-LANDS. 
 
 TLere is a crook in every lot, 
 
 And a need for earnest prayer ; 
 But a lowly heart that leans on Thee, 
 
 Is happy everywJliere. 
 
 In a service that Thy love appoints, 
 
 There are no bonds for mc, 
 For my secret heart is taught the truth 
 
 That makes Thy children " free j" 
 And a life of self-renouncinjr love 
 
 Is a life of liberty. 
 
 THE BORDER-LANDS. 
 
 FATHER, into Thy loving hands 
 My feeble spirit I commit, 
 While wandering in these Border-Lands, 
 Until Thy voice shall summon it. 
 
 Father, I would not dare to choose 
 A longer life, an earlier death ; 
 
 I know not what my soul might lose 
 By shortened or protracted breath. 
 
 These Border-Lands are calm and still, 
 And solemn are their sUent shades ; 
 
 And my heart welcomes them, until 
 The light of life's long evening fades. 
 
 tij BiSa 
 
4" % 
 
 the; BORDER-ZAmys. 10 
 
 I heard them spoken of with dread, 
 
 As fearful and unquiet places ; 
 Shades, where the living and the dead 
 
 Look sadly in each other's faces. 
 
 But since Thy hand' hath led me here. 
 And I have seen the Border-Land ; 
 
 Seen the dark river flowing near, 
 Stood on its brink, as now I stand, 
 
 There has been nothing to alarm 
 My trembling soul ; how could I fear 
 
 While thus enci.'cled with Thine arm ? 
 I never felt Thee half so near. 
 
 Wliat should appal me in a place 
 That brings me hourly nearer Thee ? 
 
 When I may almost see Thy face — 
 Surely 'tis here my soul would be. 
 
 They say the waves are dark and deep, 
 That faith has perished in the river ; 
 
 They speak of death with fear, and weep . 
 Shall my soul perish ? Never ! never ! 
 
 1 knoAv that Thou wilt never leave 
 The soul that trembles wliile it clin«s 
 
 o 
 
 To Thee : I know Thou Avilt achieve 
 Its passage on Thine outspread win^is. 
 
 ll i J 
 
 Tp Tp** 
 
20 
 
 % 
 
 ALL^ ALL IS KNOWN TO THEE:' 
 
 And since I first was bronglit so near 
 The stream that flows to the Dead Sea, 
 
 I think that it has grown more clear 
 And shallow than it used to he. 
 
 1 can not see the golden gate 
 Unfolding yet, to welcome me \ 
 
 I can not yet anticipate 
 
 The joy of heaven's jubilee \ 
 
 But I will camly watch and pray 
 Until I hear my Saviour's voice 
 
 CalUng my happy soul away, 
 To see his glory, and rejoice. 
 
 ''ALL, ALL JS iiTiVOIFiV TO THEE:' 
 
 "When my spirit was overwhelmed within me, tlien Thou 
 knewest my path." 
 
 *T\ IVY God, whose gracious pity I may claim, 
 _3JL Calling Thee Fathc-r — sweet, endearing 
 
 name ! 
 The S'ufTerings of this weak and weary frame, 
 All, all are known to Thee. 
 
 From human eye 'tis better to conceal 
 IMuch that I suffer, much I hourly feel ; 
 But oh ! the thoughl; does tranquillize and heal— 
 All, all is known to Thee. 
 
 ■TVMrrt"""" ' f 'tmrnoFr 
 
 f»'»'».'imf CTCTKV^^ ~* LZ 
 
 
■4h 
 
 •ALL, ALL IS KN-OWN TO THEE:' 21 
 
 Each secret conflict with indwcllino: sin, 
 Each sickening fear I ne'er the prize shall win, 
 Eacli pang from irritation, turmoil, din — 
 All, all are known to Thee. 
 
 When in the morning imrefreshed I wake, 
 Or in the night but little sleep can take, 
 T^liis brief appeal submissively I make- — 
 All, all is known to Tliee. 
 
 Nay, all by Thee is ordered, chosen, planned — 
 Each drop that fills my daily cup ; Thy hand 
 Prescribes for ills none else can understand. 
 All, all is known to Thee. 
 
 The effectual means to cure what I deplore ; 
 In me Thy longed-for likeness to restore ; 
 Self to dethrone, never to govern more — 
 All, all are known to Thee. 
 
 And this continued feebleness, this state 
 Which seems to unnerve and incapacitate. 
 Will work the cure my hopes and prayers await — 
 That can I leave to Thee. 
 
 Nor will the bitter draught distasteful prove, 
 'NVhen I recall the Sox of Thy dear love ; 
 The cup Thou wouldst no; for our sakes remove — 
 That cup He drank for me. 
 
 — I " taOtm 
 
^ — ^ 
 
 22 OR I FOB THE HAPPY DA YS GONE BY. 
 
 He drank it to the dregs — no drop remained 
 Of wrath, for those whose cup of woe he drained 
 Man ne'er can know what that sad cup contained, 
 All, all is known to Thee. 
 
 And welcome, irrecious, can His Spirit make 
 My little drop of suffering for His sake. 
 Father, the cup I drink, the path I take, 
 All, all is known to Thee. 
 
 OH! FOR THE HAPPY DAYS GONE BY 
 
 On ! for the happy days gone by, 
 When love ran smooth and free j 
 Days when my spirit so enjoyed 
 More than earth's liberty ! 
 
 Oh ! for the times when on my heart 
 
 Long prayer had never palled, 
 Times when the ready thought of God 
 
 Would come when it was called ! 
 
 Tlicn when I knelt to meditate. 
 Sweet thoughts came o'er my soul, 
 
 Countless, and bright, and beautiful, 
 Beyond my own control. 
 
 Oh ! Avho hath lockei those fountains up ? 
 Those visions w lio hath staid ? 
 
u" 
 
 OH! FOR THE HAPPY DA YS QONE BY. 23 
 
 What sudden act hath thus transformed 
 My sunshine Into shade ? 
 
 This freezing heart, O Lord ! this will, 
 
 Dry as the desert sand — 
 Good thoughts tliat will not come, bad thought 
 
 That come without command — 
 
 A faith that seems not faith, a hope 
 
 That cares not for its aim — 
 A love that none the hotter growo 
 
 At Jesus' blessed name — 
 
 The weariness of prayer, the mist 
 
 O'er conscience overspread — 
 The chill repugnance to frequent 
 
 The feast of angels' bread : 
 
 If this drear change be Thine, O Lord I 
 
 If it be Thy sweet will, 
 Sjiare not, but to the very brim 
 
 The bitter chalice fill ; 
 
 But if it hath been sin of mine, 
 
 Oh ! show that sin to me — 
 Not to get back the sweetness lost, 
 
 But to make peace with Thee. 
 
 One tiling alone, dear Lord, I dread- 
 To have a secret spot 
 
1^ 
 
 24 cm FOR THE HAPPY DAYS GONE BT. 
 
 That separates my soul from Thee, 
 And yet to know it not. 
 
 Oh ! when the tide of graces set 
 
 So full upon my heart, 
 I know, dear Lord, how faithlessly 
 
 I did my little part. 
 
 I know how well my heart hath earned 
 
 A chastisement like this, 
 In trifling many a grace away 
 
 In self-complacent bliss. 
 
 But if this weariness hath come 
 
 A present from on high, 
 Teach me to find the hidden wealth 
 
 That in its depths may lie ; 
 
 So in this darkness I can learn 
 
 To tremble and adore, 
 To sound my own vile nothingness, 
 
 And thus to love Thee moro; 
 
 To love Thee, and yet not to think 
 
 That I can love so mucli ; 
 To have Thee with me. Lord ! all day 
 
 Yet not to feel Thy touch. 
 
 If I have served Thee, Lord ! for hire, 
 Hire which Tliy beauty showed, 
 
 ll 
 
 H~ 
 
-_jj ^"xt 
 
 LOST TliEASUEES. 25 
 
 Ah ! I can serve Thee now for naught, 
 And only as my God. 
 
 Oh ! blessed be this darkness, then, 
 
 This deep in Avhich I lie ; 
 And blessed be all things that teach 
 
 God's dread supremacy ! 
 
 LOST TREASURES. 
 
 LET us be patient, God has taken from us 
 The earthly treasures upon which we leaned, 
 That from the fleeting things which lie around us, 
 Our clinging hearts should be for ever weaned. 
 
 They have passed from us — all our broad posses- 
 sions : 
 Ships, whose white sails flung wide past distant 
 shores ; 
 liands, whose rich harvests smiled In the glad sun- 
 shine ; 
 Silver and gold, and all our hoarded stores. 
 
 And, dearer far, the pleasant home where gatliercd 
 Our loved and loving round the blazing hearth j 
 
 Where honored age on the soft cushions rested, 
 And childhood played about m frolic mirth. 
 
 J atna 
 
■* 4r 
 
 28 LOST TREASURES. 
 
 Where underneath the softened light bent kindly 
 The mother's tender glance on daughters lair, 
 
 And he on whom all leant "with fond confiding, 
 Rested contented from his daily care. 
 
 All shipwrecked in one common desolation ! 
 
 The garden-wallvs by other feet are trod ; 
 The clin2:inf; vines by other fin2:ers tutored 
 
 To fling their shadows o'er the grassy sod. 
 
 While carking care and deep humiliation, 
 In tears are mingled with their daily bread; 
 
 And the rude blasts we never thought could reach 
 us, 
 Have sf)ent their worst on each defenseless head. 
 
 Let us be cheerful ! The same sky o'erarches — 
 Soft rain falls on the evil and the good ; [ing 
 
 On narrow walls, and through our humbler dwell 
 God's glorious sunshine pours as rich a flood. 
 
 Faith, hope, and love still in our hearts abiding. 
 May bear their precious fruits in us the same ; 
 
 And to the couch of sufierlng we may carry, 
 If but the cup of water, In His name. 
 
 Lt;t us be thankful, if in this affliction 
 No grave is opened for the loving heart ; 
 
 And while we bend beneath our Father's chiding, 
 We yet can mourn " each family apart." 
 
•4^ 
 
 SUNDAY. 27 
 
 Shoulder to shoulder let us breast the torrent, 
 "With not one cold reproach nor angry look ; 
 
 There are some seasons, when the heart is smitten, 
 It can no whisper of unkindness brook. 
 
 Our life is not in all these brief possessions ; 
 
 Our home is not in any pleasant spot : 
 Pilgrims and strangers we must journey onward, 
 
 Contented with the portion of our lot. 
 
 These earthly walls must shortly be dismantled ; 
 
 These earthly tents be struck by angel hands ; 
 But to be built up on a sure foundation, 
 
 There, where our Father's mansion ever stands 
 
 There shall we meet, parent and cliild, and dearer 
 That earthly love which makes half heaven of 
 home ; 
 
 There shall we find our treasures all awaiting. 
 Where change and death and parting never 
 
 come. 
 
 — ♦ — 
 
 SUNDAY. 
 
 "I WAS in the spirit on the Lord's day."— Rev. 1 : 10. 
 
 A FTER long days of storms and showers, 
 [\ Of sighing winds, and dripping bowera, 
 How sweet, at morn, to ope our eyes ^ 
 On newl}- *' swept and garnished" skies 1 
 
-jfj- ^ 
 
 28 SUNDAY. 
 
 To miss the clouds, and driving rain, 
 And see that all is briHit axrain — 
 So bright we cannot choose but say, 
 Is this the world of yesterday ? 
 
 Even so, methinks, the Sunda}' brings 
 A change o'er all familiar things ; 
 A change — we know not whence it camo— 
 They are, and they are not, the same. 
 
 There is a spell within, around. 
 On eye and ear, on sight and sound , 
 And, loth or willing, they and we 
 Must own this day a myster}'. 
 
 Sure all things wear a heavenly dress 
 That sanctifies their loveliness, 
 Types of that endless resting-day, 
 When " we shall all be changed " as they. 
 
 To-day our peaceful, ordered home 
 Forcshadoweth mansions yet to come , 
 We foretaste, in domestic love, 
 The faultless charities above. 
 
 And as at yester-eventlde 
 Our tasks and toys were laid aside 5 
 Lo ! here our training for the day 
 When we shall lay them down for aye. 
 
 1 VSSZCOSHBBBSI 
 
-*- 
 
 SUIWA Y. 
 
 it 
 
 But not alone for musings deep, 
 Meek souls their " day of days " will keep ; 
 Yet other glorious things than these, 
 The Christian in his Sabbath sees. 
 
 His eyes, by faith, his Lord behold ; 
 How on the week's first day of old 
 From hell he rose, on Death he trod, 
 Was seen of men, and went to God. 
 
 And as we fondly pause to look 
 Where in some daily-handled book, 
 Approval's well-known tokens stand, 
 Traced by some dear and thoughtful hand 
 
 Even so there shines one day in seven, 
 Bright with the special mark of Heaven, 
 That we with love and praise may dwell 
 On Him who loveth us so well. 
 
 Whether in meditative walk. 
 Alone with God and heaven "we talk, 
 Catching the simple chime that calls 
 Our feet to some old church's walls ; 
 
 Or passed within the church's door, 
 Where poor are rich, and rich are poor, 
 We say the prayers, and hear the word. 
 Which there our fathers said and heard ; 
 
 rp" 
 
.jjr- 1:^ 
 
 30 SUNDA Y. 
 (f 
 
 Or represent in solcini) wise, 
 Our all-prevailing sacrirure 5 
 Feeding in joint eonnnunion high, 
 The life of faith that cannot die. 
 
 And surely, in a world like this, 
 So rife with woe, so scant of bliss — 
 Where fondest hopes are oftenest crossed. 
 And fondest hopes are severed most ; 
 
 'Tis something that wc kneel and pray 
 With loved ones near and far away ; 
 One God, one faith, one hope, one care, 
 One form of words, one hour of prayer. 
 
 *Tis just — ye( pause, till ear and heart, 
 In one brief silence, ere we part. 
 Somewhat of that hiirh strain have cauirht, 
 " The peace of God which passeth thought." 
 
 Then turn we to our earthly homes, 
 Not doubting but that Jesus comes 
 Breathing his peace on hall and hut 
 At evening, when the doors are shut ; 
 
 Then speeds us on our work-day way, 
 And hallows every, connnon day ; 
 Without Ilim Sunday's self were dim, 
 But all are bri{»;ht, if t- pent with Ilim. 
 
 _nP- 
 
■tT 
 
 ONE BY ONBi 
 
 ONE B Y ONE. 
 
 ONE by one the sands arc llowinfr 
 One by one the nionuMits fall, 
 Sonic arc cominfr, }H)nie are iroin<'- — 
 Do not strive to nrasp them all 
 
 One by one thy duties wait thee, 
 Let thy whole strength f^o to each ; 
 
 Let no future dreams elate tluH'. ; 
 
 Learn thou first what those can teach. 
 
 One by one, (bright -^Ifls from heaven,) 
 Joys are sent thee here below; 
 
 Take them readily, when given — 
 Heady, too, ta let them go. 
 
 One by one thy griefs shall meet thee, 
 Do not fear an armed band ; 
 
 Que will fade, while others greet thco, 
 Shadows passing through the land. 
 
 Do not look at life's long sorrow, • 
 Sec how small eaeh moment's pain; 
 
 God Avill help thee for to-morrow — 
 Every day begin again. 
 
 Every hour that fleets ro slowly, 
 Has its task to do or bear; 
 
 l l 
 
 jf^ 
 
32 ^liY'^S CHOICE. 
 
 "1 
 
 Luminous the crown, and lioly, 
 If thou set each gem with care. 
 
 Do not linger with regretting, 
 Or for passion's hour despond; 
 
 Nor, the daily toil forgetting, 
 Look too eagerly beyond. 
 
 Hours are golden links, God's token, 
 Reaching heaven, but one by one 
 
 Take them, lest the chain be broken 
 Ere the pilgrimage be done. 
 
 MARTS CHOICE. 
 
 JESUS, engrave it on my heart, 
 That Thou the one thing needful art 
 I could from all things parted be, 
 But never, never, Lord, from Thee. 
 
 Needful is Thy most precious blood, 
 Needful is Thy correcting rod. 
 Needful is Thy indulgent care, 
 Needful Thy all-prevailing prayer. 
 
 Needful Thy presence, dearest Lord, 
 True peace and comfort to afford \ 
 
 
 Ka. -a. 
 
4i- 
 
 •tffamlcm 
 
 ''NEARER ROME:'i 
 
 JS'eedful Thy promise to impart 
 Fresh life and vigor to my heart. 
 
 Needful art Thou to be my stay 
 Through all life's dark and thorny way ; 
 Nor less in death Thou'lt needful be, 
 To bring my spirit home to Thee. 
 
 Then needful still, my God, my King, 
 Thy name eternally I'll sing ; 
 Glory and praise be ever His — 
 The " one thing needful " Jesus is. 
 
 4 
 
 ''NEARER home:' 
 
 ONE sweetly solemn thought 
 Comes to me o'er and o'er ; 
 I'm nearer home to-day 
 
 Than I ever have been before. 
 
 Nearer my Father's house, 
 
 Where the many mansions bo ; 
 
 Nearer the great white throne, 
 Nearer the jasper sea ; 
 
 Nearer the bound of life, 
 
 Where we lay our burdens down ; 
 
tr 
 
 84 
 
 ^OH! 
 
 TO BE READY. 
 
 Nearer leaving tlie cross, 
 Nearer wearing the crown. 
 
 But lying darkly between, 
 
 Winding down througli tlic night, 
 Is the dim and unknown stream 
 
 That leads at last to the light. 
 
 Closer, closer my steps 
 
 Come to the dark abysm. 
 Closer, death to my lips 
 
 Presses the awful chrism. 
 
 Saviour, perfect my trust, 
 
 Strengthen the might of my faith, 
 Let me feel as I would when I stand 
 
 On the rock of the shore of death ; 
 
 Feel as I would when my feet 
 Are slipping over the brink ; 
 
 For it may be I'm nearer home, 
 Nearer now than I think. 
 
 ■■Hi| 
 
 tJmmmtmmaB 
 
 OH! TO BE READY, 
 
 ^H ! to be ready when death shall dome, 
 Oh I to be ready to hasten home ! 
 No earthward clinging, no lingering gaze. 
 No strife at parting, no sore amaze ; 
 
 jsmaammattM 
 
4 
 
 TEE BRIDEGROOM'S DOVE. 35 
 
 No chains to sever that earth hath twined, 
 No spell to loosen that love would bind. 
 
 No flitting shadows to dim the light 
 Of the angel-pinions winged for flight ; 
 No cloud-like phantoms to fling a gloom 
 'Twixt heaven's bright portals and earth's dark 
 
 tomb ; 
 But sweetly, gently, to pass away 
 From the world's dim twilight into day. 
 
 To list the music of angel lyres, 
 To catch the rapture of seraph fires, 
 To lean in trust on the risen One, 
 Till borne away to a fadeless throne. 
 Oh ! to be ready when death shall come f 
 Oh ! to be ready to hasten home ! 
 
 THE BRIDEGROOM'S DOVE. 
 
 " -MT Dove ! in the clefts of the rock, in the secret of tlio 
 stairs."— Cast. 2 : 14. 
 
 ' ' "A /TY Dove !" The Bridegroom speaks. To 
 IVi- whom ? 
 
 Whom, think'st thou, meaneth He V 
 Say, O my soul I canst thou presume 
 He thus addrcsscth thee ? 
 
 A 
 
 ■■■BHhI obbrs 
 
4^ 
 
 P 
 
 TEE BRIVEGROOM'S DOVE. 
 
 Yes, 'tis the Bridegroom's voice of love, 
 Calling thee, O my soul J His Dove I 
 
 The Dove is gentle, mild, and meek : 
 
 Deserve I, then, the name ? 
 1 look within in vain to seek 
 
 Aught v/hich can give a claim : 
 Yet, made so by redeeming love. 
 My soul, thou art the Bridegroom's Dove I 
 
 Methinks, my soul, that thou may'st see, 
 
 In this endearino; word, 
 Reasons why Jesus likens thee 
 
 To this defenseless bird ; 
 Reasons which show the Bridegroom's lovo 
 To His poor hclj^less, timid Dove I 
 
 Tlie Dove, of all the feathered tribe, 
 
 Doth least of power possess" 
 My soul, what better can describe 
 
 Thine utter helplessness ? 
 Yet courage take ! the Bridegroom's lovo 
 Will keep, defend, protect His Dove I 
 
 The Dove hath neither claw nor sting, 
 
 Nor weapon for the fight ; 
 She owes her safety to her wing, 
 
 Her victorv to fliohf. 
 
THE BBIDEGROOM'S DOVE. 37 
 
 A shelter hath the Bridegroom's love 
 Provided for his helpless Dove I 
 
 The Hawk comes on, in eager chase — 
 
 The Dove will not resist ; 
 In flying to her hiding-place, 
 
 Her safety doth consist. 
 The Bridegroom opes His arms of love, 
 And in them folds His panting Dove 1 
 
 Nothing the Dove can now molest, 
 Safe from the fowler's snare ; 
 
 The Bridegroom's bosom is her nest — 
 Nothino; can harm her there. 
 
 Encircled by the arms of love, 
 
 Almighty power protects the Dove I 
 
 As the poor Dove, before the Hawk, 
 
 Quick to her refuge flies, 
 So need I, in my daily walk. 
 
 The wing Avhich fiiith supplies, 
 To bear me where the Bridegroom's love 
 Places beyond all harnn ILs Dove ! 
 
 My soul of native powei bereft, 
 To Calvary repaii's 
 
 --^J 
 
Tt 
 
 88 Tni; bridegroom's dove. 
 
 Imraanucl is the rochj clefU 
 
 " The secret of the stairs ! '* 
 Since placed thereby tha Bridegroom's love, 
 What evil can befall His Dove ? 
 
 Though Sinai's thunder round her roars, 
 
 Though Ebal's lightnings flash, 
 Though heaven a fiery torrent pours. 
 
 And riven mountains crash — 
 Through all, the " still small voice " of love 
 Whispers : " Be not afraid, my Dove ! " 
 
 What though the heavens away may pass, 
 
 With fervent heat dissolve ; 
 And round the sun this earthly mass 
 
 No longer shall revolve ! 
 Behold a miracle of love ! 
 The lion quakes, but not the Dove I 
 
 My soul, now hid within a rock, 
 
 (The " Rock of Ages " called,; 
 Amid the universal shock 
 
 Is fearless, unappalled. 
 A cleft therein, prepared by love, 
 In safety hides the Bridegroom's Dove ! 
 
 O happy Dove ! thus weak, thus safo 
 Do I resemble her ? 
 
 ^+ 
 
GOD MY EXCEEDING JOY. 39 
 
 Then to my soul, O Lord 1 voiiclisafo 
 
 A dove-Ulce character ! 
 Pure, harmless, gentle, full of love, 
 Make me in spirit, Lord, a Dove I 
 
 O Thou, who on the Bridegroom's head 
 
 Didst, as a Dove, come down. 
 Within my soul Thy graces shed. 
 
 Establish there Thy throne ; 
 There shed abroad a Saviour's love, 
 Thou holy, pure, and heavenly Dove ! 
 
 S. R. i\L 
 
 GOD, MY EXCEEDING JOY, 
 Psalm 43 : 4. 
 
 EARLY my spirit turned 
 From earthly things away, 
 And agonized and yearned 
 
 For the eternal day ; 
 Dimly I saw, when but a boy, 
 God, my exceeding joy. 
 
 la days of fiercer flame, 
 When passion urged mc on, 
 
 'Twas only bliss in name — 
 The pleasure soon was gone. 
 
 «cMis»|m 
 
GOD, MY EXCEEDING JOY. 
 
 Compared with Tliee, Iiow all things cloy, 
 God, my exceeding joy! 
 
 At length the moment came — 
 Jesus made known His love ; 
 
 High shot the kindllno; flame 
 To glories all above. 
 
 Now all my powers one theme employ 
 God, my exceeding joy. 
 
 Shadows came on apace ; 
 
 Tears were a pensive shower ; 
 I cried for timely grace 
 
 To save me from the hour ; 
 Thou gavest peace without alloy, 
 
 God, my exceeding joy. 
 
 One trial yet awaits, 
 
 Gigantic at the close ; 
 All that my spirit hates 
 
 INIay then my peace oppose ; 
 But God shall this last foe destroy, 
 
 God, my exceeding joy. 
 
 ^ 
 
GOD'S SUPPORT AND GUIDANCE, 42 
 
 GOiyS SUPPORT AND GUIBANCE. 
 
 TRANSLATED FROM THE GEKMAN. 
 
 FORSAKE me not, my God, 
 Thou God of my salvation ! 
 Give me Thy light, to be 
 
 My sure illumination. 
 My soul to folly turns, 
 
 Seeking she knows not what ; 
 Oh ! lead her to thyself — 
 My God, forsake me not ! 
 
 Forsake me not, my God ! 
 
 Take not Thy Spirit from mc • 
 And suffer not the might 
 
 Of sin to overcome mc. 
 A father pitieth 
 
 The children he begot ; 
 My Father, pity me — 
 
 My God, forsake me not. 
 
 Forsake me not, my God ! 
 
 Thou God of life and power, 
 Enliven, strengthen me 
 
 In every evil hour ; 
 And when the sinful fire 
 
 Within my heart is hot, 
 

 42 OOD'S SUPPORT AND GUJDANOB 
 
 ■^n 
 
 Be not Thou far iVom mc — 
 My God, forsake me iiotl 
 
 Forsake mc not, my God I 
 
 Uphold mc in my going, 
 That evermore I may 
 
 Please Thee in all Avcll-doiug, 
 And that Thy will, O Lord ! 
 
 May never be forgot, 
 In all my works and ways — 
 
 My God, forsake mc not 1 
 
 Forsake mc not, my God ! 
 
 I would be thine for ever I 
 Confirm mc mightily 
 
 In every right endeavor: 
 And when my hour is come, 
 
 Cleansed from all stain and spot 
 Of sin, receive my soul — 
 
 My God, forsake mc not! 
 
 n 
 
I AM. 
 
 43 
 
 Bt Q Bl ■■■ 
 
 I A M, 
 
 " 0®D calls himself 1 AM, leaving a blank which each sou 
 may fill up with that which i-s most precious to himself." 
 
 ry^IIOU bidd'st us call, and giv'st us many a 
 1 name, 
 
 That thou may'st hear and answer every cry • 
 But— for the wants of all are not the same— 
 
 Another name Thy wondrous love did try ; 
 To Moses first Thou gav'st it, and he knew 
 Its worth, and taught us Iioav to prize it, too : 
 I All— let every sinner kneel, and thank 
 The Lord, and with his wants fill up the blank. 
 Thy very wounds do say, each drop they bleed, 
 " I AM thy need." 
 
 Oh ! I am weary of this life, 
 
 Of all its vanity and care ; 
 Where can I hide me from its strife, 
 
 From all its noises — where ? 
 My spirit sinks beneath the load, 
 I pant to reach a safe abode. 
 "W hen shall I find a sAveet release ? 
 Eomains there yet a lasting peace, 
 A calm for my long storm-tost breast? 
 " I AM thy rest." 
 
 ly" 
 
J 
 
 i»^i >ni fp^y »i 
 
 r 
 
 44 / Air. 
 
 Oil ! I am full of grievous sin, 
 I can do naught that's right ; 
 
 God ! how base my soul is in 
 Thy pure and holy sight ! 
 
 Thy perfect laAvs I daily, hourly break, 
 And will not yield my will for Thy sweet sake. 
 Still in my soul do burn wicked desires, 
 And my heart's altar bears unhallowed fires ; 
 
 1 can do naught but all these thinirs confess. 
 
 " I AM thy righteousness." 
 
 But, Lord, I am so weak, so Aveak, 
 
 I cannot stand before Thy face ; 
 Th}'' praises I can hardly speak. 
 
 Hardly stretch forth my hands for grace; 
 The way seems long, the burden who can bear " 
 Lord, must I sink beneath the load of care ? 
 Thus is it now ; what shall it be at length ? 
 « I AIM thy strength." 
 
 Lord, I must die ; e'en now the wing 
 
 Of Thy dread angel hovereth nigh; 
 I know the messaire he doth brine: — 
 
 " Soul, thou hast sinned, and thou must die.'* 
 All nature feels and owns the just decree ; 
 And is this all that is in store for me — 
 Ashes to ashes, dust to kindred dust, 
 No hope, no light? Surely my spirit must 
 
 
 
■ a n 
 
 frcx^ 
 
 A LITTLE WHILE. 45 
 
 Sink in despair ere nature's last, fierce strife — 
 « I AM thy life." 
 
 Oh ! -wonderful Thou art ! 
 
 Too wonderful for me is such cfreat love. 
 Shining in such a heart 
 
 Like sunbeams from above. 
 How rich am I ! yea, all things I possess — 
 Peace, joy, life, strength, and perfect righteous- 
 ness. 
 Jehovah shoAvs Himself, and gives to me 
 All my desire. Look, trembling soul ! and sco 
 On what a treasury thy want may call — 
 "I AIM thine all in all." 
 
 A LITTLE WHILE. 
 
 BEYOND the smiling and the weepijig 
 I shall be soon ; 
 Beyond the waking and the sleeping, 
 Beyond the sowing and the reaping, 
 I shall be soon. 
 Love, rest, and home ! 
 
 Sweet hope ! 
 Lord, tarry not, but come. 
 
 ■ iiES'!g»Ka«3H 
 
Jj It. 
 
 -*(' A UTTI.K WHILE. 
 
 ^ 
 
 Beyond the \)looinin<j: niul the fading; 
 
 1 shall be so(»n ; 
 Bevoiul the shiniui; and the idiadlno; 
 Beyond the hopinu: and the dreading;, 
 I shall be soon. 
 Love, rest, and home ! 
 
 Sweet hojH' I 
 Lonl, tarry not, luit eome. 
 
 Beyond the risini:; and the settuig 
 
 I shall be soon ; 
 BeAond the eahnin>: antl the iVettlnj!, 
 Beyond renieniberinir an<l lbr'»ettlno\ 
 I sliall be soon. 
 Love, rest, and home 
 
 Sweet hope I 
 Lord, tarry not, but eome. 
 
 Beyond the ^atherln-i- and the strewino 
 
 I shall be soon ; 
 Beyond tho ebbing and the flowing, 
 Bevond the eominir and tiie iroln*^, 
 1 shall be soon. 
 Love, rest, and home ! 
 
 Sweet hope ! 
 Lonl, tarry not, bnt eome. 
 
 Beyond the parting and the meeting 
 I shall be sixm , 
 
 j:+ 
 
4j ^ 
 
 miTDER ME N-QT. 4:1 
 
 Beyond tlio farewell and the greeting, 
 Beyond this pulse's fever beating, 
 I shall be soon. 
 Love, rest, and home 1 
 
 Sweet hope ! 
 Lord, tarry not, but eome. 
 
 Beyond the frost-<;haIn and the fever 
 
 I shall be soon ; 
 Beyond the rock-waste and the river, 
 Beyond the ever and the never, 
 I shall be soon. 
 Love, rest, and home 
 
 Sweet hope I 
 Lord, tarry not, but come. 
 
 HINDER MB NOT. 
 
 HINDER me not ! the path is long and weary, 
 I may not pause nor tarry by the way ; 
 Night Cometh, when no man may journey onward, 
 For we must walk as children of the day. 
 
 I know the city lieth fair behind me, 
 
 The very brightest gem that studs the plaiu 
 
 But thick and fast the lurid clouds are rising, 
 Which soon shall scatter into fiery rain. 
 
 ^ # 
 
HINDER ME NOT. 
 
 1 must press on until I reach my Zoar, 
 
 And there find refuge from the fearful blast : 
 
 In Thy cleft side, O smitten Saviour ! hide me, 
 Till the calamity be overpast. 
 
 Ye cannot tempt me back with pomp or pleasure , 
 All, in my eager grasp, have turned to dust. 
 
 The shield of love around my hearth is broken ; 
 How shall I place on man's frail life my trust ? 
 
 But my heart lingers when I pass the dwellings 
 ^Vliere children play about tlie open door ; 
 
 And pleasant voices waken up the echoes, 
 From silent lips of those I see no more. 
 
 For through their chambers swept the solemn 
 warning, 
 Arise ! depart ! for this is not your rest ; 
 Tlicy folded their pale hands and sought the pres- 
 ence — 
 I only bore the arrow in my breast. 
 
 But there is balm in Gilead, and a Healer 
 Whose sovereign poAver can cure our every ill ; 
 
 And to the soul, more wildly tempest-tossing 
 Than ever Galilee, say : " Peace, be still!" 
 
 Who, showing His own name thereon engraven, 
 With bleedinn; hands will draAv the dait again. 
 
 
4j ll. 
 
 HINDER ME NOT. 49 
 
 V- 
 
 And whisper : " Should the true disciple muijuur 
 To taste the cup his Master's lip could drain V" 
 
 And then lead on, until we reach the river 
 "Which all must cross, and some must cross 
 alone ; 
 
 Oh ! ye who in the land of peace are wearied, 
 How shall ye breast the Jordan's swelling moan '»* 
 
 I know not if the wave shall rage or slumber, 
 When I shall stand upon the nearer shore ; 
 
 But one whose form the Son of God resembleth, 
 Will cross with me, and I shall ask no more. 
 
 O weary heads ! rest on your Saviour's bosom. 
 
 O weary feet ! press on the path He trod. 
 O weary souls ! your rest shall be remaining, 
 
 When ye have gained the city of your God. 
 
 O glorious v;ity ! jasper built, and shining 
 With God's own glory in effulgent light, 
 
 Wherein no manner of defilement cometh, 
 Nor any shadow flung from passing night. 
 
 There shall ye pluck fruits from that tree immortal, 
 And be like gods, but find no curse therein. 
 
 Inhere shall ye slake your tliirst In that full fount- 
 ain [sin. 
 Whose distant streams sufficed to cleanse your 
 
^ 
 
 50 •/ (JLING TO thee:' 
 
 There shall ye find your dead in Christ arisen, 
 And learn from them to sinjj the angels' soiior , 
 
 NVell may ye echo from earth's waiting prison, 
 The martyr's cry : " How long, O Lord ! how 
 lonsc !" 
 
 ., "/ CLING TO thee:' 
 
 OHOLY Saviour, Friend unseen ! 
 Since on Thine arm thou bidst me lean, 
 Help me, throughout life's varying scene, 
 By faith I cHng to Thee. 
 
 Blest with this fellowship divine. 
 Take what Thou wilt, I'll ne'er repine : 
 E'en as the branches to the vine. 
 
 My soul would cling to Thee. 
 
 Far from her home, fatigued, oppressed, 
 Here has she found her place of rest. 
 An exile still, yet not unblessed, 
 
 While she can cling to Thee. 
 
 Wliat though the world deceitful prove, 
 And earthly friends and joys removo 
 With patient uncomplaining love, 
 Still would I cling to Thee. 
 
 J' M as 
 
-^ 
 
 '•'ALONE, YET NOT ALONE:' 51 
 
 Though faith and hope may long be tried, 
 I ask not, need not aught beside ; 
 How safe, how cahn, how satisfied, 
 The soul that clings to Thee ! 
 
 They fear not Satan, nor the grave ; 
 They feel Thee near, and strong to save ; 
 Nor dread to cross e'en Jordan's wave, 
 Because they cling to Thee. 
 
 Blest is my lot — whate'er befall ; 
 What can disturb me — who appall ? 
 While, as my strength, my rock, my all, 
 Saviour ! I clinjx to Thee. 
 
 ''ALONE, YET NOT ALONE."" 
 
 WHEN no kind earthly friend is near. 
 With gentle words my heart to cheer 
 Still am I with my Saviour dear : 
 
 " Alone, yet not alone." 
 
 Though no loved forms my path attend, 
 With tender looks o'er me to bend, 
 Yet am I with my unseen Friend : 
 " Alone, yet not alone." 
 
 When sorely racked with pain and grief. 
 Here I can find a sure relief; 
 
 ^ 
 
 J--+ 
 
52 th:e school of suffering. 
 
 And I rejoice in the belief: 
 
 " Alone, yet not alone." 
 
 'Tis on His strength that I rely, 
 And doubts and fears at once defy, 
 So happy, so content am T, 
 
 " Alone, yet not alone." 
 
 E'en "when with friends my lot is cast, 
 And words of love are flowing fast. 
 Still am I, when those hours are past, 
 " Alone, yet not alone." 
 
 If all my earthly friends remove. 
 My fondest wishes empty prove, 
 Still am I with my Saviour's love 
 " Alone, yet not alone. 
 
 ^Vhate'er may now to me betide, 
 T have a place wherein to hide 
 By faith ; 'tis e'en at His blest side : 
 " Alone, yet not alone.'^ 
 
 THE SCHOOL OF SUFFERIKO, 
 
 SAVIOUR, beneath Thy yoke 
 My wayward heart doth pine ; 
 All unaccustomed to the stroke 
 Of love divine: 
 
^ i m t.v mmm ^ \\\t H | | H|B " ■■■•'^'H— UHMiM 
 
 THE SCHOOL OF SUFFERING. 53 
 
 Thy clmstisements, my God, arc hard to bear, 
 Thy cross is heavy for frail flesh to wear. 
 
 " Perishing child of clay ! 
 
 Thy sighing I have heard ; 
 Long have I marked thy evil way, 
 HoAv thou hast erred ! 
 Yet fear not, by my own most holy name 
 I will shed healing through thy sin-sick frame. ' 
 
 Praise to Thee, gracious Lord ! 
 
 I fain would be at rest ; 
 Oh ! now fulfil Thy faithful word 
 And make me blest ; 
 My soul would lay her heavy burden down. 
 And take, with joyfulness, the promised crown. 
 
 " Stay, thou short-eighted child ! 
 There is much first to do, 
 Thy heart, so long by sin defiled, 
 1 must renew ; 
 Thy will must here be taught to bend to mine. 
 Or the sweet peace of heaven can ne'er be thine. 
 
 Yea, Lord, but Thou canst soon 
 
 Perfect Thy work in me, 
 Till, like the pure, calm summer noon 
 
 I shine by Thee 5 
 
 xB- 
 
64 THE SCHOOL OF SUFFERING. 
 
 A moment shine, that all Thy power may traco, 
 Then pass In stillness to my heavenly place. 
 
 " Ah ! coward soul, confess 
 
 Thou shrinkcst from my cure, 
 Thou tremblest at the sharp distres 
 Thou must endure. 
 The foes on every hand for war arrayed, 
 The thorny path in tribulation laid ; 
 
 " The process slow of years, 
 The discipline of life ; 
 Of outward woes and secret tears, 
 Sickness and strife ; 
 Thine idols taken from thee one by one, 
 Till thou canst dare to live with me alono. 
 
 " Some gentle souls there are, 
 Who jdeld unto my love, 
 Who, ripening fast beneath my care, 
 I soon remove ; 
 But thou stiff-necked art, and hard to rule ; 
 Thou must stay longer in affliction's school." 
 
 My Maker and my King ! 
 Is this Thy love to me ? 
 Oh ! that I had the lightning's wing, 
 From earth to flee ; 
 
 ^ 
 
^ 
 
 1 
 
 I- 
 
 TBE SCHOOL OF SUFFERING. 55 
 
 Ho^w^ can I bear the heavy weight of woes 
 Thine indignation on the creature throws ? 
 
 " Thou canst not, O my child ! 
 So hear my voice again ; 
 I will bear all thy anguish wild, 
 Thy grief, thy pain ; 
 My arms shall be around thee, day by day, 
 My smile shall cheer thee on thy heavenward way. 
 
 " In sickness, I will be 
 
 Watching beside thy bed. 
 In sorrow thou shalt lean on me 
 Thy aching head , 
 In every struggle thou shalt conqueror prove, 
 Nor death itself shall sever from my love." 
 
 O grace beyond compare ! 
 
 love most high and pure 1 
 Saviour, begin, no longer spare, 
 
 1 can endure ; 
 
 Only vouchsafe Thy grace, that I may live 
 Unto Thy glory who canst so forgive. 
 
 ^ 
 
 xi ii^-^L^si^Baa 
 
-lir" 
 
 56 
 
 THE PILGRUrS WA2fTS. 
 
 "^X 
 
 THE PILGRBPS WANTS 
 
 TWANT that adorning divine, 
 Thou, only, my God, canst bestow ; 
 I want in those beautiful garments to shine, 
 Which distinguish Thy household below. 
 
 Col. 3:12-17. 
 
 I want, oh ! I want to attain 
 
 Some likeness, my Saviour, to Thee : 
 
 That lono-cd-for resemblance once more to rcjiain, 
 Thy comeliness put upon me. 
 
 1 John 3 : 2, 3. 
 
 1 want to be marked for Thy own ; 
 
 Thy seal on my forehead to wear ; 
 To receive that " new name " on the mystic white 
 
 stone, 
 Which only Thyself canst declare. 
 
 Rev. 2:17. 
 
 [ Avant, every moment, to feel 
 
 That the Spirit does dwell in my heart ; 
 That His power is present to cleanse and tc ficai. 
 
 And newness of life to impart. 
 
 Rom. 8:11 ir. 
 
 I want so in Thee to abide, 
 
 A.S to bring forth some fruit to Thy praise; 
 
 
THE PILGRIM'S WANTS. 
 
 The branch that Thou pruiiest, though feeble and 
 dried, 
 May Languish, but never decays. 
 
 John 15.2-5. 
 
 I want Thine own hand to unbind 
 
 Each tie to terrestrial things, 
 Too tenderly cherished, too closely cntAvined, 
 
 Where my heart too tenaciously clings. 
 
 1 John 2 : 15. 
 
 I Avant, by my aspect serene, 
 
 My actions and words, to declare 
 That ray treasure is placed in a country unseen, 
 
 That my heart and affections are there. 
 
 Matt. 6:19-21. 
 
 I want, as a traveller, to haste 
 
 Straight onward, nor pause on my way ; 
 No forethought or anxious contrivance to waste 
 
 On my tent, only pitched for a day. 
 
 Heb. 13 : 5, 6. 
 
 I want (and this sums up my prayer) 
 
 To glorify Thee till I die ; 
 Then calmly to yieJ.d up my soul to Thy care, 
 
 And breathe out m prayer my last sigh. 
 
 PhU. 3 : 8, 0, 
 
 -tlL. 
 
tJJ ^ 
 
 58 heaven: 
 
 H EA VF.N. 
 
 OH ! Leaven is nearer than mortals think, 
 When they look with a trembling dread 
 At the misty future that stretches on, 
 From the silent home of the dead. 
 
 'Tis no lone isle on a boundless main, 
 
 No brilliant but distant shore, 
 Where the lovely ones who are called away 
 
 Must go to return no more. 
 
 No, heaven is near us ; the mighty veil 
 
 Of mortality blinds the eye. 
 That we cannot see the angel bands, 
 
 On the shores of eternity. 
 
 The eye that shuts in a dying hour 
 
 Will open the next in bliss ; 
 The welcome will sound in the heavenly world, 
 
 Ere the farewell is hushed in this. 
 
 We pass from the clasp of mourning friends, 
 To the arms of the loved and lost. 
 
 And those smiling faces will greet us there, 
 Which on earth we have valued most. 
 
 Yet oft in the hours of holy thought. 
 To the thirstins: soul is ^iven 
 
 ■*li 
 
4^ ^ 
 
 A VOICE FROM UEAYEK. 59 
 
 That power to pierce through the mist of sense, 
 
 To the beauteous scenes of heaven. 
 
 * 
 
 Then very near seem its pearly gates, 
 
 And sweetly its harpings fall ; 
 Till the soul is restless to soar away, 
 
 And longs for the anfj-el's call. 
 
 1 know when the silver cord is loosed, 
 
 When the veil is rent away, 
 Not long and dark shall the passage be, 
 
 To the realms of endless day. 
 
 
 A VOICE FROM HEAVEK, 
 
 I SHINE in the light of God, 
 His image stamps my brow ; 
 Through the shadoAvs of Death my feet liavo trod, 
 
 And I reign in glory now. 
 No breaking heart is here. 
 
 No keen and thrilling pain. 
 No wasted cheek, where the burning tear 
 Hath rolled, and left its stain. 
 
 1 have found the joys of heaven, 
 
 I am one of the angel baud ; 
 To my head a crown is given, 
 
 And a harp is in my hand ; 
 
 r"Hr 
 
tsrxa 
 
 00 
 
 I 'liTBf i.u aa 
 
 
 A VOICE FROM HEAVEN. 
 
 I have learned the song they sing, 
 
 Whom Jesus hath made free, 
 jViid the glorious walb of heaven still ring 
 
 AVith my new-born melody. 
 
 No sin, no grief, no pain — 
 
 Safe in my happy home : 
 My fears all fled, my doubts all slain, 
 
 My hour of triumph come ; 
 friends of my mortal years 1 
 
 The trusted and the true, 
 You're walking still the vale of tears, 
 
 But I wait to welcome you. 
 
 Do I forget ? Oh ! no, 
 
 For memory's golden chain 
 Shall bind my heart to the hearts below 
 
 Till they meet and touch again ; 
 Each link is strong and bright, 
 
 AVhile love's electric flame 
 Flows freely down, like a river of light, 
 
 To the world from whence I came. 
 
 T'^ 
 
 Do you mourn when another star 
 Shines out from the glorious sky ? 
 
 Do you weep when the voice of war 
 And the rage of conflict die ? 
 
SUP FLIC ATION. 
 
 Why then should your tears roll down, 
 Or your heart be sorely riven, 
 
 For another gem in the Saviour s crown, 
 And another soul in heaven ? 
 
 supplication: 
 
 LORD, hear my prayer ! 
 Turn not Thine ear from my distress, 
 But with Thy loving mercy bless, 
 Lest I despah" 
 
 Be gracious, Lord ! 
 My soul is oft opprcst and weak ; 
 Oh ! aid me when I comfort seek 
 
 In Thy blest word. 
 
 My footsteps stray ; 
 I wander often from the road 
 That leads to peace and Thee my God 
 
 Teach Thou the way. 
 
 Oh ! make me pure, 
 Clothe Thou my soul in spotless white, 
 That ray acceptance in Thy sight, 
 
 Be always surc^ 
 
 Let me be one 
 Of all the sinless comx^any 
 
 lU...,— ..-■- p^.y,- r-,..^„;^,|..^, |, - .ly. ■■ .„ . —., - — 
 
62 
 
 EVENING PRAYER. 
 
 Tliat round Thy throne hosannahs sing-, 
 Through Christ Thy Son. 
 
 Thy will be done 
 On earth, as by each holy one, 
 Thy own redeemed, who near thy throne, 
 
 Bow down the knee ! II ^n. 
 
 if, 
 
 T^ 
 
 EVENING PRAYER. 
 
 FATHER of mercy ! at the close of day, 
 My work and duties done, to Thee I pray 
 Before I sleep ; 
 With clasped hands I humbly bow my head, 
 And ask Thee, Lord, ere I retire to bed. 
 My soul to keep. 
 
 The sins and failings of the day now past. 
 The shadows on my soul that they have cast, 
 
 Do Thou forgive ; 
 Oh ! purge my life from every taint of sin, 
 That I within Thy courts may enter in. 
 
 With Thee to live. 
 
 Whatever sorrow I this day have known, 
 
 I spread it now, O Lord ! before Thy throne— 
 
 Oh ! succor send ; 
 I woidd beneath Thy chastening hand be still, 
 
 IP" 
 
— 1±^ 
 
 THE WANDERING HEART. 63 
 
 And meekly bow before Thy sovereign will, 
 Unto the end. 
 
 And now, with folded hand upon my breast, 
 At peace with Thee, I lay me down to rest 
 
 Upon my bed ; 
 May angels guard me through the darksome nig] it. 
 From troubled dreams, until the morninjr lijiht 
 
 Its beams shall shed. R n. 
 
 THE WANDERING HEART. 
 
 ALAS ! for the wildly wandering heart, 
 And its chanoincf idol o;uests ! 
 It has roamed away to the world's far ends, 
 
 At the vagrant wind's behests. 
 More fleet in its course than the flying dart. 
 Alas ! for the wandering heart. 
 
 Go, bind it with Memory's holiest spells, 
 But it recks not the things of old ; 
 
 Go, chain it in Gratitude's surest cells, 
 With fetters more precious than gold ; 
 
 Yet ever, oh ! ever, it Avill depart — 
 Alas 1 for the wandering heart. 
 
^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 ^4 
 
 TffB WAITDERIXG HEART. 
 
 Is it gone up to listen at heaven's gate, 
 
 To Gabriel's lyre of praise ? 
 And to catch the deep chanting where seraplis 
 
 Asa lesson for its mortal lays ? [wait 
 
 O no ! for it loves from such lessons to part. 
 
 Alas ! for the wandering heart. 
 
 It loves on a Avorthless and treacherous world 
 
 To bestow its high desires ; 
 And the lamp which it ought to be lighting in 
 
 It kindles at idol fires. [heaven, 
 
 Full seldom it turns to its guiding chart — 
 
 Alas ! for the wandering heart. 
 
 It needs to be steeped in the briny wave 
 
 Of affliction's billowy sea, 
 And salt tears must water its way to the grave, 
 
 Ere it will from these vanities flee. 
 It must ever be feelino; the chasteninj^ smart — 
 
 Alas ! for the wandering heart. 
 
 My Father ! my Father ! this heart would be thine 
 
 Restore from its wanderings ; 
 Oh ! visit and nourish thy wilderness vine. 
 
 Though it be from the bitter springs : 
 Till the years of its pruning in time shall be o'er, 
 And its shoots in eternity wander no more 1 
 
 T^ 
 
 rp" 
 
% 
 
 '''EETURN THEE TO THY REST: G5 
 
 '^RETURN' THEE TO THY REST:' 
 
 RETURN, return thee to thine cnly rest, 
 Lone pilgrim of the world ! 
 Far errino; from the fold — 
 By the dark night and risen storms distressed : 
 I^ist, weary lamb, the Shepherd's anxious voicO; 
 And once again within His arms rejoice. 
 
 Return, return, thy fair white fleece is soiled 
 
 And by sharp briers rent — 
 
 Thy little strength is spent ; 
 Yet He will pity thee, thou torn and spoiled. 
 There, thou art cradled on His tender breast \ 
 Now never more, sweet lamb, forsake that rest 
 
 Return, return, my soul ; be like this lamb \ 
 
 Yet can it, can it be 
 
 That thou should'st pardon me, 
 Thou injured love ! all ingrate as I am ; 
 Once again, weary of earth's trifling things, 
 Fako as the desert's far and shining springs ? 
 
 R(:turn, return to thy forsaken Friend, 
 
 So long despised, forgot — 
 That now, thou wandering heart, 'twere just 
 
 If He should " know thee not ;" 
 
 tp _ rp- 
 

 66 yEAl£ JESUS. 
 
 Yet on, press on, towards the racrcy-seat, 
 And if thou perish, perish at His fiiet. 
 
 Return, return, for He is near thee dwelling, 
 
 And not into the air 
 
 Need rise the sighs of prayer ; 
 Into His ear thou'rt all thy sorrows telling ; 
 TIiou need'st not speak to Him through spaces wide, 
 For He is near thee, even at thy side. 
 
 " liini have I pierced " — oh ! I come, I come ; 
 
 JNIy heart is broken. Lord, 
 
 It needs nor voice nor word ; 
 One only look brought Peter back of yore 5 
 How bitterly I weep as then he wept ! 
 Henceforth, oh ! keep me, and I shall be kept. 
 
 ^''J^AE JESUS. 
 
 I "WANT to live near Jesus, 
 And never go astray, 
 To feel that I am growing 
 
 More like Him every day ; 
 That I am always laying 
 My treasure up above. 
 And gaining more the spirit 
 Of His gentleness and lovo. 
 
 ^ 
 
 
% 
 
 NEAR JESVS. 67 
 
 I want sucli steadfl\st purpose 
 
 My mission to fulfil, 
 That it may be my meat ami drink. 
 
 To do my Father's will, 
 To follow in His footsteps. 
 
 Who never turned aside 
 From the path that leads to lujavei?^ 
 
 Though often sorely tried. 
 
 Oh ! that in His humility 
 
 My spirit may be clad ! 
 That I may have the patience 
 
 My suffering Saviour had, 
 A heart more disengaged 
 
 From earth and earthl}^ things, 
 \Vhich throujih life's varied trials 
 
 To Jesus simply clings. 
 
 Oh ! I shall live near Jesus, 
 
 And never go astray. 
 And every sin-defiling stain 
 
 Shall soon be Avashed away ; 
 And I'll bear my INIaster's image 
 
 When I see Him face to face, 
 Then earth shall lose the power 
 
 Its briiihtness to deface. 
 
 il 
 
08 
 
 WHO IS MY BROTHER '<> 
 
 '\ 
 
 WHO IS MY BROTHERS 
 
 /T UST I my brother keep, 
 ^JL And share his pains and toil. 
 And weep Avith those that weep, 
 
 And smile with those that smile ; 
 And act to each a brother's part, 
 And feel his sorroAvs in my heart ? 
 
 Must I his burden bear 
 
 As though it were my own, 
 
 And do as I would care 
 Should to myself be done ; 
 
 And faithful to his interests prove, 
 
 And as myself my neiglibor leave ? 
 
 Must I reprove his sin. 
 
 Must I partake his grief, 
 And kindly enter in 
 
 And minister relief — 
 The naked clothe, the hungry feed. 
 And love him, not in Avord, but deed ? 
 
 Then, Jesus, at Thy feet 
 
 A student let me be, 
 And learn, as it is meet, 
 
 Myduty, Lord, of Thee; 
 For Thou didst come on mercy's plan, 
 And all Thy life Avas love to man. 
 
_JJ L|-f. 
 
 PILGRIM OF EARTH. 69 
 
 OL ! make nic as Thou art, 
 
 Thy Spirit, Lord, bestow — 
 The kind and gentle heart, 
 
 That feels another's woe ; 
 That thus I may be like my Head, 
 And in my Saviour's footsteps treads 
 
 PILGRIM OF EARTH. 
 
 13ILGRIM of earth, who art journeying tx) 
 heaven ! 
 Heir of Eternal Life ! child of the day ! 
 Cared for, watched over, beloved and forgiven— 
 An thou discourao:ed because of the way ? 
 
 Cared for, watched over, though often Thou seemcst 
 
 Justly forsaken, nor counted a child ; 
 Loved and forgiven, though rightly Thou dcemcst 
 
 Thyself all unlovely, impure, and defiled. 
 
 Weary and thirsty — no water-brook near thee, 
 Press on, nor faint at the length of the way \ 
 
 The God of thy life will assuredly hear thee — 
 He will provide thee strength for the day. 
 
 lireak through the brambles and briers that ob- 
 struct thee, 
 Dread not the gloom and the blackness of night 
 
 ■*qn '. rp" 
 
4" 
 
 70 
 
 % 
 
 PILGRIM OF EARTH. 
 
 Lean on the hand that will safely conduct thee, 
 Trust to Ills eye to whom darkness is light. 
 
 Be trustful, be steaafast, whatever betide thee, 
 Only one thing do thou ask of the Lord — 
 
 Grace to go forward wherever lie guide thee. 
 Simply believing the truth of His word. 
 
 Still on thy spirit deep anguish is pressing, 
 . Not for the }oke that His wisdom bestows: 
 A heavier burden thy soul is distressing, 
 A heart that is slow in His love to repose. 
 
 ICarthlincss, coldness, unthankful behavior — 
 Ah I thou maycst sorroAv, but do not despair 
 
 Even this grief thoumayest bring to thy Saviour 
 Cast upon Him e'en this burden and care ! 
 
 ih-ing all thy hardness — His power can subdue it; 
 
 How full is the promise ! The blessing how fr(>f' ' 
 * WTiatsoever yc ask, In my name, I will do it. 
 
 Abide in my love, and be joyful in mo." 
 
4^ 
 
 A LITTLE WHILE. • 1\ 
 
 " WHAT IS THIS THAT HE SAITH: A LIT- 
 TLE WHILE P' 
 
 Jonx 16 : IS. 
 
 OH ! for the peace which floweth as a river, 
 Making Life's desert-places bloom and smile. 
 Oh ! for a faith to grasp heaven's briglit " for ever," 
 Amid the shadows of Earth's " little while.'* 
 
 " A little while " for patient vigil-keeping, 
 To face the storm, to wrestle with the strong ; 
 
 " A little while " to sow the seed with weeping, 
 Then bind the sheaves and sinijthe harvest-son <;. 
 
 " A little while " to wear the robe of sadness, 
 To toil with weary step through erring ways; 
 
 Then to pour forth the fragrant oil of gladness, 
 And clasp the girdle of the robe of praise. 
 
 '' A little Avhile " 'mid shadow and illusion 
 To strive by faith Love's mygrterics to spell ; 
 
 I'hou read each dark enigma's clear solution, 
 Then hail Light's verdict — "He doth all things 
 Avell." 
 
