PS 3537 .P16S6 1920 & V* '£& \/ ^ v * w « <0 v> '0.7* A •tfj. *;w*v ,y ->•. ?5 ^ , ^ ^. v o> *o • «. * A & V o "** * <> * • s ^ * N °* • aV ... <>. *» o ^ + ?W~S * o* ••^.^ = fc ..... ^0- ... _^ <* *jgen//>£b> » ... -an * <<^\w%* *; ^•'V \^' >\^'.*°o >° J- " 7 *. + o Songs of the Kingdom By Arthur W. Spalding SOUTHERN PUBLISHING ASSOCIATION Nashville, Tennessee Copyright 1920, By Southern Publishing Association &PR \2 1920 2 ©C1A567771 CONTENTS PAGE ALMOST HOME 6 A SONG OF THE SINKING SUN 7 VOICES OF THE NIGHT 7 KIBROTH-HATAAVAH 9 SHALL FAITH BE FOUND? 10 A SONG OF THE RANK AND FILE 11 THE CHEER OF THE LAST LEGION 12 THE WATCHMAN'S WORD 13 ARMAGEDDON 15 A GLORY I SEE 16 SOUL TRAVAIL 16 THE FURNACE 18 CHALLENGE 20 A VISION OF THE DAY 23 OH, I AM GLAD 26 THE DAWN IS BREAKING O'ER US 28 CROWNED OF LIFE 30 A SONG OF THE KING'S HIGHWAY ....... 31 A CANTICLE IN WAR 32 THE DEATHLESS NAMES 33 GOD OUR GOD 34 THE SHOUT OF VICTORY 35 THE WATERS OF TREMBLING 36 MINE own; HIS OWN 38 REST IN THEE 39 THE GREATEST GIFT 40 A PRAYER FOR LOVE 42 FOR THE DAY OF DEATH 44 god's warriors 44 a psalm of sorrow . 45 a soldier of the last legion 46 NAIN 47 THE PEACE OF GOD 48 AND ISRAEL MOURNED 49 A LITTLE WHILE 50 SHALL WIPE ALL TEARS 51 THE STROKE OF GOD 51 SHALL SORROW PITCH HER SABLE TENT? 53 NOT FOREVER 54 3 4 Contents MY SANCTUARY 56 WHERE MY FATHER WALKS . / Ijf . . . . f 57 GRACE ABOUNDING | 58 DECISION 1 58 FROM THE VALLEY OF CURSING 59 HEART'S DESIRE T 60 MY FATHER 61 LIKE AS A FATHER 62 THE SEER 63 THE LIEGES OF THE KING 64 GOLD OF THE GLORY OF GOD Opposite 64 BARTIMEUS 66 A SONG OF EVENING 68 THE SABBATH SEAL 69 AH, THIS SWEET WORLD 72 THE JOY SECRET 72 A SONG OF THE YOUNG 74 COMMUNITY 75 DOXOLOGY 77 THE VALLEYS OF DIEGO 78 CONSIDER 79 THE HILLS OF GOD 80 THE SONGS OF LIFE 80 SONGS OF THE EXILES 82 LAND OF MY LOVE 84 TO THE DESERT 85 A PRAYER FOR HOPE 86 THE ARROW OF THE LORD'S DELIVERANCE 87 CONTRITION 88 THE TIME OF TROUBLE 89 I FEAR NOT 90 FOR FAVOR IN JUDGMENT 91 JEHOVAH JESUS 92 THAT OUR HEARTS MAY BE SOFTENED 93 I SHOULD LIKE TO PASS OVER THE WAY 94 I SHALL BE GLAD 95 ALMOST HOME Songs of the Kingdom ALMOST HOME I'm almost home at last, Almost home, Driving before the blast, The sheeted foam, The wrack and roar of waves Eager to open graves. Yea, but each comber laves The shores of home! Almost home at last, Almost home! Dark is the weltering past I chose to roam: Wrecks of the gifts of life, Prizes, — the scars of strife. Yea, but the winds are rife With sounds of home! For I'm almost home at last, Almost home! The signs are clustering fast Amid the gloam. I see the twinkling lights, The star-illumined heights, I sense the dear delights Of welcome home! Home, blest home, Where night and storm and scar Fade in the stillness of a life afar! Home, dear home, I'm almost home! Songs of the Kingdom 7 A SONG OF THE SINKING SUN In shadow and in brightness God's doomed fair world doth lie: The low-dipped sun sinks swiftly upon the boding eye; The swales and the hills catch glory, the hollows and dales are dim, And thicker the shadows cluster, awesome, menacing, grim. But yet for your courage, comrades, remember, amid the fens, The sunlight bathes the hilltops, though purple are the glens. Oh, but the night is gathering! Ominous fades day's light; Chill is the steel that the heavens, dark'ning, bare to the sight. The wail of the hoarse night-chorus — hounds of the nether world — Up from the shattered canyons flat on the ear is hurled. Yet, if the night grows darkly, and sight in the chasms fails, The sunlight rests on the hilltops, though blackness hides the vales. Over and over the message strikes with the sun's swift beams : Courage! and let your vision rest where the glory streams! God plans a hastened sunrise; fear not the falling night! On with the work in patience; trust to the lingering light. And, when the lowlands fail you, look where the headland leaps; For the sunlight touches the hilltops, though lost in night are the deeps. VOICES OF THE NIGHT It is very dark. This path I tread is very narrow, This path of duty that goes on and on. Out in the dark I hear the tinkling of sweet waters; The fragrance of strange flowers wafts in, is gone; And music, sprinkled from the velvet wings of evening, Perfumes and cools the harsh-caressing air: What hinders that I cease the never-ending journey, And seek repose, and make an end to care? Songs of the Kingdom Be still, my child! The path you tread, in truth, is narrow, But on that path alone there shines a light. The tinkling waters run to deep and foul morasses: You only perish if you pierce the night. But what! Shall I shrink cow'ring from the darkness' terrors? Shall I be frightened by a fancied dream? 'Tis true, this path alone with light is fully flooded, But in the dark are other lights agleam. Who knows but in some vale a little cottage nestles, Where smiling gardens open wide their charms, And there might I find refuge from the pilgrim's sorrows, And meet no more the pilgrim's dread alarms? My child, it is a dream delusive you are dreaming: The lights you see are fleeting, false, and fell. The one true refuge from the griefs of dulys pathway Is found when you have trodden duty well. If then I may not leave this narrow, trodden pathway, Nor heed the wooing of the perjured night, If weary eyes and staggering limbs must still press on- ward, And keep the path, and stay within the light, May I not see the end of duty, know its pleasure, Breathe balm that comes not from forbidden fields, Be strengthened for the stumbling and the beating bruises, And taste the nectar that stern duty yields? Yes, yes, my child! Do thou but lift thy downcast glances, And see the glory where the pathway ends, And straightway all thy rue in foretaste sweet shall vanish, And easy be the pain thy Father sends. Songs of the Kingdom KIBROTH-HATAAVAH I saw the sun go down in the west, Red, and shot with flame; And, gripped by a passion I could not name, I cried to it, "Set! set, sun! And leave me the knowledge the day is done; For that the day is done is best." And a storm swept down, a sudden gust, — The rain blown, and the hail, — And the trees bowed over before the gale, And the flocks sought shelter before the pelt. "Blow, O tempest!" I cried; for I felt That the vanishing sun and the passing day, The flames' last stabs, and the tempest's sway, Were filling the graves of lust, — Filling the graves in the wilderness, When the fateful day was done; The flesh unchewed that the clamors won, The prayers unuttered that were to bless. Prince of the blood and mixed of race, They lie in the desert way. They talked of the Land, but they lived for the day, And the day's full meed was won at last: The lusts forgotten, the murmurings past, They met death face to face. A tumult of voices smites the ear: To-day, as they shouted then, So shout the frenzied and blinded men 10 Songs of the Kingdom That have dragged the reluctant foot in vain, When the heart is behind in Egypt's plain. And not till the cries of the proud are stilled, And not till the graves of lust are filled, Shall the Land of Promise near. So to God in the guiding cloud I pray (In your presence, brothers, who be not blind): By the omen of sun and of rushing wind, Bring, Lord, the close of the day. SHALL FAITH BE FOUND? The world is flooded with a wierd, fierce light, The glow of fires that wait its onward march, And things in darkness hidden spring to sudden sight, Beneath the tense, hot search-light of that ominous arch. And men, delirious with the joy of things new found, Are wrapped in pride of age and praise of gain. But he who seeks amid these cumberers of the ground For men of simple faith, shall seek in vain. The hopeful visions of the dupes of peace Parade beneath the shadow of old Lamech's boast. The blows of Tubal-cain by night and day increase, And, world-wide, every plain is marshalling forth its host. The oafs of toil mouth out their hate of happier birth, And misery with reckless luxury grows. So, mad in Time's last wild debauch, old Earth Still staggers toward his cataclysmic close. But where shall faith be found? Not in the room Of him who lords it o'er his fellows mute. Not in the mobs of passion that upheave the gloom, Or, wallowing in the mire of riot, shame the brute. Songs of the Kingdom 11 Not in the mitered cleric that, with haughty brow, Pollutes with pious cant God's sanctuary even. Not in the cringing sycophant, whose vow Upbuilds his Babel for his hopeless heaven. Go, search the mountains and the deserts far! For Time hath wearied of his tenure long. Mayhap in waste of dune, in cavern, or by scar, Are hid the meek, the simple and the strong. Go, find, and deck as virgin brides the faithful few, That they may greet the culmination of the ages' plan: For when the light of faith is almost lost from view, It is the portent of the coming of the Son of man. A SONG OF THE RANK AND FILE Though I be not the captain, Yet will I bare my sword, And I will be by my captain's side, Wherever he stand, or wherever he ride, In the battles of the Lord. For though there were captains many, What should the captains do, If there were none of men beside, To thrust and parry, to march and ride, And to follow the captains through? I will not buy with money The right to idle lie: I should scorn to give, in the mask of gold, The proof of a courage I did not hold, Because I feared to die. 12 Songs of the Kingdom But I will give my body, And I will give my hand, And the joy of a heart that is true to the cause, For the King and his grace, the King and his laws, And be one of the King's own band. And though I should count my silver Into the captain's chest, It is but to free my good sword-arm, That, naught encumbered when sounds the alarm, I may fight, and fight my best. And though I be not captain, Yet will I keep my stride, And the burdens bear of pack and sword, To march and to battle for the Lord, Close by my captain's side. THE CHEER OF THE LAST LEGION I have my cheer! The road is hard, hot stone, Straight on, up hill and down, nor shade nor turn. "Duty," the Legion spells it. And the end, A battle where the Dragon-flag is flown. Strangers to cooling wine, the parched lips burn. But on! And on! I have my cheer, my friend. I have my cheer! We passed a hamlet yon, Where mothers crouched a prey to nameless fear. And as our scutums thrust their ward between Them and the terror, o'er their faces wan, Glory upspread. That vision is my cheer. Welcome the thrust and fence for what I've seen. Songs of the Kingdom 13 I have my cheer! I pressed a comrade's hand, Whom wounds and toil had sped to his last day. He smiled. And as I bent to catch his word: 1 ' Fail not ! " he said, ' ' I fall. There you must stand ! ' ' The eagle in his eye shall fire this fray, Poise o'er our standard, and direct the sword. I have my cheer! Just as we paused at noon To snatch the hasty meal and stretch the thew, A little child that dallied in the glade, Unknowing danger, and with peace attune, With fresh-pluckt flowers tripped o'er: "For you! for you!" A smiling world that little child hath made. I have my cheer! We to the fight are bound, The last, the greatest of the legions sworn To smite the Dragon! And the fight shall be By faith, and valor, and affection crowned. By need, and oath, and trustful joy upborne, — Good cheer ! Good cheer ! We have the victory ! THE WATCHMAN'S WORD The twilight steals from out the brake, The furtive shadows glower, The walls their sable draperies take Beneath the watchman's tower. Hark to the challenge from below: "Ho, watchman! Give us word!" And deep and solemn, measured, slow, The watchman's voice is heard: "A-ll's w-e-11! A-a-ll's well!" The watchman saith, 14 Songs of the Kingdom " But guard the gates : the night comes down. " And far away there answereth: "The gates — the gates — the night — comes down. " The evening star shines in the west, But setting, setting low. The iron-barred doors close in the guest, And shut without the foe. And from his silent, lofty keep, Like call of evening bird, Intoned in accents full and deep, The watchman's voice is heard: "A-ll's w-e-U! A-a-U's well!" The watchman saith, ' ' Yet watch ! And wake ! There stirs a sound Upon the evening's light-blown breath!" And faintly, far, the war notes sound! The midnight blackens all the field, The walls dissolve in night, When sudden, silence, fast congealed, Breaks forth in wild affright, And loud alarum springs to life, Till hell beneath is stirred; Yet o'er the bedlam of the strife The watchman's voice is heard: "A-ll's w-e-U! A-a-ll's well!" The watchman saith, "The walls thrust back the mad assault! Fear not the foe, and fear not death, But mount, and guard, and meet th' assault! " The morning's banners faintly flash Upon the eastern sky, And still the foemen's cohorts dash Against the bulwarks high. Songs of the Kingdom 15 But cheerily