■ « « LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. yt-jnr^ §|ap. iujping]^ !f u* Shelf. .2.i.|-ri^ ., UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 'i^-'/:^^'^' .^W-'^'? ^jfe?^^ mi^i ^^i?^ ^i^^^- '•^m^: ,^^.^/ ^.x'^^C. Ko % \o Hidden Sweetness. "Oh, when shall it be fully granted me to see how sweet Thou art, my Lord God ! " — Thomas a Kempis. By MARY BRADLEY. E\)z Iillustrations FROM DRAWINGS BY DOROTHY HOLROYD. ■'" IJO 'OCT 17 188! ) BOSTON: ROBERTS BROTHERS. 1886. \ Copyright, 1S85, By Roberts Brothers. ©nibcrsita ^rcsB: John Wilson and Son, Cambridge. Behold ! I show you a mystery. — 1 Cor. xv. 5L TO ALICE, IN HEAVEN. " Hast thou forgot The love wherewith we loved of old ? " CONTENTS. PAGE The Hidden Sweetness 11 A Canticle of Spring 13 " My Times are in Try Hand " 16 In Darkness IS In the Sunshine 20 The Precedent 28 My Grape-Vine 25 His Advent 29 The Song in the Dark 31 An Eastern Story 34 The Example 37 Comforted 40 Summer Winds 44 The King's Advent 46 In Silence 49 "Thy Law" 51 The Eirefly 54 Reclaimed 55 The Mystery 56 Angels' Wings 60 Returning , 62 Hist of Illustrations. PAGE Dedication — " Behold, I show you a mystery " iv "Hidden Sweetness" — Blackberry Blossoms 11 Heading for " Canticle " — Daffodils 13 FooTPiECE FOR " Canticle " — Apple-blossoms 15 Heading for "My Times" — Violets IG Heading for " In Darkness " — Pussy-willows and Alder-tassels IS FooTPiECE FOR " In Darkness " — Pussy-willows .... 19 Heading for " In the Sunshine " — Snowdrops 20 Heading for "The Precedent" — Hepatica 23 "My Grape Vine" — Clover 25 Heading for " His Advent " — Lilies 29 Heading for "The Song in the Dark" — The Singing Bird 31 Footpiece for " The Song in the Dark " — Nest .... 33 " An Eastern Story " — Myrtle 34 Heading for " The Example " — Clover 37 Heading for "Comforted" — Bird 40 Footpiece for "Comforted" — Nest 43 X List of Illustrations. PAGE FooTPiECE FOR " SuMMER WiNDS " — Daisies 44 Heading for "The King's Advent" — Iris 46 Heading for " In Silence " — Wild Roses 49 Heading for "Thy Law" — Narcissus 51 Heading for "The Firefly" — Hawthorn 54 Heading for "Reclaimed" — Pansies 55 Heading for "The Mystery" — August Lilies 56 Heading for " Angels' Wings " — Holly 60 " Returning " — Dandelion Puffs 62 Nest — Finis 64 Hi. THE HIDDEN SWEETNESS. "Oh when shall it be fully granted nie to see how sweet Thou art, my Lord God ?" Imitation of Christ. We need no special grace to see The sweetness that around us lies In homes where happy children be, In birds and brooks and summer skies ; Even when sorrow folds her wings In dumb persistence by our hearth, Still we can feel what blessed things Make beautiful the earth, .4>i m W'/: ^J^ :^4. 12 The Hidden Sweetness. And thrill responsive to the sense Of every lovely influence. But ah ! how faintly we are stirred By things divine, whose voices seem As ineffectnally heard As voices in a dream ! We praise Thee with our lips, and yet The while we cry, " How sweet Thou art ! " It is as though a seal were set Upon our eyes and heart. The sweetness that we might possess We see not, and we feel still less. Lord, unto whom our dull desires Are known, and every hindering sin, Kindle anew the fervent fires That ought to glow our souls within; The sorrowful days are here again When Thou wert in the lonesome wild, In prayer, in fasting, and in pain For us unreconciled. Give to us now, Christ, to see How wholly sweet thy love can be! A CANTICLE OF SPRING. " all ye Green Things upon the earth, bless ye the Lord; praise Him, and magnify Him forever!" O GREEN iipspringing grass, your tender freshness spreading By many a narrow pass where way-worn feet are treading: lightly waving trees., whose swelling leaf-buds render Undoubted promises of the full summer's splendor : golden daffodils, whose lovely sunlit faces Brighten the barren hills with unexpected graces : 14 A Canticle of Spring. all ye blossoms set the woods and meadows over, Windflower and violet, and columbine and clover, — Bless ye the Lord on high, by field and fell and river, Praise Him and magnify His holy name forever ! Now when the budding spring escapes from winter's durance, Hope hath its flowering, and faith its sweet assurance : How shall our hearts be sad when Nature's face rejoices, And earth and air are glad with her tumultuous voices ? Ears that His message seek and doubt not in possessing. To them the winds shall speak in undertones of blessing ; And to the seeing eyes His wondrous works beholding. No little bird that flies, no small green thing un- folding, But doth His love express who shall our souls deliver, Whose holy name we bless and magnify forever ! Praise Him, O soul of mine, nor ever cease from praising, Though olive-tree and vine be blighted in the raising; Though flood and frost and fire assail me in one morning. And though my heart's desire shall perish without warning ! A Canticle of Spring. 