fy/ dOli _^ **\ \ i/ ' !i \v^* ii "^v'fA ' ii'^v' !r*.vV "«'' Vv" ii '^v^' !i '*^!^ *X| ^&:jX^l!^:| # j€^ f" i£t^^^^^^^^- ^«S»CSi«^« ^C^3« ^«^ lili^-^'f^; •\\-^-\\\-^\-\s-^ii>ftmmmvy LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. (||ap ©np^rij]^ ]|o.' Shelf ..-.-.11^ '^ -Dip UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. MY AIN COUNTREE m AISD OTHER VERSES. By MARY LEE DEMAREST 5 NEW YORK: ANSON D. F. RANDOLPH & COMPANY, 900 BROADWAY, COR. 20th STREET. z ^s":^ <^ y COPYRIGHT, r8S2 BY ANSON D. F. RANDOLPH & COMPANY. EDWARD O Printe* a nd - 20 North W JENKINS, Sfereoty/>er^ illiam St, AUTHOR'S NOTE. Some of the verses here gathered together, have from time to time been published in various magazines and newspapers. By the courtesy of Messrs. Harper & Brothers, and also the editors of the Illustrated Christian Weekly, of the Youth's Coin' panion, and of other periodicals, articles which have appeared in their columns are here reprinted. The Scotch verses, " My Ain Countree," were written in 1861, and were first published in the N'ew York Observer, over my signature, " L.," in nearly their present form. Ill CONTENTS. PAGE .My Ain Countree i A Good and a Glad New Year 3 Gone 4 Willie's Prayer 7 Faith and Patience , ... 10 When Shadows Deepen 13 Veteran Tom and the Surgeon 14 Even in Sardis 21 The Sabbath Sunset Hour of Prayer 23 A Prisoner of Hope 27 "Asleep on a Pillow" 29 *' Behold My Hands and My Feet, that it is I Myself " . . 31 Jesus, Master 33 The Gardener 34 Here and After Here 36 The Best Robe 37 Song of Mercy 3S Comforted ..... 40 A Recruiting Song 43 Easter Joy 46 My Plea /j7 Into the Holiest 49 The Iron Gate 51 *'Open Thou My Lips" 54 *' Rex eris, si Recte Facias " . . 56 V CONTENTS. PAGE "Until the Day Break" 57 One Whom Thou Lovest, Lord 60 Good-Bye 62 The Burnt Path 62 Thankfulness 65 Our Saviour's Love 68 The Blossom-Storm Lights Ashore . Christ and My Heart 70 73 75 Flowers for the Baby's Feet 78 "The Lord our Helper" 79 " Post Tenebras Lux " 80 "Surely I Come Quickly" 85 "Discouraged Because of the Way" 85 Up to the Hills 87 My Mither . • 89 My Guest The Patience of the Lord Baby Annie 91 93 95 Missing 98 My Heart's Ae Dearie 103 Sea Spray 105 Over the Border . , 108 " Massachusetts " no The Pathway o' the Sea 112 A Woman's Words "5 Melisendra T18 A Voice from Belle Isle — 1863 . . 121 In a Dream ... * 124 In Memoriam — F. B. C 128 A Memory 130 How Benny Got His Drum 133 Allen Graeme 138 Our Old Piano 142 " The Wa-gang o' Her the Heart Gangs wi' " . . . . 144 vi MY AIN COUNTREE, AND OTHER VERSES. MY AIN COUNTREE. ^^But ftow they desire a better country^ that is, an heavenly?'' — Heb. xi, i6, I'm far frae my hame, an' I'm weary after-whiles, For the langed-for hame-bringing an' my Father's welcome smiles ; * I'll ne'er be fu' content, until mine een do see The shining gates o' heaven an' my ain countree. The earth is flecked wi' flowers, mony-tinted, fresh an' gay, The birdies warble blithely, for my Father made them sae ; But these sights an' these soun's will as naething be to me, When I hear the angels singing in my ain countree. I've His gude word o' promise that, some gladsome day, the King To His ain royal palace His banished hame will bring. Wi' een an' wi' hearts runnin' owre, we shall see The King in His beauty in our ain countree. MV AIN CO UN-TREE. My sins hae been mony, an' my sorrows hae been sair, But there they'll never vex me, nor be remembered mair ; His bluid has made me white, His hand shall dry mine e'e, When He brings me hame at last, to my ain countree. Like a bairn to its mither, a wee birdie to its nest, I wad fain be ganging noo, unto my Saviour's breast ; For He gathers in His bosom witless, worthless lambs like me^ And carries them Himsel' to His ain countree. Nae mickle noo I ken o' the joy sae fu' an' gran'. An' the pleasures evermair that abide at His richt han' ; It will surely be eneuch forevermair to be, I' the Hame He has prepared, i' my ain countree. He's faithfu' that hath promised, He'll surely come again, He'll keep His tryst wi' me, at what hour I dinna ken ; But He bids me still to wait, an' ready aye to be, To gang at ony moment to my ain countree. So I'm watching aye, an' singing o' my hame as I wait For the soun'ing o' His footfa' this side the shining gate. God gi'e His grace to ilk ane wha listens noo to me. That we a' may