rings the trump the hour, And bravely runs the word; For from his high-thrust warden-tower The watchman's voice is heard: "A-ll's w-e-U! A-a-ll's well!" The watchman saith; " The King, with all his armies, comes I " And loud the people answereth: ' ' The King ! The King ! He comes ! He comes ! ' ' ARMAGEDDON Girdled the earth with fire! Hidden the land with dead! And those winged horrors hovering overhead, To heap the stark piles higher! Gray is the wan world's face, Feeble its struggling breath, While waits eternity beyond its death, To take its forfeit place. Hear ye the trumpet blown, Mark ye the herald's cry: The day of guerdon and of doom is nigh, Before the Judge's throne! Who then shall speak his boast? Who then lay hand to sword When men of clay shall face the Almighty Lord And his almighty host? Earth, yet drunk with blood, O Hell, still unappeased, Slay ye, and drink, at this last dreadful feast; Then answer ye to God! 16 Songs of the Kingdom A GLORY I SEE A glory I see through the shadows grim That fall on the fainting day, A glory their gloom may lightly dim, But can not hide for aye. For the night may wrap the earth in a shroud, But the stars of God shine through; And the glory they hold, it crieth aloud That the day shall live anew. Shall live anew, with a glory born Of a thrice relumined sun, When a new age dawns with God's new morn, And the cycle of time is done. I have faced the shades with a failing breath, I have bowed to a tyrant's will; But I know that He liveth who conquered death, And I know that he conquereth still. He conquereth still, and his shining mail Flings gleams of the coming day, When his hosts shall the forces of night assail, And the shadows shall flee away. O then shall be joy to the sons of men, And glory shall blazon free. And where, O Death, is thy triumph then? Where, Night, thy victory? SOUL TRAVAIL A little lake so blue, a little field so green, A wealth of sunshine, and a wood wherein to roam, Time to lie still and watch the mote and star, — This is the boon I crave. Meseems would come Songs of the Kingdom 17 The hush of God's great heaven, where the angels are, And brood o'er such a place; and all things mean, The welter of ambitions and the spume of hate, Would find the way thereto swept with the flaming sword But now the red sun leers upon a field of spoil, Encrimsoned swords seek hiding but in gaping wounds, And all the world heeds nothing but the battle-word. "Peace, peace!" I cry; and the slogan's roar responds. "Quiet, ah, but a little time!" — and a leering face thrusts in. Did I create this hellish strife, this monstrous moil? Ah, Soul, for such a query thou wert born too late: The serpent coiled, and spake, and there was sin; And now, the world for gage, we, foot to foot, Must fight the age-old battle of the universe. Where heroes fell, let heroes stand! Clang, battle-axe! and clash, brand! Uplift thy soul in valor; let thy hand Fail not in stroke, in better fare or worse; Nor faint thy heart for carnage nor for bruit. Beyond, beyond, there gleam the gates of pearl! Beyond, the saffron and the sapphire and the jasper glow! Beyond, as o'er thee, banners wave that never furl, Yea, Soul, eternal banners of celestial lights. There is the Paradise thy every thought invites; There wait the quiet pleasures that the ransomed know; And nature, mute to us, there joins the thrilling choir, And all the voice of all the world hymns forth the melody. There Heaven's calm is beckoned by the angel's lyre; And there the soul's great sigh is hushed in nature's symphony : The little lakes so blue; the broad, broad fields so green; The seven-times relumined sun on wildwood's verdant sheen; Not Time, but that broad stretch we call Eternity! O Soul, the idyl follows: beat thy epic now in fire. 2 18 Songs of the Kingdom THE FURNACE There smites a cry upon the ear, The death-wail of a world, Twisting in mortal agony, And grappling hard with Fear. Up from the hell where it lies hurled, Piercingly, thrillingly, That cry: — "God! God! Where art thou, God? We die!" And the heavens of brass resound To the clang of an iron earth, And the yellow haze of the battle-ground, Red-streaked with demon lightnings, drops Its mordant mantle where the dead are found. O Earth! Earth! Earth! Thy slain they lie uncovered — men Upon the fields of hate, and babes at futile birth. And here life stops! forever stops! But from the livid hades hear again The sobbing breath: — "0 God! God! Suffer us not to die This bitter death!" This is the voice of Earth! Of men, and women, and their children fair, Now wraiths of fear and hunger and despairing hate. They who have lost their God, this is their prayer. A voice from the four winds of universal fate! A voice! Is there no ear for it to echo in? Has God forgot the world, and left it to its sin? Songs of the Kingdom 19 Listen! Another Voice, unshaken, strong, Calm as the solitude between far stars: "Father, it is the hour! the hour of anguish that must be Of blood, and damning crimes, and diabolic wars, Of weakness trampled by gigantic wrong. For he, the Rebel first, who sought thy throne, And veiled in falsehood all his fell design, He must work out this measure of his own, And let the ruined world stand forth his sign. Then shall the righteous universe thy justice see, And win eternal peace from out Earth's agony." But list! That Voice of calm is choked with grief; Gethsemane descends again! The God becomes the sufferer with men, An advocate; a sacrifice; of sinners chief! Like blood the words upspued: — "My God! My God! Forsake them not, My multitude." Uplifted now against a grisly sky The outline of a cross; And those who are appointed there to die Pass on fantasmally, — Men, maimed and haggard; wives whose sunken eyes are wells of loss; And staring babes, that suck the funeral air for food. Again that pleading Voice, their spokesman, cries: "Give me, my God, my multitude, For whom I died! The score of centuries have sped As time's iron harrows o'er the backs of men, Since I endured the cross for them. 0, when Shall that dark symbol cease to mark the dead, And only blaze its purchased glory through the skies?" 20 Songs of the Kingdom And is there answer? Yea! From many a tongue Of earth and sea and sky, God speaks his will: "There shall be time no longer!" Far is flung That golden oriflamme of hope. And still, "There shall be time no longer!" boom earth's tones, — From hell-mouthed mortars, gluttonous of men; From fiery mountains, raining molten stones; From muttering mobs of hate. And yet again, "There shall be time no more," — the sea's wild cry, Crammed with its dead, and swallowing earth's increase, "There shall be time no longer," echoes back the sky, " Nor time, nor war, but everlasting peace. " Then shall the righteous, molten in the fire (This furnace heated seven times again), Reflect the face of God to his desire, And hear the great, approving, last, "Amen!" And looking up, shall see the glorious train Of heaven's host and heaven's Monarch, sweep With lambent falchions all the night away. And they shall shout whose wont it was to weep, And they acclaim whose habit was to pray. Echo, ye heavens, with the mighty strain Of them who sing: — "Our God! Our God! Salvation is in him, Our glorious King!'" CHALLENGE There was a time when I was a boy, and the long, long years Threw never a shadow upon the sun; for there was no night; For my vision stretched to the golden day discerned by the seers, And I said, "As a child I shall be with the throngs that walk in its light." Songs of the Kingdom 21 Then I measured with childish eye the prophecy-shortened years, And I said (for I knew but as children know), "Are they five? or ten? Will my baby brother be old as I? — for never as men Shall we stand through the fearful plagues to shout when the Lord appears!" Ah, glad was I that the Lord would come in my tender years! Then I stood in the strength of my youth, and I said, " It shall last for aye: For my fathers were they that stood in the gloom and the glare of the signs; And this youth of mine shall never grow wrinkled and weak and gray; It shall fuse with the youth that fore'er with the life of God alines. For, though rocks shall crumble to dust, this word shall stand for aye: 'The generation that seeth these signs shall not go by Till the righteous shall enter life, and the cursed shall pray to die.' " And I stood with a hand outstretched, to greet the hastening day That should catch my youth in its glow, and cause it to burn for aye. And now, O Time, I challenge you! for the word of God Is pledged to the failing few that saw the signs of old, And they perish one by one, as the hosts that followed the rod Through Paran's sands gave way to their sons as the years were told. O Time! Life! I challenge you; for the word of my God Shall not go down through the ages defamed with a broken oath! I challenge you that ye show your cause why ye be so loath To ease the agony, end the woe, on the road ye've trod. Why hesitant still to yield the world to the hand of God? 22 Songs of the Kingdom Yea, my youth is fled ! And I challenge you, ye gray-haired men, To tell me, What have ye done with the youth that was never to cease? Where is the land of honey and milk ye spake of, when From the bath of the crimson sea we fled away toward peace? Why have ye let the desert swallow the hopes of men? — But stay! for 'tis not on your hoary heads that the blame shall fall! And though but a Caleb and Joshua remain of you all, The generation that saw the signs shall enter then The land that over the river waits for the sons of men. But I challenge myself, that have come to the state my fathers held. For I look on the stalwart youths and the maidens fair of today, And I know the stony road on which their feet are compelled; And my heart would burst should I keep them longer upon the way. Yea, I have come to stand in the place that my fathers held ; And by Him that guideth us in the pillar of cloud and fire, I will up with my staff and lead my flock to the land they desire; And not by recreant prince nor priest shall my spirit be quelled; For the challenge cometh to me from the rod our leader hath held . But my God I challenge not; for his calm and patient hand Hath held in the pillar of fire and cloud through the sin- cursed years. And ever the fire hath gleamed on the path toward the Prom- ised Land, And ever rebellious hearts have dissolved the cloud in tears. My God will I challenge not; for his lips and his nail-pierced hand Songs of the Kingdom 23 Have plead with the sweat of blood and the gasp of agonized breath, That he might close in a glory-burst the reign of death! Have plead from the torturing cross that shall to the Judg- ment stand, That the sons of grace might rally under his loving hand ! Wake to the trumpet's challenge, ye men of the closing age! Here, of a mightier hand than mine is the gauntlet thrown! Who shall dispute the battle? who shall accept the gage? For the hand is that of the King, and his is the trumpet blown. Fathers, and scribes, and youth, and ye of ancient age, Ponder it well: will ye dare to hazard the perilous fight, To prolong the kingdom of darkness, delay the kingdom of light? Now shall be time no longer! Now shall the battle rage! And out of the murk of the conflict shall emerge the golden age. A VISION OF THE DAY It is not night where the glory streams! It is not night! Not even the night of the sun-clothed moon ashine in the wood, Not even the night when the soft little owls come fluttering down, To rest on your hand, and talk of the day they never see, And the white of the lambkin nestles against the lucivee's brown, And the needlessly sentinel egrets stalk on their hallowed rood. And the rivulet bubbles asparkle under the cypress tree, And the spice-filled winds from the forests of cinnamon set aright: Not even these fearless eves, — within the gates of delight. For ever the glory bathes the streets and the luminous walls Of the city renowned in the spheric realms of the sons of God ; 24 Songs of the Kingdom And the moon and the sun and the star in humility hide their face, And the arcs of the million-candled lamps are ashamed to shine; For infinite nadir and zenith glow with the radiant grace That wraps the crystalline sea and the tiniest blade in the sod, And the symboled thoughts of God are disclosed by the light divine. Day! It is day in the mind of man when the glory falls On the mote and the star and the dale-hid flower and the jasper walls! The heroes of time are gathered there, the kings of earth, — Martyrs and prophets and sages, of old, and the humble folk Whose ministry, lost in the mists of time, now glows for aye; Ay, kings of grace, and they bring their honor and glory there, Out of the murk of time's long night into endless day! Kings are they, and priests, no longer under the yoke, But royally robed with