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STAR FLOWERS OR SONGS IN THE NIGHT 
 
A :n^ight scene 
 
STAR FLOWERS 
 
 OR 
 
 SONGS IN THE NIGHT 
 
 Stars on earth and stars in heaven, 
 
 Stars and flowers meet. 
 Flowers like stars, and stars like flowers,— 
 
 All a poem sweet. 
 
 BY 
 
 ELIZA H. MORTON 
 
 Author of Still Waters, etc. 
 
 PORTLAND. MAINE 
 
 SMITH & SALE, PUBLISHERS 
 
 1912 
 

 COPYRIGHT 1 91 2 
 
 BY 
 ELIZA H. MORTON 
 
 0^ 
 
 £CI.A305920 
 
DEDICATED TO ALL 
 
 WHO HAVE HAD ANY SORROW 
 
 OR PAIN IN LIFE 
 
The songs which give us rest, 
 The ones we love the best, 
 Are songs right from the heart - 
 The very soul a part — 
 Such songs are sometimes glad, 
 But oftener sweetly sad, 
 For such is life. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 STAR FLOWERS 
 
 
 
 
 
 3 
 
 SONGS IN THE NIGHT 
 
 
 
 
 
 4 
 
 MOTHER 
 
 
 
 
 
 5 
 
 THE MINISTRY OF FLOWERS 
 
 
 
 
 
 6 
 
 THE INFINITE 
 
 
 
 
 
 7 
 
 JULY .... 
 
 
 
 
 
 8 
 
 COURAGE 
 
 
 
 
 
 9 
 
 SOLITUDE 
 
 
 
 
 
 lO 
 
 " HAD I ONLY KNOWN " 
 
 
 
 
 
 12 
 
 SUCH A LITTLE WHILE . 
 
 
 
 
 
 13 
 
 NEVER AGAIN 
 
 
 
 
 
 14 
 
 STARS .... 
 
 
 
 
 
 IS 
 
 BLIND BARTIM.EUS 
 
 
 
 
 
 i6 
 
 BE OF GOOD CHEER 
 
 
 
 
 
 i8 
 
 THE THREAD OF GOLD . 
 
 
 
 
 
 19 
 
 THE SONG OF LIFE 
 
 
 
 
 
 20 
 
 HEART-SOBS . 
 
 
 
 
 
 22 
 
 A THOUGHT . 
 
 
 
 
 
 23 
 
 CAREFUL FOR NOTHING . 
 
 
 
 
 
 24 
 
 KEEP ME, O GOD . 
 
 
 
 
 
 25 
 
 RAPTURE 
 
 
 
 
 
 27 
 
 THAT WHICH IS LEFT 
 
 
 
 
 
 28 
 
 CHANGES 
 
 
 
 
 
 30 
 
 SHELLS . . . . . 
 
 
 
 
 
 31 
 
 SICKNESS 
 
 
 
 
 
 32 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 NO NEED TO WORRY 
 
 
 
 
 
 zz 
 
 NOBODY CARES 
 
 
 
 
 
 35 
 
 god's care . 
 
 
 
 
 
 36 
 
 SOMEBODY CARES . 
 
 
 
 
 
 37 
 
 TO AN AGED FRIEND 
 
 
 
 
 
 38 
 
 A BOOK-MARK 
 
 
 
 
 
 39 
 
 FATHER KNOWETH 
 
 
 
 
 
 40 
 
 A GARDEN FESTIVAL 
 
 
 
 
 
 41 
 
 FOR ME 
 
 
 
 
 
 43 
 
 god's ways are just . 
 
 
 
 
 
 44 
 
 THE ROBBER CHIEF 
 
 
 
 
 
 45 
 
 A HEART CRY 
 
 
 
 
 
 48 
 
 TREASURES OF DARKNESS 
 
 
 
 
 
 49 
 
 THE SONG OF STARS 
 
 
 
 
 
 50 
 
 DIVINE PERCEPTION 
 
 
 
 
 
 51 
 
 HOLD MY HAND 
 
 
 
 
 
 52 
 
 IT TAKES BUT LITTLE 
 
 
 
 
 
 54 
 
 TWO VISIONS 
 
 
 
 
 
 55 
 
 BE BRAVE 
 
 
 
 
 
 56 
 
 FRIENDSHIP . 
 
 
 
 
 
 • 57 
 
 LONELY HOURS 
 
 
 
 
 
 58 
 
 DRIFT WOOD . 
 
 
 
 
 
 . 60 
 
 THE SHINING OF HIS FACE 
 
 
 
 
 . 61 
 
 THE TWITTERING OF THE BIRDS 
 
 
 
 
 . 62 
 
 RUINS . 
 
 
 
 
 • 63 
 
 THE LOVE OF GOD 
 
 
 
 
 • 65 
 
 BE GLAD AND HOPEFUL 
 
 
 
 
 . 66 
 
 OUT OF THE DARKNESS 
 
 • 
 
 
 
 
 • 67 
 
 VIll 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 THOU REMAINEST . 
 
 THE WIND-SWEPT HARP . 
 
 THE VOICE OF THE SEA . 
 
 THE LILIES OF GOD 
 
 THE PAST AND THE FUTURE . 
 
 PROPHETIC .... 
 
 THE PICTURE ON THE WALL . 
 
 THE SILENT CITY . 
 
 RECIPROCITY .... 
 
 BEAUTY .... 
 
 a wounded spirit 
 
 what is the use 
 
 life's gold .... 
 
 futurity .... 
 
 that cutting word 
 
 be strong in god 
 
 in the glimmer of the shadows 
 
 sometimes .... 
 
 the walk to emmaus . 
 
 light beyond 
 
 the tremor of trouble 
 
 the bow of promise . 
 
 IDEALS ..... 
 
 FORSAKEN .... 
 
 THE HORROR OF A GREAT DARKNESS 
 
 HOW TO BE REFRESHED 
 
 life's DISCIPLINE . 
 
 THE FACE AT THE WINDOW . 
 
 68 
 69 
 
 70 
 72 
 
 74 
 76 
 77 
 
 79 
 80 
 
 81 
 
 82 
 
 84 
 
 85 
 86 
 
 87 
 88 
 90 
 91 
 93 
 95 
 96 
 
 97 
 98 
 
 100 
 
 lOI 
 
 102 
 103 
 104 
 
 IX 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 ROYALTY .... 
 
 
 
 
 i°5 
 
 STRENGTHEN ME . 
 
 
 
 
 107 
 
 THE STAR OF TRUTH 
 
 
 
 
 108 
 
 THINGS I LOVE 
 
 
 
 
 IIO 
 
 CHRIST THE SONG , 
 
 
 
 
 112 
 
 NOTHING CAN MAKE US AFRAID 
 
 
 
 
 114 
 
 WE ARE BUT INSTRUMENTS . 
 
 
 
 
 115 
 
 LIFE WORK .... 
 
 
 
 
 116 
 
 CONSECRATION 
 
 
 
 
 117 
 
 MY TREASURES 
 
 
 
 
 118 
 
 JESUS 
 
 
 
 
 120 
 
 SYMPATHY .... 
 
 
 
 
 121 
 
 MY SONG .... 
 
 
 
 
 122 
 
 BEAUTIFUL NAME . 
 
 
 
 
 123 
 
 YE SHALL BE COMFORTED 
 
 
 
 
 124 
 
 IF I SHOULD DIE . 
 
 
 
 
 125 
 
 A DRAMA OF LIFE 
 
 
 
 
 126 
 
 NOBILITY OF HEART 
 
 
 
 
 127 
 
 AT EVENTIDE 
 
 
 
 
 128 
 
 THE MORNING COMETH . 
 
 
 
 
 129 
 
 GLORIFIED .... 
 
 
 
 
 131 
 
STAR FLOWERS OR SONGS IN THE NIGHT 
 
STAR FLOWERS 
 
 SOME songs are like the lilies 
 That in the meadows stand. 
 They awe us with their beauty, 
 So stately and so grand. 
 
 And some are bright, enchanting, 
 
 Like garden roses red. 
 They make us think of birthdays, 
 
 And maids about to wed. 
 
 Some songs are like carnations, 
 They ravish sense and brain 
 
 Until the rythmic pleasure 
 Is one long glad refrain. 
 
 And other songs are humbler — 
 Forget-me-nots of blue. 
 
 They tell of love and duty, 
 Of friendship, tried and true. 
 
 The star flowers of the singer 
 Are songs that peace impart. 
 
 They come to us in sorrow 
 And rest the weary heart. 
 
SONGS IN THE NIGHT 
 
 SONGS in the night He giveth, 
 Songs in the darkness deep, 
 Songs when the stars are hidden, 
 
 Songs of a power to keep — 
 The power of Jesus' name. 
 
 Songs when the pain is hardest, 
 Songs when the tear-drops start, 
 
 Songs when the life is ebbing, 
 Songs from a throbbing heart, — 
 
 Jesus forever the same. 
 
 Songs when the pride is wounded, 
 Songs when the heart is sore, 
 
 Songs when by friends forsaken. 
 Songs with " the wolf at the door." 
 
 Jesus, our Helper, our King. 
 
 Songs at the grave's dark portal, 
 Songs when oppressed with grief, 
 
 Songs of a golden morning. 
 Songs of a sure relief, 
 
 Jesus, our Song ! Let us sing ! 
 
MOTHER 
 
 O MOTHER sleeping 'neath grass-sods low, 
 I never thought I could miss you so — 
 And more and more. As the days go by 
 The deeper my heart's wild yearning cry. 
 I long for thy tender, loving kiss, 
 The clasp of thy hand would be untold bliss. 
 O mother ! mother ! mother ! 
 
 I see thy face through my falling tears, 
 I think of life with its weary years, 
 My heart is beating with homesick throb, 
 A lonesome wail I check with a sob, 
 I reach to the air my empty arms 
 And clutch but mists with my fevered palms. 
 O mother ! mother ! mother ! 
 
 The great cold world like a snow-clad hill 
 Is sending blasts that my life-blood chill. 
 
 mother, darling, so kind, so true, 
 No other friend can compare with you. 
 God knows the love for He placed it there, 
 A symbol sweet of His own great care. 
 
 O mother ! mother ! mother ! 
 
 1 must not grieve for I know it 's well, 
 My work henceforth is God's love to tell, 
 And by and by at the great white throne 
 
 I shall meet you mother, my own, my own, 
 I shall see your face with love-light shine 
 Looking with eager eyes into mine. 
 O mother ! mother ! mother ! 
 
THE MINISTRY OF FLOWERS 
 
 y " \ ^ IS said that in the long and long ago 
 
 J. The angels looked upon this earth and smiled, 
 And, straightway, where their loving glances fell 
 Sprang up bright blossoms laden with perfume. 
 When in the spring the flowers lift their heads 
 We smile and touch their robes with gentle hands 
 And try to learn the lesson they would teach. 
 For lo, they teach a lesson all their own. 
 
 In youth when life is rainbow-hued and seems 
 Like bits of glory fallen from the sky, 
 Blithe Love appears with eager steps and bears 
 Upon his wings a wealth of flowers, and twines 
 Them into wreaths for those who kiss his lips, 
 And all along the gladsome way he flings 
 The roses red and lilies white and points 
 To starry heights that beacon on and on. 
 
 And when our lips are dumb with grief and pain 
 
 The blossoms whisper of a sunbright land 
 
 Where amaranths are always in full bloom. 
 
 O child of earth, weave garlands from the flowers 
 
 That haunt the dells and spring beneath thy feet. 
 
 Cull buds and scatter them with lavish hand, 
 
 Make bright the darkened hearts and homes below. 
 
 Upon this ministry of kindly love 
 
 The holy ones will smile, and every smile 
 
 Will form a star that in your crown will shine 
 
 Through all the ages of eternity. 
 
THE INFINITE 
 
 A SONG — and yet no words ! 
 A wordless song and yet so clear ! 
 It seems unlike a song ; 
 For God is in that song, — 
 His care for tiny birds. 
 
 A sob — and yet no cry ! 
 
 A voiceless woe — and yet so deep ! 
 It seems unlike a woe ; 
 For God is in that woe, — 
 
 He knows what 't is to die. 
 
 A dream — and yet no sleep ! 
 
 A waking dream — and yet so sweet ! 
 It seems unlike a dream ; 
 For God is in that dream, — 
 
 His power to hold and keep. 
 
JULY 
 
 THE air is tremulous with life 
 And summer heat. 
 It is a month of noonday dreams. 
 
 The pulses beat 
 Like sparkling waves upon a shore 
 
 Of pearly shells, 
 The mountains smile at what the sea 
 With laughter tells. 
 
 The fragrance from a thousand flowers 
 
 Is wafted near, 
 The twitter of the bobolink 
 
 Falls on the ear, 
 The passing cloud is fleecy white 
 
 And casts no shade, 
 The Orient sky has colors rich 
 
 In beauty laid. 
 
 When summer joys intoxicate 
 
 Like sparkling wine, 
 Remember this in all the years 
 
 That may be thine, 
 July is but a shimmering gleam 
 
 Through portals wide 
 Of love in all its sweetness here. 
 
 Intensified. 
 
COURAGE 
 
 NO use to sit down by the willows, 
 To sigh over woe and wrong ; 
 For sighing will never give victory, 
 Will never inspire a song. 
 
 No use to join hands with the mournful, 
 No use o'er a blow to weep, 
 
 'T is better to hope and be cheerful, 
 To smile though the wound be deep. 
 