gang in gladness to our ain countree. A GOOD AND A GLAD NEW YEAR. A GOOD AND A GLAD NEW YEAR. Faintly the Old Year's pulses beat, While the moon shone full and bright On the silent waste of the Southern Sea, And the ship's long wake of white. Away from the North, and away from the Past, With a backward glance I sailed. Remembering all I had longed to be, And how I had sadly failed. I thought of the life unhelpful, poor, That might have been brave and fair. Of the deeds undone and the words unsaid, Of the failure everywhere. Ah, never the lost chance comes again For the deed to be noblv done, For the finished fight once more to be fought, For the race again to be run. Good-bye to all that I might have been In the year that is dying fast ! 3 GONE. The Future yet may nobler be For the failures of the Past : While the Lord above has grace and strength To dispel every want and fear, And hope springs up, with a glad new life, For a good and a glad New Year. GONE. We knelt by the dying bed Of one who was soon to go Beyond the touch of our earthly life, With its changing joy and woe ; Beyond the clasp of our human love, To the world we do not know. The silvery tick of the clock Seemed far away and strange, For one little moment brought to us A sense of loss and change, — GOJVE. Of something forever gone, beyond Our human reach and range. Oh, the awful mystery Of the change that we call Death, When the finger of God is laid on the lips, And hushes the struggling breath. Dear Lord, how dark it must be for those Without Jesus of Nazareth ! He knows it, knows it all. For He hung upon the tree, Those long, long hours of death-in-life. In His mortal agony. His heart can pity our hearts that shrink From the strange Eternity. He passed from the scoffs and the jeers To His Father's throne on high, And opened the gates of Paradise, When He uttered His long, last cry. Dear, pitiful Lord, who died for us, Be close to us when we die, 5 ^/]. GONE, Our hearts are hushed with the thought Of the glory to be revealed, When the lips of the dumb shall sing for joy, And the eyes of the blind be unsealed ; When we know the Lord as our glorious Sun, As well as our mighty Shield ! Oh, Love that is perfect now, Oh, Life that is sweet and grand ! Upon the threshold if one might turn, And clasp our trembling hand, Could she tell us of Heavenly things in words That our hearts could understand ? Ah, no ! from the sweet, still lips. No answer comes back to my own. She has gone — she has gone to our Father's House, Where she knows as she is known. Her heart in heaven and ours on earth. May meet at the Great White Throne. WILLIE'S PR A YER. WILLIE'S PRAYER. In the pleasant nursery, bright With the wood-fire's dancing light, Full of fun, with many a shout White-robed children run about. Now, the bed-time frolic past, Mother's voice calls them at last : " Come, my darlings, come and pray For God's blessing, night and day." Then they kneel, with fair heads bowed, And together pray aloud : " Our Father," and again, " Now I lay me." Silence then, Like a halo, seems to fall On the bended heads of all. For Mamma said God would hear What they whispered in His ear. So their childish wishes sweet Silently their hearts repeat. 7 WILLIE'S PR A YER. Now are raised two curly heads : — " Come and kiss us in our beds " — " Tuck us up, please, Mother dear," Pleads one darling in her ear ; For her good-night kiss, caressing, Is to them like Heaven's blessing. Only Willie lingers where They all knelt by Mother's chair ; Puzzled, troubled with the doubt Whether he should ask right out For one thing he wanted so. Mother said that God would know What was bad, and that He would Only give us what was good. So — " Please, God, to give to me All the good things that would be Good things that are good for me.'* Oh, the trust and wisdom rare Of the boy's true-hearted prayer ! I, with all my added years. Sad to-night with many fears, 8 WILLIE ' S PR A YER. Would be happier if I should Change my prayer for doubtful good, Leaving to my Father's ken What to give, and how and when ; Glad to have Him always know What things I have wanted so, And to let His love decide What good things must be denied To me now. For peace and strife, Loss, possession, death, and life, Present things, and things to come, — Safely kept for me at home, — All are mine, and God will make " Good for me " for Jesus' sake. So to-night my heart has caught Blessing from the child's sweet thought, And to rest, untroubled, deep, Now I lay me down to sleep. FAITH AND FA TIENCE. FAITH AND PATIENCE. Ye have need of patience^ that, after ye have done the will of God, ye might receive the promise.