light, and crowned with miters fair: Heirs of the Lord of Heaven, children of royal birth, Into the city of glory march the glorious kings of earth. Afar, afar they hail from Eden's sealess bounds: From the fountains and verdant hills of the boreal Asherites, From the shires where the camels feed in the southern mead- ows of Gad, From the medial lands of the palm and the hearts of bold emprise; Till the highways sound with the swelling lays of souls made glad. And the shining throngs of the watchers greet from their crowning heights, Where the shepherds are shouting upon the hills against the skies, Chorusing group by group, till antiphonal rapture sounds .from the hills of the city of God to earth's remotest bounds. Songs of the Kingdom 25 Back to their Paradise heritage lost, in the garden of God, They come in the Sabbath's roseate morning, guided by love And the myriad-tinted emerald bow o'er the septimal heights, That springs where the fountain of infinite rivers of life awaits. And over the bridges of crystal and gold, with their diamond lights Asparkle in depths below like the stars in the deeps above, Converged to the tree of life, they enter the pearly gates, And they tread the glorified paths that the prime of their race first trod; For the city of God is built in the ancient garden of God. Oh, whose are the stars that marge the glow of the argent throne? Oh, whose are the coronets gleaming with constellations bright? Oh, whose are the sounding harps and the dulcimers sweet and high? And whose are the voices, musical, deep, like the surge of the sea, Like the psalms of the infinite upper deeps when their spirits cry, Singing: "Holy, holy, holy, Lord and God of all might, Who wast, and art, and art forever and ever to be"? These are the stars and the crowns and the joy of them that have grown Into the love that is the light of the great white throne. Forever they dwell in the land whose city hath endless day, Forever they shine, forever they praise, forever they grow In the wisdom of perfect knowledge of perfect and boundless love. And they write in their lives what they read in the breadth of Eden's plain, In the depths of the waters below, in the heights of the heaven above. 26 Songs of the Kingdom Blessed are they, thrice blessed are they, for that they know The love and the wisdom and power of their God. — And the pain Of knowledge is lost. — And the darkness of science is taken away: For there is no night! There is no night in the land of day! OH, I AM GLAD! Oh, I am glad that I was born in Time, Ere the great war of God had passed for aye, When they that would delight in deeds sublime Must press the ancient:. "Tell us of that day." "Tell us" — I see them clustering round the seer, The youthful habitants of new-born stars, — "Tell us those wondrous tales of Heaven's fear, When Heaven's life was flung into Earth's wars. " And wide their eyes, and clenched their tense white hands — Those supple fingers that erst sweep the lyre — While from Time's veteran there flow the strands That weave the epic of Earth's blood and fire. "Tell us of him that swung the sword of God Amidst the host foredoomed to watery death; Tell us of him that lifted up the rod Far in the desert where he heard God's breath. "Tell us of him that sweetly sung of love, When all his world about him seethed with hate; Tell us of him who calmly looked above When jealous satraps planned his horrid fate. "And He! and He! great Captain of the strife, Who stood, that time, alone before hell's host; Songs of the Kingdom 27 Who risked his own and heaven's infinite life, Who risked — and lost — and triumphed as he lost. "Tell us — amazing story of his power — How from his kingly shoulders down he thrust The yelling foe, and riving in that hour Hell's hope, upheld the kingdom of the just. "And then the story of the martyrs' fate, Those heroes of the faith that bled and died That they might pass to heirs, inviolate, The light-crowned banner of the Crucified. "Tell us of that last legion, glorious band, Who stood with iron-nerved limbs and steadfast look Through the last battle of the crime-racked land, While mountains crumbled and the heavens shook. "Tell us how final triumph crowned the war, With the great rebel to oblivion hurled; Tell us how everlasting peace afar Flung her eternal mantle o'er the world." They ask, and hear, those sons of later days; And Time's great story masters all their mind; And deep they marvel at God's wondrous ways In that far eon now left all behind. And then they turn them to their own fair page, Where Love in bounty and in beauty reigns, And say: "But ah! that unexampled age! How favored they who triumphed through its pains! " Oh, I am glad I live in Time, and Time's last hour, And I shall see the last great fight, and shout Upon the mount of triumph, when the power Of Satan has gone down in utter rout. 28 Songs of the Kingdom Oh, I am glad; for surely nevermore Can Love unfold such pageantry divine; And through what little part therein I bore There shall be joy and glory ever mine. THE DAWN IS BREAKING O'ER US The dawn is breaking o'er us. Look up, ye sons of night! There stretches on before us Eternal day's delight. Oh lift your trouble-burdened eyes, To meet the promise of the skies. Earth's shriveled bosom gloweth With lurid fires of hell; And wide the black King stroweth His merit medals fell. But look, look up! and see the prize That there lies blazoned on the skies. Look up, ye souls despairing; Ye sons of sorrow, sing. Upon his way is faring Full swiftly Heaven's King. His heralds now in glorious guise Fling out their banners on the skies. The dawn is breaking o'er us. Eternal morn is near. The night that long outwore us Shrinks back in mortal fear. O Earth, farewell! Our spirit flies To greet our kingdom in the skies. CROWNED OF LIFE 29 30 Songs of the Kingdom CROWNED OF LIFE Not multiplying broods of wrath, Nor bastard seed of strife, The everlasting victor hath That shall be crowned of Life. Not gain of war, from carnage sprung, A Moloch-gift, he brings, Nor incense in his censer swung The pomp beloved of kings. Lo, such shall come with coward fear Where heaven's court shall sit, When Time's short laurels wither sere, And God's fair lamps are lit. For as the arrow cleaves the air, Forgot when it is past, So he hath graved no record where The lots of life are cast. But he the hero crowned shall be That bore both toil and scorn, The seed of immortality Of love and patience born. His is the name o'er every name, A son of God indeed, Who held his soul above earth's fame, But stooped it 'neath earth's need. Virtue shall give her sure reward When Might hath had his day; Her offspring in eternal guard She well shall keep for aye. Triumphant hero, Virtue's child, Victorious in the strife, With prizes that are undefiled He shall be crowned of Life. Songs of the Kingdom 31 A SONG OF THE KING'S HIGHWAY Dark and devious are the ways That thread the mist-hung hills, And the luminous haze of the beacon's blaze The wight's poor heart but chills; For the high flames glare on the robber's lair And the camp of the brigand bold, Who steal the cheer of the hearthstone fair To lure for the lust of gold. Oh what is the goal of the twisting trail? And who shall find the track, If storms prevail and the senses fail To trace the footsteps back? For the clouds and the night have plotted the plight, And the thickets hide but foes, And the King's highway that holds in the light Is a way that no one knows. Ah, I have trodden those rocky steeps, And hung on the chasm's brink, Where the cataract leaps, and the traveler creeps, And the shuddering senses shrink. And I have spied on the furtive-eyed Who watch to plunder the souls That have wandered there for the lack of a guide And a strange confusion of goals. And now I raise my voice on high To pierce the dark defiles, That far or nigh, they may hear my cry With whom I walked the whiles. For the joy that fills and the peace that stills Have turned the night to day, And my heart goes singing over the hills: For I walk the King's highway. 32 Songs of the Kingdom A CANTICLE IN WAR Glory to thee, Father, and Author of glory! In these dread days, At altars of death-stricken homes and battlefields gory We offer thee praise! Not with the offering of blood make we an oblation — Sacrifice vain — Though drenched is thy footstool by nation on nation With blood profane. We offer no sacrifice to thee, but, bowed in sorrow, Lowly we kneel, Praying that after this darkness some happy tomorrow Thy face shall reveal. For though the heavens above us are crashing with thunder, And earth beneath Reels with the blows of the pitiless swords that sunder Loves in black death, Still to thy throne, the seat of immutable justice, We lift our eyes, Knowing that out of the turmoil we yet shall witness Some glad surprise. For though the madness of nations, in wrath and in terror, Cast down the right, Soon shall be ended that madness, and evil, and error, Before thy might. Light from the darkness ! Out of the midnight thy glory ! From battle to peace! For in the battle of battles is ended earth's story, And time shall cease. In these dread days. At altars of death-stricken homes and battlefields gory We offer Thee praise ! Not with the offering of blood make we an oblation — Sacrifice vain — ■ Though drenched is thy footstool by nation on nation With blood profane. We offer no sacrifice to Thee, but, bowed in sorrow, Lowly we kneel. Praying that after this darkness some happy tomorrow Thy face shall reveal. For though the heavens above us are crashing with thunder, And earth beneath Reels with the blows of the pitiless swords that sunder Loves in black death, Still to Thy throne, the seat of immutable justice. We lift our eyes, Knowing that out of the turmoil we yet shall witness Some glad surprise. For though the madness of nations, in wrath and in terror, Cast down the right, Soon shall be ended that madness, and evil, and error, Before Thy might. Light from the darkness! Out of the midnight Thy glory! From .battle to peace! For in the battle of battles is ended earth's story, And time shall cease. Then, though war rage, and evil blast men with its wages. Glory to Thee! For lo, we behold, enwrapped in the doom of the Eternity! Songs of the Kingdom 33 Then, though war rage, and evil blast men with its wages, Glory to thee! For lo, we behold, enwrapped in the doom of the ages, Eternity! THE DEATHLESS NAMES Not with the flaunt of banner, Not with the roll of drum, Not with the blare of martial air, The cross's heroes come. Not with the trumpet's music, But with clank of captive's chain, And the martyr's pyre for the welcoming fire That greets the conqueror's train. Graved on their marble tablets, Earth's lists of heroes stand, Whose pride and hate, in church and state, Have harried and crushed the land. Cold is the hand of warrior, Cruel the heart of priest, And the weight of woe their victims know Has age by age increased. But healing the wounds of battle, Transmuting the dungeon's sigh, The foes of strife bring God's own life Unto the souls that die. Soft as the dews of evening, Light as the zephyr's breath, They bring a peace that shall never cease Into the fields of death. 