 Arise and be filled with the Spirit, 
 
 A love may be ever thine 
 That will cover mistakes and weakness, 
 
 And give thee a power divine. 
 
 Go forth to thy work with new courage. 
 With never a thought of fear ; 
 
 The Strength of all strength is for thee. 
 The King of all kings is near. 
 
 Right here may the heavens be opened, 
 And angels of light descend ; 
 
 'T is after the showers the rainbows 
 To earth in their beauty bend. 
 
SOLITUDE 
 
 WE live our lives alone 
 Before a lofty throne ; 
 No friend, however dear, 
 However loved and near, 
 Can walk with us below, 
 And all our motives know; 
 Each soul must live apart 
 From every other heart. 
 
 In solitude our ways 
 
 Are but a tangled maze, 
 
 But lo, a Hand is there, 
 
 A Voice that says, "Beware," 
 
 In solitude we think 
 
 Strange thoughts that make us shrink 
 
 In wonder and in awe 
 
 Before God's holy law. 
 
 'T is sad to be alone 
 When self is on the throne, 
 For phantoms of the past 
 Go gliding by so fast, 
 We shudder in the gloom 
 At what may be our doom. 
 'T is sweet to be alone 
 When Christ is on the throne. 
 
 No human voice can still 
 Life's restlessness, or fill 
 
The chambers of the heart 
 That closed remain — apart. 
 'T is only God who knows 
 That which we ne'er disclose, 
 And he alone can bless, 
 And give true happiness. 
 
"HAD I ONLY KNOWN" 
 
 T TAD I only known," is the mournful cry 
 J. J. From a thousand trembling lips, 
 Like a wail it comes o'er the sea of life, 
 From a thousand sinking ships. 
 
 " Had I only known " in the early days. 
 
 In the days of burdens light, 
 I 'd never have made the mistakes I 've made 
 
 In the shadows of the night. 
 
 "Had I only known" of the bitterness 
 
 Of the dregs of gall I drink, 
 I 'd never have taken the cup in hand, 
 
 From the chain would have dropped a link. 
 
 " Had I only known," and " I might have known," 
 
 Are the saddest words of all. 
 Oh the weary days in the wilderness 
 
 And the things beyond recall. 
 
 But the veil is rent, and we all may know 
 
 That the judgments dire of men 
 Are as naught before the great bar of God, 
 
 It is there, — not now, but then. 
 
SUCH A LITTLE WHILE 
 
 SUCH a little while 
 And barriers mountain high may intervene 
 'Twixt us and those we love, I ween, 
 
 And yet we onward go 
 And often wound their heart-strings till they bleed; 
 And smile a scornful smile, and ne'er give heed 
 Though tears like rivers flow. 
 
 Such a little while, 
 
 And then the silver cord will lose its hold. 
 The bowl be broken at the fountain cold. 
 
 Too late to bend the will, 
 And then alas, regret will find a place 
 
 To carve its sorrow on a pallid face, 
 When all is lifeless, still. 
 
 Such a little while. 
 
 And lo, our view will broaden out and change, 
 Others appear as seen at wider range. 
 
 And we upon the brink 
 Of some steep precipice will shrink away 
 Trembling that we had dared so long to stay. 
 
 Yea, trembling as we think. 
 
 Such a little while, 
 
 It will not pay, like Pharisee of old. 
 To gather up my garment's heavy fold, 
 
 And say, " 't is not for me 
 To humble my proud heart, to plead, ' forgive ' 
 And let us henceforth nobly, truly live 
 
 As for eternity." 
 
 13 
 
NEVER AGAIN 
 
 NEVER again will the days come back 
 When I chased the butterflies ; 
 Never again will my youth return 
 With its sunny summer skies. 
 
 Never again will I go to school 
 In the house remembered well ; 
 
 Never again will the pupils throng 
 At the ringing of the bell. 
 
 Never again will I see my own 
 On the old tree-shaded place ; 
 
 Never again will mother be there 
 With a smile upon her face. 
 
 Never again, but oh there is much 
 
 I am glad is lost in pain, 
 The anguish keen of that death-bed scene 
 
 Can never come back again. 
 
 Never again, for our King will come 
 And His throne will be below. 
 
 Never again through the endless years 
 Will we wear the badge of woe. 
 
 14 
 
STARS 
 
 YE stars of light in heaven, 
 How brilliantly ye shine, 
 And, oh, what wondrous glory, 
 
 What heights on heights are thine ! 
 
 And this we know, though mortal, 
 
 A lesson we may learn 
 From those bright lamps above us — 
 
 The stars that glow and burn. 
 
 The golden gleams of glory 
 
 Will ne'er, no, ne'er grow dim — 
 
 The stars of our rejoicing — 
 If we but work for Him. 
 
 Aye, work for Christ the Master 
 With willing heart and hand, 
 
 And shine at length forever 
 In that bright promised land. 
 
 IS 
 
BLIND BARTIM^US 
 
 UPON fair Jordan's wide-extending plains, 
 In olden times a stately city stood 
 Mid waving palms, while through its gates rolled wealth 
 And power. Earth's cup of joy is ne'er so full 
 That sorrow hath no place and even there 
 In Jericho, were marks of woe. Beside 
 The way one sat for whom the golden sun 
 No beauty shed, the peaceful moon no rays 
 Of mellow light. No blade of tender grass. 
 No budding tree, no opening flower, no dawn 
 Of morn had charms to cheer his heart, for he 
 Was blind, yea, poor and blind and forced to beg 
 His daily food. Those dull white orbs upturned, 
 Ne'er saw the glory of the earth and sky, — 
 Poor sightless orbs ! But hark ! upon the ear 
 A long, low murmur falls, — the far-off sound 
 Of human voices and the tramp of feet 
 Like murmurings of the sea, and then is heard 
 The thrilling shout, " Lo, Jesus passeth by." 
 Trembling and pale, the beggar clasps his hands 
 In fervent prayer, as that blest name he hears 
 For long his heart had yearned that he might see 
 The Light of Life : and this makes all his soul 
 Grow wild and faint Avith struggling hope and fear. 
 And from his lips breaks forth the eager cry 
 "O Jesus, Son of David, mercy show! " 
 Though checked and censured by the crowd, he cries 
 The more, for in his hand e'en like a thread 
 Of gold, salvation lies, and shall he let 
 
 i6 
 
It go ? Ah, no : " O Jesus, mercy show ! " 
 
 He hears ! the Saviour hears ! and drawing nigh, 
 
 With lifted hands breathes these most precious words, 
 
 " Thy faith hath made thee whole." Oh, words of power! 
 
 Oh, words of tender love ! The long, long night 
 
 Uplifts its gloomy shadows from the soul, 
 
 And lo, the blind one looks upon the face 
 
 Of nature, and beholds with beaming eyes 
 
 The rich, green foliage of the olive groves, 
 
 The palms, the sparkling waters, clouds and sky, 
 
 The dim long outlines of his native hills, 
 
 And all the varied scenes of this fair world ; 
 
 But none of these can hold his gaze. With eyes 
 
 Suffused with tears to Him who by His word 
 
 Hath wrought this wondrous change he turns 
 
 And follows in the train of earth's great King, 
 
 A willing captive bound by cords of love. 
 
 17 
 
BE OF GOOD CHEER 
 
 YOU 'VE heard the thunder pealing 
 Where lilies grow, 
 You 've seen the lightning flashing 
 
 Where once the bow 
 Of many hues was bending, 
 
 And well you know 
 Darkness precedes the sun-gleams. 
 'T is change below, 
 Now weal, now woe. 
 
 But all is well, O pilgrim, 
 
 Yea, all is best. 
 If in the Master's keeping 
 
 The soul finds rest. 
 The grief, the loss, the sorrow, — 
 
 All, all are known 
 To Him who o'er the star-beams 
 Sits on His throne. 
 And hears each groan. 
 
 The changeless soon is coming, 
 
 Be brave, O heart. 
 The pain that 's like a dagger 
 
 Will soon depart. 
 O soul, take up thy burden. 
 
 Thy Strength is near ; 
 Gladness beyond all day-dreams 
 Will soon be here ! 
 Be of good cheer. 
 
THE THREAD OF GOLD 
 
 A WEAVER sat at his loom and wrought 
 A web that entranced the eye 
 He caught the flush of the purple hills, 
 He caught the tints of the sky, 
 
 He twined the leaves into graceful wreaths, 
 The brooks and the birds were there, 
 
 The solemn hush of the forest trees 
 The lilies and roses fair. 
 
 A poet's dream was that web divine 
 
 With a single golden thread 
 Which came and went with a subtle glow 
 
 Like a flame with beauty fed. 
 
 We all are weaving from morn till night 
 
 With fever of heart and brain ; 
 Some weave with laughter upon their lips 
 
 Some weave with touches of pain. 
 
 And what the web that our hands shall weave ? 
 
 Aye, what shall the pattern be ? 
 Ask of the whispering winds that blow 
 
 From over a shoreless sea. 
 
 The thread of gold is a thread of love, 
 
 Sunbright as the pulseless air. 
 Oh weave that thread with a careful hand 
 
 Till beauty is everywhere. 
 
 19 
 
THE SONG OF LIFE 
 
 LIFE is a song, tender and low — 
 Baby on breast, — 
 Prelude of joy, thrilling the heart, — 
 Lullaby, rest. 
 
 Life is a song, merry and wild. 
 
 Sung in a day, — 
 Chorus of fun, innocent glee. 
 
 Laughter and play. 
 
 Life is a song, rhythmic and sweet, 
 
 Love is its tune, — 
 Treble and bass blended in one, 
 
 Perfect as June. 
 
 Life is a song, solemn and sad — 
 
 Music most slow, — 
 Death plays the harp when it is eve, 
 
 Anthem of woe. 
 
 Life is a song, sing it with smiles. 
 
 Sing it with tears, 
 Earnestly sing, prayerfully sing. 
 
 Sing through the years. 
 
 Sing for the poor, sing for the sick. 
 
 Sing for the sad, 
 Sing till some heart catching the tune 
 
 Groweth more glad. 
 
What if the song floateth away 
 
 Into the air ? 
 What if the grave holds in its arms 
 
 All we deem fair. 
 
 Lips that are dust once more will sing, 
 
 " Praise ye the Lord." 
 Jubilee songs once more will ring, 
 
 "Glory to God." 
 
HEART-SOBS 
 
 THERE 'S a sob in some heart to-night, 
 A sob for the days gone by, 
 There 's a sob for a love that 's dead, 
 A sob, a tear, and a sigh. 
 
 There 's a sob for the vanished past, 
 
 Its sweetness, its joy, its pain. 
 There 's a sob for the " might have been," — 
 
 That never can be again. 
 
 There 's a sob for a heartless world, 
 A world that 's by sin enslaved, 
 
 And a sob for the hearts that break. 
 For souls that drift on unsaved. 
 
 There 's a sob for the gates of home, 
 
 A sob and a yearning cry, 
 For a love that 's unchanging, pure, 
 
 A love that can never die. 
 
 For 't is love that the great world needs, 
 
 A love that is tender, true, 
 And 't is found in the Crucified, 
 
 The Saviour who died for you. 
 
A THOUGHT 
 
 IN the golden flush of twilight, 
 Or the silent hush of night, 
 Like a vesper hymn of gladness 
 
 Or a vision pure and bright, 
 There may come a thought so thrilling 
 
 That the soul is lifted high, 
 And the gates of heaven swing open, 
 And an angel throng draws nigh. 
 
 While the thought, with wings of beauty. 
 
 Like a bird of flight and song, 
 Soars away afar in triumph 
 
 O'er a world of woe and wrong ; 
 And the heart grows light and happy ; 
 
 For the thought that 's from the Lord 
 On a mission goes of glory, 
 
 And will gather souls for God. 
 
 23 
 
CAREFUL FOR NOTHING 
 
 MY care was laid long, long ago 
 Upon a loving Friend. 
 He bears it now with willing hand, 
 He '11 bear it to the end. 
 He is so kind, 
 In Him I find. 
 The sympathy I need each day, 
 He is my staff, my help, my stay. 
 
 His tender care is round about 
 
 His fold and all within. 
 My Saviour long and long ago 
 Forgave my every sin. 
 And He will keep 
 Watch o'er His sheep. 
 Why should I care with anxious thought ? 
 My freedom with His blood was bought. 
 
 24 
 
KEEP ME, O GOD 
 
 THE fishermen in days of old 
 In Brittany, so we are told, 
 When launching out against the tide, 
 Were wont to pray, 
 " Keep me, O God, 
 My boat is small. Thy ocean wide. 
 Keep me, O God." 
 
 How wise that prayer I And may not we 
 While journeying toward eternity, 
 Yea, every day and every hour, 
 Look up and pray, 
 " Keep me, O God, 
 My boat is small. Thy ocean wide, 
 Keep me, O God ? " 
 
 I am so helpless, Lord, so weak ; 
 The winds of life are cold and bleak, 
 The waves are high, the waters deep ; 
 O hear me pray, 
 " Keep me, O God, 
 My boat is small, Thy ocean wide. 
 Keep me, O God." 
 
 25 
 
RAPTURE 
 
 THE sunshine warm and glowing falls 
 In every place ; 
 I feel its bright and tender rays 
 
 Upon my face. 
 My heart is like a warbling bird, 
 
 As light and free ; 
 My pulses thrill with prophecies 
 Of things to be. 
 
 The bursting buds, the springing grass, 
 
 The balmy air, 
 Bring summer thoughts, while summer sounds 
 
 Are everywhere. 
 Let others chant a dirge of life 
 
 In mournful key ; 
 My song to-day shall prelude forth 
 
 A jubilee. 
 