 •' A little while" the earthen pitcher taking 
 To Avayside brooks from far-otf fountains fed; 
 
 Tlicn the parched lip its thirsi; for ever slaking 
 Beside the fulness of the Fountain Head. 
 
■^ 
 
 72 
 
 "% 
 
 J2r HE A YEK. 
 
 " A little Avhllc " to keep the oil from foiling ; 
 
 " A little while " Faith's flickering lamp to trim 
 And tlicn,thc Bridegroom's coming footstep hailing, 
 
 To haste to meet Ilim Avith tlie bridal hvmn. 
 
 And lie who is at once both Gift and Giver, 
 Tlie future Glory, and tlie present smile. 
 
 With the bright promise of the glad " for ever," 
 Will light the shadows of the " little while." 
 
 "T-^ 
 
 IN HEAVEN. 
 
 '• Tlielr angels do always behoUl the fiice of my Father." 
 
 SILEXCE filled the courts of heaven, 
 Hushed were seraphs' harp and tone, 
 When a little new-born seraph 
 
 Knelt before the Eternal Throne ; 
 Wliile its soft white hands were lifted, 
 
 Clasped, as if in earnest prayer. 
 And its voice, in dove-like nun*murs. 
 
 Rose nke music on the ear. 
 Light from the full fount of Glory 
 
 On his robes of whiteness glistened. 
 And the bright-wmged seraphs near Ilim 
 
 Bowed their radiant lu'ads and lisrened. 
 
4" ^ 
 
 7iV HEAVE 2f^. TO 
 
 " J^ord, from Tliy Throne of Glory here, 
 My heart turns fondly to another ; 
 O Lord ! our God, the Comforter, 
 
 Comfort, comfort, vvj siccct Mother ! 
 I\[any sorrows hast Thou sent her, 
 
 Meekly has she drained the cup ; 
 And the jewels Thou hast lent her 
 Unrepining yielded up. 
 
 Comfort, comfort, my sweet Mother 1 
 
 " Earth is crowinjx ionelv round her ; 
 Friend and lover hast Thou taken ; 
 Let her not, though woes surround her 
 
 Feel herself by Tlice foi-saken. 
 Let her think, when faint and Aveary, 
 
 Wc are waitinsr for her here : 
 Let each loss that makes earth dreary 
 ]Make the hope of heaven more dear. 
 Comfort, comfort, mt/ sweet Mother I 
 
 " Tiiou, who once in nature human, 
 Dwelt on earth a little child, 
 Pillowed on the breast of Woman, 
 
 Blessed Mary ! undefiled. 
 Thou Avho, from the cross of sun'eriug, 
 
 Marked Thy ]Mothcr's tearful foce, 
 And bequeathed her to Tliy loved one, 
 Bidding him to fill Tliy place : 
 
 Comfort, comibrt, utij sircrf Mo/her I 
 
tfj ^ 
 
 74 /2V JIEAVEN. 
 
 " Thou "who once, from heaven descending, 
 Tears and woes and conflicts "won : 
 Thou "who, nature's laws suspending, 
 
 Gav'st the widow back he son : 
 Tliou who, at the grave of Lazarus 
 
 AVept "With those who wept their dead : 
 Thou 1 who once in mortal ancruish 
 Bowed Thine own anointed head, 
 
 Comfort, comfort, my sweet Mother f " 
 
 The dove-like murmurs died away 
 
 Upon the radiant air, 
 But still the little suppliant knelt 
 
 AVith hands still clasped in prayer j 
 Still were those mildly-pleading eyes 
 
 Turned to the sapphire throne, 
 Till golden harp and angel voice 
 
 Bang forth in mingled tone ; 
 And as the swelling numbers flowed, 
 
 By angel voices given, 
 liich, sweet, and clear, the anthem rolled 
 
 Through all the courts of heaven, 
 ■•'lie is the widow's God," it said, 
 
 AVlio spared not " His own Son," 
 J'he infant cherub bowed his head — 
 
 " H'hy will, Lord! he doner 
 
 "T^ ip- 
 
i + r" 
 
 
 *'/r .t;^ /; BE NOT afraid:' 75 
 
 "7r 75 /; BE NOT AFRAWr 
 
 JIatt. 14 : 37. 
 
 TOSSED Avitli rough winds, and faint witi 
 fear, 
 Above the tempest, soft and clear, 
 AVliat still small accents greet mine ear ? 
 'Tis I ; be not afraid. 
 
 " 'Tis I, who led thy steps aright ; 
 'Tis I, who gave thy blind eyes sight ; 
 'Tis I, thy Lord, thy Life, thy Light. 
 'Tis I ; be not afraid. 
 
 " These ra2:ino; winds, this surs-inir sea, 
 Bear not a breath of wrath to thee ; 
 That storm has all been spent on me. 
 'Tis I ; be not afraid. 
 
 " This bitter cup fear not to drink ; 
 I knoAv it well — oh ! do not shrink ; 
 I tasted it o'er Kedron's brink. 
 
 'Tis I ; be not afraid. 
 
 " Mine eyes are watching by thy bed, 
 Mine arms are underneath thy head, 
 My blessing is around thee shed. 
 'Tis I : be not afraid. 
 
 "TH r:p" 
 
76 NATURE ARD FAITH. 
 
 "^ 
 
 " AMicn on the other side thy fecL 
 Shall rest 'mid thousand welcomes sweet, 
 One ■vvell-kno^Yn voice thy heart shall greet 
 'Tis I ; be not afraid." 
 
 " From out the dazzlinpj majesty, 
 Gently He'll lay His hand on thee, 
 "Whispering : " Beloved, lov'st thou me V 
 'Twas not in vain I died for thee. 
 'Tis I ; be not afraid." 
 
 NATURE AND FAITH. 
 
 2 Cor. 4 : 17, IS. 
 
 WE wept — 'twas Nature wept, but Faith 
 Can pierce beyond the gloom of death, 
 And in yon world, so fair and bright, 
 Heliold thee in refulgent light ! 
 AVe miss thee here, yet FaUli would rather 
 Know thou art with thy heavenly Father. 
 
 Nature sees the body dead — 
 
 Faith beholds the spirit lied; 
 
 Nature stops at Jordan's tide — 
 
 Faith beholds the other side ; 
 
 Tliat but hears farewell and sighs, 
 
 Thvt^ thy welcome in the skies; 
 
 if- 
 
-t^ 
 
 NATURE AND FAITH. 
 
 Nalwc mourns a cruel blow — 
 Faith assures it is not so ; 
 Nature never sees thee more — 
 ralth but sees thee gone before ; 
 Nature tells a dismal story — 
 Faith has visions full of glory ; 
 Nature views the change with sadness— 
 Faith contemplates it with gladness ; 
 Nature mnvnwxYS— Faith gives meekness, 
 i* Strength is perfected in weakness ;" 
 Nature, writhes, and hates the rod — 
 Faith looks up and blesses God ; 
 Sense looks doAvnwards — Faith above •, 
 Tliat sees harshness— //iw sees love. 
 Oh ! let Faith victorious be — 
 Let it reign triumphantly ! 
 
 But thou art gone ! not lost, but flown I 
 Shall I then ask thee back, my own, 
 Back— and leave thy spirit's brightness ? 
 Back— and leave thy robes of whiteness ? 
 Back — and leave thine angel mould ? 
 Back— and leave those streets of gold? 
 Back — and leave the Lamb who feeds thee V 
 Back— from founts to which He leads thee V 
 Back — and leave thy heavenly Father V 
 Back — to earth and sin ? — Nay ; rather 
 
 ■qn--^ rp" 
 
78 MY LAMBS. 
 
 Would I live in solitude ! 
 I ivoidd not ask thee if I could ; 
 But patient wait the high decree, 
 That calls my spirit home to thee 1 
 
 MY LAMBS. 
 
 I LOVED them so, 
 That Avhen the Elder Shepherd of the fold 
 Came, covered Avith the storm, and pale and cold. 
 And begged for one of my sweet lambs to hold, 
 I bade him go. 
 
 He claimed the pet — 
 A little fondling thing, that to my breast 
 Clung always, either in quiet or unrest — 
 I thought of all my lambs I loved him best, 
 
 And yet — and yet — 
 
 I laid him down 
 In those white, shrouded arms, with bitter tears ; 
 For some voice told me that, in after-years. 
 He should know naught of passion, grief, or fears, 
 
 As I had known. 
 
 And yet again 
 That Elder Shepherd came. My heart grew faint 
 
 IbS" mmtm ■■! i— iwibwiiw ■ i 1 mljji i 
 
% 
 
 JHY LA3IBS. 
 
 "79 
 
 He claimed another lamb, with sadder plaint, 
 Another ! She wlio, gentle as a saint , 
 Ne'er gave me pain. 
 
 Aghast I turned away ! 
 There sat she, lovely as an angel's dream, 
 Her golden locks with sunlight all agleam, 
 Her holy eyes with heaven in their beam. 
 
 I knelt to pray. 
 
 " Is it Thy will ? 
 My Father, say, must this pet lamb be given ? 
 Oh ! Thou hast many such, dear Lord, in heaven." 
 And a soft voice said : " Nobly hast thou striven ', 
 
 But — peace, be still." 
 
 Oh ! how I wept, 
 And clasped her to my bosom, with a wild 
 And yearning love — my lamb, my pleasant child 
 Her, too, I gave. The little angel smiled, 
 
 And slept. 
 
 "Go! go!" I cried: 
 For once again that Shepherd laid His hand 
 Upon the noblest of our household band. 
 Like a pale spectre, there He took His stand, 
 
 Close to his side. 
 
 And yet how wondrous SAveet 
 The look with which he heard my passionate cry ; 
 
 ■ I 
 
 jf" 
 
^ % 
 
 80 MY LAMBS. 
 
 ''Touch not my Inmb ; for liiin, oh ! let mc die !" 
 " A little Avhile," lie said, -with smile and sigh, 
 " Again to meet." 
 
 Hopeless I fell ; 
 And -when I rose, the light had burned so low, 
 So faint, I could not sec my darling go : 
 He had not bidden mc farewell, but oh ! 
 
 I felt farewell 
 
 ]\Iorc deeply, far. 
 Than if my arms had compassed that slight frame : 
 Though could I but have heard him call my name — 
 " Dear motlier !" — but in heaven 'twill be the same 5 
 
 There burns my star ! 
 
 He will not take 
 Another lamb, I thought, for only one 
 Of the dear fold is spared, to be my sun, 
 My guide ; my mourner when this life is done : 
 
 JNIy heart would break. 
 
 Oh ! with what thrill 
 t hoard Him enter; but I did not knoAV 
 (For it was dark) that He had robbed me so. 
 The idol of my so'.d — he could not g-J — 
 
 O heart 1 be still ! 
 
 Came morning. Can 1 tell 
 How this poor frame its sorrowful tenant kept ? 
 
■^ — ^ 
 
 MY LAMBS. 81 
 
 For waking tears wore miTie ; I, sleeping, wept. 
 
 And days, months, years, that weary vigil kept. 
 
 Alas! "Farewell." 
 
 How often it is said ! 
 I sit and think, and wonder too, sometime, 
 How it will seem, when, in that happier cllrac, 
 It never will rino; out like funeral chime 
 
 Over the dead. 
 
 No tears ! no tears ! 
 Will there a day come that I shall not weep ? 
 For I bedew my pillow in my sleep. 
 Yes, yes ; thank God ! no grief that clime shall 
 keep, 
 
 No weary years. 
 
 Ay ! it is well : 
 Well with my lambs, and Avith their earthly guide 
 There, pleasant rivers wander they beside, 
 Or strike sweet harps upon its silver tide — 
 
 Ay ! it is well. 
 
 Through the dreary day, 
 Tlicy often come from glorious light to mo ; 
 I cannot feel their touch, their faces see, 
 Yet my soul whispers, they do come to me * 
 
 Heaven is not far away. 
 
 "TH— 
 
 -JT 
 
TEE CALL. 
 
 THE CALL. 
 
 THE niglit was dark ; behold, ilit shade was 
 ' deeper 
 In the old garden of Gethsemano. 
 When that calm voicG awoke the wea^y sleeper : ' 
 " Could 'st thou not watch one hour alone with 
 me?" 
 
 O thou ! so weary of thy self-denials, 
 And so impatient of thy little cross, 
 
 Is it so hard to bear thy daily trials, 
 
 To count all eartlily things a gainful losa ? 
 
 What if thou always^ sutler tribulation, 
 And if thy Christian warfare never cease 
 
 The cainino- of the auiet habitation 
 Shall gather thee to everlasting peace. 
 
 But here we all must suffer, walking lonely 
 The path that Jesus once Himself hath gone : 
 
 Watch thou in patience, through the dark hour 
 only— 
 This one dark hour — before the eternal dawn. 
 
 Tlie captive's oar may pause upon the galley, 
 The soldier sleep beneath his plumed crest, 
 
 And Peace may fold her wings o'er hill and valley > 
 But thou, Christian ! must not take thy rest. 
 
 % 
 
 rp" 
 
% 
 
 THE CALL 83 
 
 Tliou must -walk on, however man upbraid tliee, 
 With Hira who trod the wine-press all alone ; 
 
 Thou wilt not find one human hand to aid thee, 
 One humat soul to comprehend thine own. 
 
 Heed not the images for ever thronging 
 From out the foregone life thou liv'st no more. 
 
 Faint-hearted mariner ! still art thou longing 
 For the dim line of the recedinir shore ? 
 
 Wilt thou find rest of soul in thy returning 
 To that old path thou hast so vainly trod ? 
 
 Hast thou forgotten all thy weary yearning 
 To walk among the children of thy God : 
 
 Faithful and steadfast in their consecration, 
 Living by that high faith to thee so dim. 
 
 Declaring before God their dedication, 
 So far from thee because so near to Him ? 
 
 Canst thou forget thy Christian superscrljition, 
 " Behold, we count them happy which cjidurc '" ? 
 
 What treasure wouldst thou, in the land Egyptian. 
 Repass the stormy water to secure V 
 
 And wilt thou yield thy sure and glorious ju'otnise 
 For the poor, fleeting joys earth can afford ? 
 
 No hand cari take away the treasure from us, 
 That rests within the keeping of the Lord. 
 
 j:p" 
 
^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 TEE CALL. 
 
 Poor, wandering soul ! I know that thou art seek- 
 ing 
 
 Some easier way, as all have sought before, 
 To silence the reproachful inward speaking — 
 
 Some landward path unto an island shore. 
 
 The cross is heavy in thy luunan measure, 
 The way too narroAv for thine inward pride ; 
 
 Thou canst not lay thine intellectual treasure 
 At the low footstool of the Crucified. 
 
 Oh ! that my faithless soul, one great hour only, 
 "Would comprehend the Christian's perfect life 
 
 Despised with Jesus, sorrowful and lonely. 
 Yet calmly looking upAvard in its strife ! 
 
 For poverty and self-renunciation. 
 
 The Father yielded back a thousand-fold ^ 
 
 Li the calm stillness of regeneration, 
 Cometh a joy we never knew of old. 
 
 In meek obedience to the heavenly Teacher, 
 Thy weary soul can find its only peace ; 
 
 Seeking no aid from any human creature — 
 Looking to God alone for his release. 
 
 And He will come in His own time and power 
 To set His earnest-hearted children free : 
 
 W^itch only through this dark and painful hour, 
 And the briiiht mornino- vet will break for thee 
 
 «Ma BE 
 
4j- 
 
 GODS AKVIL. 
 
 85 
 
 GOD'S ANVIL. 
 
 PAIR'S furnacc-hcat "within me quivers, 
 God's breath upon the fire doth blow, 
 And all my heart in anguish shivers, 
 
 And trembles at the fiery glow ; 
 And yet I whispei\ "As God will!" 
 And in Ilis hottest fire hold still. 
 
 He comes, and lays my heart, all heated, 
 
 On the bare anvil, minded so 
 Into His own fair shape to beat it, 
 
 With His great hammer, blow on blow ; 
 And yet I whisper, "As God will !" 
 And at His heaviest blows hold still. 
 
 He takes ray softened heart, and beats it. 
 
 The sparks fly off at every blow. 
 He turns tt o'er and o'er, and heats it, 
 
 And lets it cool, and makes it glow : 
 And yet I whisper, "As God will I " 
 And in His mighty hand hold still. 
 
 Why should I murmur ? for the sorrow 
 Thus only longer-lived would be ; 
 
 Its end may come, and will, to-morrow, 
 When God has done Ilis work in me * 
 
 ^h- 
 
 Tp" 
 
TEE CROSS AND CRO WN. 
 
 ^ 
 
 So I say trusting, "As God will ! " 
 And, trusting to the end, hold still. 
 
 He kindles, for my profit purely. 
 Affliction's glowing, jQery brand ; 
 
 And all His heaviest blows are surely 
 Inflicted by a master-hand; 
 
 So 1 say, praying, "As God will ! " 
 
 And hope in Him, and sufler still. 
 
 THE CROSS AND CROWN. 
 
 MUST Jesus bear the cross alone, 
 And all the world go free ? 
 i^o ; there's a cross for every one, 
 And there's a cross for me. 
 
 How happy are the saints above, 
 Who once went sorrowing here, 
 
 But now they taste unmingled lovo 
 x\nd joy without a tear. 
 
 The consecrated cross Til bear, 
 Till death shall set me free ; 
 
 And then go home, my crown to wear, 
 For there's a crow n for me. 
 
 "Ti 
 
-*— — ^ 
 
 EVEir ME. S*l 
 
 Upon the crystal pavement, down 
 
 At Jesus' pierced feet, 
 Jojful I'll cast my golden crown, 
 
 And His dear name repeat ; 
 
 And palms shall wave, and harps shall ring, 
 Beneath heaven's arches high ; 
 
 Tlie Lord that lives, the ransomed sing, 
 That lives no more to die. 
 
 EVJEN ME. 
 
 LORD ! I hear of showers of blessing 
 Thou art scattering, full and free ; 
 Showers the thirsty soul refreshing — 
 Let some droppings fall on me. 
 
 Even me. 
 
 Pass me not, O gracious Father ! 
 
 Lost and sinful though I be ; 
 Thou mightst curse me, but the rather 
 
 Let Thy mercy light on me. 
 
 Even rao. 
 
 Pass me not, O tender Saviour ! 
 Let me love and cling to Thee ; 
 
 
"^ 
 
 88 
 
 EVEN' ME. 
 
 Fain I'm longing for Thy favor; 
 When Thou callest, call for me, 
 
 Even nie. 
 
 Pass me not, O mighty Spirit ! 
 
 Thou canst make the blind to see; 
 Testify of Jesus' merit, 
 
 Speak the word of peace to me, 
 
 Even me. 
 
 Have I long in sin been sleeping, 
 Long been slighting, grieving Thee ? 
 
 lias the world my heart been keeping ? 
 Oh ! forgive and rescue me, 
 
 Even me. 
 
 Love of God ! so pure and changeless ; 
 
 Love of Christ ! so rich and free ; 
 Grace of God ! so strono; and boundless 
 
 Magnify it all in me, 
 
 Even mc. 
 
 Pass me not, almighty Spirit ! 
 
 Draw this lifeless heart to Thee ; 
 Impute to me the Saviour's merits ; 
 
 Blessing others, oh ! bless me, 
 
 Even me. 
 
 ■ 1 
 
 W' 
 
4^ % 
 
 TB^ PEACE OF GOD. 89 
 
 MY SAVIOUR, CRUCIFIED. 
 
 OMY Saviour, crucified ! 
 Near Thy cross may I abide ; 
 There to gaze, with steadfast eye, 
 On Tiiy d}ang agony. 
 
 Jesus, bruised and put to shame, 
 Tells me all the Father's name 5 
 God is love, I surely know, 
 By my Saviour's depths of woe I 
 
 in Ills sinless soul's distress, 
 [ behold my guiltiness ; 
 Oh ! how vile my low estate, 
 Since my ransom was so great. 
 
 Dwelling on Mount Calvary, 
 Contrite shall my spirit be ; 
 Rest and holiness shall find, 
 Fashioned like my Saviour's mind. 
 
 THE PEACE OF COD. 
 
 WE ask for peace, O Lord ! 
 Thy children ask Thy peace ; 
 Not what the world calls rest. 
 That toil and care should ceaso. 
 
 ■qn rp" 
 
4" tt 
 
 90 THE PEACE OF GOD. 
 
 That through bright sunny hours, 
 
 Cahii life should fleet away, 
 And tranquil night should fade 
 
 In smiling day. 
 It is not for such peace that we would pray. 
 
 We ask for peace, O Lord ! 
 
 Yet not to stand secure, 
 Girt round with iron pride, 
 
 Contented to endure ; 
 Crushing the gentle strings 
 
 That human hearts should know ; 
 Untouched by others' joys, 
 
 Or others' woe. 
 Thou, O dear Lord ! wilt never teach us so. 
 
 We ask Thy peace, O Lord ! 
 
 Through storm and fear and strife, 
 To lio'ht and guide us on 
 
 Through a long, struggling life ; 
 While no success or gain 
 
 Shall cheer the desperate fight, 
 Or nerve what the world calls 
 
 Our wasted might ; 
 Yet pressing through the darkness to the light. 
 
 It is Thine own, O Lord ! 
 Who toil while others sleep ; 
 
 TH rp- 
 
^ 
 
 PEACE. 
 
 Wlio sow, with living care, 
 
 Wliat other hands shall reap ; 
 They lean on Thee, entranced 
 
 In calm and perfect rest ; 
 Give us that peace, O Lord I 
 
 Divine and blest, 
 Thou keepest for those hearts that love Thco 
 
 [best. 
 
 PEA G E. 
 
 LIFE'S mystery — deep, restless as the ocean- 
 Hath surged and wailed for ages to and 
 fro ; 
 Ji^arth's generations watch its ceaseless motion, 
 
 As in and out its hoUoAV moanings flow. 
 Shivering and yearning by that unknown sea, 
 Let my soul calm itself, O God ! in Thee. 
 
 Life's sorrows, with inexorable power, 
 Sweep desolation o'er this mortal plain ; 
 
 And human loves and hopes fly as the chaff 
 Borne by the v/hirlwind from the ripened grain 
 
 Oh ! when before that blast my hopes all flee, 
 
 Let my soiil calm itself, O Christ ! in Thee. 
 
 Between the mysteries of death and Yi^Q 
 
 Thou standest, loving, guiding, not explaining ; 
 
 "Mil 
 
 ly 
 
,t' [±4. 
 
 92 PEAOE. 
 
 We ask, and thou art silent ; yut wc gaze, 
 
 And our charmed hearts forget their drear com- 
 plaining. ' 
 No crushing fate, no stony destiny. 
 Thou " Lamb that hath been slain I" avc rest in 
 Thee. 
 
 The many waves of thought, the mighty tides, 
 The ground-swell that rolls up from other lands, 
 
 From far-off worlds, from dim, eternal shores, 
 Whose echo dashes o'er life's wave- worn strands ; 
 
 This vague, dark tumult of the inner sea 
 
 Grows calm, grows bright, O risen Lord ! in Thee. 
 
 Thy pierced hand guides the mysterious wheels. 
 Thy thorn-crowned brow now wears the croAvn 
 of power ; 
 And when the dark enigma presseth sore. 
 
 Thy patient voice saith : " Watch with me one 
 hour." 
 As sinks the moaning river in the sea, 
 lu silent peace, so sinks my soul in Thee. 
 
 
4j — [ ^ 
 
 PRATER FOR STREKGTE. 93 
 
 FBAYER FOR STRENGTH. 
 
 lATHER ! before thy footstool kneelluor, 
 Once more my heart goes up to Thee ; 
 For aid, for strength, to Thee appealing, 
 Thou who alone canst succor me. 
 
 Hear me ! for heart and flesh are failing — 
 
 My spirit yielding in the strife ; 
 And anguish, wild as unavailing. 
 
 Sweeps in a flood across my life. 
 
 Help me to stem tlio tide of sorrow ; 
 
 Help me to bear Thy chastening rod ; 
 Give me endurance ; let me borrow 
 
 Strength from thy promise, O my God ! 
 
 Not mine the grief which words may lighten ; 
 
 Not mine the tears of common woe : 
 The pang Avith which my heart-strings tighten, 
 
 Only the All-seeing One may know. 
 
 And I am weak ; my feeble spirit 
 Shrinks from life's task in wild dismay : 
 
 Yet not that Thou that task wouldst spare it, 
 My Father, do I dare to pray. 
 
 Into my soul Thy might infusing. 
 
 Strengthening my spirit by Thine owu, 
 
 JTp" 
 
tt 
 
 94 PRAYER FOR STRENGTH. 
 
 llel}) me — all other aid refusing — • 
 To cling to Thee, and Thee alone. 
 
 And oh ! in my exceeding weakness, 
 Make Thy strength perfect: Thou art strong 
 
 Aid me to do Thy will with meekness. 
 Thou, to whom all my powers belong. 
 
 Saviour ! our human form once wearing, 
 Help, by the memory of that day, 
 
 When, painfully Thy dark cross bearing, 
 E'en for a time Thy strength gave way. 
 
 Beneath a lighter burden sinking, 
 
 Jesus, I cast myself on Thee ; 
 Forgive, forgive this useless shrinking 
 
 From trials that I know must be. 
 
 Oh ! let me feel that Thou art near me, 
 Close to Thy side I shall not fear. 
 
 Hear me, O Strength of Israel ! hear mo ; 
 Sustain and aid 1 in mercy, hear ! 
 
 +^ np- 
 
-qn 
 
 Tf. 
 
 ONWARD. 95 
 
 ONWARD. 
 
 TRAVELER, faint not on the road, 
 Droop not In the parching sun ; 
 Onward, onward with thy load, 
 
 Till the night be won. 
 Swerve not, though thy bleeding feet 
 Fain the narrow path would leave ; 
 From the burden and the heat, 
 Thou shalt rest at eve. 
 
 Midst a world that round thee fades, 
 
 Brightening stars and twilight life ; 
 When a sacred calm pervades 
 
 All that now is strife ; 
 Rich the joy to be revealed 
 
 In that hour from labor free, 
 Bright the splendors that shall yield 
 
 Happiness to thee. 
 
 Master of a holy charm, 
 
 Yet be patient on thy way ; 
 Use the spell, and check the harm 
 
 That would lead astray. 
 From the petty cares that teem, 
 
 Turn thee, with prophetic eyo, 
 To the glory of that dream 
 
 Which shall never die. 
 
 _j:p" 
 
96 ORIEF WAS SENT THEE FOR THY GOOD. 
 
 Bj the uiysteiy of thy trust ; 
 
 By the grandeur of that hour 
 When mortality and dust 
 
 Clothed eternal power ; 
 By the purple robe of shame, 
 
 The mockery, and the insulting rod ; 
 By the anguish that o'crcame 
 
 The incarnate God : 
 
 Faint not ! fall not ! be thou strong, 
 
 Cast aAvay distrust and fear; 
 Though the weary day seems long, 
 
 Yet the night is near. 
 Friends and kindred wait beyond — 
 
 They who passed the trial pure : 
 Traveler, by that holy bond, 
 
 Shrink not to endure. 
 
 ■*P^ 
 
 GRIEF WAS SENT THEE FOR THY GOOD 
 
 SOME there are who seem exempted 
 From the doom incurred by all : 
 Are they not more sorely tempted ? 
 
 Are they not the first to fall ? 
 -tVs a mother's firm denial 
 
 Checks her infant's wayward mood, 
 Wisdom lurks in every trial — 
 Grief was sent thee for thy good. 
 
"^ 
 
 SCENES " OiV JOBDAN'S STRAND.'' 97 
 
 In the scenes of former pleasure, 
 
 Present anguish hast thou felt ; 
 O'er thy fond heart's dearest treasure, 
 
 As a mourner, hast thou knelt : 
 In thy hour of deep affliction, 
 
 Let no impious thoughts intrude : 
 Meekly bow, with this conviction — 
 
 Grief was sent thee for thy good. 
 
 SCENES " ON JORDAN'S STRANDS 
 
 THERE came a little child, with sunny hair, 
 All fearless to the brink of Death's dark 
 river, 
 And with a sweet confiding in the care 
 
 Of Him who is of life the Joy and Giver ; 
 And, as upon the waves she left our sight, 
 We heard her say: "My Saviour makes them 
 briiiht." 
 
 Next came a youth, with bearing most serene, 
 Nor turned a single backward look of sadness ; 
 
 But, as he left each gay and flowery scene, 
 
 Smiling declared: "My soul Is thrilled with 
 gladness ! 
 
98 SCENES " (?iyr JOBDAN'S STIiAI^D.' 
 
 "Wliat earth deems bright, for ever I resign. 
 Joyful but this to kiiOTV, that Christ is miiK." 
 
 An aged mourner, trembling, tottered by, 
 And paused a moment by the swelling river 
 
 Then glided on beneath the shadowy sky. 
 Singing : " Christ Jesus is my strength for evei * 
 
 Upon His arm my feeble soul I lean. 
 
 My glance meets His, without a cloud between." 
 
 And scarce her last triumphant note had died. 
 Ere hastened on a man of wealth and learning, 
 
 Who cast at once his bright renown aside, 
 These only words unto his friends returning 
 
 " Christ for my Wisdom thankfully I own. 
 
 And as ' a little child' I seek His throne." 
 
 Then saw I this : that, whether guileless child. 
 Or youth, or age, or genius, won salvation, 
 
 Each self-renouncing came ; on each God smiled; 
 Each found the love of Christ rich compensation 
 
 For loss of friends, earth's pleasures, and renown ; 
 
 Each entered heaven, and " by His side sat down." 
 
 
■* 4f 
 
 THERE IS LIOUT BEYOND. 99 
 
 THERE IS LIGHT BEYOND. 
 
 BEYOND the stars that shiiic in golden gloiy, 
 Beyond the calm sweet moon, 
 Up the bright ladder sahits have trod before thee. 
 
 Soul ! thou shalt venture soon. 
 Secure with llini who sees thy hcart-slck yearning, 
 
 Safe in His arms of love, 
 '.riiou shalt exchange the midnight for the morning, 
 And thy fair home above. 
 
 Oh ! it is sweet to watch the world's night wearing 
 
 The Sabbath morn come on, 
 And sweet it were the vineyard labor sharing — 
 
 Sweeter the labor done. 
 All finished ! all the conflict and the sorrow , 
 
 Earth's dream of anguish o'er ; 
 Deathless there dawns for thee anightless morrow 
 
 On Eden's blissful shore. 
 
 Tatience ! then, patience ! soon the pang of dying 
 
 Shall all forgotten be. 
 And thou, through rolling spheres rejoicing, Hying 
 
 Beyond tlie w.-weless sea, 
 
ij^ 
 
 00 
 
 THERE IS LTGUT BEYOND. 
 
 Sliall know liereaOci- wlicrc lliy Lord doth leid 
 thee, 
 His darkest dealings traee 
 And by those ibuntalns where His love Avill feed 
 tlicc-, 
 liehold Hint face to face. 
 
 Then bow thine liead, and God shall j^Ive thoo 
 meekness, 
 
 Bravely to do His will ; 
 So shall arise His ^loiy in thy weakness — 
 
 O stru^olinL:; sonl ! be still. 
 Daik clonds are His paAilion shining o'er thee, 
 
 'J'hinc! heart must recognize 
 The veiled ISheehinah moving on before thee, 
 
 Too bright to meet thine eyes. 
 
 Behold the -wheel that straightly moves, and lleetly 
 
 ]*erlbrms the Sovereign Word ; 
 Tiiou know'st His snllerlni; love ! then sulleriniz 
 meekly, 
 
 Follow thy loving Lord 1 
 AVateh on tlie tower, and listen by the gateway, 
 
 Nor weej) to wait alone ; 
 Take thou thy spiees, and some angel straightway 
 
 Shall roll awav the stone. 
 
 ^ 
 
 r!+ 
 

 THY WILL Bhj pone:' 
 
 101 
 
 Then sljalt thou tell thy llvliii; Lord 1 ath risen, 
 
 And risen but to save ; 
 Tell of the might that breaks the Cai:)tive's prison, 
 
 And life beyond the grav<> I 
 Tell how He met thee, all Ills radlanee shrouded^ 
 
 I low in thy sorrow came 
 His pitying voice breathing, Avlien laitli was 
 elouded, 
 
 Thine own familiar name. 
 
 So at the grave's dark portal thou may'st linger, 
 
 And hynm some happy strain ; 
 The passing world may mock the feeble singer — 
 
 Heed not, l)ut siuir a<rain. 
 Thus wait, thus Avateh, till He the last link sever, 
 
 And changeless rest be won ; 
 Then in His glory thou slialt bask for ever, 
 
 Fear not the clouds — phess on 1 
 
 ''THY WILL BE BONEr 
 
 FOUR little Avords, no more — 
 Easy to say ; 
 But thoughts that Avent before, 
 Can Avords (;oiivey ? 
 
 J aJn 
 
102 '•' TEY WILL BE BONE.-" 
 
 The struggle, only known 
 
 To one proud soul, 
 And Him whose eye alone 
 
 Has marked the whole. 
 
 Before that stubborn will 
 At length was broke, 
 
 And a low " Peace, be still !" 
 One soil Voice spoke ; 
 
 The pang, when that sad heart 
 
 Its dreams resigned, 
 And strength was found, to part 
 
 Those bonds long twined. 
 
 To yield that treasure up, 
 
 So fondly clasped, 
 To drain that bitter cup, 
 
 So sadly grasped ! 
 
 But all is calm at last, 
 " Thy will be done !" 
 
 Enough, the storm Is past, 
 The field is won. 
 
 Now for the peaceful breast, 
 
 The quiet sleep ; 
 For soul and spirit rest, 
 
 Tranquil and deep. 
 
 "Ti 
 
THEY SHALL BE MINE I 
 
 Rest, whose full bliss and power 
 
 They only know, 
 "Who knew the bitter hour 
 
 Of restless woe. 
 
 The rebel will subdued — 
 The fond heart free — 
 " Thy will be done !'* — all good 
 That comes from Thee. 
 
 All weary thought and care, 
 
 Lord, we resign ; 
 Ours is to do, to bear, 
 
 To choose is thine. 
 
 Four little words, no more — 
 
 Easy to say ; 
 But what was felt before, 
 
 Can words convey ? 
 
 103 
 
 THEY SHALL BE MINE! 
 
 " rpHEY shall be mine!" Oh I lay Ihcra 
 _L down to slumber, 
 
 Calm in the strong assurance that lie gives ; 
 He calls them by their names. He knows their 
 number. 
 And they shall live as surely as He lives. 
 
4^ 
 
 104 THEY SHALL BE MINE I 
 
 " They shall be mine !" upraised from earthlj 
 pillows, 
 Gathered from desert sand, from mountains 
 cold — 
 Called from the graves beneath old ocean's billows, 
 Called from each distant land, each scattered 
 fold. 
 
 Well might the soul, that wondrous spark of 
 being. 
 
 Lit by His breath who claims it for His own. 
 Shine in the circle which His love foreseeing, 
 
 Destined to glitter brightest by His throne. 
 
 But shall the dust from earthly dust first taken 
 And now long mingled with its native earth. 
 
 To life, to beauty, once again aAvaken, 
 
 Thrill with the rapture of a second birth ? 
 
 " They shall be mine !" they, as on earth we knew 
 them — 
 
 The lips we kissed, the hands Ave loved to press — 
 Only a fuller life be circling through them, 
 
 Unfading youth, unchanging holiness. 
 
 " They shall be mine !" children of sin and sorrow 
 Giv'st Thou, O Lord 1 heaven's almost verge to 
 them? 
 
 
^ 
 
 LEA VE ME NOT NOW. 105 
 
 No ; from cacL rifled grave Thy crown sliaU 
 borrow 
 An added light — a prized and costly gem. 
 
 They shall be mine !" Thought falls and feeling 
 
 falters, 
 Striving to sound and fathom love divine ; 
 All that we know — no time Thy promise alters — 
 All that we trust, our loved ones shall be Thine. 
 
 LEAVE ME NOT NOW. 
 
 LEAVE me not now, while still the shade is 
 creeping 
 O'er the sad heart that longs to rest In Thee *, 
 Hear my complaint, and v/hlle my soul Is weeping, 
 Breathe Thou the holy dew of sympathy. 
 
 Leave me not now. Thou Saviour of compassion. 
 While yet the busy tempter lurketh near ; 
 
 Lord, by Thine anguish and Thy wond'rous passion, 
 Do I entreat Thee now to llnf^er here. 
 
 Jesus, Thou soul of love, Thou heart of feeling, 
 Let me repose the weary night away 
 
 Safe on Thy bosom, all my woes revealing, 
 Secure from danger, till the dawn of day. 
 
 JfT 
 
-^r- l|j. 
 
 106 FAITH S REPOSE. 
 
 Then leave me not, O Comforter and Father, 
 
 Parent of love ! I live but in Thy sight ; 
 Good Shepherd, to Thy fold the wand'rer gather, 
 
 There to adore Thee, morning, noon, and night. 
 
 FAITH'S REPOSE. 
 
 FATHER, beneath Thy sheltering wing, 
 In sweet security we rest, 
 And fear no evil earth can bring, 
 In life, in death, supremely blest. 
 
 For life is good, whose tidal flow 
 The motions of Thy will obeys ; 
 
 And death is good, that makes us know 
 The Love Divine that all things sways. 
 
 And good it is to bear the cross. 
 And so Thy perfect peace to win ; 
 
 And naught is ill, nor brings us loss, 
 Nor works us harm, save only sin. 
 
 Redeemed from this, we ask no more, 
 But trust the love that saves to guide — 
 
 The grace that yields so rich a store, 
 "Will grant us all we need beside. 
 
 -T 
 
^ 
 
 THE DELECTABLE MOUNTAINS. 
 
 THE DELECTABLE MOUNTAINS. 
 
 I SEE tliem far away, 
 111 their calm beauty, on tlie evening skies, 
 Across the golden west their summits rise, 
 
 Bright with the radiance of departing day. 
 And often, ere the sunset light was gone. 
 Gazing and longing, I have hastened on, 
 As with new strength, all weariness and pain 
 Forgotten in the hope those blissful heights to gain. 
 
 Heaven lies not far beyond. 
 But these are hills of earth, our changeful air 
 Circles around them, and the dwellers there 
 
 Still own mortality's mysterious bond. 
 The ceaseless contact, the continued strife, 
 Of sin and grace, wliich can but close with life, 
 Is not yet ended, and the Jordan's roar 
 Still sounds between their path and the Celestial 
 shore. 
 
 But there, the pilgrims say. 
 On these calm heights, the tumult and the noiso 
 Of all our busy cares and restless joys 
 
 Has almost in the distance died away ; 
 All the past journey " a right way " appears. 
 Thoughts of the future wake no faithless fears, 
 
^ 
 
 THE DELECTABLE MOUNTAINS. 
 
 k 
 
 "f^S 
 
 And tlirougb tlie clouds, to their rejoicing eyes, 
 The city's golden streets and pearly gates arise. 
 
 Courage, poor fainting heart ! 
 These happy ones in the far distance seen 
 Were sinful wanderers once, as thou hast been, 
 
 AVeary and sorroAvful, as now thou art. 
 Linger no longer on the lonely plain, 
 Press boldly onward, and thou too shalt gain 
 Their vantage-ground, and then, with vigor new, 
 All thy remaining race and pilgrimage pursue. 
 
 Ah ! far too faint, too poor 
 Are all our views and aims — we only stand 
 Within the borders of the promised land, 
 
 Its precious things we seek not to secure ; 
 And thus our hands hang down, and oft unstrung 
 Our harps are left the willow-trees among . 
 Lord, lead us forward, upward, till we know 
 How much of heavenly bliss may be enjoyed be- 
 low. 
 
 " And then, said they, we will, if the day be clear, show you 
 
 the Delectable Mountains So he looked, and behold, at a 
 
 great distance he saw a most pleasant mountainous country, 
 .... very delectable to behold, .... and it ia as common, said 
 they, as this hill is, to and for all the pilgrims. And when thou 
 comest there, from thence thou mayest see to the gate of the 
 Celestial City }''—Bunyan. 
 
 ■sssBoaa^amaBi 
 
j±r L^ 
 
 TEE ANCHOR WITHIN THE VEIL. 109 
 
 THE ANCHOR WITHIN THE VEIL, 
 
 AMID the shadows and the fears 
 That overcloud this home of tears, 
 Amid my poverty and sin, 
 The tempest and the war within, 
 I east my soul on Thee, 
 Mighty to save e'en me, 
 Jesus, Thou Son of God I 
 
 Drifting across a sunless sea. 
 Cold, heavy mist, encurtaining me ; 
 Toiling along life's broken road, 
 With snares around, and foes abroad, 
 I cast my soul on Thee, 
 Mghty to save e'en me, 
 Jesus, Thou Son of God ! 
 
 Mine is a day of fear and strife, 
 
 A needy soul, a needy hfe, 
 
 A needy world, a needy age ; 
 
 Yet, in my perilous pilgrimage, 
 I cast my soul on Thee, 
 Mighty to save e'en me, 
 Jesus, Thou Son of God 1 
 
110 
 
 THE ANCEOR WITHIK TEE VEIL. 
 
 To Thee I come — ah I only Thou 
 Canst wipe the sweat from off this brow 
 Thou, only Thou, canst make me whole, 
 And soothe the fever of my soul ; 
 
 I cast my soul on Thee, 
 
 IMighty to save e'en me, 
 
 Jesus, Thou Son of God 1 
 
 On Thee I rest — Thy love and grace 
 Are my sole rock and resting-place ; 
 In Thee my thu-st and hunger sore, 
 Lord, let me quench for evermore. 
 
 I cast my soul on Thee, 
 
 Mighty to save e'en me, 
 
 Jesus, Thou Son of God ! 
 
 'Tis earth, not heaven ; 'tis night, not noon ', 
 The sorrowless is coming soon ; 
 But, till the morn of love aj)pears. 
 Which ends the travail and the tears, . 
 
 I cast my soul on Thee, 
 
 IVIighty to save e'en me, 
 
 Jesus, Thou Son of God ! 
 
 "TL- 
 
 as! wyp 
 
4^ — ^ 
 
 "T^ 
 
 aOD'S WATS. Ill 
 
 GOD'S WAYS. 
 
 HOAV few v/ho from their youthful day 
 Look on to what their life may be, 
 Painting the visions of tlie way 
 
 In colors soft, and bright, and free ; 
 How few who to such paths have brought 
 The hopes and dreams of early thought I 
 For God, through ways they have not known, 
 AVill lead His own. 
 
 The eager hearts, the sovils of fire 
 Who pant to toil for God and man. 
 
 And view with eyes of keen desire 
 The upland way of toil and pain ; 
 
 Almost with scorn they think of rest. 
 
 Of holy calm, of tranquil breast ; 
 
 But God, through ways they have not known, 
 Will lead His own. 
 
 A lowlier task on them is laid, 
 
 With love to make the labor light , 
 
 And then their beauty they must shed, 
 On quiet homes and lost to sight. 
 
 Changed are their visions high and fair, 
 
 Yet calm and still they laUor there ; 
 
 For God, through ways they have not kno\Yn, 
 Will lead His own. 
 
^ 
 
 4j- 
 
 112 
 
 GOD'S WAYS. 
 
 The gcnllc heart that thinks witli pain 
 
 It iScarcc can h)wliest tasks fulfil, 
 And if it darcMl its life to scan 
 
 Wcjiild ask liiit palJiwMy Idw and still" 
 Often such lowly heail is hron^jlit 
 To act with power beyond its th(ju;;ht ; 
 For God, throu^^h ways they have not knoun, 
 Will lead His own. 
 
 And they tlu; bright, who lon;^ to prove 
 
 In joyons path, in cloudless lot. 
 How fn^sh from ear'th their ^ratcifnl love 
 
 (Jan spriiiL^ without a stain or s[)ot ; 
 ()ft(Mi such youlliful heart is given 
 The path of grief to walk to heaven ; 
 For (Jod, thi'ough ways they ]iav(i not known, 
 AV'ill lead His <;wn. 
 
 What matter Avhat th(i ])ath shall be V 
 The end is clear and bright to view : 
 
 He knows that we a strength shall see 
 Whate'cr the day shall bring to do: 
 
 We Be(j the end, the house of (iod, 
 
 liut not the path to that alnxhi ; 
 
 For (jod, through ways tJniy hav(5 not known, 
 Will lead His own. 
 
 ^ 
 
 I^ 
 
4^ 
 
 DISTR ACTIO XS JX PR AY Eli. 
 
 113 
 
 nisiTRACTiom IX rnAYh'R. 
 
 I CANNOT pniy; yet Loi-d, Ihoii kiiow'st. 
 IMio ])<'iin It is to nui, 
 To have my vainly strn^<ji;Iiii<^ (hotiglils 
 'I'lius toi'ii away rroiii Tlirc. 
 
 Prayer was not meant for liixiuy 
 
 Of sclfisli pastime sweet ; 
 -It is the prostrate creature's i)laco 
 
 At his Creator's feet. 
 
 H;ul I, (h'ar Fiord, no ])leasMi*<> found 
 
 Hilt in th(», thoughts of Thee, 
 J'rayer would liavc couu^ nnsou^^ht, and .leon 
 
 A truer liberty. 
 
 Yet U'liou art oft most present, Lord, 
 
 In weak distra(!ted prayctr ; 
 A sinner out of heart with self, 
 
 Most often fnids Thee there. 
 
 T^ 
 
 And i)rayer that humbles sets tho scul 
 
 From all illusions fn^e, 
 And teaehes it how utterly, 
 
 Dear I^ord, it han<^s on Thee. 
 
 -Jp" 
 
^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 114 
 
 MT GUEST. 
 
 The soul that on self-sacrifice 
 
 Is dutifully bent, 
 Will bless the chasteninsj Land that makes 
 
 Its prayer its punishment. 
 
 Ah, Jesus ! "why should I complain ? 
 
 And why fear aught but sin ? 
 Distractions are but outward things ; 
 
 Thy peace dwells far within ! 
 
 These surface troubles come and go 
 
 Like rufflings of the sea ; 
 The deeper depth is out of reach 
 
 To all, my God, but Thee ! 
 
 MY GUEST. 
 
 HAVE a wonderful Guest, 
 Who speeds my feet, who moves my hands, 
 Wlio strengthens, comforts, guides, commands, 
 Whose presence gives me rest. 
 
 He dwells within my soul ; 
 
 He swept away the filth and gloom, 
 He garnished fair the empty room, 
 
 And now pervades the whole. 
 
 BoaaBBaMiHKiiyH 
 
% 
 
 MY GUEST. 115 
 
 For aye, by day and night, 
 He keeps the portal — suffers naught 
 Defile the temple He has bought, 
 
 And filled with joy and light. 
 
 Once 'twas a cavern dim ; 
 The home of evil thoughts, desii'cs, 
 Enkindled by infernal fires, 
 
 "Without one thought of Him. 
 
 Regenerated by His grace, 
 Still 'tis a meagre inn, at best, 
 "Wherein the Iving's to make His rest, 
 
 And show His glorious face. 
 
 Yet, Saviour, ne'er depart 
 From this poor earthly cottage home. 
 Until the Father bid me come, 
 
 "Whisp'rlng within my heart : 
 
 "I shake these cottage walls ; 
 Fear not ! at My command they bow ; 
 My heavenly mansions open now, 
 
 As this poor dwelling falls." 
 
 Then my dear wondrous Guest 
 Shall bear me on His own right Iiand 
 Unto that fair and Promised Land, 
 
 "Where I in Him shall rest. 
 
 Jl 
 
 l:^ 
 
tJ' % 
 
 116 COMING. 
 
 COMING. 
 
 At even, or at midnight, or at the cock-crowing, or iu the 
 morning." 
 
 k i "|~T may be in the evening, 
 
 _1_ Wlien the ■work of the day is done, 
 And you have time to sit in the twilight 
 
 And watch the sinking sun, 
 While the long bright day dies sloAvly 
 
 Over the sea, 
 And the hour grows quiet and holy 
 
 With thoughts of nie ; 
 Vvliile you hear tlie village children 
 
 Passing along the street, 
 Among those thronging footstcjDS 
 
 May come the sound of my feet 
 Therefore I tell you : Watch 
 
 By the light of the evening star, 
 When the room is growing dusky 
 
 As the clouds afar ; 
 Let the door be on the latch 
 
 In your home. 
 For it may be through the gloaming 
 
 I will come. 
 
 " It may be when the midnight 
 Is heavy upon the land, 
 
 ■ i ft. 
 
"TH^ 
 
 4^ 
 
 COMING. 117 
 
 ./iViid ilic black waves lying dumbly 
 
 Along tlie sand ; 
 AVhen the moonless night draws close, 
 And the lights are out in the house ; 
 When the fires burn low and red, 
 And the watch is ticking loudly 
 
 Beside the bed : 
 Though you sleep, tired out, on your couch, 
 Still your heart must wake and watch 
 
 In the dark room, 
 For it may be that at midnight 
 
 I will come. 
 
 " It may be at the cock-crow, 
 When the night is dying slowly 
 
 In the sky, 
 And the sea looks calm and holy, 
 
 Waitinrj for the dawn 
 
 Of the golden sun 
 
 Which draweth nigh ; 
 When the mists are on the valleys, shailing 
 
 The rivers chill. 
 And my morning-star is fading, fading 
 
 Over the hill : 
 Behold I say unto you ; Watch 5 
 Let the door be on the latch 
 
 In your home ; 
 In the chill before the dawning. 
 
■fr 
 
 ^ 
 
 318 GOMINO. 
 
 Between the niglit and morning, 
 I may come. 
 
 " Jt may be in the morning, 
 
 When the sun is bright and strong 
 And the dew is glittering sharply 
 
 Over the little lawn ; 
 When the waves are laughing loudly 
 
 Along the shore, 
 And the little birds are singing sweetly 
 
 About the door ; 
 With the long day's work beiore yon, 
 
 You rise uj) with the sun. 
 And the neighbors come in to talk a little 
 
 Of all that must be done, 
 But remember that / may be ihe next 
 
 To come in at the door, 
 To call you from all your busy work 
 
 For evermore : 
 As you work your heart must watch 
 For the door is on the latch 
 
 In your room. 
 And it may be in the morning 
 
 I will come." 
 
 So He passed down my cottage garden. 
 By the path that leads to the sea, 
 
 j:^" 
 
if, 
 
 COMINO. 119 
 
 Till He came to the turn of the little road 
 Where the birch and laburnum tree 
 
 Lean over and arch the way ; 
 
 There I saw him a moment stay, 
 And turn once more to me, 
 As I wept at the cottage door, 
 
 And lift up His hands in blessing — 
 Then I saw His face no more. 
 
 And I stood stiU in the doorway, 
 
 Leaning against the wall. 
 Not heedinjc the fair white roses, 
 
 Though I crushed them and let them fall 
 Only looking down the pathway , 
 
 And looking toward the sea, 
 And wondering, and wondering 
 
 When He would come back for me ; 
 Till I was aware of an Angel 
 
 Who was going swiftly by. 
 With the gladness of one who goeth 
 
 In the light of God Most High. 
 
 lie passed the end of the cottage 
 Toward the garden gate — 
 (I suppose he was come down 
 At the setting of the sun 
 
 , ll— ■ 
 
120 coMJxa. 
 
 To comfort some one in the village 
 
 Whose dwelling was desolate) — 
 And he paused before the door 
 
 Beside my place, 
 And the likeness of a smile 
 
 Was on his face : 
 " Weep not," he said, " for unto you is given 
 
 To watch for the coming of His feet 
 Who is the glory of our blessed heaven ; 
 
 The work and watching will be very 
 sweet, 
 
 Even in an earthly home ; 
 And in such an iiour as you think not 
 
 He will come." 
 
 So I am watcliing quietly 
 
 Every day. 
 Whenever the sun shines brightly, 
 
 I rise and say : 
 " Surely it is the shining of His face !" 
 
 And look unto the gates of His high place 
 
 Beyond the sea ; 
 For I know He is coming shortly 
 
 To summon me. 
 And when a shadoAv falls across the window 
 
 Of my room, 
 WTierc I am working my appointed task. 
 
 n 
 Tfl 
 
■tf' 4t 
 
 A QUIET MIND. 121 
 
 I lif^ my liead to watch the door and ask 
 
 If He is come ; 
 And the Angel answers sweetly 
 
 In my home : 
 " Only a few more shadows, 
 
 And He will come." 
 
 A QUIET MIND. 
 
 I HAVE a treasm-e which I prize ^ 
 Its like I cannot find : 
 There's nothing like it on the earth ; 
 'Tis this — a quiet mind. 
 
 But 'tis not that Fm stupefied, 
 
 Or senseless, dull, or blind ; 
 'Tis God's own peace within my heart, 
 
 Which forms my quiet mind. 
 
 I found this treasure at the cross : 
 
 And there, to every kind 
 Of weary, heavy-laden souls, 
 
 Christ gives a quiet mind. 
 
 My Saviour's death and risen life, 
 
 To give it were designed ; 
 His love, the never-failing spring 
 
 Of this, my quiet mind. 
 
 ■ 1 ^^^1 
 
■^ ^ 
 
 122 * A QUIET MIND. 
 
 ITie love of God witliin my breast^, 
 My heart to Him doth bind ; 
 
 This is the peace of heaven on earth— 
 This is my quiet mind. 
 
 I've many a cross to take up now, 
 
 And many left behind ; 
 But present troubles move me not, 
 
 Nor shake my quiet mind. 
 
 And what may be to-morrow's cross, 
 
 I never seek to find ; 
 My Saviour says : " Leave that to mo, 
 
 And keep a quiet mind." 
 
 And well I know the Lord hath said, 
 To make my heart resigned, 
 
 That mercy still shall follow those 
 A^V ho have this quiet mind. 
 
 J meet with pride of wit and wealtli, 
 And scorn, and looks unkind ; 
 
 It matters not — ^I envy none. 
 While I've a quiet mind. 
 
 I'm waiting now to see my Lord, 
 
 So patient and so kind ; 
 I want to thank Ilim face to face. 
 
 For this my quiet mind. 
 
 +^ rp- 
 
"pr 
 
 "Tit 
 
 ALL rS LIGHT. '123 
 
 ALL IS LIGHT. 
 "TXyilAT though storm-clouds gather round 
 
 Hovering darkly o'er my way ? 
 While I see the cross of Calvary 
 Beaming with celestial ray, 
 All is light, all is light ! 
 
 What though mortal powers may falter ? 
 
 Earthly plans and prospects fail ? 
 With a heaven-born hope which entcrcth 
 
 E'en to that within the veil, 
 All is light, all is light ! 
 
 'SVTiat though all my future pathway 
 
 Be from mortal sight concealed? 
 With the love of Jesus glowing, 
 
 As it lies to faith revealed. 
 All is light, all is light ! 
 
 E'en though death's deep vale before me 
 Seem o'erspread with thickest gloom, 
 
 >Miile I see a heavenly radiance 
 Bursting from beyond the tomb, 
 All is light, all is light I 
 
 ^ 
 
I'JT" 
 
 4t 
 
 124 LONGINGS. 
 
 L N GIN QS. 
 
 WHEN shall I be at rest? My trembling 
 heart 
 GroAvs weary of its burden, sickening still 
 With hopes deferred. Oh ! that it were Thy 
 will 
 To loose my bonds, and take me where Thou art ! 
 
 When shall I be at rest ? My eyes grow dim 
 With straining through the gloom ; I scarce can 
 
 see 
 The waymarks that my Saviour left for me. 
 
 Would it were morn, and I were safe with Him 1 
 
 When shall I be at rest ? Hand over hand 
 I grasp, and climb an ever steeper hill, 
 A rougher path. Oh ! that it were Thy will 
 
 My tired feet might tread the Promised Land ! 
 
 Oh ! that I were at rest ! A thousand fears 
 Come thronging o'er me, lest I fall at last. 
 Would I were safe, all toil and danger past, 
 
 And Thine own hands might wipe away my teais. 
 
 ■»li rE*- 
 
^ ^ 
 
 LOiTGIirGS. 125 
 
 Oh ! that I were at rest, like some I love, 
 Whose last fond looks drew half my life away, 
 Sceminf^ to plead that either they might stay 
 
 A7ith me on earth, or I with them above. 
 
 But why these murmurs ? Thou didst never 
 shrink 
 From any toil or weariness for me — 
 Not even from that last deep agony. 
 
 Shall I beneath my little trials sink ? 
 
 No, Lord ; for when I am indeed at rest, 
 One taste of that deep bliss will quite efiaco 
 The sternest memories of my earthly race, 
 
 Save but to swell the sense of beino- blest. 
 
 Then lay on me whatever cross I need 
 
 To bring me there. I know Thou canst not be 
 Unkind, unfaithful, or untrue to me 1 
 
 Shall I not toil for Thee, when Thou for me didst 
 bleed? 
 
 rp" 
 
^ 
 
 326 BRIDGES. 
 
 . ■'p. 
 