^'' — Heb. x. 36. Lord, give to me that fearless trust Which clasps Thy promise sweet and sure, And sees by faith the germ mature, Though now it lieth low in dust. Deep down beneath the lighter soil I hide the seed with many a prayer, Knowing Thy Spirit must be there, Or else in vain is all my toil. Tho' buried seed and harvest sheaf Are past and future unto me. They both are present, Lord, to Thee : — Lord Jesus, help mine unbelief ! A thousand of our toilsome years To Thee are but one day of light ; And, floating in Thy Sun, how bright Our little mote of life appears ! 10 FAITH AXD PA TIE NCR. This life so brief, and yet so grand, So full of mystery, read aright, So fraught with meaning, full of might — I still am slow to understand. Lord ! open Thou my blinded eyes To see the angels camping round ; The seed that burst from garden-ground Has made earth more than Paradise. The grain of wheat must fall and die," To bear the Eternal Harvest sheaf; Oh ! vivify my slow belief, Thou who didst three days buried lie. Help me to take Thee at Thy word ; Forever true I know Thou art : When I have done in faith my part, Thine will not be too longj deferred. And yet Thou knowest I am prone, Saviour, to doubt if love of Thine II z FAITH AND PA TIENCE. Would reach to depths where love of mine Would gladly go, though all alone. Oh, shameful doubt of Love most grand. And deep and high beyond our thought ! Let me no longer count as naught The Love I can not understand. Thou knowest, Saviour, how to show^ Lost souls Thy purposes of love : Thy ways and thoughts are far above Our puny thoughts that creep below. Thou watchest, out of human sight. The precious, quickened seed take root ; We only see the springing shoot, And dream it sprung up in a night. And all is Thine : — the seed we sow. The hand that sows it, and the faith That clings to what Thy mercy saith, And trusts where now it may not know. 12 J WHEN SHADOWS DEEPEN, So here I cast upon Thy heart The souls I long to see Thee save : Thy mercy, Lord, for them I crave, Saviour of sinners. Thou who art ! WHEN SHADOWS DEEPEN. When shadows deepen and the path grows dark, And skies are sombre at the close of day, Nor lingers now the faintest evening red, " The sun has set," we say. As if the sun had ever ceased to shine, As though our pathway ever had grown dim, Until — ah, not, he turned away from us — Until — we turned from him. At night, when mists and vapors of the earth Hang dense and heavy as a prison's bars, Between us and their far-off myriad eyes, We say, " There are no stars ! " 13 ♦ L ^4— VETERAN TOM AND THE SURGEON. And yet, high hosts of God, their shining watch. Like Israel's faithful Shepherd, still they keep, Through blaze of noon, or blackness of the night, While we awake or sleep. Our words are echoes of our little thoughts. God's thoughts are not as ours. Far, far above, Beyond us, holding fast the Universe, Beats His great Heart of Love. Ah, love beyond our measure as the sea. And higher than the stars, more vast than space ; What meaneth, " God so loved," we learn alone. In Christ our Saviour's face. VETERAN TOM AND THE SURGEON. A FIRST-RATE surgeon, sir, you are, To bathe and set and bind Our broken bones, but you can't set At rest a troubled mind. 14 VETERAN TOM AND THE SURGEON. I've heard you talking, many a time ; You are so young and free You'll not be vexed, sir, with the words Of an old man like me ? Now, what's the use of blaming God, And pulling things apart ? Does all this fretting save from sin Or heal a broken heart ? Men can't find out by guessing, sir, Just how they got their breath. Nor where the atom came from first, Nor what comes after death. And when some dreadful grief or loss Comes marching on with doubt. They find from everything in life The bottom drops right out. I've heard how one — a great man, sir, In England — who denied The God that made him, broke his heart When his own idol died. I was so sorry for that man ! If he had only known 15 fir VETERAN TOM AND THE SURGEON. God loves us far too well to give Our hungry hearts a