15 Still shall His rivers flow, the heavens declare His glory, Still shall His green things grow, the winds repeat their story ; And I who sit to-day beneath the cloud of sorrow, And see no opening way to sunshuie for the morrow, Still by His mighty word upheld for fresh endeavor, Will magnify the Lord, and bless His name forever ! "MY TIMES ARE IN THY HAND." I NEED not care If days to come be dark or fair, If the sweet summer brings delight Or bitter winter chills the air. No thought of mine Can penetrate the deep design, That forms afar, through bud and bloom, The purple clusters of the vine. I do not know The subtle secret of the snow. That hides away the violets Till April teaches them to blow. '■''My Times are in Thy Hand'' 17 Enough for me Their tender loveliness to see, Assured that little things and large Fulfil God's purpose equally. How this is planned, Or that, I may not understand: I am content, my God, to know That all my times are in Thy hand. Whatever share Of loss, or loneliness, or care Falls to my lot, it cannot be More than Thy will for me to bear. And none the less, Whatever sweet thing comes to bless And gladden me. Thou art its source, — The sender of my happiness. Add this to me. With other gracious gifts so free, That I may never turn my face In any evil hour from Thee ; Nor on the sand Of shifting faith and feeling stand ; But wake and sleep with equal trust. Knowing my times are in Thy hand. IN DAEKNESS. Oh for the seeing eye, Oh for the hearing ear, To know, though bitter blasts go by. Though stormy clouds are in the sky, That God, my God, is near! Darkness and sore dismay Have compassed me about: As one who in a lonesome way Longs for the breaking of the day To put his fears to rout, — Yet knows that day, alas ! Will only show more plain The rugged road he has to pass. The frowning rocks, the black morass, The danger and the pain, — In Darkness. 19 So I, from hour to hour, A dreary path have trod: — Oh, but to feel the quickening power That in the sunshine or the shower, Still draws me up to God! Give me a little space. Lord of my life, to see The tender sweetness of Thy face; And suffer in this darksome place One gleam of light to be. Sorrow and loss and pain Have been my frequent share, Yea, and will be my share again; But shall I wring my hands in vain For blank, unanswered prayer? Give me the seeing eye; Give me the hearing ear; And with Thy comfort satisfy The yearning heart, till liy and by I find my Saviour here /■'J ti^l. IN THE SUNSHINE. / / But yesterday, in dank and sodden plight, My neighbor's garden lay beneath the rain ; "f The flowers, storm-beaten, hid their bloom from sight, "^ And not a rose-bud showed its tender stain, Nor in the sky was one faint streak of blue To charm my wistful eyes the long day through. Sadly I heard the sighing wind complain, The melancholy drops fall from the eaves ; And sick at heart, with an unutt;ered pain, I looked out on the world of wet o;reen leaves, In the Stmshine. 21 Longing for night to blot it all away, And cheat me with sweet dreams of a new day. But when night came I paced the lonesome room, Still with impatient murmurs on my tongue; "0 heart," I cried, "why should it be thy doom With such a sordid sorrow to be wruno- And wherefore is it that for me and mine Nor roses bloom, nor happy sunbeams shine? "Sweet may the dawning of a new day be; But what delight is it for one who goes In shaded paths and flowerless, to see His neighbor's garden blossom like a rose ? No garden-ground is mine ; no joy begun Wakes to fulfilment with the rising sun." To-day, as from my window's height I lean, To see my neighbor's roses far below, I wonder how such envious thoughts and mean (That shame me now) found ever room to grow, So light of heart, so wholly glad am I At