 BRID G ES. 
 
 I HAVE a bridge within my heart, 
 Known as the Bridge of Sighs ; 
 It stretches from life's sunny part, 
 To where its darkness lies. 
 
 And when upon this bridge I stand, 
 
 To watch life's tide below, 
 Sad thoughts come from the shadowy land 
 
 And darken all its flow. 
 
 Then, as it winds its way along 
 
 To sorrow's bitter sea, 
 Oh ! mournful is the spirit-song 
 
 That upwaid floats to me. 
 
 A song which breathes of blessings dead, 
 Of friends and friendships flown ; 
 
 And pleasures gone ! — their distant tread, 
 Now to an echo grown. 
 
 And hearing thus, beleaguering fears 
 
 Soon shut the present out. 
 While joy but in the past appears, 
 
 And in the future doubt. 
 
 Oh 1 often then will deeper grow, * 
 
 The night that round me lies ^ 
 I wish that Hfe had run its flow, 
 
 Or never found its rise ! 
 
-jjr 
 
 •+T1 
 
 ■rajsa P- 
 
 LJ»|. 
 
 BRIDGES. 127 
 
 I have a bridge within my heart, 
 Known as the Bridge of Faith ; 
 
 It spans, by a mysterious art. 
 The streams of life and death. 
 
 And when upon this bridge I stand, 
 
 To watch the tide below. 
 Sweet thoughts come from the sunny land, 
 • And brighten all its flow. 
 
 Then, as it winds its way along 
 
 Down to a distant sea. 
 Oh ! pleasant is the spirit-song 
 
 That upward floats to me. 
 
 A song of blessings never sere, 
 
 Of love " beyond compare," 
 Of pleasures flowed from troublings hero, 
 
 To rise serenely there. 
 
 And, hearing thus, a peace divine 
 
 Soon shuts each sorrow out ; 
 And all is hopeful and benign, 
 
 Where all was fear and doubt. 
 
 Oh I often then will brighter grow 
 
 The light that round me lies , 
 I see from life's beclouded flow 
 
 A crystal stream arise. 
 
f 
 
 ^J- 
 
 128 ''FATHER, TAKE MY BAND."" 
 
 ''FATHER, TAKE MY RAN Br 
 
 THE way is dark, my Fathei- ! Cloud on cloud 
 Is gathering thickly o'er my head, and loud 
 The thunders roar above me. See, I stand 
 Like one bewildered ! Father, take my hand, 
 And through the gloom 
 Lead safely home 
 Thy child ! 
 
 The day goes flist, my Father ! and the night 
 Is drawing darkly down. My faithless sight 
 Sees ghostly visions. Fears, a spectral band, 
 Encompass me. O Father 1 take my hand. 
 
 And from the night 
 
 Lead up to light 
 Thy child ! 
 
 The way is long, my Father ! and my soul 
 Longs for the rest and quiet of the goal : 
 While yet I journey through this weary land, 
 Keep mc from wandering. Father, take my hand \ 
 
 Quickly and straight 
 
 Lead to heaven's gate 
 Thy child I 
 
 ii n 
 
,f r 
 
 ' FA THER, TAKE MY HAXD:' 129 
 
 The path is rough, my Father I Many a thorn 
 Has pierced me ; and my weary feet, all torn 
 And bleeding, mark the way. Yet thy command 
 Bids me press forward. Father, take my hand ; 
 
 Then, safe and blest, 
 
 Lead up to rest 
 Thy chUd I 
 
 The throng is great, my Father 1 Many a doubt 
 And fear and danger compass me about ; 
 And foes oppress me sore. I cannot stand 
 Or go alone. O Father ! take my hand, 
 
 And throuojh the throng 
 
 Lead safe along 
 Thy child! 
 
 The cross is heavy. Father ! I have borne 
 It long, and still do bear it. Let my worn 
 And fainting spirit rise to that blest land 
 Where orowns are given. Father, take my hand j 
 
 And, reaching down 
 
 Lead to the crown 
 Thy chUd 1 
 
130 THE GRACIOUS ANSWER. 
 
 
 THE GRACIOUS ANSWER. 
 
 The way is dark, my cldld! hut leads to light. 
 I iDoidd not always have thee lualk by sight. 
 My dealings now thou canst not understand. 
 I meant it so ; hut I will take thy hand, 
 
 And through the gloom 
 
 Lead safely home 
 My child 1 
 
 The day goes fast, my child! But is the nigJd 
 Barker to me than day ? In me is light ! 
 Keep close to me, and every spectral band 
 Of fears shall vanish, I will take thy hand. 
 
 And through the night 
 
 Lead up to light 
 My child! 
 
 The way is long, my child ! But it shall be 
 JVot one step longer than is best for thee , 
 And thou shalt hiow, at last, when thou shall stand 
 Safe at the goal, how I did take thy hand, 
 
 And quick and straight 
 
 Lead to heaven's gate 
 My child ! 
 
 % 
 

 THE GRACIOUS ANSWER. 131 
 
 The path is rough, mij child I But oh ! hon swco.i 
 Will he the rest, for iveary pilgrims meet, 
 Wien thou shalt reach the borders of that land 
 To which I lead thee, as I take thy hand , 
 
 And safe and hlcst 
 
 With me shalt rest 
 My child ! 
 
 The throng is great, my child ! But at thy side 
 Thy Father icalks : then he not terrified ' 
 For I am loith thee ; zvill thy foes command 
 To let thee freely pass ; icitl take thy handy 
 
 And through the throng 
 
 Lead safe along 
 My child I 
 
 The cross h heavy, child! Yet there was One 
 Who hore a heavier for thee : my Son, 
 My Well-heloved. For Ilim hear thine ; and stand 
 With Him at last ; and, from thy Father's hand. 
 Thy cross laid down, 
 Receive a crown, 
 My child ! 
 
 H. N, C. 
 Oroomiah, Persic. 
 
 pan* 
 
 m iv 
 
132 ASLEEP ON GUARD t 
 
 ASLEEP ON GUARD! 
 
 ^^ /^ SHAME!" we're sometimes fain to say 
 \_y " On Peter sleeping, while Kis clear Lord 
 lay 
 ANvake Avith anguish, in the garden's shade, 
 Waiting Ilis hour to be betrayed." 
 
 We say, or think, if we had gone 
 Thither — instead of Peter, James, and John — 
 And Christ had left us on the outpost dim, 
 As sentinels, to watch with Him ; 
 
 "We would have sooner died, than sleep 
 
 The little time we vigil had to keep ; 
 
 Then wake, to feel His torturing question's power 
 
 '• Could ye not watch with me one hour ?" 
 
 One hour in sad Gethsemane ! 
 
 And such an hour as that to Him must be ! 
 
 All night our tireless eyes had pierced the shade, 
 
 YvTiere He in grief's great passion prayed. 
 
 What do we now, to make our word 
 Seem no vain boast of love to Christ our Lord T 
 We cannot take the chidden sleeper's place, 
 And shun, by proof. His deep disgrace I 
 
 
# 
 
 it. 
 
 ASLEEP ON" GUARD t 
 
 133 
 
 No more, the olive's shade beneath, 
 The human Christ foretastes the cup of death, 
 And leaves His servants in the outer gloom. 
 To watch till He again shall come ! 
 
 Yet arc there midnights dark and di-ead, 
 When Jesus still by traitors is betrayed ; 
 Our bosom-sin's the lurking foe at hand, 
 And "Watch with me" is Christ's command. 
 
 One little hour of sleepless care, 
 And sin could wrest no victory from us there , 
 But, with the fame of our loved Lord to keep, 
 Like those we scorn, we fall asleep. 
 
 Oh ! if our risen Lord must chide 
 Our souls, for slumbering His death-cross beside, 
 What face have we to boast our feeble sense 
 Had shamed poor Peter's vigilance I 
 
 On Peter, James, and John, no more 
 The wrong reproach of hasty pride we pour j 
 But feel within the question's torturing power, 
 " Could 7je not wateh with me one hour?" 
 
 "TTL- 
 
 au^9 n irri— 
 
 tmaoBHafiyBi 
 
 rf" 
 
B>aaBaQAaMBCKSB9BBBlH 
 
 T-f- 
 
 13d 
 
 TRE HOUR OF PRAYER. 
 
 TEE HOUR OF PRAYER. 
 
 MY God, is any hour so sweet, 
 From blush of morn to evening star. 
 As that which calls me to Thy feet — 
 The hour of prayer ! 
 
 Blest is that tranquil hour of morn. 
 And blest that hour of solemn eve. 
 
 When, on the wings of faith up-borne, 
 The world I leave ! 
 
 For then a day-spring shines on mc. 
 Brighter than morn's ethereal glow : 
 
 And richer dews descend from Thee 
 Than earth can know. 
 
 Then is my strength by Thee renewed ; 
 
 Then do I feel my sins forgiven ; 
 Then dost Thou cheer my solitude 
 
 With joys of heaven. 
 
 No words can tell what sweet relief 
 There for my every want I find ; 
 
 What strength for warfare, balm for griof, 
 What peace of mind. 
 

 THY WILL BE DONE. 
 
 135 
 
 Iluslied is each doubt, gone every fear ', 
 My spirit seems in heaven to stay ^ 
 
 And e'en the penitential tear 
 Is wiped away. 
 
 Lord ! till I reach that blissful shore, 
 No privilege so dear shall be, 
 
 As thus my inmost soul to pour 
 In prayer to Thee. 
 
 THY WILL BE BONE. 
 
 WE see not, know not. All our way 
 Is night. With Thee alone is day \ 
 From out the torrent's troubled drift, 
 Above the storm — our prayers we lift — 
 Thy will be done ! 
 
 The flesh may fail, the heart may faint, 
 But who-are we, to make complaint, 
 Or dare to plead, in times like these, 
 The weakness of our love of ease ? 
 Thy will be done ! 
 
 We take with solemn thankfulness 
 (Jur burden faj), nor ask it less ; 
 And count it joy that even wo 
 
4^ 
 
 1 
 
 136 TET WILL J3E DONi:. 
 
 May suffer, serve, or wait for Thee, 
 AVhose Avill be done 1 
 
 lliough dim, as yet, in tint and line, 
 We trace Thy picture's wise design, 
 And thank Thee that our age supplies 
 Its dark relief of sacrifice — 
 Thy will be done ! 
 
 And if, in our unworthiness, 
 Thy sacrificial wine we press ; 
 If, from Thy ordeal's heated bars, 
 Our feet arc seamed with crimson scars, 
 Thy will be done ! 
 
 i^^ for the age to come, this Iiour 
 Of trial hath vicarious power ; 
 And, blest by Thee, our present pain 
 Be Liberty's eternal gain, 
 Thy will be done ! 
 
 Strike ! Thou the Master, we Thy keys, 
 The anthem of the destinies ! 
 The minor of Thy loftier strain, 
 Our hearts shall breathe the old rcfraia — 
 Thy will be done I 
 
 mmtm la 
 
 fyT" 
 
4^ — 4*- 
 
 RFMir OF TRUST. 137 
 
 HY2m OF TRUST. 
 
 LOVE Divine ! that stooped to share 
 Our sharpest pang, our bitterest teart 
 On Thee we cast each earth-born care ; 
 We smile at pain while Thou art near ! 
 
 Though long the weary way we tread, 
 And sorrows crown each lingering year, 
 
 No path we shun, no darkness dread, 
 
 Our hearts still whispering, Thou art near ! 
 
 When drooping pleasure turns to grief, 
 xind trembling faith is changed to fear, 
 
 The murmuring wind, the quivering leaf, 
 Shall softly tell us, Thou art near I 
 
 On Tliee we fling our burdening woe, 
 
 O Love Divine ! for ever dear ; 
 Content to suffer, while we know, 
 
 Lining and dying. Thou art near ! 
 
 "*P~ Tp" 
 
tt 
 
 13:8 TffS BURIAL OF MOSES. 
 
 THE BURIAL OF 310 SES, 
 
 BY Nebo's lonely mountain, 
 On this side Jordan's •wave, 
 In a vale in the land of Moab, 
 
 There lies a lonely grave ; 
 And no man dug that sepulchre, 
 
 And no man saw it e'er. 
 For the " Sons of God " upturned the sod, 
 And laid the dead man there. 
 
 That "was the grandest funeral 
 
 That ever passed on earth ; 
 But no man heard the trampling, 
 
 Or saw the train go forth. 
 Noiselessly as the day-light 
 
 Comes when the night is done, 
 And the crimson streak on ocean's check 
 
 Grows into the great sun — 
 
 Noiselessly as the spring-time 
 
 Her crown of verdure weaves 
 And all the trees on all the hills 
 
 Open their thousand leaves ^ 
 
. tl ,.... 
 
 TZ 
 
 TME BURIAL OF MOSES. 
 
 139 
 
 So, wltliout sound of music, 
 
 Or voice of tbcm that wept, 
 Silently down from the mountain's crown 
 
 The great procession swept. 
 
 Perchance the bald old eagle, 
 
 On gray Beth-peor's height, 
 Out of his rocky eyry 
 
 Looked on the wondrous sight ; 
 Perchance the lion stalking 
 
 Still shuns that hallo w^ed spot : 
 For beast and bird have seen and heard 
 
 That which man knoweth not. 
 
 But when the warrior dieth, 
 
 His comrades in the war, 
 With arms reversed, and muffled driun, 
 
 Follow the funeral car. 
 They show the banners taken, 
 
 They tell his battles won. 
 And after him lead his masterless steed, 
 
 While peals the minute-gun. 
 
 Amid the noblest of the land 
 
 Men lay the sage to rest, 
 And give the bard an honored place, 
 
 With costiv marble drest — 
 
 I 11 I n.. B m».J .vujjncy r .ii'."i.-ni '» ii.— ^. ' ..^.-g a s. 
 
 r 
 

 140 TffE BUEIAL OF MOSES. 
 
 Li tlie great minster trcansept, 
 
 "Wlicre lights like glories fall, 
 And the sweet choir sings, and the organ ring* 
 
 Along the emblazoned wall. 
 
 This was the bravest warrior 
 
 That ever buckled sword ; 
 This, the most gifted poet 
 
 That ever breathed a word ; 
 And never earth's philosopher 
 
 Traced with his golden pen, 
 On the deathless page, truths half so sago 
 
 As he wrote down for men. 
 
 And had he not high honor ? 
 
 The hill-side for his pall, 
 To He in state while angels wait, 
 
 With stars for tapers tall. 
 And the dark rock-pines like tossing plumes 
 
 Over his bier to wave. 
 And God's own hand, in that lonely land, 
 
 To lay him in the grave I 
 
 In that deep grave without a name, 
 
 Whence his uncoffined clay 
 Shall break again — most wondrous thought — 
 
 Before the Judgment-day, 
 
4^ 
 
 
 "JV'OTF." 141 
 
 And stand, with glory wrapped around, 
 
 On the hills he never trod, 
 And speak of the strife that won our life 
 
 With the Incarnate Son of God. 
 
 lonely tomb In Moab's land 1 
 
 O dark Beth-peor hill I 
 Speak to these curious hearts of em's, 
 
 And teach them to be still. 
 God hath His mysteries of grace, 
 
 "Ways that we cannot tell ; 
 And hides them deep, like the secret sleep 
 
 Of him He loved so well. 
 
 "AT TT '[ 
 
 ^ ^ ~jr^ ISE ! for the day Is passing, 
 l\i And you lie dreaming on *, 
 The others have buckled their armor, 
 
 And forth to the fight are gone : 
 A place in the ranks awaits you. 
 
 Each man has some part to play ; 
 The Past and Future are looking 
 
 In the face of the stern To-day *' 
 
 Jv 
 
142 THE NEED OF JESUS. 
 
 THE NEED OF JESUS. 
 
 I NEED Thee, precious Jesus! 
 For I am full of sin ; 
 My soul is dark and guilty. 
 
 My heart is dead within ; 
 .1 need the cleansing fountain, 
 Where 1 can always flee — 
 The blood of Christ most preciois, 
 The sinner's perfect plea. 
 
 I need Thee, precious Jesus 1 
 
 For I am very poor ; 
 A stranger and a pilgrim, 
 
 I have no earthly store ; 
 I need the love of Jesus, 
 
 To cheer me on my way : 
 To guide my doubting footsteps, 
 
 To be my strength and stay. 
 
 I need Thee, precious Jesus I 
 
 I need a friend like Thee — 
 A friend to soothe and sympathize; 
 
 A friend to care for me ; 
 I need the heart of Jesus, 
 
 To feel each anxious care, 
 To tell my every want, 
 
 And all my sorrows share. 
 
 h 
 
+J ■- J+ 
 
 TffE 2JE-ED OF JESUS. 143 
 
 I need Thee, precious Jesus I 
 
 For I am very blind ; 
 A weak and foolish wanderer, 
 
 With a dark and evil mind •, 
 I need the light of Jesus, 
 
 To tread the thorny road, 
 To guide me safe to glory — 
 
 Where I shall see my God. 
 
 I need Thee, precious Jesus I 
 
 I need Thee day by day — 
 To fill me with Thy fulness, 
 
 To lead me on my way ; 
 I need Thy Holy Spirit, 
 
 To teach me what I am, 
 To show me more of Jesus, 
 
 To point me to the Lamb, 
 
 I need Thee, precious Jesus ! 
 
 And hope to see Thee soon, 
 Encircled with the rainbow, 
 
 And seated on Thy throne ; 
 There, with Thy blood-bought cliilireai, 
 
 My joy shall ever be, 
 To sing Thy praises, Jesus ! 
 
 To gaze, my Lord, on Thee ! 
 
 "T" 
 
j±i~ — lL. 
 
 144 TJIS CEEISTIAN AND HIS ECHO. 
 
 THE CHRISTIAN- AND HIS ECHO. 
 
 TRUE faith, producing love to God and man, 
 Say, Echo, is not this the Gospel plan ? 
 The Gospel plan. 
 
 Must I my faith and love to Jesus show, 
 By doing good to all, both friend and foe ? 
 Both friend and foe. 
 
 But if a brother hates and treats me ill, 
 Must I return him good, and love him still ? 
 Love him still. 
 
 If he my failings -watches to reveal, 
 Must I his fliults as carefully conceal ? 
 As carefully conceal. 
 
 But if my name and character he blast, 
 And cruel malice, too, a long time last; 
 And, if I sorrow and affliction know, 
 He loves to add unto my cup of woe ; 
 In this uncommon, this peculiar case, 
 Sweet Echo, say, must I still love and bless ? 
 Still love and bless. 
 
 Whatever usage ill I may receive, 
 Must I be patient still, and still forgive ? 
 
 Be patient still, and still forgive. 
 
f 
 
 
 TEE GERISTIAN AND ni^ ECHO. 146 
 
 Why, Echo how is this V thou'rt sure a dove ! 
 Thy voice shall teach me nothing else but love ! 
 Kothing else but love. 
 
 Amen ! with all my heart, then be it so ; 
 *Tis all delightful, just, and good, I know; 
 And now to practise I'll directly go. 
 Directly go. 
 
 Things being so, whoever me reject, 
 My gracious God me surely will protect. 
 Surely will protect. 
 
 Henceforth I'll roll on Plim my every care, 
 And then both friend and foe embrace in prayer, 
 Embrace in prayer. 
 
 But after all those duties I have done, 
 Must I, in point of merit, them disown. 
 And trust for heaven through Jesus' blood alone ? 
 Through Jesus' blood alone. 
 
 Echo, enough ! thj'" counsels to mine ear, 
 Are sweeter than, to flowers, the dew-drop tear ; 
 Thy wise instructive lessons please me weU : 
 I'll go and practise them. Farewell, farewell I , 
 Pkactise them. Farewell, farewelll 
 
 
146 LUSS AXD MOEK 
 
 LESS AND MORE. 
 
 ri^VsO prayers, dear Lord, in one — 
 _1_ Give me both less and more ; 
 Less of tbc impatient -world, and more of Theo ; 
 
 Less of myself, and all that heretofore 
 IMade me to slip Avhere -willing feet do run, 
 And held me back from -where I fain -would be — 
 
 Kept me, my Lord, from Thee ! 
 
 All things -which most I need 
 
 Are Thine ; Thou -wilt besto-w 
 Both strength and shield, and be my -willing Guest ; 
 
 Yet my -sveak heart takes up a broken reed. 
 Thy rod and stalT doth readily forego. 
 And I, -who might be rich, am poor, distressed, 
 
 And seek but have not rest. 
 
 How long, O Lord, ho-w long ? 
 
 So have I cried of late, 
 As though I kne-w not -\vhat I -v^'ell do kno-vN' ; 
 
 Come Thou, Great Master Builder, and creaio 
 Anew that which is Thine ; undo my wrong — 
 Bj'cathe on this waste, and life and healtli besto-w 
 
 Come, Lord, let it be so ! 
 
 ^ 
 
 '— ' — -I I I - '~' \ •■ "^ 
 
COMFORT BY THE WAY. 147 
 
 "^ 
 
 Let It be so, and tlicn — 
 
 AVliat thcii ? My soul sliall ^rait, 
 And ever pray— all prayers, dear Lord, in one — 
 
 Thy will o'er mine in all this mortal state 
 Hold regal sway. To Tliy commands, Amen ! 
 Break from my waiting lips till work is done, 
 
 And crown and glory won. 
 
 OOMFORT BY THE WAT. 
 
 I JOURNEY tlirough a desert drear and wild. 
 Yet is my heart by such sweet thoughts 
 beguiled. 
 Of Him on whom I lean — my strength and stay — 
 I can forget the sorrows of the way. 
 
 Thoughts of His love ! tlie root of every grace 
 Which finds in this poor heart a dwelling-place ; 
 Tiie sunshine of my soul, tlian day more bright, 
 And my calm pillow of repose by night. 
 
 Thoughts of His sojourn in this vale of tears I 
 The tale of love unfolded in those years 
 
 
148 
 
 BETROSPEOT. 
 
 Of sinless suflering and patient grace 
 I love again, and yet again, to trace. 
 
 '.riionghts of His glory ! on the cross I gaze, 
 And tliere behold its sad, yet healing rays ; 
 Beacon of hope I which, lifted up on high, 
 Illumes Avitli heavenly light the tear-dimmed eye. 
 
 Thoughts of His coming ! For that joyful day 
 In patient hope I watch, and wait, and pray ; 
 The dawn draws nigh, the midnight shadows flee, 
 And what a sunrise will that advent be 
 
 Thus while I journey on, my Lord to meet, 
 IMy thoughts and meditations are so sweet 
 Of Him on whom I lean — my strength, my stay — 
 I can forget the Borrows of the way. 
 
 RETROSPECT. 
 
 O LOVING One! O Bounteous One I 
 What have I not received from Tlicc, 
 Throughout the seasons that have gone 
 Into the past eternity I 
 
 Lowly my name and mine estate ; 
 Yet, Father, many a child of Thine, 
 
I I i 
 
 fll. 
 
 Of i)urG'' heart and cleaner bands, 
 Walks in an humbler path than mhio. 
 
 And, looking backward through the year 
 Along tlie way my feet have pressed, 
 
 I sec sweet places everywhere — 
 
 Sweet places Avhere my soul had rest. 
 
 For, though some human hopes of mine 
 Are dead, and buried from my sight, 
 
 Yet from their graves immortal flowers 
 Have sprung, and blossomed into light. 
 
 Body, and heart, and soul have been 
 Fed by the most convenient food ; 
 
 My nights are peaceful all the while, 
 And all my mortal days are good. 
 
 My sorrows have not been so lio-ht 
 
 Thy chastening hand I could not traco ; 
 
 Nor have my blessings been so great 
 That they have hid mj- Father's face. 
 
 \ [ [,• 
 
 sum ospscT. 149 
 
160 THE VERDICT OF DEATH. 
 
 now DOTH DEATH SPEAK OF OUR 
 BELOVED f 
 
 ■ " The rain that falls upon the height, 
 Too gently to be called delight. 
 In the dark valley reappears 
 ^3 a wild cataract of tears : 
 And love in life shall strive to see 
 ■ Sometimes what love in death would be." 
 
 Angel in ihe House, 
 
 HOW doth Death speak of our beloved. 
 When it hath laid them low ; 
 "VVhen it has set its hallowing touch 
 On speechless lip and brow ? 
 
 It clothes their every gift and grace 
 With radiance from the holiest place, 
 With light as from an angel's face ; 
 
 Eecalling with resistless force 
 And tracino; to their hidden source, 
 Deeds scarcely noticed in their course. 
 
 This little loving fond device, 
 
 That daily act of sacrifice. 
 
 Of which too late we learn the pritje ! 
 
 Opening our weeping eyes to trace 
 Simple, unnoticed kindnesses. 
 Forgotten notes of tenderness, 
 
 ■ I ll 
 
 tp » Tft 
 

 THE VERDIGT OF DEATH. 151 
 
 ^ 
 
 Wliicli evermore to us must be 
 Sacred as hymns in infancy, 
 Learned listening at a mother's knee. 
 
 Thus doth Death speak of our beloved 
 
 When it has laid them low : 
 Then let Love antedate the work of Death, 
 
 And do this now ! 
 
 How doth Death speak of our beloved, 
 
 When it has laid them low ; 
 When it has set its hallowing touch 
 
 On speechless lip and brow ? 
 
 It sweeps their faults with heavy hand, 
 As sweeps the sea the trampled sand, 
 TiU scarce the faintest print is scanned. 
 
 It shows how such a vexing deed 
 Was but generous nature's weed. 
 Or some choice virtue run to seed ; 
 
 How that small fretting fretfulness 
 Was but love's over-anxiousness. 
 Which had not been, had love been less. 
 
 This failing, at which we repined. 
 But the dim shade of day declined, 
 Which should have made us doubly kincL 
 
 ^\L^ 
 
152 777^ VERDICT OF DEATH. 
 
 ■nn. 
 
 Thus doth Death speak of our beloved, 
 
 When it has laid them low ; 
 Tlien let Love antedate the work of Death, 
 
 And do this now ! 
 
 How doth Death speak of our beloved. 
 
 When it has laid them low ; 
 When it has set its hallowing touch 
 
 On speechless lip and brow ? 
 
 It takes each failing on our part, 
 And brands it in upon the heart, 
 With caustic power and cruel art. 
 
 The small neglect that may have pained, 
 A giant stature will have gained 
 When it can never be explained : 
 
 The little service whicli had proved 
 How tenderly we watched and loved, 
 And those mute lips to glad smiles moved 
 
 The little gift from out our store, 
 
 Which mio-ht have cheered some cheerless 
 
 hour. 
 When they with earth's poor needs were poor 
 But never Avill be needed more 1 
 
 ,^.i^>..»jg-.y.*n |-: 
 
 r 
 
tt nr I II 
 
 L 
 
 I... 1 .1 .i^a 
 
 A CHRISTMAS HYMN. 153 
 
 It shows our faults liko fires at niglit ; 
 It sweeps their failings out of siglit, 
 It clothes their good in heavenly light. 
 
 O Christ our life ! fore-date the work of DeatJK, 
 
 And do this now ! 
 Thou who art love, thus hallow our beloved ' 
 
 Not Death, but Thou ! 
 
 A CHRIST3IAS RYMN. 
 
 r 
 
 "N human form enthroned, 
 The sin of man atoned, 
 Immanuel sits in highest seat of heaven , 
 Our nature there He wears. 
 And that blest union bears. 
 In David's city on the low earth given. 
 
 He draws us by a love, 
 
 Not such as seraphs move 
 In happy life through all the realms of space 
 
 More subtle is the chord. 
 
 The speaking of a word 
 In iancruajre learned among our fleshlv raco. 
 
 " My blood, once flowing frce 
 Upon the darkened tree. 
 
■j-r 
 
 154 TEE WAYy TEE TBUTIT, AND THE LIFE. 
 
 Gives life to you in heaven's eternal room ; 
 
 The Brother and the Friend, 
 
 Through ages without end, 
 Shall e'en outlast the Saviour from the doom.' 
 
 ^ 
 
 THE WAY, THE TRUTH, AND THE LIFE. 
 
 THOU art the Way ! 
 All ways are thorny mazes without Thee ; 
 Where hearts are pierced, and thoughts all aim- 
 less stray, 
 In Thee the heart stands firm, the life moves 
 free : 
 Thou art our Way ! 
 
 Thou art the Truth ! 
 Questions the ages break against in vain 
 
 Confront the spirit in its untried youth ; 
 It starves while learning poison from the grain : 
 
 Thou art the Truth ! 
 
 Thou art the Truth ! 
 Truth for the mind, grand, glorious, infinite, 
 
 A heaven still boundless o'er its highest growth; 
 Bread for the heart its daily need to meet. 
 Thou art the Truth ! 
 
 jr"T" 
 
,tr 
 
 THE WAT, THE TRUTH, AND THE LIFE. 155 
 
 Thou art the Light ! 
 Earth beyond earth no faintest ray can give ; 
 Heaven's shadeless noontide blinds our mortal 
 sight ; 
 In Thee we look on God, and love and live: 
 Thou art our Light ! 
 
 Thou art the Rock I 
 Doubts none can solve heave wild on every side, 
 Wave meeting wave of thought in ceaseless 
 shock ; 
 On Thee the soul rests calm amidst the tide : 
 Thou art the Kock ! 
 
 Thou art the Life I 
 All ways without Thee paths that end in death ; 
 
 All life without Thee with death's harvest rife ; 
 All truths dry bones, disjoined and void of breath : 
 Thou art our Life ! 
 
 For Thou art Love ! 
 Our Way and End ! the way is rest with Thee I 
 
 living Truth ! the truth is life in Thee 1 
 Life essential ! life is bliss with Theo I 
 
 For Thou art Love 1 
 
 ^ rp- 
 
156 
 
 THE TIME FOB PRAYER. 
 
 THE TIME FOR PRAYER. 
 
 WHEN is the time for prayer ? 
 With the first beams that light the 
 morning sky, 
 Ere for the toils of day thou dost prepare, 
 
 Lift up thy thoughts on high ; 
 Commend thy loved ones to Ilis watchful care : 
 Morn is the time for prayer. 
 
 And in the noontide hour. 
 
 If worn by toil, or by sad cares oppressed, 
 Then unto God thy spirit's sorrow pour, 
 
 And He v/ill give thee rest ; 
 Thy voice shall reach Him through the fields of 
 air : 
 
 Noon is the time for prayer. 
 
 \Ylien the bright sun hath set, 
 
 While eve's bright colors deck the skies ; 
 AVlien Avith the loved at home again thou'st met, 
 
 Then let thy prayers arise ; 
 t or those who in thy joys and sorrows share, 
 
 Zii-e is the time for prayer. 
 
 And when the stars come forth — 
 
 When to the trusting heart sweet hopes are 
 sriven, 
 
4r- 
 
 LIGHT IN DARKNESS. 157 
 
 h 
 
 And tbe deep stillness of the hour gives birth 
 
 To pure bright dreams of heaven ; 
 Kneel to thy God — ask strength, life's ills to bear 
 
 Night is the time for prayer. 
 
 When is the time for prayer ? 
 
 In everu liour, while life is spared to thee ; 
 In crowds or solitude, in joy or care, 
 
 Thy thoughts should heavenward flee. 
 At home, at morn and eve, with loved ones there. 
 
 Bend thou the knee in prayer ! 
 
 LIGHT IN DARKNESS. 
 
 BREEZES of spring, all earth to life awak- 
 ing, 
 Birds swiftly soaring through the sunny sky, 
 The butterfly its lonely prison breaking, 
 
 The seed up-springing which had seemed to die 
 
 Types such as these a word of hope have spoken, 
 Have shed a gleam cf light around the tomb ; 
 
 But weary hearts longed for a surer token, 
 A clearer' ray, to dissipate its gloom. 
 
 And this was granted ! See the Lord ascending. 
 On crimson clouds of evening calmly borne, 
 
 I 
 
 ..■■^.■^.wtj,. u iii A . i i »m w I I i mn III n M » — — MiiiBiMi I iicii III i mni i ,<tL ' j.. ' ,--«.j : 
 
-til lii- 
 
 168 coMMumoN WITH god 
 
 Witli hands out-stretched, and looks of love still 
 bendino" 
 On his bereaved ones, who no longer mourn. 
 
 " I am the resurrection ! " hear Him saying, 
 *' I am the life ; he who believes in me 
 
 Shall never die ; the souls my call obeying. 
 Soon where I am for evermore shall be." 
 
 Sing halleluiah ! light from heaven appearing, 
 The mystery of life and death is plain ; 
 
 Now to the grave we can descend unfearing, 
 In sure and certain hope to rise again ! 
 
 COMMUNION WITH GOD, 
 
 LORD, I am come along with Thee 1 
 Thy voice to hear, Thy face to see, 
 And feel Thy presence near ; 
 It Is not fancy's lovely dream, 
 Though wondrous e'en to faith it seem, 
 That Thou dost wait me here, 
 
 A moment from this outward life, 
 Its service, self-denial, strife, 
 I joyfully retreat ; 
 My soul, through intercourse with Thee* 
 
COMMUNION WITH GOD. 159 
 
 Strerigtiiened, refreshed, and calmed shall be, 
 Its scenes again to meet. 
 
 Ho"w can It be that one so mean, 
 A sinner, selfish, dark, unclean, 
 
 Thus in the Plollest stands ? 
 And In that light divinely pure 
 Which may no stain of sin endure, 
 
 Lifts up rejoicing hands ! 
 
 Jesus ! the answer Thou hast given ! 
 Thy death. Thy life, have opened heaven 
 
 And all its joys to me ; 
 Washed in Thy blood — oh ! wondrous grace ! 
 I'm holy as the Holy Place 
 
 In which I worship Thee. 
 
 How sweet, hoAV solemn thus to lie, 
 And feel Jehovah's searching eye 
 
 On me well pleased can rest I 
 Because with His Beloved Son, 
 The Father's grace has made me one-, 
 
 I must be always blest. 
 
 The secret pangs I could not tell 
 
 To dearest friend — Tliou knowest well ; 
 
 They claim Thy gracious heart : 
 Thou dost remove with tender care, 
 
 ■ ■ 
 
160 COMMUNION WITH GOD. 
 
 Or sweetly give me strength to bear 
 The sanctifying smart. 
 
 Thy presence has a wondrous power ! 
 The sharjiest thorn becomes a flower, 
 
 And breathes a sweet perfume \ 
 Whatever looked dark and sad before, 
 With happy light shines silvered o'er, 
 
 TJiere's no such thing as gloom 1 
 
 Thou know'st 1 have a cross to bear ; 
 The needful stroke Thou dost not spare, 
 
 To keep me near Thy side ; 
 But when I see the chastening rod 
 In Thy pierced hand, my Lord, my God ! 
 
 I feel so satisfied ! 
 
 Now, while I tell Thee how, within, 
 I oft indulge my bosom sin. 
 
 How faithless oft I prove 
 No cold repulse, no frown I meet, 
 But tender, soul-subduing, sweet 
 
 Js the rebuke of Love. 
 
 ■Hn np- 
 
■*^ ^ 
 
 TEE SUFFERER CREERED. IGl 
 
 THE SUFFERER CHEERED 
 
 ^' O^Y! shall I take the thorn away?" 
 KIj So spake my gracious Lord — 
 " O'er which thy sighs are heaved by day, 
 Thy nightly tears are poured ? 
 Say ! shall I give thee rest and ease, 
 
 !Make earth's fair prospects rise, 
 And b.id thy bark o'er summer seas 
 Float smoothly to the skies ? 
 
 " Shall peace and plenty's cup swell high^ 
 
 Health leap through every vein. 
 And all exempt thy moments fly 
 
 From bitter inward pain ? 
 Be naught to check the inspiring flow 
 
 Of human friendship's tide ; 
 And every want thy heart can know, 
 
 Be quickly satisfied ? 
 
 " Know, thine ease-loving heart might miss 
 
 The comfort with the care ! 
 And that full tide of earthly bliss 
 
 Leave little room for prayer ! 
 Few were thy visits to the throne, 
 
 Unhastened there by pain ; 
 Thou, o'er thy bojom-sins, alone, 
 
 Wouldst small advantage gain ! 
 
-dLr 
 
 102 THE SUFFERER CnEERED. 
 
 " Nor deem the highest, holiest joy 
 
 A stranger still to woe ; 
 Blest servants in my high employ, 
 
 Most closely hnked they go. 
 J\Iy love illumes with tcnderest rays 
 
 The path of self-denial ; 
 And burning bright the glory's blazo 
 
 That croAvns the fiery trial ! 
 
 " In conscious weakness thou shalt hang 
 
 On my almighty arm ! 
 Soon as the thorn inflicts its pang, 
 
 I'll pour my love's rich balm. 
 Thou plainest in thy deepest woe 
 
 Shalt feel me at thy side ; 
 And, for my praise, to all shalt show, 
 
 Thou art well satisfied. 
 
 " Then, wilt thou in thy Master's cup 
 
 Consent awhile to share ? 
 Know, when in love I drank it up. 
 
 No wraili was left thee there ! 
 Thy Saviour's love and power to bless, 
 
 Trust where thou canst not see I 
 And in yon howling wilderness 
 
 Step fearless forth with me I " 
 
 »^.-- ^^^ .....y.-^ -~.^.^.. UP~-Jf|f|' ■-^. ^.^ ^■^■.^,-- .. -^.^..^.^ - 
 
 J 
 
"tp 
 
 % 
 
 ALL IN CHRIST. 1G3 
 
 " Lord ! magnify Thyself in me !" 
 With falterhig lips I said ; 
 For, strong to bear as faith may be, 
 
 Weak nature quails with dread. 
 But He who through the shrinkinfi flesli 
 
 The spirit's will can read, 
 . Smiled on His work, and bade afresh 
 All grace meet all my need. 
 
 ALL IN CHRIST. 
 
 IN Thee my heart, O Jesus ! finds repose ; 
 Thou bringest rest to all that weary arc. 
 Until that Day-spring from on high arose, 
 I wandered through a night without a star ; 
 My feet had gone astray 
 Upon a lonely way : 
 Each guide I followed failed me in my need ; 
 Each staff I leaned on proved a broken reed. 
 
 Then, when in mine extremity to Thee 
 I turned. Thy pity did prevent my prayer ; 
 From that entangling maze it set me free, 
 
 And quickly loosed my heavy load of care 
 
4r -^ 
 
 164 ALL ZAT CHRIST. 
 
 Gave me tbe lofty scope 
 
 Of a heaven-centred hope, 
 And led me on with Thee, a gentle Guide, 
 Thither, where pm^e immortal joys abide. 
 
 Tlioii art the great completion of my soul. 
 The blest fulfilment of its deepest need ; 
 When self-surrendered to Thy mild control, 
 It enters into liberty indeed ; 
 Thy love, a genial law, 
 Its every aim doth draw 
 Within its holy range, and sweetly luro 
 Its longings toward the beautiful and piu'e. 
 
 Thy presence is the never-failing spring 
 
 Of Hfe and comfort in each darker hour ; 
 And, through thy grace benignly ministering, 
 Grief wields a secret, purifying power. 
 'Tis sweet, O Lord I to know 
 Thy kindredness with woe ; 
 Sweeter to walk with Thee on ways apart 
 Than with the world, where heart is shut to heart. 
 
 For Thee eternity reserves her hymn ; 
 
 For Thee earth has her prayers, and heaven Lor 
 vows ; 
 Thy saints adore Thee, and the seraphim. 
 
 Under thy glory, stoop their starry brows. 
 
 -%! _rp" 
 
" HIMSELF HA TR DOXE ITT 1 06 
 
 Oil ! may that light divine 
 On mc still clearer shine — 
 A power, an inspiration from above, 
 Lifting me higher to Thy perfect love ! 
 
 ''HIMSELF HATH BONE IT P 
 
 " 'FTI-'^ISELF hath done It" all! Oh I how 
 A L those words 
 
 Should hush to silence every murmuring thought 1 
 Himself hath done It — He who loves me best, 
 
 He Avho my soul with His own blood hath bought. 
 
 " Himself hath done It !" Can It then be aught 
 Than full of wisdom, full of tendercst love ? 
 
 Not one unneeded sorrow will He send, 
 
 To teach this wandering heart no more to rove. 
 
 " Himself hath done It !" Yes, although severe 
 May seem the stroke, and bitter be tlie cup, 
 
 'Tis His own hand that holds it, and I know 
 He'll give me grace to drink It meekly up. 
 
 " Himself hath done It I" Oh I no arm but His 
 Could e'er sustain beneath earth's dreary lot j 
 
 But while I know He's dolns: all thlnsrs well, 
 My heart His loving-kindness questions not. 
 
 ■*qn— -jf" 
 
Jj " -\^ 
 
 1G6 " HIMSELF HATH DOXE ITT 
 
 " Himself hath done it 1" He avIio's searched me 
 through, 
 
 Sees how I cleave to earth's ensnaring ties ; 
 And so He breaks each reed on which my soid 
 
 Too much for happiness and joy relies. 
 
 •' Himself hath done it !" He would have me see 
 AMiat broken cisterns human friends must prove ; 
 
 That I may turn and quench my burning thirst 
 At His own fount of ever-living love. 
 
 '' Himself hath done it !" Then I fain -would say, 
 " Thy will in all things evermore be done '," 
 
 E'en though that will remove whom best I love, 
 While Jesus lives I cannot be alone. 
 
 " Himself hath done it !" Precious, precious words, 
 " Himself," my Father, Saviom', Brother, Friend ; 
 
 "Whose faithfulness no variation knows ; 
 AMio. having loved me, loves me to the end. 
 
 And when, in His eternal presence blest, 
 I at His feet my crown immortal cast, 
 
 I'll gladly own, with all His ransomed saints, 
 " Himself hath done it " — all, fi'om first to last ! 
 
 if- 
 
■* 1% 
 
 LIVING WATERS. 167 
 
 I 
 
 LIVING WATERS. 
 
 N some wild Eastern legend the stor}' Las been 
 told, 
 Of a fair and wondrous fountain, that flowed in 
 
 times of old ; 
 Cold and crystalline its waters, brightly glancing 
 
 in the ray 
 Of the summer moon at midnight, or the sun at 
 height of day. 
 
 And a good angel, resting there, once in a favored 
 
 hour 
 Infused into the limpid depths a strange mysterious 
 
 power; 
 A hidden principle of life, to rise and gush again, 
 Where but some drops were scattered on the dry 
 
 and barren plain. 
 
 So the traveller might journey, not now in fear 
 
 and haste. 
 Far through the mountain-desert, far o'er the 
 
 sandy waste, 
 
"tP L 
 
 168 LIVING WATERS. 
 
 If but he sought this fountain fii-st, and from its 
 
 wondrous store 
 Tlic secret of unfailing springs along with lilni he 
 
 bore. 
 
 "Wild and fanciful the legend — yet may not raean- 
 in2;s hloh, 
 
 Visions of better things to come, -within its slradow 
 He? 
 
 Type of a better fountain, to mortals now un- 
 sealed, 
 
 The full and free salvation in Christ our Lord re- 
 vealed ? 
 
 Beneath the Cross those waters rise, and he who 
 
 finds them there 
 All through the wilderness of life the living stream 
 
 may bear ; 
 And blessings follow in his steps, until where'er he 
 
 goes, 
 Q'ho moral wastes begin to bud and blossom as the 
 
 rose. 
 
 Ho ! every one that thirsteth, come to this fount- 
 ain side ! 
 Drink freely of its waters, drink, and be satisfied I 
 
■*p ^ 
 
 Si t 
 
 LIVING WATERS. 169 
 
 Yet linger not, but hasten on, and bear to all 
 
 around 
 Glad tidings of the love, and peace, and mercy 
 
 tliou hast found ! 
 
 To Afric's pathless deserts, to Greenland's frozen 
 shore — 
 
 Where din of mighty cities sounds, or savage mon- 
 sters roar — 
 
 Wherever man may wander ^rith his heritage of 
 woe. 
 
 To tell of brighter things above, go, brothers, 
 gladly go ! 
 
 Then, as of old in vision seen before the prophet's 
 
 eyes. 
 Broader and deeper on its course the stream of 
 
 life shall rise ; 
 And everywhere, as on it flows, shall carry light 
 
 and love, 
 Peace and good-will to man on earth, glory to 
 
 God above I 
 
 4" 
 
170 ABIDE WITH US. 
 
 '^ 
 
 ij 
 
 ABIDE WITH US. 
 
 rp^ HE tender light is fading where 
 I AVe pause and linger still, 
 
 And, through the dim and saddened air, 
 TTe feel the evening chill. 
 
 Long hast Thou journeyed with us, Lord, 
 
 Ere we Thy face did know ; 
 Oh ! still Thy fellowship afford, 
 
 While dark the shadows grow. 
 
 For passed Is many a beauteous field, 
 
 Beside our morning road ; 
 And many a fount to us is sealed 
 
 That once so freshly flowed. 
 
 The splendor of the noontide lies 
 
 On other paths than ours ; 
 The dews that lave yon fragrant skies 
 
 Will not revive our flowers. 
 
 It Is not now as In the glow 
 
 Of life's Impassioned heat, 
 When to the heart there seemed to flow 
 
 All that of earth was sweet. 
 
4^ ^ 
 
 ABWE WITH US. iTl 
 
 Sometliing has faded — sometlilnfr died — 
 
 without us and within ; 
 "We more than ever need a guide ; 
 
 Blinded and weak with sin. 
 
 The weight Is heavy that we bear, 
 Our strength more feeble grows ; 
 
 Weary with toll and pain and care, 
 W"e long for sweet repose. 
 
 Stay with us, gracious Saviour, stay, 
 AVhile friends and hopes depart ! 
 
 Fainting, on Thee Ave wish to lay 
 The burden of our heart. 
 
 Abide with us, dear Lord ! remain 
 Our Life, our Truth, our Way ! 
 
 So shall our loss be turned to gain — 
 Night dawn to endless day. 
 
 ■te m^mmm^tmmmmmmt ^mimamammmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmJi b£m 
 
4^ ^ 
 
 172 TBS BETTER LIFE. 
 
 THE BETTER LIFE. 
 
 'All the way by which the Lord thy God led Ihce." 
 
 "TXT'HEN -sve reach a quiet dwelling 
 
 V V On the strong eternal hills, 
 And our praise to Him is swelling, 
 
 "WHio the vast creation fills: 
 "When the paths of prayer and duty 
 
 And affliction all are trod, 
 And we wake and see the beauty 
 
 Of our Saviour and our God ^ 
 
 With the light of resurrection, 
 
 AMien our changed bodies glow, 
 And we gain the full perfection 
 
 Of the bliss begun below ; 
 Wlien the life that flesh obscureth 
 
 In each radiant form shall shine, 
 And the joy that aye endureth 
 
 Flashes forth in beams divine 
 
 Wliile Ave wave the palms of glory 
 Through the long eternal years, 
 
 Shall we e'er forget the story 
 Of our mortal griefs and fears ? 
 
■ [ I ^— {" 
 
 THE BETTER LIFE. l73 
 
 Shall we e'er forget the sadness 
 
 And the clouds that hung so dim, 
 When our hearts are filled with gladness 
 
 And our tears are dried by Him ? 
 
 Shall the memory be banished 
 
 Of His kindness and His care, 
 When the wants and woes are vanished. 
 
 Which He loved to soothe and share — 
 All the way by which He brought us, 
 
 All the grievings which He bore. 
 All the patient love He taught us, 
 
 Shall we think of them no more ? 
 
 Yes ! we surely shall remember 
 
 How He quickened us from death : 
 How He fanned the dying ember 
 
 With His Spirit's glowing breath. 
 We shall read the tender meaning 
 
 Of the sorrows and alarmg 
 As we trod the desert, leaning 
 
 On His everlasting arms. 
 
 And His rest will be the dearer 
 
 When we think of weary ways, 
 And His light will seem the clearer 
 
 As we muse on cloudy days. 
 
 Tp Vy 
 
iJJ — % 
 
 1*74 PHAT FOR WHOM TUOU LOTUS T, 
 
 Oh ! 'twill be a glorious morrow 
 To a dark and stormy day ; 
 
 Wc shall recollect our sorrow 
 As the streams that pass away 
 
 FJiAY FOR WHOM THOU LOVEST, 
 
 Prat for whom thou lovest ; thou wilt never have any com- 
 fort of his friendship for whom thou dost not pray. 
 
 YES, pray for whom thou lovest ; thou mayst 
 vainly, idly seek 
 The fervid words of tenderness by feeble words to 
 
 speak ; 
 Go kneel before thy Father's throne, and meekly, 
 
 humbly there 
 Ask blessins: for the loved one in the silent hour 
 of prayer. 
 
 Yes, pray for whom thou lovest ; if uncounted 
 
 wealth were thine — 
 The treasures of the boundless deep, the riches of 
 
 the mine — 
 Thou could'st not to thy cherished friends a gift 
 
 so dear impart. 
 As the earnest benediction of a deeply loving 
 
 henrt. 
 
J 
 
 DBAWIKG WATER. 1^5 
 
 Seek not the worldling's friendship, it shall droop 
 
 and wave ere lono- 
 In the cold and heartless glitter of the pleasuro- 
 
 lovlng thro lo- , 
 Jiiit seek the friend who when thy prayer for him 
 
 shall murmured be, 
 Breathes forth in filthful sympathy a fervent 
 
 prayer for thee. 
 
 And should thy flowery path of life become a path 
 of i:)aln. 
 
 The friendship formed In bonds like these thy 
 spirit shall sustain ; 
 
 Years may not chill, nor change Invade, nor pov- 
 erty Impair, 
 
 The love that grew and flourished at the holy time 
 of prayer. 
 
 DRAWING WATER. 
 
 I HAD drank with lip unsated 
 Where the founts of pleasure burst ; 
 I had hewn out broken cisterns, 
 And they mocked my spirit's thirst. 
 
 And I said, Life is a desert, 
 Hot and measureless and dry ; 
 
 il 
 
-*- — 4f 
 
 17G DHAW/ya wateb. 
 
 And God avIII not give mc water, 
 Though I pray and fahit and die I 
 
 Sj'joke there then a friend and brother. 
 
 " Rise and roll the stone away ! 
 There are founts of life upsprlnging 
 
 In thy pathway every day." 
 
 Then I said my heart was sinful — 
 Yery sinful was my speech ; 
 
 All the wells of God's salvation 
 Are too deep for me to reach. 
 
 And he answered : " Rise and labor ! 
 
 Doubt and idleness is death ; 
 Shape thou out a goodly vessel 
 
 With the strong hands of thy faith I'' 
 
 So I wrought and shaped the vessel, 
 Then knelt lowly, humbly there ; 
 
 And I drew up living water, 
 
 "With the golden chain of prayer. 
 
 ■^n rp- 
 
■^ 
 
 A TRUE DREAM. IV? 
 
 ■ 1 
 
 Tfl_ 
 
 A TRUE DRE.Ur. 
 
 I DREAMT wc danced in careless glee, 
 With hearts and footsteps light and free, 
 That one so dearly loved and I, 
 As in the childish days gone by 
 
 For ever. 
 
 I felt her arms around me fold, 
 I heard her soft laugh as of old ; 
 Her eyes with smiles were brimming o'er, 
 Eyes wc may meet on earth no more 
 
 For ever. 
 
 Then there came mingling with my dreams 
 A sense perplexed of loss and change — 
 An echo dim of time and tears ; 
 Until I said : " How long it seems 
 
 Since thus we danced ! Is it not strange ? 
 Do you not feel the weight of years ? 
 Or dread life's evening shadows cold ? 
 Or mourn to think we must grow old ?" 
 Wondering, she paused a little while, 
 Then answered, with a radiant smile : 
 
 " No, never I " 
 
 rp" 
 
■^ 
 
 17s A TRUE BREAM. 
 
 Wondering as If to lier I told 
 
 The customs of some foreign land 
 
 Or spoke a tongue she knew of old, 
 But could no longer understand. 
 
 Till o'er her face that sunshine broke, 
 
 And with that radiant smile she spoke 
 That " Never." 
 
 But not initil the dream had fled 
 I knew the sense of what she said ; 
 Young with immortal truth and love, 
 Chikl in the Father's house above 
 For ever. 
 
 AVe echo back thy words again ; 
 They smite us with no grief or pain ; 
 We journey not towards the night, 
 But to tlie breaking; of the light 
 Together. 
 
 Our hfe is no poor cisterned store 
 The lavish years are draining low \ 
 
 But living streams that, welling o'er. 
 Fresh from the Living Fountain flow 
 For ever. 
 
 '"•'""■ -' TMnrrwninirtTn^-T' 
 
«C? LORD! THOU KNOWESTy 
 
 "(9 LORD! THOU KNOWEST:' 
 
 THOU knowcst, Lord, the -weariness and sor- 
 row 
 Of the sad heart that comes to Thee for rest • 
 Cares of to-day, and burdens for to-morrow, 
 
 Blessings implored, and sins to be confessed, 
 I come before Thee at Thy gracious word, 
 And lay them at Thy feet — Thou knowest. Lord. 
 
 Thou knowest all the past ; how long and blindly 
 On the dark mountains the lost wanderer 
 strayed ; 
 How the good Shepherd folloAved, and how kindly 
 
 He bore it home, upon His shoulders laid, 
 And healed the bleeding wounds, and soothed the 
 
 pain, 
 And brought back life, and hope, and strengtli 
 again. 
 
 niou knowest all the present : each temptation. 
 Each toilsome duty, each foreboding fear \ 
 
 All to myself assigned of tribulation, 
 
 Or to beloved ones, than self more dear ! 
 
 All pensive memories, as I journey on, 
 
 Longings for vanished smiles, and voices gone ! 
 
 "TH— 
 
Jj — uL 
 
 180 ''0 LORD! TEOV ENOWESTr 
 
 Thou knowcst all the future : gleams of gladncr^, 
 By stormy clouds too quickly overcast ; 
 
 Hours of sweet fellowship, and parting sadness 
 And the dark river to be crossed at last : 
 
 Oh ! what could confidence and hope ailbrd 
 
 To tread that jmth, but this — ilion Jcnowesf, Lord ! 
 
 Thou knowest, not alone as God, all-knowing ; 
 
 As man, our mortal weakness thou hast proved ; 
 On earth, with purest sympathies o'erflowing, 
 
 O Saviour I Thou hast Avept, and Thou hast 
 loved ! 
 And Love and Sorrow still to Thee mav come. 
 And find a hiding-place, a rest, a home. 
 
 Therefore I come. Thy gentle call obeying, ' 
 And lay my sins and sorroAvs at Thy feet, 
 
 On everlasting strength my weakness staying, 
 Clothed In Thy robe of righteousness complcto ' 
 
 llien rising and refreshed, I leave Thy throne, 
 
 And follow on to know as I am known ! 
 
 "TH- 
 
Ai lL. 
 
 % 
 
 MINISTRY. 181 
 
 MIX] STR Y. 
 
 "TuL' Sou of Man came not to be ministered uuto, but to 
 minister." 
 
 SINCE service is the highest lot, 
 And all arc in one Body bound, 
 In all the world the place is not 
 
 Wliich may not with this bliss be crowned. 
 
 The sufferer on the bed of pain 
 Need not be laid aside from this ; 
 
 But for each kindness gives again 
 " This joy cf doing kindnesses." 
 
 The poorest may enrich this feast, 
 
 Not one lives only to receive ; 
 But renders through the hands of Christ 
 
 Richer returns than man can give. 
 
 The little child, in trustful glee, 
 
 With love and gladness brimming o'er, 
 
 Many a cup of ministry 
 
 May for the vrcary veteran pour. 
 
 The lonely glory of a throne 
 May yet this lowly joy preserve ; 
 
 I ■ 
 
^ ^ 
 
 182 MINISTRY. 
 
 Love may make that a stepping-stone, 
 And raise " I reign " into " I serve." 
 
 This, by the ministries of prayer, 
 
 The loneliest life •with blessings cro'vvils, 
 
 Can consecrate each petty care, 
 Make angels' ladders out of clouds. 
 
 Nor serve we onlv when we ffird 
 
 Our hearts for special ministry ; 
 That creature best has ministered 
 
 Which is what it was meant to be. 
 
 Birds by being glad their Maker bless 
 
 By simply shining, sun and star ; 
 And we, whose laAV is love, serve less 
 
 By what we do than what we are. 
 
 Since service is the highest lot 
 
 And angels know no higher bliss, 
 Then with what good her cup is frauglit 
 
 Who was created but for this ! 
 
 ^ 
 
IT IS WELL. 183 
 
 IT IS WELL. 
 
 O O they said, who saw the wonders 
 fO Of Messiah's power and love ; 
 So they sing, who see His gloi-y 
 
 In the Father's house above ; 
 Ever reading, in each record 
 
 Of the strangely varied past, 
 " All was well which God appointed, 
 
 All has wrought for good at last." 
 
 And on earth we hear the echoes 
 
 Of that chorus in the sky ; 
 Through the day of toil or weeping, 
 
 Faith can raise a glad reply. 
 It is well, O saints departed ! 
 