34 Songs of the Kingdom These are the cross's heroes, These the legion of God, Whose high emprise the flaming skies Shall blazon to realms untrod. Not with the world's brief plaudits! Not with the tongue of time! But the names of the meek shall the angels speak In eternity's tones sublime. GOD OUR GOD They say, who guard the gates of hell, "Aha! the snares are set, The cords await to bind him well, The victim, in our net. Upon his way he stumbleth; He is devoted unto death." But who is God save our God, And who is Hope but he, Who looseth bands, destroyeth snares. And them foul taken unawares Setteth at liberty? haughty peoples, that contemn The stricken's mortal cry, Not yours the succors saved for them Ye have foredoomed to die. Loud shall your startled anguish ring When Death shall claim to be your king. For who is God save our God, And who is Life but he, Thatfeedeth not the pride of men, But giveth to the poor again Life in infinity? Songs of the Kingdom 35 Our God, he liveth, and the life In hope and love outrolls To them whose souls are prize of strife, And them who rescue souls. He standeth on the road of Death, And them that will he rescueth. For who is God save our God, And who is Love but he? And them alone his hand shall bless Whose greatness is their gentleness, Whose power their charily. THE SHOUT OF VICTORY As when a standard-bearer falls, The hush of doom is felt, As when the trumpet fainter calls, The dread of doom is dealt; Then, clear and strong and masterful, The Captain's voice rings out, — Hear now, my comrades, hear! and full Echo the victor-shout: "To fore! to fore! and victory! Strengthen the feeble hands. For on, and on, my standards press; I succor him who feeleth stress, And mine is victory!" As when the day grows old in strife, And dark the shadows lower, And redly gush the streams of life, And nears the crucial hour; 36 Songs of the Kingdom Then cheerly through the murk and gloom The Captain's voice rings out, — Hear now, my comrades! Grip your doom, And with your Captain shout: "Good cheer! good cheer! and victory! Confirm the sinking knees. Lift up your hopes that downward droop, For fast my succors to you troop, And yours the victory!" As when on front and flank and rear Exultant foes assail, And hope is challenged loud by fear, And courage bids to fail; Then thundering fire and ringing steel Echo the Captain's shout, — Charge, comrades! for the hour is weal, And let your cry ring out: " Charge on! charge on! to victory! Uplift the drooping head. For God and the cause! for the King and right! For one more charge shall win this fight, And ours the victory!" THE WATERS OF TREMBLING Down by the Waters of Trembling, Brother, we stand, Many are they who have left us, Slender our band. Yonder the host of oppressors Shout for the fight. Songs of the Kingdom 37 Forward! our Leader bids us; Strive for the right! Over the Waters of Trembling Onward we press. What! are there those among us Feel not the stress? Stay they in careless pleasure, Stooping to quaff? Before the frown of the battle, Leisure to laugh? Out of the thirty-two thousand. Ten only remained; Through the Waters of Trembling Three hundred have strained. Who shall order the battle With fifteen score? Fateful the Waters of Trembling We struggled o'er! Think on your homes and hearthsides, Ye brief of breath, Stretched on the bloody altar, Oblation to death! Nay; for the thought is unworthy! Face toward the foe! In the name of Jehovah, tomorrow To vict'ry we go! He shall order the battle; How, is for Him. 38 Songs of the Kingdom Loud blare your trumpets, nor suffer Lights to grow dim. Hail to the coming battle! Brother, your hand! Tried by the Waters of Trembling, Dauntless we stand. MINE OWN; HIS OWN Down from the mountain's top I swing, And the trail is perilous steep. To the rock's sheer face, sometimes I cling, Sometimes by the precipice creep. The way is stony, and thorny, and rough, Yet from not a peril I quail; For to me the gladdening thought is enough: I go to mine own in the vale. I have toiled all day in a human lair, Where the wolf might seek his own: I have prayed where strange was the voice of prayer f I have stood for my God alone. But now I turn toward my home of rest, And my weary foot springs free; For though a belated, a longed-for guest, Mine own will welcome me. There are eyes that watch 'neath a shading hand To tell when I draw near To the firelit circle, my little band, Who are saying, "He's almost here." And I mind not the way that is rough and steep, And I pause not for brier or stone; For I feel my heart within me leap To the welcome of mine own. Songs of the Kingdom 39 But One there was who came to his own, — Ah, the way was cruel hard, And the path was one he must tread alone, Where none could guide or guard. Far down in the vale he came from above To cast with his own his lot; He came to his own with a voice of love, — And his own received him not. He had lived his life in a home of rest- In the light of his Father's smile, And he left his Father's home on the quest To seek his brothers vile. They saw him coming across their lands, And they scowled their murderous hate, And they crushed out his life with their bloody hands As he stepped within their gate. His own? Yea. Their door swung wide, But not for him it turned; Afar to strangers their voices cried, But him, their Own, they spurned. The heart that was yearning for them was burst; The joy that was springing, died; His people their Own esteemed accursed; Their Own they crucified. REST IN THEE We crowd our lives with anxious cares; Our thoughts are born unfree; We crucify our hurried prayers Upon a service tree. The gleanings that our toils afford We bring on bended knee; But O for that deep peace, our Lord, That we might rest in Thee! 40 Songs of the Kingdom THE GREATEST GIFT Solomon prayed on Gibeon's height, (Solomon, David's son) And God, he gave to Solomon there A gift in token of his prayer, The greatest gift, — save one! Silver and gold are precious things, Sought by serfs and loved by kings; They buy the meat by which men live, Silks and cedar and wine they give; They heap the board of the fortunate, They settle the glooming prisoner's fate; They make the splendor of princes' rooms, They gloss the horror of dead men's tombs. And naught men know hath greater worth: For silver and gold, they rule the earth. But Solomon prayed, and not for these. (Solomon prayed alone) And Solomon asked, in his heart of hearts, A greater gift then the badge of marts; The greatest gift, — save one! Bright is the joy of an honored name, And who is the man that shunneth fame?— The right of men of sturdy heart, Their meed who act a kingly part; Honor of state and fame of school, Loved of the wise and sought of the fool. Town and country, and land and sea, Past, and present, and time to be, They call to men with their greatest lure: "Your gold may perish, but fame is sure." Was Solomon stone when he prayed his prayer? (Praying at set of sun) Songs of the Kingdom 41 For he heeded no whit the siren's voice When out of life's gifts he made his choice Of the greatest gift, — save one! Above all wealth and ease and fame, Above revenge for a blasting shame, High as heaven and deeper than death, Longer of life than time of breath, Standeth above, below, and beyond, The prize of wisdom, life's sure bond. For wisdom is sweeter than Araby's dew, And wisdom is stronger then steel and thew; And wisdom, that dwells in the heart of kings, Is precious above this world's vain things. When Solomon prayed at the great high place (Just as the day was done) The gift he begged was wisdom's power, And the gift was given him in that hour, The greatest gift, — save one! For gold shall perish, and fame shall cease, And might shall falter, and strife be peace, And wisdom, that rules in the light of day, Shall enter the shades, and pass away. But the greatest gift, it never dies, An incorruptible, deathless prize. Meek yet dauntless, lowly but great, Under all service, above all fate, It dwells in the deeps, it is born above; This greatest gift is the gift of love. Had Solomon prayed on Gibeon's day (Praying as David's Son) For the greatest gift God could bestow, All gifts above, all gifts below Had been given in that one. 42 Songs of the Kingdom A PRAYER FOR LOVE Lord, not for power I pray, in need or whim To make men gape at splendor of my rule; Though much is his, and much is due from him, That binds the froward and outwits the fool. But not for power to make supreme my sway, No, not for power to rule for thee, I pray. Lord, not for eloquence to charm the crowd With sounding periods voiced, or plaudits sung, Though blest is he that can abase the proud And cheer the humble by his facile tongue; Yet, Lord, for fervor of the spoken word, For eloquence, let not my prayer be heard. Not, Lord, for judgment do I make my prayer, For keen and critic insight into wrong; Though he that judgeth doth all honor bear, To help the feeble and to guide the strong. Yet now I covet not the piercing sword; Give me not judgment with my frailty, Lord. But one full boon from thee, O Lord, I crave: The gift of loving, not to be denied; That though myself I can not, would not save, I may reveal the spirit of the Crucified; That whether loved or hated, bound or free, I may, by loving, make men more like thee. FOR THE DAY OF DEATH 43 44 Songs of the Kingdom FOR THE DAY OF DEATH Lieth a day all broken, broken, Stained with the blood of mangled hearts, Clasping a grief that can not be spoken, Deep where the fount of anguish starts, And the light of life departs. Cometh a day all glory, glory, Fused with the light of the City of Gold, Rounding the tale of an old, old story That can not for wonder be fully told, Though the books of God unfold. Dawneth a day with rapture throbbing, Banishing thought of Death's alarms, When babes for the breasts of mothers sobbing (Last of the echoes of sorrow's storms) Shall burden the angel's arms. GOD'S WARRIORS (H. R. S., Dec. 30, 1915) They love not life who war for God; They beg no boon of death. They hear Christ's challenge to the foe, Not what he answereth. They ask not where nor how is ease; They shirk no danger zone. Perchance they charge with comrades true, Mayhap they die alone. Songs of the Kingdom 45 The desert marks their high resolve; Their power the city knows; Their faith is branded on the seas, And on th' eternal snows. count not them who fall, as dead; For, victors in the strife, In Christ they live, through ceasing time And through eternal life. They loved not life unto the death: Their valor cheers us on! Please God, their places shall be filled Until the fight is won! A PSALM OF SORROW (G. A. I., May 13, 1913) Weep for the dead; for the light hath failed, The light of life hath fled, And the gray, dim shadows have prevailed; Weep, yea, weep for the dead. But weep, weep not for the dead alone: Weep for the living world For whom the joy of life is flown And the banner of hope is furled. Weep sweetly, sweetly for the dead, And be not all forlorn; For deep is the peace of that lowly bed That bridgeth night to morn. 46 Songs of the Kingdom But sorrowful, sorrowful be your moan For the living, cold and grim, From whom the peace of God is flown: Weep, weep sore for him. Like stars that fade in the morning light Are the righteous in their death; Like gleams that die in the depths of night Axe the lost that keep their breath. Weep, then, and bear with gentle hands The loved to his God- watched tomb; But weep, and labor to break the bands That bind the world to its doom. A SOLDIER OF THE LAST LEGION (A. A. S., April 7, 1906) The tread of marching feet is stilled, Our banners for a moment stand, While, for the last, we touch the hand, And breathe the farewell God has willed. Not again shall the trumpet's ring Call thee, comrade, into the fray; Thy service ends with the ending day; The morn shall disclose thy guerdoning King. Just as the rim of the red sun dips, Just as the black night's terrors fall, Thou nearest the voice of another call, And the blade from thy hand reluctant slips. Songs of the Kingdom 47 Just as the sun goes down in the west, And the bugles blare for ordered rank; — And with girded loins, in the trenches dank We leave thee, comrade, awhile to rest. For the lines are arrayed*, and the great trump's voice Is sounding the grand charge o'er and o'er, And Christ's last legion is faced to the fore: Our place is with them; we have no choice. This night shall see on the field of Time The final struggle, the victor-stroke; And the far-stretched pall of the battle-smoke Shall dispel to the music of heaven's chime. God rest thee, comrade; grief is o'er: Thou fellest o'er whelmed in the heavy fight; But, victory-bound through the last fierce night, Christ's last legion is faced to the fore. NAIN Rest the bier, comrades. Drop to the earth your burdens: Hands that the King has touched are devoted to other deeds. He has raised gladness up from the leaden couch of sorrow; He has passed on his way to the finding of others' needs, And he bids you follow him. Time there was when he looked on your tears with pity, Fashioned his way to meet you as you sought the grave. Now, — hear his calm voice as he questions in gentle wonder , "Know ye not, friends, that 1 came? that my hand was stretched to save? Why are your eyes still dim?" 48 Songs of the Kingdom Glowing with love is the path that stretches toward Juda, The path that lies thick with stones, and scarred by the autumn rains. Feet there must be upheld by the spirit of that strong Master, Pressing on to the Bethanys, leaving behind the Nains: The cup has yet to brim. Lazarus sleeps, but his sleep shall find an awakening: Cometh the day of the visitation on Olivet's height. Lift up your heads; and voice not a bitter and weary sorrow; Behold, the captives shall burst through the gates of the Hadean night. In the arms of the cherubim. THE PEACE OF GOD Peace as the peace of the soundless sea, Tranquilly serene, When out of the blue infinity God's smile is seen. Peace as the peace of the rock-knit strand, Adamant, undismayed, Calm in the trust of a high command: "Proud waves, be stayed!" Not on the league of a thousand clans, Not on the flashing sword; It waits, the peace that Eternity plans, On the word of the Lord. The Peace of God Arthur W. Spalding OEACE as the peace of the soundless seu Tranquilly serene. When out of the blue infinity God s srriile is seen. Peace as the peace of the rock-knit