POEM S 
 
 OF 
 
 ISr^ZARETU 
 
 AND 
 
 THE CROSS. 
 
 BY WILLIAM ALLEN, D. I)., 
 
 I' 
 
 Author of Christian Sonnets. 
 
 7ty- 
 
 { 
 
 A^ 
 
 NORTHAMPTON: Tt\o9=>.jj 
 PUBLISHED BY BRIDOMAN & CHILDS. 
 
 1S66. 
 
 ^' 
 
Metcalf <fc Company, Printers, 
 Northampton. 
 
POEMS 
 
 OF 
 
 NAZARETH AND THE GROSS. 
 
 NAZARETH. 
 
 In all the blazing stars of light 
 In the wide universe is found 
 No honored spot like that fair ground, 
 
 Where dwelt the all creative Might. 
 
 For by God's Word, blest Mary's Son, 
 The earth and heavenly worlds were made, 
 • And all their wondrous forms displayed : 
 He only spake, and it was done ! 
 
 To this low world of ours he came 
 
 The Lamb of sacrifice to be, 
 
 To save the lost from misery, 
 From all their sin, and guilt, and shame. 
 
 Uprising, his great work was done : 
 Then through all worlds of yonder sky 
 Was there not heard one joyous cry — 
 
 " O'er sin Christ's victory is won !" 
 
rOEMS OF NAZARETH'. 
 
 CHRISTMAS MORNING. 
 
 Could we but strike the fittins- strinaj 
 Of Gabriel's harp this joyful morn, 
 In which our Saviour, Christ, was born, 
 
 Ourootesthroughheaven'shigh arch would ring,- 
 
 " Glory to God supreme, most high ; 
 
 Peace to earth's warring race below ! 
 
 From God to men what mercies flow !" — 
 Such songs once filled the bright, blue sky. 
 
 For on this morn in manger laid 
 
 Was God's own Son and Mary's Son, 
 In brightness greater than the sun 
 
 And blazing stars, his hands had made. 
 
 Gaze, pilgrim, now upon the Cross ! 
 
 There hung, while sun is veiled in night, 
 
 The sacrifice of God's delight, 
 Redeemer of our soul's great loss. 
 
 Though he foresaw^ the agony 
 
 Of every blow and nail-crushed nerve, 
 His steadfast spirit did not swerve : 
 
 For man's great guilt it needs must be ! 
 
 But soon the grave his power doth know ; 
 He bursts the tomb, and wn'ngs his way 
 Up to his home in heaven's bright day. 
 
 Where purest joys eternal flow ! 
 
POEMS OF NAZAEETH. 
 
 Strike, all 5^e angels ! Strike again, 
 Ye ransomed souls, your harps of gold 
 In praise of Jesus' love untold, 
 
 Whose death is endless life to men ! 
 
 MOUNT TABOR. 
 
 God made the mountains : therefore praise 
 Be given to Him, whose works we see, 
 
 As on our stream and mount we gaze, 
 On hill and vale, on rock and tree. 
 
 Of beauteous Holyoke's range of peaks 
 Why is there one before the eye. 
 
 Which plainly of blest Nazareth speaks. 
 Where dwelt the Saviour from on high? 
 
 Its rounded head, wood-crowned, and mien 
 Are like to Tabor's far-famed height, 
 
 From Nazareth by Jesus seen, 
 
 And always seen with new delight. 
 
 Shall it not bear then Tabor's name ; 
 
 And when it meets the gladdened view, 
 Will it not kindle up the flame 
 
 Of love to Mary's Son anew ? 
 1* 
 
6 POEMS OF THE CROSS. 
 
 JESUS ON THE CROSS. 
 
 Lo, upon the cross outstretched, 
 Sacrifice for sinners wretched, 
 
 Jesus, Son of God, doth hang ! 
 See the Saviour droop and languish, 
 As he dies in bitter anguish, 
 
 While the angelic host thus sang— 
 
 " Glory to our God be given 
 By the blessed ones in heaven 
 
 For his love to man below ! 
 Streams of grateful song and praises. 
 Like the light, which e'er outblazes. 
 
 Ceaseless shall to Christ outflow !" 
 
 Sure we are the face of Jesus 
 Glad to see, as he sees us. 
 
 When the rising day shall come j 
 Mary's Son to us descending, 
 We with Him to Heaven ascending 
 
 To our high, eternal home ! 
 
POEMS OF THE CROSS. 
 
 JESUs' LOVE. 
 
 Jesus, unchanging friend, 
 
 How much he loves ! 
 
 His grace no time shall end. 
 How much he loves ! 
 
 From heaven to earth came down ; 
 
 Divested of his crown, 
 
 He makes our woes his own. 
 How much he loves ! 
 
 He bears upon the tree. 
 
 How much he loves ! 
 Its torturing infamy. 
 
 How much he loves ! 
 By blood for sin to atone, 
 Though he himself Grod's Son, — 
 In counsel they but one, — 
 How much he loves ! 
 
 Fear not death's transient throes. 
 
 How much he loves ! 
 From dead man's tomb he rose ! 
 
 How much he loves ! 
 The first-born from death's night. 
 He comes in glorious might 
 To be his friends' delight ; 
 How much he loves ! 
 
8 POEMS OF THE CROSS. 
 
 Christ's love. 
 
 Blest Jesus, God's own Son, 
 The sharer of his glory, image bright, 
 His agent in all works his hands have done, 
 
 Jehovah's heart's delight. 
 
 Why to the earth came He, 
 Leaving high heav'n, in this dark world to dwell, 
 Man's form to take with taste of misery 
 
 His low tabernacle ? 
 
 'Twas love ! and love alone, 
 That changed his wealth to such amazing loss, 
 By his own blood for sin of man to atone. 
 
 Dying upon the Cross. 
 
 Such love was ne'er before 
 In the wide universe of worlds made known: 
 For this the Son, the Saviour, we adore, 
 
 And God upon his throne. 
 
 The dead now lives again. 
 And rises to the heaven, his glorious home, 
 Whence he, the victim for our sins once slain, 
 
 The Judge of men will come ! 
 
 His doom each man must meet : 
 The righteous in new bodies, like his bright, 
 He now will lead to his own blessed seat 
 
 In heaven's eternal light ! 
 
POEMS OF THE CROSS. 
 
 LOVE TO JESUS. 
 
 Jesus, when we read thy story, — - 
 " Low descending from thy glory 
 
 As God's Son in heaven above, 
 In man's flesh to live a mortal, 
 On the cross to find death's portal 
 
 In thy wondrousness of love," — 
 
 (Furthermore the truth's narration — ) 
 " Life to give and soul's salvation, 
 
 Endless life with thee on high," — 
 Oh what gratitude now moves us ! 
 Oh what grace, that now approves us, 
 
 As thy foil owners to the sky ! 
 
 Not a fable this of dreamer ! 
 'Tis thy truth, blest Redeemer ! 
 
 Thee we worship as our King ! 
 Thee we praise with love e'er growing ; 
 And while cycles still are flowing, 
 
 Songs of thee in heaven we'll sing ! 
 
 THE SOEROWS OF MARY. 
 
 how sad and how afflicted 
 She, of whom it was predicted, 
 
 " All man's race shall call thee blest !" 
 Sees she not her Son engored — 
 Though God's Son to be adored — 
 
 By death's agonies oppressed ? 
 
10 POEMS OF THE CROSS. 
 
 Was she not most deeply groaning, 
 Was she not most wildly moaning, 
 
 On the Cross as Jesus hung ? 
 All her tears and sighs now failing, 
 Prayers and cries all unavailing, 
 
 Was her heart with anguish wrung. 
 
 Let thy Cross, blest Redeemer, — 
 Not a lie of wildered schemer, 
 
 Be my hope in death's dark hour. 
 Give me, Lord, thy glorious feature. 
 When the trump wakes every creature. 
 