 Well with you, for ever blest. 
 Well with us, who journey forward 
 
 To your glory and your rest I 
 
 Times are changing, days are flying, 
 
 Years are quickly past and gone, 
 Vhile the wildlv mingled murmur 
 
 Of life's busy hum goes on ; 
 Sounds of tumult, sounds of triumph, 
 
 INIarriage chimes and passing-bell ; 
 Yet through all one key-note sounding, 
 
 A ngels' watchword : " It is well." 
 
 ^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 j:+ 
 
^ — ^ 
 
 184 IT IS WELL. 
 
 "4I 
 
 Wc may hear it, through the rushing 
 
 Of the midnight tempest's wave ; 
 We may hear it, through the weeping 
 
 Round the newly covered grave ; 
 In the dreary house of mourning, 
 
 In the darkened room of pain. 
 If we listen meekly, rightly, 
 
 We may catch that soothing strain. 
 
 For Thine arm thou hast not shortened, 
 
 Neither turned away thine ear, 
 O Saviour ! ever ready 
 
 The afflicted's prayer to hear ! 
 Show us light, still surely resting 
 
 Over all Thy darkest ways ; 
 Give us faith, still surely trusting 
 
 Through the sad and evil days. 
 
 And thus, while years are tleeting. 
 
 Though our joys are with them gone, 
 In Thy changeless love rejoicing 
 
 We shall journey calmly on ; 
 Till at last, all sorrow over, 
 
 Each our tale of grace shall tell, 
 In the heavenly chorus joining : 
 
 " Lord, thou hast done all things well ! 
 
 r 
 
-tij~ — ' it*. 
 
 THE CROSS. 185 
 
 I. 
 
 THE CROSS. 
 
 " Now there sto^d by the Cross of Jesus His mother." 
 
 ry^HE strongest light casts deepest shade, 
 1 The dearest love makes dreariest loss, 
 
 And she His birth so blessed had made 
 Stood by Him dying on the cross. 
 
 Yet since not grief but joy shall last, 
 
 The day and not the night abide, 
 And all time's shadows, earthward cast, 
 
 Arc lights upon the " other side ;" 
 
 Through what long bliss that shall not fail, 
 
 That darkest hour shall brighten on ! 
 Better than any angel's " Hail ! " 
 
 The memory of " BeJiold thy Son ! " 
 
 Blessed in thy lowly heart to store 
 
 The homage paid at Bethlehem ; 
 But far more blessed evermore, 
 
 Thus to have shared the taunts and shame. 
 
 Thus with thy pierced heart to have stood 
 'Mid mocking crowds and OAvned Him thine, 
 
 True through a world's ingratitude, 
 And owned in death by lips Divine. 
 
ifj^ -^ 
 
 186 TBE OEOWK 
 
 n. 
 
 THE CROWN. 
 
 rr^HOU slialt be crowned, O mother blest ! 
 JL Our hearts behold thee crowned e'en now ] 
 The crown of motherhood, earth's best, 
 O'ershadowing thy maiden brow. 
 
 Thou shalt be crowned ! JNIore fragrant bays 
 
 Then ever poet's brows entwine, 
 For thine immortal hymn of praise, 
 
 First Singer of the Church, are thine. 
 
 Tliou shalt be crowned ! All earth and heaven 
 
 Thy coronation pomp shall see ; 
 The Hand by which thy crown is given 
 
 Shall be no stranger's hand to thee. 
 
 Thou shait be crowned ! but not a oueen \ 
 
 A better triumph ends thy strife : 
 Heaven's bridal raiment, white and clean, 
 
 The victor s crown of fadeless life. 
 
 Thou shalt be crowned ! but not alone — 
 
 No lonely pomp shall weigh thee down ; 
 Crowned -with the myriads, round His throne, 
 
 And casting at His feet thy crown. 
 
 ]-■+ 
 
% 
 
 PEAYEB OUT OF THE DEPTHS. 187 
 
 PRAYER OUT OF THE DEPTHS. i 
 
 ALL in weakness, all in sorrow, 
 O my God ! I come once more, 
 Lifting np the sad petition 
 
 Thou hast often heard before, 
 In the former days of darkness, 
 In the time of need of yore. 
 
 For a present help in trouble 
 
 Thou hast never ceased to be. 
 Since at first a weeping sinner 
 
 Fell before Thee trustingly ; 
 And Thy voice is ever sounding : 
 
 " O ye weary ! come to Me." 
 
 Lord, Thou knowest all the weakness 
 
 Of the creatures Thou hast made, 
 For with mortal imperfection 
 
 Thou didst once Thy glory shade ; 
 Tliou hast loved and Thou hast sorrowed, 
 
 In the veil of flesh arrayed. 
 
 Thus I fear not to approach Thee 
 
 With my sorrow and my care ; 
 Hear my mourning supplication. 
 
 Cast not out my humble prayer ! 
 
4j -ll. 
 
 188 PRAYER OUT OF THE DEPTHS. 
 
 Lay not on a greater burden 
 Than Thy feeble child can bear! 
 
 Earth has lost its best attractions, 
 All the brightest stars are gone — 
 
 'All is clouded now and cheerless, 
 Where so long a glory shone : 
 
 Where I Avalked Avitli loved companions, 
 I must Avandcr now alone. 
 
 All is dark on the horizon, 
 Clouds returning after rain ; 
 
 Faith is languid, Hope is weary, 
 And the questions rise again : 
 " Doth the promise fail for ever ? 
 
 Hast thou made all men in vain ? ' 
 
 O my God ! rebuke the tempter, 
 
 Let not unbelief prevail ! 
 Pray for me. Thy feeble servant. 
 
 That my weak faith may not fail, 
 Nor my Hope let go her anchor 
 
 AVhen the waves and storms assail I 
 
 All these passing changing shadows, 
 All these brief, bright joys below — 
 
 Let me grasp them not so closely, 
 Nor desire nor prize them so ! 
 
■^ 
 
 
 rRAYEB OUT OF THE DEPTHS. 189 
 
 Nor endure this bitter anguish 
 
 AVhen Thou bid'st me let them go ! 
 
 Redeemer ! shall one perish 
 Who has looked to Thee for aid ? 
 
 Let mc see Thee, let me hear Thee, 
 Through the gloomy midnight shade ; 
 
 Let me hear Thy voice of comfort : 
 " It is I j be not afraid ! " 
 
 For when feeling Tliou art near me, 
 
 All my loneliness is o'er, 
 And the tempter's dark suggestions 
 
 Can oppress my soid no more ; 
 
 1 shall dread the path no longer 
 
 Where Thyself hast gone before. 
 
 And the lights of earth all fading. 
 
 & 
 
 I can gaze on tearlessly, 
 When the glory that excelleth, 
 
 When the light of Ufe 1 sec. 
 Whom besides, in earth or heaven. 
 
 Should my heart desire, but Thee ? 
 
 p.— 1« 
 
% 
 
 190 SALOME. 
 
 8 A L ME. 
 
 SHE knew not what for tliem slio sought, 
 At His right hand and left to sit ! 
 How great the gh)ry, passing thought ; 
 How rough the path that led to it. 
 
 They knew not what of Him they asked ! 
 
 But He their deeper sense distilled. 
 Gently the selfish wisii unmasked, 
 
 But all the prayer of love fulfilled. 
 
 Pride sought to lift herself on high, 
 And heard but of the bitter cup ; 
 
 Love would but to her Lord be nigh, 
 And won her measure full — heaped up 
 
 With vision of His glory blessed ; 
 
 Stood on the mountain by His side ; 
 Leaned, at the Supper, on His breast ; 
 
 Stood close beneath Him when He died. 
 
 One brother shared His cup of woe — 
 The second of His martyr-band : 
 
 One, by His glory smitten low, 
 
 Rose at the touch of His ri^rht hand. 
 
 11 
 
 taSBS Bsaa 
 
■ 
 
 MEMORIES. 191 
 
 Thus, wlien by earth's cross lights perplexed, 
 We crave the thing that should not be, 
 
 God, reading right our erring text, 
 
 Gives what we would ask, could we sec. 
 
 MEMORIES 
 
 WHEN fall the evening shadows, long and 
 deep, across the hill ; 
 When all the air is fragrance, and all the breezes 
 still ; 
 
 When the summer sun seems pausing above the 
 
 mountain's brow, 
 As if he left reluctantly a scene so lovely now ; 
 
 Then I linger on the pathway, and I fondly gaze, 
 
 and long, 
 iVs if reading some old story those deep purple 
 
 clouds among ; 
 
 Then Memory approaches, holding up her magic 
 glass, 
 
 Pointing to familiar figures, which across the sur- 
 face pass. 
 
 lUlMlMILII W 
 
 I 
 
-* ^ 
 
 192 MEMORIES. 
 
 And often do I (pcstion, as I view that pliantom 
 
 train, 
 Whether most with joy or sadness I behold them 
 
 thus afijain. 
 
 They are there, those scenes of beauty, wliore 
 
 life's brightest hours have fled, 
 And I haste, with dear companions, the old patlis 
 
 again to tread ; 
 
 But, suddenly dissolving, all the loveliness is flown, 
 And I fmd a thorny wilderness, where I must 
 walk alone. 
 
 Thou art there, so loved and honored, as in each 
 
 ibrmer hour, 
 AVhen we read thine eye's deep meaning, when 
 
 we heard thy words of power ; 
 
 When our souls, as willing captives, have sought 
 
 to follow thine, 
 Tracing the eternal footsteps of JNIight and Love 
 
 Divine. 
 
 But o'er that cherished image falls a veil of clouds 
 
 and gloom, 
 And beside a bier I tremble, or I weep above a 
 
 tomb. 
 
 "TH — — rp" 
 
% 
 
 MEMORIES. 198 
 
 And ever will the question come, O Memory ! 
 
 again, 
 Wbetlier in thy magic mirror there is most of 
 
 bhss or pain ? 
 
 "Would I not wish the brightness were for ever hid 
 from view, 
 
 U but those hours of darkness could be all for- 
 gotten too ? 
 
 Then, weary and desponding, my spirit seeks to 
 
 rise 
 Away from earthly conflicts, from mortal smiles 
 
 or siffhs. 
 
 I do not think the blessed ones with Jesus have 
 
 forgot 
 The changing joys and sorrows which have marked 
 
 their earthly lot ; 
 
 15 ut now, on Memory's record their eyes can 
 
 calmly dwell ; - 
 They can see, what here they trusted— (God hath 
 
 done all things well ;) 
 
 And vain regrets and longings are as old tilings 
 passed away ; 
 
 No shadows dim the sunshine of that bright eter- 
 nal day ! 
 
^ 
 
 194 THE WIDOW OF KAIJV. 
 
 THE WIDOW OF NAIX. 
 
 rr^ HY miracles are no state splendors 
 JL Whose pomps Thy daily works excel ,' 
 The rock which breaks the stream, but renders 
 Its constant current audible. 
 
 The power which startles us in thunders 
 
 Works ever silently in light ; 
 And mightier than these special wondere, 
 
 The wonders daily in our sight. 
 
 Rents in the veils Thy works that fold, 
 They let the inner light shine through : 
 
 The rent is new, the light is old, 
 Eternal, never ever new. 
 
 And, therefore, when Thy touch arrests 
 The bearers of that tier at Nain, 
 
 Warm on unnumbered hearts it rests, 
 Though yet their dead live not again. 
 
 And Thy compassionate " Weep not ! " 
 On this our tearful earth once heard, 
 
 For every ago with comfort fraught, 
 Tells how Thy heart is ever stirred. 
 
 
iTr 
 
 
 ^ 
 
 THE WIDOW OF JVAIJT. 
 
 195 
 
 Nature repeats the tale each year, 
 
 She feels Thy touch through countless springs, 
 And, rising from her wintery bier. 
 
 Throws off her grave-clothes, lives and sings. 
 
 And when Thy touch through earth shall thrill 
 This bier whereon our race is laid, 
 
 And, for the fu'st time standing still, 
 The long procession of the dead 
 
 At Tliy " Arise ! " shall wake from clay, 
 Young, deathless, freed from every stain ; 
 
 When Thy " Weep not ! " shall wipe away 
 Tears that shall never come a^ain : 
 
 "When the strong chains of death are bursfc, 
 And lips long dumb begin to speak, 
 / What name will each then utter first ? 
 What music shall that silence break ?, 
 
 ^ 
 
1j 
 
 u 
 
 1 G 2'A Til iTA TS OF TUB HOL T LAJH). 
 
 PATHWAYS OF THE HOLY LAND. 
 
 rilllE pathways of Thy land are little ohangcl 
 _1_ Since Thon wert there ; 
 
 'Uhe biL>y ^Yorld through other •ways has rangeil. 
 And lelt these hare. 
 
 The rocky path still climbs the glowing steep 
 
 Of Olivet, 
 Though rains of two niillennluuis wear it deep, 
 
 JNIcn tread it yet. 
 
 SllU to the gardens o'er (lie brook it leacL^, 
 
 Quiet and low : 
 Before his sheep the shepherd on it trea'-Ls, 
 
 His voice thev know. 
 
 The wild fig throws broad shadows o'er it still, 
 
 As once o'er Thee ; 
 Peasants go home at evening Tip that hill 
 
 To Bethany. 
 
 And, as when gazing Thou didst Aveep o'er (hem. 
 
 From height to height 
 'I'he white roofs of discrowned Jerusalem 
 
 Burst on our .siixht. 
 
 ■^ 
 
 rp" 
 
■^ ^ 
 
 I'A rn WA YS OF THE IIOL Y LAXDS. 1 9 7 
 
 These Avays were strewed with garments once, and 
 pahii, 
 Which wc tread tlius ; 
 Here, through Tliy triuinpli, on Thou passcdst, 
 cahn, 
 On to Thy cross. 
 
 The vravcL; have waslied fresh sands upon the shore 
 
 Of* Galilee; 
 But, cliisellcd in the liill-sldes, evermore 
 
 Thy paths we sec. 
 
 Man lias not changed them in that slumbering 
 land, 
 
 Nor time eflaced ; 
 Where Thy feet trod to bless, we still may stand ; 
 
 All can be traced. 
 
 Yet we have traces of Tliy footsteps far 
 
 Truer than these ; 
 Where'er the poor, and tried, and sulTering aro, 
 
 Thy steps faith sees. 
 
 Nor with ibnd sad regrets Thy steps we traco ; 
 Thou art not dead I 
 
 ■^in r0- 
 
198 FOU THE NEW YE Alt. 
 
 Our path is onward, till we see Thy face, 
 And hear Thy tread. 
 
 And now, wherever meets Thy lowliest band 
 
 In praise and prayer. 
 There is Thy presence, there Thy Holy Land, 
 
 Thou, Thou, art there 1 
 
 FOR THE NEW YEAR. 
 
 ANOTHER year! another year 
 Has borne its record to the skies 
 Another year ! another year, 
 
 Untried, unproved, before us lies ; 
 We hail with snules its dawning ray — 
 How shall we meet its final day ? 
 
 Another year, another year ! 
 
 Its squandered ho-urs will ne'er returr 
 Oil ! many a heart must quail with fear 
 
 O'er memory's blotted page to turn. 
 No record from that leaf »vill fade, 
 Not one erasure may be made. 
 
 Jf- 
 
-hi J LX+ 
 
 FOR TUE NEW TEAR. 199 
 
 Another year, another year ! 
 
 How many a grief lias marked Its flight 
 Some whom we love, no more are here — 
 
 Translated to the realms of light. 
 Ah ! none can bless the coming year 
 Like those no more to greet us here. 
 
 Another year, another year ! 
 
 Oh I many a blessing, too, was given, 
 (^ur lives to deck, our hearts to cheer, 
 
 And antedate the joys of heaven ; 
 But they, too, slumber in the past, 
 Where joys and griefs must sink at last. 
 
 Another year, another year ! 
 
 Gaze we no longer on the past, 
 Nor let us shrink, with faithless fear, 
 
 From the dark shade the future casts. 
 The past, the future — what are they 
 To those whose lives may end to-day ? 
 
 Another year, another year ! 
 
 Perchance the last of life below. 
 Who, ere its close. Death's call may hear 
 
 None but the Lord of life can know. 
 Oh ! to be found, whene'er that day 
 May come, prepared to pass away. 
 
 43,, 
 
4jJ —^ 
 
 200 TITE PERPETUITY OF JOY IX HEAVEN. 
 
 Anotlier year, another year I 
 
 Help us earth's thorny path to treat! ; 
 So may each moment brhig us near 
 
 To Thee, ere yet our lives are fled. 
 Saviour ! we yield ourselves to Theo, 
 For time and for eternity. 
 
 TUE PERPETUITY OF JO Y IK HE A YEN 
 
 HERE brief is the sighing, 
 And brief is the crying, 
 For brief is the life ! 
 The life there is endless, 
 The joy there is endless. 
 And ended the strife. 
 
 What joys are in heaven ? 
 To whom are they given ? 
 
 Ah ! what ? and to whom ? 
 The stars to the earth-born, 
 " Best robes " to the sin-worn, 
 
 Tlie crown for the doom I 
 
 O country the fairest ! 
 Our country the dearest. 
 
4^ ~4j- 
 
 THE PERPETUITY OF JOT IN HE A VEX. 201 
 
 Tfl 
 
 We press tOAvard thee ! 
 O Slon the golden I 
 Our eyes now are holden, 
 
 Thy light till we see : 
 
 Thy crystalline ocean, 
 Un vexed by commotion, 
 
 Thy fountain of life ; 
 Thy deep peace unspoken, 
 Pure, sinless, unbroken — 
 
 Thy peace beyond strife : 
 
 TTiy meek saints all glorious, 
 Thy martyrs victorious, 
 
 Who suffer no more ; 
 Thy halls full of singing, 
 Thy hymns ever ringing 
 
 Along Thy safe shore. 
 
 Like the lily for whiteness, 
 Like the jewel for brightness, 
 
 Thy vestments, O Bride I 
 The Lamb ever with thee, 
 The Bridegroom is with thoo— 
 
 With thee to abide ! 
 
 We know not, we know not. 
 All human words show not, 
 
4j ll 
 
 202 THROUGH THE FLOOD ON FOOT. 
 
 "^XX 
 
 The joys we may reach ; 
 
 The mansions preparing, 
 
 The joys for our sharing, 
 
 The welcome for each. 
 
 O Sion the golden I 
 My eyes still are holden, 
 
 Thy light till I see ; 
 And deep in thy glory, 
 Unveiled then before me, 
 
 My Iving, look on thee 
 
 THROUGH THE FLOOD ON FOOT. 
 
 THE sun had sunk in the West 
 For a little while, 
 And the clouds which gathered to see him die 
 Had caught his dying smile. 
 
 We sat In the door of our Tent, 
 
 In the cool of the day. 
 Toward the quiet meadow 
 
 Where misty shadows lay. 
 
 The great and terrible Land 
 Of wilderness and drought. 
 
As ii- 
 
 "fri 
 
 Timouan the flood on foot. 20 
 
 Lay in the shadows behind us, 
 For the Lord had brought us out. 
 
 The great and terrible River, 
 Though sliroudcd still from view, 
 
 Lay in the shadows before us, 
 But the Lord would bear us through. 
 
 In the stillness and the starlight, 
 
 In sight of the Blessed Land, 
 Wc thought of the bygone Desert-life, 
 
 And the burning, blinding sand. 
 
 Many a dreary sunset. 
 
 Many a dreary dawn, 
 Wc had watched upon those desert hills 
 
 As we pressed slowly on. 
 
 Yet sweet had been the silent dews 
 Which from God's presence fell, 
 
 And the still hours of restinji 
 By Palm-tree and by Well, 
 
 Till we pitched our Tent at last, 
 
 The Desert done, 
 Where we saw the hills of the Holy Land 
 
 Gleam in our sinking sun . 
 
 luaui J . .ivafnnBKa' 
 
1^ 
 
 204 
 
 \i 
 
 204 TEBOUQH THE FLOOD ON" FOOT. 
 
 ic|a L 
 
 And we sat in tlie door of our Tent, 
 
 In the cool of the day, 
 Toward the quiet meadow 
 
 "Where misty shadows lay : 
 
 "We were talking about the King, 
 
 And our elder Brother, 
 As we were used often to speak 
 
 One to another^ 
 
 The Lord standing quietly by. 
 
 In the shadows dim, 
 Smiling perhaps, in the dark, to hear 
 
 Our sweet, SAveet talk of Him. 
 
 « I think in a little while," 
 
 I said at length, 
 " We shall see Ilis face in the city 
 
 Of everlasting strength ; 
 
 ^' And sit down under the shadow 
 Of His smile, 
 "With great delight and thanksgiving, 
 To rest awhile." 
 
 " But the River — the awful River I 
 In the dying light," 
 
tt^ 
 
 THROUGH THE FLOOD ON FOOT. 205 
 
 
 And even as he spoke, the murmur 
 Of a River rose on the night I 
 
 And One came up through the meadow, 
 
 Where the mists lay dim, 
 Till He stood by my friend in the star-light, 
 
 And spake to him : 
 
 " I have come to call thee Home," 
 
 Said our veiled Guest ; 
 " The terrible journey of life is done, 
 
 I will take thee into Rest. 
 
 " Arise ! thou shalt come to the Palace, 
 To rest thee for ever ;" 
 And He pointed across the dark meadow, 
 And down to the River. 
 
 And my friend rose up in the shadows, 
 And turned to me — 
 " Be of good cheer," I said faintly, 
 " For He calleth thee." 
 
 For I knew by His loving voice, 
 
 His kingly word. 
 The veiled Guest in the star-light dim 
 
 Was Christ, the Lord 1 
 
 t^am 
 
 1.1 II 1 MM 
 

 h 
 
 206 THROTIGn THE FLOOD ON FOOT. 
 
 So "we three went slowly down 
 
 To the Kiver-side, 
 Till we stood in the heavy shadows 
 
 By the black, wild tide. 
 
 I could hear that the Lord was speaking 
 
 Deep words of grace, 
 I could see their blessed reflection 
 
 On my friend's pale face. 
 
 The strong and desolate tide 
 
 "NYas hurrying wildly past. 
 As he turned to take my hand once more, 
 
 And say Farewell, at last. 
 
 •'Farewell — I cannot fear. 
 
 Oh ! seest tliou His grace ?" 
 
 And even as he spoke, he turned 
 
 Again to the Master's Face. 
 
 So they two went closer down 
 
 To the River-side, 
 And stood in the heavy shadows 
 
 By the black, wild tide. 
 
 But when the feet of the Lord 
 Were come to the waters dim, 
 
 They rose to stand, on either hand_. 
 And left a path for Him 5 
 
 9t s f& nv** ^ i ivjit t yj^ m 
 
THBOlTGn THE FLOOD OJfT FOOT. 207 
 
 So they two passed over swiftly 
 
 Toward the Goal, 
 But the wistful, longing gaze 
 
 Of the i^assing soul 
 
 Grew only more rapt and joyful 
 As he clasped the Master's hand , 
 
 I think, or ever he was aware 
 They were come to the Holy Land. 
 
 Now I sit alone In the door of my Tent 
 
 In the cool of the day, 
 Toward the quiet meadow 
 
 \\Tierc misty shadows play. 
 
 The great and terrible Land 
 
 Of wilderness and drouo-ht. 
 Lies in the shadows behind me. 
 
 For the Lord hath brought me out ; 
 
 Tlie great and terrible River 
 
 I stood that night to view. 
 Lies in the shadows before me. 
 
 But the Lord will beai- me througli. 
 
 + 
 
4-M 
 
 -rminmip; 
 
 208 TEE LONG OOOD-mOET, 
 
 tl 
 
 THE LONG GOOD-NianT. 
 
 IJOUIINEY forth rejoicing, 
 From this dai'k vale of tears, 
 To heavenly joy and freedom, 
 
 From earthly bonds and fears ; 
 Where Christ our Lord shall gather 
 
 All His redeemed again, 
 Ilis kingdom to inherit. 
 
 Good-night, till then ! 
 
 Go to thy quiet resting, 
 
 Poor tenement of clay ! 
 From all thy pain and weakness 
 
 I gladly haste away ; 
 But still in faith confiding 
 
 To find thee yet again, 
 All glorious and immortal. 
 
 Good-night, till then ! 
 
 Why thus so sadly weeping, 
 Beloved ones of my heart ? 
 
 'Fhe Lord is good and gracious, 
 Though now He bids us parfc. 
 
 i 
 
-iir 
 
 TUB LONG GOODNIGHT. 20D 
 
 Oft have we met in gladness, 
 
 And -vve shall meet again, 
 All sorrow left behind us. 
 
 Good-night, tiU then I 
 
 I go to see Ilis glory, 
 
 Whom we have loved below : 
 I go, the blessed angels, 
 
 The holy samts to know. 
 Our lovely ones departed, 
 
 I go to find again. 
 And wait for you to join us. 
 
 Good-night, till then ! 
 
 1 hear the Saviour callins: — 
 The joyful hour has come : 
 
 The angel-guards are ready 
 To guide me to our home, 
 
 Where Christ our Lord shall gather 
 All His redeemed again, 
 
 His kingdom to inherit. 
 
 Good-night, till then 
 
 
 ifomi BT sff 
 
4f 
 
 210 FOOTSTEPS ON' TUB OTHER SIDE. 
 
 FOOTSTEPS ON- THE OTHER STDE, 
 
 Oi ITTING in my humble doorway, 
 Kjy Gazing out into the night, 
 Listening to the stormy tumult 
 
 With a kind of sad delight — 
 AYait I for the loved who comes not, 
 
 One whose step I long to hear ; 
 One who, though he lingers from me, 
 
 Still is dearest of the dear. 
 Soft ! he comes — now heart, be quick — 
 
 Leaping in triumphant pride ! 
 Oh ! it is a stranger footstep, 
 
 Gone by on the other side. 
 
 All the night seems filled with weeping 
 
 AVInds are wailing mournfully ; 
 And the rain-tears together 
 
 Journey to the restless sea. 
 I can fancy, sea, your murmur, 
 
 As they with your waters flow. 
 Like the griefs of single beings. 
 
 Making up a nation's woe ! 
 
 Branches, bid your guests be silent ; 
 
 Hush a moment, fretful rain ; 
 Breeze, stop sighing — let me listen, 
 
 God grant not ajrain in vain 1 
 
 >.^..>^ ■'•Ma 
 
aONlS EOME. 
 
 211 
 
 In my check the blood Is rosy, 
 Like the blushes of a bride. 
 
 Joy ! Alas ! a stranger footstep 
 Goes on by the other side. 
 
 All ! how many wait for ever 
 
 For the steps that do not come ! 
 Wait until the pitying angels 
 
 Bear them to a peaceful home ! 
 Many in the still of midnight 
 
 In the streets have lain and died, 
 While the sound of human footsteps 
 
 Went by on the other side. 
 
 GONE HOME. 
 
 &ONE home! Gone home! She lingers 
 here no longer 
 A restless pilgrim, walking painfully, 
 With homesick longing, daily grooving stronger, 
 And yearning visions of Ihe joys to be. 
 
 Gone home! Gone home I Ilcr earnest, active 
 spirit. 
 
 Her very playfulness, her heart of love ! 
 The heavenly mansion now she doth inherit, 
 
 "Wliich Christ made ready ere she went above. 
 
«>LJLj 
 
 tL. 
 
 212 FUNERAL HYMN. 
 
 Grone home J Gone home ! The door through 
 which she vanished 
 
 Closed with a jar, and left us here alone. 
 We stand without, in tears, forlorn and banished, 
 
 Longing to follow where one loved has gone. 
 
 Gone home Gone home ! Oh ! shall we cvci 
 reach her. 
 See her again, and know her for our own ? 
 % Will she conduct us to the heavenly Teacher, 
 
 And bow beside us, low before His throne ? 
 
 Gone home! Gone home! O human-hearted 
 Saviour ! 
 
 Give us a balm to soothe our heavy woe \ 
 And if Thou wilt, in tender, pitying favor, 
 
 Hasten the time when we may rise and go I 
 
 FUNERAL HYMN. 
 
 GOME forth ! come on, with solemn song : 
 The road is short, the rest is long. 
 The Lord brought here, H? calls away 
 
 Make no delay, 
 This home was for a passing day. 
 
Ba a ■■ 
 ^ J 
 
 FUNERAL HYMN. 
 
 Here ill an inn a stranger dwelt, 
 Here joy and grief by turns he felt ; 
 Poor dwelling, now we elosc thy door I 
 
 The task is o'er, 
 The sojourner returns no morc- 
 
 Now of a lasting home possessed, 
 lie goes to seek a deeper rest. 
 Good-night ! the day was sultry hero 
 
 In toil and fear ; 
 Good-night ! the nignt is cool and clear. 
 
 Chime on, ye bells ! again begin, 
 And ring the Sabbath mornino- in. 
 The laborer's week-day work is done, 
 
 The rest begun, 
 Which Christ hath for His peoi)le won. 
 
 Xow open to us gates of peace ! 
 Here let the pilgrim's journey cease ; 
 "Ye quiet slumberers, make room 
 
 In }'our still home 
 For the new stranger who has come I 
 
 213 
 
 How many graves around us lie ! 
 How many homes arc in the sky! 
 
 -^ ' « fl<M 
 
4^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 214 
 
 WE ABE THE LORD'S. 
 
 Tos, for cacli saint doth Christ prepare 
 
 A pkce with care. 
 Thy home is waiting, brother, there. 
 
 Jesus, Tlioii reignest, Lord, alone ; 
 Thou wilt return and claim Thmo OAvn. 
 Come quickly. Lord ! return again ! 
 
 Amen ! Amen I 
 Xhine seal '.is ever, now and. then I 
 
 WB ARE THE LORD'S. 
 
 WE are the Lord's. His, earthly life and 
 spirit I 
 We are the Lord's, who once for all men died 1 
 "We are the Lord'??, and shall all things inherit ! 
 We are the Lord's, who wins us all beside ! 
 
 We are the Lord's ! So in most holy living, 
 Glad let ns, body, soul, be His alone ; 
 
 And heart and mouth, and act join, witness giving 
 Tliat it is surely true : we are His own ! 
 
 Wc are the Lord's ! So in the dark vale gleaming, 
 One star dispels our fear, and keeping ward, 
 
"*""! 
 
 1+ . 
 
 EUTEAKAST 215 
 
 Dotli light our way with sweet unchangeful beam- 
 ing: 
 It is the precious Word. "\\''e're thine, O Lord ! 
 
 \Vc arc the Lord's ! So will He on the morrow 
 Watch our last pang, when other help rewards 
 
 No pain, and Death brings not a touch of son-ow. 
 Thb Word's for ever true : we are the Lord's. 
 
 EUTHANASY. 
 
 WE need no change of sphere 
 To vicAV the heavenly sights, or hear 
 The sono;s which anjiels sins. The hand 
 
 Which gently pressed the sightless orbs ere 
 
 while. 
 Giving them hght, a world of beauty, and the 
 friendly smile. 
 Can cause our eyes to see the better land. 
 
 AVe need no winjjs 
 
 To soar aloft to realms of hisrher thlncrs 
 But only feet which walk the paths of peace, 
 
 Guided by Him whose voice 
 
 Greets every ear, makes every heart rejoice, 
 Saying, Arise, and Avalk where sorrows ceaso.. 
 
it 
 
 216 EUTRANAST. 
 
 Visiting spirits arc near ; 
 
 They arc not wholly silent, but we can not hear 
 Nor understand their speech. 
 
 Our Saviour caught His Father's word, 
 
 And men of old, dreaming and walking, heard 
 The breathings of a world we can not reach. 
 
 They mounted to the skies. 
 
 And read deep mysteries. 
 ^^hilc yet on earth, they placed a ladder there 
 
 Like Jacob's, that each round should lead, 
 
 By prayer outspoken, in a word or deed, 
 The soul to heights of clearer, purer air. 
 
 They saw no messenger of gloom 
 
 In him whom we call Death, nor met their doom 
 As prisoner his sentence ; but naturally, as bud 
 unfolds to flower. 
 
 As child to man, so man to angel — 
 
 They recognizing death the glad evangel, 
 Leading to higher scenes of life and power. 
 
-I±r 
 
 TEE ELEVENTH EOUJi. 
 
 I 
 
 THE ELEVENTH HOUR. 
 
 lAINT and -woni and aged 
 
 One stands knocking at a gate 
 Though no b'ght shines in the casement, 
 
 Knocking though so late. 
 It has struck eleven 
 In the courts of heaven, 
 
 Yet lie still doth knock and wait. 
 
 ^Vlllle no answer comcth 
 
 From the heavenly hill. 
 Blessed angels wonder 
 
 At his earnest will. 
 Hope and fear but quicken 
 NVliile the shadows thicken : 
 
 He is knocking, knocking stili. 
 
 Grim the gate unopened 
 
 Stands with bar and lock : 
 Yet within the unseen Porter 
 
 Hearkens to the knock. 
 Doing and undohig, 
 Faint and yet pursuing, 
 
 This man's feet are on the Rock. 
 
 _np- 
 
•^Mi ^^— ^'^*^"""^^'^™— ****'*'*^^"™'™™"nr^rarTiT"r-i ni iBi i i i - i ' i n i i ""r - 111111111-— nr i 'ninii wii iMi| wAai 
 
 2 1 8 THE ELEVENTH EO UE, 
 
 With a cry unceasing, 
 Knocketh, prayeth lie : 
 " Lord, have mercy on rce 
 When I cry to Thee." 
 
 With a knock unceasing, 
 
 -And a cry increasing: 
 
 " O my Lord ! remember me," 
 
 Still the Porter stand eth, 
 
 Love-constrained He standeth near) 
 While the cry increaseth 
 
 Of that love and fear : 
 " Jesus, look upon me — 
 Christ, hast Thou foregone me ? — 
 
 If I must, I perish here." 
 
 Faint the knocking ceases, 
 
 Faint the cry and call : 
 Is he lost indeed for ever. 
 
 Shut without the wall ? 
 Mighty Arms surround him. 
 Arms that sought and found him, 
 
 Held, withheld, and bore through all. 
 
 O celestial mansion ! 
 Open wide the door : 
 
 il 
 
M—iurWffi^iMfci—Ti rtTaftf . r*^"ti'-T «»* ^i i^^-a e y J M 7imjj jT 
 
 ''BBIJ^aiKG OUR SHEAVES WITH USy 219 
 
 1 
 
 Crown and robes of whiteness, 
 
 Stone inscribed before, 
 Flocking angels bear them ; 
 Stretch thy hand and wear iheiu ; 
 
 Sit thou down for evermore. 
 
 ''.BRINGiya OUR SHEAVES WITH USJ' 
 
 THE time for toil is past, and night has come, 
 The last and saddest of the harvest eves ; 
 Worn out with labor long and wearisome, 
 Drooping and faint, the reapers hasten home, 
 Each laden with his sheaves. 
 
 Last of the laborers, Tliy feet I gain. 
 
 Lord of the harvest ! and my spirit grieves 
 That I am burdened, not so much with grain 
 As with a heaviness of heart and brain. 
 JMaster, behold ray sheaves ! 
 
 "I I K 
 
 Few, light, and worthless — yet their trifling weight 
 
 Through all ray frame a weary aching leaves ; 
 For long I struggled with my hapless fate, 
 Ajid staid and tolled till it was dark and late — 
 Yet these are all my sheaves ! 
 
•— IwJUf 
 
 220 ''BRmGING OUR SBHAYES WITH US.^ 
 
 Full well I knoAv I have more tares than wheat — 
 Brambles and flowers, dry stalks, and witheied 
 leaves ; 
 
 Wherefore I blush and weep, as at Thy feet 
 
 I kneel down reverently, and repeat, 
 " Master, behold my sheaves 1" 
 
 [ know these bloGsoms, clustenng heavily 
 
 ^Vitli evenhig dew upon their folded IcavcB, 
 Can claim no value nor utility — 
 Therefore shall fragrancy and beauty bo 
 The glory of my sheaves. 
 
 So do I gather strength and hope anew ; 
 
 For well I know thy patient love perceives 
 Not what I did, but what I strove to do — 
 And though the full, ripe ears be sadly few. 
 
 Thou wilt accept my sheaves. 
 
+1^-^ 
 
 INDEX TO SUBJECTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Ail ia "Known ^o Thee, 20 
 
 A Little AVhile, 45 
 
 Alone, yet not Alone, 51 
 
 Anchor within the Veil, the, 109 
 
 All is Light, 123 
 
 Asleep on Guard, 132 
 
 All ia Christ, 163 
 
 Abide with Us, 170 
 
 Border Lands, the, IS 
 
 Bridegroom's Dove, the, S5 
 
 Bridges, , 126 
 
 Burial of Moses, the, 138 
 
 Better Life, the, 172 
 
 [Jringing our Sheaves with Us, 219 
 
 Changed Cross, the, 5 
 
 Call, the, S2 
 
 Ci'oss and Crown, the, S6 
 
 Coming, 116 
 
 Christian and His Echo, the, 144 
 
 Comfort by theWay,... 147 
 
 Christmas Ilj-mn, a, lo'i 
 
 Communion with God, 15S 
 
 Cross, the, ISo 
 
 Crown, the, , 1S6 
 
 Delectable Mountains, the,, 107 
 
 Distractions in Prayer, 113 
 
 Drawing Water, 175 
 
 Evening Prayer, , C2 
 
 Even Me, 87 
 
 Eleveuth Hour, the, 217 
 
 »««3 
 
222 JNDSX TO SUBJECTS. • 
 
 ^ 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Eulhanasy, , 215 
 
 Faith's Repose, 1C6 
 
 Father, take my Hand, 12S 
 
 For the New Year, 199 
 
 Footsteps on the Other Side, , 210 
 
 Funeral Hymn, 212 
 
 Gone Home, 211 
 
 God our Strength, 15 
 
 God, my Exceeding Joy, C 9 
 
 God's Support and Guidance,.... 41 
 
 God's Anvil, 85 
 
 Grief was sent for thy Good, 90 
 
 God's Ways, Ill 
 
 Gracious Answer, the, 139 
 
 Holy Tears, , 18 
 
 Hinder me Not, 47 
 
 Heaven, , 58 
 
 Hour of Prayer, the, 134 
 
 Elymn of Trust, 187 
 
 Himself hath Done It, 165 
 
 I Am, 43 
 
 I Cling to Thee, 50 
 
 In Heaven, 72 
 
 Itjsl; Be not Afraid, 75 * j 
 
 It is Well, 1S3 
 
 Lost Treasures, 25 
 
 Leave Me not Now, 105 
 
 Longings, 124 
 
 !jight in Darkness, 157 
 
 living Waters, 107 
 
 Long Good-Night, the, 208 
 
 Less and More, 146 >^ 
 
 Meeting riacc, the, 9 g 
 
 My Times are in Thy Hand, 16 
 
 Mary's Choice, 32 
 
 My Lambs, 78 
 
 My Guest 114 
 
4j ^ 
 
 INDEX TO SUBJECTS. 223 
 
 ■ill 
 
 PACK 
 
 Bllaistry, ISl 
 
 Memories, ,... 191 
 
 Near Home, 88 
 
 Near Jesus, C6 
 
 Nature and Faiili, 70 
 
 No^v, 141 
 
 Need of Jesus, the, 142 
 
 Oh! for the Happy Days Gone By, 22 
 
 One by One, 81 
 
 Oh! to be Ready, 84 
 
 Oh ! my Saviour Crucified, 89 
 
 Onward, 95 
 
 Lord! Thou Knowest, 179 
 
 Pilgrim, the,. 11 
 
 Pilgrim's Wants, the, 50 
 
 Pilgrim of Earth, 69 
 
 Peace of God, the, 89 
 
 Peace, 91 
 
 Prayer for Strength, 93 
 
 Pray for whom tliou Lovcst, 174 
 
 Perpetuity of Joy in Heaven, 200 
 
 Pathways of the Holy Land, 196 
 
 Prayer out of the Depths 187 
 
 Quiet Mind, a, 121 
 
 Return thee to thy Rest, 65 
 
 Retrospect, 148 
 
 Sunday, 27 
 
 School of Suffering, 52 
 
 Supt)Iication, 61 
 
 Sc2nes on Jordan's Strand, 97 
 
 Sufferer cheered, the, 161 
 
 Salome, 190 
 
 There is Light Beyond, , 99 
 
 Thy Will Be Done, '. 135 
 
 Thy Will Be Done, 102 
 
 They shall be Mine, 103 
 
 xB- 
 
i ■ 
 
 224 INDEX TO SUBJECTS. 
 
 PAQH 
 
 Tempest-Tossed, the, 14G 
 
 Time for Prayer, the, 156 
 
 True Dream, a, 177 
 
 Through the Flood on Foot, 202 
 
 Voice from Heaven, a, 59 
 
 Verdict of Death, tlie, 153 
 
 Wandering Heart, the, 03 
 
 "Wholly Resigned, 15 
 
 Who is roy Brother? €8 
 
 What is this tlaat He Saith? 71 
 
 Widow of Nain, the, , 194 
 
 Way, tho Truth, and tho Life, tho, IDl 
 
 Wc arc tho Lord's, ,,,, 211 
 

 •l^Tl 
 
 INDEX TO FIRST LINES. 
 
 After long days of storms and showera, 27 
 
 Alas! for the wildly wandering heart, C3 
 
 Amid the shadows and the fears, 109 
 
 All in weakness, all in sorrow, 137 
 
 Another year, another year, 193 
 
 Beyond the smiling and the weeping, 45 
 
 Bej'ond the stars that shine in golden glory, 99 
 
 By Nebo's lonely mountain, 18S 
 
 Breezes of spring, all earth to life awakiag, 157 
 
 Christ leads us through no darker rooma, 15 
 
 Come forth ! come on with solemn oong, 212 
 
 Early my spirit turned, 89 
 
 Father, I know that all my life, 16 
 
 Father, Into Thy loving hands, IS 
 
 Forsake me not, my God, 41 
 
 Father of mercy ! at the close of day, 62 
 
 Father 1 before Thy footstool kneeling, 93 
 
 Four little words, no more, 101 
 
 Father, beneath Thy sheltering wing, 106 
 
 Faint, and worn, and aged, 217 
 
 Gone home 1 gone home ! She lingers here no longer, 211 
 
 Hinder me not! the path is long and weary, .... 47 
 
 How few who from their youthful day, Ill 
 
 How doth Death speak of our beloved, 150 
 
 Himself hath done it all, 105 
 
 Here brief is the sighing, ^ 200 
 
 It was a time of sadness, and my heart, 5 
 
 I want that adorning divine, 5G 
 
 I shiuo in the light of God, 59 
 
 I Tanttolirc near Jesus, ^ €C 
 
 ■■■■ "■^■'"'^— F'l'JTJH 
 
4^ ^ 
 
 226 INDEX TO FIRST UKISS. 
 
 I loved them so, 78 
 
 I sec them far away, 107 
 
 I cannot pray ; yet, Lord, Thou knowest, 118 
 
 I have a vronderful Guest, 114 
 
 It may be in the evening, 116 
 
 I have a treasure which I prize, 121 
 
 I have a bridge within my heart, 126 
 
 I need Thee, precious Jesus, 142 
 
 I journey through a desert drear and wild, 1-17 
 
 In human form enthroned, 153 
 
 In thee, my heart, Jesus 1 finds repooe, 163 
 
 In some wild Eastern legend the story has been told, 167 
 
 I had drank with lips unsated, ■. ... 175 
 
 I dreamt we danced in careless glee, 177 
 
 I journey foi-th rejoicing, 205 
 
 Jesus, engrave it on my heart, 5^2 
 
 Let us be patient, God has taken from us, 25 
 
 Lord, hear my prayer, 61 
 
 Lord, I hear of showers of blessing, 87 
 
 Life's mystery — deep, restless as the ocean, SI 
 
 Leave me not now while still the shade is creeping, 105 
 
 Lord, I am come along with Thee, 158 
 
 Man, in his weakness, needs a stronger stay, 15 
 
 My God, whose gracious pity I may claim, , 20 
 
 My Dove I The Bridegroom speaks, 85 
 
 Must I my brother keep, 6S 
 
 Must Jesus bear the cross alone 36 
 
 My God, is any hour so sweet, 134 
 
 Oh I for the happy days gone by, 22 
 
 One by one the sands are flowing, 81 
 
 One sweetly solemn thought, 83 
 
 Oh ! to be ready when death shall come, 84 
 
 holy Saviour 1 Friend unseen, 50 
 
 Oh I heaven is nearer than mortals think, 68 
 
 O Loving One ! Bounteous One ! 148 
 
 Oh t for the peace which flowcth as a river, 71 
 
 my Saviour cruciflod, 89 
 
4^- -^ 
 
 rSJ>EX TO FIRST LINES. 227 
 
 shame! we're sometimes fain to say, 1S2 
 
 Love Divine! Ui at stooped to share, 187 
 
 Pilgrim of earth, who art journeying to hcavoc, 69 
 
 Pain's furnace-heat within me quivers, 85 
 
 Return, return thee to thy only rest, (JT' 
 
 Rise! for the day is passing, 141 
 
 Otill onward through this land of foes, 11 
 
 Saviour, beneath Thy yoke, f)2 
 
 Silence Qlled the courts of heaven, 72 
 
 Some there are who seem exempted, , 96 
 
 Say! shall I take the thorn away ? 161 
 
 Since service is the highest lot, 181 
 
 So they said who saw the wonders, 1S8 
 
 She knew not what for them she sought, 190 
 
 Sitting in my humble doorway, 210 
 
 Thou bidd'st us call, 43 
 
 Tossed with rough winds and faint with fear, 75 
 
 The night was dark ; behold, the shade was deeper, 82 
 
 Traveller, faint not on the road, 95 
 
 There came a little child with sunny hair, 97 
 
 They shall be mine, 103 
 
 The way is dark, my Father, 12S 
 
 The way is dark, my child, 130 
 
 True faith, producing love to God and man, 144 
 
 Two Prayers, dear Lord, in One, 146 
 
 Thou art the Way, 154 
 
 The tender light is fading where, 170 
 
 Thcu knowest, Lord, the weariness and sorrow, 179 
 
 Tlie strongest light casts deepest shade, ISf) 
 
 Thou shalt be crowned, mother blest ! ISC 
 
 Thy miracles are no state splendors, 194 
 
 The pathways of Thy land are little changed, 190 
 
 The sun had sunk In the west, 202 
 
 The time for toil is past, 219 
 
 Wo arc the Lord's. 1 lis, earthly life and Bpirit, 214 
 
 We need DC change of sphere, 215 
 
 -nn 
 
 f 
 
^, 
 
 228 INDEX TO FIRST LUTES. 
 
 Where tba faded flower sball freshen, G 
 
 When no kind earthly friend is near, 51 
 
 We wept — 'twas Nature wept, but Faith, T6 
 
 We ask for peace, Lord 1 89 
 
 What though storm-clouds gather round me, 123 
 
 When shall I be at rest? 124 
 
 We see not, know not, all our way, 135 
 
 When is the time for prayer ? 156 
 
 When we reach a quiet dwelling, 172 
 
 When fall the evening shadows long and deep IDl 
 
 res, thou may'st weep, 13 
 
 Wes, pray for whom thou lovcct, . 174 
 
 
■4- 
 
 THE 
 
 Shadow of the Rogk^ 
 
 Other religious poems. 
 
iJJ ^ 
 
 Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1806, by 
 ANSON D. r. EANDOPLH, 
 
 In the Clerk's Office of the District Court for the Southern 
 District of New York. 
 
 r. 0. JGN<IN3, PRINTER AND STEnEOTYI-LU. 
 £0 NOnril WILLIAM F.T., N. V. 
 
 -fli : r:+ 
 
.jjj -^ 
 
 CONSIDER. 
 
 Consider 
 The lilies of the field whose bloom is brief 
 
 We are as thev ; 
 
 Like them we fade away. 
 As doth a leaf. 
 
 Consider 
 The sparrows of the air of small account ; 
 
 Our God cloth view 
 Whether they fall or mount — 
 
 He guards us too. 
 
 Consider 
 The lilies that do neither spin nor toil. 
 
 Yet are most fair ; 
 
 What profits all this care 
 And all this toil ? 
 
 Consider 
 The birds that have no barn nor harvest weeks 
 
 God gives them food ; 
 Much more our Father seeks 
 
 To do us good. 
 
 ROSSETII. 
 
 ^ 
 
 j-H- 
 
The Poems contained in tiiis Volume nave 
 Deen selected from many sources, and, so far as 
 known, the names of the authors appended.' The 
 publisher has designed it as a companion-book to 
 The Changed Cross, which has proved so accept- 
 able tc a large class of Christian readers. 
 
 ri 
 
XBKSUi'iiiiTVr'JL. 
 
 J'l 
 
 THE 
 
 SHADOW OF THE ROCK 
 
 AND OTHER POEMS. 
 
 THE SHADOW OF THE ROCK. 
 
 mHE Shadow of the Rock ! 
 X Stay, Pilgrim, stay ! 
 Night treads upon the heels of day ; 
 There is no other resting-place this way. 
 The Rock is near, 
 The well is clear — 
 Rest in the Shadow of the Rock I 
 
 The Shadow of the Rock ! 
 The desert wide 
 Lies round thee like a trackless tide, 
 In waves of sand forlornly multiplied. 
 The sun is gone, 
 Thou art alone — 
 Rest in the Shadow of the Rock I 
 
 The Shadow of the Rock ! 
 All come alone ; 
 
 (7^ 
 
 -— n.-^.~., .. „ ..^■vj.- 
 
4jJ ^ 
 
 <r* 8 TEE SHADOW OF THF BOCK. ^ 
 
 All, eyer since the sun liatli shone, 
 
 Who traveled by this road have come alone. 
 
 Be of good cheer — 
 
 A home is here — 
 Rest in th^ Shadow of the Rock I 
 
 The Shadow of the Rock ! 
 Kight veib the land ; 
 How the palms whisper as they stand i 
 How the well tinkles faintly through the sand 1 
 Cool water take 
 Thy thirst to slake — 
 Rest in the Shadow of the Rock ! 
 
 The Shadow of the Rock ! 
 Abide ! Abide ! 
 This Rock moves ever at thy side. 
 Pausing to welcome thee at eventide. 
 Ages are laid 
 Beneath its shade — 
 Rest in the Shadow of the Rock I 
 
 The Shadow of the Rock ! 
 Always at hand. 
 Unseen it cools the noon-tide land, 
 And quells the fire that flickers in the sand. 
 It comes in sight 
 Only at night — 
 Rest in the Shadow of the Rock 1 
 
 ■*li np- 
 
,t' L±+ 
 
 ■ TEE SEA DO W OF THE ROCK. g 
 
 The Shadow of the Rock ! 
 'Mid skies storm-riven 
 It gathers shadows out of heaven, 
 And holds them o'er us ail night cool and even, 
 Through the charmed air 
 Dew falls not there — 
 Rest in the Shadow of the Rock ! 
 
 The Shadow of the Rock ! 
 To angels' eyes 
 This Rock its shadow multiplies, 
 And at this hour in countless places lies. 
 One Rock, one shade, 
 O'er thousands laid — 
 Rest in the Shadow of the Rock ! 
 
 The Shadow of the Rock ! 
 To weary feet. 
 That have been diligent and fleet. 
 The sleep is deeper and the shade more sweet 
 O weary, rest ! 
 Thou art sore pressed — 
 Rest in the Shadow of the Rock ! 
 
 The Shadow of the Rock ! 
 Thy bed is made ; 
 Crowds of tired souls like thine are laid 
 This night beneath the self-same placid shade. 
 
 "T^ 
 
i I, I. 
 
 nira Mining I 
 
 I ] mGTIT SONG. 
 
 They who rest here 
 "Wake with Heaven near — 
 Rest in the Shadow of the Rock I 
 
 The Shadow of the Rock ! 
 Pilgrim ! sleep sound ; 
 In night's swift hours with silent bound, 
 The Rock will put thee over leagues of ground, 
 Gaining more way 
 By night than day — 
 Rest in the Shadow of the Rock ! 
 
 The Shadow of the Rock ! 
 One day of pain, 
 Thou scarce wilt hope the Rock to gain, 
 Yet there wilt sleep thy last sleep on the plain 
 And only wake 
 In Heaven's daybreak — 
 Rest in the Shadow of the Rock ! 
 
 FABER. 
 
 NI O HT SONG. 
 
 HEART, be still ! 
 In the darkness of thy woe. 
 Bow thee silently and low ; 
 Comes to thee whate'er God will ;— 
 Be thou still I 
 
maiiT SGNG, 
 
 11 
 
 Be tliou still ! 
 Vainly all thy words are spoken ; 
 Till the Word of God hath broken 
 Life's dark mysteries— good or ill— 
 
 Be thou still ! 
 
 Sleep thou still ! 
 'Tis thy Father's work of grace, 
 Wait thou yet before His face, 
 He'll thy sure deliverance will ; 
 
 Keep thou still ! 
 
 Lord my God ! 
 By thy grace, O may I be 
 All-submission, silently, 
 To the chastenings of thy rod ; 
 
 Lord my God ! 
 
 Shepherd, King ! 
 From thy fullness, grant to me 
 Still, yet fearless faith In Thee, 
 Till, from night the day shall spring 1 
 
 Shepherd, King ! 
 
 FROM THE GERMAN, 
 
 
4i- It 
 
 12 UPWARD. 
 
 UP W A R D! 
 
 UPAVARD, wLere tlie stars are burning, 
 Silent, silent in their turning- 
 Round the never-changing pole ; 
 Upward, where the sky is brightest, 
 Upward, where the blue is lightest, 
 Lift I now my longing soul ! 
 
 Far above that arch of gladness, 
 Far beyond those clouds of sadness, 
 
 Are the many mansions fair ! 
 Far from pain, and sin, and folly, 
 In that palace of the holy, 
 
 I v/ould find my mansion there ! 
 
 Where the glory brightly dwelleth, 
 Where the new song sweetly sv/elleth, 
 
 And the discord never comes ; 
 Where life's stream is ever laving^ 
 And the palm is ever waving — 
 
 That must be the home of homes I 
 
 Where the Lamb on high is seated, 
 By ten thousand voices greeted, 
 Lord of lords and King of kings 1 
 
 ■w* Wimmmmmmmmmmmimmmmmmmmmmmmmiammmtimmmmmmm^mmmtimamaamsauaemA mam 
 
^ ^ 
 
 BF KJVO WETII ALL. l g 
 
 Son of man, they crown, they crown Him ! 
 Son of God, they own, they own Him \ 
 With His name the palace rings ! 
 
 Blessing, honor, without measure, 
 Heavenly riches, earthly treasure, 
 
 Lay we at His blessed feet ! 
 Poor the praise that now we render ; 
 Loud shall be our voices yonder, 
 
 When before His Throne we meet I 
 
 BONAR, 
 
 HE KNOWETH ALL. 
 
 THE twilight falls, the night is near, 
 I fold my work away. 
 And kneel to One who bends to hear 
 The story of the day. 
 
 The old, old story ; yet I kneel 
 
 To tell it at Thy call ; 
 And cares grow lighter as I feel 
 
 That Jesus knows them all. 
 
 Yes, all I The morning and the night, 
 
 The joy, the grief, the loss, 
 
 The roughened path, the sunbeam bright, 
 
 The hourly thorn and cross. 
 
 o I 
 
X4 nOMJ^JWARDS. 
 
 Thou knowest all — I lean my head, 
 
 My weary eyelids close ; 
 Content and glad awhile to tread 
 
 This path, since Jesus knows ! 
 
 And He has loved me ! All my heart 
 With answering love is stin-ed, 
 
 And every anguished paia and smart 
 Finds healing in the Word. 
 
 So here I lay me down to rest, 
 
 As nightly shadows tall, 
 And lean, confiding, on His breast, 
 
 Who knows and pities all ! 
 
 HOMEWARDS! 
 
 DROPPING down the troubled river» 
 To the tranquil, tranquil shore ; 
 Dropping down the misty river, 
 Time's willow-shaded river. 
 
 To the spring-embosomed shore ; 
 Where the sweet light shineth ever, 
 And the sun goes down no more. 
 O wondrous, wondrous shore I 
 
 Dropping down the winding river, 
 To the wide and welcome sea ; 
 
4j ■ r-T%- 
 
 HOMEWARDS, 15 
 
 "T^ 
 
 Dropping down the naiTow river, 
 Man's weary, wayward river, 
 
 To the blue and ample sea ; 
 Where no tempest wrecketh ever, 
 
 Where the sky is fair and free ; 
 
 O joyous, joyous sea ! 
 
 Dropping down the noisy river, 
 
 To our j)eaceful, peaceful home ; 
 DrojDping down the tui'bid river, 
 Earth's bustling, crowded river, 
 
 To our gentle, gentle home ; 
 Where the rough roar riseth never. 
 
 And the vcxings cannot come ; 
 
 O loved and longed for home ! 
 