stone ! A pity 'tis, sir, as you say, Some folks whom God has fed Don't seem to know the difference Between a stone and bread. You see, we are so obstinate, So foolish, sir, and blind. Outside our prison-doors we say, " The cell's more to our mind." And many a time we grow so proud That we are sure to fall ; But mind you, sir, the fault is ours, And not the Lord's at all. And as for doubts and questionings That vex so many still, He says His doctrine shall be known To them who do His will. You want to hear my story, sir? It's kind of you, I'm sure ; i6 VETERAN TOM AND THE SURGEON, I'm only Tom the veteran, A cripple, old and poor. I weht into the army, sir, When I was but a lad ; For nigh on thirty years, it was The only home I had. And then I quit, sir, for a while. What made me change my life ? Why, we had laid some money up, Myself and my good wife, (She didn't like the service much, She thought it made me wild) ; And so we bought a little home For us and for the child. But soon our boy fell sick and died ; It was a fearful blow. My wife had all the courage then ; I got so awful low. And fretted so against the Lord, She said to me one day : " Tom, don't you think it's time that you Should give the Lord His way .'* 17 VETERAN TOM AND THE SURGEON. He'll do His will, you may be sure, No matter how we fight ; And though my arms are empty, Tom, I know His ways are right." I quit my grumbling, then and there. We had a blessed life Together for one twelvemonth ; then He took away my wife. Oh, sir, I did not fight Him then ; It seemed to me her prayer, Her dying prayer to God, it was That kept me from despair ; For just when all the world grew dark The Lord became my light ; I reached my empty arms to Him — I knew His ways were right. Then other troubles came through men- They swore I was a thief. They stole my good name from me, sir, And gave me years of grief. i8 VETERAN TOM AND THE SURGEON, They called me canting hypocrite, Mocked at my God and jeered, Until one day the thief confessed. And my good name was cleared. But, oh, in every trouble, sir. And in my sore disgrace, I never found the gracious Lord Had turned away His face. Not for my goodness — no, sir, no ! But for His faithfulness ; The Lord's a friend that always sticks The closer in distress. Yes, that was years and years ago. And now I'm old and lame ; They sent me to this hospital The year before you came. I'd rather not be pensioned off. Though I am only fit To help the sicker fellows, sir. And cheer them up a bit. I'm like that old cup on the shelf, 19 VETERAN TOM AND THE SURGEON. That's only good to hold Fresh water for some thirsty chap (It's clean, sir, though it's old). The devil used to whisper, sir, " It is a trifle hard That when a fellow wants to march, He's ordered to stand guard." But now I wait my Captain's word ; 'Twill sound through all the host. I want Him, when He comes, to find Me faithful at my post. You ask me, Does His service pay ? Aye, sir, indeed it do ; He died for me. He saved my soul — He'll do the same for you. With all your learning and your strength, Your free and hearty ways. Oh, 'list for Jesus, and you'll find How well His service pays ! 20 E VEN IN SARDIS. EVEN IN SARDIS. ^''Thou hast a feiu names even in Sardis^ which have not defiled their garinentSy^ and they shall "walk with tne in white : /or they are worthy. ^^ — Rev. iii. 4. White robes among earth's filthy rags, And trustful hearts and tireless feet That walk in heavenly whiteness, while • They yet do tread Life's dusty street. Souls climbing still the thorny path With heavenward eyes and faces bright, Uncaring for the rugged way, So they but keep their garments white. White robes in Sardis ! noble names Graven on God's fair roll of Life, — Of soldiers steadfast at their posts, Who fight unflinching through the strife \ Oh, faithful few ! who cling till Dea'.h To Him who holds the palm and crown. Seeking no worldly fame, nor wreath ; Heedless of earthly smile or frown. 