 And why, think ye, the soul reveals 
 
 Its inner light ? 
 Ask why the stars with glory tinge 
 
 The dreamy night. 
 The depths are deep ; this life is more 
 
 Than doth appear; 
 In tangled wilds are bird songs sweet 
 
 That reach no ear. 
 
 As waters kiss the sandy beach 
 Adown the bay, 
 
 26 
 
Then turn with silent, shining face 
 
 And glide away, 
 So tides of time both ebb and flow 
 
 With gentle swell ; 
 But whence their sparkle and their gleam ? 
 
 Ah, who can tell ? 
 
 ' T is well to let the warmth and glow 
 
 That dwell within 
 Shine forth upon a world of woe 
 
 And want and sin ; 
 The highest rapture, noble, pure, 
 
 Is from above ; 
 The sweetest joy the heart can know 
 
 Is born of love. 
 
 27 
 
THAT WHICH IS LEFT 
 
 IS life to thee, O soul bereft, 
 A burden and a pain ? 
 There 's help and strength 
 And peace at length, 
 For joy will come again ; 
 Take hold of that which still is left. 
 
 " But what is left ! " you ask with tears, 
 " The fever and the frost, 
 The jarring sounds, 
 The word that wounds 
 I would were ever lost ; 
 But they remain through long, long years." 
 
 Ah no, dear soul, not here, not there 
 Can aught that grieves remain ; 
 If all the heart 
 Becomes a part 
 Of heaven's own glad refrain, 
 Then there 's no place for dark despair. 
 
 That which is left is brighter far 
 Than gold-begotten skies ; 
 When hope swings low 
 Its shining bow, 
 And crowns the truly wise. 
 Then life becomes a gleaming star. 
 
 28 
 
The upper glory will appear, 
 The noon-birds sing once more 
 If in the Lord 
 You find your God, 
 He will your soul restore ; 
 And lo, His coming draweth near. 
 
 29 
 
CHANGES 
 
 LIKE ships driven out in the darkness, 
 Like vapor upon the hills, 
 Like snowflakes dispersed by the whirlwind, 
 
 Like sand carried down by the rills. 
 Are changes that come in this earth-life, — 
 
 Unstable is all below, — 
 Like tides swirling over the pebbles 
 With a ceaseless ebb and flow. 
 
 What causeth the growth in the lilies ? 
 
 'T is rain as well as the sun, 
 'T is change that develops and strengthens 
 
 The soul in work that is done ; 
 Rise eagerly then from low levels 
 
 To thoughts'jthat are nobly grand. 
 Move swiftly to generous service, 
 
 And let every power expand. 
 
 Mutations of earth and of spirit 
 
 But drive us to God and rest, — 
 To our Father, abiding forever, 
 
 In love that is manifest. 
 To trust and submit is the lesson. 
 
 Though shaken by grief and pain. 
 And beautiful, changeless, eternal. 
 
 Are things that to us remain. 
 
 30 
 
SHELLS 
 
 I SIT and look at the shells on my mantel 
 Reflecting the rays of light — 
 The pearl, the crimson and green intermingled — 
 
 A beautiful, wondrous sight. 
 They came from depths, from the depths of an ocean 
 
 Afar, by an Eastern land. 
 With seaweed tossed by the waves they were stranded 
 And left on the burning sand. 
 
 What hands have touched and what fingers have handled 
 
 These shells I shall never know. 
 The gleam of skies that are soft in their beauty 
 
 I see in their silvery glow. 
 I dream of years that are past and a household 
 
 That 's left like a shell behind. 
 I think of days that were bright with the presence 
 
 Of father and mother kind. 
 
 The shells now seem like the gates of a city 
 
 With pavements of shining gold. 
 The gates lift up and the waves of their glory 
 
 The ruins of earth enfold. 
 O shells of pearl with thy hues like a rainbow ! 
 
 This lesson comes home to me : 
 My heart and life may reflect a beauty 
 
 That others with joy may see. 
 
 31 
 
SICKNESS 
 
 IN weakness held by hands unseen, 
 You struggle to be strong, 
 And vainly strive to rise, to work, 
 To mingle with the throng. 
 
 Like ghosts the vanished years arise, 
 To haunt each passing hour, 
 
 They lift to you their spectral hands 
 And boast of wasted power. 
 
 Dear heart, have faith, look up, be brave 
 
 And calmly bide the day 
 When like the mists upon the hills 
 
 Your pain will pass away. 
 
 The flowers speak of summer days, 
 
 Of hope and strength anew, 
 Of One who cares for all below 
 
 And has a love for you. 
 
 That love will waken in your soul 
 
 A life to onward flow 
 Until you stand in Him complete 
 
 Unending life to know. 
 
NO NEED TO WORRY 
 
 NO longer will I hold and wear 
 This heavy garb of anxious care ; 
 It binds my soul, retards my feet, 
 And keeps me from the mercy-seat; 
 I '11 no more worry night or day, 
 There 's safety in the King's highway. 
 
 'T is Jesus bids me take no thought, 
 His blood my heavy burdens bought : 
 He guides the sparrow on the wing. 
 His Spirit makes my sad heart sing ; 
 I '11 no more worry night or day, 
 There 's safety in the King's highway. 
 
 He clothes the lily of the vale, 
 
 He calms the fury of the gale. 
 
 He holds the waters in His hand, 
 
 And checks the tide with gates of sand ; 
 
 I '11 no more worry night or day. 
 
 There 's safety in the King's highway. 
 
 When hearts are cleansed, no need to fear, 
 Ten thousand angels strong are near ; 
 No condemnation mars the peace 
 When Christ from sin gives glad release ; 
 I '11 no more worry night or day, 
 There 's safety in the King's highway. 
 
 33 
 
I '11 bury in oblivion deep 
 
 The things which made my proud heart weep ; 
 
 Christ will perfect what He 's begun, 
 
 I see by faith the victory won ; 
 
 I '11 no more worry night or day, 
 
 There 's safety in the King's highway. 
 
 34 
 
NOBODY CARES 
 
 NOBODY cares when I come or I go, 
 Nobody cares for my joy or my woe ■ 
 Terrible words from a heart all alone, 
 Terrible words from a heart turned to stone. 
 Nobody cares for me. 
 
 Nobody cares, is the suicide's cry, 
 Nobody cares if I live or I die — 
 Terrible words, all wretchedness there. 
 Terrible words of a soul in despair, 
 Nobody cares for me. 
 
 Nobody cares, is a lie, base and bold, 
 Nobody cares, by the devil was told — 
 Terrible words, yet untrue to the core. 
 Terrible words, O repeat them no more, 
 Somebody cares for you. 
 
 Somebody cares in the heavens above, 
 Somebody cares, for Jesus is love. 
 Beautiful words, O sin-sick and sad. 
 Beautiful words, list, O soul, and be glad. 
 Somebody cares for you. 
 
 35 
 
GOD'S CARE 
 
 TEN thousand birds are circling, 
 Like cloudlets in the air, 
 And to their nests are hastening, 
 Lest enemies are there. 
 
 And thus the Lord is watching 
 
 His children here below. 
 Protecting, loving, caring, 
 
 That naught may overthrow. 
 
 Yea, hovering o'er His people, 
 As song-birds o'er a nest, 
 
 He gives the sweet assurance 
 Of safety, home, and rest. 
 
 Defending and delivering, 
 
 O mighty Saviour mine, 
 Preserving from all evil, 
 
 The glory all is Thine. 
 
 36 
 
SOMEBODY CARES 
 
 IT 'S an awful thought that nobody cares 
 When the heart is wrapped in gloom, 
 That nobody cares when the soul aghast 
 
 Is facing the dreary tomb. 
 Somebody cares, the birds are singing, 
 Somebody cares the bells are ringing. 
 Somebody cares for you. 
 
 If nobody cared, thy soul adrift 
 
 Would be lost, a homeless dove ; 
 
 But somebody cares, the blood-stained cross 
 
 Is a pledge of wondrous love. 
 Somebody cares, the stars are flashing. 
 Somebody cares, the waves are dashing, 
 
 Somebody cares for you. 
 
 'T is a restful thought that somebody cares. 
 
 Mid the whirl and rush of life. 
 
 That somebody cares when in bitterness, 
 
 There are tears and pain and strife. 
 Somebody cares, it is no dreaming, 
 Somebody cares, it is no seeming, 
 
 Somebody cares for you. 
 
 37 
 
TO AN AGED FRIEND 
 
 THREESCORE and ten thy years to-day 
 And perchance more, 
 And yet thy smile is still the smile 
 
 Of days of yore, 
 Time's hand has lightly touched thy brow 
 
 With lines of care. 
 And as he touched he whispered, "Peace," 
 And stamped it there. 
 
 Think not thy usefulness is o'er 
 
 Thy work all done, 
 The clouds are radiant with light 
 
 At set of sun. 
 The busy days of other years 
 
 In beauty shine 
 Like rainbows in the sky of life, 
 
 And all are thine. 
 
 From Beulah Land the breezes blow 
 
 And scent the air ; 
 The Rose of Sharon to the soul 
 
 Is wondrous fair. 
 As forest birds pour forth their songs 
 
 Within their nest, 
 So aged hearts can sweetly sing, 
 
 And singing rest. 
 
 38 
 
A BOOK-MARK 
 
 ABIT of ribbon of the hue 
 Of summer sky, 
 And of the birds of azure wing 
 That upward fly. 
 
 A mark to help the reader keep 
 
 In memory long 
 The story that so thrilled his soul, 
 
 The treasured song. 
 
 And marks are we in that great book 
 
 That all must read ; 
 And where we guide the careless eye 
 
 'T is well to heed. 
 
 O let us pause where noble thoughts 
 
 The page illume ; 
 Where song-flowers sweet, like lilies white 
 
 Burst into bloom. 
 
 So shall we lead the reader on — 
 
 Old age and youth — 
 To pictured scenes of light and love, 
 
 To words of truth. 
 
 39 
 
FATHER KNOWETH 
 
 FATHER knoweth, yea, He knoweth, 
 Knoweth all the pain, 
 All the weary hours of labor 
 That seem spent in vain ; 
 And He knoweth all the heartaches, — 
 
 Longings unexpressed, 
 All the unattained desires 
 And the need of rest. 
 
 Father knoweth, Father knoweth, 
 
 Tender words and sweet. 
 Loving answer from high Heaven, 
 
 From the mercy-seat ; 
 Every temporal need He knoweth. 
 
 Disappointments keen, 
 All the wearing, vexing trials 
 
 Father dear hath seen. 
 
 Father knoweth, yea, He knoweth. 
 
 Lift thy hand to Him ; 
 He will clasp it, gently hold it 
 
 Through earth's twilight dim ; 
 Father knoweth and He feeleth 
 
 All His children's woe, 
 And His heart is filled with pity 
 
 For His loved below. 
 
 40 
 
A GARDEN FESTIVAL 
 
 J 'T"^ IS more than a dash of fancy - 
 
 JL The science of color-sound — 
 The flowers are set to music, 
 
 If only the key is found ; 
 Our ears are so dull of hearing 
 
 We catch but the chords in part, 
 But they are there in their beauty 
 
 Appealing to the heart. 
 
 List now to the garden chorus — 
 
 An orchestra is there — 
 The notes are soft and dreamy 
 
 That float upon the air. 
 The callas of stately beauty 
 
 The lilies of scarlet hue 
 Are mingling their cornet-echoes 
 
 With chimes from bells of blue. 
 
 The forget-me-nots are singing 
 
 A song of long ago. 
 The air is full of music 
 
 Of roses in their glow. 
 The vines are the harps of robins, 
 
 Peonies catch the tune. 
 And the sun-flowers gay are chanting 
 
 An anthem to the moon. 
 
 The drums that the bees are beating 
 Hollyhocks hold in hand, 
 
 41 
 
The snap-dragons are the fifers 
 Of this bright floral band, 
 
 The balsams and pinks and violets 
 Attune in sweet accord 
 
 And every blossom vibrates 
 With praises to the Lord, 
 
 42 
 
FOR ME 
 
 FOR me the Saviour died ; 
 In His dear name 
 I come to God in faith, 
 And pardon claim. 
 
 For me He hath a care, 
 
 No ill I fear. 
 In every time of need 
 
 The Lord is near. 
 
 I feel His love within, 
 
 So full, so sweet. 
 Along the path of life 
 
 He guides my feet. 
 
 For me He hath prepared 
 
 A mansion fair 
 A crown He hath reserved 
 
 For me to wear. 
 
 43 
 
GOD'S WAYS ARE JUST 
 
 GOD'S ways are just, 
 Though human eyes oft fail 
 To see behind 
 The irritating dust 
 
 That rises with each gale — 
 Fail hope to find. 
 
 God's ways with men 
 
 Are just and always right, 
 'T is faith we need. 
 Not human ken. 
 
 Much work is now in sight, 
 Truth is life's seed. 
 
 Ours 't is to sow 
 
 That heavenly seed with care ; 
 For soon the Lord 
 We '11 see and know, 
 
 And love be everywhere — 
 The love of God. 
 
 God's ways are just. 
 With us it lies to start 
 For higher ground ; 
 Then from the dust 
 
 A ray of light will dart, 
 And peace be found. 
 