 Dropx)ing down the eddying river. 
 
 With a Helmsman true and tried ; 
 Dropping down the perilous river — 
 Mortality's dark river, 
 
 With a sm-e and Heavenly Guide ; 
 Even Him who, to deliver 
 
 My soul from death, hath died ; 
 
 O Helmsman, true and tried ! 
 
 Dropping down the rapid river. 
 
 To the dear and deathless land ; 
 Dropping down the well-known river, 
 Life's swoU'n and rushiag river. 
 
 /""■ 
 
jj— : — lL. 
 
 ■"■^ IG THE LOVIISG CUP. ^ 
 
 To the resurrection-land ; 
 Where the living, live for ever, 
 And the dead have joined the band ; 
 O fair and blessed land ! 
 
 BONAR 
 
 7' HE LOVING CUF. 
 
 COME, drink ye, drink ye, all, of it, 
 Pale childi'en of a King ; 
 Ko poison mingles in the draught. 
 
 So, while ye suffer, sing. 
 Tis Love's own Life hath won it us, 
 
 Christ's lip hath pressed the brim, — 
 Come, drink ye, drink ye, all, of it, 
 In fellowslii]3 with Him ! 
 
 O shun not thou the Loving Cup, 
 
 Nor tremble at its hue ; 
 There is no bitter in the bowl, 
 
 But Jesus drank it, too. 
 He counts thy tears, and knows thy pain, 
 
 Yea, every woe is weighed ; 
 And not a cross He bids thee bear, 
 
 But once on Him was laid. 
 
 Come, drink thou of the Loving Cup \ 
 Thou wouldst not pass it by ? 
 
 'Tis kept for every chosen one 
 Of God's dear family ; 
 
THE SINNER'S FEIEND, 17 
 
 Nor, unbelieving, turn aside ; 
 
 The Lord the cup bestows ; 
 And O His face, above thee bent, 
 
 With love and pity glows I 
 
 Those hands, once bleeding on the Cross, 
 
 xire now outstretched to bless ; 
 He draws thee closer to His heart 
 
 For that draught's bitterness ; 
 He hears thy faintly sobbing breath, 
 
 He marks each quivering limb ; 
 He drank a cup for thee alone — 
 
 Child ! drink it now with Him. 
 
 Let earth bring forth her bitter herbs, 
 
 Soon all their power shall cease ; 
 Come tribulation if it will, 
 
 With Christ's abiding Peace. 
 I take the cup — the Loving Cup, 
 
 Thrice blessed shall it be ; 
 I would not miss one gift, O Lord, 
 
 Thy Blood hath bought for me ! 
 
 ANNA sninoN. 
 
 THE SINNERS FPdEND. 
 
 OTHOU, the contrite sinner's Friend, 
 Who loving, lov'st them to the end. 
 On this alone my hopes depend, 
 That Thou vv'ilt plead for me ! 
 
 Botu 
 
 
-jj' ^ 
 
 •-* 18 THE SINNER'S FRIEND. ^ 
 
 When, weary in the Christian race, 
 Far-off appears my resting-place, 
 And fainting, I mistrust Thy grace — 
 Then. Saviour, plead for me ! 
 
 When I have err'd and gone astray 
 Afjir from Thine and Wisdom's way, 
 And see no glimmering guiding ray — 
 Still, Saviour, plead for me ! 
 
 When Satan, by my sins made bold. 
 Strives from Thy cross to loose my hoLl, 
 Then with Tliy pitying arms enfold, 
 And plead, oh, j^lead for me ! 
 
 And when my dvhig hour draws near, 
 Darken'd with anguish, guilt, and fear, 
 Then to my fainting sight appear. 
 Pleading in Heaven for me ! 
 
 When the full light of Heavenly day 
 Reveals my sins in dread array, 
 Say, Thou hast wash'd them all away ; 
 Oh, say. Thou plead'st for me ! 
 
 CHARLOTTE ELIJOT. 
 
 ^ ^ 
 
THE WAY IS LONG, ETC. jg 
 
 1 + 1 
 
 THE WAY IS LONG AND BliEARY 
 
 THE way is long nnd dreary, 
 The path is bleak and bare , 
 i )ur feet are worn and weary, 
 
 But we will not desi3air. 
 More heavy was Thy burthen. 
 
 More desolate Thy way ; 
 O Lamb of God, who takest 
 The sin of the world away, 
 Have mercy on us ! 
 
 The snovrs lie thick around us, 
 
 In the dark and gloomy nio-ht • 
 And the tempest wails above us, 
 
 And the stars have hid their light. 
 But blacker was the darkness 
 
 Round Calvary's Cross that day. 
 O Lamb of God, that takest 
 
 The sin of the world away, 
 Have mercy on us ! 
 
 Our hearts are faint with sorrow, 
 
 Heavy and sad to bear ; 
 For we dread the bitter morrow 
 . But we will not des])aii-. 
 
 "TT rp" 
 
•^ 20 FEE DEATH OF A BELIEVER. *^ 
 
 Tliou knowest all our anguish. 
 * And Thou Tvilt bid it cease. 
 
 O Lamb of God ! who takest 
 The sin of the world away, 
 Give us Thy peace ! 
 
 ADELAIDE A. PROCTEK. 
 
 THE DEATH OF A BELlEVKll. 
 
 ri^HE Apostle slept ; a light shone in the prison ; 
 Jl An angel touched his side ; 
 " Arise," he said, and quickly he hath risen, 
 His fettered arms untied. 
 
 Tlie watchers saw no light at midnight gleaming 
 
 They heard no sound of feet ; 
 The gates fly open, and the saint still dreaming, 
 
 Stands free upon the street. 
 
 Bo when the Christian's eyelid droops and closes 
 
 In Nature's j)aii:ing strife, 
 A friendly angel stands where he reposes 
 
 To wake him up to life. 
 
 He gives a gentle blow, and so releases 
 
 The spirit from its clay ; 
 From sin's temptations and fi'om life's distresses 
 
 He bids it come away. 
 
 "4^ rp" 
 
^ ^ 
 
 •"■^ THE DEATH Of A BLLIEVER. 21 
 
 It rises up, and from its darksome mansion 
 
 It takes its silent flight, 
 And feels its freedom in the Inrge expansion 
 
 Of Heavenly aii* and liglit. 
 
 Behind, it hears Time's iron gates close faintly ; 
 
 It is now far from tliem, 
 For it has reached the city of the saintly, 
 
 The new Jerusalem ! 
 
 A voice is heard on earth of kinsfolk weej^ing 
 
 The loss of one they love ; 
 But he is gone where the redeemed are keeping 
 
 A festival above. 
 
 The mourners throng the way, and from the 
 steeple 
 
 The funeral-bell tolls slow ; 
 But on the golden streets the holy people 
 
 Are j)assing to and fro ; 
 
 And saying, as they meet, " Rejoice ! another 
 
 Long-waited-for is come ; 
 The Saviour's heart is glad, a younger brother 
 
 Hath reached the Father's home !" 
 
 JAMES I. uur:n9 
 
 ■^1 rf*" 
 
■^ 
 
 9 EARTH A ND HE A VEN. 
 
 EARTH AND HEAVEN. 
 
 rrilE roseate lines of early dawn, 
 JL The brig-litness of the day ; 
 The crimson of the sunset sky, 
 
 How fast they fade away ! 
 Oh, for the j)early gates of Heaven I 
 
 Oh, for the golden floor ! 
 Oh, for the Sun of Righteousness, 
 
 That setteth nevermore I 
 
 The brightest hopes w^e cherish lieie, 
 
 How fast they tire and faint ; 
 How many a spot defiles the robe 
 
 That wraps an earthly saint ! 
 Oh, for a heart that never sins ! 
 
 Oh, for a soul wash'd white ! 
 Oh, for a voice to praise our King, 
 
 Nor weary, day nor night ! 
 
 Here lliith is ours, and Heavenly hope, 
 
 And grace to lead us higher ; 
 But there are perfectness, and peace, 
 
 Beyond our best desire. 
 Oh, by Thy love, and anguish, Lord, 
 
 And by Thy life laid down, 
 Grant that we fall not from Thy grace, 
 
 .Noi cast away our crown I 
 
 _jrp" 
 
UNDERTAKE FOR ME. 23 
 
 % 
 
 UNDERTAKE FOR ME! 
 
 4S those tliat watcli for the day, 
 Through the restless night of j^ain, 
 When the first faint streaks of gray 
 
 Bring rest and ease again — 
 As they turn their sleepless eyes 
 
 The Eastern sky to see, 
 Long hours before sunrise — 
 So waiteth my soul for Thee ! 
 
 As those that watch for the day, 
 
 Through the long, long night of grief, 
 When the soul can only pray 
 
 That the day may bring relief, — 
 When the eyes, with weeping spent, 
 
 No dawn of hope can see. 
 But the heart keeps watch intent, — 
 
 So waiteth my soul for Thee ! 
 
 As those that watch for the day, 
 
 Through that deepest night of all, 
 When trembling, and sin have sway, 
 
 And the shades of Thy absence fall ; 
 As they search through clouds of fear 
 
 The Morning Star to see, 
 And the Light of Life appear — 
 
 •^0 waiteth mv soul for Thee ! 
 
 
4^ ^ 
 
 24 THE UNDISCOVERED COUNTRY. 
 
 As those that watch for the day, 
 
 And know that the day will rise, 
 Though the weary hours delay, 
 
 As they pass under midnight skies ; 
 Though the Sun of Righteousness 
 
 Only Faith's eye can see, 
 Because Thou hast promised to bless — 
 
 Lord Jesus, I wait for Thee ! 
 
 THE UNDISCOVERED COUNTRY. 
 
 COULD we but know 
 The land that ends our dark, uncertain travel, 
 Where lie those hajDpier hills and meadows low ; 
 Ah ! if beyond the spirit's inmost cavil 
 Aught of that country could we surely know, 
 Who would not go ? 
 
 Might we but hear 
 The hovering angels' high imagined chorus, 
 
 Or catch, betimes, with wakeful eyes and clear, 
 One radiant vista of the realm before us — 
 With one raj^t moment given to see and hear, 
 Ah, who would fear ? 
 
 Were we quite sure 
 
 Co find the peerless friend who left us lonely, 
 
 Or there, l:)y some celestial stream as pure, 
 
-jfj % 
 
 THE ANSWER. 25 
 
 To gaze in eyes that here were lovelit only — 
 This weary mortal coil, were we quite sure, 
 Who would endure ? 
 
 Hound Table 
 
 THE AXSWER. 
 
 'i WHO would not go " 
 
 T T With buoyant steps, to gain that blessed 
 portal. 
 Which opens to the land we long to know ? 
 Where shall be satisfied the soul's immortal, 
 Where we shall drop the wearying and the wr 
 In resting so ? 
 
 " Ah, who would fear ?" 
 Since, sometimes through the distant pearly poi 
 tal, 
 Unclosing to some happy soul a-near. 
 We catch a gleam of gl(;rious light immortal, 
 And strains of heavenly music faintly hear, 
 Breathing good cheer ! 
 
 " Who would endure " 
 To walk in doubt and darkness with misgiving, 
 
 When He whose tender promises are sure — 
 The Crucified, the Lord, the Ever-living — 
 Keeps us those " mansions " evermore secure 
 By waters pure ? 
 I 3 ^ 
 
4j -^i 
 
 26 AEE THERE FE W SA VL'D. 
 
 Oh, wondrous laud I 
 Fairer than all our spirit's fairest dreaming : 
 
 " Eye hath not seen" — no heart can understand 
 The things prepared, the cloudless radiance stream- 
 ing. 
 How longingly we wait our Loid's command— 
 His opening hand ! 
 
 Oh, dear ones there ! 
 Whose voices, hushed, have left our j)athway 
 lonely, 
 We come, ere long, your blessed home to share ; 
 We take the guiding Hand, we trust it only — 
 Seeing, by faith, beyond this clouded aii*, 
 That land so fair ! 
 
 J. H. T., IN THE Round TobU. 
 
 LORD, ARE THERE FEW THAT BE SAVED f 
 
 IIJTHETHER there many be, or few, 
 T T Elect the heavenly goal to win, 
 Truly, I know not — this I k:iow — 
 That none who march with footsteps slow, 
 That none who fight with hearts untrue, 
 That none who serve with service cold, 
 The Eternal City can behold, 
 Or enter in. 
 
 +--I 
 
 j:p" 
 
4^ 
 
 ARE THERE FEW SA VED ? 
 
 *Zi 
 
 Whether there many be who thrive 
 
 In their vast suit for that vast love, 
 Truly, I know not— this I know — 
 That love lives not in outward show ; 
 That but to seek is not to strive ; 
 That thankless praises, empty prayers, 
 Can claim no bond, for will of theirs 
 His court to move. 
 
 How long the door, unfastened now. 
 
 Shall open by His grace remain, 
 Truly, I know not— this I know — 
 If once that grace aside He throw, 
 No tear, no sigh, no anguished vow, 
 Gnashing of teeth, wringing of hands, 
 Shall draw the bolts and loose the bands 
 Ever again. 
 
 How long His wi'ath may yet forbear, 
 
 And sheathe His sword, and hide His rod, 
 Truly, I know not — this I know — 
 He points the arrows of His bow, 
 While speed apace that night of fear, 
 Of debt unpaid, of work undone. 
 Where Mercy, Pardon, Hope is none, 
 Laid up with God I 
 
 From Maiming Thoughts, 
 
■>p ^ 
 
 28 L ORD, TIIO U A R T MINE! 
 
 LORD, THOU ART MINE I 
 
 LORD, Til on art mine. 
 Send help to mc ! 
 Christ, I am Thine, 
 Deliver me ! 
 Then shall 1 praise and sing, 
 " My soul, bless thou thy God and King I" 
 
 ' Mercies are Thine, 
 Remember me ! 
 Sad sins are mine. 
 Oh, pardon me ! 
 Then shall I joraise and sing, 
 *' My soul, bless thou thy God and King I" 
 
 Goodness is Thine, 
 
 Lord, pity me ! 
 Evil is mine, 
 Forsake not me ! 
 Then shall I praise and sing, 
 *^ My soul, bless thou thy God and King I" 
 
 All light is Thine, 
 
 Oh, shine on me ! 
 Darkness is mine, 
 Enlighten me I 
 Then shall I praise and sing, 
 " My soul, bless thou thy God and King I" 
 
 +^ — rp" 
 
4 
 
 WS STOOD BESIDE THE RIVER. 29 
 
 True life is Thine, 
 
 Breathe it on me I 
 All death is mine, 
 Oh, quicken me ! 
 Then shall I praise and sing, 
 « My soul, bless thou thy God and King i" 
 
 BONAR. 
 
 WE STOOD BESIDE THE PdVER. 
 
 Tl^'E stood beside the river, 
 T T Whence all our souls must go, 
 Bearing a loved one in our arms, 
 Our hearts repeating the alarms 
 
 That came across the river ; 
 And saw the sun decline in mist, 
 That rose until her brow it kissed. 
 
 And left it cold as snow. 
 
 Watching beside the river, 
 With every ebb and flow, 
 Fond hopes within our hearts would spring, 
 Until another warning ring 
 
 Came o'er the fearful river. 
 We saw the flush, the brightness fade. 
 The loving lips look grieved and sadj 
 
 The white hands whiter grow. 
 
 Watching by the river, 
 With anguish none can tell • 
 
 rH" 
 
4r- 
 
 1 " 
 
 ■qx 
 
 Wi; STOOD BESIDE THE RIVER. 
 
 ^ 
 
 And trembling Learts and hands, we strove 
 To save the darling of our love 
 From going down the river ! 
 Oh, j)owerless, but to weep and pray, 
 And grieve for one who, tar away, 
 Had said his last farewell ! 
 
 Weeping by the river. 
 
 There came a blessed time, 
 A solemn calm spread all around, 
 Making it seem like holy ground, 
 
 Beside the silent river I 
 The world receding from our eyes. 
 Caught gleams of that dear land which lies 
 
 In Canaan's happy clime ! 
 
 And there, beside the river, 
 
 Came lessons strange and sweet, 
 The perfect work of patience done, 
 The warfare finished, victory won 
 
 With weak hands by the river ' 
 The childlike fear, the clinging love, 
 The darkness brightened from above, 
 
 The peace at Jesus' feet ! 
 
 Waiting by the river. 
 
 Through mingled night and day, 
 Sweet memories round our hearts we bring, 
 Of Jesus' love and Heaven we sing, 
 
 
4j ^ 
 
 KNEELING AT THE. ITJUESHOLD. 3] "^ 
 
 To soothe her by the river ; 
 And wept for one whose heart would break, 
 Be pitiful for Jesus' sake. 
 
 Father in heaven, we pray ! 
 
 Standing by the river, 
 We closed the weary eyes, 
 In Jesus' arms we laid her do^vn, 
 A lovely jewel for His crown. 
 
 He bore her through the river, 
 And clothed her in a robe so white, 
 Too beautiful for mortal sight, 
 
 And took her to the skies ! 
 
 KNEELING AT THE THRESHOLD. 
 
 I'M kneeling at the threshold, weary, faint, and 
 sore ; 
 Waiting for the dawning, for the opening of the 
 
 door; 
 Waiting till the Master shall bid me rise and 
 
 come, 
 To the glory of His presence, to the gladness of 
 His home ! 
 
 A weaiy path I've traveled, 'mid darkness, storm, 
 
 and strife : | 
 
 Bearing many a burden, struggling for my life ; I 
 
r* 
 
 .32 KNEELING AT THE THRESHOLD. 
 
 t 
 
 But now tlie morn is breaking, nty toil will soon 
 
 be o'er, 
 
 I'm kneeling at the tlireshold, my hand is on the 
 door ! 
 
 Maiiiinks I hear the voices of the blessed as they 
 stand, 
 
 Singing in the sunshine in the far-off sinless land : 
 
 Oh, would that I were with them, amid their shin- 
 ing throng, 
 
 Mmgling in their worship, joining in their song I 
 
 The friends that started with me have entered 
 
 long ago ; 
 One by one they left me struggling with the foe ; 
 Their j)ilgrimage was shorter, their triumph surer 
 
 won. 
 How lovingly they'll hail me, when all my toil ia 
 
 done ! 
 
 With them the blessed angels that know no grief 
 
 or sin, 
 I see them by the portals, prepared to let me in. 
 O Lord, I wait Thy pleasure ; Thy time and way 
 
 are best ; 
 But I'm wasted, worn, and weary ; O Father, bid 
 
 me rest ! 
 
 GUTHRIE. 
 
 b n r -FJ- 
 
 _i * -| I, iiiiKM ■ ■* rnAsi 
 
1 1 r 
 
 % 
 
 GOD TO ORDER ALL THY WAYS. 33 
 
 LEAVE GOD TO ORDER ALL THY WAYS. 
 
 EAVE God to order all thy ways, 
 J And hope in Him, wbate'er betide ; 
 Thou'lt find Him in the evil days 
 
 An all-sufficient strength and guide. 
 "Who trusts in God's unchanging love, "N 
 Builds on the rock that naught can move/ 
 
 What can these anxious cares avail — 
 These never-ceasing moans. and sighs ? 
 
 What can it help us to bewail 
 Each painful moment as it flies ? 
 
 Our cross and trials do but press 
 
 The heavier for our bitterness. 
 
 Only your restless heart kee23 still. 
 
 And wait in cheerful hope, content 
 To take whate'er His gracious will. 
 
 His all-disceming love, hath sent ; 
 Nor doubt our inmost wants are known 
 To Him who chose us for His own ! 
 
 He knows when joyful hours are best ; 
 I He sends them as He sees it meet ; 
 
 \ When thou hast borne its fiery test, 
 
 I And now art freed from all deceit, 
 
 I He comes to thee all unaware. 
 
 And makes thee own His loving care. i 
 
^i GL OR Y IN TRIE ULA TION ALSO. 
 
 Nor, in the heat of pain and strife, 
 Think God hath cast thee off nnheard ; 
 
 jSTor that the man whose prosperous life 
 Thou enviest, is of him preferred. 
 
 Time passes, and much change doth bring, 
 
 And sets a bound to everything. 
 
 All are alike before His face : 
 
 'Tis easy to our God most high 
 To make the rich man poor and base, 
 
 To give the poor man wealth and joy. 
 True wonders still of Him are wrought, 
 Who setteth up and brings to naught ! 
 
 Sing, pray, and swerve not from His ways, 
 But do thine own part faithfully ; 
 
 Trust His rich promises of grace, 
 So shall it be fulfilled in thee : 
 
 God never yet forsook at need 
 
 The soul that trusted Him indeed ! 
 
 GEORGE NEUMAEK. 
 
 +^ 
 
 WE GLORY IJSr TRIBULATION ALSO. 
 
 U T17ITHIN this leaf, to every eye 
 
 ? T So little worth, doth hidden lie 
 Most rare and subtile fragrancy. 
 'Wouldst thou its secret strength unbind 2 
 Crush it, and thou shalt perfume find 
 Sweet as Arabia's spicv wind. 
 
HYMN. $5 
 
 4 
 
 ** 111 tins dull stone so poor, and bare 
 Of shape or luster, f)atient care 
 Will find for thee a jewel rare ! 
 But first must skillful hands essay, 
 "With file and flint, to clear away 
 The film which hides its fire from day. 
 
 " This leaf! This stone ! It is thy heart ; 
 It must be crushed by pain and smart ; 
 It must be cleansed by sorrow's art. 
 Ere it will yield a fragrance sweet, 
 Ere it will shine a jewel meet 
 To lay before Thy dear Lord's feet !" 
 
 Romans v. 3. 
 
 L^- 
 
 H Y M N. 
 
 OHOLY Saviour, Friend unseen, 
 The faint, the weak, on Thee may lean 
 Help me, throughout Life's varying scene. 
 By faith to cling to Thee ! 
 
 Blest with communion so Divine, 
 Take what Thou wilt, shall I rej)ine. 
 When, as the branches to the vine, 
 My soul may cling to Thee ? 
 
 Far from her home, fatigued, opprest, 
 Here she has found a place of rest. 
 An exile still, yet not unblest. 
 While she can cling to Thee 1 
 
 ■t&H T- rniB— 111— I iiiwi Miaiiw iiiimi iiiibiiii m\ mi wmmbbm^ii—— 3 iJLm 
 
H±i ~^ 
 
 "■^ 36 jrrjiK ^ 
 
 ■VViitit>aT. rt mumiur I dismiss 
 My foimer dreams of eartlily bliss ; 
 jVIy ^ioy, my recompense be this, 
 Eacli hoiir to cling to Thee ! 
 
 What tl". 5ugli the world deceitful j)rove, 
 And earthly li-iends and joys remove, 
 With patient, uncomi^laiaing love, 
 Still wonld I cling to Thee ! 
 
 Oft when I seem to tread alone 
 Some barren waste with thorns o'ergroTvn, 
 A voice of love, in gentlest tone. 
 Whispers, " Still cling to Me !" 
 
 Though faith and hope avrhile be tried, 
 I ask not, need not, aught beside ; 
 How safe, how calm, how satisfied, 
 The souls that cling to Thee ! 
 
 They fear not Life's rough, storms to brave, 
 Since Thou art near, and strong to save ; 
 Nor shudder e'en at Death's dark wave, 
 Because thev cling to Thee ! 
 
 Blest is my lot, whate'er befall ; 
 What can disturb me, who apjjal ; 
 While, as my strength, my rock, my all, 
 Saviour, I cling to Thee ! 
 
 CHARLOTTE ELLIOT. 
 
 ^^ . — rp" 
 

 ^ 
 
 " COME UNTO ME I'' a7 
 
 "COME UNTO MEr 
 
 A RT tliou weary ? Art thou languid \ 
 l\. Ai't thou sore distrest ? 
 " Come to Me," saith One, " and coming, 
 Be at rest !" 
 
 Hath He marks to lead me to Him, 
 
 If He be my Guide ? 
 " In His feet and hands are wound-joriut^ 
 And His side." 
 
 Is there diadem as monarch 
 
 That His brow adorns ? 
 " Yea, a crown in veiy surety, 
 But of thorns !" 
 
 If I find Him, if I follow, 
 
 What His guerdon here ? 
 " Many a sorrovv, many a labor, 
 Many a tear." 
 
 If I still hold closely to Him, 
 
 What hath He at last ? 
 " Sorrow vanquished, labor ended, 
 Jordan past !" 
 
 If I ask Him to receive me. 
 
 Will He say me nay ? 
 *» Not till earth and not till Heaven 
 Pass away I" 
 
[It 
 
 THE UNSEEN BATTLE-FIELD. 
 
 Tending, following, keeping, struggling, 
 
 Is He sure to bless \ 
 " Angels, martyrs, propliets, pilgrims, 
 Answer — Yes !" 
 
 From St. Stephen tlie Salaite. 
 
 THE UNSEEN BATTLEFIELD. 
 
 rrHERE is an unseen battle-field 
 X In every buman breast. 
 Where two opposing forces meet. 
 And where they seldom rest. 
 
 That field is bid from mortal sight, 
 
 'Tis only seen by One, 
 Who knows alone where victory lies 
 
 When each day's fight is done. 
 
 One army clusters strong and fierce, 
 
 Their chief of demon form ; 
 Kis brow is like the thunder-cloud, 
 
 His voice the bursting storirj . 
 
 His captains. Pride, and Lust, and Hate, 
 Whose troops watch night and day ; 
 
 Swift to detect the weakest point, 
 And thii'sting for the fray. 
 
THE UNSEEN BATTLE-FIELD, 8Q 
 
 Contending with this mighty force 
 
 Is but a little band ; 
 Yet there, -with an unquailing front, 
 
 Those warriors firmly stand. 
 
 Their leader is of God-like form. 
 
 Of countenance serene ; 
 And glowing on His naked breast 
 
 A single cross is seen. 
 
 His captains, Faith, and Hope, and Love, 
 
 Point to that wondrous sign ; 
 And, gazing on it, all receive 
 
 Strength from a source Divine. 
 
 They feel it speaks a glorious truth, 
 
 A truth as great as sure, 
 That, to be victors, they must learn 
 
 To love, confide, endure. 
 
 That faith sublime, in wildest strife, 
 
 Imparts a holy calm ; 
 For every deadly blow a shield, 
 
 For every wound a balm. 
 
 And when they win that battle-field, 
 
 Past toil is quite forgot ; 
 The plain where caiTiage once had reigue<l, 
 
 Become a hallowed spot. 
 
 11 
 
4t i:U 
 
 40 WITROCTT MOXEY, ETC. 
 
 Tlic spot Avlioro joy of rtowoi*s ;iiul peace 
 
 Spriiii:: from the fertile soil, 
 And brentUo the perfume of their praiso 
 
 On everv breeze of Ciod ! 
 
 WITHOUT MOXEY AXD WITHOUT FlilCB 
 
 A N I N V I T A T I O N . 
 
 /^ O:\rE to Jesus ! Are yon h-»nely ? 
 \.J SoUiee sweet lie -svill allbrd. 
 Lean on Jesns — Jesns only 1 
 Come, and thid a loving Lord 1 
 
 Are your trials past the telling i 
 Are your sins as ciimson dye 'i 
 
 Jesus sees your sad heart swelling, 
 'Neath aeensing Memory. 
 
 lie is waiting — will you leave Ilira 
 Pleading at your heart in vain ? 
 
 He is willing — oh, believe Him ! 
 He may never call again. 
 
 He hath never yet forsaken 
 One who trusts alone in God ; 
 
 He your life-long debt hath taken. 
 And hath paid it with His Blood. 
 
 
WITHOUT MONEY, ETC. * \\ 
 
 From your sins lie waits to cleanse you — 
 You 1 the slave by Satan bound ; 
 
 Messages of love lie send-i you — 
 Where can such a Friend be found ? 
 
 Arc you sick ? Ills word can heal you. 
 
 Are you weary with tlie strife ? 
 Are you hungry ? He can fill you 
 
 With the Heavenly Bread of Life ! 
 
 Now ! it is the time to try it : 
 Test Him by His written Word ; 
 
 Come, for He will ne'er deny it ; 
 Come to Christ, tlie Risen Lord I 
 
 Do you fear His sharj) rej) roving 
 
 That you did not go before ; 
 That you left Him — so unloving — 
 
 Waiting long time at your door ? 
 
 He will only smile and greet you, 
 Chasing shadows from your brow ; 
 
 He will surely run to meet you. 
 Saying, " Thou art welcome now !" 
 
 By still waters He will lead you, 
 
 In green pastures you shall rest ; 
 
 And the pierced hands that freed you, 
 
 Bear you on His tender breast. 
 4* 
 
 
 f 
 
Jj — lL. 
 
 ■"* 42 * LORD, THOU ART MINE! H 
 
 Come, oh, come, this day, and try it ! 
 
 Jesus' words are proved and true ; 
 Take nis gift, you cannot buy it — 
 
 He hath waited long for you. 
 
 ANNA SHirTON, 
 
 "LOOKING UNTi. JESUS." 
 
 THOU, Lord, my path shalt choose, 
 And my Guide be I 
 What shall I fear to lose 
 
 While I have Thee ? 
 This be my portion blest. 
 On my Redeemer's breast, 
 In peaceful trust to rest : 
 He cares for me ! 
 
 Shall, I then, choose my way ? 
 
 Never, oh, no 1 
 I, a creature of a day. 
 
 What can I know ? 
 What dread perplexity, 
 Then would encompass mc ; 
 Now I can look to Thee, 
 
 Thou orderest so I 
 
 Thi? lightens every cross, 
 Cheers every ill ; 
 
 indaa tmmtmamtmmmammtmtmmmmmmmmmma^m^m^mmmmmtmm^mmmmmmmmmamammX Jmm 
 
4" 
 
 « LOOKING UNTO JESUS." 43 
 
 Buffer I grief or loss, 
 
 It is Thy will ! 
 vVho can make no mistake, 
 Jliooseth tlie way I take ; 
 ^e who can ne'er forsake. 
 
 Holds my hand still ! 
 
 Sweet words of peace and Ic ve 
 
 Christ whispers me ! 
 Beaiing my soul above 
 
 Life's troubled sea 1 
 This be my portion blest, 
 On my Redeemer's breast 
 In peaceful trust to rest : 
 He cares for me I 
 
 Christ died my love to win, 
 
 Christ is my tower I 
 He will be with me in 
 
 Each tiying hour ! 
 He makes the wounded whole, 
 He will my heart console, 
 He will uphold my soul 
 
 By His own power I 
 
 To Thee, the only Wise, 
 
 Whatever be, 
 I will lift up mine eyes 
 
 Joyful in Thee 1 
 
 "T^ 
 
 mama •■9>* 
 
 rH- 
 
i: 
 
 Mm. 
 
 THE SPIRITUAL TEMPLE. 
 
 This be my portion blest, 
 On my Redeemer's breast 
 In peaceful trust to rest : 
 He cares for me ! 
 
 From the German, 
 
 THE SPIRITUAL TEMPLE. 
 
 AND wliither came thece goodly stones 
 'Twas Israel's pride to raise ; 
 The glory of the former house, 
 
 The joy of ancient days ; 
 In purity and strength erect, 
 In radiant splendor bright. 
 Sparkling with golden beams of noon, 
 Or silver smiles of night ? 
 
 From coasts the stately cedar crowns 
 
 Each noble slab was brought, 
 In Lebanon's dee23 quarries hewn. 
 
 And on its mountains wrought ; 
 There rung the hammer's heavy stroke 
 
 Among the echoing rocks ; 
 There chased the chisel's keen, sharp edge, 
 
 The rude, unshapen blocks. 
 
 Thence jDolished, i)erfected, complete, 
 Each fitted to its place, 
 
 vMam Bi iii wi ia 
 
-^t^-^'^ Tz.w^rrr^.i 
 
 »St3 f-i 
 
 THE SPIRITUAL TEMPLE. 
 
 45 
 
 t=^ 
 
 For lofty coping, massive walls, 
 
 Or deep imbedded base — 
 They bore them o'er the waves that rolled 
 
 Their billowy swell between 
 The shores of Tyre's imperial pride, 
 
 And Judah's hills of green. 
 
 With gradual toil the work went on, 
 
 Through days, and months, and years, 
 Beneath the Summer's laughing sun, 
 
 And Winter's frozen tears. 
 And thus in majesty sublime 
 
 And noiseless pomp it rose — 
 Fit dwelling for the God of peace I 
 
 A temple of repose. 
 
 Brethren in Christ, to holier things 
 
 The simple type apply ; 
 Our God himself a temple builds, 
 
 Eternal, and on high, 
 Of ransomed souls ; their Zion there — 
 
 That world of light and bliss — 
 Their Lebanon, the place of toil, 
 
 Of previous moulding — this ! 
 
 From Nature's quarries, deep and dark, 
 
 With gracious aim He hews 
 The stones, the spiritual stones, 
 
 It pleaseth Him to choose. 
 
 I I I'" 
 
THE SPIRITUAL TEMPLE. 
 
 Hard, rugged, sliapeless at the first, 
 Yet destined each to shine — 
 
 Moulded beneath His patient hand- 
 In purity divine. 
 
 Oh, glorious process ! see the proud 
 
 Grow lowly, gentle, meek ; 
 See floods of unaccustomed tears 
 
 Gush down the hardened cheek : 
 Perchance the hammer's heavy stroke 
 
 O'erthrew some idol fond ; 
 Perchance the chisel rent in twain 
 
 Some precious, tender bond. 
 
 Behold, he prays ! Whose lips were sealed 
 
 In quiet scorn before, 
 Sighs for the closet's holy calm, 
 
 And hails the welcome door. 
 Behold, he works for Jesus now, 
 
 Whose days went idly past ; 
 Oh, for more mouldings of the Hand 
 
 That works a change so vast I 
 
 ■Am &■ 
 
 Ye looked on one, a well-wrought stone, 
 
 A saint of God matured. 
 What chiselings that heart had felt ! 
 
 What chastening strokes endured ' 
 
 Pi 
 
»4^ 
 
 ONLY OUR LOVE. 47 
 
 But marked ye not that last soft touch 
 
 What perfect grace it gave, 
 Ere Jesus bore His servant home 
 
 Across the darksome vs^ave ? 
 
 Home to the iDlace His grace designed 
 
 That chosen soul to fill, 
 In the bright temple of the saved, 
 
 Upon His holy hill. 
 Home to the noiselessness, the iDcace 
 
 Of those sweet shrines above, 
 Whose stones shall never be displaced- 
 
 Set in redeeming love. 
 
 Lord, chisel, chasten, polish us, 
 
 Each blemish wash away ; 
 Cleanse us with purifying blood. 
 
 In spotless robes array ; 
 And thus, Thine image on us stamped, 
 
 Transport us to the shore 
 Where not a stroke is ever felt. 
 
 For none is needed more, 
 
 ONL Y OUR LO VE 
 
 TO do Thy holy will ; 
 To bear Thy cross ; 
 To trust Thy mercy still, 
 lu pain or loss ; 
 
 
48 
 
 ONLY OUR LOVE. 
 
 Poor gifts are these to bring, 
 
 Dear Lord, to Thee, 
 "Who hast done everything 
 For me ! 
 
 For Thy beloved Son 
 
 And precious Word ; 
 For all Thy goodness done 
 
 On earth, O Lord ! 
 For leave that I may live, — 
 
 Blest boon of Thine, — 
 What recompense can give 
 
 This heart of mine ? 
 
 What, for Thy glorious earth,— 
 
 Thy stars and flowers ? 
 What, for Thy seasons' birth, 
 
 Kind Lord of ours ? 
 What, for the gentle ones 
 
 Whose lives I share ? 
 For home, and the kindly tones 
 
 Love whispers there ? 
 
 
 Thou, Who enthroned above 
 
 Dost hear our call, 
 Oh, can our faithful love 
 
 Pay Thee for all ? 
 
 rH- 
 
IN THE CLOSET, 4,% 
 
 Poor recompense to bring, 
 
 Dear Lord, to Thee, 
 Who hast done everything 
 For me ! 
 
 GEORGE COOI'ER, 
 
 IN THE CLOSET, 
 
 THE air is stirred with holy life, 
 All earthly thoughts take wing ; 
 Hushed be the tumult of my heart, 
 I hear the angels sing. 
 
 Yes I o'er my bowed and weeping head, 
 
 I feel their waving wings, 
 While mercy-drops are falling round, 
 
 Drops from the heavenly springs. 
 
 And softly from the holy haze 
 Falls forth the word of cheer : 
 
 '' Speak, troubled soul, what is thy need ? 
 Jesus Himself is here I" 
 
 " My Lord and God !" my soul replies, 
 
 " I hear Thy gracious call ; 
 No need have I, since Thou art here, 
 
 Thou art my all in all ! 
 
 il 
 
 ■sal nM 
 
M-+ 
 
 AND THEY S FT ALL SEE HIS FA OF. 
 
 " Oh, let me ever here repose 
 Upon Thy soothing breast ; 
 
 For now I know how blissfully 
 Thy weary ones find rest !" 
 
 D. r., D. 
 
 IN SUFFERING 
 
 TT'ATHER, Thy will, not mine, be done ; 
 -i So prayed on earth Thy sufiering Son ; 
 
 So in His name I pray. 
 The spirit faints, the flesh is weak, 
 Thy help in agony I seek — 
 
 Oh, take this cup away ! 
 
 If such be not Thy soy'reign will, 
 Thy wiser purpose then fulfill ; 
 
 My wishes I resign ; 
 Ijmto Thy hands my soul commend, 
 /; n Thee for life or death depend ; 
 
 Thy will be done, not mine. 
 
 AND THEY SHALL SEE HIS FACE. 
 
 WHAT must it be to dwell above. 
 At God's right hand, where Jesus reigns, 
 Since the sweet earnest of His love 
 Overwhelms us on these dreary plains ! 
 
 
As 
 
 IN THE OTHER WORLD. 
 
 No heart can think, no tongue explain, 
 What blis?, it is with Christ to reign. 
 
 When sin no more obstructs our sight, 
 When sorrow pains our heart no more, 
 
 How shall we view the Prince of Light, 
 And all His works of graca explore ! 
 
 What heights and depths of love Divine 
 
 Will there through endless ages shine ! 
 
 Well, He has fixed the happy day 
 When the last tears will wet our eyes, 
 
 And God shall wipe all tears away, 
 And fill us with Divine surprise 
 
 To hear His voice, and see His face, 
 
 And feel Plis infinite embrace ! 
 
 This is the Heaven I long to know ; 
 
 For this, with patience, I would wait, 
 Till, weaned from earth and all below, 
 
 I mount to my celestial seat, 
 And wave my palm, and wear my crown, 
 And, with the elders, cast them down. 
 
 m 
 
 SWAIN. 
 
 hV THE OTHER WORLD. 
 
 T lies around us like a cloud — 
 A world we do not see ; 
 Yet the sweet closing of an eye 
 May bring us there to be. 
 
 ■ii^'g* 4h*a 
 
 ■■ .-«,».■->,— x«.i.«ii...jyij..-'T»^teyyTrT-nnjwi an II I^IM MLM.IU" m ,3BB 
 
■»::i 
 
 % 
 
 52 ^-V" THE OTHER WORLD. 
 
 Its gentle breezes fan our cheek ; 
 
 Amid our worldly cares 
 Its gentle voices wbisper love, 
 
 And mingle with our prayers. 
 
 Sweet hearts around us throb and beat, 
 Sweet helping hands are stirred, 
 
 4.nd palpitates the veil between 
 With breathings almost heard. 
 
 The silence— awful, sweet, and calm — 
 They have no power to break ; 
 
 For mortal words are not for them 
 To utter or partake. 
 
 So thin, so soft, so sweet they glide, 
 So near to press they seem — 
 
 They seem to lull us to our rest. 
 And melt into our dream. 
 
 And in the hush of rest they bring 
 
 'Tis easy now to see 
 IIow lovely, and how sweet a i)as9, 
 
 The hour of death may be. 
 
 To close the eye, and close the ear, 
 Wrajoped in a trance of bliss, 
 
 And gently dream in loving arms 
 To swoon to that — from this. 
 
 
CHRIST RISEN. 53 
 
 Scarce knowing if we wake or sleep, 
 
 Scarce asking where we are, 
 To feel all evil sink away, 
 
 All sorrow and all care. 
 
 Sweet souls around us ! watch, us still, 
 
 Press nearer to our side, 
 Into our thoughts, into oui* prayers, 
 
 With gentle helpings glide. 
 
 Let death between us be as naught, 
 A dried and vanished stream : 
 
 Your joy be the reality, 
 
 Our sufferijig life the dream. 
 
 H. BEECHER STOWS 
 
 CHRIST RISEN. 
 
 rpHE foe behind, the deep before, 
 X Our hosts have dared and j)ast the sea 
 xVnd Pharoah's wamors strew the shore, 
 And Israel's ransomed tribes are free. 
 Lift up, lift up your voices now ! 
 The whole wide-world rejoices now 1 
 The Lord hath triumphed gloriously I 
 Tlie Lord shall reign victoriously I 
 Happy morrow. 
 Turning son'ow 
 
 Into peace and mirth ! 
 
4-H" 
 
 54 CimiST RISEK 
 
 tit^Kt Eisr 
 
 Bondage ending, 
 Love descending 
 
 O'er the earth ! 
 Seals assuring, 
 Guard's securing ; 
 
 Watch his earthly prison, 
 Seals are shattered, 
 Guards are scattered, 
 
 Christ hath risen ! 
 
 No longer must the mourners weep, 
 
 Nor call departed Christians dead ; 
 For death is hallowed into sleep 
 And every grave becomes a bed. 
 
 Now once more 
 
 Eden's door 
 Open stands to mortal eyes ; 
 For Christ hath risen, and men shall nse : 
 
 Now at last, 
 
 Old things past, 
 Hope, and joy, and j^eace l^egm : 
 For Christ hath won, and men shall win. 
 
 It is not exile, rest on higli : 
 
 It is not sadness, peace from strife : 
 
 To fall asleep is not to die : 
 
 To dwell with Christ is l^etter life. 
 
 "}- 
 
4^' 
 
 IMMANUErS LAND. 55 
 
 Where our banner leads us, 
 
 "We may safely go : 
 Where our Chief precedes us, 
 
 We may face the foe. 
 His right arm is o'er us, 
 
 He will guide us through ; 
 Christ hath gone before us ; 
 
 Christians ! follow you ! 
 
 JOHN MASON NEALE. 
 
 QLORY D WELLE TH IN I MM AN U EL ^ 
 LAND?' 
 
 I. 
 
 rriHE sands of time are sinking, 
 X The dawn of Heaven breaks, 
 The Summer mom I've sighed for. 
 The fair sweet morn, awakes ! 
 
 * Siumu'l Euthciforcl, a man of great learning and talents, waa 
 first a'l'rotossor in the University of Edinburgb, then minister 
 of the parish of Anworth, and subsequently Professor of Theo- 
 logy at St. Andrew's, in Scotland. At one time he was impris- 
 oned for tlie name of Jesus. His death-bed was as remarkable 
 as his life had been. Some of his dying expressions are ])re- 
 »ervod by Mr. Fleming in his Fuljilling of Scripture, who thus 
 eoncliides liis narrative : " And thus, full of the Spirit, yea. as it 
 were, overcome with sensible enjoyment, he breathed oi.t his 
 Bonl, his la?t words being; 'Glory, glory dwelleth in luimau- 
 ucl's landl"" 
 
 ^ 
 
tjr- 1^ 
 
 56 IMMANUEUS LAND. 
 
 Dark, dark hath been the midnight, 
 
 But dayspring is at hand, 
 And glory — glory dwelleth 
 
 In Inimanuel's land. 
 
 II. 
 
 Oh, well it is for ever ! 
 
 Oh, well for evermore ! 
 My nest hung in no forest 
 
 Of all this death-doomed shore. 
 Yea, let the vain world vanish. 
 
 As from the ship the strand, 
 While glory — glory dwelleth 
 
 In Immanuel's land. 
 
 III. 
 There the Red Rose of Sharon 
 
 Unfolds its heartsome bloom, 
 And fills the air of Heaven 
 
 With ravishing perfume : 
 Oh, to behold it blossom, 
 
 While by its fragrance fanned, 
 While glory — glory dwelleth 
 
 lu Immanuel's land. 
 
 IV. 
 
 The King there, in His beauty 
 Without a vail, is seen : 
 
 oAa Seal 
 
 J s a 
 

 fl 
 
 1 
 
 IMMANUEUS LAND. 57 
 
 It were a well-spent journey, 
 Tliough seven deaths lay between. 
 
 The Lamb, with His fair army, 
 Doth on Mount Zion stand, 
 
 And glory — glory dwelleth 
 In ImmanuePs land. 
 
 V. 
 
 Oh, Christ He is the Fountain, 
 
 The deep sweet well of love I 
 The streams on earth I've tasted^ 
 
 More deep I'll drink above : 
 There, to an ocean fulness. 
 
 His mercy doth expand. 
 And glory — glory dwelleth 
 
 In Immanuel's land. 
 
 E'en Anworth was not heaven — 
 
 E'en preaching was not Christ ; 
 And in my sea-l)eat prison 
 
 My Lord and I held tryst : 
 And aye my murkiest storm-cloud 
 
 Was by a rainbow spanned. 
 Caught from the glory dwelling 
 
 In Immanuel's land. 
 
 ^V^'^-^'T TTil 
 
58 IMMANTTEHS LAND. 
 
 VII. 
 
 But til at He built u lieaven 
 
 Of His surpassing love, 
 A little New Jerusalem, 
 
 Like to the one above — 
 " Lord, take me o'er the water,-' 
 
 Had been my loud demand ; 
 " Take me to love's own country, 
 
 Unto Immanuel's land." 
 
 VIII. 
 
 But flowers need night's cool darknoss, 
 
 The moonlight and the dew ; 
 So Christ, from one who loved it. 
 
 His shining oft withdrew : 
 And then, for cause of absence, 
 
 My troubled soul I scanned — 
 But glory, shadeless, shineth 
 
 In Immanuel's land. 
 
 IX. 
 
 The little birds at Anworth 
 
 I used to count them blest — 
 Now, beside happier altars 
 
 I go to build my nest : 
 O'er these there broods no silence, 
 
 No graves around them stand ; 
 For glory, deathless, dwelleth 
 
 In Immanuel's land. 
 
 
 Hn 
 

 ^ IMMANUEU.'^ LAND. 
 
 X. 
 
 Fair Anworth by the Solway, 
 
 To me thou still art dear ! 
 E'en from the verge of Heaven 
 
 I drop for thee a tear. 
 Oh, if one soul from Anworth 
 
 Meet me at God's right hand, 
 My heaven will be two heavens 
 
 In Immanuel's land. 
 
 XI. 
 
 I've wrestled on toward Heaven, 
 
 'Gainst storm, and wind, and tide 
 Now, like a weary traveler, 
 
 That leaneth on his guide, 
 Amid the shades of evening, 
 
 While sinks life's lingering sand, 
 I hail the glory dawning 
 
 From Immanuel's land. 
 
 XII. 
 
 Deep waters crossed life's pathway, 
 
 The hedge of thorns was sharp : 
 Now, these lie all behind me — 
 
 Oh, for a well-tuned harp ! 
 Oh, to join Hallelujah 
 
 With yon triumphant band, 
 Who sing, where glory dwelleth, 
 
 In Immanuel's land. 
 
■~* QO /J/J/.4 jr/ ;• \s- LAND. ^ ^ 
 
 XIII, 
 
 With mercy and with judgment 
 
 My ■\vcb of tin^.e lie wove, 
 And aye tlie dews of sorrow 
 
 Were liisteretl witb His love : 
 I'll bless the Hand that guided, 
 
 I'll bless tbe Heart that planned, 
 When throned where glory dwcUcth, 
 
 In Immanuers land. 
 
 XR'. 
 
 Soon shall the cup of glory 
 
 Wash down earth's bitterest woes, 
 Soon shall the desert's brier 
 
 Break into Eden's rose ; 
 The curse shall change to blessing — 
 
 The name on earth that's banned, 
 Be grayen on the white stone 
 
 In Immanuel's land. 
 
 XY. 
 
 Oh, I am my Beloved's, 
 
 And my Beloved is mine 1 
 He brings a poor vile sinner 
 
 Into His " house of wine I" 
 I stand upon His merit, 
 
 I know^ no safer stand, 
 Not e'en where glory dwelletb 
 
 In Immanuel's land. 
 
IMMANCTEL'S LAND, 61 
 
 xvi. 
 I shall sleep sound in Jesus, 
 
 Filled witli His likeness rise, 
 To live and to adore Him, 
 
 To see Him with these eyes : 
 'Tween me and resurrection 
 
 But Paradise doth stand ; 
 Then — then for glory dwelling. 
 
 In Immanuel's land. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 Tlie bride eyes not her garments, 
 
 But her dear bridegroom's face ; 
 I will not gaze at glory, 
 
 But on my King of Grace — 
 jSTot at the crown He giveth. 
 
 But on His pierced hand : 
 The Lamb is all the glory 
 
 Of Immanuel's land. 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 I have borne scorn and hatred, 
 
 I have borne wrong and shame 
 Earth's proud ones have reproached me, 
 
 For Christ's thrice-blessed name : 
 Where God's seal set the fairest. 
 
 They've stamped their foulest brand ; 
 But judgment shines like noonday 
 
 In Immanuel's land. 
 6 
 
 if- 
 
62 
 
 SURELY I COME QUICKLY. 
 
 SURELY I COME QUICKLY. 
 
 O'ER tlie distant mountains breaking, 
 Comes tlic reddening dawn of day ; 
 Rise, my sonl, from sleep awaking, 
 Rise and sing, and watch, and pray, — 
 
 'Tis thy Saviour, 
 On His bright returning way. 
 
 O Thou long-expected, weary 
 Waits my anxious soul for Thee I 
 
 Life is dark, and earth is dreary. 
 Where Thy light I do not see. 
 
 O my iSaviour, 
 When wilt Thou return to me I 
 
 Long, too long, in sin and sadness, 
 Far away from Thee I pine ; 
 
 When, oh, when shall I the gladness 
 Of Thy Spirit feel in mine I 
 
 O my Saviour, 
 When shall I be wholly Thine ! 
 
 Heaven is my soul's salvation ; 
 
 Spent the night the day at hand ; 
 Keep me in my lowly station, 
 
 Watching for Thee, till I stand, 
 O my Saviour, 
 
 In Thy bright and promised land I 
 
 ■ 1 
 
"HE GOETH BEFORE THE Mr 
 
 riniE winds blow fierce across tlie barren wild ; 
 X The storm-clouds gather darkly on our way ; 
 'Tis cold ! But, oh, that loving face and mild, 
 
 Which goes before ! tliere first the shadows stay ; 
 And tempests reach Him first, our Shepherd there : 
 What He endures shall we complain to bear ? 
 
 The night comes on — 'tis dark ! the stars are dinj, 
 We cannot see the way ! But, oh, that form 
 
 Which goes before ! the night comes j'^ri^ to Him ; 
 And darkness first is His, — as was the storm ! 
 
 Shall we shrink back, or tremble to go on, 
 
 Where He, our Shepherd, first for us hath gone ? 
 
 The way is rough, and wearying steeps arise ; 
 
 And thorns are there to wound our aching feet. 
 But, oh, those sacred footsteps, firm and wise. 
 
 Which go before ! they first the roughness meet, 
 
 I *' HE GOETH BEFORE THEMr %\\ 
 
 Witli my lamp well trimmed and burning, 
 Swift to hear, and slow to roam, 
 
 Watching for Thy glad returning, 
 To restore me to my home. 
 Come, my Saviour — 
 O my Saviour, quickly come ! 
 
 ■*ti— 
 
 ! 
 
 J 
 
 r"""^ 
 

 64 ''HE GOETII BEFORE TEEM:' 
 
 And briers reacli tliem first ! Oh, sliall we dread 
 To bear His cross— to walk where He hatb led ? 
 
 Tlie stream is reached ; — the river dark and cold ; 
 
 The waves are high ! But, oh, that miglity One. 
 Who goes before ! — the billows o'er Him rolled ; 
 
 He crossed the waters first, and shall we shun 
 The final anguish which our Shepherd bore ? 
 His hand shall guide us to the other shore ! 
 
 He goes IjefoTe I And so we may not look 
 Backward at all, but onward evermore ; 
 
 Keeping in sight the blessed path He took, 
 Patient to bear each cross He meekly bore ; 
 
 Trusting His wisdom in the darkest hour ; 
 
 O'ercoming every trial through His power ! 
 
 He goes before I a shield against the storm : 
 A shadow in the noon-day, — lights at night ; 
 
 In danger's hour, there is tlie Shepherd's form 
 But just beyond ; though fears may dim our 
 sight, 
 
 Oh, eaiihly flock, fear not forevermore ! 
 
 Where'er we walk, cm* Shepherd " goes before." 
 
 J. H. T. 
 
 •*yi np" 
 
■tjl 
 
 HIS NAME. 
 
 ~^ 
 
 
 
 HIS NAME. 
 WONDERFUL ! round whoso birtli-hoiii 
 
 Prophetic song, miraculous power, 
 ^ CUister and hum, like star and flower. 
 
 Those marvelous rays that at Thy will 
 From the closed Heaven which is so chil.\ 
 So passionless, stream'd round Thee still 
 
 Are but as broken gleams that start, 
 O Light of lights, from Thy deep heart, 
 Thyself, Thyself, the Wonder art ! 
 
 O Counselor ! four thousand years, 
 One question, tremulous with tears. 
 One awful question, vexed our peers. 
 
 They ask'd the vault, but no one spoke ; 
 They ask'd the depth, no answer woke ; 
 They ask'd their hearts, that only broke. 
 
 They look'd, and sometimes on the height 
 Far off they saw a haze of white. 
 That was a storm, but look'd like light. 
 
 The secret of tlie years is read, 
 The' enigma of the quick and dead 
 By the cliild-voico interpreted. 
 
 g* 
 
 — rp" 
 
6 a 777.9 NAifF. 
 
 O everlastinsf Father, God ! 
 
 Sim after sun went down, and trod 
 
 Race after race tlie orcen earth's sod. 
 
 Till generations seemed to be 
 But dead waves of an endless sea. 
 But dead leaves from a deathless tree. 
 
 But Thou hast come, and now we know 
 Each wave hath an eternal flow, 
 Each leaf a lifetime after snow. 
 
 O Prince of Peace ! crown'd, yet discrowu'd. 
 They say no war nor battle's sound 
 Was heard the tired world around ; 
 
 They say the hour that Thou didst come. 
 The trumpet's voice was stricken dumb, 
 And no one beat the battle-drum. 
 
 Tea, still as life to them that mark. 
 Its poor adventure seems a bark. 
 Whose track is pale, whose sail is dark , 
 
 Thou who art Wonderful dost fling 
 One ray, till like a sea-bird's wing 
 The cany as is a -^nowy thing, — 
 
 "^H— 
 
 J 
 
■^ ' — ^ 
 
 ■■^ ms NAME. ^f! 
 
 Till tlic dark boat is tuni'd to gold, 
 The suulit-silvcr'd ocean rolled 
 With anthems that are new and old, 
 
 With noble path of luminous ray 
 From the boat slanting all the way, 
 To the island of undying day. 
 
 And still as clouding questions swarm 
 Around our hearts, and dimly form 
 Their problems of the mist and storm ; 
 
 And still as ages fleet, but fraught 
 With syllables, whereby is wrought 
 The fullness of the Eternal thought ; 
 
 And when not yet in God's sunshine. 
 The smoke drifts from the embattled line 
 Of warning hearts that would be Thine ! 
 
 We bid our doubts and passions cease, 
 Our restless fears be still'd with these — 
 Counselor, Father, Piince of Peace ! 
 
 BEV. WILLIAM ALEXANDER, 
 
 hi rr 
 
■^ ^ 
 
 63 TIIF E'EN BRINGS A' HAME. 
 
 THE E'EN BRINGS A' HA ME. 
 
 UPON tlie hills the wind is sharj) and cold, 
 The sweet young grasses wither on the wold, 
 And we, O Lord ! have wander'd from Thy fold ; 
 But evening brings us home. 
 
 Among the mists we stumbled, and the rocks . 
 Where the brown lichen whitens, and the fox 
 Watches the straggler from the scattered flocks ; 
 But evening brings us home. 
 
 The sharp thorns prick us, and our tender feet 
 Ai'e cut and bleeding, and the lambs repeat 
 Their pitiful complaints — oh, rest is sweet 
 When evening brings us home. 
 
 We have been wounded by the hunters' darts ; 
 Our eyes are veiy heavy, and our hearts 
 Search for Thy coming — when the light departs 
 At evening, bring us home. 
 
 The darkness garners. Through the gloom no star 
 Rises to guide us. We have wander'd far — 
 Without Thy lamp we know not where we are ; 
 At evening luring us home. 
 