 Saved by thee forevermore. 
 
 V 
 
 On this scene did Gabriel ponder, 
 
 His whole soul struck down with wonder ? 
 
 Who is He, that bears this woe ? 
 Is this He, God's Son from heaven, 
 Holiest hands with nails all riven, 
 
 How came He such pain to know? 
 
 Thanks and honor, glory, blessing, 
 Ceaseless praise to Christ addressing, 
 
 Who for us left God's own skies. 
 When to life by thee restored, 
 Jesus, Son of God, adored, 
 
 We shall dwell in paradise. 
 
POEMS OF THE CROSS. 11 
 
 LOYE TO CHEIST. 
 
 Oh what love to thee is owing 
 For thy mercy overflowing, 
 
 To thee, Jesus ! now on high ? 
 By thy blood, for us now pleading, 
 By thy prayer, now interceding, 
 
 Thee we'll love eternally ! 
 
 Oh what blessedness is given 
 To poor sinners raised to heaven ; 
 
 Oh what raptures of the soul ! 
 Nought shall men redeemed dissever 
 From their Saviour : never ! never ! 
 
 While unceasing ages roll ! 
 
 Near thy brightness, as it blazes. 
 We on high shall sing thy praises. 
 
 Filled with wonders of thy love : 
 Thou art Zion's king victorious, 
 And thou wilt hold thy throne most glorious, 
 
 Grod's own Son in heaven above ! 
 
 JESUS OUR KIXG. 
 
 Who is the purest Light ? 
 
 Jesus our King. 
 Who is the Truth most brisrht ? 
 
 Jesus our King. 
 He is to Life the Way, 
 That never leads astray. 
 Life of our souls alway, 
 
 Jesus our King. 
 
12 POEMS OF THE CROSS. 
 
 Of Mary blest was born 
 Jesus our King, 
 
 To save a world forlorn, 
 Jesus our King. 
 
 God's Son from heaven on high 
 
 Came down on earth to die, 
 
 Our sacrifice to be, 
 
 Jesus our King ! 
 
 THE PRINCE OF PEACE. 
 
 The glorious Prince of Peace 
 
 Makes raging wars to cease 
 Through all the circuit of our earthly round ; 
 
 He snaps the bended bow, 
 
 And cuts each spear in two, 
 And quells the brazen trumpet's fearful sound ; 
 He burns up in the fire each chariot wheel, 
 And every sword is chang'd to plowshare's gleam- 
 ing steel ! 
 
 Now fade away from sight 
 
 Squadrons in armor bright, 
 The harvest field no more to trample down ; 
 
 Fled is the chief of pride, 
 
 For whom ten thousand died, 
 In the fierce shock of battle overthrown ; — 
 And ne'er again shall conqueror build his fame 
 Of bones of slaughtered men, a tower of guilt and 
 shame. 
 
POEMS OF THE CROSS. 13 
 
 But men, with hearts of love, 
 
 Enkindled from above, 
 From every earthly tribe each other greet, 
 
 And 'neath the calm, blue sky — 
 
 God's Crystal Palace high — 
 Hold joyful, undisturbed communion sweet ; — 
 Their good deeds, beautiful and matchless bright, 
 All spread around and gladdening to the gazer's sight. 
 
 And then one song they raise, 
 
 A song of rapturous praise 
 To Christ, the victor o'er all crime and woe ; — 
 
 * To Him, who by his blood 
 
 Redeem'd us to our Grod, 
 
 And all his wondrous love hath made us know, 
 
 Be honor, power, majestic glory given, 
 
 While firm fore'er shall stand the pillared arch of 
 heaven ! ' 
 
 cheist's love to man. 
 
 In foresight of his Cross of woe 
 Christ to his Father's will bowed low. 
 Such love was never seen again — 
 Love of the Lamb, for us once slain. 
 
 The Son of God came down to save 
 From sin and from a hopeless grave, — 
 To bring immortal life to light, 
 And cheer us with glad hopes most bright. 
 2 
 
14 POEMS OF THE CROSS. 
 
 The heart depraved the Spirit's power 
 Eenews, transforms in chosen hour ; 
 Else must the sinner meet his fate, — - 
 All hope of man most desolate. 
 
 THE CROSS BEYOND VALUE. 
 
 Paul deemed all gold but worthless dross, 
 Compared with treasures of the cross, 
 And all philosophy but dreaming, 
 When dwelt he on the Love Eedeeminsr — 
 
 'O 
 
 The love of him, whose earthly home 
 Was Nazareth in Mary's dome, 
 Who on the Cross outpoured his blood, 
 For sin a sacrifice to God. 
 
 For him was Paul prepared to die, 
 Assured to meet him in the sky, 
 When rising from his narrow bed 
 With the glad company of dead ; — 
 Whose triumph o'er his foes is sure ; 
 Whose name forever shall endure. 
 
POEMS OF THE CROSS. 15 
 
 SONG TO CHRIST. 
 
 God's Son, at bis right hand enthroned, 
 By angel powers unparagoned, 
 Thee we adore, thy praises sing, 
 Jesus, our Saviour and our King! 
 
 Didst thou not come from heaven above 
 To dwell with man in wondrous love, 
 Thy blood upon the Cross to shed. 
 And quicken into life the dead ? 
 
 Help us, Lord, thy gospel's light 
 To send to men in sin's dark night, 
 That they with us may find the way 
 To mansions of eternal day, — 
 
 With angels and thy blood-bought throng 
 To join in sweetest, rapturous song 
 Of God supreme upon the throne, 
 And Thee, his image and his Son ! 
 
 GOOD FRIDAY. 
 
 In this wide universe did e'er 
 
 Such wondrous love divine appear. 
 
 As when from Jesus' lips we hear, 
 
 '* Not my own wnll but Thine be done ! " 
 
16 POEMS OF THE CEOSS. 
 
 In view of all His agonies, 
 
 When for man's guilt a sacrifice, 
 
 ' Tis thus to God our Saviour cries — 
 
 " Not my own will but Thine be done ! " 
 
 We need God's chastening hand alway ; 
 Then let us learn from Christ to pray : 
 In Christ's own words shall we not say, 
 " Not my own will but Thine be done ! " 
 
 If here my last of time is nigh, 
 
 And, life though dear, I soon must die, 
 
 O God, enable me to cry — 
 
 " Not my own will but Thine be done ! " 
 
 JESUS THE WAY. 
 
 I am God's chosen way, 
 
 Saith Mary's Son, 
 Which never leads astray, 
 
 Saith Mary's Son : 
 The Way to Life above. 
 Where all is peace and love 
 From which no footsteps rove. 
 
 Says Mary's Son. 
 
POEMS OF THE CROSS. ]7 
 
 Hear ye the Saviour's voice — 
 
 " I am the v^ay ! " 
 Make ine your soul's glad choice : 
 
 " I am the Way" — 
 To where my friends v^ill come, 
 Whence never one will roam, 
 From Grod's most glorious dome: 
 
 " I am the Way." 
 
 " I am the Way," 
 The Way to heaven most sure, 
 The light most bright and pure, 
 The Life for aye to endure : 
 
 *• I am the Way." 
 
 JESUS IS TEUTH. 
 
 Shines forth the sun most bright ? 
 
 Jesus is Truth, — 
 A far more glorious light; 
 
 Jesus is Truth. 
 
 There's not one blazing star 
 
 Among the hosts afar 
 
 With Jesus can compare : 
 
 Jesus is Truth : 
 2* 
 
18 POEMS OF THE CROSS. 
 
 Pure light from God on high, 
 Jesus is Truth ; 
 
 Light for man's heart, not eye — 
 Jesus is Truth ; 
 
 Light for the darkened mind, 
 
 Lio;ht to the wanderins: blind, 
 
 Imparting joys refined — 
 Jesus is Truth. 
 