 44 
 
THE ROBBER CHIEF 
 
 A LEGEND 
 
 y " I ^ WAS midnight in the Nile's fair land. The moon 
 
 X Shone o'er the vale with all the mild soft light 
 That marks an eve in Oriental climes. 
 The desert gleamed afar like bands of gold 
 Around an emerald stone. The great highway 
 Wound in and out among the trees within 
 The pastures green. Along the beaten path 
 Two travelers moved as tho' from far away, — 
 The one, a gentle woman with a babe, 
 Upon a patient beast of burden sat, 
 While by its side the other walked. The trees 
 Cast shadows weird and dark across the road, 
 And not a sound fell on the ear. At length 
 The pilgrims neared a rocky range of hills, 
 A well-known haunt of robbers, fierce and bold — 
 No trace of fear upon those faces calm. 
 They journeyed on with trusting hearts, as if 
 They knew a guard was stationed by their side. 
 When near the cave dark forms upon the cliffs 
 Appeared, and forth a robber stepped, who seemed 
 To lead the band. With haughty tones he bade 
 The travelers halt. The babe awoke and as 
 The chieftain caught its eye, it smiled and waved 
 Its little hands. A rustling sound as if 
 Of wings, a flash of light, and all the air 
 Seemed filled with unseen forms. The robber paused. 
 And once again the baby smiled, and held 
 
 45 
 
Its hands out to the chief, who stooping down 
 Impressed a kiss upon its guileless lips, 
 Then sternly bade his band depart and let 
 The pilgrims go their way. 
 
 Long years passed by, 
 A preacher stood before a listening throng 
 And never man before had spoken words 
 So simple and so plain. As mighty oaks 
 Are swayed by sweeping winds, so were those hearts 
 Moved to and fro, responsive to his thoughts. 
 He spake of things to come — a kingdom fair, 
 Beyond the realm of death, a King whose love 
 Should rule the earth, an endless life where toil 
 And care and woe would never vex the soul. 
 Among the throng who drank his words, as men 
 Athirst drink water from a sparkling spring 
 Was one whose heart was touched and thrilled with strange 
 Familiar feelings fraught with power. What was 
 The memory that so wrought upon his soul ? 
 What but the picture of a midnight scene 
 Long, long ago. He saw the same sweet smile 
 And felt the same blest influence as of yore. 
 Had he not kissed those lips .■* And should he not 
 Now listen to their burning words of truth ? 
 
 The days passed on, as clouds sail o'er the sky, 
 The robber, careless grown, shunned not arrest, 
 But calmly waited for his doom, content 
 To take what man should give him for his crimes — 
 And men ofttimes are cruel in their power. 
 
 46 
 
Suspended on a cross 'twixt earth and heaven 
 
 The chief was hung, to suffer pain untold, 
 
 In sweat and blood, to feel the chain give way, 
 
 The golden chain of life. But not alone, 
 
 Close by his side another cross was placed 
 
 And on it hung a well-known form, the form 
 
 Of One whose words had wakened noble thoughts, 
 
 The One whose lips when but a babe had touched 
 
 His own. His months and years of crime came back 
 
 With crushing force, and as he watched the One 
 
 Upon his left, and marked His kingly mien, 
 
 His kind and patient look, and read the words 
 
 Upon his cross, the thought came to his mind : 
 
 This man is Christ, and M'ith a mighty, wild 
 
 Despairing cry, came forth the words, " O Lord, 
 
 O Lord, remember me when Thou shalt reign — 
 
 Remember me." And lo, the sufferer turned 
 
 And looked upon the chief with that same look 
 
 That in the days of yore had stirred his soul. 
 
 And from His lips the gracious promise came, 
 
 The promise of a life beyond earth's woe. 
 
 The promise of a share in that glad reign 
 
 When all the saints shall reign with Him as King. 
 
 O ye who speak the Word, forget not this : 
 
 It often lingers in the mind for years 
 
 And years, and then comes to the light like seed 
 
 Long sown. The Spirit of the One who hung 
 
 Upon the cross works through His children now, 
 
 And sends the truth to troubled souls, with all 
 
 Its old-time force and peace and holy power. 
 
 47 
 
A HEART CRY 
 
 I LOOK at the face on the mantel, 
 The portrait of one that is gone, — 
 My mother now sleeping in silence, 
 Awaiting the dawn of earth's morn. 
 
 A watch in a case o'er the fireplace 
 
 No longer is ticking the time ; 
 For time is no more to its owner, 
 
 Stricken down in the strength of his prime. 
 
 I think of the loved in the graveyard. 
 
 The mounds that are green in the spring ; 
 
 I think of a time that is coming 
 And what to my heart it will bring. 
 
 The faces now only in shadow, 
 Will lighten with joy in that day ; 
 
 O father and mother and brother ! 
 Eternity, always for aye. 
 
 48 
 
TREASURES OF DARKNESS 
 
 IN the dimness of the darkness, 
 In the keeping of the years, 
 There 's a wretched sense of weakness, 
 There are spaces filled with tears ; 
 
 And the searchlight of God's goodness 
 Keeps revealing more and more 
 
 All the selfishness and soul-sins 
 That are crouching at life's door. 
 
 But to those who walk in meekness, 
 Though the promised light be pale. 
 
 There will come a great uplifting, 
 And a strength that ne'er will fail. 
 
 There are treasures in the darkness, 
 And the even-tide will wane. 
 
 Through the shadows God is working, 
 Not forever is life's pain. 
 
 All the riches of high places 
 God will give unto His own, 
 
 Through the blinding mists of ages 
 Light is gleaming from the throne. 
 
 49 
 
THE SONG OF STARS 
 
 IN the early dawn — creation's morn, — 
 When the Lord the corner-stone laid 
 Of this living world, in floods of light, 
 
 And its wonderful beauty made ; 
 Then the sons of God — the morning stars, 
 
 And the sky, the sea, and the land 
 Struck a mighty note of harmony 
 In an overture sweet and grand. 
 
 But a harpstring snapped — an awful pause- 
 
 And the world was all out of tune. 
 For the faulty note made a rasping sound 
 
 Like the clash of fife or bassoon ; 
 Now the pandemonium is wild 
 
 That the music of sin awakes, 
 'T is a maddening play on passions fierce 
 
 That the devil's sonata makes. 
 
 But a tender voice runs up and down 
 
 The long gamut of discord dire, 
 And the solo, Love, sung here and there. 
 
 Is touched on a heavenly lyre ; 
 And the song of stars will ring again 
 
 In a cadence complete and full 
 Through a world redeemed and purified 
 
 By the gospel beautiful. 
 
 5° 
 
DIVINE PERCEPTION 
 
 OH for a sympathy to feel 
 The sorrow unexpressed; 
 Oh for a heart to understand 
 The troubled soul's unrest. 
 
 Some seek to hide their pain away, 
 
 And, like a wounded bird, 
 Find shelter in the darkness deep 
 
 Where not a groan is heard. 
 
 But Christ, with quick discernment keen. 
 
 Saw 'neath the thin veneer 
 Of smiles, and seeming carelessness. 
 
 The heartache and the tear, 
 
 And to the worn and weary soul 
 He spoke life-words most sweet, 
 
 And in His love and pity healed 
 Those whom He chanced to meet. 
 
 And so may we with wisdom seek 
 
 The ones who stand apart. 
 And soothe with kindly tenderness 
 
 The sorrows of the heart. 
 
 51 
 
HOLD MY HAND 
 
 THERE is courage in Thy touch, Master, kind, 
 Greatness in Thy gentleness. Lord, I find ; 
 Through the dimness of the way, 
 Be my guide and be my stay, 
 When I 'm sad make me glad ; 
 Jesus, hold my hand. 
 
 In the watches of the night oft I feel 
 Dizzy faintness like a cloud o'er me steal, 
 And I lift my arm on high. 
 For I know the Helper nigh. 
 And I say as I pray: 
 Jesus, hold my hand. 
 
 Lord, the pathway of this life is so steep 
 That I falter as I look, and I weep, 
 And I tremble as I gaze 
 At the cross-roads in the maze. 
 This my prayer everywhere : 
 Jesus, hold my hand. 
 
 Let the glory of Thy truth shine through me, 
 Let my every thought, O Lord, be of Thee ; 
 For I long lost souls to win 
 From the pathway dark of sin. 
 I am weak, courage speak, 
 Jesus, hold my hand. 
 
 52 
 
When the death-damp on my brow chills my heart, 
 Bid the terrors of that hour all depart, 
 Let the angels gather near, 
 Let me see them, Saviour dear ; 
 Give me rest, sweet and blest; 
 Jesus, hold my hand. 
 
 S3 
 
IT TAKES BUT LITTLE 
 
 WE onward go in life's hurried rush, 
 And seldom stop with a solemn hush 
 To think how little to make one glad, 
 Alas, how little to make one sad. 
 Alas ! Alas ! 
 
 A bitter word from the lips held dear, 
 A scornful smile — then a scalding tear, 
 
 And life has changed — the gold departed, 
 And one stands pale and broken-hearted, 
 Alas ! Alas ! 
 
 It takes but little, O soul below, 
 To lift another from depths of woe, 
 
 The warm, close clasp of a friendly hand, 
 A smile from one we can understand. 
 O joy ! O joy ! 
 
 It lifts the burden, the doubt, the fear, 
 It makes the far seem present and near. 
 
 It hope inspires, it buoys the soul, 
 
 And helps us attain to life's great goal. 
 Be kind ! Be kind ! 
 
 54 
 
TWO VISIONS 
 
 A VISION I see in my dreaming, 
 It follows me all the day, 
 It haunts me when sleeping and waking,- 
 
 A shadow across my way. 
 The vision has death for its background, 
 
 Its vista is dimmed with tears ; 
 It reaches far back to creation, 
 
 Yea, back through the weary years. 
 
 A vision I see in the distance, 
 
 It kindles my heart aglow, — 
 A gleam of a glorious morning, 
 
 With never a shade of woe. 
 The vision has life for its background, 
 
 Like sunrise over the sea ; 
 It reaches far into the future,— 
 
 Yea, into eternity. 
 
 55 
 
BE BRAVE 
 
 O HEART so weak and selfish, 
 Fearful of pain, 
 This life is not all sadness, 
 
 And oft again 
 You '11 bask within the sunlight. 
 Though beating rain 
 
 May come to-day, 
 Be brave alway. 
 
 Beat back the clouds of darkness, 
 
 The drifting sand, 
 And struggle through the billows 
 
 To solid land : 
 So shall the palm of victory 
 Be in thy hand. 
 
 Be brave to-day, 
 Be brave alway. 
 
 S6 
 
FRIENDSHIP 
 
 AND what is friendship ? Canst thou tell ? 'T is not 
 A vortex deep and circling round to draw 
 Unto its bosom all the joy of life. 
 True friendship is an onward moving stream, 
 That gives from out its overflow a wealth 
 Of love. It is a plant whose root is twined 
 Around the solid rock of confidence. 
 It thrives in air that 's free from every cloud, 
 And must have perfect liberty. Its growth, 
 Though slow, is sure, perfecting day by day 
 A beauty all its own, a loveliness 
 E'en like the noble life of Him who had 
 On earth a chosen friend, and who thus blessed 
 The sacred tie. The friends of earth, though dear, 
 Should never be allowed to lead the heart 
 From God. True friends are those who seek to help 
 Those whom they love, and let not self intrude, 
 Or selfish ends be all their own. And should 
 The golden beauty of a bright ideal 
 Grow dim, 't is sad ; for never can the mind 
 Again see colors quite so fair ; but even then 
 'T is well to gather all the sunshine bright. 
 And scatter it with lavish hand o'er all 
 You hold most dear; for truth abides though flesh 
 Is weak, and human hearts are frail. The Friend 
 Who never proves untrue knows all our pain, 
 And stands with outstretched arms, waiting to reign 
 Within our hearts, the One supreme, the One 
 Before whom every knee shall bow, the One 
 To whom be praise and glory evermore. 
 
 57 
 
LONELY HOURS 
 
 THESE hearts of ours are fickle, frail. 
 We think we know 
 Ourselves, but, ah, the trial comes^ — 
 
 We fail, and lo 1 
 We stand aghast before the view 
 
 Our God reveals ; 
 And yet the Word is plain and sure, — 
 He knows and feels. 
 
 . We long for sympathy and love 
 
 From human lips, 
 We watch the setting sun 
 
 As low it dips 
 Down to the edge of yonder cloud. 
 
 And soon away, 
 The morning gone, the noontime past — 
 
 So like our day. 
 
 And yet these hearts, these human hearts 
 Cling to the earth. 
 
 We look around, the homestead stands — 
 
 » 
 
 Our place of birth — 
 And we are here, but loved ones gone ; 
 
 And in our pain 
 We wring our hands and cry for them. 
 
 But cry in vain. 
 
 Our eyes must look far, far above ; 
 Earth has no song 
 
 58 
 
To comfort in the night of woe 
 That seems so long ; 
 
 Our God must come and touch anew 
 These hearts of ours 
 
 Before we know the meaning deep 
 Of lonely hours. 
 
 59 
 
DRIFT WOOD 
 
 I SIT by my hearth in the firelight 
 With my books and my thoughts alone, 
 I long for the lips that are silent, 
 For the voices of tender tone. 
 
 The flames are consuming the drift wood. 
 But the warmth and the ruddy glow 
 
 Are symbols of all that was blessed 
 When life had its overflow. 
 
 I think of the loved who are sleeping 
 Where no tumult disturbs their rest, 
 
 My heart gives a throb in its anguish 
 Like a bird that has lost its nest. 
 
 I think of the friends who are wandering 
 
 In the paths of the far away, 
 And memory is fitful and restless 
 
 Like the shadows at close of day. 
 