 KNOCKING, KVER KNOCKING. 69 
 
 llie clouds are rouud us, and tlie snow-drifta 
 
 thicken : 
 O Tliou, dear Sliepherd ! leave us not to sicken 
 In the waste night ; our tardy footsteps quicken, 
 
 At evenino^ bring us home. 
 
 KNOCKING, EVER KNOCKING. 
 
 [Suggested by Hunt's Picture of tlie "Light of the Wokld.""] 
 
 " Behold, I stand at the door and Tcnock /" 
 
 KNOCKINGr, knocking, ever knocking ! 
 Who is there ? 
 'Tis a pilgrim, strange and kingly, 
 
 Never such was seen before ; — ' 
 Ah, sweet soul, for such a wonder 
 Undo the door. 
 
 No ! that door is hard to open ; 
 Hinges rusty, latch is broken ; 
 
 Bid Him go. 
 Wherefore, with that knocking dreary 
 Scare the sleep from one so weary ? 
 
 Say Him — no. 
 
 Knocking, knocking, ever knocking ? 
 
 What ! Still there ? 
 Oh, sweet soul, but once behold Him, 
 With the glory-crowned hair ; 
 
 srj i^-, -^ 
 
% 
 
 70 KNOCKING, EVER KNOCKING. 
 
 Anci iliose eyes, so strange and tender, 
 
 Waiting tliere ; 
 Open I Open ! Once behold Ilim — 
 
 Him, so fiiir I 
 
 All, tliat door ! Why wilt Thou Tex me, 
 
 Coming ever to perplex me ? 
 
 For the key is stiffly rusty, 
 
 And the bolt is clogg'd and dusty ; 
 
 Many-finger' d ivy rine 
 
 Seals it fast with twist and twine ; 
 
 Weeds of years, and years before, 
 
 Choke the passage of that door. 
 
 Knocking, knocking ! What ? Still knocking S 
 
 He still there ? 
 What's the hour ? The night is waning—- 
 In my heart a drear complaining, 
 
 And a chilly, sad unrest ! 
 Ah, this knocking ! It disturbs me ! 
 Scares my sleep with dreams iinblest ! 
 
 Give me rest : 
 
 Rest — ah, rest ! 
 
 Rest, dear soul, He longs to give \\\qq ; 
 Thou hast only dream'd of pleasure — 
 Dream'd of gifts and golden treasure — 
 Dream'd of jewels in thy keeping, 
 
-jfj ^ 
 
 JACOB'S LADDER. 71 
 
 Waked to weariness of weeping ; — 
 Oj)en to thy soul's one Lover, 
 And thy night of dreams is over, — 
 The true gifts He brings have seeming 
 More than all thy faded dreaming ! 
 
 Did she open ? Doth she ? Will she ? 
 So, as wondering we behold. 
 Grows the picture to a sign, 
 Press'd upon your soul and mine ; 
 For in eveiy breast that liveth 
 Is that strange mysterious door ; — 
 The forsaken and betangled, 
 Ivy-gnarled and weed-bej angled, 
 Dusty, rusty, and forgotten ; — 
 There the jDierced hand still knocketh, 
 And witli ever patient watching. 
 With the sad eyes true and tender. 
 With the glory-crowned hair, — 
 
 Still a God is waiting there. 
 
 H. BEECHER STOWl': 
 
 JACOB'S LAD I) Ell. 
 
 AH I 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 lives of gold. 
 
4^ ^ 
 
 72 JACOB'S LADDER. 
 
 But never more, as to the Hebrew boy, 
 
 Each on his way the Angels walk abroad, 
 A.nd 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, aye keeping time and 
 tryst — 
 Heart-wishes, making bee-like murmurings, 
 Their ^ower the Eucharist. 
 
 Sj^irits elect, through suffering render'd meet 
 
 For those high mansions — from the nurseiy-door 
 Blight babes that seem to climb with clay-cold 
 feet, 
 
 Up to the Golden Floor— 
 
 These are the messengers, forever wending 
 
 From earth to Heaven, that faith alone may 
 scan ; 
 These are the Angels of our God, ascending 
 UlDon the Son of Man ! 
 
 W. ALEXANDEH. 
 
MARAR. 
 
 MA R A H . 
 
 
 73 
 
 i^ 
 
 r\ OD sends 11-3 bitter, that the sweet, 
 'JT Bj absence known, may sweeter prove ; 
 As dark for light, as cold for heat, 
 Brings greater love. 
 
 God sends us bitter, as to show 
 
 He can both sweet and bitter send ; 
 That both the might and love we know 
 Of our great Friend. 
 
 He sends us bitter, lest too gay 
 
 We wreathe around our heads the rose, 
 And count our right, what Heaven each daj 
 As alms bestows. 
 
 God sends us bitter, lest we fail 
 
 That bitterest Grief aright to prize 
 Which did for all the world avail 
 In His own eyes. 
 
 God sends us bitter, all our sins 
 Embittering ; yet so kindly sends, 
 The path that bitterness begins 
 In swr-<^tnes8 ends. 
 
 ■^BmJ BABa 
 
% 
 
 74 MA BAR. 
 
 He sends us bitter, that Heaven's sweet, 
 Earth's bitter o'er, may sweeter taste ; 
 As Canaan's ground to Israel's feet. 
 For that great waste. 
 
 Our passions murmur and rebel, 
 
 But Faith cries out unto the Lord, 
 And prayer by patience worketh well 
 Its own reward. 
 
 For, if our heart the lesson draws 
 
 Aright, by bitter chastening taught, 
 To keep His statutes and His laws 
 Even as we ought, 
 
 He openeth our eyes to see 
 
 (Eyes that our pride of heart had sea'ld) 
 The sweetness of Life's heavenly Tree, 
 And grief is heal'd. 
 
 And lo ! before us in the way 
 
 We view the fountains and the palms. 
 And drink, and pitch our tents, and stay 
 Singing fiweet psalms. 
 
 '■JHARLES LAWEENCE FORD 
 
 -en if- 
 
- iI t 
 
 PER PACEM AD LUCEM. 
 
 PER PACEM AD LUCEM. 
 
 I DO not ask, O Lord ! that life may be 
 A pleasant road ; 
 I do uot ask that Thou wouldst take from me 
 
 Aught of its load ; 
 I do not ask that flowers should always spring 
 
 Beneath my feet ; 
 I know too well the poison and the sting 
 
 Of things too sweet. 
 For one thing only, Lord, dear Lord ! I plead : 
 
 Lead me anght — 
 lliough strength should falter, and though heart 
 should ble-cd — 
 
 Through Peace to Light. 
 
 I do not ask, O Lord ! that Thou shouidst shed 
 
 Full radiance here ; 
 Give but a ray of Peace, that I may tread 
 
 "Without a fear. 
 I do not ask my cross to understand, 
 
 My way to see, — 
 Better in darkness just to feel Thy Hajd, 
 
 And follow Thee. 
 Joy is like restless day, but Peace Divine 
 
 Like quiet night. 
 Lead mc, O Lord ! till perfect Day shall shine, 
 
 Through Peace to Light. 
 
 A. A. PROCTOR. 
 
 "T^ 
 
 rH* 
 
 wn^ffmmptsfs^ 
 

 j I' 
 
 76 **FVFN J^' TUOU WILT," 
 
 **EVEN AS THOU WILT." 
 
 LL TTAVE mercy on me. Lord I" 
 
 JLl She followed Him, and cried ; and when 
 there came 
 No answer, follow'd, cryhig still the same, — 
 " Have mercy on me, Lord !" 
 
 " Send her away,'' they said — 
 They who should be dispensers of His grace, 
 ■\\^oiild have Him turn irom her wiio sought Hia 
 face : 
 
 " Send her away," they said. 
 
 He spoke their thought aloud — 
 " It is not meet to take the children's bread 
 And cast it to the dogs " — as if He said, 
 "How poor ye are and proud." 
 
 " Yea, Lord ! and yet the dogs 
 Eat of the crumbs that from the children fall," 
 She pleaded — " and there is enough for all — 
 
 For children and for dogs." 
 
 And He to her replied, 
 " Even as Thou wilt, so be.it unto Thee. 
 Thy heart the measure of the grace shall be 
 
 From my rich store supplied." 
 
 V 
 
THE TWO SUNSETS, *i% 
 
 She had the thing she would — 
 Lord I if I dip my cup into the sea, 
 It rises full. Such cup each soul may be, 
 
 Sncli Ocean is Thy good ! C. 
 
 N 
 
 THE TWO SUNSETS, 
 
 O bird-song floated down the hill, 
 The tangled bank below was still 
 
 
 No rustle from the birchen stem, 
 No ripple from the water's hem. 
 
 The dusk of twilight round us grew, 
 We felt the falling of the dew ; < 
 
 For, from us, ere the day was done, 
 The wooded hills shut out the sun. 
 
 But on the river's farther side, 
 We saw the hill-tops glorified : 
 
 A tender glow, exceeding fair, 
 A dream of day without its glare. 
 
 With us the damp, the chill, the gloom ; 
 With them the sunset's rosy bloom ; 
 7* 
 
 ii» |» |» ■!» mil I 
 
 ™j:p" 
 
THE TWO Su'XSETS. 
 
 While dark, tlirongb willowy vistas Been, 
 The river rolled in shade between. 
 
 From out the darkness, where we trod, 
 We gazed upon those hills of God, 
 
 Whose light seemed not of moon or sun ; 
 We spake not, but our thought was one. 
 
 We paused, as if from that bright shore 
 Beckoned our dear ones gone before ; 
 
 And stilled our beating hearts to hear 
 The voices lost to mortal ear ! 
 
 Sudden our pathway turned from night ; 
 The hills swung open to the light ; . 
 
 Thro' their green gates the sunshine showed ; 
 A long, slant splendor downward flowed. 
 
 Down glade, and glen, and bank it rolled : 
 It bridged the shaded stream with gold, 
 
 * And, borne on piers oi mist, allied 
 The shadowy with the sunlit side I 
 
 "' So," prayed we, " when our feet draw near 
 The river, dark with mortal fear, 
 
WHY DOST THOU WAIT? 
 
 And the niglit cometh, chill Tvith dew, 
 O Father ! let Thy light break through I 
 
 So let the hills of doubt divide, 
 
 So bridge with faith the sunless tide ! 
 
 So let the eyes that fail on earth 
 On Thy eternal hillg look forth ; 
 
 And, in Thy beckoning angels, know 
 The dear ones whom we loved below !" 
 
 JOHN G. WHITTTER. 
 
 WHY DOST THOU WAIT? 
 
 POOR trembling lamb ! Ah, who outside tlio 
 fold 
 Has bid thee stand, all weary as thou art ? 
 Dangers around thee, and the bitter cold 
 
 Creeping and growing to thine inmost heart ; 
 Who bids thee wait till some mysterious feeling, 
 Thou know'st not what — perchance may never 
 know — 
 Bhall find thee where in darkness thou art kneel- 
 ing, 
 And fill thee with a rich and wondrous glow 
 Of love and faith ; and change to warmth and 
 light 
 The chill and darkness of thy spirit's night ? 
 
^ 
 
 80 "'^^^ ^> OST TIIO U WA IT? 
 
 For miracles like this, who bids thee wait ? 
 
 Behold, " The Spirit and the Bride say, Come I** 
 The tender Shepherd opens wide the gate, 
 
 And in His love would gently lead thee home. 
 Wliy shouldst thou wait ? Long centuries ago, 
 
 Thou timid lamb, the Shepherd paid for thee. 
 Thou art His own. Wouldst thou His beauty 
 know, 
 
 Wor trust the love which yet tliou canst not see ? 
 Thou hast not learned this lesson to receive ; 
 
 More bless'd are they who sec not, yet believe. 
 
 Still dost thou wait for feeling ? Dost thou say, 
 
 " Fain would I love and trust, but hope is dead ; 
 I have no faith, and without faith, who may 
 
 Rest in the blessing which is only shed 
 Upon the faithful ? I must stand and wait." 
 
 Not so. The Shepherd does not ask of thee 
 Faith in thy faith, but only faith in Him. 
 
 And this He meant in saying, " Come to Me I" 
 In light or darkness seek to do His will. 
 
 And leave the work of faith to Jesus still. 
 
 Church Jou-rndl'* 
 
 IT- 
 
4^ 
 
 TflE EVERLASTING MEMORIAL. 81 
 
 THE EVERLASTING MEMORIAL. 
 
 C'P and away, like the dew of the raoming, 
 That soars from the earth to its home in tiie 
 sun, — 
 So let me steal away, gently and loringly, 
 Only remembered by what I have done. 
 
 My name, and my place, and my tomb all for- 
 gotten, 
 
 The brief race of time well and patiently run, 
 So let me x>ass awa^, peacefully, silently, 
 
 Only remembered by what I have done. 
 
 Gladly away from this toil would I hasten, 
 Up to the crown that for me has been won ; 
 
 Unthought of by man in rewards or in praises, — 
 Only remembered by what I have done. 
 
 Up and away, like the odors of sunset, 
 That sweeten the twilight as darkness comes 
 on ; 
 
 So be my life, — a thing felt but not noticed, 
 And I but remembered by what I have done. 
 
 Yes, like the fragrance that wanders in freshness. 
 When the flowers that it came from are closed 
 up and gone ; 
 
THE EVERLASTING MEMORIAL. 
 
 So would I be to this world's weary dwellers;, 
 Only remembered by what I liave done. 
 
 Needs there the praise of the love-written record, 
 The name and the epitaph graved on the stone ? 
 The things wc have lived for, — let them be our 
 story, 
 We ourselves ])ut remembered by what we have 
 done. 
 
 I need not be missed, if my life has been bearing 
 (As its Summer and Autumn moved silently on) 
 
 The bloom, and the fruit, and the seed of its season ; 
 I shall still be remembered by what I have done. 
 
 1 need not be missed, if another succeed me, 
 To reap dow^n those fields which in Spring I 
 have sown ; 
 He who ploTved and who sowed is not missed by 
 the reaper, 
 He is only remembered by what he has done. 
 
 Not myself, but the truth that in life I have 
 spoken. 
 Not myself, but the seed that in life I have 
 sown, 
 Shall pass on to ages, — all about me forgotten, 
 Save the truth I have spoken, the things I have 
 done. 
 
THE TWO VILLAGES. 
 
 83 
 
 So let my living be, so be my dying ; 
 
 So let my name lie, unblazoned, unknown ; 
 Unpraised and unmissed, I shall still be remem- 
 bered ; 
 
 Yes, — Init remembered by wliat I have done. 
 
 150NAR. 
 
 THE TWO VILLAGES. 
 
 OVER the river on the hill 
 Lieth a village vrhite and still ; 
 All around it the forest-trees 
 Shiver and whisper in the breeze ; 
 Over it sailing shadows go 
 Of soaring hawk and screaming crow, 
 And mountain grasses, low and sweet, 
 Grow in the middle of every street. 
 
 Over the river under the hill 
 iVjiother village lieth still ; 
 There I see in the cloudy night 
 Twinkling stars of household light, 
 Fires that gleam from the smithy's door, 
 Mists that curl on the river's shore ; 
 And in the roads no grasses grow, 
 For the wheels that hasten to and fro. 
 
 In that village on the hill 
 
 Never is sound of smithy or mill ; 
 
4^ ~~ ^ 
 
 ^ S4 Tl/i: WAYSIDPJ WATCTIEE. ^ 
 
 The t)oiises are thatched with grass and flowers, 
 
 Never a clock to tell the hours ; 
 
 The marble doors are always shut ; 
 
 You may not enter at hall or hut : 
 
 All the village lie asleep ; 
 
 Never a grain to sow or reap ; 
 
 Never in dreams to moan or sigh, 
 
 Silent, and idle, and low they lie. 
 
 In that village under the hill, 
 When the night is starry and still, 
 Many a weary soul in prayer 
 Looks to the other village there. 
 And weeping and sighing, longs to go 
 Up to that home, from this below ; 
 Longs to sleep by the forest wild, 
 Whither have vanished wife and child, 
 And heareth, praying, this answer fall — 
 " Patience ! that village shall hold ye all !" 
 
 THE WAYSIDE WATCIIEE. 
 
 iL k LL the day you sit here idle, 
 
 l\. And the Master at the door I 
 The fields are white to harvest. 
 
 And our labor almost o'er. 
 You are dreaming, you are dreaming I 
 
 Time is gliding fast away ; 
 
 ^ — rp- 
 
■^ 
 
 THE WAYSIDE WATCHER. 85 
 
 "T- 
 
 See ! tbe eventide is waning, 
 Soon shall break eternal day." 
 
 " Brother, my hand is feeble. 
 
 My strength is well-nigh spent : 
 I saw you all at noon-day, 
 
 And I marked tbe way ye went 
 I cried, ' God's blessing on them. 
 
 What a favored band they be ! 
 But I'll watch upon the highway, 
 
 God may find a work for me.' " 
 
 " Yet you tarry, yet you tarry," 
 
 Said the laborer again, 
 " You may idle on the highway, 
 
 And wait all day in vain. 
 'Tis easy labor ' waiting ;' 
 
 On the dusty road we tread 
 To toil within the vineyard : 
 
 Go out and work instead." 
 
 The watcher smiled and answered, 
 
 " My brother, is it so ? 
 Who waiteth on the Master, 
 
 The Master's will shall know, 
 lie hath taught me one sweet lesson, 
 
 I have learnt it not too late, 
 There is service for the feeblest 
 
 That only stand and waH." 
 8 
 
g6 THE WAYSIDE WATCH EB, 
 
 I sat me by the hedo:e-row, 
 
 No burden could I bear, 
 But I often tbouglit, bow blessed 
 
 In '^be field to bave a share ! 
 The loving Master v/bispered, 
 
 Through the often lonely day, 
 " Still wait on Me, thou weak one, 
 
 The lame shall take the prey." 
 
 Not long I tarried watching : 
 
 A wayfarer drew nigh, 
 lie was weary, sad, and hungry, 
 
 For the glowing sun was high. 
 His foot lagged faint and fainter, 
 
 His eyes were downward cast ; 
 That laborer by my lattice 
 
 At early morn had passed. 
 
 I drew Mm 'neath the trellis 
 
 Of the vine's inviting shade, 
 Down by the soft green pasture 
 
 Our Shepherd's love hath made. 
 I fetched him from the streamlet 
 
 Fresh water for his feet, 
 I spread the bread before him, 
 
 And bade him rest and eat. 
 
 He bathed in the bright fountain. 
 And then, reft'cshed and strong, 
 
 II Bill III ■■■■iimwMM»wrrmi»tT»irT»nTiTTTirinM»»rii»MiB^»wn»iWBM»iMltnrir' F'~*~*™***' 
 
 
THE WAFSIDI^ WATCHER. 
 
 87 
 
 He journeyed on rejoicing : 
 
 You could hear his happy son^. 
 
 Where, on the dusty wayside, 
 The traveler had been, 
 
 Stood One, in heavenly beauty, 
 With more than regal mien. 
 
 " I thank thee," said the Stranger, 
 
 " For all thy cares afford, 
 For rest, and food, and welcome. 
 
 Beside thy simple board." 
 " Nay, Lord," I said, " what succor 
 
 Have I bestowed on Theo ?" 
 " Thy service to my servant 
 
 Hath all been done to Me." 
 
 Oil, it was Avell worth watcliing, 
 
 A Summer's day alone ; 
 Well worth the wear}- waiting, 
 
 To hear His sweet " Well done !'* 
 Is it too small a matter, 
 
 That in man's foolish pride 
 He scorns one heart to gladden 
 
 For which the Saviour died ? 
 
 "T- 
 
 Oh, over blessed Master ! 
 
 The harvest-field is fair. 
 And Thou hast better servants, 
 
 Than Thy weak one, everywhere. 
 
4* ^ 
 
 ■—^ 88 THE WAYSIDE WATCHER. > ^ 
 
 Tbou never liast forsaken 
 
 One waiting by the way ; 
 Still meet me with a promise, 
 
 That the lame sluill take the prey. 
 
 From the tangled thicket near me 
 
 I heard a mournful cry ; 
 A little child had wandered 
 
 From the sunny path hard by ; 
 His hands were torn with briers, 
 
 His hot tears fell like rain ; 
 And he wept, lest he should never 
 
 See his father's face again. 
 
 Close to my heart I drew him, 
 
 And pointed to the sky ; 
 I showed him how the dark clouds. 
 
 So slowly sailing by, 
 But veiled the bright sun's radiance 
 
 From valley and from hill ; 
 For the faithful sun was shining 
 
 In all his glory still ! 
 
 He ceased to weep, and listened % 
 
 I soothed his childish woe : 
 Then on the way I led him, 
 
 And soon beheld him go 
 
 ■qn . — rp" 
 
■^ ^ 
 
 TI/E WAVSinN WATCHER. gS 
 
 Back through the green fields singing : 
 
 Sweet was the joyful sound, 
 That told the father's welcome, 
 
 And the little wanderer found I 
 
 Then on the highway, near me, 
 
 I saw the Stranger stand — 
 Stranger no more ! He guided 
 
 The fliir child by the hand. 
 " I thank thee," said He softly, * 
 
 " Thou hast not w^atched in vain ; 
 Behold my child returned 
 
 Safe to my arms again." 
 
 What grace is Thine, O Master I 
 
 For work so poor and scant ; 
 How glorious is the guerdon 
 
 My loving Lord doth grant I 
 I only saw a nursling 
 
 Was wandering astray : 
 Oh, it is worth cross-bearing 
 
 To wait for Thee one day ! 
 
 Have ye known the shadows darken 
 
 On weary nights of pain. 
 And hours that seem to lengthen 
 
 Till the night comes round again ? 
 
 8* _ 
 
 ■%! if- 
 
tt 
 
 00 THE WAYSIDE WATCHER, 
 
 The folded hands seem idle : 
 If folded at His word, 
 
 "Hs a holy service, trust me, 
 In obedience to the Lord. 
 
 Ye know the joy of labor 
 
 Within the 'ousy field ; 
 But there are deeper pleasures 
 
 A fnthfiil heart may yield. 
 To willing ones that sutler. 
 
 And listen at His fe?t, 
 From the far-otl" land God giveth 
 
 Tlie fruit of life to eat. 
 
 Brief is my hour of labor : 
 
 JMy Lord my lot hath cast ; 
 lie giveth royal wages 
 
 To the tirst-cnlled as the last. 
 1 have seen Ilini in Wv:-, beaury, 
 
 While waiting;- here alone — 
 I know Him cvor near me. 
 
 For He camu-t leave His own, 
 
 None e'er shall ]:u'k a service, 
 "Who only seek His will ; 
 
 And He doth teach His children 
 To sutler and be still. 
 
 h 
 
IJ 
 
 CAHT D WN B UT NO T DESTROYED. 9 ] 
 
 In love's deep fount of treasures 
 Such precious things are stored, 
 
 Laid up for you, O I)les3ed 
 That wait upon the Lord ! 
 
 A^fXA Snil'TON. 
 
 CAST DOWN BUT NOT DESTROYED. 
 
 X^CH have I borne, but not as I shouki bear ; 
 The proud will unsubdued, the formal prayer, 
 Tell me Tliou yet wilt chide. Thou canst not spare, 
 
 O Lord, Thy chastening rod I 
 O help me. Father ! for my sinful heart 
 Back from this discipline of grief would start. 
 Unmindful of His sorer, deeper smart. 
 Who died for me, my God ! 
 
 Yet if each wish denied, each woe and pain, 
 Break but some link o*' tiiat oppressive chain 
 Which binds us still to earth, and leaves a stain 
 
 Thou only canst remove — 
 TJien am I blest— oh, bliss from man concealed ! 
 If here to Christ, the vreak one's tower and shield, 
 My heart through sorrow be set free to yield 
 
 A service of deep love. f. f. 
 
H-f 
 
 92 
 
 ABOUND I XG IN HOPE. 
 
 
 ABOUNDING IX HOPE. 
 
 HOPE, Cliiistiau soul ! in every stage 
 Of this, thine earthly pilgrimage, 
 Let heavenly joy thy thoughts engage — 
 Abound in hope. 
 
 Hope ! though thy h)t be want and vroe. 
 Though hate's rude storms against thee blow, 
 Thy Saviour's lot was such below — 
 Abound in hope. 
 
 Hope ! for to all who meekly bear 
 His cross. He gives His crown to wear ; 
 Abasement here is glory there — 
 Abound in hope. 
 
 Hope ! though thy dear ones round thee die, 
 Behold with Faith's illumined eye 
 Their deathless home Ijeyond the sky- 
 Abound in hope. 
 
 Hope ! for upon that happy shore 
 Sorrow and sighing will be o'er, 
 And friends shall meet to part no more — 
 Abound in hope. 
 
it' — " 
 
 "//^ GIVETTI SONGS IN TEE NIGHT:* 93 
 
 nt" 
 
 Hope througli the watches of the night : 
 Hope till the morrow bring the light : 
 Hope till thy faith be lost in sight — 
 Abound in hope. 
 
 KEJSlSfEDY, 
 
 ''HE GIVETH SONGS IN THE NIGHT: 
 
 Tl^E praise Thee oft for hours of bliss, 
 
 T T For days of quiet rest ; 
 But, oh, how seldom do we feel 
 That pain and tears are best ! 
 
 We praise Thee for the shining sun, 
 For kind and gladsome ways : 
 
 When shall we learn, O Lord ! to sing 
 Through weary nights and days. 
 
 We praise Thee when our path is plain 
 And smooth beneath our feet ; 
 
 But fain would learn to welcome pain, 
 And call the bitter sweet. 
 
 When rises first the blush of hope. 
 Our hearts begin to sing ; 
 
 But surely not for this alone 
 Should we our gladness brin<?. 
 
94 " JJE GIVETH SONGS IN THE NIGHT."* 
 
 Are there no hours of conflict fierce, 
 
 l!To weary toils and pains, 
 No watchings, and no bitterness, 
 
 That bring their blessed gnins ? 
 
 That bring their blessed gains full well, 
 
 In truer faith and love, 
 And patience sweet, and gentleness. 
 
 From our dear Home above ! 
 
 Teach Thou our weak and wandering hearts 
 
 Aright to read Thy way, — 
 That Thou with loving hand dost trace 
 
 Our history every day. 
 
 Then every thorny crown of care 
 
 Worn well in patience now. 
 Shall grow a glorious diadem 
 
 Upon the faithful brow ; 
 
 And every word of grief shall change 
 
 And wave a blessed flower, 
 And lift its face beneath our feet 
 
 To bless us every hour ; 
 
 And Sorrow's face shall be unveiled. 
 
 And we at last shall see 
 Her eyes are eyes of tenderness, 
 
 Her sf)eech but echoes Thee ! 
 
 JOHN PAGE nOPP3. 
 
Mil U 'lU lllUHk.«ti 1 
 
 NEAREST AND DEAREST. 95 
 
 NEAREST AND DEAREST. 
 
 T was the Sabbath's blessed evening hour, 
 And the dusk stiUness of the fire-lit room 
 Fell on the spirit with a soothing power, 
 
 A spell of holy calm unmixed with gloom. 
 The fire-light flickered upon steadfast eyes. 
 
 Brows where the Prince of Peace his seal had set, 
 And tremulous lips where echoes of the skies, 
 
 Most eloquent in silence, lingered yet. 
 
 > At length the musing of one heart found w^ay ; 
 \ " Oh, it is bliss !" she said, " to join the throng 
 
 That fills God's temple on His holy day. 
 With the full harmony of sacred song. 
 j Surely the soul draws nearest to Him there, 
 i And bows with holiest awe before His throne ; 
 
 i Surely the highest bliss of faith and prayer 
 ] Is found within those sacred courts alone !" 
 
 j '* Nay," said another, " not alone ! Our Lord 
 ' Dwells not in temples made with hands. He 
 
 fills 
 The lone heights of the everlasting hills. 
 I And dwells with all who tremble at His word ! 
 
 \ And I have felt His blessed presence more, 
 I And owned with lowlier awe its hallowing sway 
 
 mmiB^nwm 
 
4" 
 
 96 NEAREST AND DEAREST. 
 
 On the lone hill-side or the waye-washed shore, 
 Than even in His house of prayer to-day." 
 
 Then spake a third—" Oh, friends, full well I know 
 
 The joys ye speak of; but one dearer far 
 Comes to me often in the ceaseless flow 
 
 Of week-day cares, amid earth's din and jar, 
 When for a moment's breatliing-time I pause, 
 
 Saying, ' O Master, bless,' and lo ! the while, 
 He stands beside me, and my spirit draws 
 
 A heaven of rest, and gladness from His smile." 
 
 She ceased, and then one answered yet again — 
 
 " Yea, it is always bliss to feel Him near 
 In crowd, or solitude, or sacred fane. 
 
 But never is His presence half so dear 
 As when the storms of son-ow o'er ns meet. 
 
 And we with bleeding heart and bafiled will, 
 ' Faint yet pursuing ' struggle to His feet, 
 
 And lay our souls before Him, and are still." 
 
 Then all were silent, and my heart said^ " Yea, 
 Thou hast well spoken, thou dost well to prize. 
 
 Higher than any bliss beneath the skies, 
 
 The faith that clings and trusts Him ' though Ha 
 slay.' 
 
 This is the one note in the song of praise, 
 Kolling from all creation round the throne. 
 
 rf- 
 

 JlJiEP NOT FOR HER! 
 
 That only liuman hearts sore tried can raise, 
 And even they in this brief life alone." 
 
 "1 
 
 97 
 
 A, 
 
 
 WEEP NOT FOR HER! 
 
 IITEEP not for her, for she hath crossed the 
 T ? river, 
 
 We almost saw Him meet her on the shore, 
 Ajid lead her through the golden gates, where 
 never 
 Sorrow or death can enter any more. 
 
 Weep not for her, that she hath reached before us 
 The safe, warm shelter of her long-loved home ; 
 
 Weep not for her, she may be bending o'er us, 
 In quiet wonder when we too shall come. 
 
 Weep not for her ; think how she may be kneeling 
 Gazing her fill upon the Master's face ; 
 
 A loving, humble smile, but half revealing 
 The perfect peace she feels in Mary's place. 
 
 But weep for those round whom the fight is 
 thronging, 
 Who still must buckle heavy armour on, 
 Who dare not pray for rest, though sore theii 
 longing, 
 Till all the weary working day be done. 
 
 ^ 
 
 ri 
 
 J4T 
 
4 
 
 r 
 
 98 AN- OPEN DOOR, 
 
 And pray for tliem, that tliey, though sad and 
 loiKjly, 
 
 May still with patience bear the cross He sends, 
 And learn that tears, and wounds, and losses, only 
 
 Make peace the sweeter wh.a the warfare ends. 
 
 1 
 
 AX OPEN DOOR. 
 
 H, never say that the door is shut 
 To any watcher weary of sin ! 
 Thou knowest who said, and who says it still, 
 
 " Ye weary and troubled to rest come in." 
 We may stand v/ithout till He says, " Too late," 
 But God's is never a fast shut gate. 
 
 And though we have often refused to come. 
 And chosen to wander alone in the night, 
 
 He follows us home, and at our shut door 
 He knocks, and ofiers us love ;ind light ; 
 
 And He says to each, '' Thou rebellious child, 
 
 i beseech thee this night to be reconciled !" 
 
 And we answer, " O Christ ! it is cold and dark, 
 And I long to be warm, and safe, and free. 
 
 Hut Satan has bound me and locked the door, 
 And he holds me back when I touch the key 
 
 lie told me once that my home was bright. 
 
 But now I feel it is always niglit." 
 
p 
 
 m^BM— I— BMBiMIBaaa TTinTW i HlHIiW- 
 
 ^.V OPEN DOOR. 99 
 
 And we hear a Voics, though the door is shut, 
 We can catch the words though the wind is high, 
 
 A.S the Holy Spirit unlocks the door, 
 And Jesus enters and says, '* 'Tis I !" 
 
 And straightway our fetters broken fall, 
 
 And we know that our Saviour has done it all. 
 
 Then never say that his door is shut — ■ 
 
 He loved us befcre we had heard his name ; 
 
 He offered us pardon, and hoi)e, and Heaven, 
 And if ice refused it, is Christ to blame ? 
 
 If in unbelief we shut the gate, 
 
 Can we say that Christ has made us wait 1 
 
 And He knew we \vere cold and hungry too, 
 So He begged us to come, and be warmed, and 
 fed. 
 But we passed, and knocked at another door. 
 And they gave us a stone when we asked for 
 bread ; 
 Yet we said, " Xo, Lord ! we will keep our sin. 
 Though Thy door is wide, and there's joy within.'" 
 
 But He waited still, though we passed Him by ; 
 
 iVnd when all false lights had grown dim He 
 came — 
 He made us willing to hear His voice. 
 
 And 'twas He that taught us to love His name ; 
 
Jj ' — ii+ 
 
 I 'I Ti 
 
 100 " SOEA'OWIXG TET BEJOICISG:' 
 
 And He brings a light that no shade can dim, 
 When He dwells in us, and we in Him. a. a. 
 
 4i 
 
 ' SORROWIXG YET ALWAYS JIEJOICIXG:' 
 
 O sorrow is immingled here, 
 1'^ But still, in erery bitter cup 
 
 Is found the sweet ingredient, hope : 
 Who deepest drinks shall find it there. 
 
 Shall find it when he needs it most ; 
 
 For when the night doth darkest grow, 
 
 Darkness aboye, all dark below, 
 And faith and hope are all but lost, 
 
 How oft a gleam of glory sent 
 
 Straight through the deepest, darkest night, 
 Has filled the soul with heavenly light, 
 
 With holy peace and sweet content ! 
 
 Content to wait the will of God, 
 To cast on Him the heavy load. 
 To walk with Him the weary road 
 
 With patience, leaning on the Lord. 
 
 Content to sutler and be still, 
 
 Without complaining bear the cross, 
 
 -Eft 
 
"rij. 
 
 ''SORROWING YET rejoicing:' IQI 
 
 Endure the jjain, accej^t the loss, 
 Of all earth's treasures, if God will. 
 
 Content to learn by suffering long. 
 
 In darkness still to keep the faith ; 
 
 Still trusting what the Saviour saith. 
 That pei'fect weakness may be strong. 
 
 Content to follow where He trod, 
 The Man of griefs who came to lead, 
 Themselves, like Him, all perfected 
 
 Through suffering, many sons to God. 
 
 Yes ! there was one, and only one, 
 
 Unmingled cup of bitterness ; 
 
 But God, who pitied our distress, 
 Gave it to His beloved Son. 
 
 He drank it with the bitter cry, 
 " O Father ! if it so may be, 
 I pray Thee let it pass from Me ; 
 
 Yet be it as Thou wilt, not I." 
 
 Hadst thou, my soul, been there alone. 
 Thou couldst not, if, like Him oppressed, 
 That cup liad to thy lips been pressed, 
 
 Have said with Ilim, " Thy will be done !'' 
 
102 '' SOJiEOWIXc? YET EEJOICiyQ: 
 
 Yet from tlmt cup all sweetness flows, 
 
 All joy of life, all hope of lietwen, 
 
 All graee and eonsolation oiyon 
 To sulierers in a Avorld of wees. 
 
 Yes ! and to Ilim who drank that cup 
 In meek submission, though untold 
 Its agony ; who can unfold 
 
 Its sweetness now, as lifted up 
 
 Far above powers of Earth or Heaven^ 
 lie sees the fruit His angiLsh bore ; 
 [ He sees the world all dead before, 
 
 I Live in the life He thus hath given ? 
 
 I And ever as the ages glide 
 
 I His tide of joy shall onward roll, 
 
 \ Till He the travail of His soul 
 
 ^ Shall see, and shall be satisfied. I 
 
 So every bitter cup of woe 
 
 Shall yield a blessing at the last, 
 And when the bitterness is past, 
 
 With living sweetness overflow. 
 
 
 n. N. a 
 
-»+ 
 
 WAITING FOR SPRING. 103 
 
 WAITING FOR SPRING. 
 
 mAITI^^G for Spring ! Tlie motlier, v/atcliiag 
 T T lonely 
 
 By lier sick child when all the night is dumb, 
 Hearing no sound save his hoarse breathing only, 
 Saith, " He will rally when the Sf)ring-day8 
 come." 
 
 Waiting for Spring ! Ah, me, all nature tarries 
 As motionless and cold she lies asleep, 
 
 Wrapt in her green pine robe that never varies, 
 Wearing out Winter by this southern deep. 
 
 The tints are too unbroken on the bosom 
 
 Of those great woods ; we want some light- 
 green shoots ; 
 
 We want the white and red acacia blossom, 
 The blue life hid in all these russet roots. 
 
 Waiting for Spring ! The hearts of men are 
 watching 
 
 Each for some better, brighter, fairer thing ! 
 Each car a distant sou:id most svrcet is catching, 
 
 A herald of the beauty of his spring. 
 
 Waiting for Spring ! The nations in their anger 
 Or deadlier torpor wraj)t, look onward, still 
 
 r-ln- 
 

 ::l 
 
 104 WAITJiVG FOE SPJ2/^''G. 
 
 Feel a far liope tlirougli all their strife and languor; 
 And better spirits in them throb and thrill. 
 
 Waiting for Spring I Christians are waiting ever. 
 Body and soul by sin and pain bowed down ; 
 
 Look for the time when all these clouds shall sever, 
 See high above the cross a flowery crown. 
 
 Waiting for Spring ! Poor hearts ! how oft ye 
 Aveary 
 
 Looking for better things, and grieving much 1 
 Earth lieth still, though all her bowers be dreary ; 
 
 She trusts her God, nor thrills but at His touch. 
 
 It must be so — the man, the soul, the nation, 
 The mother by her child — we wait, we wait, 
 
 Dreaming out futures ; life is expectation, 
 A grub, a root that holds our higher state. 
 
 Waiting for Spring— the germ for its iDcrfection, 
 Earth for all charms by light and color given, 
 
 The body for its robe of resurrection, 
 
 Souls for their Saviour, Christians for our Heaven. 
 Cecil Francis Alexander, 
 
_+j — L^ 
 
 WAITING FOR CHRIST, \{)[ 
 
 WAITING FOR CHRIST. 
 
 "ITTE wait for Thee, all glorious One I 
 T T We look for Thine appearing ; 
 We bear Thy name, and on the throne 
 We see Thy presence cheering. 
 Faith even now 
 Uplifts its brow, 
 And sees the Lord descending, 
 And with Him bliss miending. 
 
 We wait for Thee through days forlorn, 
 
 In patient self-denial ; 
 We know that Tliou our guilt hath borne 
 Uf)on Thy cross of trial. 
 And well may we 
 Submit with Thee 
 To bear the cross and love it, 
 Until Thy hand remove it. 
 
 We wait for Thee ; already Thou 
 Ilast all our hearts' submission ; 
 And though the spirit sees Thee now, 
 We long I'jr .)pen vision ; 
 When ours shall Ije 
 Sweet rest with Thee 
 And pure, unfading pleasure, 
 And life in endless measure. 
 
 +ll r FJ- 
 
T'^f 
 
 106 ^^ ^^^ ^^^ REST. 
 
 "We wait for Thee with certain hope — 
 
 The time will soon be over ; 
 With childish longing we look up 
 Thy glory to discoYcr. 
 O bliss I to share 
 Thy triumph there, 
 When home, with joy and singing. 
 The Lord his saints is bringing. 
 
 rROM THE GERMAN OF nU^LER, 
 
 h 
 
 TRUST AND REST. 
 
 FRET not, poor soul ; while doubt and fear 
 Disturb thy breast, 
 The pitying angels, who can see 
 How yain thy wild regret must be, 
 Say, Trust and rest. 
 
 Plan not, nor scheme, but calmly wait ; 
 
 His choice is best ; 
 While blind and emng is thy sight, 
 His wisdom sees and judges right, 
 
 So trust and rest. 
 
 Strive not, nor struggle ; thy poor might 
 
 Can never wrest 
 The meanest thing to serve thy will ; 
 All power is His alone ; be still, 
 
 And trust and rest. 
 

 THE HO USE OF GOD. ] Q Y 
 
 Desire uot ; self-love is strong 
 
 Within thy breast ; 
 And yet He loves thee better still, 
 So let Him do His loving* will, 
 
 And trust and rest. 
 
 What dost thou fear ? His wisdom reigns 
 
 Supreme, confessed ; 
 His power is infinite ; His love 
 Thy deepest, fondest dreams above. 
 
 So trust and rest. 
 
 '77IE HOUSE OF GOD. 
 
 NCE slow and sad the evening fell 
 
 On desert path, on lonely dell. 
 As, sad and desolate, 
 One laid him down to sleep alone, 
 His couch the sand, his pillow stone. 
 The morning-tide to wait. 
 
 But gleamed before his dazzled sight 
 A radiance more than morning light, 
 
 From opened portals given ; 
 And on his charmed ear there rung • 
 A sound more sweet than matin song— 
 
 The choral hymns of Heaven. 
 
% 
 
 108 
 
 TffE HOUSE OF GOD. 
 
 He saw the glory of that place. 
 Whose light is God the Saviour's face, 
 
 He saw its dwellers fair ; 
 And learnt that— desolate, alone, •* 
 
 A wanderer from his Father's home,— 
 
 God's presence still was there. 
 
 So we (though often worn, oppressed, 
 We wander, seeking home and rest) 
 
 In sorrow's darkest hour 
 May see, as Jacob saw of old, 
 God's sunbeams bright and mauifold, 
 
 The shades of night o'erpower. 
 
 • 
 For not in temple hoar alone. 
 In cloistered shade, 'neath sculptured stone, 
 
 Stands now God's house below ; 
 But whensoe'er His radiance l.^right 
 Gleams on our darkness and 'tis light, 
 
 His j)resence we may know. 
 
 Transfigured in His Gloi7,fair 
 
 The Avhole earth stands, one house of prayer- 
 One ante-room of Heaven ; 
 
 Fo^- surely, though we know it not, 
 
 God's presence is in every spot, 
 To those who seek it given. 
 
I THE JUDGMENT-SPJAT. IQO 
 
 Then let us striye, and work, and wait, 
 A.S tliose who see that opened gate — 
 
 That gh)ry in our night ; 
 So that at last, through Clirist the way, 
 We, too, may tread that land of day, 
 
 Where God, the Lord, is light. 
 
 L. R. 
 
 THE CHILD ON THE JUDGMENT-SEAT. 
 
 TI^HERE hast been toiling all day, sweet-heart, 
 T T That thy brow is burdened and sad ? 
 The Master's work may make weary feet, 
 But it leaves the S2)irit glad. 
 
 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 fuU of care ? 
 
 " IsTo 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. 
 10 
 
 n 
 
I 
 
 h 
 
 110 ^^^^ JUnCUrENT-SEA T. 
 
 " I climbed on the judgment-seat myself, 
 
 I have sate there alone all day, 
 For it grieved me to see the children around 
 
 Id Hng their life away. 
 
 " They wasted the Master's precious seed, 
 
 They wasted the precious houni ; 
 They trained. not the vines, nor gathered the fruits, 
 
 And they trampled the sweet, meek flowers.-' 
 
 And what hast thou done on the judgment-seat, 
 Sweet-heart ? What didst thou there ? 
 
 Would the idlers heed thy childisli voice ? 
 Did the garden mend by tliy care ? 
 
 " Nay, that gncved mc more ! I called and I cried 
 
 But they left me there forlorn ; 
 My voice vras w'eak, and they heeded not, 
 
 Or they laughed my words to scorn." 
 
 Ah, the judgment-seat was not for thee I 
 
 The servants were not thine ! 
 And the eyes which adjudge the ^Draise and the 
 blame, 
 
 See further than thine or mine. 
 
 The Voice that shall sound there at eve, sweet- 
 heart, 
 Will not raise its tones to be heard. 
 
-tF~ ^ 
 
 ■ THE JUDGMENT-SEAT. l\\ ^ 
 
 It will liush the earth, and hush the hearts, 
 And none will resist its word. 
 
 " Should I seo tlie Master's treasures lost, 
 
 Tlie stores that should feed His poor, 
 And not lift my voice, be it weak as it may, 
 
 And not be grieved sore ?" 
 
 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 train^jd thy vines, 
 And kept them from careless feet ? 
 
 " Nay, that is saddest of all to me ! 
 
 That is saddest of all ! 
 My vines are trailing, my roses are parched, 
 
 My lilies droop and fall." 
 
 Go back to thy garden-plot, sweet heart I 
 
 Go back till the evening falls ! 
 And bind thy lilies, and train thy vines, 
 
 Till for thee the Master calls. 
 
 n . 
 
 J 
 
J- 
 
 4 
 
 112 NOW I LAY ME DO WX TO SL EEF, 
 
 Go make thy garden fair as tliou canst, 
 
 Thou Tvorkest 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 tair and sweet, 
 And when the Master comes at eve, 
 
 Happy laces His coming will greet. 
 
 Then shall thy joy be fall, sweet heart, 
 
 In the garden so foir to see, 
 fa the Master's words of praise for all. 
 
 In a look of His own for thee ! 
 
 ArTIIOR OF " THE THKEE WAKIKGS.' 
 
 XOW I LAY ME DOWN TO SLEEP. 
 
 IN" the quiet nursery chambers. 
 Snowy pillows yet unpressed. 
 See the forms of little children 
 
 Kneeling, white-robed, for their rest, 
 All in quiet nursery chambers. 
 
 While the dusky shadows creep, 
 Hear the voices of the childi'en — 
 • Now I lay me down to sleep." 
 
 
^ 
 
 I 
 
 NO W I LA Y ME DO WN TO SL EEl\ \ \ 3 
 
 In tlie meadow and the mountain 
 
 Calmly shine the winter stars, 
 But across the glistening lowlands 
 
 Slants the moonlight's silver bars 
 In the silence and the darkness, 
 
 Darkness growing still more deep, 
 Listen to the little children 
 
 Praying God their souls to keej). 
 
 " Ii we die " — so pray the children, 
 
 And the mother's head drops low ; 
 (One from out her fold is f;leeping 
 
 Deep beneath the winter's snow) ; 
 " Take our souls :" and past the casement 
 
 Flits a gleam of crystal light, .-d 
 
 Like the trailing of his garments, 
 
 "Walking eyermore in white. 
 
 Little souls that stand expectant. 
 
 Listen at the gates of life ; 
 Hearing, faraway, the murmur 
 
 Of the timiult and the strife : 
 We, who fight beneath those bannera, 
 
 Meeting ranks of foemen there, 
 Find a deeper, broader meaning 
 
 In your simple yesi^er prayer. 
 
 Wlien your hands shall grasp this standard, 
 Which to-day you wat(:h from far, 
 10* 
 
 jf" 
 
44-J 
 
 1 li THE LIGHT OF THE WORLD. 
 
 ^Vlien yonr deeds shall sliapt^ the conflict 
 
 lu tliis universal war, 
 Pray to Ilim, the God of battles, 
 
 "Whose strong eye can never slcc}), 
 In the warring of temptation, 
 
 Firm and true yonr sonls to keep. 
 
 When the combat ends, and slowly 
 
 Gleai-3 the smoke from out the skies, 
 Then, far doT^-u the pui-ple distance, 
 
 All the noise of battle dies. 
 When the last night's solemn shadows 
 
 Settle dov.'n on yon and me. 
 May the love that never failcth 
 
 Take our souls eternally. 
 
 % 
 
 T. 
 
 THE LIGHT OF THE WORLD. 
 
 PAINTED BY HOLMAN HUNT. 
 
 N the moonlight, when no murmur from the 
 
 haunts of men is heard. 
 And the river in its sleej) flows onward, onward 
 
 to the sea, 
 And thou sleepest, who art drawing nearer to 
 
 Eternity, 
 In the silence and the stillness comes the Word« 
 
THE LIGHT OP THE WORLD. 
 
 AncI He knocketh at thy portal, but thou dream- 
 
 e.sfc in tlie night 
 That the flitting bat is onh^ stnking soitly 'gainst 
 
 the door ; 
 Shall He knock so oft who cometh from the Heav 
 
 en's ctcmal shore ? 
 Sleeper in the darkness, rise, behohl thy Light ! 
 
 'Tis thy Priest and Prophet, clad in jewelled rolio 
 white attire ; 
 
 ^is thy King, and on His brow He wears the 
 thorny coronal. 
 
 Budding now with amaranthine leaves and flow- 
 ers ambrosial, 
 
 In His face is speaking pity, silent ire. 
 
 For His glowing lamp discloseth, choking up thy 
 
 dwelling door. 
 Deadly hemlock, barren darnel, prickly bramble, 
 
 withered grasses, 
 And the ivy knits it closely to its stanchions and 
 
 passes 
 Tlirough the crevices, and hinges, and the floor. 
 
 Let Him in ! for He will sojourn with the lowest 
 
 and tlie least. 
 And forget that thou didst keep Him waiting in 
 
 the dews t.nd damp, 
 
 H- » rn- 
 
■4^ ' — ^ 
 
 116 THE LIGHT OF THE WOULD. ^ 
 
 And for guerdon in the Yallcy He will liglit tliea 
 
 with His lamp 
 
 To the haj^py Shore Eternal and the Mamage 
 
 Feast. 
 
 B. A., Brasenose College^ Oxford. 
 
 TI. 
 
 THE LIGHT OF THE WORLD. 
 
 LORD, Thou hast sought this wayward heart in 
 Tain ; 
 
 Choked by the world's vile weeds its portals 
 stand, 
 
 Closed to the touch of Thy redeeming Hand, 
 ^Vhich, knocldng gently, would an entrance gain ; 
 Oh, Love unspeakable ! that Thou shouldst be 
 
 Patient amidst the night's chill falling dews, 
 
 While I Thy proffered fellowship refuse, 
 tSlothful to rise and ope the door to Thee ! 
 Long have I tarried, dreading yet to bear 
 
 The emblems of Thy suffering, thorns and cross ; 
 
 Lost in idolatry of Mammon's dross. 
 And lured by pleasure's transitory glare ; 
 Henceforth vouchsafe to shed Thy light within. 
 
 Illume my soul, and let these contrite tears 
 
 Blot out all record of my mis-spent yeai"s, 
 Dark with the sad remembrances of sin ; 
 Then, in this purified, repentant breast. 
 Enter, and be for evermore my Guest ! 
 
 W. R. WEALK. 
 
 "T^— 
 
E 
 
 TIE LEAPS us ON. lyi 
 
 HE LEADS US OiV. 
 
 [J E leads us on, 
 
 By paths we did not know, 
 Upward He leads us, thougli our stex)s be slow, 
 Thougli oft we faint and falter on the way. 
 Though storais and darkness oft obscure the day, 
 Yet when the clouds are gone 
 We know He leads us on. 
 
 He leads us on 
 Through all the unquiet years ; 
 Past all our dreamland hopes, and doubts, ant.l 
 
 fears 
 He guides our steps. Through all the tangled 
 
 maze 
 Of sin, of sorrow, and o'erclouded days 
 
 ^V^i know His will is done ; 
 
 And still He leads us on. 
 
 And He, at last. 
 After the weary strife — 
 After the restless feyer we call life — 
 After the di'eariness, the aching pain, 
 1'he wayward struggles which have i^roved in vain, 
 
 After our toils are j^ast — 
 
 Will ^Tve us rest at last. 
 
 ^ 
 
 u&Km ham 
 
I- J., I 
 
 -JL 
 
 I 18 J^OLY GHOST DISPEL OUR SADNESS. 
 
 ■i A y" 
 
 HOLY GHOST DISPEL OUR SADNESS. 
 
 HOLY GHOST, dispel our sadness, 
 Pierce the clouds of sinful night ; 
 Come, Thou source of sweetest gladness, 
 
 Breathe Thy Life, and spread Thy Light ! 
 Loving Spirit, God of Peace ! 
 Great Distributor of grace ! 
 Rest upon this congregation, 
 Hear, O hear our supplication ! 
 
 From that height which knovs no measure, 
 
 As a gracious shower descend 
 Bringing down the richest treasure 
 
 Men can wish, or God can send ! 
 O Tliou Glory, shining down 
 From the Father and the Son, 
 
 Grant us Thy illumination ! 
 
 Rest upon this congregation ! 
 
 Known to Thee are all recesses 
 
 Of the earth and spreading skies ; 
 Every sand the shore possesses 
 
 Thy Omniscient Mind descries. 
 Holy Fountain ! wash us clean 
 Both from error and from sin ! 
 
 Make us fly what Thou rel'usc-st. 
 
 And delia"ht in what Thou clioosesti 
 
 r'' 
 
 d 
 
 ^ 
 
j 
 
 J 
 
 «» Li 
 
 ■ — L 
 
 ON AFFLICTION, 119 
 
 Manifest Tliy love forever ; 
 
 Fence us in on every side ; 
 In distress be our Reliever, 
 
 Guard and teacL, support and guide ! 
 Let Thy kind effectual grace 
 Turn our feet from evil ways ; 
 
 Sliow Thyself our new Creator, 
 
 And conform us t j Thy nature ! 
 
 Be our Friend on each occasion, 
 
 God ! omnipotent to save ! 
 When we die, be our salvation ; 
 
 When we're buried, be our grave ! 
 And, when from the grave we rise, 
 Take us up above the skies, 
 
 Seat us with thy saints in glory. 
 
 There forever to adore Tliee ! 
 
 FROM THE GERMAN BY TOPI AD Y. 
 
 ON AFFLICTION. 
 
 i S the liaqD-strings only render 
 i.1. All their treasures of sweet sound- 
 All their music, glad or tender — 
 Firmly struck and tightly bound : 
 
 So the hearts of Christians owe 
 Each ito deepest, sweetest strain, 
 
JJ L^ 
 
 ■—^ 120 TRUST. ^ 
 
 To the pressure firm ot* woe, 
 And tlie tension tight of pain 
 
 Spices crushed theii, pungence yield ; 
 
 Trodden scents their sweets respire ; 
 Would you have its strength revealed, 
 
 Cast the incense in the fire : 
 
 Thus the crushed and broken frame 
 
 Oft doth sweetest graces yield ; 
 And through sufiering, toil, and shamn. 
 From the martyr's keenest flame, 
 
 Heavenly incense is distilled. 
 
 ADAM, OF ST. VICTOR. 
 
 "*l:i 
 
 T R U S T. 
 
 THE child leans on its parent's breast, 
 Leaves there its cares, and is at rest ; 
 The bird sits singing by its nest. 
 
 And tells aloud 
 His trust in God, and so is blest 
 'Neath every cloud. 
 
 He hath no store, he sows no seed. 
 Yet sings aloud, and doth not need ; 
 By flowing streams or grassy mead, 
 
 He sings to shame 
 Men, who forget, in fear of need, 
 
 A Father's name. 
 
tmmmmmm'm 
 
 SlTBJf/SSIOK 121 
 
 The heart that trusts forever sings, 
 And feels as light as it had wings ; 
 A well of peace within it sj)ring3 ; 
 
 Come good or ill, 
 Whate'er to-day, to-morrow brings, 
 
 It is His will ! 
 
 ISAAC WILLIAMS 
 
 SUB 3IIS SIOK. 
 
 SINCE thy Father's arm sustains thee, 
 Peaceful be ; 
 When a chastening hand restrains thee, 
 
 It is He ! 
 Know His love in full completeness, 
 Feel the measure of thy weakness ; 
 If He wound thy sx)irit sore, 
 
 Ti-ust Him more. 
 
 Without murmur, uncomplaining. 
 In His hand 
 Leave whatever things thou canst not 
 
 Understand ; 
 Though the world thy folly spurueth. 
 From thy faith in i^ity turneth, 
 Peace thy inmost soul shall fill. 
 
 Lying still. 
 

 122 SUBMISSION. 
 
 ■+11 
 
 Like an infant, if thou tliinkest 
 
 Thou canst stand, 
 Childlike, proudly pushing back 
 
 The proffered hand ; 
 Courage soon is changed to fear, 
 Strength doth feebleness appear ; 
 In His love if thou abide, 
 
 He will guide. 
 
 Fearest sometimes that thy Father 
 Hath forgot ? 
 
 Though the clouds around thee gather, 
 Doubt Him not ! 
 
 Always hath the daylight broken, 
 
 Always hath He comfort spoken ; 
 
 Better hath He been for years 
 
 Than thy fears. 
 
 Therefore, whatsoe'er betideth. 
 Night or day, 
 
 Know His love for thee provideth 
 Good alway : 
 
 Crown of sorrows gladly take, 
 
 Grateful wear it, for His sake ; 
 
 Sweetly bending to His will, 
 Lying still. 
 
 To His own thy Saviour giveth 
 Daily sti'ength 
 
 ' ■■■" ■ I ■'■ ' «*■**■*—— iT'«r~fM»g^iTrT-' 
 
 ___j~ 
 
IS THIS ALL? .123 
 
 To each troubled soul that liveth 
 Petice at length : 
 
 "Weakest lambs have largest share 
 
 Of the tender Shepherd's care ; 
 
 Ask Him not, then, " Vv^hen V or " How V 
 Only bow ! 
 
 S. D. CARTER 
 
 IS THIS ALL? 
 