 Then spread the Truth abroad — 
 
 Jesus is Truth. 
 'Twill bring this world to God, 
 
 Jesus is Truth, 
 From right no more to rove, 
 And fill all souls with love, 
 And lift to heaven above ; — 
 
 Jesus is Truth. 
 
 CHRIST THE LIFE. 
 
 ' Tis God's own Son, who says, 
 
 " I am the Life," 
 Author of suns, that blaze, 
 
 " I am the Life." 
 To all of us, who live, 
 Doth he our being give : 
 Then we his word receive, — 
 " I am the Life." 
 
POEMS OF THE CROSS. ' 1.9 
 
 Would we not live once more ? 
 
 " Christ is the Life." 
 V/hen this our race is o'er, 
 
 " Christ is the Life." 
 We say indeed we die : 
 In dust our bodies lie — 
 Away our spirits fly — 
 
 " Christ is the Life." 
 
 THE WAY, THE TRUTH, THE LIFE. 
 John 14 : 6. 
 
 Seek ye heaven's path most bright ? 
 
 Christ is the Way, 
 That ever guides aright ; — 
 
 Christ is the Way. 
 'Tis Jesus' blood alone, 
 God's dear and first-born Son, 
 For sin could e'er atone : 
 
 Christ is the Way. 
 
 The w^ords divine are true, 
 
 Christ is the Truth : 
 
 Such words the earth ne'er knew, 
 Christ is the Truth. 
 
 The nourishment of mind. 
 
 Full fount of joy refined. 
 
 As light to men born blind, 
 Christ is the Truth. 
 
20 POEMS OF THE CROSS. 
 
 By him were all things made ; 
 
 Christ is the Life. 
 In beauteous forms arrayed, 
 
 Christ is the Life — 
 His creatures own his power ; 
 By him sustained each hour, 
 By him forevermore ; 
 
 Christ is the Life. 
 
 JESUS IS LIGHT. 
 
 The world's great light, God's Son- 
 Jesus is Light — 
 Came from his heavenly throne, 
 
 Jesus is Light ; 
 To this dark world he came, 
 To save men from their shame — 
 Blest ever be his name ! — 
 Jesus is Light. 
 
 What brought him from above, — 
 
 Jesus is Light — 
 But pity, mercy, love? 
 
 Jesus is Light : 
 Upon the Cross to die, 
 Men's sacrifice to be. 
 To raise them to the sky ? 
 
 Jesus is Light. 
 
POEMS OF THE CROSS. 21 
 
 The truth then quick make known, 
 
 Jesus is Light ; 
 All errors thus o'erthrown, 
 
 Jesus is Light — 
 The earth will shout for joy; 
 The saved will sing on high 
 In strains, that never die, 
 
 Jesus is Light ! 
 
 ABRAHAM LINCOLN, 
 
 How he was led to the Cross. 
 
 Till hard affliction gave the blow, 
 I did not my Redeemer know ; 
 But when my Willie he struck down. 
 My soul he took as all his own ; 
 Then soon my heart's unmeasured loss 
 Led me to wonders of the Cross : 
 Henceforth I'll live for Christ, who died, 
 Henceforth to earth be crucified ! 
 
 SEVEN SHORT LESSONS FOR SUNDAY SCHOOLS. 
 
 I. 
 
 As Jesus by his Cross doth save. 
 He rising triumphs o'er the grave. 
 
22 POEMS OF THE CROSS. 
 
 II. 
 
 Have faith in Jesus and his Cross, 
 
 So shall no wind you " drive and toss." 
 
 III. 
 
 Shall we not deem all gold but dross, 
 Compared with Jesus on the Cross ? 
 
 IV. 
 
 " If ye for me shall take your Cross, 
 Fear not," saith Jesus, " any loss." 
 
 V. 
 
 As Jesus, when but 12 years old. 
 Was in his Father's service bold. 
 So take your Cross in early youth. 
 And stand up bravely for the truth. 
 
 VI. 
 
 Is Jesus on the Cross our hope ? 
 Then dying he to us will ope 
 The glories of his promised heaven. 
 To all his friends, believers, given. 
 
 VII. 
 
 Beyond each star of the dark night, 
 Is not the Cross of Jesus bright. 
 Outpouring on the darkest mind 
 Splendors of truth and joys refined ? 
 
POEMS OF THE CROSS. 23 
 
 i 
 
 "THE LORD OF ALL." 
 (Acts lU: 36.) 
 
 All hail the name of Zion's King ! 
 
 Angels adoring fall : 
 God's royal gift to Christ they bring, 
 
 And crown him *' Lord of All." 
 
 Whose voice but his all worlds of light 
 
 Did into being call ? 
 Then sure, sun, and stars of night, 
 
 Ye crown him "Lord of All ! " 
 
 Sinners redeemed, whose erring feet 
 
 His words from death recall, 
 Extol their Saviour, hail and greet, 
 
 And crown him *' Lord of All !" 
 
 Soon every tribe, which here may be 
 
 On this wide earthly ball, 
 To him shall give all majesty, 
 
 And crown him " Lord of All ! " 
 
 that with all heaven's blood-bought throng 
 
 We at his feet may fall ; 
 There join the rapt and endless song, 
 
 And crown him " Lord of All !" 
 
24 POEMS OP THE CROSS. 
 
 THE CHRISTIAN S HAPPINESS. 
 
 Such peace, and hope, and joys I know, — 
 Though mingled with a sigh, — 
 
 ' Tis good, I say, to live below ; 
 Yet better far to die. 
 
 Then shall I join heaven's countless throng, 
 
 All ransomed ones above, 
 And sing with thein the rapturous song 
 
 In praise of Jesus' love ! 
 
 THE HOPE OF SALVATION. 
 
 Does our hope on merit rest? 
 Ah for human pride unblest ! 
 Our best actions have a stain ; 
 All self righteousness is vain. 
 In redeeming blood us lave ; 
 Pity us, God, and save ! 
 
 CHRIST ON HIS THRONE. 
 
 Can we sinners, thankless be 
 For this Gospel Mystery, 
 While ansfelic hosts bow down, 
 Praismg Chris^t, who wears a crown, 
 Raised from death to heaven on high. 
 There to reign eternally? 
 
POEMS OF THE CROSS. 25 
 
 He, who hung a sacrifice, 
 Now bears sway in yonder skies ;- 
 Such reward to God's own Son, 
 Such the glory he hath won ! 
 All your trust in Him then phice, 
 In his wisdom, might, and grace. 
 
 zion's teiumph. 
 
 Soon give the kingdom to thy Son ; 
 Soon through the earth thy will be done, 
 As now by angel hosts above, 
 O thou, the God of grace and love ! 
 
 Let Truth, the orb of holy light. 
 Break on the earth's thick error's night ; 
 Then shall each w\aste beneath the skies 
 Be changed to joyous paradise. 
 
 From hatred, sin, war, misery, 
 Soon shall the Gospel set men free; 
 Then shall all Tribes, north, south, east, west 
 Lift up one shout, Jesus, be Blest ! 
 3 
 
26 POEMS OF THE CROSS. 
 
 TRUTH. 
 
 Fear not for Truth ! Tiiough foes assail, 
 Whims, theories, schemes, dreams, and lies 
 
 The blow, she strikes, shall never fail, 
 And smitten error sinks and dies. 
 
 Fear not for Truth ; her armor strong, 
 And quickly scattering every foe ; 
 
 And soon shall Zion lift her song 
 For error's fated overthrow ! 
 
 What are the visions, theories. 
 
 That lead the stupid dupes astray. 
 
 But cobwebs, that the spider plies. 
 
 Which touch of Truth shall brush away ? 
 