 O life with thy burden of drift wood, 
 With thy flame in its wildering glare, 
 
 Dispel with the fires of God's kindling 
 All the darkness that brings despair. 
 
 6-0 
 
# 
 
 THE SHINING OF HIS FACE 
 
 WHEN I see the sunshine streaming 
 O'er the hill and lea, 
 All my soul at once is dreaming 
 
 And the light to me 
 Is from the King's Most Holy Place 
 And like the shining of His face. 
 
 When I see the starry ceiling 
 
 Far above my head, 
 Then I feel like humbly kneeling, 
 
 For the brightness shed 
 Is from the King's Most Holy Place 
 And like the shining of His face. 
 
 When I see the glad uplifting 
 
 Of the eyes in prayer, 
 Then the soul no more is drifting, 
 
 For the glory there 
 Is from the King's Most Ho.ly Place 
 And like the shining of His face. 
 
 6 1 
 
THE TWITTERING OF THE BIRDS 
 
 IN the morning by my window 
 In the Arborvitae trees 
 There 's a sound of wings, and twittering 
 
 Floating inward with the breeze, 
 And the sound awakens memories — 
 Memories hid in chambers dim — 
 Where the doors are closed and fastened 
 And the silence dark and grim. 
 
 With the twittering comes a bird-call 
 
 And a song-note loud and clear. 
 'T is a robin that is singing 
 
 And his song is full of cheer. 
 List, for other sounds are mingling 
 
 In a chorus deep and full. 
 'T is a morning song of praises. 
 
 'Tis an anthem worshipful. 
 
 62 
 
# 
 
 RUINS 
 
 AWAY in the country a farmhouse stands 
 Battered by winds and rains, 
 With fireless chimneys and empty rooms, 
 
 Windows with broken panes. 
 The swallows twitter beneath the roof, 
 
 The barn is all askew, 
 The snakes inhabit the garden patch 
 Where once bright flowers grew. 
 
 The doors are unhinged and the sills are worn, 
 
 The ceilings crumbling down, 
 The closets are open, all their shelves 
 
 With dirt and age are brown. 
 The silence is awful, weird and strange, 
 
 No answering voice is there ; 
 Till fancy brings out of the cold dead past 
 
 A vision with fitful glare : 
 
 The house is again with a family filled, 
 
 The children frolic in glee. 
 The farmer sits by the fireplace bright 
 
 With baby upon his knee. 
 The busy wife is mending the socks. 
 
 The dog on the rug asleep. 
 The cat is chasing its tail the while 
 
 The maid is trying to sweep. 
 
 The scene has vanished and all is still, 
 The house is wrapt in gloom, 
 
 63 
 
A musty odor pervades the air 
 
 Like vapor from out a tomb ; 
 The squirrels run races across the floors, 
 
 And cobwebs cover the walls, 
 The stairs are shattered that upward lead 
 
 From shadowy, dusty halls. 
 
 And thus is life with its changing scenes — 
 
 Desertion, death and woe — 
 Some hearts are like houses in ruins laid. 
 
 Dark shades of the long ago ; 
 But there is a mansion, a city fair, 
 
 Afar in the realms of light 
 And never in ruins will be the soul 
 
 That soars to that blissful height. 
 
 64 
 
THE LOVE OF GOD 
 
 T F ever human love was tender, 
 * Gentle, true and sweet, 
 Then infinitely more and greater 
 Is God's love, complete. 
 
 It blossoms in the snowy lilies, 
 
 Shines from every star, 
 And comes in waves of blessings holy 
 
 From the land afar. 
 
 It sings adown the long dim ages, 
 
 Touching hearts of stone ; 
 It calms the wild unrest and terror 
 
 Of the soul alone. 
 
 If ever human love was willing 
 
 To forbear, endure. 
 More infinitely kind and patient 
 
 Is God's love, secure. 
 
 It gleams across the wide, wild waters 
 
 Darkened by man's sin, 
 It whispers hope, when hope seems blasted ; 
 
 Gives new life within. 
 
 O Jesus, Saviour, full of pity. 
 
 Let Thy love divine 
 Be shed in waves of strength and beauty 
 
 Through this heart of mine. 
 
 65 
 
BE GLAD AND HOPEFUL 
 
 THOUGH the winds blow cold and chilly 
 Though the roses cease to bloom, 
 Though the trees stand bare and leafless, 
 And the earth is clothed in gloom, 
 
 Yet we need not heed the tempest 
 And the storm why should we fear ? 
 
 We can gather round the hearthstone 
 Where the flame is bright and clear. 
 
 'T is the mind that gilds or darkens, 
 
 All the scenes along life's way. 
 We may walk beneath the shadow, 
 
 Or within the light of day. 
 
 Let us then be glad and hopeful, 
 
 Let us take the harp of praise. 
 Let us see the bits of beauty 
 
 That encircle all our days. 
 
 66 
 
OUT OF THE DARKNESS 
 
 OUT of the darkness comes a moan 
 Merging its anguish into a groan. 
 Weary the years in their solemn sweep, 
 Weary the hearts that in sorrow weep, 
 Weary, weary, weary. 
 
 Out of the darkness comes a cry : 
 " Help me, dear Saviour, or I die." 
 Hushed is the sob, for help is there ; 
 Gone is the pain, the dark despair, 
 Jesus, Jesus, Jesus. 
 
 Out of the darkness comes a song, 
 Sweet are its notes and loud and long, — 
 " Holy our King, holy the Lord, 
 Holy our Saviour, holy our God, 
 Holy, holy, holy." 
 
 67 
 
THOU REMAINEST 
 
 ALL things are changing, O our God, 
 And waxing old, 
 The land is where the sea has been ; 
 
 And we behold 
 The nations rise and nations fall, 
 As was foretold ; 
 
 But Thou remainest. 
 
 We know our years are failing fast, 
 
 Our joys depart, 
 And sorrow comes with stealthy tread 
 
 To crush the heart ; 
 And something goes with every day 
 
 Out of our life, 
 And something comes to cut our pride 
 
 As with a knife ; 
 
 But Thou remainest. 
 
 Thou art the same, O changeless One, 
 
 Our hope, our stay ; 
 Abide with us, O mighty God, 
 
 To Thee we pray. 
 We know the bitterness of change 
 
 That brings forth tears. 
 But there 's a thought, a precious thought 
 
 That calms our fears — 
 'T is, Thou remainest. 
 
 68 
 
THE WIND-SWEPT HARP 
 
 I N the land of Eastern story, 
 ^ 'Mong the castles old and grim 
 There are two that stand like mountains 
 In the twilight faint and dim. 
 
 From their walls all dark and gloomy 
 There are wires stretched with care, 
 
 Like the harp of some bold giant 
 Who has forced an entrance there. 
 
 When the South winds blow, no prelude 
 
 Of a harmony is heard, 
 For those rough, strong wires can never 
 
 By the breezes soft be stirred. 
 
 But when storms in all their fury 
 Sweep across that ar-off land 
 
 Then those wires respond in music 
 And the symphony is grand. 
 
 And 't is often thus, the heart-strings — 
 That strange harp that 's out of sight - 
 
 Not a note of praise are sounding 
 When the days are calm and bright, 
 
 But when trials come and sorrow 
 And the nights of pain are long, 
 
 Then the soul in faith looks upward 
 And there 's sweetness in the song. 
 
 69 
 
THE VOICE OF THE SEA 
 
 T TPON the beach the surges moan, 
 ^ And deep and low their undertone ; 
 The tossing waves are rough and high ; 
 Of death they sing, for it is nigh, 
 
 O restless sea, 
 
 Ye speak to me ! 
 
 Thy depths are fathomless below, 
 I hear thy sighs where'er I go ; 
 Thy voice is solemn, wailing, sad. 
 No note to make the lone heart glad. 
 
 O mournful sea. 
 
 Ye trouble me ! 
 
 And yet from thee this truth I learn. 
 We cannot all God's ways discern, 
 For measureless His love and care 
 And wide and deep as sea and air. 
 
 O boundless sea. 
 
 Sing songs to me ! 
 
 Thy tides may ebb, thy tides may flow. 
 And hearts may break with pain and woe ; 
 Yet God is good, and we may find 
 A power in Him to make us kind. 
 
 O surging sea, 
 
 Ye comfort me ! 
 
 70 
 
I stand upon thy sandy shore, 
 And watch the white gulls as they soar, 
 And feel my soul has snowy wings 
 To lift it far from sordid things. 
 
 O mighty sea, 
 
 Speak on to me ! 
 
 71 
 
THE LILIES OF GOD 
 
 IT was eve, and my heart was weary 
 With the taxing toil of day, 
 And it all seemed an utter failure 
 
 In the twilight cold and gray; 
 Like the peaks of the snowy mountains, 
 
 Standing dim against the sky, 
 Seemed the lives of the Lord's own people 
 Whom the Lord would glorify. 
 
 As I pondered with eyelids heavy. 
 
 The Spirit of God came near, 
 And His blessed presence banished 
 
 Every thought of doubt and fear ; 
 And I looked, and a chain of beauty — 
 
 Precious links of gold most rare — 
 'Mid a bed of lilies was shining, 
 
 And the rain was falling there ; 
 
 And I knew that the chain was Wisdom, 
 
 And its links the Word of God, 
 And the flowers the lives of Christians, 
 
 Rising pure above the sod ; 
 And the Spirit then touched my eyelids, 
 
 And the light was sevenfold, 
 And all stains were washed from my garments, 
 
 And my timid heart made bold ; 
 
 And I felt a breath on my forehead. 
 And I saw a tablet white, 
 
 72 
 
And a pen was placed in my fingers, 
 And the Spirit bade me write, — 
 
 Yea, write for the heavy-laden, 
 The tempest-tossed within, 
 
 For the tired and weary-hearted, 
 For the sinner weak with sin. 
 
 And I looked, and the lilies were blooming 
 
 'Mid the mud and the filth below, 
 And one end of the chain was fastened 
 
 Where the heavens were all aglow. 
 And this lesson to me was given, 
 
 That the Lord will care for His own, 
 And my part is to do His bidding, 
 
 And to comfort the sad and lone. 
 
 73 
 
THE PAST AND THE FUTURE 
 
 I see from my open window 
 A field I have often seen, 
 The field where in childhood I wandered, 
 
 Beyond it a forest of green. 
 I see the gray granite ledges 
 
 With never a blossom there, 
 But berries along their edges 
 I gathered for mother to share. 
 
 The scent of the pennyroyal 
 
 Is still in the summer air. 
 The choke-cherries' red, ripe splendor 
 
 Is fairest of all the fair. 
 The brook with its high banks sloping 
 
 Is singing of long ago, 
 
 days of departed beauty, 
 
 As brief as the golden-rod's glow ! 
 
 1 see from my open Bible 
 
 A vision that 's just as true, 
 A vision that 's far more lovely 
 
 Than that which just met my view : 
 A vision of what is coming 
 
 When Jesus shall reign as King, 
 When sin is forever banished 
 
 And death with its awful sting. 
 
 Then why should I look with sadness 
 On things that recall the past ? 
 
 74 
 
The things which are surely coming 
 Are things that will ever last. 
 
 The earth with its old-time beauty 
 Will blossom no more to fade, 
 
 Its light will be light forever, 
 Its glory will know no shade. 
 
 75 
 
PROPHETIC 
 
 JANUARY I, 1896 
 
 JUST before me is a shadow 
 And a weight of woe, 
 What it is that brings this burden 
 
 I would see and know, 
 But my eyes are held and blinded 
 
 And I sit and wait 
 As a mourner sits and watches 
 At an outer gate. 
 
 What is coming, tell, O tell me, 
 
 Heart of mine, be calm. 
 Stop that fearful, anxious flutter, 
 
 Take life's healing balm, 
 I can walk straight through the darkness 
 
 Trusting in the Lord, 
 I can drain the cup of suffering. 
 
 Help me, O my God. 
 
 It is well my life is shrouded. 
 
 Well I cannot see, 
 I will bide the time of trial, 
 
 Looking, Lord, to Thee. 
 Far beyond are brighter pictures 
 
 Which no shadows dim, 
 Christ, my hiding place in trouble, 
 
 I will trust in Him, 
 
 76 
 
THE PICTURE ON THE WALL 
 
 AS I write I glance at a picture 
 I often have seen before — 
 A picture that 's near the ceiling 
 
 Beside my library door. 
 And, perchance, you 'd say, if you saw it, 
 
 " 'T is gray and lonesome and cold," 
 For the view is that of a castle 
 With spires and battlements old. 
 
 The castle is far in the background 
 
 Enshrouded in deepest gloom. 
 Like a soul that has lost its bearings 
 
 Awaiting an awful doom. 
 Giant trees cast their dismal shadows 
 
 Away o'er the crusted ground, 
 While the moon is pale in its gleaming 
 
 Through clouds and darkness profound. 
 
 The picture is one to awaken 
 
 Vague dreams of a vanished past, 
 'T is a landscape seen in the winter. 
 
 Its sky is all overcast. 
 To the eye that sweeps the horizon 
 
 The outlines are dim and far. 
 Like infinity in their vastness. 
 
 Or the haze of a distant star. 
 
 Just under the eves of the castle 
 A cottage is nestled low. 
 
 77 
 
And a light shines forth from a window 
 And makes a path o'er the snow, 
 
 Revealing a brook that is frozen 
 In places, with gullies deep 
 
 Where water keeps on in its flowing, 
 Refusing to go to sleep. 
 
