n ^ PS 2675 ^"^ .R6 C8 Copy 1 ■^ AND 1 1 In 1^. p jP' a m Mi |r|^tr.|.tt^ti|.i|. 3rf)E cup infjicF) ing Jfatfjer fjatj gAcn, s^all 2 not lirtnfe it 0. H. Reed, Printer, 401 m St., Wcu^hington, D. •© A cup my FathH,r held ; I tliought 1 heard my name : I shuddered ; siiould I be conipelle:! To take aud drink the same f I'm in my Father's hand, 'Tifi He that l)ids me drink ; And if it be at His command, Why sdouhl my spirit shrink.' I need for others' woes. A keener sense to feel ; To seek, instead of life's repoHe, My soul's eternal weal. There is no more within Tlian souls like mine require ; He knows the cure for death and sio, Aud brings the cup entire. I'm in Oi'tlisemane. The garden of my woe ; Oh ! let, Thy will if it may be, The cup un tasted go. 'Tis not that bitter cup The Fat^jer gave to Him ! And yet he took and drank it up, Though angry to the brim. He mingled it for me, But tasted ere He ^ve ; And though the eiid Me doth foresee. He still forbears'to^ave. • • • And I will drink it all, From Him 'tis even sweet ; Korfrom the wormwood and the gall. Will I relief entreat. Sickness came relentless on, In the darkness stalking- ; Ere we dreamed, life's light was gone : To our home there comes no dawn, We in darkness walking. Angels, angels, angels fair, give us back our darling. Hark, I hear the angels sa.y, 'Not so, wills your Father If you walk the narrow wny, You to her shall go, some day, Where the sinless gather." Angels, angels, angels fair, then we'll greet our darling. ia« %me-%mn. Oh ! ha'e ye. then, nae knee-bairn Wi' dumpy, dimplit ban's, Wi' tit accoutred i' sma' boots, An' titfa' like a man's ? An' fitfa' thund'rin' roun'. As though your ain knee bairn Wad weigh a bunder poun' ? Oh ! ha'e ye, then, nao knee-bairn, Soon as ye lift the latch. Soon as ye touch the stair or floor, Your comin' step to catch ? To catch, and to ca' out. Your toddlin' wee knee-bairn, Wi' mony a peal an' shout. Oh ! ha'e ye, theni nae knee-bairn, To climb up ft^r ;^ kiss. To pu' your beard* and tweak your nose ? Fu' half o' life's in 'this ! Fu' half o' life an' more, To ha'e your ain knee-bairn A-stumpin' roun' the floor. Oh ! ha'e ye, then, nae knee- bairn. To liaud ye by the ear. An' whisper wi' his poaty lips What uaiie but you maun bear? But you ! some secret wise The whilk your aiii knee-bairn Imparts wi' starin' eyes Oil ! ha'e \ e, then nae kne^-bairii, To snuggle his roun' head Down in your lap. curl up hislim's, An' nestle atf to bed 1 An' nestle alt' as though Your ain worn-out knee-bairn Hati nae where else to go ? Oh ! ha'e ye, then, nae knee-bairn ? Weel, ye can never ken What 'tis to ha'e him ta'en awa', Nor hear him roun' agen : Nor hear him roun', but gaun Frae sight and sense, your knee-bairn Ye had sae doted on ! What 'tis to ha'e a knee-bairn. That's dim' out o' your sight, Far up alang the angel-steps, Aboon the starn o" night, Aboon you reach or ca' ! What 'tis to ha'e a knee-bairn Ye cai na ken at a' ! %iUv ^mw. From the Gf^rman. After snow, after snow Do the sweet-breathed vii lets blow ; Then grim winttr is departing. And the em'rald clover starting ; While the lark nioiiuts high, you know, After siiow. As God will, as God will! Be it mine bnt to hold still : Should the clouds above me thicken, Rain will but the grasses quicken. And God's treasure houses fill : As God will. Hash, my heart ! hush, my heart ! Ease must interchange with smart ; Though thick troubles now enfold thee, Let sweet trust in God uphold thee ; Look above : 'tis faith's high art : Hush, my heart I ^«ntlg, iWttS, ««ntUt m\U Us. Geatlj', Jesus, gently guide us, Hold us, hold us. with thy tender hand ; Linger, linger, still beside us, Gently guide us to the better laud ! Pathways dark we often meet. Do Thou kiep our doubting feet. Till we find a refuge (ui thy breast, And from all oair earthly labors rest. When