21 ^4— ±± EVEN IN SARD IS. O Saviour ! Thou who walkest still Amidst the candlesticks of gold ; Whose own right hand the seven stars Both now and evermore doth hold — We have not overcome the world. Thy words ring out 'midst cares and mirth; "When comes again the Son of man, Shall He find faith upon the earth ? " Grant us, dear Christ ! white Sardis hearts — To cleave to Thee when all forsake ; To love Thee for Thyself, and all The world as only for Thy sake. And facing thus the deadly foe, With banner of Thy cross unfurled, We may fulfill Thy last behest, " Be in," yet "be not of the world." So, battling ever in Thy strength 'Gainst foes without and foes within, We may be conquerors at length And many a trophy for Thee win. 22 "^SF THE SABBATH SUNSET HOUR OF PR A YER. Oh, keep us, when we struggle hard, From trusting to our courage tried ; Help us to make our only boast In our dear Leader glorified ; Teach us to labor, wrestle, pray, To walk in love, in God's own light, And, living 'mong the Sardis dead. Be clad each day in spotless white. " Even in Sardis," walking thus ; Then whensoe'er Thy summons be. We may uplift our joyful hands. And go to walk in white with Thee. THE SABBATH SUNSET HOUR OF PRAYER. All through one day in the seven. While the work-days' banners are furled, A beautiful mystic girdle Unseen is clasping our world. 23 T/f£ SABBA TH SUNSET HOUR OF PR A YER. In many a secret chamber, In many a heart unknown, In wilderness, village, and city, The links of that wonderful zone Are silently, steadily forming, As, borne on the evening air. To our Father in heaven uprises The voice of the Hour of Prayer — Of prayer for the dying heathen ; Oh, is it not sweet to think Each moment throughout the Lord's day Is welding a golden link ; And each beautiful, fading sunset, Bearing heavenward many a plea, Sheds glory forever westward — A sunrise far over the sea ? From lands whose happiest daughters Hear the call of the Master, *' Go "; 24 K^ THE SABBA TH SUNSET HOUR OF PRA YER. From lands where our fettered sisters Are dying so fast in their woe, While the hearts that tell them of Jesus In sympathy soon would break, Except for the Comforter's presence, And the thought of His dear sake ; From Europe, America, Asia, And the grand dark Afric land. In the Sabbath sunset are gathered Some links of that endless band. For the sun in his circling journey, Ere he bids each land good-night, As a mighty muezzin calleth, — " Pray, pray for the Gospel light." In accord are our Babel voices When we bow at the mercy-seat, And there are no sundering oceans When we gather at Jesus' feet. 25 ^A.„ 1 1 THE SABBA TH SUNSET HOUR OF PR A YER. From the lips of women and children, Made dumb by the scourge and the thong, At the touch of the Hand that was wounded, Uprises a jubilant song. For land after land rejoices That the Word of our God is free, That the earth shall be filled with His knowledge As the waters that cover the sea. With the faith that removeth mountains. Let us pray, while we hopefully sing, And build in the wastes of the desert A highway for our King. Oh, Hour of Prayer for the heathen — God make it more mighty and sweet ! Let it bind His children together. While they watch for the beautiful feet Of Him who has asked for the heathen. Who loves them, and taught us to pray 26 J A PRISONER OF HOPE. That the King would come in His kingdom, And a nation be born in a day. A PRISONER OF HOPE. " To bring out the j^risoners from the ^risonJ'^—ls. xlii. 7. A PRISONER of hope, And even here held in the Lord's embrace, That, first of heaven's glories, thou may'st see His face, When Death thy cell shall ope ! The chains of sense and sin, That fetter now thy spirit, wear away, One link, and now another, day by day. As Jesus " shuts thee in." The exile homeward bound Still hasteth, though he groans 'neath mortal load. The racer sometimes faints along the road, Before his brows are crowned. Yet still the Master's breast Is near when earthly rests are all removed ; 27 ^A f--^<- A PRISONER OF HOPE. His heart beats closest to His own beldved, When He alone is guest. In this hushed house of grief, Where linger still the echoes of their feet Who bore away our dearest — golden wheat And flowers in one sheaf — We patiently would wait Until we hear the Master's longed-for call ; Until our spirits catch His far foot-fall This side the city's gate. Then, gladly and in haste, As Mary erst, would we arise and fling The damps and darkness off, which ever clin^ Where Death's sad lines are traced. Thou earnest, Lord, to free Poor prisoners, like me, from earthly chains. My ransom-price is paid. No debt remains To witness against me. 28 ''ASLEEP ON A PILLOWr So when Thy pierced feet Draw near my prison-house, straightway the door Flies open, and with Thee forevermore I tread the golden street. "ASLEEP ON A PILLOW." In a little boat on a southern sea, One fair sunshiny day, Upon a pillow I laid my head, While my thoughts sailed far away ; — To Him who slept, while raged the storm On the changeful Galilee ; To the sinking boat, and the failing faith, Alike in jeopardy. Oh, cowardice of faithless hearts That could not trust the Christ ! His words — " Unto the other shore" — Might surely have sufficed. 