 As spiders from their bowels spin 
 
 The webs they form of slender tliread, 
 
 So from their brains their scheminsfs thin 
 The flimsy errorists outspread. 
 
 A single breath from Word divine 
 
 Shall blow away these thinnest lies, — 
 
 Whose holy work is this, but thine 
 To speak the Truth, when error dies. 
 
POEMS OF THE CROSS. 27 
 
 FOUR SCORE YEARS TO THREE SCORE YEARS 
 
 AND TEN. (Nov 3, 1864.) 
 
 Thy years three-score and ten this day ! 
 
 Thy youthful, poet-prophet's word 
 Of Truth's great conflict made display, 
 
 By which the soldier's soul is stirred. 
 
 '• Truth, crushed to earth, shall rise again : 
 The eternal years of God are hers ; 
 Bat error, wounded, writhes in pain, 
 And dies among his worshippers." 
 
 Bryant's Poems, p.2(i9. 
 
 Another ten of years be thine 
 
 With His great love, who came to save, 
 
 And ceaseless joys of truth divine 
 To cheer thy path-waj^ to the grave. 
 
 The hills the same to our young eyes, 
 The same the vales, that gave delight, — 
 
 The loved ones, passed to peaceful skies, 
 Shall we not join in glory bright? 
 
 Christ is " the Wat, the Truth, the Life ;" 
 He leads no trusting friend astray ; 
 
 His arm will end the valiant strife. 
 His grace give victor's crown for aye ! 
 
 To William Cullen Bryant, N. York, 
 
 From William Allen, Northampton, Mass., 
 both natives of Western Massachusetts. 
 
28 
 
 POEMS OF THE CROSS. 
 
 THE CENTURY JUBILEE 
 
 At Pontoosuck^ or Plftsfield, April 18, 1864 ; 
 
 100 years from the settlement of Rev. Thomas Allen. 
 
 No marble monument we raise 
 To bur first pastor's name and praise : 
 He wished no pile of polished stone — 
 Nought but our souls to Jesus won. 
 
 Pontoosuck from her early youth 
 Had earnest teacher of God's trutli : 
 For transfer of her sons to heaven 
 To God be all the glory given. 
 
 The warrior's fame how doth he gain ? 
 By blood of thousands, brothers slain : — 
 Bi'ave soldier of the Cross was he, 
 For whom we hold this Jubilee. 
 
 Our preacher's topics all in one — 
 
 The atoning blood of God's own Son : — 
 
 " The Cross ! the Cross ! Christ's Cross of love !"- 
 
 Shall we tlnis shout in heaven above? 
 
POEMS OF THE CROSS. 29 
 
 PITTSFIELD CELEBEATION 
 of July 4, 1865. 
 
 (Written by request of the Committee.) 
 
 Salvation, Lord, belongs to Thee, 
 Thou God of glorious majesty! 
 Our matchless victories are thine ; 
 Our Freedom thy great gift divine ! 
 
 Its cost has been the treasured gold, 
 And precious gems of worth untold — 
 Our SONS — outpouring in a flood 
 Their patriot heart's warm, noble blood ! 
 
 Thou givest now our country Peace — 
 Four million slaves our free increase ; 
 Yet one great gift do thou bestow, — 
 That Christ's pure Truth we all may know. 
 
 So may we ask the world to see 
 A ]\[odel Land of Liberty, 
 Where none e'er strikes at law a blow — 
 P^nipire, unequalled here below ! 
 3* 
 
30 tOE.VlS OP THE CROSS. 
 
 FOR THE MEETING OF THE GENERAL CONFERENCE 
 
 of the Congregational ChurcJies of Massachusetts, 
 at Northampton, Septemher 11, 1866. 
 
 Friends of Christ in closest union, 
 Meet we now in sweet conim union ; 
 
 Lord, prevent disharmony. 
 Thee we serve, our King, blest Jesus ! 
 And Thine eye of love now sees us, 
 
 As we meet to honor Thee. 
 
 Who but knows our '• Bay State "story — 
 Ocean wanderers, men of glory, 
 
 Pilgrims to the Plymouth Kock, 
 Braving every wild disaster, 
 Plere to bring Christ's truth, their Master? 
 
 We are sons of this good stock. 
 
 In the wilderness they planted 
 Holy Gospel, as they panted 
 
 Children's children's souls to save ; 
 They would have the truth to flourish ; 
 This they wished their sons to nourish, 
 
 While they slumbered in the grave. 
 
POEMS OF THE CROSS. 31 
 
 Late the trump of war was sounding, 
 With its terrors wild astounding; 
 
 But we met the battle's shock, 
 O'er the rebel hosts victorious, 
 Thine the gift of triumph glorious 
 
 To thy friends of Plymouth stock 
 
 Now with sin and error fio^htinsr, 
 In thy saving truth delighting, 
 
 We would spread thy gospel wide. 
 ' Tis thine arm thy foes o'erthroweth, 
 As each heart of ours well knoweth, 
 
 Arm of Him, who for us died. 
 
 Prince of Peace, o'er kings now reigning, 
 Late with blood their sceptres staining, 
 
 Has thy reign through earth begun ? 
 Let thy truth, all sin o'erthrowing. 
 Bend all hearts to Thee down-bowing 
 
 As the king of kings, God's Son. 
 
32 POEMS OF THE CROSS. 
 
 THE FAREWELL MEETING 
 
 oj the American Board of Comviissioners for Foreign 
 Missions, ai Vittsjield, Sept. 28, 1866. 
 
 We say farewell ; but we shall meet 
 
 In holy city's golden street, 
 Where Jesus is its temple bright, 
 
 Whom all adore, that dwell in light. 
 
 And all His friends with Him are one. 
 
 Sitting in glory on His throne. 
 Thy rod, Lord, from Zion goes, 
 
 Thy rod of strength to rule thy foes. 
 
 Thy people shall bow down to thee 
 
 In every land, on every sea ; 
 The proudest kings shall thee obey, 
 
 And fiercest warriors own thy sway. 
 
 To us the voice of Jesus calls, — 
 *' Go on to build fair Zion's walls, 
 
 For soon such labors will be o'er. 
 When all the earth shall me adore." 
 
 Make us thy faithful servants, Lord, 
 And send thy Spirit with thy word ; 
 
 Give us the joys of blood-washed throng. 
 Expressed in raptures of sweet song ! 
 
POEMS OF THE CROSS. 33 
 
 THE COAT OF ARMS 
 of Samuel Allen of Chelmsford, England. 
 
 On sable shield a golden Cross displayed 
 
 Imports to this dark world Christ's wondrous love, 
 Which brought the Son of Grod from heaven above, 
 
 To dwell on earth in human flesh arrayed, 
 
 And at life's close, by agonies ne'er weighed, 
 
 For man's deep guilt to atone. Let this emmove 
 Affection for God's Son, that ne'er shall rove. 
 
 With faith and zeal forever undecayed. — 
 
 So raised from death, transjDorted to the sky, 
 To ransomed ones this lot will sure be given 
 To dwell with Jesus near his throne in heaven, 
 
 Partakers of sweet joys, that ne'er can die. — 
 
 Compared with Christ count all things then but loss, 
 Nor glory save in Jesus and his cross. 
 
 THE CHRISTIAN CRUSADER. 
 
 " Bravely he the cross doth bear :" — 
 Cross on banner flaunting near. 
 Cross on helmet, cross on shield. 
 Fierce Crusader seeks the field. — 
 Christian ! Arm thee for the fray ; 
 " Boldly bear the Cross" alvvay. 
 
34 POEMS OF THE CROSS. 
 
 Doctrine of the cross maintain, 
 Tidings of a Saviour slain, 
 Till the infidel shall bow; — 
 Patient all life's troubles know : 
 Following Christ, thou sure shalt be 
 Near his throne eternally. 
 