strand. Adamant, undismayed, Calm in the trust of a high command: "Proud waves, be stayed! Not on the league of a thousand clans, Not on the flashing sword; It waits, the peace that Eternity plans. On the word of the Lord. Songs of the Kingdom 49 AND ISRAEL MOURNED (E. G. W., July 16, 1915) Upon the sweet Sabbatic calm The evil tidings swept; And, hushing every joyful psalm, An orphaned people wept. Alas, that human lips must tell The somber message dread: "0 Israel! O Israel! Thy sainted seer is dead!" Long, long the tale of freighted years That marked the judge's seat, From Shiloh's mingled hopes and fears To Ramah's counsel sweet. The chorus of their graces swell The lamentation sore: "O Israel! O Israel! Thy prophet speaks no more!" What hand hath not that guidance felt, Or sore-pressed heart that touch, When wayward life its impulse dealt And sorrow overmuch? What tender memories compel That saddened, low refrain: "O Israel! Israel! Thy comforter is slain!" But hush, thou Jacob, feeble, faint, Beset by traitor foe; Take thee a paean for thy plaint, A kingdom for thy blow. 50 Songs of the Kingdom With seer and prophet all is well. — Loud let the heavens ring: "0 Israel! O Israel! Prepare to meet thy King!" A LITTLE WHILE (Z. W. E., October 15, 1918) "Just going away for a little while!" She smiled as she passed the door. Dear God, our thanks for that tender smile; For oh, our hearts are sore: A little while, yes, a little while, — But for time and earth, No more! The leaves are sere that then were green, The paths are cold with rain; And all that is felt and all that is seen Are messages of pain, Save the smile and the words that intervene Like sunshine through the rain. "A little while!" I can hear the call Through the dark that veils the view; And I know that the veil is about to fall And the day to spring anew, When the hands shall clasp and the voices call As they were wont to do. Just gone away for a little while! Dear God, make us to be So busied with thee that the fearful trial Shall press but quietly, Till we see again her greeting smile In the life that is to be. Songs of the Kingdom 51 SHALL WIPE ALL TEARS Shall wipe all tears! His hand shall wipe all tears! How sweet the promise in the mourner's ears! Sin-cursed and sorrow-drenched, the old Earth cries, In wonder from the couch whereon she lies: "Ah life! ah love! my fainting spirit hears, — God's hand, his hand, shall wipe away all tears!" All tears? Those tears of pain the corded brow Wrings forth despite the hero's fiercest vow? Tears that are sweat-drops of o'erlaboring life, That ooze from blow of bludgeon or of knife? Shall there be surcease of the pain-swept years? E'en so! for God shall wipe away all tears. All tears? The tears of anguish none can miss; That mock the suffering mother's loving kiss? That shriek their farewell on the fateful seas? That smite to prostrate forms the bended knees? Yea, these: the awesome and the gladsome epoch nears, When God, our God, shall wipe away all tears. God's hand shall wipe the tears! Oh gracious touch! We who have nothmg shall receive so much! Stooped from the Throne to heed our tearful prayers, He lifts us where unknown are tears and cares. The hand that guides the stars and shapes the spheres, Our father's hand, shall wipe away our tears. THE STROKE OF GOD (Ezekiel 24: 16-18.) O Seer, that knew'st no passion but the holy joy Of serving Him, invisible, by thee beheld, What thoughts assailed thee on that day that didst destroy The dearest passion of the human heart unquelled? 52 Songs of the Kingdom The smiling palms of Aram's plains drooped low with grief, And Chebar's sluggish stream wept floods of sympathy; But tears and sighs were not for thee to bring relief: A woe too deep to utter moan was portioned thee. Set for an omen of thy people's coming woe, Dry-eyed above the bier thou took'st the signal stroke, Spake in the morning what thy God didst bid thee show, Bowed at the eventide beneath the heavy yoke. Thrice and again thy word had summer's fiery breath Borne, warning, to the rebels of thy stiff-necked race; Four winters had thy summons to impending death Brought no repentant turning to a pardoning grace. Then, swift and sudden, on thy meek, vicarious head Fell there the stroke of God, that they, the blind, might see. Stricken for them, thine eyes undimmed beheld thy dead And they, thy people, saw their ominous doom in thee' What, when thy hard commission first thine ears did hear, — As flint thy forehead and as iron thy brow, — What of the stone and steel did thy devotion fear Was pent for thine own heart within thine ardent vow? Ah, not for thee to con and reckon were the stones; The hand that reached to lead thee could supply thy need. As in the valley of the dry and scattered bones, Thy cry, "Ah Lord, thou knowest," held thy simple creed. And when the hour of anguish came no other knows Than he whose wedded flesh quivers beneath the blade, Came with the hour transcendent power of repose In Him whose wisdom all the ordeal made. O Seer of God, across the dim and blackened page Where men have traced the record of their doubt-filled span, Bright shines the glory of thy faith from age to age, To fire the spirit of the fear-beleaguered man. Songs of the Kingdom 53 Wondering, I trace the splendors of thy visions rare, Wherein the glories of thy God thou didst behold; Yet with a deeper thrill I guide mine eye to where The pen of God thy humble sufferings doth unfold. And in mine hour of anguish, when I would despair, May I remember, and in fellowship with thee, Before my God be able, answering to my prayer, To write the word, "I did as he commanded me." SHALL SORROW PITCH HER SABLE TENT? Shall Sorrow pitch her sable tent Upon my ruined hope, And make despair my cerement 'Neath death's eternal cope? Must Joy for aye refuse to sit And quaff my wine of life, Because I brewed and ripened it In gloomy vaults of strife? No! I will thrust my grief away, And mock mine ancient foe; For God hath made another day For hope again to grow. And there shall climb anew the vine, Whose clusters in my hand Shall make sweet Joy a guest of mine Within a sunny land. 54 Songs of the Kingdom NOT FOREVER Oh, not forever shall these granite piles Uplift their triumph over conquered men; Not always creep the funereal files, Swathed in the mystery passing human ken; Not always smite the swords that human loves dissever. No, not forever. The gray old lichens clothe the mouldering rock, Where sculptured Hope and Faith still upward gaze; Still wait the patient hosts to hear the shock Of God's great trumpets sounding on his ways: But not for aye they halt before that sullen river; No, not forever. Hear, ye abodes of sorrow-haunted death! Ye halls of Hades, mark the herald's cry! Ye shall give back, your glorious Conqueror saith, The men that perish and the babes that die; And nevermore shall be, to press your foul endeavor, — No, not forever. And thou, dread Sovereign that dost guard those gates, Thine hour hath struck; the Judge thy case arraigns! No more shalt thou adjudge the fearful fates, Nor lead the mangled souls of men in chains, Nor, gleeful, watch again in death pale lips aquiver; No, not forever. Bright o'er earth's hills, upon earth's sable night, Break now the glories of the Kingdom's day. A moment, and the bars with sudden might Shall burst before the King upon his way; And Death again shall grave his records never, never! No, not forever! MY SANCTUARY 55 56 Songs of the Kingdom MY SANCTUARY I do not find the world a place of love; For every man goes barbed with private rights; Who must, he parries; and who can, he smites; The trodden murmur, and the headlong shove; And* world-forgetful, if some urchin sing, There lights upon him wrath of priest or king. Through haunts of fear and misery I move. The nightmare of the sodden faces frights, While lust blots o'er the face of pure delights; And oh! the world, it sorely lacks for love. And I, if I must strive to fill that lack, Where shall I go, and gain ere I come back? The crowd are not awaiting love from me: They know not any love, and count them lies, — The tales of cheer, the deeds of sacrifice; And only looks of moping unbelief I see. But oh, their downcast eyes are never drawn above; They do not know my secret place of love. Within the vail that balks the ribald gaze There lies the sanctuary of my heart; And they who minister with me in part Delight to serve within that holy place. For not alone for us is censer waved: We serve that all the world, perchance, be saved. An outer and an inner shrine are there: The first, our sacred common minister place; The second, where we see our Father's face; The first is home; the next, the place of prayer. And here the sacred fire shall ever flame; And there, we hide our face before the Name. Songs of the Kingdom 57 And oh, when heart is numb and hands grow cold Against the frozen anguish that we move, How sweet to know the great rebirth of love Awaits me there behind the curtain's fold! And, as a pleader for the world's great woe, Within my sanctuary as a priest I go. WHERE MY FATHER WALKS The twilight drifts upon the land; the night calls come again; And chafed in spirit from the wiles and artifice of men, 1 turn my face from all the pride that at my suffering mocks, And seek the road that leads away to where my Father walks. Between the moimtain heights that loom upon the dark ravine (The markings of his finger-trace, as of a hand unseen), My feet are guided to the spot where his have often stood, And keep the sacred tryst behind the curtains of the wood. I see no face, but in the gloam I dimly trace the care His loving hand has had to make the trysting place so fair: From low rhodora to the pine, from peeping violet And galax meek, to fir and oak in towering grandeur set. The murmur of his soothing voice is in the singing stream, The lighting of his eye is caught in sunlight's farewell gleam. The benediction of his breath is in the stirring air, The stately steppings of his feet in silence everywhere. The wildness' solitude uplifts to greet my silent soul, And waves of peace and thankfulness in glory o'er me roll; The promises of Holy Writ rejoin the words of prayer; And when I leave the place, I know my God has met me there. 58 Songs of the Kingdom GRACE ABOUNDING Not worthy, Lord, to touch thy garment's hem! Not worthy that thy power shouldst thrill me through: How should I feel the pulse of life anew, Whom life hath looked on only to condemn? Not worthy, Lord, that thou shouldst pass my door! My craft hath led me with the violent; Apart from thee my youthful strength was spent, And now for others can I ask for more? Not worthy, Lord, that thou shouldst call my name! Thine own, I once professed, I have profaned; The ardor of my early love hath waned: Not favor, Lord, is due to me, but blame. But ah, that touch, that look, have healed my soul! That word, far speeding, hath its wonders wrought! That honor given, all my powers hath bought: Not half, as once, dear Lord; — I give the whole! DECISION The day of hesitance is done; My soul is girded for the fight. One cause, one end, before my sight, And all my wills become but one. What mean the moiithings of the day,— The shout, the plea, the subtle jests? One word alone my thoughts arrests, One hand points out my chosen way. Songs of the Kingdom 59 I brood no longer: earth and sky Peal forth the summons of God's host, The last great answer to the boast Of Him who is foredoomed to die. The day of hesitance is done; My life is plighted as a whole; I know no more divided soul; God is triumphant, glory won. FROM THE VALLEY OF CURSING Let it not be of me, my Lord Jehovah, Let it not be of me to bring thee defame: Thy children who love thee are threatened dishonor; Let it not be of me to cover with shame. Afar from my kindred, and alien to lovers, The zeal of thy cause hath led me away; And they that reproach me reproach thee in common : Accept me, O God, and save me, I pray. Thou knowest, O Lord, my foolishness wanton; My sins that are hidden are not hid to thee; But thou art my covert, thou art my Saviour; From the grim swift avenger to refuge I flee. Now through the abundance of thy lovingkindness, Answer me, Lord, in the truth of thy Word; And past earth's wild jeers and vile imprecations Shall the sweet strains of heaven's paeans be heard. 