the mere sight of God's fair earth and sky ! Only the same world it was yesterday, — The care, the grief, the burden, all remain; 22 In the Stmshine. Yet their dull discontent has slipped away; The sun is shining where before was rain ! And in its wholesome light my heart's unrest Turns into faith that all is for the best. Since God hath willed that some shall dwell at ease. And others shall know hardness, this is sure: The lot that fits each nature He foresees, And wherefore murmur when we must endure ? Some day His loving wisdom will be plain As the sweet sunshine following after rain. THE PRECEDENT In stately limitations set Some lives flow onward, calm and pure, AY bile others all the strain and fret Of shifting currents must endure. They who against the cruel tide Forever seem to toil in vain, And with the sunshine close beside, Stand in the shadow and the rain, — What wonder if they bear their part Sometimes with but a sorry heart? The flesh is weak, and sore dismayed; The spirit falters in its trust: The One who seems so slow to aid — Are all His dealings kind and just? Is it a father's part to see One child outside, forlornly cold, The while he shelters tenderly Another in his garment's fold ? 24 The Precedent. "This is no loving father's care!" They cry out, sullen with despair. Who shall explain the weary ways So many patient feet have trod ? Or who account for the delays And dumb indifference of God ? Not I, indeed — I only know Christ had not where to lay his head; He suffered hunger long ago, And pain, and grief uncomforted ; No creature lives and dies forlorn, But Christ his utmost woe has borne. And if the Father hid His face From him forsaken, cannot we Abide in darkness for a space, Nor wring our hands impatiently ? "Touched with the feeling of our pain,"- O tenderest Heart that ever beat! Bend down to comfort us again, — The hearts that tremble at thy feet; And let us find in thee indeed Help for the saddest hour of need. MY GEAPE-VINE. SiGiiiXG I said, when warm west winds were blowincr " The gracious summer has no gifts for me ; I shall not see her wildwood blossoms growinof On vine or tree ; " I shall not wander where her purple clover, And where her daisies make the meadows gay, Nor be aware of sweet airs wafted over Her new-mown hay ; 26 My Grape-Vine. " I shall not hear, for all my soul rejoices In every cadence of the tender strain, The mingled music of her many voices ; Its low refrain " Of droning bees, and locusts sharply shrilling, And brooks that murmur to their tuneful fall ; Nor yet the rapture of her bird-songs thrilling High over all. "I that delight in shadowy woodland places The stony pavements of the town must tread, And see the blue of heaven in measured spaces Above my head. " While all the summer's bloom and lavisli beauty Are spread afar for other eyes to see, Shut in by city-walls the path of duty Is marked for me." I did not know — faint heart and unbelieving ! — The while I murmured at a needful thing, What dear delight, to shame me for such grieving. My vine would bring. My Grape- Vine. 27 Betwixt the stones it had to grow and flourish, — The stubborn stones that barely let it pass, Nor left enough of ejarden-mould to nourish One blade of grass. Yet how it grew — so tall and fair and greenly ! And all its liberal leaves and clusters spread In such luxuriance, one forgot how meanly Its roots were fed. Each wandering wind that made the young leaves shiver Stirred tender odors, delicately sweet ; And when the July air was all a-quiver With fervent heat, "VVliat coolness lingered in my vine's embraces, What lovely shadows wavered to and fro ! Making me dream of woods, and breezy places Where wild-flowers grow. All sumro.er long, — until the lamentation Of sad November stripped the branches bare, — My grape-vine brought me gracious compensation For many a care. 28 My Grape- Vine. " Behold," it mutely said, " my green profusion, Behold the ripening clusters where they hang. And bear in mind the prison-house seclusion From whence they sprang." Now wintry winds around me are complaining. And naked to the trellis clings the vine ; But its suggestions, comforting, sustaining, Shall still be mine. I may not have such blossoms fair for showing, Or perfect fruit ; but this at least I see, — That narrow limits need not bar from growing The vine — or me ! HIS ADVENT. " The king is coming ! strew the way With branching pahus and lily-llowers Let banners wave in proud array, And mirth and music crowd the day Through all its rosy hours." So spake the people long ago; But when indeed the King had come, There was no rushing to and fro, No trumpet-call or pompous show, And every voice was dumb. For lo, within a manger-bed He lay, a little naked child; No glory was about him shed Save that above his crownless head A vircjin mother smiled. 