 OOMETIAIES I catch sioeet glimjyses of His face^ 
 
 But that is all. 
 Sometimes He loolcs on me and seems to snuiCy 
 
 Hut that is all. 
 Sometimes he spealcs a 2>assing loord of peace^ 
 
 But that is all. 
 Sometimes I thinh L hear His loving 'voice 
 
 Upon me call. 
 
 And is this all He meant when thus He spoke : 
 
 " Come unto me ?'' 
 Is there no deejjer, more enduring rest, 
 
 In Him for thee ? 
 Is there no steadier light for thee in Him ? 
 
 Oh, come and see I 
 
Jj ■ du 
 
 124 IS TJU^ ALL? 
 
 Oh, come and see ! ob, look, and look again ! 
 
 All sball be rigbt ; 
 Ob, taste His love, and see tbat it is good, 
 
 Tbou cbild of nigbt. 
 Oil, trust Him, trust Him in bis grace and power, 
 
 Tben all is bright ! 
 
 In ay, do not wrong Him by tby heavy thoughts, 
 
 But love His love ! 
 Do tbou full justice to His tenderness, 
 
 His mercy prove ; 
 Take Him for what He is ; ob, take Him all, 
 
 And look above ! 
 
 Then shall thy tossing soul find anchorage 
 
 And steadfast peace ; 
 Thy love shall rest on His ; thy weary doubts 
 
 Forever cease. 
 Tby heart shall find in Him, and in His grace, 
 
 Its rest and bliss. 
 
 Clirist and His love shall be thy blessed all 
 
 For evermore ! 
 Christ and His light shall shine on all tby ways 
 
 For evermore ! 
 Chrst nnd His peace shall keep thy troubled son! 
 
 For evermore ! 
 
 BONAK- 
 
 ^ ff 
 
,tr — ^ lIj. 
 
 OFF]V TITO U OUR EYEts. \ 25 
 
 OF EN TIIOU OUR EYES. 
 
 AND He drew near and talked with them. 
 But they perceived Him not ; 
 And mourned, unconscious of that light— 
 The gloom, the darkness, and the night, 
 That wrapt His buiTlal spot. 
 
 Wearied with doubt, perplexed and sad, 
 They knew nor help, nor guide, 
 
 Wliile He who bore the secret key 
 
 To open eveiy mystery. 
 
 Unknown was by their side. 
 
 Thus often when we feel alone, 
 
 No help nor comfort near, 
 *Tis only that our eyes are dim ; 
 Doubting and sad, we see not Him 
 
 Who waiteth still to heai*. 
 
 " The darkness gathers overhead. 
 
 The mom will never come !" 
 Did we but raise our downcast eyea, 
 In the wide-flushing eastern skies 
 
 Appears the glowing sun. 
 
 In all our daily joys and griefs 
 lu daily work and rest, 
 11* 
 
^ . — ^ 
 
 f 12G SHADOWS OF THE PAST. 
 
 To those who seek Him, Christ is near, 
 Our bliss to calm, to soothe our care, 
 In leaning on our breast. 
 
 Open our eyes, O Lord, we pray. 
 
 To see our way, our Guide ; 
 That by the path that here we tread. 
 We, following on, may still be led 
 
 In Thy light to abide. l. R. 
 
 '' 
 
 SHADOWS OF THE PAST. 
 
 y ORD,while the shadows of the past surveying- 
 J J And they are many since life's early mom : 
 Life's shadowy days have had a long delaying. 
 It matters not, since they are past and gone — 
 
 Are past and gone. 
 
 I find my steps are upward slowly tending. 
 That falls the glory of thy smile upon 
 
 Tlie golden flights of steps to heaven ascending, 
 And T am journeying slowly toward the dawn-- 
 
 Toward the dawn. 
 
 I find my future in this world of sorrows 
 Answers my prayers, and golden visions ope 
 
 Of providences in the bright to-morrows, 
 Fulfilling prayer ; this is my only hope — 
 
 My only hope. 
 
 
^>~* wiiiii»«nMw«m 
 
 A PEAYEE FOR YOU. 
 
 Tins j»leasing hope my weary heart inspires, 
 For I have prayed, and in Thy Word 'tis writ 
 
 That they who to give Thee their warm desires, 
 Shall walk the ways that they to Thee commit- 
 To Thee commit. 
 
 .i P R A YER F R Y U. 
 
 a 
 
 1 
 
 I HAVE a Siiviom-— He's pleading in glory- 
 So precious, though earthly enjoyments be few : 
 And now He's watching in tenderness o'er me ; 1 } 
 
 But, oh, that my Saviour was your Saviour too ! 
 For you I am praying— I'm praying for you ! 
 
 I have a Father— to me He has eiven 
 
 A hope for eternity, precious and true ; 
 And soon will my spirit be with Him in heaven ; 
 
 But, oh, that He'd let me bring you with me too ! 
 
 For you I am praying— I'm praying for you ! 
 
 I have a Crown, and I'll wear it forever, 
 
 Encircled with jewels of heavenly hue ; 
 'Twas purchased by Jesus, my glorified Saviour ; 
 
 But. oh, could I know one was purchased for 
 you ! 
 
 For you I am praying— I'm praying for you ! 
 
 t have a Robe— 'tis resj^lendent in whiteness — 
 
 Awaiting in glory my wondering view ; 
 Oh, when I'll receive it, all shining in brightness, 
 
rfJ- — T^ 
 
 123 A PRAYER FOR YOU. 
 
 "qn. 
 
 Dear fiiend, could I see you receiving one too I 
 For you I am praying — I'm praying for you ! 
 
 I have a Rest— and the earnest is given — 
 Though now, for a time, 'tis concealed from my 
 view ; 
 This life everlasting, 'tis Jesus, 'tis heaven ; 
 And, oh, dearest friend, let me meet you there 
 
 too! 
 For you I am praying — I'm praying for you ! 
 
 I have a Peace, and it's calm as a river— 
 
 A peace that the friend of the world never 
 knew ; 
 
 My Saviour alone is its Author and Giver; 
 But, oh, could I know it was given to you I 
 For you I am praying — I'm praying for you I 
 
 For you I am praying — for you I am 2)raying ! 
 For you I am praying— for you, yes, for you ! 
 
 And soon shall I hear you rejoicing and saying : 
 " Your dear, loving Saviour is my Saviom- too !'* 
 And prayer will be answered for you — yes, for 
 you! 
 
 And when He has found you, tell others the story, 
 
 How Jesus extended His mercy to you ; 
 Fhen point them away to the regions of glory, 
 
 Jm" 
 
1^ % 
 
 HEAR MY CRY! I29 ^ 
 
 And pray that your Saviour may bring them 
 
 there too I 
 For prayer will be answered— 'twas answered 
 
 for you ! 
 
 Oil, speak of that Saviour, that Father in heaven ; 
 
 That Hai^p, Crown, ana Robe which are waiting 
 
 for you ! 
 
 That Peace you possess, and that Rest to bo given ! 
 
 Still praying that Jesus may save them like you ; 
 
 And prayer will be ?.nswered~'twas answered 
 
 for you ! 
 
 Christian WitnenSi, 
 
 HEAR MY CRY! 
 
 STRONG to save and bless, 
 My rock and righteousness 
 Draw near to me ! 
 Blessing, and joy, and might, 
 Wisdom, and love, and light 
 Are all with Thee ! 
 
 My refuge and my rest, 
 As child on mother's breast, 
 
 I lean on Thee I 
 From faintness and from fear^ 
 "Wlien foes and ill arc near, 
 
 Deliver mc I 
 
 
130 
 
 HEAR MY CRY! 
 
 U 
 
 Turn not away Thy ftice. 
 Withhold not needed grace, 
 
 My Ibrtress be I 
 Perils are round and round, 
 Iniquities abound — 
 
 See, Saviour, see ! 
 
 Come, God and Saviour, come I 
 I can no more be dumb ; 
 
 Appeal I must 
 To Thee, the Gracious One, 
 Else is my hope all gone, 
 
 I sink in dust ! 
 
 Oh, answer me, my God, 
 Thy love is deep and broad, 
 
 Thy grace is true ! 
 Thousands this grace have shared 
 Oh, let me noio be heard, 
 
 Oh, love me too ! 
 
 Descend, Thou mighty love, 
 Descend from heaven above, 
 
 Fill Thou this soul ! 
 Ileal every bruised part, 
 Bind up this broken heart, 
 
 And make me whole. 
 
 T'" 
 
4 
 
 . ___ _^ 
 
 FRUITLESS TOIL. 131 
 
 'Tis knowing Thee that lieals ; 
 
 'Tis seeing Thee that seals 
 
 Comfort and peace ! 
 Show me Thy cross and blood, 
 My Saviour and my God, 
 
 Then troubles cease. bonar, 
 
 l^RUITLESS TQIL. 
 
 U T ORD, I have toiled all night, 
 1 J Ar.d still unblessed my hand ; 
 Yet I will launch into the deep 
 Once more at Thy command. 
 
 *' I hear triumphant songs 
 
 Swell from the banks around, 
 Each answeiing each with joyful cry 
 But /no spoil have found. 
 
 *' Fruitless is all my toil. 
 
 Through loag night-watches j)ast, 
 My heart is sick with hope deferred ; 
 But Thou art come at last." 
 
 The fisher's hands hung down ; 
 
 Dull was his heart, and faint, 
 When a heavenly voice the silence broke. 
 
 And answered his complaint. 
 
•*■ 132 FRTTITLESS TOIL, ^ 
 
 " Wlieii "have I left thee, son, ^ 
 
 That thou shouldst droop with fear % 
 WJien hast thou sought my sympathy, 
 And hast not found Me near ? 
 
 " Not fruitless is thy toil. 
 
 If thou my cross wouldst bear ; 
 I do but ask thy willing heart 
 To grave :ny image there. 
 
 -' For each ne"*^ vainly cast 
 
 Stronger thine arm will prove ; 
 The trial of thy patient hope 
 Is witness of Tliy love. 
 
 " The time, the place, the way 
 Are open to mine eye ; 
 I sent thee —not to gather spoil- 
 To labor patiently. 
 
 ^' My son I was not thy cry, 
 
 ' Increase my faith, O Lord ! 
 More of Thyself, and more like Thee 
 Behold, thy prayer is heard. 
 
 '* Oh. trust Me with thy crown, 
 'Tis hidden safe with Me ; 
 A little while, and where I am. 
 There shall my servant be, 
 
 ^ ■ ^ 
 
4-1 
 
 
 »~i 
 
 the: two worlds. 
 
 133 
 
 " Bright seems tlij' brother's lot ; 
 But, child, is thine so dim ? 
 TJie Klng^ tliy Friend^ hath asl^ed of thee 
 To icatch one hour with Him !" 
 
 ANNA SHIPTON. 
 
 THE TWO WORLDS. 
 
 1VN0 worlds there are. To one our eyes we strain, 
 -Wliose magic joys we shall not see again ; 
 Bright haze of morning veils its glimmering 
 shore ; 
 Ah, truly breathed we there 
 Intoxicating aii - 
 Glad were om.* heails in that swest realm of 
 Nevermore. 
 
 The lover there drank her delicious breath, 
 Whose love has yielded since to change or death ; 
 The mother kiased her child whose days aro oV;r. 
 Alas ! too soon have fled 
 Tlie iiTeclaimable dead : 
 We see them — \-isions strange — amid the 
 Nevermore. 
 
 
 The men-y t'ong some maiden used to sing — 
 The brown, brown hair that once was went to 
 cling 
 ii2 
 
 •H' 
 
 n 
 
 liy 
 
J m mmnmmmmmmammmmmieammmmBmaaaaama*samtBMsmtaamimmmammmmitmaBPammmmmuwmt\ii\ ■■-*^« 
 
 44J M 
 
 ^ 
 
 .134 TEE TWO WORLDS'. 
 
 To tem]3les long clay-cold ; to the very core 
 They strike our weary hearts, 
 As some vexed men^ory starts 
 
 From that long faded land — the realm of 
 Kevermore. 
 
 It is perpetual summer ther?. But here 
 Sadly we may remember rivers clear, 
 And harebells quivering on the meadow-floor, 
 For brighter bells and bluer, 
 For tenderer hearts and truer, 
 People that happy land — the realm of 
 Nevermore. 
 
 Upon the frontier of this shavlowy land 
 We pilgrims of eternal sorrow stand : 
 What realm lies fcfrward, with its happier stora 
 Of forests green and deeiD, 
 Of valleys hushed in sleejD, 
 And lakes most iDeaceful ? 'Tis the land of 
 Evermore. 
 
 Very iar off its marble cities seem — 
 V^ery far off — beyond our senpual dream^ 
 Its woods, unruffled by the wild winds' roar : 
 Yet does the turbulent surge 
 Howl on its very verge. 
 One moment — and we brea':he within the 
 Evermore. 
 
 ^ 
 
 
^--+ 
 
 THE TWO ANGELS. I35 
 
 They wliom we loved and lost so long ago, 
 Dwell in tliose cities, far from mortal woe — 
 Haunt those fresh woodlands, whence sweet 
 carolings soar. 
 Eternal peace have they : 
 God wipes their tears away : 
 They drink that river of life which flows for 
 Evermore. 
 
 Thither we hasten through these regions dim, 
 But lo ! the white wings of the Seraphim 
 Shine in the sunset ! On that joyous shore 
 Our lightened hearts shall know 
 The life of long ago : 
 The sorrow-burdened j)ast shall fade for 
 Evermore. 
 
 Diiblin University 3Ingazine. 
 
 THE TWO ANGELS. 
 
 ri'^WO angels, one of Life and one of Death, 
 
 X Passed o'er our village as the morning broke ; 
 
 The dawn was on their faces, and beneath 
 
 The sombre houses hearsed with plumes of 
 smoke. 
 
 Their attitude and aspect were the same ; 
 
 Alike their features, and their robes of white ; 
 
vh " nfi , 
 
 136 TITE TWO AXGELS. 
 
 But one was crowned with amaranth, aa with 
 flame, 
 And one with asphodels, like flahes of light. 
 
 I isaw them pause on their celestial way ; 
 
 Then said I, with deep fear and doubt opj)ressei, 
 " Beat not so loud, my heart, lest thou betray 
 
 The place where thy beloved are at rust I" 
 
 And he wiio wore the crown of asphodels, 
 Descending at my door, began to knock ; 
 
 And my soul sank within me, as in wells 
 The waters sink before an earthquake's shock. 
 
 I recognized the nameless agony. 
 The terror, and the tremor, and the pain, 
 
 That oft before had filled or haunted me. 
 
 And now returned with threefold strength again. 
 
 The door I opened to my heavenly guest. 
 And listened, for I thought I heard God's voice ; 
 
 A.ud, knowing whatsoe'r He sent was best, 
 Dared neither to lament nor to rejoice. 
 
 Then with a smile, that filled the house with light, 
 " My errand is not Death, but Life," he said ; 
 
 And, ere I answered, passing out of sight, 
 On his celestial embassy he sped. 
 
 ■i|i rp 
 

 •«nMMe7V9H 
 
 IS THERE NO BA Z J/ IX GILEAD ? 13? 
 
 Twas at tliy door, O friend ! and not at mine, 
 The angel with tbe amaranthine wreath, 
 
 Pausing, descended, and with voice divine, 
 
 Whispered a word that had a sound like Death. 
 
 Then fell upon the house a sudden gloom, 
 A shadow on those features fair and thin ; 
 
 And softly from that hushed and darkened room 
 Two angels issued, where but one went in. 
 
 All is of God ! If He l3ut wave His hand. 
 
 The mists collect, the rain falls thick and lou. I, 
 
 Till, with a smile of light on sea and land, 
 Lo ! He looks back from the departing cloud. 
 
 Angels of life and death alike are His ; 
 
 Without His leave they pass no thresliold o'ei 
 Who, then, would wish or dare, believing this, 
 
 Against His messengers to shut the door ? 
 
 
 IS THERE NO BALM IN GILEAD? 
 
 IS there no balm in Gilead, then? is there no 
 Healer nigh ? 
 No freshening spring to cheer the waste so deso- 
 late and dry ? 
 Hath Hope's dear vision vanished forever from 
 thy sighl, 
 
 tl li 
 
 ^4i- rfr 
 
% 
 
 138 ^S TWERE FO BALM JN GILEAD f 
 
 And darkness fallen around thee, the Tcry gloom 
 
 of night ? 
 And seems thy soul forsaken, her every blessing 
 
 flo^-n ? 
 No soothing for her sorrow, and nowhere to make 
 
 her moan ? 
 Yet stay ; the cross thou bearest thus hath first 
 
 been borne for thee, 
 Jesus Himself did hang thereon, thy life and cure 
 
 to be. 
 
 For thine own ease He bare it all, — the scourge 
 
 and piercing thorn, 
 The nailing and the bruising, the denial, shame, 
 
 and scorn ; 
 Darkness and desolation deep, and pangs beyond 
 
 thy thought, 
 And all for thy soul's healing these sad agonies 
 
 were wrought. 
 Upon His Cross He yearned for thee, for thee His 
 
 heartstrings brake ; 
 Himself of all forsaken, He could not thee forsake ; 
 Then evermore, when chastenings sore thine inmost 
 
 spirit wring, 
 Say, My Belov'd is crucified, and I to Him will cling. 
 
 How shall I sing Thy holy love, dear Passion of 
 
 my Lord ? 
 Or how Thy mystic virtue shall I worthily recoixi 2 
 
 ■Ph rr 
 
 f- 
 

 13 THERE NO JALM IN 3 HEAD ? \ 39 
 
 Thou art the spring of all our hope, the balsam 
 
 of our woes, 
 The solace of our yearnings, and the bower of 
 
 our repose, 
 True Paradise of all delights, since joy of grief 
 
 is born ; 
 For, as the flowers but close at night to ope more 
 
 fresh with morn. 
 So He who wept and bled for us, and bowed in 
 
 earthly gloom, 
 Now makes those sorrows our bright bliss, those 
 
 wounds our joyous home. 
 
 Here is a covert from the storm, when winds and 
 
 waves arise, 
 A shadow in the scorching noon, a light in star- 
 less skies ; 
 A staff upon the mggcd road, a shield when foes 
 
 assail, 
 A chann Divine, against whose might no evil can 
 
 prevail ; 
 For where the Cross of Jesus is, is peace, and 
 
 there alone. 
 And 'neath that banner of His love He g'lthereth 
 
 His own ; 
 And those who will be Christ's must not e'er 
 
 grudge their portion small. 
 Who in His bitter 'chalice, once, and for Hice, 
 
 drained it all. 
 
 •flx r 
 
 f 
 
tJ 
 
 J, 
 
 140 IS TIIEBE KO BM.J AV GJLEADf 
 
 Tliou know'st He went not up to joy, but first 
 
 Pie suffered pain, 
 And all the self-same jDatli must tread who thus 
 
 His bliss would gain : 
 Is aught too wearisome or hard for Jesus' sake to 
 
 bear? 
 ^Yhile He is crowned with thorns wilt thou a 
 
 crown of roses wear ? 
 Lo ! this good Cross He offers thee ; it is thy very 
 
 life ; 
 Anoint with holy unction, it will aid thee in the 
 
 strife ; 
 *Tis hallowed by thy Saviour's touch, who hung 
 
 on it for thee, 
 And Love's sweet night shall make it light, and 
 
 win the victory. 
 
 Draw near, thou reft and drooping heart, draw 
 near and lift thy gaze 
 
 To Him who yearns with outstretched arms theo 
 from thy grief to raise ; 
 
 Draw near, and, clinging close beneath thy Sa- 
 viour's bleeding heart, 
 
 Tell o'er each throb of that deep woe in which 
 thou hast a part ; 
 
 Tell o'er each drop of dear iife-blood. which ebbs 
 for thee so fast, 
 
 And all thy weaiy heart-aching upon that true 
 
 love cast : 
 
f ■ t 
 
 r 1 '■ I I 
 
 GHBISTS GALL TO THE SOUL. 141 
 
 In Jesus' Cross and Passion is tlie medicine of thy 
 
 soul, 
 Tea, there is balm in Gileacl, and a Healer to make 
 
 thee whole. 
 
 C. SELLON. 
 
 CHRIST'S CALL TO THE SOUL. 
 
 FAIR soul, created in the primal hour. 
 Once pure and grand. 
 And for whose sake I left My throne and power 
 
 At God's right hand ; 
 By this sad heart pierced through because I loved 
 
 thee ; 
 Let love and mercy to contrition move thee. 
 
 Cast off the sins thy holy beauty veiling, 
 
 Spirit divine ! 
 Vain against thee the hosts of hell assailing, 
 
 My strength is thine ! 
 Drink from My side the cup of life immortal. 
 And love shall lead the path to heaven's portal. 
 
 I for thy sake was pierced with many sorrows, 
 
 And bore the cross, 
 Yet heeded not the galling of the arrows. 
 
 The shame and loss. 
 Bo faint not, then, whate'er the burden be, 
 But bear it bravely, even to Calvary. 
 
 Savajiarola. 
 
 MVat ■■■■ 
 
 PJWUmJWJ «3' 
 
+J jj-^ 
 
 142 THEIR NAMES. 
 
 THEIR NAMES. 
 
 SWEET thouglit, my God ! that ou the palma 
 ,_ Of Thy most holy hands 
 Are graven all Thy peo2:>les' uames, 
 Though countless as the sands. 
 
 Not one too mean to have his place 
 
 Amid that record blest, 
 And if but there our names are found, 
 
 We'll share the heavenly rest. 
 
 How can we then yield to distrust, 
 
 Or think we are forgot, 
 While ever thus the care of One 
 
 Who loves and changes not ? m. c. 
 
 T W 0. 
 
 ri'^WO buds plucked from the tree, 
 X Two birdies flown from the nest, 
 Two little darlings snatched 
 
 From a fond mother's breast. 
 Two little snow-white lambs 
 
 Gone from the sheltering fold, 
 Two little narrow graves 
 
 Down in the graveyard cold 
 
 . n . rii 
 
« TUT SHIELD AND BUCKLEUr 143 
 
 Two little clrooi)ing flowers 
 
 Growing in purer air, 
 Blooming fragrant and briglit 
 
 In the Gardener's care. 
 Two little tender bii'ds 
 
 Flown far from fear and harm, 
 Two little snow-white lambs 
 
 In the Good Shepherd's arm. 
 
 Two little angels more 
 
 Singing with voices sweet, 
 Flinging their crowns of gold 
 
 Down at their Saviour's feet. 
 Free from all earthly care, 
 
 Pure from all earthly stain. 
 Oh, who could wish them back 
 
 In this drear world again % 
 
 Cliamljersi^ Journal. 
 
 "HIS TRUTH SHALL BE THY SHIJ'^ ( 
 AND BUCKLE nr^^ 
 
 WHEN my sins in aspect dread 
 Meet like waters o'er my head. 
 Seen in light of God's own face, 
 Darker for his offered grace — 
 When I sigh for healing rest, 
 By a hopeless yoke opprest, 
 
 I ♦ Psalms xci. 4. 
 
 k^ ZI ^ 
 
i44 " THY SHIELD AND BVCKLER:' 
 
 Struggling in a grasp too strong, 
 
 Borne as by a wind along — 
 
 Then, I hear that Voice from Heaven, 
 
 " Knock, and entrance shall be giyen— - 
 
 Him that comes, whoe'er he be, 
 
 I will never cast from Me !" 
 
 When / come, with trembling heart, 
 
 Will the Saviour say, " Depart ?" 
 
 Shall I find His pardon free 
 
 Is in wrath denied to me ? 
 
 Is my guilt so deep in stain 
 
 That the cleansing blood is vain ? 
 
 " Heaven and earth shall pass away, 
 
 Not My Words—" so Christ doth say : 
 
 In that hour, " His Truth shall be 
 
 Shield and buckler unto thee." 
 
 When the clouds have hid His face, 
 And His patli no more I trace, 
 And all comforts that illume 
 Life, have faded into gloom — 
 Quenched each earth-enkindled spark, 
 Can I trust Him in the dark ? 
 Will my wavering faith still liold 
 To a promise breathed of old ? 
 When I meet some foe unknown, 
 Shall I find myself alone ? 
 Soul, by faith thou walkest here : 
 
 [tfaawiwiwwB^ww'M 'i^fc'* * ' ' '* ' " ' ''"**'! ' *"*"'*"^' - * '' " '* ***' " ''* '***''''*''*''**''' ^ 
 
 rr^ 
 
njir- 1^ 
 
 *' THY SHIELD AND buckler:' 145 ^ 
 
 Tliougli nor sun nor stars appear. 
 Wait and watch throughout the night, 
 And till daybreak ask not sight! 
 All unseen, thy Heavenly Guide 
 Walks, through darkness, at thy side. 
 " Heaven and earth shall pass away, 
 Not My Words — " so Chris; fc doth say : 
 In the gloom " Hts Tkuth shall be 
 Shield and bucklpr unto thee." 
 
 In the terrors of the night, 
 In the mid-day arrows' flight, 
 When destruction wasteth near, 
 And all faces blanch with fear, 
 When a thousand round me fall, 
 Shall I trust Thee calm through all ? 
 Will this trembling spirit be 
 Kept " in perfect i)eace " by Thee ? 
 Though all stable things may end, 
 Earth and sky in tempest blend, 
 Shall I lean upon Thy breast, 
 And beneath Thy shadow rest ? 
 Wilt Thou arm my soul with power, 
 Ne'er experienced till that hour ? 
 " Heaven and earth shall pass away, 
 Not My Words — " so Christ doth say : 
 In that strait " His Truth shall be 
 Shield and buckler unto thee." 
 18 
 
 -Hi 
 
 
^t T r 
 
 14G " THY SHIELD AND BUCKLER:* 
 
 As the weary years go by, 
 
 Will my love wax cold, and die ? 
 
 If the pilgrimage be long. 
 
 Life be dark, and foes be strong, 
 
 Shall I not grow faint, and yield ? 
 
 Shall I ever v/in the field ? 
 
 How shall I endure and dare ? 
 
 How the cross in patience bear ? 
 
 How through tedious years sustain 
 
 Wavering conflict, oft in vain ? 
 
 liay, but the Unchanging Friend 
 
 " Will confirm you to the end I"' 
 
 '^ He Who hath the work begun 
 
 Ne'er will leave that work undone — " 
 
 While at God's right hand He lives, 
 
 Deathless is the life He gives, 
 
 Through ail change, and woe, and strife, 
 
 " Springing up to endless Life." 
 
 " Heaven and earth shall pass away, 
 
 Not My Wokds — " so Christ doth say : 
 
 In all years " His Truth shall be 
 
 Shield and buckler unto thee." 
 
 When I reach life's earthly bound, 
 And the shadows darken round, 
 All familiar things and dear 
 Fading fast from eye and ear, — 
 In that hour of mortal smart, 
 
 ^^ rp" 
 
■ 11 
 
 THE OTHER SIDE. 14 7 
 
 Treml^ling flesh and failing heart, 
 
 Shall I find my anchor vain, 
 
 Parting in that latest strain ? 
 
 Hear the Shepherd's voice of old, 
 
 Looking on His helpless fold, 
 
 Looking far, with gazo Divine, 
 
 Down the ages' lengthening line : 
 
 " Every feeble sheep I know : 
 
 Life eternal I bestow : 
 
 "ISTone shall pluck them from My hand." 
 
 Shall that word of promise stand ? 
 
 Or, when countless foes affright, 
 
 Closing romid in latest fight, 
 
 In that deadly hour and dim. 
 
 Shall my soul be snatched from Him ? 
 
 '' Heaven and earth shall pass away, 
 
 j^oT Mr Words — " so Christ doth say : 
 
 In death's grasp " His Truth shall be 
 
 Shield and buckler unto thee." n. a. b 
 
 THE OTHER SIDE. 
 
 1T7E dwell this side of Jordan's stream, 
 7 V Yet oft there comes a shining beam 
 
 Across from yonder shore ; 
 While visions of a holy throng, 
 And sound of liirp, and seraph song, 
 
 Seem gently wafted o'er. 
 
]4S THE OTHER SIDE. 
 
 — iff 
 LT 
 
 The otlier side ! Ah, there's the place 
 "Where saints in joy past times retrace, 
 
 And think of trials gone ; 
 The veil withdi'awn, they clearly see 
 That all on earth had need to be, 
 
 To bring them safely home. 
 
 Tlie other side ! No sin is there, 
 
 To stain the robes that blessed ones -wear, 
 
 Made white in Oesns' blood : 
 No cry of grief, no voice of woe. 
 To mar the peace their spirits know — 
 
 Their constant peace with God. 
 
 The other side ! Its shore so bright 
 Is radiant with the golden light 
 
 Of Zion's city fair ! 
 And many dear ones gone before 
 Already tread the happy shore : 
 
 I seem to see them there. 
 
 The other side ! Oh, charming sight ! 
 Upon its banks, arrayed in white, 
 
 For me a loved one waits : 
 Over the stream he calls to me, 
 Fear not — I am thy guide to be, 
 
 Uj) to the pearly gates. 
 
 ■ ri 
 
4.LJ 
 
 i {^ 
 
 I AM CHRISrs. X49 
 
 The other side ! His well-known voice, 
 And dear, bright face, will me rejoice : 
 
 We'll meet in fond embrace. 
 He'll lead me on, until we stand. 
 Each with a palm-branch in our hand, 
 
 Before the Saviour's face. 
 
 The other side ! The other side ! 
 Who v/ould not brave the swelling tide 
 
 Of earthly toil and care ; 
 To wake one day, when life is past, 
 Over the stream, at home at last. 
 
 With all the blessed ones there ! 
 
 / AM CHRIST'S, AND CHRIST IS MINI:. 
 
 LOKG- did I toil, and knew no earthly rest ; 
 Far did I rove, and found no certain home ; 
 At last I sought them in His sheltering breast 
 
 Who opes His arms, and bids the weary come. 
 With Him I found a home, a rest divine ; 
 And I since then am His, and He is mine. 
 
 Yes, He is mine ! and naught of earthly things, 
 Not all the charms of pleasure, wealth, or power, 
 
 The fame of heroes, or the pomp of kings, 
 Could tempt me to forego His love an hour : 
 
 Go, worthless world, I cry, with all that's thine I 
 
 Go ! T my Saviour's am, and He is mine. 
 1:]* 
 
 +in 
 
 f 
 
-t t r 
 
 160 I AM CHRIST'S. 
 
 The good I have is from His stores Kiipj)lied ; 
 
 The ill is only what He deems the best ; 
 £Tc for my friend, I'm rich with nanght beside, 
 
 And poor without Him, tl.ough of all possest ; 
 Changes may come ; I take, or I resign ; 
 Content while I am His, whi'e He is mine. 
 
 Whate'er may change, in Hiio no change is seen ; 
 
 A glorious sun, that wanes not nor declines ; 
 A)3ove the clouds and storms He walks serene. 
 
 And sweetly on His peoples' darkness shines : 
 All may depart ; I fret not, nor repine. 
 While I my Saviour's am, while He is mine. 
 
 He stays me falling, lifts me up when down. 
 Reclaims me wandering, guards from evei'y fc)e, 
 
 Plants on my worthless brow the victor's crown, 
 ^Vhicll, in return, before His feet I throw ; 
 
 Grieved that I cannot better grace His shrine 
 
 Who deigns to own me His, as He is mine. 
 
 While here, alas ! I know but half His love, 
 But half discern Him, and but half adore ; 
 
 But vviien I meet Him in the realms above, 
 I hope to love Hira better, praise Him more ; 
 
 And feel, and tell, amid the choir divine, 
 
 llovf fully I am His, and He is mine. 
 
 HENKY FKANCIS LTTE. 
 
 -*li \ rf+ 
 

 SATIUFIED. ISI 
 
 "Tif. 
 
 -11 
 
 /S'^1 T IS FIE D, 
 
 JESUS ! Friend imfailing, 
 How dear art Thou to me ! 
 Are cares or fears assailing ? 
 
 I find my strength in Thea ! 
 AVhy should my feet grow weary 
 
 Of this my jDilgrim way ? 
 Rough though the path, and dreary, 
 It ends in perfect day. 
 
 Naught, naught I count as treasure, 
 
 Compared, O Christ, with Thee ! 
 Thy sorrow without measure 
 
 Earned peace and joy for me. 
 1 love to own. Lord Jesus ! 
 
 Thy claims o'er me and mine : 
 Bought with Thy blood most precious, 
 
 Whose can I be but Thine ? 
 
 What fills my soul with gladness ? 
 
 'Tis Thine abounding grace ! 
 Where can T look in sadness. 
 
 But, Jesus, on Thy face ? 
 My all is Thy providing ; 
 
 Thy love can ne'er grow cold ; 
 In Thee, my Refuge, hiding, 
 
 No good wilt Thju withhold I 
 
 J M ^ 
 
-L±J L±4. 
 
 •"^ 152 SATISFIED. ^ 
 
 "W^liy should I droop in sorrow ? 
 
 Thou'rt eyer by my side : 
 Why, trembling, dread the morrow ? 
 
 What ill can e'er betide ? 
 If I my Cross iiave taken, 
 
 'Tis but to follow Thee ; 
 If scorned, despised, forsaken, 
 
 Naught severs Thee from me : 
 
 Oh, worldly x^omp and glory ! 
 
 Your charms are spread in yain f 
 r ve heard a sweeter story, 
 
 I've found a truer gain ! 
 Where Christ a place prepareth, 
 
 There is my loved abode ; 
 There shall I gaze on Jesus, 
 
 There shall I dwell with God t 
 
 For every tribulation. 
 
 For every sore distress. 
 In Christ I've full salvation, 
 
 Sure help, and quiet rest. 
 No fear of foes prevailing ! 
 
 I triumph, Lord, in Thee ! 
 O Jesus ! Friend unfailing ! 
 
 How dear art Thou to me ! 
 
 Berlin Gesang'fK-tc/l 
 
 - tt _ 
 
 JT"!** 
 
4 
 
 L Li. 
 
 LT 
 
 TIIF DA r GF BEST. 153 
 
 THE DA Y OF REST. 
 
 ODAY most calm, most bright, 
 The frait of this, the aext world's bud, 
 The endorsement of supreme delight, 
 Writ by ti Friend, and with His blood ; 
 The couch of time, care's balm and bay : 
 The week were dark but for Thy light, 
 Thy torch doth show the way. 
 
 The other days and thou 
 Make up one man, whose face Thou art, 
 Knocking at Heaven with thy brow ; 
 The worky-days are the back j)art ; 
 The burden of the week lies there, 
 Making the whole to stoop and bow, 
 
 Till thy release appear. 
 
 Man had straightforward gone 
 To endless death ; but thou dost pull 
 And turn us round to look on One, 
 Whom, if we were not very dull. 
 We could not choose but look on still ; 
 Since there is no place so alone, 
 
 The which He doth not fill. 
 
 Sundays the pillars are 
 On which Heaven's palace arched lies ; 
 
 Ml 
 
 ij 
 
-I r 
 
 154 THE DA Y OF REST. 
 
 h 
 
 The other days fill up the spare 
 And hollow room, with vanities. 
 They arc the fruitful beds and borders, 
 In God's rich garden, that is bare. 
 
 Which parts their ranks and orders. 
 
 The Sundays of man's life, 
 Threaded together on time's string, 
 Make bracelets to adorn the wife 
 Of the eternal, glorious King. 
 On Sunday Heaven's gate stands ope ; 
 Blessings are plentiful and rife — 
 
 More plentiful than hope. 
 
 This day my Saviour rose. 
 And did enclose tins light for His ; 
 That, as each beast His manger knows, 
 Man might not of his fodder miss. 
 Christ hath took in this piece of ground, 
 And made a garden there for those 
 
 Who want herbs for their wound. 
 
 The rest of our creation 
 Our great Redeemer did remove, 
 With the same shake, which at His Passion 
 Did the earth and all things with it move. 
 As Samson bore the doors away, 
 Christ's hands,though nailed, wrought our salvation, 
 
 And did unhinge that day. 
 
4^ 
 
 r 
 
 THE SHULAMITE. I55 
 
 Tlie brightness of that day 
 We sullied by our foul offence ; 
 Wherefore that robe we cant away, 
 Haying a new at His expense, 
 Whoso drops of blood paid the full price 
 That was required to make us gay, 
 
 And fit for Paradise. 
 
 Tliou art a day of mirth ; 
 And where the week-days trail on ground, 
 Thy flight is higher, as thy birth ; 
 O let me take thee at the bound, 
 Groping with thee from seven to seven. 
 Till that w^e both, being tossed from earth. 
 
 Fly hand in hand to Ileayen ! 
 
 HERBEllT. 
 
 THE SHULAMITE AT THE LORD'S FEET. 
 
 POOR heart ! why throb thus wildly in my 
 breast ? 
 The more I ponder on my Master's word, 
 The more are doubts and fears within me stirr'd 
 Long as my eyes on my own weakness rest. 
 
 I to come forth I What, I ! 'Twas so He said — 
 My wav'ring steps to others must be guide, 
 My feeble arm must 'gainst the foe be tried ; 
 
 There a whole world — and here a lowly maid ! 
 
•ti 
 
 J. J ^-^ 
 
 1 5 tJ ZOVF TIIA T PASSETII KNO WLEDGB. 
 
 Ah, no, ray Lord ! and yet the call is Thine 1 
 I fipoke 'jawisely, keejDing- self in sight ; 
 I'll only look on Thy all-saving might — 
 
 Be calm, my heai-t ! for my Beloved is mine. 
 
 Yes, my Beloved is mine — what wouldst thou 
 more ? 
 
 The cause is His ! It is His work I do ! 
 
 He is ray rock, my shield and buckler too ; 
 Of strength and wisdom my unfailing store. 
 
 And I am His. Oh, heart, be faithful still ! 
 Still let Him lead me as it seems Him best I 
 With Him to combat, or with Him to rest, 
 
 March, ov encamp, according to His will. 
 
 My Friend is mine, and I forever His : 
 Himself he gave, myself to Him I give ; 
 In me He dwells— in Him alone I live : 
 
 Was ever union half so blest as this ? 
 
 L. C. C. 
 
 THE LOVE THAT PASSETH KNOWLEDGE 
 
 N 
 
 OT what I am, O Lord, but what Thou art ! 
 --^. That, that alone can be my soul's true rest ; 
 Thy love, not mine, bids fear and doubt depart, 
 And stills the tempest of my tossiug breast. 
 
,fl ' if, 
 
 f I 1 I" 
 
 Z VE TEA T PA SSETIl KNO WLED GE. 157 
 
 It is Thy perfect love that casts out fear ; 
 
 I know the voice that sj3eaks the " It is I ;" 
 And in these well-kno'.vn woi'ds of heaven h/ cheer 
 
 I hear the joy that bids each sorrow fly. 
 
 Thy name is Love ! I hear it from yon Cross ; 
 
 Thy name is Love ! I read it in yon tomb ; 
 All meaner love is perishable dross, 
 
 But this shall light me through time's thickest 
 gloom. 
 
 "Hn 
 
 It blesses now, and shall forever bless ; 
 
 It saves me now, and shall forever save ; 
 It holds me up in days of helplessness, 
 
 It bears me s-afcly o'er each swelling wave. 
 
 Girt with the love of God on every side, 
 
 Breathing that love as Heaven's own healing air, 
 
 I work or wait, still following my guide. 
 Braving each foe, escaping every snare, 
 
 'Tis what I know of Thee, my Lord and God; 
 
 That fills my soul with peace, my lips with song ; 
 Thou art my health, my joy, my staff and rod ; 
 
 Leaning on Thee, in weakness I am strong. 
 
 [ am all want and hunger ; this faint heart 
 Pines for a fullness which it finds not here ; 
 
 Dear ones are leaving, and, as they depart, 
 Make room witliin for something yet more dear, 
 U 
 
"* • p 
 
 «^ Jl 
 
 158 THE SHEEP- 2 'RA CK. 
 
 1% 
 
 More of Thyself, oh, show me hour by hour 
 More of thy glory, O my God and Lord ! 
 
 More of Thyself in all Thy grace and power, 
 More of Thy love and truth, Incarnate Word ! 
 
 BO]^fArt. 
 
 THE SHEEP-TRACK. 
 
 TWO ways : only two. One leadeth 
 Home to the land of rest, 
 And the Good Shepherd guides the flock He 
 feedeth, 
 The road He knowetli best. 
 
 The feeble lamb, within His bosom hiding, 
 
 Is precious as the strong ; 
 The sick He tends : in sweet compassion guiding 
 
 The weary one with young. 
 
 He leads them forth, He goeth out before them ; 
 
 And where the two ways meet. 
 They look to Him, whose eye is watching o'er them, 
 
 To guide their wavering feet. 
 
 They own a mark by which, the Master claims them, 
 
 Though oft the sign seems dim ; 
 And well they know the Shepherd King whc 
 names them — 
 
 They hear and follow Him. 
 
 , ll - jl 
 
 «|* Immmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmimmmmmmmmmmmmmmmwmmmmmm I JLm 
 
-I t \ 
 
 Tim SHEEP- TEA CK. 159 
 
 t 
 
 nil « h 
 
 Sweet sounds His voice. All other calls unheeding. 
 
 They watch where He may lead ; 
 And in His face of love His wishes reading, 
 
 The flock that truck will tread. 
 
 Narrow it is, and rough, and often lonely, 
 
 Upon the mountain steep : 
 There's room for Jesus, and for Jesus only, 
 
 And for His timid sheep. 
 
 Around spread flowery fields where in their blind- 
 ness 
 The careless ones would roam : 
 Sharp seems the Shepherd's rod that fa^s io kind- 
 ness 
 To bring the wanderers home. 
 
 Fierce howls the wolf, and adders creep around 
 them ; 
 
 But succor He will send ; 
 For He who in the wilderness first found them 
 
 Will keep them to the end. 
 
 Two ways : only two. The other bendeth 
 
 Down unto hell beneath ! 
 Broad is the gate, and frantic mirth ascendeth 
 
 From crowds that rush to death. 
 
 rp" 
 
GO " GOOD LORD, DELIVER US I'* 
 
 i \ t 
 
 Ifo lieavenly friend will soothe their hopeles sor* 
 
 row, 
 
 No arm their burden bear ; 
 Ko fold of rest awaits them on the morrow, 
 Ko ShejDherd King is there. 
 
 For tliem death's bondage, and a night of weeping 
 
 That hath.no dawn of day. 
 Oh, Christ ! who o'er Thy flock Thy watch art 
 keeping, 
 
 Thou art the Truth, the Way ! 
 
 ANNA SHTPTON. 
 
 ''IN ALL TIME OF OUR TRIBULATION', 
 GOOD LORD, DELIVER US!" 
 
 SAVIOUR ! by Thy sweet compassion, 
 So unmeasured, so Divine ; 
 By that bitter, l)itter Passion ; 
 
 By that crimson Cross of Thine ; 
 By the woes Thy love once tasted 
 In this sin-marred world below, 
 Succor those in tribulation, 
 Succor those in sorrow now. 
 
 Thou Who wast so sorely burdened, 
 Help the weak that are ojjpressed ; 
 
 Sanctily all earthly crosses. 
 For the coming day of rest ; 
 
 IMiflliittyiiiiiaiWMiiMriiHiMii^^ 
 
 
i 1 •- 
 
 4|i 
 
 ''GOOD LORD, DELIVER US!" Iq: 
 
 Give the meek a trustful spirit 
 
 That will always lean on Thee, 
 And in storms of deep affliction 
 
 Still Thy gracious Presence see. 
 
 Lord, Thou hast a holy purpose 
 
 In each suffering we bear ; 
 In each throe of pain and terror, 
 
 In each secret, silent tear ; 
 [n the weary days of sickness, 
 
 Famine, want, and loneliness ; 
 In our night-time of bereavement, 
 
 In our soul's Lent-bitterness. 
 
 All the needful sweet correction 
 
 Of this gentle Hand of Thine, 
 All Thy wise and careful nurture, 
 
 All Thy faultless discipline : 
 AU to purge the precious metal. 
 
 Till it will reflect Thy face ; 
 All to shape and polish jewels 
 
 Thine Own diadem to grace. 
 
 Lord, we know that we must ever 
 
 Take our cross and follow Thee 
 All along the narrow pathway, 
 
 If we would Thy glory sec. 
 14* 
 
 k 
 
-* 
 
 U 1C2 ''GOOD LORD, DELIVER [TSf 
 
 
 Then, oh, help us each to bear it, 
 By Thine own hard life of shame ; 
 
 i^ct us suffer well and meekly. 
 Let us glorify Thy name. 
 
 Cheer the weak ones who are bending 
 
 'Neath this weary burden now ; 
 Lift the pallid faces upward, 
 
 Smooth the care-worn, furrowed brow ; 
 Send a bright and hopeful message 
 
 To each tried and tempted heart. 
 That the thick and gloomy shadows 
 
 At that sunshine may depart. 
 
 Tell them Thou canst see all sorrow 
 
 In this world's rough wilderness ; 
 Tell them Thou art near to succor, 
 
 Near to comfort and to bless ; 
 Tell them of Thy Cross and Passion, 
 
 Tell them of Thy trials sore, 
 Tell them of the Angel-city 
 
 Where is joy for evermore. 
 
 ADA CAMBllIDGE. 
 
 I 
 
 •5^n rp" 
 
■& 
 
 ^ 
 
 VISITA TION OF THE SICK. 163 
 
 4^ 
 
 VISITATION OF THE SICK, 
 
 PEACE to this house ! O Thou Whose way 
 Was on the waves, Whose voice did stay 
 The wild wind's rage, come, Lord, and say. 
 Peace to this house ! 
 
 Thou, Who in pity for the weak 
 Didst quit Thy heavenly Throne to seek 
 And save the lost, come. Lord, and speak 
 Peace to this house ! 
 
 Thou, Who dost all our sorrows know, 
 And when our tears of anguish flow 
 Dost feel compassion, come, bestow 
 Peace on this house ! 
 
 Thou, Who in agony didst pray, 
 " Take, Father, take this cuj) away," 
 And then wast strengthened, come and say, 
 Peace to this house ! 
 
 O Conqueror by suffering ! 
 O mighty Victor ! glorious King ! 
 From out of pain and sorrow bring 
 Peace to this house ! 
 
 ■1+^ 
 
tJT 
 -t-j-- 
 
 104 VISITA TlOy OF THE SICK. 
 
 Tboii, Who triumphant from tlie dead 
 Thine Hands didst o'er the Apostles spread, 
 And say, " Peace to you,"^ome, and shed 
 Peace on this house ! 
 
 TJiou, Who didst on the clouds ascend, 
 And then the Holy Spirit send, 
 Send Him to comfort, and defend 
 All in this house ! 
 
 Lord, in the Sacramental food 
 Of Thine own Body and Thy Blood, 
 Peace that is felt, not understood, 
 Give to this house ! 
 
 Save, save us sinking in the deep, 
 Give ease from pain and quiet sleep, 
 And under Thy wing's shelter keep 
 All in this house ! 
 
 " Peace to this house," come, Lord, and say ; 
 Come to U3, Lord, and witli us stay ; 
 Oh, give, and never take away 
 Peace from this house ! 
 
 And when at last our fainting breath 
 On trembling lips scarce quivereth, 
 Oh, bring us through the gate of Death, 
 Lord, to Thine House 1 
 
 ri 
 
iiii 
 
 THE MYSTER Y OF CHRIST. I65 
 
 To Thine own House in Paradise, 
 To Thine own House above the skies, 
 To live the life that never dies, 
 Lord, in Thine House ! 
 
 C. WORDSWORTn. 
 
 THE MYSTERY OF CHRIST. 
 
 IMA.RVEL uight and day, and cannot cease — 
 Ask evermore, Can this thing be ? 
 Heaven brought to earth — her Maker made my 
 peace, 
 God bound, to set me free I 
 
 I cannot love Thee as I would and ought : 
 
 But, by Thy grace presenting still. 
 From all things else to Thee returns my thought, 
 
 And brings Thee back my will. 
 
 All thoughts, all searches, to this centre tend ; 
 
 All rays in this one focus meet ; 
 Here, as of old, the wise men journeying send 
 
 Their treasures at Thy feet. 
 
 There is no record, but doth hint of Thee ; 
 
 All history else were false and vain : 
 The stones Thy kingdom preach ; loosed with triis 
 key. 
 
 All hardest tliiTigs are plain. 
 
4i *■ 
 
 106 THE MYSTER Y OF CHRIST. 
 
 There is no wisdom but dotli taste of Thine ; 
 
 All lights that did Thine own forerun 
 Caught Thy prevenient gleams, as clouds Ihut 
 shine 
 
 In the unrisen sun. 
 
 The glories of earth's empires, age by age 
 
 Submitting grandly to decay, 
 Were but the' illusive dawn that did presage 
 
 Thy fixed and perfect day. 
 
 Art's beauteous dreams, the charm of thought and 
 song, 
 
 The majesty of rule and law, 
 The single mind outsoaring from the throng, 
 
 Gifted a world to draw, — 
 
 What were they all but preludes poor and faint 
 
 Of Thy supreme imperial reign 
 In glory and in beauty, when each saint 
 
 Thy likeness shall attain ? 
 
 Thou hast been here ; of old, as now, 
 Walking unseen the paths we go ; 
 
 LBut in the central years, one lifetime. Thou 
 Thy visible form didst show. 
 
 -^ nP- 
 
4fi Lfj. 
 
 ■ THE GIVER AND THE GIFTS. 167 ^ 
 
 A cloud did steal Thee from us ; but that hour 
 
 Thy glorious ministry began ; 
 Tliou gav'st the word — from thence, with quick- 
 ening power, 
 
 That word the earth o'erran. 
 
 Thou art not gone, but hidden ; to our sense 
 
 Thou shalt return ; Thou didst not show 
 Thy glory at the first, whose height immense 
 
 Stooped to our stature low. 
 
 Till Thy true advent dawn, Thy Church, like Thee, 
 
 Shall sufier, die, and rise again ; 
 Then, glorified, made white, eternally 
 
 With Thee on earth shall reign. 
 
 CHARLES LAURENCE FORD. 
 
 THE GIVER AND THE GIFTS 
 
 rflHE path I trod so pleasant was and fair, 
 JL I counted it life's best ; 
 
 Forgetting that Thou, Lord, hadst placed me there 
 To journey towards Thy rest. 
 
 Forgetting that the path was only good 
 
 Because the homeward way, 
 [ held it fullest beauty where I stood— 
 
 I thought these gleams the day. 
 
 •Hn 
 
 
-111 
 1 J 
 
 1(38 THE GIVER AND THE GIFTS. 
 
 I know I might have seen in every star 
 
 That sheds its light on me, 
 A lamp of Thine, set out to guide from far 
 
 My steps towards home and Thee ; — 
 
 Have heard in streams with bending grasses clad, 
 
 "Which sparkled through the sod, 
 The music of the river that makes glad 
 
 The city of our God ; — 
 
 In flowers plucked but to wither in my hand, 
 
 Or passed with lingering feet, 
 Have read my Father's promise of a land 
 
 Wliere flowers are still more sweet. 
 
 And I have knelt, how often, thanking Thee 
 
 For what Thy love hath given. 
 Then turned away to bend to these my knee, 
 
 And seek in these my Heaven. 
 
 Forgive me that I, looking for the day, 
 
 Forget whence it would shine ; 
 And turned Thy helps to reasons for delay, 
 
 And loved not Thee, but Thine. 
 
 YeX most for the cold heart with which I write 
 
 Of sin so faintly felt : — 
 Tliis frost of doubt, this darkness as of night 
 
 Thv love can cheer and melt. 
 
"4^ 
 
 "/ WILL arise:' 169 
 
 On mc unworthy shed, O Lord, the glow 
 
 Of Thy dear light and love, 
 That I may walk with trusting faith below. 
 
 Towards the fair land above ; 
 
 That I may learn in all Thy gifts to see 
 
 The love that on me smiled, 
 And find in all I have a thought of Thee, 
 
 Who thus hast blessed Thy child ; 
 
 And most in what Thy tenderest love hath given 
 
 Those to my heart most dear ; 
 May I through these look upward to Thy Heaven, 
 
 In these find Thee most near. 
 
 LUCY FLETCHEK. 
 
 '«/ WILL ARISE AND GO TO MY FATHER." 
 
 I ASK if Thou canst love me still, O God ? 
 They say Thou canst not love so weak a thing — 
 One that was angered by a Father's rod, 
 One that hath wayward and rebellious been, 
 Unstable, thankless,. prone to every sin. 
 Thou knowest all — yet whither shall I go, 
 To leave my sins and with them leave my woe, 
 Except to Thee, who only help canst bring. 
 And bid me live thy pi^rdoniug love to sing ? 
 15 
 
 li II 
 
tf\ iff, 
 
 170 WAKING. I 
 
 I como, my sinful thouglits have vexed me long ; 
 
 I fly, for evil spirits round me throng, 
 
 And I am weak, but Thou, my God, art sti'ong I 
 
 My tears are flowing — no, Tliou canst not see 
 
 Thy child in anguish and not pity me. 
 
 I lay my head upon thy infinite heart, 
 
 I liide beneath the shelter of thy wing ; 
 
 Pursued, and tempted, helj^less, I must cling 
 
 To Thee, my Father ; bid me not depart. 
 
 For sin and death pursue, and life is where Thou art i 
 
 >J< 
 Pede Cruets. 
 
 W A K 1 1^ G. 
 
 HAVE done, at length, with dreaming ; 
 Henceforth, O Thou Soul of mine. 
 Thou must take up sword and gaimtlet, 
 
 Waging warfare most divine. 
 Life is struggle, combat, victory — 
 
 Wherefore have I slumbered on 
 With my forces all unmarshaled. 
 
 With my weapons all undrawn ? 
 Oh, how many a glorious record 
 
 Had the angel of me kept. 
 Had I done instead of doubted, 
 
 Had I warred instead of wept I 
 
 rp" 
 
WAKING. 171 
 
 But, begone ! regret, bewailing, 
 
 Ye but weaken at the best ; 
 I have tried the trusty weapons 
 
 Resting erst within my breast : 
 I have wakened to my duty, 
 
 To a knowledge strong and deep, 
 That I dreamed not of aforetime 
 
 In my long, ingloiious sleep : 
 For to lose is something awful, 
 
 And I knew it not before ; 
 And I dreamed not how stupendous 
 
 Was the secret that I bore — 
 The great, deep, mysterious secret 
 
 Of a life to be wrought out 
 Into warm, heroic action, 
 
 Weakened not by fear or doubt. 
 In this subtle sense of living. 
 
 Newly stirred in every vein, 
 I can feel a throb electric, 
 
 Pleasure half-allied to pain. — 
 'Tis so great — and yet so awful — 
 
 So bewildering, yet so brave, 
 To be king in every conflict 
 
 Where before I crouched a slave. 
 It's so glorious to be conscious 
 
 Of a glorious power within, 
 Stronger than the rallying forces 
 
 Of a charged and marshaled sin. 
 

 mmmmi^mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmammammmmmem-m^ '='c* 
 
 1 72 KOTIIING JJ UT LtJA VES. 
 
 Kever in tliose old romances 
 
 Felt I half the sense of life 
 That I feel within me stirring 
 
 Standing in the place of strife. 
 Oh, those olden days of dalliance, 
 
 When I wantoned with my fate, 
 When I trifled with a knowledge 
 
 That well-ni<?h had come too late 
 Yet, my Soul, look not behind thee, 
 
 Thou hast work to do at last ; 
 Let the brave toil of the Present 
 
 Overarch the cruml^ling Past ; 
 Build thy great acts high, and higher, 
 
 Build them on the conquered sod 
 Where thy weakness first fell bleeding. 
 
 And thy first j^rayer rose to God. 
 
 CAROLINE A. BRIGG& 
 
 NOTIIIXG BUT LEAVES. 
 
 I^OTHING but leaves: the spirit grieves 
 jlI Over a wasted life. 
 Sins committed while conscience slept ; 
 Promises made, but never kept ; 
 Hatred, battle, and strife — 
 Kothino; but leaves. 
 
 -til 
 
 Nothing but leaves : no garnered sheaves 
 Of life's fair ripened grain ; 
 
 
PA UZ GERIIA RD T 'S IIYMK 1^3 
 
 "Words, idle words, for earnest deeds. 
 We sow our seed— lo ! tares and weeds : 
 Go reap witli toil and pain 
 Notliing but leaves. 
 
 Nothing but leaves : memory weaves 
 
 No veil to sever tlie past ; 
 As we return our weary way. 
 Counting each lost and misspent day. 
 
 We find sadly, at last. 
 
 Nothing but leaves. 
 
 And shall we meet the Master so, 
 
 Bearing our withered leaves ? 
 The Saviour looks for perfect fruit : 
 We stand before Him, humbled, mute, 
 
 Waiting the word He breathes — 
 Nothing; but leaves. 
 