60 Songs of the Kingdom HEART'S DESIRE (Elizabeth Maud Victoria, Nov. 1, 1914) They did not tell us, Heart's Desire, That we would love you so; They could not carry weighty news, Because they did not know. They knew the trouble and the pain, The treasure-forming fire; But of that treasure's worth, — not they, Little Heart's Desire. Through months and days we dreamed of you, And formed some wide surmise. Now out of dreamland you have come, With wonder in your eyes, And tiny fingers wandering free Along our heart-strung lyre. Ah, wondrous music you evoke, Little Heart's Desire. Why came you hither, little one? What need of grace have we, That midst the earth's cold misery Such priceless joy should be? And what does he, the Giver, ask? What covenant require? What might we pledge to match his gift, Little Heart's Desire? Ah, naught of gold and naught of blood Shall be our sacrifice: The love you bring us we conjoin To love beyond the skies. Songs of the Kingdom 61 And when this lower school has closed, Still may we, in the higher, Teach you the love we thus are taught, Little Heart's Desire. MY FATHER I once lived in a garden, A garden fair as day, And I was pure and happy, And perfect in my way. So that was why God loved me? Oh, nay! and nay! and nay! And once against the giants I bent my mighty bow, To rid the earth of ravage And lay oppression low. And was't for this God loved me? Not so! indeed not so! And once with wondrous learning I battled for the truth; I flayed debasing errors, And slew them without ruth. And so for this God loved me? Nay ! not for that, in sooth. But last — forgot my prowess — I lowly bent my head, While awe and wonder held me, Above a little bed: " Now know I why God loves me, In very truth," I said. 62 Songs of the Kingdom LIKE AS A FATHER "like as a father!" What, O Lord, am I, To serve as symbol of thy matchless love? "A father pitieth when his children cry." Own I that pity that hath birth above? "Like as a father! " When light strength is spent, And the heart breaketh o'er the petty task, And childish fear sets up its monument, Is succor ready ere my children ask? "Like as a father!" In the wayward hour, When creeping evil palsies all the will, And the soul's windows mirror demon power, Keep I the father's love and pity still? "Like as a father!" When the sore heart lies Wounded and quivering from the stunning fall, Know I the splendor of the glad surprise That leaps to meet a father's tender call? 1 ' Like as a father ! " Nay ; with what gray shame, O thou my God, — and yet what thrilling hope, I hear thee name thyself with my poor name, Dazzling the eyes on which thy portals ope. Father in heaven, teach me, by the sign Of thy calm conquest of my fretted life, The science of a father's power benign O'er all his children's sorrows and their strife. Songs of the Kingdom 63 THE SEER I walked upon a beach where children played, A-piling mounds and digging in the sand, And in a while anear a group I strayed. Then one, a flaxen-haired and sturdy king, Looked up, and, heartened by a ready smile, Invited me, "Come play with us a while." And so they gave me place, and I my hand Gave to the achievements of the infant ring. Then grew the castles and the battlements, Then spread the gardens and the tourney fields; And story grew along, of priest and prince, Of high-born lady and of courtly squire; Till, bathed in romance, every sandy pile To think it granite did their minds beguile; And with the cheer the fond delusion yields, They planned to raise their deathless structures higher. But I looked out upon the sea: the tide Had turned; the combing breakers reared Their crests anear; and to the lads I cried, "See how the waves are coming in! no more Can we stay here I Let us get up and go Back to the safe ground, where no waves will flow. " And even as I spoke, the waters neared. " See, see ! " I cried, ' ' We are too near the shore ! ' ' But he, my little captain, owned no dread: With sturdy back bent o'er, " I do not see, " And then, "I do not want to see," he said; "You be the seer — and I — and I will build. 64 Songs of the Kingdom But if you're tired, go off awhile and rest, And then come back and build; that will be best! Tomorrow you shall tell some more to me; I'll have more castles with the gallants filled. " "Ah me!" I thought, "How sad to be a seer!" And many a day since then have I so sighed; For vision men are wont to know as fear, While they, the sure and fearless, work amain. "Build with us, " say they, "but if you are tired, Go rest, then come and use the strength acquired; For these our works shall to the end abide: Give them the measure of your brawn and brain. " And if I speak of danger: "Fear it not!" And if I laud the stable: "These are so!" And if I pray for wideness: "Hast forgot The sea's great beach is stretched around the land?" But if I would or I would not, I see! And I must warn, for others' sakes. For me, If I would see or not, I do not know; But, under touch of God, a seer I stand. THE LIEGES OF THE KING Three little babes, in the days of the King, There were born in Bethlehem, And the Lord bade the angels in glory sing, While he bid for the love of them. And one lay in purple, in rags lay one, And one was in fustian clad; But prince, or beggar, or peasant's son, Each was a likely lad. Songs of the Kingdom 65 And a gallant court would they make for the King Who was born that day with them, When the Lord in heaven their robes should bring For the feast of Bethlehem. Three little babes in their cradles lay, And the mothers crooned a song. Sang one: "My son a nobleman gay Shall shine in the courtly throng.' ' Sang one: "A beggar thou shalt not be When the King shall see thy worth." Sang one: "Though now thou must bend the knee, Thou shalt sit with the great of earth." And when they were grown, the King one day Asked for the love of them; But the nobleman turned his eyes away To look at a costly gem. And the beggar said, "Wilt thou make me prince, In thy council great to stand?" And the peasant said, "If thou wilt convince The rich to give me his land!" Then the King he sighed; but he waited well, For at last a leper stole, And, "I pray thee heal," he cried as he fell. "I will," said the King, "Be whole!" Three crosses were raised on a bleak, gray hill, — A King, with robbers beside: "Grant me," cried one, "that have known but ill, To be with thee glorified!" 66 Songs of the Kingdom Tender the hands that took the King, All bruised, from the cross, in the gloom; And a prince besought, "I pray you bring And lay him in my tomb." Then the Lord bade the angels in glory sing, That he had the love of them Who long before in the days of the King Were born in Bethlehem. BARTIMEUS Out from the gates of Jericho, One beautiful day in the long ago, There poured a throng of men and boys, And the narrow road was filled with the noise: Till blind Bartimeus raised his head, Lifted his voice, and shrilly said: "Who is it passing, passing by? Who is it, passing, heeds not my cry?" Thus with the careless crowd he plead, "Tell me, O tell me, who's passing by?" Faster they thronged, and louder grew Babel of voice and noise of shoe, While blind Bartimeus reached in vain Hands that were shaking and voice full of pain ; Till some there answered who pitied him, Sitting so helpless of eye and limb: "Jesus of Nazareth passeth by, Healer of hand and ear and eye," — Told him in pity whose eyes were dim, "Jesus of Nazareth passeth by." Songs of the Kingdom 67 Straight to his feet the blind man sprang; High o'er the din his shrill voice rang: "Jesus, thou Son of David, I pray, Have mercy on me and heal me today!" And through the throng, he knew not where, He pushed to find Jesus and say to him there: "Jesus of Nazareth, pass me not! Let not in thy mercy my plea be forgot!" Thus in his trembling he offered his prayer: "Jesus of Nazareth, pass me not!" Then some rebuked him, and pushed him aside: "Hold now thy peace; he is busy," they cried. But, never stopping, he pressed on his way; Trembling and groping, he would not stay; And, from the murmur, high over all, Louder and shriller still came his call: "Jesus of Nazareth, pass not by! Jesus, O Jesus, hear my cry!" On every ear that voice must fall: "Jesus of Nazareth, pass not by!" The march was stayed, and the murmur died; For Jesus had stopped, and there to his side He called the blind man, and the bindings burst; And he opened his eyes on Jesus first. Then, as they traveled, he passed in the train, Singing and shouting the glad refrain: "Jesus of Nazareth healed me today! Opened my eyes by a word, I say!" So glad, he called again and again: "Jesus of Nazareth healed me today!" 68 Songs of the Kingdom A SONG OF EVENING I've just a little work to do before the sun goes down, A little redding up of things before the master comes, A perking of the children and a touch to cap and gown, A brushing of the hearthstone where the kettle purrs and hums. And oh, and oh, 'tis joy to me To sift the crowding noises of the evening's curtain-fall, A-harking and a-listing for the step that is to be, And then the rushing welcome, and the restful peace, and all ! The master in the wheatfields, afar and far away, And I with pots and needlework within my humble cot, A-bent on duty's love-lit task, have toiled the tiring day; For pretty infants weight as well as light the lowly 's lot. But oh, and oh, each darling one, I'm far from wishing you agone, and bairnless wedders we; For sure you are the hours that link the morn to setting sun; You prison both our pairs of hands, but set our love-hearts free. The cows are coming up the lane, the sheep bells tinkle soft, The green hills blacken in their rear, and all the fields grow dim; The sun's bold banners crumple from their battlements aloft, And on the rugged cottage walls the leaping fire-flames limn. And oh, and oh, my heart's delight! I hear the quickening footfalls of the master at the door! And what care I for dreeful day and somber falling night? For I have clasped the love of life, and what should I have more? Songs of the Kingdom 69 The master sits at steaming board, and prays a grateful thanks; And then he rests before the fire, a child at either knee, And once he tells them wondrous tales, and once admires their pranks, And once he nestles them in bed, and once he looks at me. "And oh, and oh, my dear!" I cry, "This joy is like a pledge of heaven, that on our cot doth fall. " And reverent in his mood, saith he, "Betrow that you and I Await with that same joy of love the Master of us all." THE SABBATH SEAL The Sabbath hour draws on apace, And I, a wanderer, My journey backward swiftly trace, To loved and lone afar, Where, in the kingdom of my heart, My little children sing: ("Safely through another week God has brought us on our way; Let us now a blessing seek, Waiting in his courts today.") Unseen, but glad, I take my part, A king beneath a King. Around me surge a graceless crowd, Intent on mirth and gain; To them the earth-tones cry aloud, The heavenly voice in vain. But far, afar, my heart will hail The voices now that sing; 70 Songs of the Kingdom ("Sweet hour of prayer, sweet hour of prayer! That calls me from a world of care, And bids me at my Father's throne Make all my wants and wishes known. ") And all the tumults round me fail To shut me from my King. The brooding shadows forward thrust Their lengthening wings abroad, And plain and mountain hide their dust In an empurpled sod; And, blending all the world in one, A myriad voices sing: ("Softly now the light of day Fades upon our sight away; Free from care, from labor free, Lord, we would commune with Thee. ") The week is past, the day is done; We stand before our Kiug. Blest Sabbath-day, thy precious hand Hath drawn me closer home; And, deeper thought! thy soft command | Shall teach me not to roam. Speed thee, speed us, that glorious way, Till all the saints shall sing, ("Holy, holy, holy! angels adore Thee, Casting down their bright crowns around the glassy sea; Thousands and ten thousands worship low be- fore Thee, Which wert, and art, and evermore shall be.") When on that deathless Sabbath-day We join our heavenly King. AH, THIS SWEET WORLD 71 72 Songs of the Kingdom AH, THIS SWEET WORLD Ah, this sweet world has store of good To fill my hungering. And hands stretch out from field and wood To bless their humble king. The rushes by the roadside well, The maples' flaunting dress, The mellow tlang of far-found bell, — These satisfy and bless. And oh, this world seems good to me, In earnest of the world to be. Ah, this sweet world has store of rest To chide my wearying; W ith quiet cheer it greets its guest When there my cares I bring. The smooth caress of flowing stream, The deathless grass's couch, The four-wings' unobtrusive theme, — These have the healing touch. And oh, this world has rest for me, In promise of the rest to be. THE JOY SECRET Little ones, list to the music; The world is a-throb with joy: Bluebirds are singing it, Meadow-larks ringing it, For you, little girl, little boy. Songs of the Kingdom 73 Up in the woods on the hilltop, Down in the grass by the stream, Squirrels are chipping it, Rabbits are skipping it, Happiness all supreme. Over the hills and the valleys, Under the trees, in the spring. The sun is telling it, Waters are welling it: List, and you hear them sing. What is the joy they are singing? What do they have to tell? Why