30 His Advent. What would the world of such a kmg? Away with him ! their high-priests cried ; Nor ceased until — ah, cruel thiuo; ! — An eager crowd came hurrymg To see him crucified. High-priest and populace did meet With one accord their king to slay: They pierced his hands ; they nailed his feet ; There never was so sad and sweet A sight before that day. For he who hung upon the tree With his last breath their sin forgave, Even while they gibed him scornfully — "Others he saved, forsooth, but see! Himself he cannot save." Ah, King divine ! whose worth indeed The world unworthy never knew, — Dost Thou still live to intercede For creatures blind to their own need, Who know not what they do ? The wise and learned answer nay ! But babe and suckling let me be, Content to know no more than they, If so I can but find the way O King, that leads to Thee ! THE SONG IN THE DARK. I HEAKD a little bird sing out one morning While yet the darkness overspread the sky, And not a single streak of rose gave warning That day was nigh. It sang with such a sweet and joyful clearness, The silence piercing with a note so fine, That I was thrilled with sudden sense of nearness To Love divine. •' weary heart " (it seemed to utter), " hearken ! God sends a message to you in my song : The day is coming, though the shadows darken, And nirfht is long. 32 The Song in tJie Dark. " God sees your eyelids heavy — not with slumber ; The sorrowful tears that make their brightness dim, And all your patient prayers no man can number, Are known to Him. " The day shall come, your darkness dispossessing : " And while the bird sang, on my eyelids prest Soft weights of sleep, the weary brain caressing To happy rest. I slept as children sleep, tired out with crying, — God knows, not I, when I had slept before ! I waked to find the blessed sunshine lying Along the floor. And in its gracious light to see returning The face of one that was the world to me, The face my heart with desolate grief and yearning Had ached to see. The day had come indeed ! O sweetest singer, The song you sung me in the dark was true, And would that I could be as swift a bringer Of joy to you ! Your nest should rock in greenest branches, truly. And there your shy brown mate and downy brood Should chirp to you, and spread their winglets duly. Nor lack for food. The Song in the Dark. 33 No cruel sportsman ever should l)eset you, No sudden tempest ever cause affright, Nor any ill that birds are heir to, fret you By day or night. Vain wish, alas ! and valueless completely ; For whether it was blackbird, wren, or lark, Or silver-throated thrush that all so sweetly Sang in the dark, — I never knew. You never more came near me, Yet surely I may leave you to His care Whose tender pity sent your song to cheer me In my despair. AN EASTEKN STOEY. Once in the hush of eventide, Wlien daylight tasks were put aside, And dew and coohiess after heat Made the sweet stiUness doubly sweet, The Master walked in Galilee; His footsteps followed by those three Who afterward on Olivet Watched with Him in His agony. They had no dread foreboding yet Of that dark hour; the world was bright With sunset splendor; and its light Seemed in their peaceful hearts to dwell, — Till suddenly a slant ray fell Upon an object in their path That stirred up quick, unreasoning wrath. An Eastern Story. 