we, trembling, tread the valley, And death's .shadows heavy round us lie When disrobed of flesh we sally, When we sally for^h to worlds on high ; Thou, who once, wert cold in death, O, receive our latest breath. Gently, Jesus, let us gently glide To our rest upon death's conquered tide. M\tt f ictog of the (Bxmt. How can 1 let his little form Escape from my caresses wa-rm ? How can I call my darling dead. And dress him for his louelj^ bed ? Can I give up this noble brow. On which was sealed the Christian vow ? This head so often hushed to rest Upon the heavings of mj^ breast ? These loving arms around me tiung, While man.y a nurs'ry rhyme was sung ? These eyesthat melted into mine ; These lips all wet with love's own vine I know his infant spirit's gone To put the Saviour's glory on ; But 'tis the last drop in the cup To give his little bodj^ up. ill? mm m& tfte i^njels. Once I saw a little child. Near its mother playing : Pure it was, and undetiled ; Laughter in its eye so mild ; Little wise things saying. Angels, angels angels fair, brought t o n; our darling. Then 1 looked ; all changed the scene : Child lay sweetly sleeping : Red lips siiut, in peace serene : Gazing did the mother lean, Her fond vigilslkeeping. Angels, angels, angels fair, covet not our darling. 1 know, that wheu I stand, Serene on Heaven's pure height, Twill seem that all was wisely planned. The cup was mingled right. "Lord God, what iciU thou nive me, seeing I go Childless." Our little Agnes died The other day : We have no other child heside, To take the sting away : We have no child, to bless Us wi th her eyes : No child to comfort, or caress, To gladden, or surprise. We have no child to keep Her clinging arms Around us. while we sleep. Half whisp'riiig her alarms ; No child for which to pra^^ ; No child to guide Upward, along the heavenly way, Inquiring at our side. God took our all ! He knew How much it was : 'Twas He Himself, who gave it too ; Of gift, of loss, the Cause : He took our all ! No more to take Tlian 'twas to give ! He knew how much our hearts would ache Should noc our Agnes live. Is then, our Agnes, thine, O Lamb of God ? Again we bring her to Tliv shrine- Is this Thy love, not rod ? To give, than to receive, ^ ^ Is it more blest ? The sacred m.\ st'ry we believe : And iiere our spirits rest. "" LIBRftRY OF CONGRESS ■H. SI To earth's No mortal No fever-t Notenipes „„„■■„,.... ■■- - SI 016 165 679 3 Sleep here in peace ! No more ihou'lt know the sun's glad morning-shin- iag, No more the glory of the day's declining ; No mure the night that stoops serene above thee. Watching thy rest, like tender eyes that love thee. Sleep here in peace ! Sleep here in peace ! Unknown to thee, the spring will come with blessing. The turf above thee in sofr verdure dressing ; Unknown will come the autumn, rich and mellow, Sprinkling thy couch with foilage, golden-yellow. Sleep here in peace ! Sleep here in peace ! This is earth's rest for all her broken-hearted. Where she has garnered up our dear departed : The prattling babe, the wife, the old man hoary, The tired of human life, the crowned with glory. Sleep here in peace ! Sleep here in peace ! This is the gate for thee to walks immortal. This is the entrance to the pearly portal ; The pathway trod by saints and sages olden. Whose feet now walk Jerusalem the Golden. Sleep here in peace ! Sleep here in peace ! For not on earth shall be man's rest eternal : Faith's morn shall come ! Each setting eun diurnal. Each human sleeping, and each human waking, Hastens the day that shall on earth be breaking. Sleep here in peace ! Sleep here in peace ! Faith's morn shall come ! when He, our Lord and Maker, Shall claim His own that slumber in God's Acre ; When He, who once for man death's anguish tasted. Shall show death's gloomy realm despoiled and wasted ! Sleep here in peace 1 f