are they trolling it, Fluting it, rolling it Through all the world so well? This is the joy of the creatures, This is the joy of earth; The birds are greeting it, Flowers repeating it: "Now is the world's new birth!" "Dead in the tomb of winter, Long has the sad world lain, But out of the cold of it, Out of the mold of it, He cometh in beauty again." And through the joy and the gladness Speaketh a deeper joy; The birds and the creatures know it, The leaves and the flowers show it To you, little girl, little boy. 74 Songs of the Kingdom "Jesus is coming," they whisper, "Banishing death from earth! Thus are we teaching it, That you be preaching it: Speedeth the world's new birth!" A SONG OF THE YOUNG High hearts in the joy of strength, yodel me, yodel, a song! Bright beams of the tarrying sun, Far glimpse of heights to be won, Beckon me, beckon me, haste me on, in the joy of the young and the strong. Fresh breezes from heights that gleam far o'er the chasms of night, Breathe your promises, speak in the ear Whispers of courage, despite of fear: For the wings of the morning have girded my feet, and the vision quickened my sight. A voice from the banquet, a voice from the tomb; A strain of rejoicing, a note of doom, Cheering, warning: "Drink, for the draft is of nectar brew!" "Pause, for to drink means death to you!" — In life's young morning. "Hope is bound up in this red wine: Drink, and the joy of life is thine, Is thine forever." "Hope is engulfed in the stinging flood: Drink, and thou sheddest thine own red blood. Love? Life? Never!" Songs of the Kingdom 75 Lord, speak and quiet thou my froward heart, that leaps in thrall. The loose-flung reins of sense retake; Before my feet a highway break; And for my pride and joy of strength, be thou my all in all. God of the patriarchs, Father of infinite mercies, bend thine ear. Stoop to uphold me, weak in my might; Deign to enlighten me, dark in my light; Cover my riotous eyes with thy hand, but make my vision clear! Lift up the heart, but sink low the head: Let all the cohorts of passion fall dead, And their standards be broken. Summon the powers of the soul to hear: Banish the elves of the senses in fear; For the Spirit hath spoken. Lo, in the hush of the soul and the mind A lodging prepared shall the Spirit find, To rest its sweet story. And far from the room of devoted sense Shall drive the ill demons of passion hence, And fit it for glory. COMMUNITY They labor long and they labor well Who ply the hammer and forge the steel: The bare backs glisten, the sinews swell, And the sweat rains down from corded brows, As they strain from the hiss of the lashing vows That urge the agile and them that kneel: Yea, they labor, they labor well! 76 Songs of the Kingdom For they build them a temple in which to dwell, A temple for gods and for human pride: Their columns they rear and their deeds they tell; For they are the lords of earth and sky, Who have flung their gage to the Power on high; And they build them the tower that shall e'er abide, And here, yea, here will they dwell! "For the people," they say, "are many, and their strength shall be as one: We will build us a city, and get us a name beneath the sun!" But I saw with the eyes of a seer, as the future days passed by ; And I saw there was naught of the work they had reared to touch the sky. But far through the land and far o'er the sea, With plummet and square and measuring reed, Instinct with joy and with ardor free, There race, and toil, and struggle, and run, In frigid cold and in blistering sun, The sons of a pact that shall bide; and they speed To compass the land and sea. For they measure the souls that shall be free, The souls of a Kingdom that ne'er shall cease, The founders of kingdoms yet to be; And they build, in their wisdom, a tower higher, Unshaped by hand, unforged by fire, And they lay the foundation thereof in peace For the souls, the souls that are free. "For the people," they say, "are few; but God, their God, is great, And out of the foolish of earth he rears his marvelous state. " And I looked again as a seer, and I saw, in the years untold, That the dust of the feet of the poor had become a City of Gold. Songs of the Kingdom 77 DOXOLOGY (An Antiphonal Recitative) Voice: Chorus: Women: Chorus: Men: Chorus: Women: Chorus: Men: Chorus: First Quartet: Chorus: Second Quartet: The earth is full of the glory of God! Alleluia! Shine forth, ye stars that deck the night; Thou moon, thy fulgent rays employ; And praise, thou noonday orb of light, Give praise with all thy splendor bright; Ye hosts of heaven, beam forth your joy! Alleluia! The mountains and the hills break forth, They clap their hands, they also sing; The forests rock with rapturous mirth; With praise the solitudes do ring! Alleluia! The elements a Voice have heard, And stormy winds fulfil his word. Alleluia! Cry fire, and hail, and mist, and snow, From deeps above, from deeps below, Alleluia! The crooked lightning steers its fate Where mock the noninviolate, While thunders deep reverberate, Alleluia! And soft the balmy airs caress The timorous bird, the shrinking beast, And light the smiles of God impress The greatest of the earth, and least, That him they may with praise address: 78 Songs of the Kingdom Chorus: Alleluia! Women: The valleys and the plains rejoice In golden corn and grasses green, Vineyard and orchard lend their voice, And all the flocks that graze between; Honey and milk and fruitage choice, Harvest and store, rejoice, rejoice: Chorus: Alleluia! Men: Ye kings of earth, your homage pay; Ye princes and ye judges, bow; Young men and maidens, children gay, Ye grave of mien, ye old men gray, Come forth, and pay your highest vow; With joy before your Sovereign bow. Chorus: Alleluia! Alleluia! All: Praise him, ye seraphim above; Praise him, ye angels of his love; Ye winged spirits of his grace, That day by day behold his face, Sing, sing the rapture that ye know, And lend your joy to earth below; For earth is full of the glory of God: Alleluia! Alleluia! Alleluia! Amen! THE VALLEYS OF DIEGO Happy little valleys that the hills entwine, Brilliant with the poppy, fragrant with the pine, Blessing all your laborers with bread, and oil, and wine! Blooming, fruitful valleys where the Southmen dwell, Happy little valleys, I do love you well. Peace eternal rests upon your pine-crowned hills; Love is in your roses smiling o'er your rills; Joy in wild oat springing riot mid your daffodils; Songs of the Kingdom 79 And your water-maples, leaning o'er the brook, Spread the vail protective from the haughty look. Golden light asprinkle all the shadows o'er; Far-off angel-chaunting where the swallows soar; Maiden's voice alilt in vespers at the cottage door! Little valleys, may the spirit of my prayer In the beauty of your benediction share. Here I fain my pilgrim feet fore'er would stay, Mid golden fields of corn, and olive orchards gray, And low and broad green vineyards stretching to the hills away. But when my feet shall press the soil of earth made new, Happy little valleys, I will ask for you. CONSIDER Consider The lilies of the field that do not spin, Yet clothed are: And God, who robes them, is our closest kin, Nor stands afar. Consider The sparrows of the air that sell for naught: Yet Who doth see Each one that lifeless to the ground is brought, Guards thee and me. Consider That our true life is not the drink and food The Gentiles seek; But God, who loveth all, will give all good Unto the meek. 80 Songs of the Kingdom THE HILLS OF GOD Up to the hills I lift mine eyes, Where dwell the balsamed airs, Up where the living fountains rise, And the whispering winds are prayers. Up from the moil of the teeming plain And the maze of the city's street, Up where the thoughts of life are sane And the loves of life are sweet. Away from the marts by mammon trod, Aside from the mummers' play, I turn mine eyes to the hills of God, And trudge my lifting way. THE SONGS OF LIFE Soft and low, soft and low, like a summer zephyr's sigh. Crooning the song of the dawn of life, — Sweet of its bitter, ease of its strife; Soft and low, soft and low, a mother's lullaby. Sweet and strong, sweet and strong, over the tax and toil, Singing the joy of a young life's psalm, — Shield of its sorrow, strength of its calm; Sweet and strong, sweet and strong : the sword of youth, and the foil. Clear and calm, clear and calm, with measured beat and slow, Chanting the close of the vital lay, — Peace of its turmoil, bond of its prey; Clear and calm, clear and calm: the voice of the mourner low. I The Hills of God Up to the hills I lift mine eyes, Where dwell the balsamed airs, Up where the living fountains rise, And the whispering Winds are prayers. Up from the moil of the teeming plain And the maze of the city's street, Up where the thoughts of life are sane And the loves of life are sweet. ■ Away from the marts by mammon trod, Aside from the mummers' play, I turn mine eyes to the hills of God, And trudge my lifting Way. ilS SONGS OF THE EXILES 81 82 Songs of the Kingdom SONGS OF THE EXILES Why hang your harps on the willows, Children of woe? Far is the fame of your voices' Musical flow. Sing us the songs of Zion. How can we sing? Waste is our beautiful city, Captive our king. stranger land, stranger land, Dark is thy bloody scroll. Happy shall be the ruthless hand, Happy the sword at its command, That spills thy fearful soul! Kneel with the world in Dura, Ye stiff of neck! Have ye no fear of the furnace? Nothing to reck? Bow to the golden image! How can we bow? We have no God but Jehovah, Forever, and now! God of our fathers, thine all power! Thy name be glorified! Be thou our stay in this dread hour! A covert and a fortress-tower, In thee our souls do hide. Pray ye no more toward Zion, Hated of men : Songs of the Kingdom T3 Choose ye the monarch's favor, Or lions' den! Kneel to the lord of kingdoms! How shall we kneel? Faith in the Lord of heaven Will we reveal. Jerusalem! For thee we yearn, Whose streets the saints have trod, To thee with streaming eyes we turn, For thee our hearts within us burn, Thou city of our God! Where is your ancient glory, Seed of the blest? Tossed on the waves of affliction, Know ye no rest? Boast ye no hope of restoring? How should we boast? This is the hour of contrition For God's sad host. Lord, the great and dreadful One, Rebels and sinners we! In misery earned we lie undone. Lord, forgive! In heaven is none To look to but to thee! Lift up your heads, ye drooping, Sorrowful men! Know ye of none anointed To bring you again? Sing ye no song of Messiah? 84 Songs of the Kingdom Yea, we will sing: Blessed is he that cometh, Messiah, our King. Lift up your gates, Jerusalem! Your portals open fling! And he that wears the diadem Shall with his people enter them, And reign our glorious King! LAND OF MY LOVE Land of my love, to which, in dream-filled nights, My exiled heart went roving on its quest, Back to your valleys green, your wooded heights, I hasten, urged by duty's glad behest. Far, far from you, I yet have urged your cause, Have told your glories, plead your urgent need; Vexed, when the force of fortune made me pause; Glad, when my will of service made the deed. Now, burning plain and jagged mountain wall, Lying in purple threat across the sky, Oppose in vain my answer to the call That bids me home with speeding ardor fly. Soon, soon the shackling hours shall part That hold me prisoned from my sweet desire. Swift, swift there nears the harbor of my heart; Almost discerned my altar's kindling fire. So glows the joy of earthly habitat, So leaps the fervor of my duty's flame. How, if my ardent spirit fires at that, How shall it burn at one more precious name? Songs of the Kingdom 85 O Heaven, if my toil may be as true, My heart as little alien in exile, If I may spend myself as far for you, Then here my stay is but a little while. TO THE DESERT waste and desert land, Child of chaotic wrath, Heaving with time-scarred hand Thy curses on my path, Wild are thy beetling brows, Parched is thy naked breast, Guarding thine ancient vows Of hate that knows no rest. Whether, with puny strength, Man seeks thy niggard wells, Or crawls thy burning length Through everlasting hells, Pitiless, cruel, stark, Thou holdest forth his fate, Dost set on him thy mark, And point his ultimate. Thou too, thou scourge of God, Struck on a rebel world, Thou too shalt feel the rod, And to the dust be hurled! Fixed is thy kingdom's space, — One black millennium; Then shall they hide thy face, And God's fair Eden come. 86 Songs of the Kingdom A PRAYER FOR HOPE Sweet was the peace, my God, wherewith of old I walked with holy company to pray, With voice of joy to sing thy anthems bold, And satisfy my soul within thy way. These things I call to mind when now, alone, My tears are all my food both day and night, When in the dark I wake to toss and groan, And in the