35 A dead dog, hideous in decay, Mangled, and foul with blood and dust, Prone in the trodden high-road lay — A sight, hi deed, to rouse disgust. And the disciples, justified By their offended senses, vied Each with the other to express Scorn of the creature's loathsomeness ; Nor, till at length the Master spake. Were either of them moved to make One little pitiful pause, wherein Some kindlier utterance might have been. He, listening, silent for a space. Bent down to the disfigured head. As one who seeks some hidden grace: Then, with a calm, uplifted face. And something in His sorrowful eyes That caught their hearts up with surprise, "Pearls are not half so white," He said, "As the dog's teeth," And went His way. Whereat the three in mute dismay Glanced at each other. Sudden shame Reddened their brows ; and as a flame Leaps to the wind, the kindling fire Of penitence and swift desire An Eastern Story. Leaped in their breasts with one accord, And proved itself in deed, not word. With willing hands that put aside All the reluctance of their pride, They dragged the dead dog from the mire Wherein it lay, to a green place ; Where, with strewn leaves and branches rent From the thick olives, its disgrace They hid from future passers-by. Then eagerly, with look askance That dreaded, yet besought His glance. They to their Lord again drew nigh. To find His brief displeasure spent. And in His gracious smile to meet A recompense exceeding sweet. Sweet is the hidden truth that lies Too deep, perhaps, for careless eyes, In the old story. For who knows — Since a dog's teeth His praise could win — What inward grace may be in those Lost souls that out of reach of care, Beyond our pity and our prayer. Seem dead in trespasses and sin ? THE EXAMPLE. Haply along life's weary ways, Thickset with uncongenial tasks. Some overweighted toiler stays His hand from labor, while he asks : "Wherefore shall I these burdens bear That others ought, at least, to share? " I, since the day's march was begun, Have spent my strength, nor turned aside From any service to be done, Nor grudged my pleasures, self-denied; Yea, I have even counted gain, For the work's sake, my loss and pain. "But now my soul is vexed; for why Should duty have no law for these 38 The Example. Who with averted looks pass by, Or sit with folded hands at ease ? Why should I suffer more than they The heat and burden of the day ? " How many a spirit fretted sore AVith the world's cold indifference, Has turned such questions o'er and o'er. Still haunted with the restless sense Of doubt and wondering distrust: Would these things be if God were just ? Ah me ! the ways of God with men, No man that lives can find them out ; Who grasps at things beyond his ken. Is tossed on shoreless seas about. Yet in the thickest of the night. For eyes that see there shall be light. What time we nurse our discontent — Eather, instead, should we recall How once in servants' guise He went Who was the Master of us all ; Nor any work whereby was wrought The Father's will, too irksome thought. The Example. 39 Need any be disquieted Whose hearts tliis memory enclose ? Who follows where the Lord hath led, What matter is it where he goes ? For working with Him side by side, The meanest task is glorified. COMFOETED. Theee was a time when Grief with me Kept close and tireless company : A new and most unwelcome guest, He sat beside me day and night, And robbed my pillow of its rest, And spoiled the sunshine of its light, And tilled the hours of night and day With an unspeakable dismay. I could not part with G-rief, alas ! For he had "taken up the room" Of one whose innocent fair face Was hid in an untimely tomb. Grief still " the absent child " expressed. And did her winsome ways repeat. And torture me with all the sweet Lost loveliness I had possessed. Comforted. 41 And so we two walked side by side — No friends, indeed, but yet allied In such wise that I could but choose To let him fill my empty arms ; Wherefore all bright things that did use To bring me pleasure, lost their charms. The dawn rose red for me in vain, And the soft patter of the rain On April leaves, awoke no sense Of its old gladsome influence. There was no beauty in blue skies, Or greening earth, for my dull eyes ; Though once, if but a little bird Above its new-made nest should sing. With sudden rapture I was stirred; And the whole wonder of the spring One purple violet could bring. One night, with Grief, I closed my eyes. And had no other thought Init he Would waken with me presently. But Grod is gracious ; God is wise Beyond our knowledge. In the dim Hushed hours betwixt the darlc and light There came a messenger from Him That of my Grief bereft me quite. 