 ON THE BURIAL OF PRESIDENT ABRAHAM LINCOLN 
 
 At Springfield, Illinois, May 4, 1865. 
 
 We bid thee welcome to thy home ! 
 In matchless honor hast thou come. 
 Thy triumph of a thousand miles 
 As eastern conqueror with his spoils, 
 A million hearts thy captives led. 
 All weeping for their chieftain dead ; 
 And when thy coffin rests a space, 
 What crowds press up to see thy face, 
 Expressing with affection true 
 All honored titles as thy due ! 
 Blest chief, a second Washington, 
 Thy race of honor thou hast run ! 
 
 A crown of honor God has sent 
 
 To our own martyred president : — 
 
 Our Union safe, our Country free ! 
 
 A model land of liberty, 
 
 A country, where the gospel truth 
 
 May reach the hearts of age and youth. 
 
POEMS OF THE CROSS. 35 
 
 THE FREEDMEn's THANKSGIVING HYMN. 
 Decemher 7, 1885. 
 
 Two centuries of mighty wrong, 
 Now see their end, O joyous song ! 
 Give thanks to God, for he is good, 
 His bounty is like ocean's flood v 
 His truth is light, his promise sure, 
 His mercy ever shall endure. 
 
 Full four years' war on our account 
 And wide-spread woes beyond amount 
 Have punished thus a nation's guilt — 
 The blood of near a million spilt ; — 
 Our masters and their sons have died. 
 And oh, what Northern friends beside ! 
 
 But now 'tis o'er : We're free ! We're free ! 
 To God all praise and honor be ! 
 Let us now learn God's holy word, 
 And yield our hearts in sweet accord, 
 And ne'er abuse our liberty 
 By deeds, which end in misery. 
 
 As Moses sent to Pharaoh 
 
 With word to " let the people go," 
 
 So Lincoln's voice was heard again — 
 
 " Ye tyrants ! break your bondmen's chain ! " 
 
 ' Tis done : for Johnson's zeal completes 
 
 God's aim of love, which naught defeats. 
 
36 POEMS OF THE CROSS. 
 
 Henceforth shall all our joys increase, 
 America a land of peace : 
 Give thanks to God, for he is good, 
 sing his praise in joyous mood ! 
 Give thanks to God of promise sure. 
 Whose mercy ever shall endure ! 
 
 THE CHRISTIAN SOLDIER. 
 
 (On the death of Spencer Phelps of Northampton, who fouglit in 
 the battle at Port Hudson, June 14, 1863, and died at tliat place 
 July 23d, aged 30. His comrades of the 52d Massachusetts regi- 
 ment on that day set out to return home, having first buried liini 
 under the Magnolia trees.) 
 
 With Christian armor all bedight 
 
 We mourn the patriot youth most bi'ave ; 
 
 He was prepared for bloody fight, 
 And ready for a soldier's grave. 
 
 No hardened infidel was he, 
 
 To whom the future was but gloom, 
 
 For he had grace God's truth to see, 
 While in his youth all virtues bloom. 
 
 Tt was a noble zeal and mood. 
 
 Which led him to his country's war ; 
 
 He therefore met with fortitude 
 His fate from his dear home afar. 
 
POEMS OF THE CROSS. 
 
 37 
 
 On Mississippi's banks he died, 
 
 Assured that he should live above, 
 
 Where flows fore'er in fullest tide 
 
 The stream of* heavenly joy and love ! 
 
 Then, v^^hile the riv^er of the West 
 
 Shall run its course unchans^ed and free, 
 
 The Christian soldier's name be blest, 
 Who sleeps beneath the Magnolia tree. 
 
 THE DYING SIGNAL OF JOHN KNOX. 
 (Knox died 1572, aged 67.) 
 
 Of Knox upon his dying bed 
 
 Last sign, ere yet his spirit fled, 
 
 Was asked : — if still, when fails his voice. 
 
 His soul in Jesus shall rejoice. 
 
 No need was there to ask such sign 
 Of presence of the grace divine, 
 For all his speech, as he lay low, 
 With faith and hope did overflow. 
 
 His watching friends with weeping eyes 
 Stand by him, as the good man dies; 
 They see the signal lifted high, — 
 The waving hand, the flag of joy ! 
 4 
 
38 POEMS OF THE CROSS. 
 
 THE GOSPEL FOR THE WORLD. 
 
 Jes^s reigns in brightest glory, 
 As foretold in sacred story, 
 
 O'er the earth his righteous sway ; 
 All man's idols he o'erthroweth, 
 And the seeds of truth he sovveth ; — 
 
 Praise his glorious name for aye ! 
 
 What great favors to us granted ! 
 Vast the holy churches planted, 
 
 Thick, in late a wilderness! 
 Wide the gospel truth's diffusion, 
 Scattering far each dark delusion, 
 
 All our fellow men to bless ! 
 
 THE FRIENDS OF MISSIONS. 
 
 " Through Jesus' blood salvation 
 For all man's guilty race ! " 
 
 Such is the proclamation 
 Of boundless love and grace. 
 
 And this we're still outsendins^ 
 To earth's remotest bounds, 
 
 Grifts, toils, and prayers blending, 
 Till triumph loud resounds. 
 
 The angels look with wonder, 
 As on the cross he dies, 
 
 Then bursts the tomb asunder, 
 And rises to the skies. 
 
POEMS OF THE CROSS. 39 
 
 His hands no longer bleeding, 
 
 He holds wide empire's rod, 
 For sinners intercedins: 
 
 Before the throne of God. 
 
 MISSIONARIES. 
 
 From home we wander not away 
 Earth's scenes of beauty to survey; 
 If soon we cross the perilous seas, 
 ' Tis not a curious eye to please. 
 
 ' Tis not for gains of merchandise 
 If we repair to torrid skies ; 
 But ' tis to obey the Master's voice, 
 And bid man's wretched tribes rejoice; 
 
 To spread his truth both far and wMde, 
 Ghid tidinirs to the crucified. 
 With justice, truth, and holiness 
 A world of hate and sin to bless : 
 
 To lead men in a righteous path, 
 And save from woe, and death and wrath. 
 We go to spread Christ's holy sway 
 Till all earth's princes shall obey : 
 
 'Till he shall rule as Peince of Peace, 
 And bloody wars forever cease, 
 Till all men's hearts are changed to love, 
 And earth is like to heaven above. 
 
40 POEMS OF THE CROSS. 
 
 MISSIONARIES. 
 
 Are we the soldiers of the cross? 
 Then dangers fear we not and loss ; 
 Our Jesus has all wealth and power, 
 And victory gives in dying hour. 
 
 Then go we forth in hope and joy, — 
 And not to ravage and destroy, 
 Like earth's fierce warriors, red with blood, 
 The desolaters of all good. — 
 
 We go Christ's holy truth to spread, 
 Which quickens into life the dead, 
 And fills the earth with peace and love, 
 New-shaping like to heaven above. 
 
 And oh what bliss beyond all thought. 
 Our Saviour's work completely wrought, 
 When all his ransomed ones on high 
 Shall join in songs eternally ! 
 
 MISSIONARIES DEAD. 
 
 Did Lyman, Munson suffer loss. 
 Our early soldiers of the cross, 
 Heroic youth, by pagans slain ? 
 Or was their death, Lord, but gain ?- 
 
POEMS OF THE CROSS. 4] 
 
 Dead men for Thee in holy strife, 
 Their great reward is endles life ! 
 These bright examples from our youth 
 Have drawn enlistments to thy truth, 
 
 Our sons and daughters dead for thee. 
 Transferred to heaven eternally ! 
 
 ON THE BIBLE. 
 
 Sendinsf forth a sflorious li2:ht, 
 
 Wide outgleaming, 
 Book of books, God's book most bright 
 Cheers my rapt and wondering sight, 
 
 Strongly, sweetly on me beaming, — 
 Beaming, shedding full delight. 
 