day my tears bedim my sight. My soul, why wilt thou thus cast down remain? Why be disquieted before thy God? Thou canst not seek his mighty help in vain: Thy hope in him shall bud the prophet's rod. God, my soul is crushed beneath men's scorn, Billows of wrath that thou hast bid to roll! let thy lovingkindness break the morn, And speak thou peace again unto my soul. To Thee, O God? I raise in faith my prayer. Thou art my Rock, my sure Foundation-stone; Nor from that Rock can men my footing tear; Thou wilt not leave thy trusting one alone. Soul, who say to thee, "Where is thy God?" Shall see thy sore disquietude no more! Thy hope in Him shall lift thee from the clod! Look up, my soul, thy King is at thy door! Lift me up in thy arms, O God; Lift me, lift me up! I have bared my back to thy scourging rod, I have drunk of thy bitter cup: Now as one whom his mother comforteth, Fold me close from the fear of death. Songs of the Kingdom 87 THE ARROW OF THE LORD'S DELIVERANCE The casement opens wide upon a fiery west, The still air holds a portent as of conflict nigh; Athwart the red God's shining messenger is shot, To paint his emblem on the anger of the sky. Wild tumult high upon the coming tempest's crest, And weak things cowering in devoted lot! The thunders roll; the heavens lower: It is the hour! It is the appointed hour! The arrow of the Lord's deliverance is sped! Thy prophet's hands on mine have sped thy shaft! Lord, in thy tribulation bitter tears I've shed: Now in thy vindication I have laughed! The slender reeds from off the pavement-stone I snatch. Not once or twice, but with exultant joy I smite with blow on blow, till they be naught but thatch; For thus, O Lord, shalt thou thy foes destroy. The scourging Hazaels have bared the vengeful arm; They heard thy voice, yet answered to their gods. Thou spakest peace to them; they blew the war's alarm, And scourged thy people under iron rods. Wild was their rage of hatred, deep their subtle scorn ; They held the head on high, they curled the lip: But on their night of revel cometh vengeance's morn; Before thy gate of praise their foot shall slip. Fast speeds thy herald shaft across the evening sky, Swift sweeps thy tempest o'er the doomed land; So speeds thy promise at thy suffering children's cry, So sweepeth down thy great avenging hand. 88 Songs of the Kingdom Who read the wrathful signs upon the western sky? Who saw the aspen quiver, voiceless, and foreknew? Who heard the trumpet's blast, and thought it not for mirui? Who dallied not in quiet ere the tempest blew? My heart! my heart! I can not hold my peace! I cry: Destruction on destruction is the lot of earth! Yet — waste and void, the heavens without light, — God speaketh forth salvation in his might. CONTRITION God, O God, There stings my soul The thought of crime! The venom sinks! At each convulsive throb I feel my life give way! 1 lose control! The sense of right, the love of good, the thought to pray, Weaken with fluttering pulse! Succor me, God! With the faint, tremulous motion of a palsied sufferer, 1 lift my hands to thee. Carried upon the litter of those faulty prayers, Rude in the make-up as the load it bears, I am laid down before thee. Jesus, my Saviour, when thy face I see, Oh, faith springs up: thou wilt forgive! Yea, thou hast bid me rise, And I may look unshamed into thine eyes. But I stoop, my Lord, to kiss thy garment's hem; For I live. To sin no more! Yea, by thy power To face unmoved the perilous hour, Songs of the Kingdom 89 The gage from which the human spirit shrinks. From abject woe, from black despair, +* I rise to soar above each barrier. From guttered wretchedness that every foot has trod, My soul in purity thy mighty pinions bear. Never, my soul, thy Rescuer forget. His is thy life, his thine unwearying guard, He is thy heaven, thine exceeding great reward. There is a victor's crown; but yet, I ask not for the diadem: I ask for thee, my God. THE TIME OF TROUBLE My God, it is the hour! The hour of darkness that should come on all the world. Helpless, the souls of men like autumn leaves are swirled Before some dreadful power That sweeps the nations to the yawning maw of hell, With rage unstemmed, with hate no power can quell, — The devils' whirlwind; and they ride it well. Shall I, shall we not pray? Around us, named thy people, reel the drunken mob, Until the head grows dizzy, and the pulses throb. Oh, who dare fling the day Among the careless legions of the days gone by: "Eat, drink, be merry; for full soon we die"? — The wastrel's cheer, and then his last despairing cry! Suffer it not, God! Shall scorn of duty and the love of pleasant sin Profane through us thy sanctuary, till within Mournfully writ is "Ichabod!" 90 Songs of the Kingdom Nay! In this closing hour of thine atonement day Make us to bow our heads, and in contrition pray, "For thine own glory, Lord, blot out our sins for aye. " Not for our sakes be this! Thy name, Lord, thy throne, thy glory, and thy grace Are tested by our lives! Let me not face My Master with a traitor kiss, Fawning and feigning with a selfish crown in view. Oh, if my flaw-filled life be never fused anew, How shall I shame my King before his legions true! O garden of the bitter cup! Within thy grief-bound walls we press our doubtful way, Willing in spirit, though the flesh forbid, to pray, To lift our Master up, Bearing with him what angels know not how to bear. Help us, help us, O Christ, to agonize in prayer Throughout this hour of darkness that with thee we share. I FEAR NOT If He go with me through the valley Where lurks the fearful shade, If He sustain me with His presence, I shall be unafraid. If He be with me in the dungeon, Uphold my drooping head, If He speak sweetly through the torture, I shall be comforted. If He do lead me in the battle, Direct the dubious strife, If He that conquereth be my Captain, I shall have bond of life. Songs of the Kingdom 91 I fear not fate, nor evil portent, If He my Sign shall be; The gall of sorrow, sting of terror, Shall yield but balm to me. FOR FAVOR IN JUDGMENT Hear thou my prayer, God of all the earth; For thou art true, though I be honorless. Vain were my trust in station or in birth: In mercy answer, and in righteousness. Not into judgment with me enter, Lord. Some chosen cleft let thy bright presence hide, Thy gentle hand before thy face my ward; For in thy sight shall none be justified. Smitten to earth, my life is like a tree That once its branches to the sunshine spread; Now fallen, upright feebly strives to be, Yet feels the creeping canker of the dead. My soul is whelmed, my heart is desolate, Mine eyes ashamed, my head in anguish bowed. In fear upon thy works I meditate Amid the senseless chatter of the crowd. Deep, deep, O God, my spirit sinks in hell! Hide not thy face! Stretch forth thy hand to me! The shame, the terror, all I know too well: Reveal that tender love that dwells in thee. What is the world? A bauble I have clutched. What is thy love? The breath that keepeth life. If, like a child, I have forgot, and touched, Thou, like a Father, know'st with me no strife. 92 Songs of the Kingdom Cause me to hear thy lovingkindness now; For in thy mercy and thy grace I trust: Thou my forgiver, my restorer thou; Thou art the gracious, as thou art the just. Teach me to do thy will, O thou my God; Deliver me from them that would oppress; And from the vale of sorrow I have trod Lead me into the land of righteousness. JEHOVAH JESUS My song shall bless thee, great I AM, Creator mighty, suffering Lamb: Thou ever wast, and ever art, And ever shalt be, time untold; And yet thou stoop'st with loving heart, With boundless love, us to enfold. And ever shall the wonder ring, While all thy power and love we sing, Jehovah, Jesus. In majesty and glory bright Thou reignest o'er the orbs of light; Afar thy reins of power are flung, Where mortal mind is lost in space; And all the sons of joy have sung At each new record of thy grace, As world on world, with new-born voice, Bade them anew in thee rejoice, Creator, Jesus. Yet when thy least creation rose To heights of follies and of woes, The lowest depths thou didst descend: Upon the sacrificial altar laid, Songs of the Kingdom 93 Didst give thy life his life to mend, And heal the breach his folly made. From death to life in thee restored, We hail thee now our loving Lord, Redeemer, Jesus. As thou hast been, so thou shalt be, The Master of eternity. From time unknown to time untold, Of might and grace the perfect sum; Thy people's sure defense of old, Thy people's triumph yet to come. Forever one, world without end, Thou our Creator and our Friend, Jehovah, Jesus. THAT OUR HEARTS MAY BE SOFTENED Open the windows of heaven to us, our Father; Let the sunlight of heavenly love upon us shine; Let the dews and the rains of thy beneficent favor Fall on the soil and the plants thou ownest as thine. The days of the years of our husbandry, few and evil, Are drawing nearer and nearer their solemn close: Filled are our hands with the fruits of their sorrowful harvest; Much was their labor, little they give for repose. Open the furnace of trial for us, O Father; Blow into life in the forge the slumbering coals; That the steel of our hearts may expand in the heat of the furnace, May soften for shaping the iron frame of our souls. We have forgotten the commonest art of the craftsman, Hammered our irons when the glow of love was lost, Dreaded the fire, the horror and heat of trial, Striven to force when patience was needed most. 94 Songs of the Kingdom Grant, O our Father, our hearts to be softened before thee: Fill with the water of life the sterile soul; Heat in the fires of affliction the obstinate iron; That to thee and to us may return the fruits of our toil. We who have slighted thee, mocked, and in service forgotten thee, Turn with the prayer of humility in our heart. Humble us, teach us, inspire in us gracious power, And for a service of tenderness set us apart. I SHOULD LIKE TO PASS OVER THE WAY On the other side of the mountain The grass is lush as a song, And the meadows are starred by an angel bard Who sings the whole day long. And the waters run with a gurgling laugh, And the sunshine falls all day. Oh, high though the trail that climbs to that vale, I should like to pass over the way. For our side of the mountain Has stones that trouble the feet, And the shadows fall like a funeral pall, And the springs are bitter-sweet. And high on the ridges that hold the pine The winds sough dour and fey; And they fright my dreams till ever it seems I must pass over the way. The other side of the mountain There are men that smile like God, And their deeds are done in the light of the sun, And they walk a freehold sod. Songs of the Kingdom 95 They bear the mien of a nobler race; They are loyal friends for aye: I do not know how I can go, But I want to pass over the way. For on this side of the mountain There are devious, darkling trails, Where the ravens croak over things we cloak, And the sickened spirit quails. There are few but look with a furtive eye, And none but the drunk are gay. Oh, out of the grime and the sodden crime I long to pass over the way. 'Tis the other side of the mountain That God made when he spake, For the joy of his kin that walk therein And rule it for his sake. Oh, I hear the call that the seraphs send, And the prayer that the young gods pray ; And by might of a heart that is strong to depart, I go to pass over the way. I SHALL BE GLAD I should be glad if the Lord should come, Oh ay, I should be glad! Do you think I would grieve me overmuch If the cities should crumble before his touch, If the hills should rock with a weight of woes, And the dear earth writhe in travail throes? Nay, nay; I tell you, Nay; I should be glad! 96 Songs of the Kingdom I would be glad if I had no part. Glad, glad! If my Lord by his coming should pierce my heart, And wipe me out from his book of life, Yet I would be glad. I would offer myself on the mount of the Lord, I would yield my limbs to the binding cord, I, would welcome the thrust of Moriah's knife, And still be glad. Do you know why? Because I have heard the bitter cry Of a world that can no longer live. And I could give My joy of eternity just to know That forevermore there could be no woe. 1 think it would be, If it had to be Worth life itself to have that thought, A glory to die with that thing wrought Into the mold of eternity. And I shall be glad; for my Lord will come. Oh ay, I know he will come! He has reckoned the years, he has finished their sum; And the day between is a slender day Till the sorrow of God be wiped away In the blazing glory of human joy. I shall be glad, I shall be glad In the sight of a rapture without alloy; I shall be glad When my Lord shall come! X107 ^ % ^ ^ w v i *: ***** % % f Ao, """""wERT 7« BOOKBINDING K Graotviile, Pa. j§ ■ Sept-Oct 1985 I o 9 , "\ _*cv nBHT