 PAUL GERHARDTS HYMN 
 
 COIVIETH sunshine after rain, 
 After morning joy again; 
 After heavy, bitter grief, 
 Dawneth surely sweet relief: 
 
 And my soul, who, from her height, 
 Sank to realms of woe and night, 
 Wingeth now to heaven her flight. 
 15* 
 
4 |— i M t — imii i i mi i i' iii— — ■— — i 
 ■B 
 
 5 1 74 PA UL GERHA K D T \S HYMN. 
 
 He whom this world dares not face, 
 Hath refreshed me with His grace. 
 And His mighty Hand unbound, 
 Chains of hell about me wound ; 
 
 Quicker, stronger, leaps my blood, 
 Since His mercy, like a flood, 
 Poured o'er all my heart for good. 
 
 Bitter anguish have I borne. 
 Keen regret my heart hath torn. 
 Sorrow dimmed my weeping eyes, 
 Satan blinded me with lies : 
 
 Yet at last am I set free, 
 Help, protection, love, to me 
 Once more true companions be. 
 
 Ne'er was left a helpless prey, 
 
 Ne'er with shame was turned away, — 
 
 He who gave himself to God, 
 
 Ajid on him had cast a load ; 
 
 Who in God his hope hath placed. 
 Shall not life in pain outwaste, 
 Fullest joy he yet shall taste. 
 
 8 'J M ...m , 
 
 i\\ III 
 

 % 
 
 « liFST REMAINETTiy ] 7 < 
 
 " 7;:j!i'>s:/' kemainetji:' 
 
 J>^ST I2BMAINETR— oh, how sweet 
 
 Flowery fields for wandering feet, 
 Peaceful calm for sleepless eyes, 
 Life for deatli, and songs for sighs. 
 
 liest remalneth — hush that sigh ; 
 Mourning pilgrim, rest is nigh ; 
 Yet a season, bright and blest, 
 Thou shalt enter on thy rest. 
 
 Rest remalneth — rest from sin — 
 Guilt can never enter in ; 
 Every warring thought shall cease — 
 Rest in purity and peace. 
 
 Best remalneth — rest from tears. 
 Rest from parting, rest from fears ; 
 Every trembling thought shall be 
 Lost, my Saviour — lost in Thee. 
 
 Rest remalneth — oh, how blest I 
 We believe, and we have rest ; 
 Faith, reposing faith, hath been 
 'JVIongst the things that are not seen. 
 
 ^ 
 
170 " ^ SHALL BE SA TISFIEDr 
 
 Thus, my Saviour, let me be 
 Even here at rest in Thee, 
 And, at last, by Thee possessed, 
 On Thy bosom sink to rest. 
 
 From '' Dark Sayings on a llariyT 
 
 "/ SHALL BE SATLSFLED:' 
 
 'H'OT HERE! not here! not where the spark- 
 .J\ ling waters 
 
 Fade into mocking sands, as we draw near ; 
 Where in the wilderness each footstep falters : 
 I shall be satisfied — but oh, not here ! 
 
 Not here — where every dream of bliss deceives us, 
 Where the worn spii'it never gains its goal ; 
 Where, haunted ever by the thought that grieves us, 
 Across us flopds of bitter memory roll. 
 
 There is a land where every pulse is thrilling 
 With raptm-e earth's sojourners may not know ; 
 "Where heaven's rei^ose the weary heart is stilling, 
 And peacefully life's time-toss'd currents flow. 
 
 Far out of sight, while yet the flesh infolds us, 
 Lies the fair country wbere our hearts abide, 
 And of its bliss is naught more wondi'ous told ua 
 Than these few w ords : " I shall be satisfied 1" 
 
 r-= 
 
rfr i-g-jr>:j.T.ay.T-. 
 
 JES US, I AM I^E VER WE A RY. 177 
 
 Satisfied ! satisfied ! the sj^irit's yearning 
 For sweet companionship with kindred minds ; 
 The silent love that here meets no returning, 
 The inspiration yfhich no language finds. 
 
 Shallthej be satisfied ? — the soul's yague longing?, 
 The aching void which nothing earthly fills ? 
 
 what desires upon my soul are thronging, 
 As I look upward to the heavenly hills ! 
 
 Thither my weak and weary feet are tending — 
 Saviour and Lord, with Thy frail child abide ; 
 Guide me toward home, where, all my wanderi iiga 
 ended, 
 
 1 then shall see I'liee and " be satisfied !" 
 
 JESUS, I AAf NEVER WEARY. 
 
 JESUS, I am never weary. 
 When upon this bed of pain ; 
 If Thy presence only cheer me, 
 All ray loss I count but gain : 
 
 Ever near me. 
 Ever near me. Lord, remain ! 
 
 Dear ones come with fruits and floT.crg, 
 Thus to cheer my heart the while, 
 
 uftat*** '.saKaTCnErorTfls^^^ire 
 

 .t. 
 
 1*78 JESUS, I AM NEVER WEART. 
 
 In these deeply anxious hours ; 
 Oh ! if Jesus only smile ! — 
 
 Only Jesus 
 Can these troubling fears bi'guile. 
 
 All my sins wer(3 laid upon Tiiee, 
 Ail my griefs were on Thee laid ; 
 
 For the blood of Thine atonement 
 All my utmost debts has paid : 
 
 Dearest Saviour ! 
 I believe, for Thou hast said. 
 
 Dearest Saviour ! go not from me ; 
 
 Let Thy presence still abide ; 
 Look in tenderest love upon me— 
 
 I am sheltering at Thy side, 
 Dearest Saviour ! 
 
 Whc for suffering sinners died. 
 
 Botli mine arms are clasped around Thee, 
 And my head is on Thy breast ; 
 
 For my weary soul has found Thee 
 Such a perfect, perfect rest. 
 
 Dearest Saviour ! 
 Now I know that I am blest. 
 
 Mils. WEISS. 
 
 WIUCgTOTT J %njB 
 
rjTTtianrwiminif 
 
 WE SHALL SEE JIIM AS HE IS. 1^9 
 
 WE SHALL SEE HIM AS HE IS. 
 
 VrOT as He was, a liouseless stranger, 
 i.^ With no home to shield His head ; 
 Not as seen in Bethlehem's manger, 
 Where the horned oxen fed ; — 
 
 Not as in the Garden groaning, 
 Plunged in cieep, mysterious woe, 
 
 All the guilt of man bemoaning, 
 
 While the precious blood-sweats flow — 
 
 Not as seen on Calvary's mountain, 
 Where He olfered up His soul. 
 
 Opening wide that sacred Fountain, 
 Wliich alone can make us whole ; — 
 
 Not as He was, a pale and breathless 
 Captive in the shades beneath, — 
 
 But as He is. Immortal, Deathless, 
 Conqueror o'er the j)owers of death I 
 
 Yes ! we shall see Him in our nature. 
 
 Seated on His lofty Throne — 
 Loved, adored by every creature — 
 
 Owned as God, and God alone I 
 
 
180 CONTENTMENT. 
 
 
 There countlesjj hosts of shiniug spirits 
 Strike their harps, and loudly sing 
 
 To the praise of Jesus' merits, 
 To the gloiy of their King 1 
 
 Wlien we pass o'er death's dark river, 
 
 "We shall see Him as He is — 
 Resting in His loye and favcr, 
 Owning all the glory His. 
 
 There to cast our crriwns before Him — 
 Oh, what bliss the thought affords ! 
 
 There forever to adore Him — 
 
 King of kings and Lord of lords I 
 
 CONTENTMENT. 
 
 I)E thou content ; be still before 
 } His face, at whose right hand doth reign 
 Fullness of joy for evermore, 
 . Without whom all thy toil is vain : '{ 
 
 He is thy living spring, thy sun, vfh»"»se rays r! 
 
 Make glad with life and light thy dreary daya, \ 
 
 Be thou content, ij 
 
 In Him i^ comfort, light, and grace, ! 
 
 And changeless love beyond our thought ; i 
 
 The sorest pang, the worst disgrace, '{ 
 
 If He is there, shall hann tJice not. • 
 
HA VE FAITH IN GOD. 181 
 
 He can lift off thy cross, and loose thy bands, 
 And calm thy fears • nay, death is in His hands : 
 Be thou content. 
 
 Or art thou friendless and alone, 
 
 Hast none in whom thou canst confide ? 
 
 God careth for thee, lonely one — 
 Comfort and help He will provide. 
 
 He sees thy sorrows, and thy hidden grisf, 
 
 He knoweth when to send thee quick relief: 
 Be thou content. 
 
 lliy heart's unspoken pain He knows. 
 Thy secret sighs He hears full well ; 
 
 What to none else thou dar'st disclose. 
 To Him thou may'st with boldness tell. 
 
 He is not far away, but ever nigh. 
 
 And answereth willingly the poor man's ci*y : 
 Be thou content. 
 
 HA VE FAITH IN GOT). 
 
 HAVE faith in God ! for He who reigns on liigi 
 Hath borne thy grief and hears the suj)pli 
 ant's sigh ; 
 Still to His arms, thine only refuge, fly. 
 Have faith in God I 
 IG 
 
4 
 
 182 BREAD UPON THE WATERS. 
 
 Fear not to call on Him, O soul distressed ! 
 Thy sorrow's whisper woos thee to His breast ; 
 He who is oftenest there is oftenest Idlest. 
 Have faith in God ! 
 
 Lean :iot on Egypt's reeds ; slake not thy thirst 
 At earthly cisterns. Seek the kingdom first. 
 Though man and Satan fright thee with their 
 worst, 
 
 Have faith in God ! 
 
 Go ! tell Him all ! The sigh thy bosom heaves 
 Is heard in heaven. Strength and grace He gives, 
 Who gave Himself for thee. Our Jesus lives. 
 Have faith in God ! 
 
 ANNA SHIPTON. 
 
 BREAD UrON THE WATERS. 
 
 SAY not, " 'Twas all in vain," 
 The anguish, and the darkness, and the strife ; 
 Love thrown upon the waters comes again 
 In quenchless yearnings for a nobler life. 
 Tliink ! In that midnight, on thy w^eary sight 
 The stars shone forth, and 'neath their welcomo 
 rays 
 Thine hopes to Heaven like birds first took their 
 flight, 
 And " thou shalt find them — after many days," 
 
 «l- ft" 
 
 l=^i!0 
 
BREAD UPON THE WATERS. 183 
 
 Say not, " 'Twas all in vain," 
 
 The vigil, and the sickness, and the tears ; 
 For in that Land " whore there is no more pain," 
 
 The grain is garnered from those mournful years. 
 The faded torm, once sheltered on thy breast, 
 
 In gentle ministry thy care repays ; 
 And smiling on thee from her sinless rest, 
 
 Fear not to find her — " after many days." 
 
 Say not, '' 'Twas all in vain," 
 
 Thy tenderness, thy meekness — oh, not so ! 
 A strength for others' sufferings shalt thou gain. 
 
 As healing balms from bruised flowerets flow. 
 Weep not the wealth in fearless faith cast forth 
 
 On the dark billows sliiiD wrecked to thy gaze ; 
 The bark was frail, the gem had still its worth. 
 
 And " thou shalt find it — after many days." 
 
 Say not, '• 'Twas all in vain," 
 The watching, and the waiting, and the prayer ; 
 In pierced liands hath it unassumcd lain ; 
 
 'Twill grow more radiant as it lingereth there. 
 'Tis space — where once, thy quiveiing form waa 
 cast, 
 Thy heart-wrung sobs no floating breeze betrays , 
 Yet, 'mid the white-winged choir thy prayer hath 
 passed. 
 And " thou shalt find it— after many days." 
 
 **> jaw Bsmi^Hn 
 
184 REST FOR THE WEARY. 
 
 Say not, " 'Twas all in vain," 
 
 The patience, and the pity, and the word 
 In warning breathed 'mid passion's hurricane, 
 
 Unheeded here — but God that whisi^er heard, 
 The tender grief, o'er strangers' sorrow shed, 
 
 The sacinlice that won no human praise. 
 In faith upon the waters cast thy Bread, 
 
 For " thou shalt find it — after many days." 
 
 ANNA. SHIPTON, 
 
 REST FOR THE WEARY. 
 
 VrOT long, not long ! The spirit-wasting fever 
 i^ Of this strange life shall quit each throbbing 
 
 vein ; 
 And this wild pulse flow placidly forever ; 
 And endless peace relieve the burning brain. 
 
 Earth's joys are but a dream ; its destiny 
 Is but decay and death. Its fairest fomi 
 
 Sunshine and shadow mixed. Its brightest day 
 A rainbow braided on the wreaths of storm. 
 
 Yet there is blessedness that changeth not ; 
 
 A rest with God, a life that cannot die ; 
 A better portion, and a brighter lot ; 
 
 A home with Christ, a heritage on high. 
 
THE OFFERING. 185 
 
 Hope for the hopeless, for the weary rest, 
 More gentle than the still repose of even ! 
 
 Joy for the joyless, bliss for the unblest ; 
 Homes for the desolate iu yonder heaven. 
 
 The tempest makes returning calm more dear ; 
 
 The darkest midnight makes the brightest star ; 
 Even so to us, when all is ended here, 
 
 Shall be the j)ast, remembered from afar. 
 
 Then welcome change and death ! since these 
 alone 
 
 Can break life's fetters, and dissolve its spell ; 
 Welcome all present change, which speeds us on 
 
 So swift to that which is unchano-eable. 
 
 &_-ain 
 
 THE OFFERING. 
 
 "ITO more my own. Lord Jesus ; 
 -.1 Bought with Thy precious Blood. 
 I give Thee but Thine own, Lord, 
 That long Thy love withstood. 
 
 I give the life Thou gaveat, 
 
 My j)resent, future, past ; 
 My joys, my fears, my sorrows, 
 
 My first hope and my last. 
 16* 
 
186 TBE OFFERING. 
 
 fl- 
 
 I give Theo up my weakness 
 That oft distrust hatli bred, 
 
 lliat Thy indwelling power 
 May thus be perfected. 
 
 I give the love the sweetest 
 Thy goodness grants to me ; 
 
 Take it, and make it meet, Lord, 
 For offering to Thee. 
 
 Smile ! and the very shadows 
 In Thy blest light shall shine ; 
 
 Take Thou my heart, Lord Jesus, 
 For Thou hast made it Thine. 
 
 Thou know'st my soul's ambition, 
 For Thou hast changed its aim r 
 
 (The Tvorld's reproach I fear not,) 
 To share a Saviour's shame : 
 
 Outside the camp to suffer ; 
 
 Within the Vail to meet. 
 And hear Thy softest whisper 
 
 From out the Mercy-seat. 
 
 Thou bear'st me on Thy bosom. 
 
 Amidst Thy jewels worn, 
 Upon Thy hands deep graven, 
 
 By arms of love upborne. 
 
 I 
 
^EOLD ON, HOLD IN, HOLD OUT. 187 
 
 Rescued from sin's destruction, 
 Ransomed from death and hell ; 
 
 Complete in Thee, Lord Jesus : 
 Thou hast done all things well ! 
 
 Oil, deathless love that bought me ! 
 
 Oh, pnce beyond my ken ! 
 Oh, Life, that hides my own life 
 
 E'en from my fellow-men ! 
 
 Now fashion, form, and fill me 
 With light and love Divine ; 
 
 So, ONE with Thee, Lord Jesus, 
 I'm Thine — forever Thine ! 
 
 ANNA SHIPTGN. 
 
 *-! 
 
 HOLD ON, HOLD IN, HOLD OUT. 
 
 HOLD on, my heart, in thy believing ! 
 The steadfast only wins the crown. 
 He who, vdien stormy waves are heaving, 
 Parts with his anchor, shall go down ; 
 But he who Jesus holds through all, 
 Shall stand, though heaven and earth shall fall 
 
 Hold in thy murmurs, heaven arraigning ! 
 
 The patient see God's loving face : 
 Who bear their burdens uncomplaining, 
 
 'Tis they that win the Father's grace ; 
 
 J 
 
 ■R 
 
188 GO TELL JESUS. 
 
 2 
 
 He wounds himself who bears the rod, 
 And sets himself to fight with God. 
 
 Hold out ! There comes an end to sorrow ; 
 
 Hope from the dust shall conquering rise ; 
 The storm foretells a sunnier morrow ; 
 
 The Cross points on to Paradise. 
 The Father reigneth ; cease all doubt ; 
 Hold on, my heart, hold in, hold out ! 
 
 SCnMACKBS. 
 
 GO TELL JESUS. 
 
 BURY thy sorrow, 
 The world has its share 
 Bury it deeply, 
 Hide it with care. 
 
 Think of it calmly 
 
 When curtained by night. 
 Tell it to Jesus, 
 
 And all will be right. 
 
 Tell it to Jesus, 
 
 He knoweth thy grief ; 
 Tell it to Jesus, 
 
 He'll send thee relief. 
 
 j 
 

 ^-f+ 
 
 u 
 
 A PSALM FOR NEW TEARS EVE. 189 "^ 
 
 Gather the sunlight 
 Aglow on thy way ; 
 
 Gather the moonbeams, 
 Each soft silver ray. 
 
 Hearts grown aweary 
 With heavier woe, 
 
 Droop 'mid the darkness- 
 Go comfort them, go I 
 
 Buiy thy sorrow, 
 Let others be blest ; 
 
 Give them the* sunshine, 
 Tell Jesus the rest. 
 
 A PSALM FOE JVFIV YEAR'S EVE. 
 
 A FRIEND stands at the door ; 
 In either tight-closed hand 
 Hiding rich gifts, three hundred and three-score ; 
 
 Waiting to strew them daily o'er the land 
 Even as seed the sower. 
 Each drop he treads it in and passes by : 
 It cannot be made fruitful till it die. 
 
 Oh, good Kew Year, we clasp 
 This warm shut hand of thine I 
 
190 ^ PSALM FOR KEW YEAR'S EVE. 
 
 Loosing forever, with half-sigh, half-grasp, 
 
 That which from ours falls like dead fingers' 
 twine : 
 
 Ay, whether fierce its grasp 
 
 Has been, or gentle, having been, we know 
 That it was blessed ; let the Old Year go. 
 
 Oh, New Year, teach us faith ! 
 
 The road of life is hard ; 
 When our feet bleed, and scourging winds us 
 scathe. 
 Point thou to Him whose visage was more 
 marred 
 Than any man's ; who saith 
 
 " Make straight paths for your feet — " and to 
 
 the opprcst — 
 '' Come ye to Me, and I will give you rest." 
 
 Yet hang some lamp-like hope 
 
 Above this unknown way. 
 Kind year, to give our spirits freer scope, 
 
 And our hands strength to work while it is day 
 But if that way must slope 
 
 Tombward, oh, bring before our fading eyes 
 
 The lamp of life, the Hope that never dies I 
 
 Comfort our souls with love, — 
 Love of all human kind; 
 
^ ■4- 
 
 r^i5' CELESTIAL CO ON TRY. {^v 
 
 Love special, close — in wbicli like sheltered dove 
 Each weary heart its own safe nest may find ; 
 
 And love that turns above 
 
 Adoringly : contented to resign 
 
 All loves, if need be, for the Love Divine. 
 
 Friend, come thou like a friend, 
 
 And whether bright thy face, 
 Or dim with clouds we cannot comprehend,— 
 
 We'll hold our patient hands, each in his place, 
 And trust thee to the end ; 
 
 Knowing thou leadest onwards to those spheres 
 
 Where there are neither days-, nor months, nor 
 years. 
 
 D. M. MULOCH. 
 
 THE CELESTIAL COUNTRY. 
 
 THE world is very evil ! 
 The times are waxing late : 
 Be sober, and keep vigil ; 
 
 The Judge is at the gate : 
 The Judge That comes m mercy. 
 
 The Judge that comes with might, 
 To terminate the evil, 
 
 To diadem the right. 
 When the just and gentle Monarch 
 
 Shall summon from the tomb, 
 
 -Ri^,^ rR 
 
I 
 
 4.T 
 
 1 ' - 
 
 192>. TJTE CELESTIAL COUNT RT. 
 
 
 Let man, the guilty, tremble. 
 
 For Man, the God, shall doom. 
 Arise, arise, good Christian, 
 
 Let right to wrong succeed ; 
 Let penitential sorrow 
 
 To heavenly gladness lead ; 
 To the light that hath no evening, 
 
 That knows nor moon nor sun 
 The light so new and golden, 
 
 The light that is but one. 
 And when the Sole-Begotten 
 
 Shall render up once more 
 The kingdom to the FATirER 
 
 Whose own it was before, — 
 Then glory yet unheard of 
 
 Shall shed abroad its ray, 
 Resolving all enigmas. 
 
 An endless Sabbath-day. 
 Then, then from his oppressors 
 
 The Hebrew shall go free, 
 And celebrate in triumph 
 
 The year of Jubilee ; 
 And the sunlit Land that recks no* 
 
 Of tempest nor of fight, 
 Shall fold within its bosom 
 
 Each happy Israelite : 
 The Home of fadeless splendor, 
 
 Of flowers that fear no thorn, 
 
 r 
 
i \ 
 
 L 
 
 % 
 
 Tffi: CELESTIAL COUNTRY. 193 
 
 Where tliey shall dwell as children, 
 
 Who here as exiles mourn. 
 Midst power that knows no limit, 
 
 And wisdom free from bound, 
 The Beatific Vision 
 
 Shall glad the Saints around : 
 The peace of all the faithful, 
 
 The calm of all the blest. 
 Inviolate, unvaried, 
 
 Divinest, sweetest, best. 
 Yes, peace ! for war is needless, — 
 
 Yes, calm ! for storm is past, — 
 And goal from finished labor. 
 
 And anchorage at last. 
 That peace — but who may claim it ? 
 
 The guileless in their way, 
 Who keep the ranks of battle, 
 
 Who mean the thing they say : 
 The peace that is for heaven, 
 
 And shall be for the earth : 
 The palace that re-echoes 
 
 With festal song and mirth ; 
 The garden, breathing spices, 
 
 The paradise on high : 
 Grace beautified to glory, 
 
 Unceasing minstrelsy. 
 There nothing can be feeble, 
 
 There none can ever mourn. 
 
 \ 
 
 J 
 
 a 
 
 f 
 
f^' 194 ^^^^ CELESTIAL COUNTS? 
 
 "Hi 
 
 There notliing is divided, 
 
 There nothing can be torn : 
 "Tis fury, ill, and scandal, 
 
 'Tis peaceless peace below ; 
 Peace, endless, strifeless, ageless, 
 
 The halls of Syon know : 
 O happy, holy portion, 
 
 Refection for the blest • 
 True vision of true beauty. 
 
 Sweet cure of all distress I 
 Strive, man, to win that glory ; 
 
 Toil, man, to gain that light ; 
 Send hope before to grasp it, 
 
 Till hope be lost in sight : 
 Till Jesus gives the portion 
 
 Those blessed souls to fill, 
 The insatiate, yet satisfied, 
 
 The full, yet craving still. 
 That fullness and that craving 
 
 Alike are free from pain, 
 Where thou, midst heavenly citizena 
 
 A home like theirs shalt gain. 
 Here is the warlike trumpet ; 
 
 There, life set fi"ce from sin ; 
 When to the last Great Supper 
 
 The faithful shall come in : 
 When the heavejily net is laden 
 
 With fishes many and great : 
 
 rf+ 
 
mrn — ~i — -"— -~~~»»'«« i 
 
 THE CELESTIAL COUNTRY. 
 
 199 
 
 k 
 
 So glorious in its fullness, 
 
 Yet so inviolate : 
 And the perfect from the shattered, 
 
 And the fall'n from them that stand, 
 And the sheep-flock from the goat-herd 
 
 Shall part on either hand : 
 And these shall pass to torment, 
 
 And those shall triumph, then ; 
 The new peculiar nation, 
 
 Blest number of blest men, 
 Jerusalem demands them : 
 
 They paid the price on earth. 
 And now shall reap the harvest 
 
 In blissfulness and mirth : 
 The glorious holy people, 
 
 Who evermore relied 
 Upon their Chief and Father, 
 
 The King, the Crucified : 
 The sacred ransomed number 
 
 Now bright with endless sheen. 
 Who made the Cross their watch-word 
 
 Of Jesus Nazarene : 
 Who, fed with heavenly nectar. 
 
 Where foul-like odors play. 
 Draw out the endless leisure 
 
 Of that long vernal day : 
 And through the sacred lilies, 
 
 And flowers on every side, 
 
 UHBUaMBaBiWU 
 
+, — —.-— .^ — ^ 
 
 196 ^^^^ CELESTIAL COVNTBT, 
 
 The happy dear-bought people 
 
 Go wandering far and wide. 
 Their breasts are filled with gladness^ 
 
 Their mouths are tuned to praise, 
 What time, now safe forever, 
 
 On former sins they gaze : 
 The fouler was the error, 
 
 The sadder was the fall, 
 The ampler are the praises 
 
 Of Him Wlio pardoned all. 
 Their one and only anthem, 
 
 The fullness of His love. 
 Who gives, instead of torment, 
 
 Eternal joys above : 
 Instead of torment, gloiy ; 
 
 Instead of death, that life 
 Wherewith your happy Country, 
 
 True Israelties ! is rife. 
 
 Brief life is here our portion ; 
 
 Brief sorrow, short-lived care - 
 The life that knows no ending 
 
 The tearless life, is there. 
 O happy retribution ! 
 
 Short toil, eternal rest ; 
 For mortals and for sinners 
 
 A mansion with the blest ! 
 That we should look, poor wanderers, 
 
 •vflMg 
 
 4 
 
•4*' 
 
 ~f~t 
 
 
 B«a«J w^m 
 
 TEE CELESTIAL COUNTRY. 
 
 10^ 
 
 To have our home on high ! 
 That wonns should seek for dwellings 
 
 Beyond the starry sky ! 
 To all one happy guerdon 
 
 Of one celestial grace ; 
 For all, for all, who mourn their fall, 
 
 Is one eternal place : 
 And martyrdom hath roses 
 
 Upon that heavenly ground : 
 And white and virgin lilies 
 
 For virgin-souls abound. 
 There grief is turned to j)leasure ; 
 
 Such pleasure, as below 
 Ko human voice can utter, 
 
 No human heart can kno\*' ' 
 And after fleshly scandal. 
 
 And after this world's night, 
 And after storm and whirlwind, 
 
 Is calm, and joy, and light. 
 And now we fight the battle, 
 
 But then shall wear the crown 
 Of full and everlasting 
 
 And passionless renown : 
 And now we watch and struggle, 
 
 And now we live in hope. 
 And 'oyon, in her anguish, 
 
 With Babylon must cope : 
 
 But He Whom now we trust in 
 17* 
 
4 
 
 IDS 
 
 THE CELESTIAL COUNTRY. 
 
 Shall til en be seen and known, 
 And they that know and see Him 
 
 Shall have Him for their own. 
 Tlie miserable pleasures 
 
 Of the body shall decay : 
 The bland and flattering struggles 
 
 Of the flesh shall pass away : 
 And none shall there be jealous ; 
 
 And none shall there contend ; 
 Fraud, clamor, guile — what say I ? 
 
 All ill, all ill shall end ! 
 And there is David's Fountain. 
 
 And life in fullest glow. 
 And there the light is golden, 
 
 And milk and honey flow : 
 Tlic light that hath no evening, 
 
 The health that hath no sore, 
 The life that hath no ending. 
 Bat lasteth evermore. 
 
 There Jesus shall embrace us, 
 
 There Jesus be embraced, — 
 That spirit's food and sunshine 
 
 Whence earthly love is chased. 
 Amidst the happy chorus, 
 
 A place, however low. 
 Shall show Him us, and, showing, 
 
 Shall satiate cvermo. 
 
 n 
 
 
 r^ 
 
I 
 
 THE CELESTIAL COUNTRY. 199 
 
 By liope we struggle onward, 
 
 While liere we raust be fed 
 By milk, as tender infants. 
 
 But there by Living Bread. 
 The night was full of terror. 
 
 The morn is bright with gladness : 
 The Cross becomes our harbor, 
 
 And we triumph after sadness : 
 Ar.d Jestjs to His true ones 
 
 Brings troi)hies fair to see : 
 And Jesus shall be loved, and 
 
 Beheld in Galilee : 
 Beheld, when mom shall waken, 
 
 And shadows shall decay. 
 And each true-hearted servant 
 
 Shall shine as doth the day : 
 And every ear shall hear it ; — 
 
 Behold thy King's array : 
 Behold thy God in beauty, 
 
 The Law hath past away ! 
 Yes ! God my King and Portion, 
 
 In l\illness of His grace, 
 We then shall see forever. 
 
 And worship lace to face. 
 Then Jacob into Israel, 
 
 From earthlier self estranged, 
 And Leah into Rachel 
 
 Forever shall be changed : 
 
a. J. 
 
 ti 
 
 200 THE CELESmAL COUNTRY, 
 
 Then all the halls of Syon 
 For aye shall be complete, 
 
 And, in the Land of Beauty 
 All things of beauty meet. 
 
 For thee, O dear, dear Country I 
 
 Mine eyes their yigils keep ; 
 For very love, beholding 
 
 Thy happy name, they weep : 
 The mention of thy glory 
 
 Is unction to the breast, 
 And medicine in sickness, 
 
 And love, and life, and rest. 
 O one, O oncly Mansion ! 
 
 O Paradise of Joy ! 
 Where tears are ever banished, 
 
 And smiles have no alloy ; 
 Beside thy living waters 
 
 All plants are, great and small, 
 The cedar of the forest. 
 
 The hyssop of the wall : 
 With jaspers glow thy bulwarks ; 
 
 Thy streets with emeralds blaze ; 
 The sardius and the topaz 
 
 Unite in thee their rays : 
 Thine ageless walls are bonded 
 
 With amethyst unpriced : 
 
 J 
 
i i i 
 
 zr 
 
 •wMHnpiimaHMnMiim 
 
 h 
 
 1 
 
 TJIB CELESTIAL COUNTRY. 201 '- 
 
 Thy Saints build up its fabric, 
 
 And the corner-stone is Christ. 
 The Cross is all thy splendor, 
 
 The Crucified thy praise : 
 His laud and benediction 
 
 Thy ransomed people raise : 
 Jesus, the Gem of Beauty, 
 
 True God and Man, they sing : 
 The never-failing Garden, 
 
 The ever-golden Ring : 
 The Door, the Pledge, the Husband, 
 
 The Guardian of his Court : 
 The Day-star of Salvation, 
 
 The Portsr and the Port. 
 Thou hast no shore, fair ocean ! 
 
 Thou hast no time, bright day I 
 Dear fountain of refreshment 
 
 To pilgrims far away ! 
 Upon the Rock of Ages 
 
 They raise thy holy tower : 
 Thine is the victor's laurel, 
 
 And thine the golden dower : 
 Thou feel'st in mystic rapture, 
 
 O Bride that know'st no guile, 
 The Prince's sweetest kisses, 
 
 The Prince's loveliest smile : 
 Unfading lilies, bracelets 
 
 Of living pearl thine own ; 
 
 ■ ii.ii.mttn ■■iiii i iii Ill III i.i^..(.iii- 
 
I 
 
 202 ^^^^ CELESTIAL COUNTRY, 
 
 The Lamb is ever near thee, 
 
 The Bridegroom thine alone ; 
 The Crown is He to guerdon, 
 
 The Buckler to protect. 
 And He Himself the Mansion 
 
 And He the Architect. 
 The only art thou ncedest, 
 
 Thanksgiving for thy lot : 
 The only joy thou seekest, 
 
 The Life where Death is not : 
 And all thine endless leisure 
 
 In sweetest accents sings, 
 The ill that was thy merit,. — 
 
 The wealth that i? thy King's 1 
 
 Jerusalem the golden, 
 
 With milk and honey blest, 
 Beneath thy contemplation 
 
 Sink heart and voice oppressed : 
 I know not, O I know not, 
 
 What social joys are there ; 
 What radiancy of glory. 
 
 What light beyond compare I 
 And when I fain would sing them, 
 
 My spirit fails and faints ; 
 And vainly would it image 
 
 The assembly of the Saints. 
 They stand, those halls of Syon, 
 
 ^ 
 
THE CELESTIAL COUNTRY. 203 k 
 
 t 
 
 t 
 
 Conjubilant with song, 
 And bright with many an angel, 
 
 And all the martyr throng : 
 The Prince is ever in them ; 
 
 The daylight is serene ; 
 The pastures of the Blessed 
 
 Are decked in glorious sheen. 
 There is the throne of David, — 
 
 And there, from care released, 
 Tlie song of them that triumph, 
 
 The shout of them that feast : 
 And they who, with their Leader, 
 
 Have conquered in the fight, 
 Forever and forever 
 
 Are clad in robes of whit« ! 
 
 O holy, placid harp-notea 
 
 Of that eternal hymn ! 
 O sacred, sweet refection, 
 
 And peace of Seraphim ! 
 O thirst, forever ardent. 
 
 Yet evermore content ! 
 O true peculiar \nsion 
 
 Of God cunctipotent I 
 Ye know the many mansions 
 
 For many a glorious name, 
 And divers retributions 
 
 That divers merits claim : 
 
I K. ram 
 
 204 'J-'JJi' CELESTIAL COUNTRY, 
 
 For midst tlie constellations 
 That deck our eanhly sky, 
 
 This star than that is brighter, — • 
 And so it is on high. 
 
 Jerusalem the glorious ! 
 
 The glory of th' Elect I 
 dear and future vision 
 
 That eager hearts expect ; 
 Even now by foith I see thee ; 
 
 Even here thy walls discern : 
 To thee my thoughts arc kindled, 
 
 And strive and pant and yearn : 
 Jerusalem the onely, 
 
 That look'st from heaven below, 
 In thee is all my glory ; 
 
 In me is all my woe : 
 And though my body may not, 
 
 My spirit seeks thee fain, 
 Till flesh and earth return me 
 
 To earth and flesh again. 
 O none can tell thy bulwarks, 
 
 How gloriously they rise : 
 O none can tell thy capitals 
 
 Of beautiful device : 
 Thy loveliness oppresses 
 
 All human thought and heart : 
 
 oat^^BB 
 
 '„iin«iinwMmi»-«gmpag 
 
if 
 
 r 
 
 THE CELESTIAL COUNTRY. 205 
 
 A-nd none, O peace, O Syon, 
 
 Can sing thee as thou art. 
 New mansion of new people, 
 
 Whom God's own love and light 
 Promote, increase, make holy, 
 
 Identify, unite. 
 Thou City of the Angels ! 
 
 Thou City of the Lord ! 
 Whose everlasting music 
 
 Is the glorious decachord !* 
 And there the band of Prophets 
 
 United praise ascribes. 
 And there the twelve-fold chorus 
 
 Of Israel's ransomed tribes : 
 The lily-beds of virgins, 
 
 The roses' martyr-glow, 
 The cohort of the Fathers 
 
 Who kept the faith below. 
 And there the Sole-Begotten 
 
 Is LoKD in regal state ; 
 He, Judah's mystic Lion, 
 
 He, Lamb Immaculate. 
 O fields that know no sorrow ! 
 
 O state that fears no strife ! 
 
 • Decachord. With reference to the mystical explanation, 
 which, seeing in the number ten a type of perfection, under- 
 tandsthe "instrument of ten strings" of the perfect harmony 
 of heaven. 
 
4±j— — liv 
 
 206 T^^^ CELEf^rrAL COUNTRY. 
 
 O princely bow'rs ! O land of flow'rs ! 
 O realm and home of life ! 
 
 Jerusalem, exulting 
 
 On that securest shore, 
 I hope thee, wish thee, sing thee, 
 
 And love thee evermore ! 
 I ask not for my merit : 
 
 I seek not to deny 
 My merit is destruction, 
 
 A child of wrath am I : 
 But yet with Faith I venture 
 
 And Hope upon my way ; 
 For those j^erennial guerdons 
 
 I labor night and day. 
 The Best and Dearest Father 
 
 Who made me and Who saved, 
 Bore with mc in defilement, 
 
 And from defilement laved : 
 When in His strength I struggle, 
 
 For very joy I leap. 
 When in my sin I totter, 
 
 I weep, or try to weep : 
 And grace, sweet grace celestial, 
 
 Shall all its love display. 
 And David's Royal Fountain 
 
 Purge every sin away. 
 
 rp" 
 
.tr 
 
 THE CELESTIAL COUNTRY. 
 
 O mine, my golden Syon ! 
 
 O lovelier far than gold ! 
 \Yitli laurel-girt battalions, 
 
 And safe victorious fold : 
 O sweet and blessed Country, 
 
 Shall I ever see thy face ? 
 
 sweet and blessed Country, 
 Shall I ever win thy grace ? 
 
 1 liave the hope within me 
 To comfort and to bless ! 
 
 Shall I ever win the lorize itself? 
 O tell me, tell mc. Yes ! 
 
 Exult, O dust and ashes I 
 
 The Lord shall be thy paii; : 
 His only, His forever, 
 
 Thou shalt be, and thou art ! 
 Exult, O dust and ashes I 
 
 The Lord shall be thy part : 
 His only, His forever. 
 
 Thou shalt be, and thou art ! 
 
 207 
 
 BERNARD OF CLUNY. 
 
 Translated ly JVeah 
 
 +h 
 
 sB- 
 
4s 
 
 
 it 
 
 20-6 
 
 tailf heart of grace. 
 
 TAKE HEART OF GRACE:' 
 
 II, tnoii ! who tossing on life's troubled ocean, 
 Mournest the hidings of thy Father's face, 
 And comfortless, amid the wild commotion, 
 Seekest in vain some quiet resting-place ; 
 Thou weary, fainting soul ! " take heart of 
 grace." 
 
 Look up ! when storms of woe are round thee 
 sweeping. 
 Learn thou in all thy Saviour's hand to trace : 
 Above the storm, behind the dark clouds, keeping 
 Ceaseless watch a'er thee, beams my loving face ; 
 Therefore, thou faithless one ! take heart of 
 grace. 
 
 Not all the fiercest tempests round thee blowing. 
 Can drive thee far from heaven's sweet resting- 
 p>lace ; 
 
 Not all the floods thy sorrowing soul o'erflowing, 
 Can long avail to hide from thee my face ; 
 Therefore, O downcast soul ! take heart of grace. 
 
 Oh, waste no more thy breath in weak complain-i 
 ingi 
 Doubts throw aside I No longer thus disgrace 
 My faithful love that leading, guiding, training, 
 
 JT 
 
TAKE HEAR T OF GRA CE. 209 
 
 Perfects tliee thus for my own dwelling-place. 
 O thou rebellious soul ! take heart of grace. 
 
 Hast thou not seen how, for some precious treasure. 
 Men beat of purest gold, a goodly case ? 
 
 Or cut for fragrant odors, at their pleasure, 
 Out of rough stone, a rare and polished vase ? 
 O thou short-sighted one ! take heart of grace. 
 
 Like them, when for myself I am preparing 
 Out of the soul, a fit abiding-place ; 
 
 I hew thee, beat thee, till I see thee bearing 
 My image ; and my perfect likeness trace ; 
 Therefore, thou chosen one ! take heart of grace. 
 
 Oh, then, be of good courage ! for I love thee ; 
 
 Gladly and cheerfully each cross embrace. 
 And bear it manfully ; for soon above thee. 
 
 Light from my throne each cloud away shall 
 chase ; 
 
 Therefore, afflicted one ! take heart of grace. 
 
 A.nd soon lifc-s sorest trials passed forever. 
 Faultless before thy and my Father's face, 
 
 I will present thee joyfully ; and never 
 Need to say to thee, in that restiug-23lace, 
 O weaiy, fainting sonl ! take heart of grace. 
 
 ■^ 
 
±r ""^ 
 
 2] BEG A USE HE FIRST LO VED C'S. 
 
 For every hour of that blest life immortal, 
 Thou shalt be glad my guiding hand to trace, 
 
 That made thee meet, by trials, through the porta 
 To enter in, and rest in my embrace ; 
 Therefore, look ux^vfard! and take heart of 
 o-race. h. n. c. 
 
 BECAUSE HE FIRST LOVED US. 
 
 LOVE Thee, O my God ! but not 
 For what I hope thereby, 
 JNTor yet because who love Thee not 
 
 Must die eternally. 
 I love Thee, O my God ! and still 
 
 I ever will love Thee, 
 Solely because, my God, Thou art 
 
 Who first hast loved me ! 
 
 For me, to lowest depths of woe 
 
 Thou didst Thyself abase ; 
 For me didst bear the cross, the shame, 
 
 And manifold disgrace ; 
 For me didst suffer pains unknown, 
 
 Blood-sweat and agony. 
 Yea, death itself— all, all for me ! 
 
 For me, Thine enemy \ 
 
 V rta7ya"ffTr**>*T' —"t*^^ .Bf— ^vwt.iM— B"rTfc^ 
 
4-j — jti 
 
 -J SICK AND IN PRISON. 211 ^ 
 
 Tbcu sball I uot, O Saviour, mine ! 
 
 Shall I not love Thee well ? 
 Xot with the hope of winning heaven, 
 
 Nor of escaping hell ; 
 Not with the hope of earning aught, 
 
 Nor seeking a reward ; 
 But freely, fully, as Thyself 
 
 Hast loved me, O Lord I 
 
 FRANCIS ZAVIER, 
 
 SICK AND m PRISON. 
 
 WILDLY falls the night around me, 
 Chains I cannot break have bound nu 
 Spirits unrebuked, undriven 
 From before nie darken Heaven ; 
 Creeds bewilder, and the saying 
 Unfelt prayer makes need of pra;ying. 
 
 In this bitter anguish lying 
 
 Only Thou wilt hear my crying — 
 
 Thou whose hands wash white the erring, 
 
 As the wool is at the shearing, 
 
 Not with dulcimer or psalter, 
 
 But with tears, I seek Thine altar. 
 
 "*iL. 
 
 il 
 
til i T I I 
 
 •"^ 212 SICK AND IN PRISOK ^ 
 
 Feet, tliat trod the mount so weary, 
 Eyes, tliat pitying looked on Mary, 
 Hands, that brought a Father's blessing, 
 Heads of little children pressing ; 
 Voice, that said, " Behold thy Mother," 
 Lo ! I seek ye, and none other. 
 
 Look, O gentlest eye oi pity, 
 Out ot Zion, glorious city ! 
 Speak, O voice of mercy, sweetly ! 
 Hide me, hands of love, completely. 
 Sick, in prison, lying lonely. 
 Ye can lift me up — Ye only. 
 
 In my hot brow soothe the aching. 
 In my sad heart stay the breaking ; 
 On my lips, the murmurs trembling 
 Change to praises undissembling ; 
 Make me raise as th' evangels. 
 Clothe me with the wings of angels. 
 
 Power, that made the few loaves many, 
 Power, that blessed the wine at Cana, 
 Power, that said to Lazarus " waken," 
 Leave, oh, leave me not forsaken. 
 Sick, and hungry, and in prison, 
 Save me, Crucified and Risen ! 
 
 ALICE CORT. 
 
 nrrorail wJL» 
 
*'AS ONE VmOM HIS MOTHER GOMFORTETHr^\^ 
 
 "AS ONE WHOM HIS MOTHER COM- 
 FORTETIL" 
 
 UOP v/ill I comfort yon," as wlien a sobbing 
 
 U cliild 
 
 Seeks sweet lieart-comfort on its mother's breast ; 
 By her caresses fond unconsciously beguiled 
 
 From memories of pain, soon sinks to rest. 
 
 "Ye shall be comforted." Om* hearts are faint 
 and sore. 
 We would be little children once again ; 
 But childhood would bring back the griefs we 
 knew of yore. 
 But not the mother who caressed us then. 
 
 We need a stronger love, we seek a deeper rest, 
 Whose type and earnest we once knew in this ; 
 
 The nestling of the child upon its mother's breast, 
 The sweet dreams won us by her " good-night " 
 kiss. 
 
 Lord ! grant us restful sleep, untroubled, sweet 
 and calm, 
 
 Not fitful slumbers 'mid Life's fevered dream ; 
 Oh, seal our weary eyelids with thy touch of balm 
 
 Not to re-ope until the Great Day's gleam. 
 
 ■Hn 
 
 % 
 
•^■» OTiBaiaNHHHBHiHiHBBHBBMBBaBaaaaaaBBB^BBaaBBMaaaHMBBHBHavaiiFna n lit Jill III III i -.."-» 
 
 ■ 214:"^S ONE WHOM ms MOTHER COMFORTETJI.*- * 
 
 And yet we are such children, foolish, weak and 
 blind, 
 That while we long for slesp, tliy gentle hand 
 May change the calming cuj), and far more wise 
 and^ kind, 
 Gi\'e needed bitterness with this command : 
 
 " Drink, child !" Thy Father's love shall make the 
 unsought draught 
 Sweet to thy soul, though bitter to thy lips. 
 Think, how for thee, thy sinless Elder Brother 
 quaffed 
 The cup thou filled'st, 'neath my love's eclipse. 
 
 Ah, Father ! whatsoe'er thy children truly need 
 Thou givest, not whatever they implore. 
 
 And oft we grieving think, Thy mercy gives no 
 heed 
 To our rash pleadings, when our hearts are sore. 
 
 But when the long sad lesson \vc have learned at 
 length. 
 And with unmurmuring meekness we receive 
 Tlie cup, whose bitter draught gives new and 
 mighty strength. 
 We own Thy wise true love, and no more grieve ; 
 
4jr — "- 13^ 
 
 ^'ASONE WHOM BIS MOTHER aOMFORTETH:^2\b 
 
 But rest in patient hope, although Thou long with- 
 hold 
 The chalice. Death and Life bnmmed, chiig- 
 mal seal 
 Of conquest at whose touch the pearly gates un- 
 fold. 
 And Heaven's high glories to the soul reveal. 
 
 Wc only wait as minors, till the glad biiih-day 
 Shall crown us kings before our Father's throne. 
 
 As princely exiles here, we struggle, toil, and pray, 
 With eyes by watching very weary grown. 
 
 For comfortless, aye, orphan'd, Thou dost never 
 make 
 Thy children. Trusting hearts are kept in peace, 
 And when our night-time comes, Thou'lt bid i*a 
 sleep to wake 
 Wliere every sob is hushed and sorrows cease. 
 
 +^ 
 
 

 VlSuK 
 
 it 
 
Jir 
 
 "r^rmimmmmm 
 
 t t I , 
 
 INDEX TO SUBJECTS. 
 
 PAOB 
 
 A Prayer for You . . . 127 
 
 And they shall see His Face ,. 50 
 
 Abounding in Hope y2 
 
 An Open Door '._.. 98 
 
 Affliction 119 
 
 "As one whom his Mother Comforteth" r 213 
 
 Bread Upon the Waters 182 
 
 Because He first loved us 210 
 
 Christ Risen , 53 
 
 Cast Down, but not Destroyed 91 
 
 Child on the Judgment-Seat, The 109 
 
 Christ's Call to the Soul 141 
 
 Contentment 180 
 
 Come unto Me ! , . . .. 37 
 
 Celestial Country, The 191 
 
 Day of Rest, The 153 
 
 Death of a Believer, The , . . . 20 
 
 Even as Thou Wilt ! 76 
 
 Everlasting Memorial, The 81 
 
 Earth and Heaven 22 
 
 Fruitless Toil ..... 131 
 
 Glory Dwelkth in Immauuel's Land 55 
 
 19 (217) 
 
 4 
 

 -fJJ LJl^ 
 
 218 INDEX TO SUBJECTS. 
 
 Giver and the Gifts, The 367 
 
 Go Tell Jesus! 188 
 
 He Goeth before Them 03 
 
 His Name 05 
 
 Ho Giveth Songs in the Night 93 
 
 House of God, The 107 
 
 He Leads us On ,. 117 
 
 Holj Ghost ! Dispel our Sadness 118 
 
 Hear My Cry 129 
 
 Have Faith in God 181 
 
 Hold On, Hold In, Hold Out ! 187 
 
 He Knovveth Ail 13 
 
 Homewards 14: \ 
 
 Hymn 35 t 
 
 His Truth shall be thy Shield and Buckler 143 l 
 
 In Suffering 50 P 
 
 Is this All? 123 i 
 
 Is There no Balm in Gilead ? 137 
 
 I am Christ's and Christ is Mine 149 
 
 In all Time of Tribulation 160 
 
 I will Arise and Go to my Father 169 
 
 I Shall be Satisfied 176 
 
 In the Closet.. , 49 
 
 Jacob's Ladder 71 
 
 Jesus, I am Never Weary 277 
 
 Kneeling at the Threshold 31 
 
 Ivnocking, ever Knocking 69 
 
 Light of the World, The , 114 
 
 FiOve that Passeth Knowledge, The 156 
 
 -I" I.I mi i r ii fni ni l 
 
 Bel gjAia 
 
I I I 
 
 11^7 D EX F S UBJECTS. 219 
 
 Looking^ unto Jesus 42 
 
 Loving Cup, The 1 (5 
 
 Lord, are there {^^w that be Saved ? 2(5 
 
 Lord, Thou art Mine ! 28 
 
 Leave God to order all Ihy Ways S3 
 
 Mjfeterj of Christ, The 165 
 
 Marah 7;^ 
 
 Js^earest and Dearest 9o 
 
 Now I hi}^ me Down to Sleep ]12 
 
 Nothing but Leaves 172 
 
 Night Song 10 
 
 Other World, The r>l 
 
 Open Thou our Eyes 125 
 
 Other Side, The 147 
 
 Offering, The 135 
 
 Only our Love 47 
 
 Paul Gerhard t's Hymn I73 
 
 Psalm for New Year's Eve, A 18it 
 
 Per Pacem, Ad Lucera 75 
 
 Rest Remainetb I75 
 
 Rest for the Weary 184 
 
 Sick and in Prison 211 
 
 Surely, I Come Quickly 62 
 
 Sorrowing, yet Always Rejoicing lOO 
 
 Submission 12i 
 
 Shadows of the Past 1 op 
 
 Satisfied 151 
 
 Shulamite at the Lord's Feet, The 155 
 
 ¥ 
 
 ■uiu^BKL.iPfisaHn 
 

 . . ^ 
 
 220 INDEX OF SUBJECTS. 
 
 Sheep-Track, The 15S 
 
 Shadow of the Rock, The 7 
 
 Spiritual Temple, The 44 
 
 Sinner's Friend, The 17 
 
 " Take Heart of Grace" 208 
 
 The " E'en brings a' Haaie " 68 
 
 Two Sunsets, The 77 
 
 Two Villages, The 83 
 
 Trust and Rest 106 
 
 Trust 120 
 
 Two Worlds, The 133 
 
 Two Angels, The 135 
 
 Their Names 142 
 
 Two 142 
 
 The Way is Long and Dreary 19 
 
 Upward where the Stars are Burning. 12 
 
 Undertake for Me 23 
 
 Undiscovered Country, The 24 
 
 Unseen Battle-Field, The 38 
 
 Visitation of the Sick 163 
 
 Why Dost Thou Wait 79 
 
 Wayside Watcher, The 84 
 
 Weep Not for Her 97 
 
 Waiting for Spring 103 
 
 Walking - . . 170 
 
 We shall see Him as He Is , 179 
 
 Without Money and Without Price 40 
 
 We Stood Beside the River 29 
 
 We Glory in Tribulation 34 
 
 Wailing for Christ 105 
 
 tt 
 
 
 Mnauujii I 
 
 
4^ 
 
 4^ 
 
 IISTDEX TO FIRST LINES. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 As these that watch for day 23 
 
 Art thou weary. Art thou languid ? 37 
 
 And whither came these goodly stores 44 
 
 Ah, many a time we look on starlit-nights 71 
 
 All the day you sit here idle 84 
 
 As the harp-strings only render 119 
 
 And he drew near and talked with them 125 
 
 A friend stands at the door 1 89 
 
 Bury thy sorrovv 188 
 
 Be thou content ; be still before 180 
 
 Cometh sunshine after rain 173 
 
 Come, drink ye, drink ye, all of it 16 
 
 Could we but know 24 
 
 Come to Jesus ! are you lonely 40 
 
 Dropping down the troubled river 14 
 
 Father, thy will, not mine, be done 50 
 
 Fiet not, poor soul, while doubt and fear IOC 
 
 Fair soul created in the primal hour 141 
 
 (iod sends us bitter, that the sweet 73 
 
 lie leads us on 117 
 
 Hold on, my heart, in thy believing 187 
 
 Heart, be still 10 
 
 19* (m) 
 
 J + 
 
222 INDEX TO FIRST LINKS. 
 
 Have faith in God, for He who reigns on high 181 
 
 Have mercy upon me, Lord ! 76 
 
 Hope, Christian soul ! in every stage 92 
 
 Holy Ghost, dispel our sadness 118 
 
 I'm kneeling at the threshold 31 
 
 I ask if thou canst love me still, God ! 169 
 
 It lies around us like a cloud 51 
 
 I do not ask, Lord ! that life may be 75 
 
 It was the Sabbath's blessed hour 95 
 
 I have done at length with dreaming 170 
 
 In the quiet nursery chambers 112 
 
 I marvel night and day and cannot cease 165 
 
 Is there no balm in Gilead ? 137 
 
 I have a Saviour ! He's pleading in glory 127 
 
 In the moonlight when no murmur 114 
 
 I love Thee, my God ! but not 210 
 
 Jesus, I am never weary 177 
 
 Knocking, knocking, ever knocking 69 I 
 
 Lord, thou art mine 28 
 
 Leave God to order all thy ways 33 
 
 Long did I toil, and kne-w no earthly rest 149 
 
 Lord, I have toiled all night 131 
 
 Lord, while the shadows of the past surveying 126 
 
 Much have I borne, but not as I should bear 91 
 
 Not what I am, Lord, but what Thou art .' 156 
 
 Not long, not long. The spirit-wasting fever 184 
 
 No bird-song floated down the hill 77 
 
 No sorrow is unmingled here 100 
 
 ^ 
 
Ju 4f 
 
 INDEX TO FIRST LINES. 223 
 
 No more, my own Lord Jesus ! 185 
 
 Not as He was, a homeless stranger 179 
 
 Not here, not here ! not where the sparkling waters 176 
 
 Nothing but leaves ; the spirit grieves. 172 
 
 Jesus ! friend unfailing , 151 
 
 Oh, day most calm, most bright 153 
 
 Once slow and sad the evening fell 107 
 
 Oh, never say that the door is shut 98 
 
 wonderful ! round whose birth-hour 65 
 
 Thou ! the contrite sinner's friend 17 
 
 Holy Saviour ! Friend unseen 35 
 
 Oh, strong to save and bless 129 
 
 Over the river on the hill 83 
 
 O'er the distant mountains breaking 62 
 
 Oh, thou ! who tossing on life's troubled ocean 208 
 
 Poor trembling lamb, ah ! who outside the fold 79 
 
 Poor heart, why throb thus wildly in my breast .... 155 
 
 Peace to this House ! Thou, whose way 1 63 
 
 Rest remaineth ; oh, how sweet ! 175 
 
 Say not, 'twas all in vain ! 182 
 
 Saviour ! by thy sweet compassion 160 
 
 Sweet thought, my God ! that on the palms 142 
 
 Sometimes I catch sweet glimpses of His face 123 
 
 Since Thy Father's arm sustains thee 121 
 
 " So will I comfort you," as when a sobbing child. . . 213 
 
 The child leans on its parent's breast 120 
 
 The path I trod so pleasant was, and fair 167 
 
 The winds blow tierce across the barren wild 63 
 
 The Shadow of the Rock 7 
 
 ^ rf" 
 
1^ 
 
 224 INDEX TO FIRST LINES. 
 
 The twilight falls, t-tie night is near 
 
 The way is long and dreary 
 
 The apostle slept ; a light shone in the prison . . , 
 
 The roseate hues of early dawn 
 
 The sends of time are sinking 
 
 The air is stirred with holy life 
 
 The foe behind, the deep before 
 
 Two angels, one of Life and one of Death 
 
 Two worlds there are, to one our eyes we strain 
 
 Two buds plucked from the tree 
 
 Two v%''ays ! only two ! One leadeth 
 
 To do Thy holy will ! 
 
 Thou, Lord, my path shalt choose 
 
 There is an unseen battle field 
 
 The World is very evil 
 
 Upward where the stars are burning 
 
 Upon the hills the wind is sharp and cold. . 
 Up, And away, like the dew of the morning 
 
 We wait for Thee, all-glorious One ! 105 
 
 Whether there many be or few 26 
 
 We praise Thee oft for hours of bliss 93 
 
 Who would not go ? 25 
 
 Weep not for her, for she hath crossed the river 07 
 
 \Ve stood beside the river 29 
 
 When my sins in aspect dread 143 
 
 W ithin this leaf, to every eye 34 
 
 Whit must it be to dwell above 50 
 
 Waiting for Spring. The mother watching lonely. . 103 
 
 We dwell this side of Jordan's stream 147 
 
 Where hast been toiling all day, sweet heart ? 109 
 
 Wildly (alls the night around me 211 
 
i3fzr 
 
014 013 707 8