 When from God and peace I rove. 
 
 Filled with terror, 
 Then this Book of heavenly Love 
 Bids m}^ g'lilty fears remove, 
 
 Chases quickly every error, — 
 Error chases, guides above. 
 
 When I walk in darksome way, 
 
 Yale of sorrow. 
 All to woefulness a prey, 
 Then this Book expels dismay, 
 
 Teaches how glad hopes to borrow,- 
 Borrow freely, for I may. 
 
42 POEMS OF THE CROSS. 
 
 Loved one in the grave to place, 
 
 Oh 'tis sadness ! 
 In this holy chart I trace 
 How through riches of God's grace 
 
 Gloomy grave is path of gladness,- 
 Gladness in the heavenward race. 
 
 For it shows before the eye. 
 
 Wondrous story ! 
 Jesus mounting to the sky 
 First of them, who lowly lie ; 
 
 Promises eternal glory, — 
 Glory with the Lord on high ! 
 
 Lo, it teaches, that the dead. 
 
 Oh surprising ! 
 When the trump's loud echoes spread, 
 Will in form of Him who bled, 
 
 If his friends, with joy uprising. 
 Rising Heaven's blest mansions tread. 
 
 Then with Paul, his work just done, 
 
 Rapt and glowing, 
 I will say — ' the prize I've won !' — 
 Won by faith in God's dear Son ; 
 
 Joys are mine forever flowing, — 
 Flowing e'er before the throne ! 
 
POEMS OF THE CROSS. 
 
 43 
 
 THE TEACHING OF NATURE. 
 
 All nature shadows gospel truth, 
 Needful alike for age and youth, 
 Who each may quickly fall and die 
 To meet his future destiny — 
 
 Who both will slumber in the ground, 
 Assured to hear the trumpet's sound, — 
 And whom God's Spirit must transform. 
 That they may bear the Saviour's form, 
 
 Himself uprising from his tomb 
 To bring his friends to heaven's bright home. 
 While angels sing in all their bands, 
 Shall not the floods now clap their hands. 
 
 And lakes with all their flowing streams. 
 All mounts, whose head with snow outgleams. 
 All hills and vales and forests wide. 
 With every plant in flowery pride ? 
 
 Shall not earth's tenants, beast and bird, 
 With beauteous insect tribe be stirred 
 To extol the power, from which they sprung, 
 E'en Jesus on the cross who hung ? 
 
44 POEMS OF THE CROSS. 
 
 god's peaise by the heavenly worlds. 
 
 All hail, ye glorious orbs of light, 
 Outshining in your Maker's sight, 
 World beyond worlds, a countless throng. 
 Filling the universe with song ! 
 
 Your brightness is a feeble ray 
 From God's outbeaming, glorious day. 
 Jehovah ! All these worlds are thine, 
 Which speak thy majesty divine ! 
 
 The blest abodes of joy and love. 
 Like thine own heaven of bliss above ! 
 *' The brightness of thy glory," lo. 
 Thy first-born Son was seen below, 
 
 And on the cross he humbly bore 
 Our sins away fore verm ore ; 
 And us from death he'll lift on high. 
 To dwell where goodness cannot die. 
 
 Come, then, unnumbered hosts, and sing 
 The glories of your Saviour-King. 
 
POEMS OF THE CROSS. 45 
 
 OCEAN SAFETY. 
 
 (To mj daughter Elizabeth, the wife of Prof. IT. B. Smith, 
 of New York, on their voyage to Havre, in June, 1866.) 
 
 Who should be, on tossing ocean, 
 Calm amidst the waves' commotion ? — ■ 
 
 On the sea of Galilee 
 Jesus said to them in danger, 
 " It is I ; no spirit-stranger ! 
 
 I'm your Saviour : I am He !" 
 
 Listen ! Ye will hear him say, — 
 " I still reign, and hear your praying 
 
 Mid the roaring of the sea. — 
 Christians ! on my heart engraven, 
 I will bring you to your haven. 
 And ye then shall honor me ! " 
 
 THE SWEAEIXG SEA^^IAN. 
 
 Sailor on the ocean wave, 
 Whose depths may shortly be thy grave, 
 Dare not blaspheme the Eternal Mind, 
 Lest thou the deep of hell shalt find. 
 
 Is there a God, who framed the sky. 
 And built the shining world on high. 
 Who spread the sea and spread the air, 
 And made the beautiful and fair? 
 
4G POEMS OF THE CEOSS. 
 
 But wait one day and see his power, 
 When lightnings flash and thunders roar, 
 When cloudy storm now sweeps along. 
 And billows rush in furious throng ! 
 
 INSCRIPTION FOR A CHRISTIAN SEAMAN. 
 
 Life had its storms severe, 
 
 Its cares and woes : 
 But holy calm is here 
 
 And sweet repose ; 
 For weary, broken body rest ; 
 The ransomed soul is with the blest. 
 
 ROUND HILL, IN NORTHAMPTON. 
 A Sonnet. 
 
 How fair the vision here from this famed height ! 
 Of all the scenes of earth beneath the sky 
 Did one so lovely ever meet my eye. 
 Or kindle in my soul such sweet delight? 
 
 Thy village, Nonotuck ! Yon river bright ; 
 
 These meadows broad, where treasured riches lie ; 
 Beyond them Holyoke's mountain range so high ; 
 Those towering steeples gleaming in the light ; 
 
 With learning's temple on proud eastern hill ; 
 And God's blue sky o'er all ! There yet is seen 
 One spot all hearts with hope or dread to fill — 
 
 That central grove of thickest evergreen : 
 There soon my body with the good will rest 
 Till, Jesus ! I shall rise to thee most blest ! 
 
POEMS OF THE CROSS. 47 
 
 mSCEIPTION ; 
 For a Country Grave Yard filled with Trees. 
 
 Dead men rest them here. — 
 From all we loved below we've passed away 
 And naught of earthly ill have we to fear : 
 
 Yet nothing 's here but clay. 
 
 We ourselves are fled : 
 Our spirits live with Christ in heaven above, 
 Who fills with treasured good the righteous dead — 
 
 Joy, holiness, and love ! 
 
 From these graves shall rise 
 Our bodies although crumbled into dust. 
 New-fashioned for their dwelling in the skies, 
 
 Companions of the just. 
 
 Doubt not God's sure word : 
 E'en Nature teaches ; — many a tree 
 In this fair grove green-leaved lends sweet accord 
 
 With truth revealed, you see. 
 
 Smit by autumn frost. 
 Green leaves are changed in hue, and dead are seen ; 
 Yet life in wintry tree is never lost : 
 
 Spring clothes the tree in green. 
 
48 POEMS OF THE CROSS. 
 
 THE WELCOME OF DAVID BRAINERD 
 
 AND OTHER CHRISTIANS TO 
 
 STEPHEN BREWER BUTLER. ' 
 May 30, 1866. 
 
 [On the day of his funeral presented to his father, J. H. B.] 
 
 Welcome to this Cemetery, 
 Brother, whom they bring to bury 
 
 With our company of dead. 
 Welcome ! welcome ! to us joining : — 
 Here with us is no repining, 
 
 Not by us one tear is shed. 
 
 Sweet our sleep, the friends of Jesus ! 
 In our narrow bed he sees us, 
 
 And his face beams God's own love. 
 Lo ! death's bars his arm hath broken ; — 
 " Ye, like me," he once hath spoken, 
 
 *' Sure shall rise and mount above ! " 
 
POEMS OF THE CROSS. 49 
 
 A PENITENT SPIRIT. 
 A Sonnet. 
 