 Our lives are pictures in shadows, 
 
 But shadows have light beyond. 
 And why should we sit in the darkness 
 
 And why should the heart despond ? 
 There are measureless stores of wisdom, 
 
 And fathomless depths of love, 
 There are mansions of wondrous beauty 
 
 In the light of God above. 
 
 78 
 
THE SILENT CITY 
 
 DOWN by the river under the hill 
 There is a city, silent and still, 
 Houses of granite, marble, and earth, 
 Never a marriage, never a birth. 
 
 Quiet the people under the hill, 
 Never the sound of a rattling mill ; 
 Heads never ache in the houses there, 
 Faded the flowers that the inmates wear. 
 
 Kingdoms may rise and kingdoms may fall, 
 War and the rumor of wars appall ! 
 But in that city under the hill 
 All are at rest, silent and still. 
 
 Morning is coming, coming ere long 
 When from that city a mighty throng 
 Up at the sound of a King's command 
 Up will arise from their beds and stand, 
 
 Stand in the beauty of purity. 
 
 Saved for a long eternity, 
 
 Though they now sleep down under the hill 
 
 There in a city, quiet and still. 
 
 79 
 
RECIPROCITY 
 
 THE moon looks down on the silvery lake 
 And the lake sends back the glow, 
 The brook speeds on to the river wide 
 
 And they mingle as they flow. 
 The mother smiles on her cooing babe, 
 
 And the smile is mirrored there, 
 The sunbeams rest on the willing earth 
 And it blooms with flowers rare. 
 
 The heart responds to a heartfelt love. 
 
 Else the love is spent in vain, 
 Alas the heart that is caught in the net 
 
 Of a love that is but pain, 
 But joy, oh joy, when an answering chord 
 
 In responsive rapture thrills, — 
 Thus God's great love will a strength impart 
 
 To the heart of him it fills. 
 
 80 
 
BEAUTY 
 
 IN the beauty of the morning — 
 Quiet, calm, and still — 
 When the dew is on the grass-tops, 
 
 Sunshine on the hill ; 
 Then it is my lips are singing 
 
 Of the splendor bright 
 That is seen in bird and flower 
 And in rays of light. 
 
 In the beauty of the noonday 
 
 When the sun is high, 
 Not a cloud to dim its shining 
 
 There before my eye ; 
 Then it is my mind is musing 
 
 On the things unseen. 
 And the world seems full of glory, 
 
 Naught to intervene. 
 
 In the beauty of the evening 
 
 When the day is done. 
 And I think of that sure record 
 
 When life's race is run ; 
 Then it is my soul keeps trusting 
 
 In the Lord divine, 
 And the beauty of His goodness 
 
 Fills this heart of mine. 
 
A WOUNDED SPIRIT 
 
 A WOUNDED spirit, what is worse ? 
 No sorrow like the pain 
 That turns life's sweetness into gall 
 
 And strikes with fire the brain ; 
 That changes songs into a sigh, 
 
 And serpents makes of flowers. 
 
 That turns the day to Stygian night, 
 
 And stains with tears the hours. 
 
 The heart that 's crushed by those it loves, 
 
 Yea, loves in spite of loss, 
 Has found Gethsemane of old, 
 
 Has found the cruel cross. 
 
 stricken, wounded one of earth. 
 In part ye only know ; 
 
 For all your pain combined was borne 
 By Jesus long ago. 
 
 " Jerusalem ! Jerusalem ! 
 
 O thou that killest mine. 
 How oft in loving tenderness 
 
 Would I have gathered thine, 
 
 1 would, but ye would not, would not," 
 
 O hear that mournful cry ! 
 
 Ingratitude broke Jesus' heart, 
 
 Repulsion made Him die. 
 
 O ye who bear the Saviour's name, 
 
 Be tender, loving, kind ; 
 
 « 
 
 82 
 
And though your heart is mournful, sore, 
 And naught that 's true you find, 
 
 Wrap not the robes of selfishness 
 About your own great need ; 
 
 Bind up the wounds of other hearts, 
 Break not the bruised reed. 
 
 83 
 
WHAT IS THE USE? 
 
 OWHAT is the use to look forlorn ? 
 O what is the use to groan 
 O'er the sins of the world and the woes of the earth ? 
 
 And what is the use to moan 
 When the flowers all drop their leaves ? 
 
 It is better by far to smile, 
 For the heart of the mortal who sits and grieves, 
 Grows selfish and hard the while. 
 
 And what if the days are cold and dark. 
 
 And the life is full of fear ? 
 Will the wailing and sighing bring warmth and give light. 
 
 Or help you at all, my dear ? 
 When the winter has spent its blast, 
 
 Then the coldness will pass away ; 
 When the star of the morning shines o'er the earth, 
 
 Then we know it is almost day. 
 
 O what is the use to be crying ? 
 
 O what is the use to groan ? 
 You can comfort some heart when your face is aglow. 
 
 O what is the use to moan ? 
 If the world is wicked, and vile 
 
 As the scum on a stagnant sea 
 Let your conduct and words and bright sunny smile 
 
 Give promise of what shall be. 
 
LIFE'S GOLD 
 
 LIKE a solemn warning knell 
 Glide the years away ; 
 Seems but yesterday 
 I was young ; 
 What a story I could tell 
 To the silent moon, — 
 Sickness, death, and gloom, 
 Things that stung. 
 
 Like a ringing, joyful bell 
 Comes the query sweet 
 O'er the bending wheat, — 
 Why be sad ? 
 What a story I could tell 
 To the lilies white, 
 Star-gleams, days of light, 
 Hearts made glad. 
 
 Like a softly singing shell 
 Laid against the ear, 
 Gathering all that 's dear 
 There to hold, 
 Is the story I will tell 
 To the hearts that weep ; 
 Thus my heart will keep 
 All life's gold. 
 
 8S 
 
FUTURITY 
 
 THERE are depths in the surging, foaming sea 
 That no fathom line can sound ; 
 There are stars in the far-off azure sky 
 That no mortal eye hath found. 
 
 There are thoughts in the restless mind of man 
 
 That no language can express ; 
 There are dreams in the quiet hours of night 
 
 That are more than happiness. 
 
 There are prints in the shifting sands of time, 
 
 There are signs of changes grand ; 
 There are flashes of light in the gloomy night, 
 
 There are signals on ev'ry hand. 
 
 We may strive in our frailty here to grasp 
 
 What the future has in store, 
 But the heights and the depths, the thoughts and dreams, 
 
 Are a part of the evermore. 
 
 Though the East and the West are far away, 
 
 And the shadows dark and deep, 
 Yet the Shepherd in love has kindly care 
 
 For His dazed and bewildered sheep. 
 
 86 
 
# 
 
 THAT CUTTING WORD 
 
 IT came like a flash from a summer sky 
 It sank in a heart like a leaden die ; 
 The impress was made like a brand of fire, 
 A livid mark from a living wire. 
 
 And no one will know the bitter tears 
 Or the homesick cry adown the years ; 
 Be careful, soul, of the words you speak, 
 For the time is short, and the flesh is weak. 
 
 87 
 
BE STRONG IN GOD 
 
 WHEN thy heart is like an aspen 
 Trembling in the breeze, 
 And naught seems its restless yearnings 
 
 Ever to appease ; 
 Then, O soul, arise, be strong, 
 List, and catch the victor's song — 
 Be strong in God. 
 
 When thy friends seem cold and distant, 
 
 Not a word of cheer 
 Falling like a strain of music 
 
 On the listening ear ; 
 Then, O soul, arise, be strong, 
 List, and catch the victor's song — 
 Be strong in God. 
 
 Cast the weakness of thy nature, 
 
 Cast it all aside. 
 Send thy selfish thoughts and feelings 
 
 Outward with the tide ; 
 Then, O soul, arise, be strong, 
 List, and sing the victor's song — 
 Be strong in God. 
 
 What if sunlight has departed 
 
 With its warmth and glow, 
 What if floods have made wild havoc 
 
 In their overflow ; 
 
 88 
 
Then, O soul, arise, be strong. 
 List, and catch the victor's song — 
 Be strong in God. 
 
 What will matter in the ending, 
 When the conflict 's o'er ? 
 
 Things that trouble now will trouble 
 Never, nevermore. 
 
 Then, O soul, arise, be strong. 
 
 List, and catch the victor's song — 
 Be strong in God. 
 
 89 
 
IN THE GLIMMER OF THE SHADOWS 
 
 TN the glimmer of the shadows 
 A Dancing on my library floor 
 There are volumes all unwritten, 
 
 Truths of grandeur held in store ; 
 Though the book-lined shelves are heavy 
 
 With the works of great in thought, 
 Yet the humble patient toiler 
 
 Knows there 's more that may be wrought. 
 
 In the glimmer of the shadows, 
 
 In the beauty of the day, 
 There are poems bright with fancy, 
 
 Stories that the feelings sway ; 
 And they come and touch the heart-strings 
 
 Till they throb with joy and pain, 
 And the pen is made to picture 
 
 What is stamped upon the brain. 
 
 In the glimmer of the shadows 
 
 Of this earth-life, fitful, strange, 
 There are tears and wails and sighing. 
 
 There is darkness, there is change ; 
 But the beauty of a sunlight 
 
 That will know no shade of night 
 Soon will flood the world with glory. 
 
 God is everlasting light. 
 
 90 
 
SOMETIMES 
 
 SOMETIMES, sometimes a trial comes, 
 That seemeth strange. 
 We think foundation-stones are sure, 
 
 And yet they change ; 
 And they will change, unless those stones 
 
 Are living stones, 
 All else will crumble 'neath life's tears. 
 Its sighs and groans. 
 
 Sometimes, alas, sometimes we lose 
 
 Our confidence 
 In what we thought was sure and true. 
 
 We question, Whence, 
 Aye, whence and why the blow that struck 
 
 And gave such pain ? 
 We ask the winds, and they reply : 
 
 "Ask not again." 
 
 Sometimes, O woe, a human hand 
 
 Seems pushing down. 
 Instead of pointing to the cross 
 
 And to the crown. 
 Sometimes a word would mean so much. 
 
 A loving look 
 Would find a record far on high 
 
 In God's own book. 
 
 Alas, for us, sometimes we judge, 
 We point the way 
 
 91 
 
For other feet to walk, we mark 
 
 What others say ; 
 It is for us to patient be, 
 
 Yet oft we ail, 
 It is for us when seeing good 
 
 To cry, " All hail." 
 
 92 
 
THE WALK TO EMMAUS 
 
 J 'T~^ WAS a rugged road to a little town, 
 
 J. And the day far spent, and the sun nigh down, 
 
 That two men walked. 
 Those men were sad in that long ago, 
 Their hearts were crushed with an awful woe, 
 
 And thus they talked : — 
 
 " Lo, a king we loved, and had thought would reign 
 Has been crucified, and our hopes are slain. 
 
 Darkness o'er all ! 
 We long to behold our Lord again. 
 Our grief has become an aching pain, — 
 
 Wormwood and gall." 
 
 And beside them there, one they loved — unknown — 
 Conversed with them in a tender tone 
 
 And accents kind. 
 With quivering lip and tearful eye, 
 With many a fear and many a sigh. 
 
 They asked his mind. 
 
 And he told his thoughts, till their hearts were stirred. 
 And they felt the truth of the things they heard — 
 
 The words he said. 
 From prophecies he bade them see 
 That Christ must rise in victory. 
 
 Though He were dead. 
 
 Soon the journey o'er at the even-tide. 
 And the travelers plead, " Come, with us abide. 
 We long for light." 
 
 93 
 
He broke the bread, and when 't was blessed, 
 They knew their Lord, and lo, their Guest 
 Vanished from sight. 
 
 All the weariness and hunger gone, 
 With the news of hope to hearts forlorn 
 
 The hills they trod. 
 A story sweet was the tale they bore ; 
 Their lips repeated o'er and o'er, 
 
 " Our risen Lord." 
 
 As we read, our hearts with gladness burn, 
 And the lesson true for us to learn 
 
 Is love, not fear. 
 The Christ we know is the Christ of then — 
 The Light of Life, and the Life of men — 
 
 Our Saviour dear. 
 
 94 
 
LIGHT BEYOND 
 
 THE crimson light of a sunset sky 
 I never see, 
 But sunny thoughts of a summer clime 
 
 Come home to me. 
 The earth grows dim with the fading day, 
 
 But softly gleams 
 A star of hope which is real and true 
 And not in dreams. 
 
 Like sunset clouds in their gorgeousness 
 
 Spread o'er the sky. 
 The rainbow hues of this earthly life 
 
 All fade and die. 
 But gladness comes with the morning light 
 
 And morn will dawn — 
 For years ago in a manger stall 
 
 The Christ was born. 
 
 The hands we 've clasped in the long ago, 
 
 The lips we 've kissed, 
 The eyes that shone with a tender light, 
 
 The love we 've missed. 
 Are not like notes with a vanishing swell, 
 
 Or lights that wane, 
 But fragrant flowers gone out on the tide 
 
 To come again. 
 
 95 
 
THE TREMOR OF TROUBLE 
 
 A MUSICIAN sat at his organ, 
 And his playing was perfect, in tune, 
 But the chords were as cold and unfeeling 
 
 As the rays of the dim, wintry moon ; 
 But when trouble came in like a whirlwind, 
 
 Then his fingers swept over the keys 
 With a light soulful touch and a pathos 
 Like the prayer of a saint on his knees. 
 