42 Comforted. I know not how to paint the sight That blest my eyes, or make you see The vision that was sent to me. For oh ! it was the child that came, And called me softly by my name, And clasped me with the little white Warm hands that clung to me of old, And nestled in my garment's fold. A dream, you think ? Well, may be so ; But none the less God's messenger; For while I lay, — afraid to stir, Lest the sweet dream should from me go, — The child, that only uttered here Such inarticulate trills and coos As nestling birds and babies use, Began to speak strange words and clear : Strange words, but clear; which, should I try To put in speech of mine again, It would be effort spent in vain. This was a language of the sky. Which, just for once, I understood. Because, my God, Thou wert so good, And suffered one sad heart to see How narrow-souled and dull we are, That make our selfish love a bar Betwixt these little ones and Thee. Comforted. 43 Wliereat — though it was but a dream, That vanished ere the east was red — The one sad heart was comforted; Nor since, do I and sorrow seem So fitly mated as before. For in my daily tasks once more I find content. And little thhigs, — The wavering shadows on the wheat. The scent of flowers, the whir of wings, — Bring back a sense of something sweet. As vague, as fair, as sweet as these, The vision was that came to me, Whose nameless charm the shadow is Of something exquisite to be. Ah ! when in some unearthly sphere Of perfect lo^•e and bliss complete. The child and I once more shall meet, How like a dream it will appear That Grief and I were comrades here ! SUMMEE AVINDS. Sweet are the summer days that come with tender shining, Sweet are the wandering winds that visit me repining ; The bloom, the song, the grace of all the year they capture. And fill this desert place with unimagined rapture. Prisoner of hopeless pain, in lengthening chains I languish ; Day still renews the strain of night's unuttert'd anguish ; Summer Winds. 45 I lie beneath His rod, His bolts and bars surround me, Yet the sweet winds of God with healing touch have found me. welcome wind that comes His gracious law fulfilling, In you the brown bee hums, the sky-lark's song is thrillmg ; Voices of wood and field your whispering voice discloses, And in your breath revealed I find the summer's roses. They have not lent their bloom to comfort me more nearly. And in my silent room no bird has carolled cheerly ; Yet while your light caress, wind of Heaven, woos me, Nor rose nor singing bird its sweetness doth refuse me. Blow through my fevered brain, soft breath, and cool its burning ; Speak, soothing voice, again, and hush the wild heart's yearning ; Though in the floods I stand, and deep waves overflow me. Show me my Father's hand. His loving-kindness show me. Truly I will not doubt that love shall yet avail me, My fear I will cast out, nor let despair assail me : Blow, summer winds, away the black cloud of repining. My heart lies still to-day to feel the tender shining. THE KING'S ADVENT. " Tell ye the daughter of Zion, Behold, thy King cometli unto thee, meek, and sitting U2)on an ass." Thus spake the heaven-sent messenger To Zion's daughter ; and she heard, But laughed to scorn the warning word, For what was such a kmg to her? " The monarch that hath rule with me, Swift she made answer haughtily, " Comes in no mean disguise like this ; But with a royal retinue, And with the pomp and honor due Alike to my degree and his. Go to ! ye prophets that foretell A sovereign so contemptible ! " And Zion's daughter, fair and proud. Smiled with a bitter smile to hear The Kinzs Advent. The ignorant tumult of the crowd As the meek king foretold drew near. "Fit monarch for a rabble rout," She spoke disdainful. " Let them shout Hosannas now ; full soon their cry Will ring as loudly, Crucify ! " Came one amidst the gathering throng Whose heart had suffered cruel wrong ; Whom want and woe had driven to sin. Until the tale of life had been For many an evil year the same Dull round of wretchedness and shame. Men gibed at her; and women drew Their garments closer, lest the stain Of some uncleanness might remain From a chance touch. But pressing through, Heedless of both, she reached His side, And fell upon her knees, and cried, "Art thou the King in truth? King! Have mercy on a wretched thing, Too vile to venture any plea Save its exceeding misery ! " Men scoffed at her despairing cries, And women flashed their virtuous scorn 48 The Kinzs Adveiit. '