 'Twas Leonardo, whose unequalled brush 
 Had spread out for the duke of Milan's eye 
 The scene of Christ with his apostles nigh 
 At his Last Supper. Swift indeed the rush 
 
 To see the unveiled picture ; loud the gush 
 And thunder of applause ; — but then a sigh 
 Bursts from the painter, while we hear him cry — 
 " My foe, you say, is Judas ; but I blush ! 
 
 Though there in loveliness doth Christ appear, 
 Clothed in high beauty and each gentle grace. 
 No whisper of your praise should reach my ear ; 
 
 For while I've imaged forth the Saviour's face 
 On this dead wall, his love has failed to live 
 In my bad heart. Jesus blest, forgive !" 
 
 TO MPv. AND MRS. STODDARD, 
 Missionaries to Persia. 
 
 O wander not from land most dear. 
 
 From home, the loveliest vale of earth: 
 What grave so soft as slumbering here ? 
 
 What burial-place like place of birth ? 
 
 0, wander not, — unless from love 
 
 To Him, who came for guilt to die, — 
 
 Who left his glorious throne above 
 To save men from their misery. 
 5 
 
50 POEMS OF THE CROSS. 
 
 If love our children draw away 
 
 From joys of home to heathen shores, — 
 
 To wild Sumatra's drear dismay, — 
 To isles, where loud volcano roars, — 
 
 To India's sands and Persia's coast, 
 
 With zeal to teach the truth divine ;■ — 
 
 For love like this to brethren lost 
 In starry brightness shall they shine ! 
 
 Northampton, 20th February, 1843. 
 
 TO MRS. CHARLOTTE TALBOT. 
 
 (On receiving her present of a box of beautiful Butterflies of 
 ber own rearing. — November 25, ]866.) 
 
 Thy Insect Nursery a school, 
 Which well confutes the learned fool, 
 That weaves his slender web of lies, — 
 The Resurrection who denies. — 
 
 The Egg, and next the Worm, that creeps — 
 Then Chrysalis, that wintry sleeps — 
 At length, in spring, the winged fly, — 
 The beauteous, golden Butterfly : 
 
 All insect transformations great. 
 
 Which teach to men their changeful state, — 
 
 Destined, if good, for God's own sky. 
 
 In glorious forms eternally. 
 
POEMS OF THE CROSS. 51 
 
 FOR THE NEW YEAR, 
 
 This year thou shall die. 
 
 Doth God thus speak to thee ? 
 The God, who reared thy wondrous frame, 
 And stamped " immortal " on thy name, 
 
 Thy soul's humanity? 
 
 Of all the dwellers here 
 On this forever-turning ball 
 Not less than thirty millions fall, 
 
 Death's harvest in one year. 
 
 Each second's time, lo, one 
 Drops into dust ; and who can say, 
 His turn shall be postponed one day, — 
 
 His race is not just run ? 
 
 Thy life is in God's hand ; 
 Accept his proffered mercy now. 
 So shalt thou fearless meet death's blov7. 
 
 And hail thy summons grand. 
 
 If this year thou shalt die. 
 Then what are pleasure, power, and pride. 
 And all the good to earth allied. 
 
 If lost eternity? 
 
50 POEMS OF THE CROSS. 
 
 If love our children draw away 
 
 From joys of home to heathen shores, — 
 
 To wild Sumatra's drear dismay, — 
 To isles, where loud volcano roars, — 
 
 To India's sands and Persia's coast, 
 
 With zeal to teach the truth divine ;- — 
 
 For love like this to brethren lost 
 In starry brightness shall they shine ! 
 
 Northampton, 20th February, 1843. 
 
 TO MRS. CHARLOTTE TALBOT. 
 
 (On receiving her present of a box of beautiful Butterflies of 
 her own rearing. — November 25, ]866.) 
 
 Thy Insect Nursery a school, 
 Which well confutes the learned fool, 
 That weaves his slender web of lies, — 
 The Eesurrection who denies. — 
 
 The Egg, and next the Worm, that creeps — 
 Then Chrysalis, that wintry sleeps — 
 At length, in spring, the winged fly, — 
 The beauteous, golden Butterfly : 
 
 All insect transformations great, 
 
 Which teach to men their changeful state, — 
 
 Destined, if good, for God's own sky. 
 
 In glorious forms eternally. 
 
POEMS OF THE CROSS. 51 
 
 FOR THE NEW YEAR. 
 
 This year thou shall die. 
 
 Doth God thus speak to thee ? 
 The God, who reared thy wondrous frame, 
 And stamped " immortal " on thy name, 
 
 Thy soul's humanity ? 
 
 Of all the dwellers here 
 On this forever-turning ball 
 Not less than thirty millions fall, 
 
 Death's harvest in one year. 
 
 Each second's time, lo, one 
 Drops into dust ; and who can say, 
 His turn shall be postponed one day, — 
 
 His race is not just run ? 
 
 Thy life is in God's hand ; 
 Accept his proffered mercy now, 
 So shalt thou fearless meet death's blow. 
 
 And hail thy summons grand. 
 
 If this year thou shalt die, 
 Then what are pleasure, power, and pride, 
 And all the good to earth allied. 
 
 If lost eternity? 
 
54 POEMS OF THE CROSS. 
 
 As on his bed the sufferer lies, 
 And calls for death, while death him flies. 
 What does he say in mournful cries ? — 
 " How long, Lord, how long ? " 
 
 THE LOED IS COME. 
 
 If Zion's foes meet overthrow, 
 Struck down by Grod's most righteous blow, 
 How changed her mournful note? ' Tis now- 
 Behold, " The Lord doth come ! " 
 
 See now the end of crimson war, 
 And crushing griefs now flee afar. 
 For Zion sees her morning star, 
 
 And shouts — " The Lord is come ! " 
 
 Truth triumphs : and all errors flee, 
 Earth's joy supplants all misery. 
 And Zion cries in extasy, 
 
 Behold, '^ The Lord is come ! " 
 
 But hark, the voice of angel strong. 
 When all Christ's friends, a mighty throng, 
 From dust burst forth, and join in song — 
 " The Lord, the Lord is come ! " 
 
POEMS OF THE CROSS. 55 
 
 THE LORD S SUPPER. 
 
 Who is he, of thoughts high streaming, 
 Scorner of the earth, and deeming 
 
 Treasured gold but worthless dross? 
 He, whose soul, with joy amazing 
 With the eye of faith is gazing 
 
 On the wonders of the Cross. 
 
 On the cross God's Son from heaven 
 Lamb of sacrifice was given, 
 
 Dying in his agony : 
 Bread and wine his body broken 
 And his blood shall well betoken 
 
 In the church, while time shall be. 
 
 " Never be this feast forsaken ; 
 These by you," said he, " be taken — 
 
 In the memory of me. 
 Thus my death shall ye be showing, 
 While the sands of time are flowing, 
 
 Till I come your life to be ! " — 
 
 Thus God's glory represented, 
 Christ his image is presented 
 
 In the form of Mary's Son ; 
 In that form in heav^en he liveth 
 And to friends their raptures giveth 
 
 Throug^h the victories he won. 
 
56 POEMS OF THE CROSS. 
 
 THE CROSS. 
 
 Who can behold the Cross of Christ 
 With eyes insensate and unmoist ? 
 Was he not God's own first-born Son, 
 Of glory brighter than the sun? 
 
 Was he not great, beyond all thought ? 
 By love was not this wonder wrought. 
 That he should die in agony 
 To save our souls from misery ? 
 
 As man upon the Cross he bled 
 To give new life to sinners dead : 
 In human flesh he rose again, 
 To cheer the hearts of dying men. 
 
 As man shall we not see his face 
 In heaven through riches of his grace, 
 The Saviour of our soul's great loss 
 Through suffering on his bloody Cross ? 
 
NOTES. 
 