 The tremor of trouble gives sweetness 
 
 To whatever is born in the heart, 
 And its imprint is seen in the paintings 
 
 That are ranked as the noblest in art. 
 The pastor who reaches his people 
 
 Is the one who has tasted their woe 
 For eloquence only is ashes 
 
 Without comfort or warmth to bestow. 
 
 Then welcome the sorrow that cometh 
 
 Though it causeth the tear and the sigh. 
 It will soften and sweeten your nature, 
 
 'T will uplift and 't will purify. 
 On the top of the battlements golden 
 
 Are a host of the angels of light 
 Who will corne when the heart is smitten 
 
 To banish the shadows of night. 
 
 96 
 
# 
 
 THE BOW OF PROMISE 
 
 A RAINBOW round the throne I see, 
 It meaneth much to you and me, 
 The red is symbol of Christ's blood, 
 That touches, cleanses sin's dark flood. 
 And saves the soul. 
 
 The blue reminds us of the blow 
 That bruised Christ's cheek when here below 
 The green, the freshness of the grace 
 That gives a glory to the face 
 Of him who prays. 
 
 Humility, the violet, — 
 And all the arch in colors set 
 Above man's hatred, far above, 
 Shines forth a symbol of God's love, 
 O Saviour mine ! 
 
 O bow of promise, circling there 
 Around the throne in colors fair, 
 O let thy glory be unfurled 
 Forever o'er our little world 1 
 O Jesus, come ! 
 
 97 
 
IDEALS 
 
 ERE night her mantle throws o'er land and sea, 
 The sun with loving fervor kisses oft 
 The Alpine heights, until they blush and glow 
 And all the sky is red with answering flame, 
 And rainbow hues float up and down yon peaks 
 Like fairies dancing in the moonlight bright, 
 But soon a change is seen. The earth and sky 
 Cast off their gorgeous robes and don dull gray. 
 An ashy paleness creeps o'er peak and dome 
 And cold the mountains stand like bergs of ice 
 With all their beauty dead and passed away. 
 
 And thus is life. Its ideals seem as gay 
 
 As yonder sunlit hills, and weave their threads 
 
 Of crimson, blue, and gold around the forms 
 
 We love and o'er the hearts and homes of youth, 
 
 O summer hours ! O golden days of peace ! 
 
 Why will ye fade and take away our joys ? 
 
 O cruel cloud ! O darksome night of pain ! 
 
 Why brood ye o'er the hills and vales of earth ? 
 
 Why dampen life's rich garb with drops of woe ? 
 
 In vain we struggle against the bars of fate, 
 
 Till grieved and stunned and bruised we feel those bars 
 
 Fall on the soul crushing our bright ideals. 
 
 O child of earth why tune thy harp below 
 When all its strings give but a dirge at last ? 
 Oh, hear ye not the grand sweet song of love — 
 The everlasting love of Christ our King ? 
 
 • 98 
 
O ideal life, yet real and soon to be 
 Our own, our very own, if we are true. 
 Then help us Lord, to rise and as we rise 
 To weave around our souls the rainbow hues 
 Of thy high throne above, and gather rays 
 Of light to shed o'er those who yet are slaves. 
 
 99 
 
FORSAKEN 
 
 A LIVING death is that heart-death 
 Which leaves another lone, 
 Forsaken by the one it loves, 
 A bird whose mate has flown, 
 
 And yet men smile and women laugh, 
 
 And curl the lip in scorn, 
 Before the one thus left to weep 
 
 In misery forlorn. 
 
 O great cold world ! O icy face ! 
 
 Bereft of love once felt, 
 Thy gates are brass, thy look is stone. 
 
 Nothing thy heart can melt. 
 
 Yet dear one left, be comforted, 
 
 Gethsemane may be 
 A place of anguish, but beyond 
 
 Are life and love for thee. 
 
THE HORROR OF A GREAT DARKNESS 
 
 THERE are times in our lives 
 When our lights grow dim, 
 And the Lord seems afar 
 When we call on Him, 
 And we feel, as we kneel, 
 
 The horror of a great darkness. 
 
 There are ways that are drear 
 
 To our aching eyes. 
 And we fain would lie down 
 
 'Neath the gloomy skies 
 And rebel ; and repel 
 
 The horror of a great darkness. 
 
 And we cry in our pain. 
 
 In our inmost heart, 
 For we feel in our soul 
 
 The blood-drops start. 
 And we know all the woe, — 
 
 The horror of a great darkness. 
 
 Just one thing can avail 
 
 When the night is here : 
 Pray in faith to the Lord 
 
 Till the lights appear. 
 And the day drives away 
 
 The horror of a great darkness. 
 
HOW TO BE REFRESHED 
 
 IF yon fair plant should listless say, 
 "I '11 fold my glossy leaves to-day 
 And have no part in giving shade 
 For fear my garment bright will fade," 
 Think you it long would stand serene ? 
 Clothed in its robes of living green ? 
 
 Ah no, the sun could give no light 
 
 To leaves all folded from its sight ; 
 
 The wind could send no breath of air 
 
 To foliage hidden with such care. 
 
 Though clouds should drop their cooling showers 
 
 Those buds could never swell to flowers. 
 
 If we should close our hearts and hands 
 And fasten them with golden bands 
 And have no part in heaven's great plan 
 To rescue lost and sinful man, 
 Think you we long would grow in grace 
 Or see the shining of God's face ? 
 
 Ah no, our souls would shrink away 
 Unless we cleared "the King's highway." 
 The water brooks that freely flow 
 Make hillsides green and roses grow. 
 The generous heart is always blest, 
 By giving we may be refreshed. 
 
# 
 
 LIFE'S DISCIPLINE 
 
 THE flowers lift their tiny heads 
 And simply grow, 
 Although the beating of the rain 
 
 Oft lays them low, 
 And like a slowly swinging bell 
 
 The day and night 
 Succeed each other in their course — 
 Now dark, now light. 
 
 The mighty trees send down their roots 
 
 By waters wide, 
 The nestling birdlings try their wings 
 
 Beside the tide ; 
 But no resistance there is found — 
 
 God works His will 
 Through trees and days and buttercups 
 
 And daffodil. 
 
 And thus should we give up our ways 
 
 And simply grow 
 In grace and strength and godliness, 
 
 For all we owe 
 Our God will pay, and lead us on 
 
 To conquer sin ; 
 Though ours the battle, ours will be 
 
 The discipline. 
 
 103 
 
THE FACE AT THE WINDOW 
 
 WHEN weary with the toils of day 
 I sped my gladsome, homeward way 
 This thought gave wings unto my feet : 
 My darling mother I shall meet, 
 Her face will be at the window. 
 
 And now what comfort it would be 
 To see her waiting there for me, 
 
 Waiting to open wide the door. 
 
 I long to clasp her form once more, 
 To see her face at the window. 
 
 But she is gone, the house is changed 
 And everything is rearranged. 
 
 And other hands are busy there. 
 
 No more a gleam of silver hair. 
 No more her face at the window. 
 
 O mother loved, thy rest is sweet. 
 No more for thee the noonday heat. 
 
 No more the pain of widowhood, 
 
 No more a life not understood, 
 No more thy face at the window. 
 
 But by and by, O blessed thought, 
 When Jesus comes for His blood-bought, 
 Then through the glory will appear 
 The face of mother, mother dear 
 I 've seen so oft at the window. 
 
 104 
 
# 
 
 ROYALTY 
 
 YON sky was radiant with the hues of morn ; 
 The air was sweet. 
 The mists were climbing yonder hills afar, 
 
 And near my feet 
 A tiny stream was flowing on and on. 
 
 The meadows green 
 Were dotted o'er with starlike daisies white 
 And June was queen. 
 
 The sky soon changed its garb to one of gray, 
 
 The air was chill, 
 The mists had dropped their crowns upon the hills ; 
 
 And at my feet 
 A mighty river moved majestically. 
 
 No birds on wing. 
 The daisies were in graves beneath the snow; 
 
 Winter was king. 
 
 A child was playing near its mother's knee, 
 
 Its laugh was sweet 
 As songs of birds, or tinkling of a bell ; 
 
 Its tiny feet 
 Had not as yet found thorns on which to tread ; 
 
 Its eyes had seen 
 No gloom beneath the glow of summer skies ; 
 
 Mother was queen. 
 
 The child soon changed into an aged man, 
 His voice was weak ; 
 
 I OS 
 
His form as trembling as an aspen leaf, 
 
 Withered his cheek. 
 Life's gloom appeared, but through it gleamed alight. 
 
 His heart could sing. 
 A star had risen, blessed star of hope ; 
 
 Jesus was King. 
 
 1 06 
 
9 
 STRENGTHEN ME 
 
 A DOWN the shadowy vistas dim 
 Of years to come no more, 
 Lie phantoms of life's wasted days, 
 
 Like drift along the shore, — 
 A heritage of shattered nerves, 
 
 The sin of Adam mine ; 
 Yet to Thy arm, O God, I cling. 
 As to the oak the vine. 
 O strengthen me ! 
 
 Before me stand grim portals dark, 
 
 That must be opened wide. 
 And heavy weights oppress my feet, 
 
 That must be cast aside ; 
 I stretch my hands in weakness forth, 
 
 I struggle to brave ; 
 I turn to Thee, O mighty One, 
 
 For Thou alone canst save. 
 O strengthen me ! 
 
 strengthen me ! I know not now 
 What trials may await, 
 
 1 only know Thy strength for me 
 
 Is great, yea, very great, 
 And all things I can do through Thee, 
 
 O Jesus, loving Friend ; 
 Life's lessons may be hard to learn, 
 
 But they all upward tend, 
 O strengthen me ! 
 
 107 
 
THE STAR OF TRUTH 
 
 THE Christ-Child saw a star and said, 
 " It is a light 
 An angel holds within his hand. 
 
 It is so bright 
 I can not see his shining face, 
 
 But he is there, 
 And he shall be my guide, henceforth 
 And everywhere." 
 
 The years passed on, the Child, a Man, 
 
 Still saw the star — 
 The word of truth in all its power — 
 
 Shining afar. 
 He said, " I would the wandering sheep 
 
 Might it behold 
 And from the wilderness come forth 
 
 To find the fold." 
 
 And there beneath that star He knelt 
 
 Wrestling with wrong, 
 And angels came and ministered, 
 
 A holy throng. 
 He touched their wings and clasped their hands 
 
 And from God's throne 
 Obtained a strength and living power 
 
 To be His own. 
 
 And when at length above the cross 
 The sun grew dim, 
 
 . io8 
 
The Christ-Child still beheld that star 
 
 Shining for Him. 
 And still for us the Star shines on — 
 
 The truth divine — 
 And in our hearts as in His heart 
 
 That truth may shine. 
 
 109 
 
THINGS I LOVE 
 
 I LOVE to sit in the gloaming dim 
 And chant the words of some well-known hymn. 
 I love to look at the evening sky 
 And think what the stars may signify. 
 I love to list to the nightingale, 
 To hear the wind give a weird, lone wail. 
 
 I love to look o'er the placid sea 
 And fancy ships coming in to me. 
 I love to stand on a mountain height 
 And watch the birds in their upward flight. 
 I love to wander in woodlands wild 
 As when I wandered, a happy child. 
 
 I love to sleep in an attic bed 
 
 And hear the rain just o'er my head. 
 
 I love all grandmothers, kind and true, 
 
 I love all flowers of every hue. 
 
 I love all nature, to me it tells 
 
 A story sweet as the chime of bells. 
 
 I love the sinner the Truth to show, 
 I love to work with my Lord below. 
 I love the sound of a voice in prayer 
 That thrills the heart as it fills the air. 
 I love to comfort the sad and lone, 
 To hush the sigh and to check the groan. 
 
I love to think of the loved of yore 
 Whose forms I see in my home no more, 
 Remembered well every look and tone, 
 Alas, for the one that 's left alone ; 
 But sweet to think of the meeting place 
 When we shall see our Redeemer's face. 
 
CHRIST THE SONG 
 
 HARK ! a mother by the cradle 
 Sings a soft, sweet lullaby, 
 Sings of Jesus and His childhood, 
 And the angels hovering nigh ; 
 Sings, while praying, that her darling 
 
 May like Jesus live below, 
 May like Him be kind and gentle 
 And the seeds of wisdom sow. 
 
 List ! a soldier out in battle, 
 
 Dying there in awful pain, 
 Sings the words he heard in childhood, 
 
 Sings that same, soft, sweet refrain ; 
 And the angels gather round him 
 
 As they did in days of yore, 
 And he knows his pain is nothing 
 
 To the pain his Saviour bore. 
 
 Hark 1 't is grandpa now that 's singing, 
 
 Singing hymns of long ago, 
 Down his cheeks the tears are rolling. 
 
 And his voice is trembling, low ; 
 But he 's singing of his Saviour 
 
 With a happy, joyful heart. 
 And he sits in calm contentment 
 
 Ready, waiting to depart. 
 
 List ! the trees and birds are singing, 
 And the stars take up the strain, 
 
And the hills send back the echo, 
 Christ will come to earth again ; 
 
 Christ the noblest song of singers 
 Soon will give the perfect key, 
 
 And the sin which makes the discords 
 Evermore will cease to be. 
 
 "3 
 
NOTHING CAN MAKE US AFRAID 
 
 THE driving storm is sweeping past, 
 With drifting snow and mournful blast, 
 The awful pestilence is here. 
 And many hearts are filled with fear; 
 If our peace with God is securely made 
 Then nothing on earth can make us afraid. 
 