29 ^^ \. 7\ \l ^A ''ASLEEP ON A PILLOWr And yet, Lord Jesus, though my heart Springs up to hush their cry, — Thou knowest, if I had been there, The first one had been I To rouse Thee from Thy restful sleep ; Forgetting Thou hadst said, A little while before. Thou hadst Not where to lay Thy head ! The very foxes had their holes. The little birds their nest ; — Oh, pitiful ! dear Lord, that Thou Shouldst have no earthly rest ! What know we of the nobler rest The Father gave His Son, — Their joy together in the work Which Christ had nearly done ? Dear, perfect, human-hearted Lord, Most patient still to teach, 30 'BEHOLD MY HANDS AND MY FEETr By miracle and parable, Thy lesson unto each ; Be with us still, in calm and storm ; Show to our unbelief The poor, wild souls across the sea, That wait for Thy relief. So give us courage, Lord, and faith, Through fellowship with Thee, And make us better by the thoughts Thou sendest us at sea. "BEHOLD MY HANDS AND MY FEET, THAT IT IS I MYSELF." LUKE Xxiv. 39. Wounded hands and pierced side, Of my Saviour crucified, Pierced feet and thorn-pressed brow, Oh, that I could see them now ! See the stripes which healed my soul. See the wounds which made me whole ! 31 ""i IF • ^'BEHOLD MY HANDS AND MY FEE7V* Jesus, precious Saviour, shine On this longing soul of mine ! Stay my heart upon Thy word While Thou art my absent Lord. Make me at each morning's light Fairer, Jesus, in Thy sight. With each nightfall give me rest, On my blessed Saviour's breast. Daily living on Thy grace Till I see Thy glorious face, Draw me closer to Thy side, Oh, my Saviour crucified ! Satan says. How can you dare Make your rest and refuge there, When you know your heart within Is a dreadful pit of sin ? Yet, my precious Riven Rock, Close round Thee my arms I lock. Just because I'd else despair, ' I have rushed for refuge there. Jesus' love has opened wide For my soul His pierced side. 32 7i JE S US, MA S TER ! JESUS, MASTER! *' Her sz'ns, which are many^ are /orgiz>en : /or she loved much : but to ivhottt little is forgiven^ the same loveth little.'''' — Luke vii. 47. Master, I come to Thee, Unworthy though I am, to bathe Thy feet with tears ! My heart of sorrow see, And speak Thy word of peace to drive away my fears. Thou knowest all my heart ; Its human cravings, which Thy love has still denied, The bitter tears that start Sometimes impatiently o'er hopes unsatisfied. And, even worse than thie, The dull ingratitude and heartless unbelief, That even 'neath Thy kiss Of pardoning peace, would turn and put Thy soul to grief. For sin is very strong ; And I am still so wavering and so prone to sin ! Lord ! help me hate the wrong. And make it bitter to me by Thy discipline. 33 ^4— Z|f:±t THE GARDENER. Though angels high in Heaven Should say, " This sinner is not fit our Lord to touch "; *' To whom is much forgiven," Thou said'st of Magdalen, ^' that sinner loveth much." Dear Lord ! I thank Thy grace That made me not an angel, but a struggling saint ; That, with the weary race, Gave also strength and courage to the weak and faint ; I thank Thee, that I may Not only once, like her of old at Simon's feast, But on each earthly day. Bring every sorrow, from the greatest to the least ; Yet help me, Lord, to bring Not only tears and kisses to Thy pierced feet ; But while I weep and sing, Grant me to offer, too, the costly ointment sweet. THE GARDENER. Is this a flower of mine, its tendrils flinging Low in the dust of earth ? I scarce can see, 34 y, THE GARDENER. In all this wayward, passionate earth-clinging, One single impulse, Sun of Life, toward Thee. Ah, strange this little flower my hand hath planted, Shielded from wintry blasts and scorching heat, Will never climb the lattice heavenward slanted. And loves the darkness more than sunshine sweet. I will unclasp these clinging tendrils binding This poor plant