 The reader of this little book is informed, that its cover is orna- 
 mented with the " Cross Potent " or the " Jerusalem Cross," 
 which appears in the coat of arras of Samuel Allen of Chelmsford, 
 Eno^land — described as follows : " Shield, sable ; a cross Potent, 
 gold; crest a demi-Lion, azure, holding- in his two paws a Rudder 
 of a vessel, gold. — Motto. Fortiter gerit Crucem." — This translated 
 is — " Bravely he bears the Cross." — Probably this coat of arms 
 was first borne by a crusader, perhaps by Count Alan or Aleyn of 
 Bretagne, who married Constance, the daughter of King William, 
 the first, and assisted him Avith his troops in the battle of Hastings 
 and the conquest of England in 1066, and was afterwards a crusa- 
 der at the conquest of Jerusalem in 1099. — In the early settlement 
 of New England one of the company of the Rev. John Hooker of 
 Hartford, who came from Chelmsford, was Samuel Allen, who died 
 at Windsor in 1648. From him the author of this book was de- 
 scended ; but whether he, S. A., of Wind.sor, was a descendant of 
 S. A., of Chelmsford, whose coat of arms is described, the author 
 knows not. 
 
 The Missionary Stoddard, p. 49. 
 
 David Tappan Stoddard, a missionary to Persia for 14 years, 
 died at Seir in Persia, Jan. 22, 1857, of the typhus fever, a de- 
 scendant of the second minister of Northampton, the predecessor 
 of Edwards. He was a graduate of Yale College in 1838. Being 
 married in February, 1843, to Harriet Briggs of Marblehead, he 
 sailed with his wife on his mission from Boston March 1, 1843. 
 His daughter Harriette, soon after she became a member of the 
 mission church, died also at Mount Seir, and was buried by the 
 side of her father. — Mrs. S. died at Trebizond of the cholera in 
 1848. — Mr. S. was an eminent scholar: he translated the ancient 
 Syriac-Testaraent into the Modern Syriac. An interesting Memoir 
 of him Avas written by Rev Dr. J. P. Thompson : N. Y. 1858. 
 pp. 442. The book has an accurate engraved portrait of Mr. S. 
 There is a monument to his memory in the grave plot of the family 
 in Northampton, near that of David Brainerd. the missionary, who 
 died in 1847, and whose Life was written by Mr. Edwards : the 
 last words on this stone are — " They that turn many to righteous- 
 ness shall shine as the stars forever and ever." 
 
58 NOTES. 
 
 Mrs. Charlotte Talbot, p. 50. 
 
 Mrs. Talbot, the wife of Charles T., Esq , has one of the most 
 beautiful residences in Northampton ; her house is in Prospect 
 street, near Round Hill, at a lower level, but with the same scenery 
 before it. The heart of a mother, wishing to cheer the wearisome 
 hours of a sick son, led her to become a most skillful entomologist. 
 The country is most convenient for the cultivation of her chosen 
 science ; but in her winter house in the Fifth avenue. New York, 
 her cabinet exhibits the Butterflies of her own rearing still, though 
 dead, in the full bloom of their expanded and beautifully colored 
 wings. 
 
 Tabor, p. 5. 
 
 The beautiful Holyoke Mountain range is in front of Northamp- 
 ton, a few miles distant, stretching from the South to the East, 
 from the Connecticut river to Belchertown. The eminence about a 
 mile from the river is called Holyoke : upon it is the Prospect 
 House. The highest peak is near the eastern end of the range, 
 and has been named Noricottuck by Amherst College. But of the 
 whole range the most prominent, rounded, fairest, fir crowned peak, 
 called mount Tabor, is the next one, perhaps two miles distant, to 
 the West. It resembles in form the Mount Tabor of Galilee, and 
 is at the same distance from Northampton, that Tabor is from 
 Nazareth, 7 or 8 miles, and in about the same direction south of 
 east. As I sit by my chamber fire in the morning, it is the first 
 and most beautiful object which meets my eye. 
 
 A Penitent Spirit, p. 49. 
 
 The self-condemnation, the humble, penitent spirit of a great 
 painter is higher than great skill in the arts. The celebrated pain- 
 ting in fresco of " the Last Supper," by Leonardo Da Vinci, who 
 died in 1520, was on the wall of a convent at Milan, the prior of 
 which was his inveterate enemy. This fact will explain the sonnet. 
 I am happy to be the possessor of an oil painting, which I pro- 
 cured at Troyes in France in J 849, as an original painting of the 
 Saviour by Leonardo. It was brought by an ecclesiastic from 
 Italy, but which, if not an original, is doubtless a copy of his 
 painting, showing the features, which the great painter imagined 
 to belong to Jesus of Nazareth. Dr. Hoibrook, who saw his 
 painting in June last, says of it — " It is marvelltius ; especially the 
 Head of the Saviour." 
 
 Missionaries Dead. p. 40. 
 These early missionaries from America to the far East were 
 murdered by the Battahs in Sumatra, June 28, 1834. Lyman was 
 a native of Northampton, brother of Hannah L., chief female 
 teacher of Vassar College, N. Y. — Munson was a graduate of Bow- 
 doin College in 1829, under the presidency of the writer of these 
 lines. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 Page 
 Nazareth, 3 
 
 Christmas Morning, 4 
 
 Mount Tabor, 5 
 
 Jesus on the Cross,.. 6 
 
 Jesus' Love, 7 
 
 Christ's Love,. 8 
 
 Love to Jesus, 9 
 
 The Sorrows of Mar j, 9 
 
 Love to Christ, ]1 
 
 Jesus our King. ]1 
 
 The Prince of Peace, 12 
 
 Christ's Love to Man, 13 
 
 The Cross beyond Yalue, 14 
 
 Song to Christ, 15 
 
 Good Friday, 15 
 
 Jesus the Way , 16 
 
 Jesus is Truth, 17 
 
 Christ the Life, 18 
 
 The Way, the Truth, the Life, 19 
 
 Jesus is Light, 20 
 
 Abraham Lincoln, 21 
 
 Seven Short Lessons for Sabbath Schools, 21 
 
 The Lord of All 23 
 
 The Christian's Happiness, 24 
 
 The Hope of Salvation, 24 
 
 Christ on his Throne , 24 
 
 Zion's Triumph, 25 
 
 Truth, 26 
 
 Four score years to Three score years and ten, 27 
 
 The Century Jubilee, 28 
 
 Northampton Celebration, 29 
 
60 CONTENTS. 
 
 Page 
 
 Meeting of the General Conference, ?>0 
 
 The Farewell Meeting, 32 
 
 Coat of Arms of S. Allen, 33 
 
 The Christian Crusader, 33 
 
 Burial of Abraham Lincoln, 34 
 
 The Freedmen's Thanksgiving Hymn, 35 
 
 The Christian Soldier, 36 
 
 The Dying Signal of John Knox, 37 
 
 The Gospel for the World, . . . . , 38 
 
 The Friends of Missions, 38 
 
 Missionaries, 39 
 
 Missionaries 40 
 
 Missionaries Dead, 4(> 
 
 On the Bible, 41 
 
 The Teaching of Nature, 43 
 
 God's Praise by the Heavenly Worlds, 44 
 
 Ocean, Safety, 45 
 
 The Swearing Seaman 45 
 
 Inscription for a Christian Seaman, 46 
 
 Round Hill, a sonnet, 46 
 
 Inscription for a Country Graveyard, 47 
 
 The Welcome of David Brainerd, 48 
 
 A Penitent Spirit, 49 
 
 To Mr. and Mrs. Stoddard, 49 
 
 To Mrs. Charlotte Talbot 50 
 
 New Year's day, 5] 
 
 Death but New Life, 52 
 
 Good Works, 53 
 
 A Mohammedan Mosque, 53 
 
 The Lord is Come, 54 
 
 The Lord's Supper, 55 
 
 The Cross, 56 
 
 Mistake to be corrected : Pittsfield for Northampton, p. 29.