 Disease and death are in the land, 
 
 And thousands fall on every hand ; 
 
 Though plagues and famines here abound, 
 
 And wretchedness is all around. 
 If our peace with God is securely made, 
 Then nothing below can make us afraid. 
 
 The dreadful earthquake's quivering shock, 
 
 The sudden woe of hidden rock, 
 
 The bloody war and cruel strife, 
 
 Have not the power to mar the life ; 
 If our peace with God is securely made. 
 Then nothing below can make us afraid. 
 
 114 
 
# 
 
 WE ARE BUT INSTRUMENTS 
 
 THE mighty organ with its pipes and keys 
 Uprears its form in majesty, but gives 
 No voice, no sound, no tone, until 't is touched 
 By one who has the power to waken chords 
 Of music loud and grand, or sweet and low. 
 And we are instruments awaiting but 
 The touch of God. His Spirit in the heart 
 Calls forth deep waves of melody, — a part 
 Of His own life ; but we must yield ourselves 
 To Him, aye, passive lie beneath His hand. 
 
 "S 
 
LIFE WORK 
 
 A SONG was sung in the darkness, 
 In the sultry summer heat, 
 And hearts were touched by the music 
 
 For the song was passing sweet. 
 It told o ^-love and o courage, 
 
 And of strength to do and bear, 
 And souls were aroused by the singing 
 From the depths of dark despair. 
 
 A seed was dropped by the wayside 
 
 In the days of long ago, 
 A hand was reached to a brother, 
 
 And a word was spoken low ; 
 That seed sprang up in its beauty 
 
 And its flowers were scattered far, 
 That word enshrined in a heart-life 
 
 Was a gleaming, guiding star. 
 
 A word, a song, — and a life-work 
 
 Like a meteor-flash is o'er, 
 God grant that the song may keep throbbing 
 
 When the lips can sing no more. 
 A hand, a seed, and a harvest. 
 
 Amaranth and blue and gold, 
 A crown, a harp and a mansion, 
 
 And a glory all untold. 
 
 ii6 
 
# 
 
 CONSECRATION 
 
 NOT for earthly fame or greatness 
 Longs my soul ; 
 Yonder, where the starbeams brighten, 
 Is my goal. 
 
 Streams that freshen many meadows 
 
 Onward flow. 
 Vain the life that seeks completeness 
 
 Here below. 
 
 Oh, to have a present Saviour ! 
 
 This is more, 
 Yea, than all the gold and silver 
 
 Kept in store. 
 
 Jesus, life and spring of blessings, 
 
 Jesus, mine, 
 Jesus, take and use thy talents, 
 
 All are Thine. 
 
 117 
 
MY TREASURES 
 
 YOU ask me where my treasures are, 
 I point to sun and moon and star, 
 My treasures are afar 
 Beyond the broad expanse of blue, 
 Beyond the clouds of crimson hue 
 My treasures there accrue. 
 
 I store my wealth where naught can harm, 
 I never feel the least alarm, 
 
 'T is guarded by God's arm. 
 What are my treasures way up there ? 
 Treasures of money others share, 
 
 And garments others wear. 
 
 The pleasant word, the sunny smile, 
 The deeds that helped to reconcile. 
 
 The kindly thought the while. 
 'T is sweet to know, 't is sweet to feel, 
 I have a wealth time will reveal, 
 
 A wealth no thief can steal. 
 
 And I am heir to land and gold. 
 My treasures never will be sold, 
 
 No one can them withhold, — 
 A city grand with pearly gates, 
 A mansion for my soul awaits 
 
 That life illuminates. 
 
 ii8 
 
9 
 The graveyard holds most precious dust, 
 'T is kept for me in holy trust, 
 
 Our God is good and just ; 
 Sometime, somewhere I '11 find my own, 
 Though I may tread life's path alone. 
 
 We '11 meet before the throne. 
 
 119 
 
JESUS 
 
 SWEETER than the honey's sweetness 
 Is the full divine completeness 
 Of my Saviour's love. 
 Dearer far than earthly treasure 
 Is the joy that knows no measure, — 
 Heavenly joy above. 
 
 Closer to my soul and nearer, 
 More beloved by far and dearer 
 
 Is my Lord to me, 
 Than earth's fame so vain and fleeting, 
 Or the friends who give me greeting 
 
 On life's stormy sea. 
 
 Purer than the lily's whiteness, 
 Clearer than the noonday brightness, — 
 
 Jesus, Saviour, mine. 
 Come, O come in all Thy beauty. 
 Let Thy love make every duty 
 
 With Thy glory shine. 
 

 SYMPATHY 
 
 IF your soul were in my soul's stead, 
 O say, would you speak as you do ? 
 If your heart felt all my heart's pain, 
 O think how 't would seem unto you. 
 
 If your feet stood where my feet stand. 
 How firm do you think they would be ? 
 
 If your home were just like my home, 
 O, what would you say then to me ? 
 
 If your soul were in my soul's stead, 
 Are words that to you have been given. 
 
 Let your voice be sympathy's voice. 
 And 't will be an echo from heaven. 
 
 121 
 
MY SONG 
 
 A SONG I 'd write for remembrance 
 What shall it be ? 
 The hidden music of the heart — 
 
 Life's mystery ? 
 A song that 's memory-haunted 
 
 With measures low ? 
 
 Or one now wild and thrilling, 
 
 Then solemn, slow ? 
 
 I take a sunbeam for a lyre 
 
 And touch the strings 
 And try to wake the chorus sweet 
 
 That nature sings ; 
 My listening ear soon quickly finds 
 
 A note is there 
 That moans and sobs and echoes forth 
 
 The world's despair. 
 
 I take the harp of God's great love 
 
 And chords respond 
 That vibrate through my inmost soul 
 
 And far beyond ; 
 Till heaven and earth are brought so near 
 
 The arches ring, 
 And I can almost hear the notes 
 
 The angels sing. 
 
BEAUTIFUL NAME 
 
 BEAUTIFUL name, I see it now, 
 Made out of tears and sighs, 
 Standing for sacrifice, 
 Letters that gleam like stars of gold, 
 Twisted in straw from manger old, — 
 Beautiful name of Jesus. 
 
 Beautiful name, in earth and sky, 
 Sounding from harp-strings low, 
 Shining in fires that glow, 
 Breathed by the flowers both night and day, 
 Blest be that name, yea, blest for aye, 
 Beautiful name of Jesus. 
 
 Beautiful name enwrought in blood, 
 Piercing the heart of sin, 
 Letting the sunshine in, 
 Salvation, Salvation to men. 
 Amen and amen and amen, — 
 Beautiful name of Jesus. 
 
 123 
 
YE SHALL BE COMFORTED 
 
 YE shall be comforted, 
 O soul in sorrow deep. 
 Ye shall be comforted, 
 
 O ye who mourn and weep 
 As a mother soothes with song, 
 When the path is rough and long, 
 Ye shall be comforted. 
 
 Ye shall be comforted, 
 
 By One who knows all pain, 
 
 Ye shall be comforted. 
 That comfort will remain, 
 
 For the Father of our Lord 
 
 Of all comfort, is thy God. 
 Ye shall be comforted. 
 
 Ye shall be comforted. 
 That ye may onward go. 
 
 Ye shall be comforted 
 To comfort those in woe, 
 
 For the trouble that was thine 
 
 May become a strength divine. 
 Ye shall be comforted. 
 
 124 
 
IF I SHOULD DIE 
 
 T DO not care to die, for life is sweet, 
 
 *^ But death is here, 
 
 An enemy forever on my track, 
 
 Forever near. 
 If I should die, I ask not for a throng 
 
 To crowd around 
 To gaze upon my face, to see me lowered 
 
 Into the ground. 
 
 I ask not for the epitaph of fame 
 
 When I am dead, 
 I care not for the flattering words 
 
 That may be said ; 
 I would the poor that I have helped, 
 
 The sick and sad 
 Might say with tears beside my bier : 
 
 " She made me glad." 
 
 If I should die, I ask my friends 
 
 To kindly speak. 
 Forgetting all the things that grieved 
 
 And made us weak ; 
 And looking on beyond the days 
 
 And years to come, 
 Think of the promise of our Lord, 
 
 The mansion-home. 
 
 125 
 
A DRAMA OF LIFE 
 
 A TINY babe in trailing robes of white ; 
 A fragrance as from roses in their bloom ; 
 A day-dream sweet with tender notes of love, 
 And bright with beauty born in lands of song ; 
 A discord in the music sounding far ; 
 A quivering of the pulses as with pain ; 
 An unseen conflict in the darkness dire ; 
 A wounded heart, a burden, and a groan. 
 A touch of hands, a sympathetic thrill ; 
 A holy hush, a prayer, a tear, a sigh ; 
 The murmur of a surging, moaning sea ; 
 A boatman for his own, and all is o'er. 
 
 A soft, rich radiance in the earth and sky ; 
 
 A freshness in the air, a burst of song ; 
 
 A throng of shining angels, pearly gates, 
 
 And all the glory of a city fair, 
 
 Long, long foretold. Wide open graves, fair forms 
 
 Ascending high, repeating o'er and o'er : 
 
 " Praise ye the Lord ! Praise ye the Lord, for aye ! " 
 
 And all the hills and all the trees and all 
 
 The universe take up the glad refrain : 
 
 " Praise ye the Lord ! Praise ye the Lord, for aye ! " 
 
 126 
 
NOBILITY OF HEART 
 
 He who can suffer wrong and still 
 Be calm, and gentle, kind. 
 Has in his heart that which some seek 
 
 And seeking never find ; 
 'T is not the common throng that thus 
 
 Stand on the plains above. 
 But here and there a loyal one 
 Whose every thought is love. 
 
 And why not found by all who seek ? 
 
 Because 't is sought within — 
 'T is sought where wickedness abounds,- 
 
 In self, and self is sin. 
 Nobility of heart must come 
 
 From heaven's own lofty throne, 
 And only by repentant ones 
 
 Is truly sought and known. 
 
 127 
 
AT EVENTIDE 
 
 THE crystal glow of the sleeping lake, 
 The brightening gleam of the sky, 
 The dreamy hush of the twilight hour, 
 The whip-poor-will's plaintive cry. 
 Wake broken chords of forgotten song 
 
 That wander through heart and brain,- 
 The song of childhood, the song of love, 
 A tender and sweet refrain. 
 
 O years like dew in the morning sun, 
 O shadowy scenes of the past, 
 
 Your visions are like a tangled web, 
 Like wrecks on the seashore cast. 
 
 We gaze, and gazing can never find 
 The beauty for which we sigh ; 
 
 We upward reach and grasp but the air. 
 We call and there 's no reply. 
 
 But life is more than a phantom dim. 
 
 If we hope for much and aspire. 
 'T is faith that points to the things unseen, 
 
 And lifts the feet from the mire. 
 In self there 's never a stepping-stone 
 
 To heights of yon blessed goal ; 
 The Teacher true and the Helper kind 
 
 Is Christ, who would save the soul. 
 
 128 
 
THE MORNING COMETH 
 
 FOR years and years the night of sin 
 Has flung its shadows dire 
 O'er all the earth, and anxious hearts 
 
 Have felt the Spirit's fire, 
 And cried in faith, " O Lord, how long 
 Before Thy saints will sing the song 
 Of sunrise and of cheer ? " 
 
 The careless watcher oft mistakes 
 
 The signs of dawning day, 
 But not the humble child of God ; 
 
 For tears have washed away 
 The dust of unbelief, and he 
 From God's own Word can clearly see 
 
 The signal-lights appear. 
 
 The morning cometh 1 Lift your heads, 
 
 O children of the King ; 
 Look up, rejoice, and know for sure 
 
 That life is on the wing. 
 And crowns will sparkle on thy brow. 
 The Lord Himself will thee endow, 
 
 And glory meet thy gaze. 
 
 The morning cometh ! Ye that sleep 
 
 In dusty beds, awake, 
 And ye in ocean caves, arise ; 
 
 For hill and vale will quake, 
 
 129 
 
And with the coining of the day, 
 The power of death will pass away, 
 And smoothed be all life's maze. 
 
 The morning cometh ! Shout, O earth, 
 For soon thy garments gray 
 
 Will all be changed, thy deserts bloom, 
 Thy clouds all pass away ; 
 
 Thy chilly winds no more will be. 
 
 And all thy hills in jubilee 
 Rejoice o'er Jesus' reign. 
 
 The morning cometh ! O be glad. 
 
 Ye angels of the Lord ; 
 O worlds unnumbered, earth, and sky. 
 
 Unite in thanks to God ; 
 For when the rainbow of His love. 
 Which circles round the throne above, 
 
 Comes earthward, 't will remain. 
 
 130 
 
GLORIFIED 
 
 SOMETIMES when the sun o'er the hills is gleaming, 
 The rays turn to crimson and gold in beaming, 
 Like rainbows to fragments shattered, 
 With bits of their splendor scattered 
 Till peaks seem glorified. 
 
 Sometimes when a word of good cheer is spoken 
 To hearts that are crushed until well-nigh broken, 
 The shining of angel faces 
 Through the far-off open spaces 
 
 Makes life seem glorified. 
 
 And soon will the King of kingdoms be bringing 
 His own from the dusty old graveyards ; with singing 
 They '11 rise to the glory above, 
 To meet the dear Saviour they love. 
 And all be glorified. 
 
 And not in the glamour that comes of dreaming, 
 And not down the vista of simply seeming 
 Will be the Eden of flowers — 
 The garden entwined with bowers — 
 When earth is glorified. 
 
11 1912 
 
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