earthward, though the needed knife, Sundering swiftly what defies unwinding. Should make it fain to yield its bleeding life. My hand that hurts will heal. Not maimed and broken, But whole and healthful shall thy new life be ; My sharpest pruning is my surest token That strength and sweetness yet shall spring in thee. No bloom nor beauty, leaves and tendrils only Were in the old life with its earthly scope ; Give thy new sweetness to the sad and lonely. And sunward turn thy face in heavenlier hope. 35 ^A z. -*C^s- '^\K HERE AND AFTER HERE. HERE AND AFTER HERE. *' They shall call His natne Em-manuel^ -which, being interpreted^ is^ God with us.''"' — Matt. i. 23, *^As Thou, Father, art in me, and I in Thee, that they also Tnay be one in us.''' — John xvii. 21. Here, Thou art with us, blest Emmanuel ! Our sympathizing, ever-present Friend. Both here and after here, it still is well With Thy Beloved, e'en tho' heartstrings rend. Yet here our hearts are often stricken mute : We think, in our dumb anguish, they must break, God knows the hidden sweetness of His lute, Tightens the chords ; then bids the music wake. Ah, there, in that Hereafter long and blest, Dwells He with us ! Nay, more ! we dwell in Him. The shattered tabernacle hath its rest Beneath the temple's shadowing cherubim. So, friends who love me, when the last good-bye Dies on my lips, be glad for me, and swell Sweet holy psalms to waft my soul on high To rest in my true home, Emmanuel ! 36 THE BEST ROBE. THE BEST ROBE. In the heavenly robing-room Is a garment beyond price, Woven in the ruddy loom Of immanuel's sacrifice. Hark ! A wayward child begins To confess, all sin-defiled : ** Father, I, all guilt and sins, Am not fit to be Thy child. ** Yet, oh, grant to me a place As a servant" — Ere the thought Finds his lips, the Father's grace Sets his fears and shame at naught. ** Bring the robe," the great King cries ; Happy angels bring the best, While the sorrowing beggar lies Clasped unto his Father's breast. " Clothe him in this royal dress — *Tis my son, who once was lost, 37 V< A W SONG OF MERCY, Robe him in the righteousness Which Immanuel's life-blood cost. " Hither now, my servants, bring Sandals for his bruised feet, For his hand my royal ring, Sonship's pledge and seal complete." Joy in heaven ! The glad refrain Sweeps the universe around ; *' One was dead who lives again, God's dear wanderer is found ! " SONG OF MERCY. *' Not by "works oy righteousness ivhich we have done^ but accordiiig to His • mercy tie saved us: — liTUS lu. 5. This eventide, no loving deeds Of mine have grateful incense sent To Him, whose waiting face is bent Above His golden censer, While He intercedes. 38 SONG OF MERCY. The golden vials have out-poured Their precious odors, dear High-Priest ! Of all the myriad prayers, the least Was that ascended from My heart, O patient Lord ! Oh, how canst Thou accept in Heaven, Such worthless service, feeble love, So slow its little life to prove — • Except as slumbering proved The sorrowful Eleven ! Saviour, I shrink my prayers to bring ; My faith is loth to grasp Thy word, And hope is like a wounded bird, That scarcely can be made To try its broken wing. *' My child ! I know it better far Than thou canst tell me ; I have seen Thy long day's toil ; I know how keen The sufferings of thy life Of weary wrestling are. 39 ^4 COMFORTED. '* Press closer to my wounded side, My child ! Remember that in me, All mine are justified and free. Thou mayest make thy boast In me, the Crucified ! " Not for their faithful, fervent prayers, Are any saved ! For love that burns Are none accepted. Each one turns From self and lays his hand Upon the Lamb who bears *^ The sins of failure, as of guilt. Fear not ! Whom I, the Lord, do choose I often scourge ; but never lose One poor, weak, wayward lamb, For whom my blood was spilt ! " COMFORTED. "^ As one whom his mother cotn/orteth^ so ivill I cotnfort you ; and ye shall ht com/orted in yerusalejny — Isaiah Ixvi. 13. " Ye shall be comforted ! " As when a sobbing child Within its mother's arms, its griefs confessed, 40 COMFORTED. By her caresses fond unconsciously beguiled From memories of pain, soon sinks to rest ! ''^So will I comfort you^ Dear Lord, our hearts are sore ! We would be little children once again. But childhood would bring back the griefs we knew of yore, And not the mother who caressed us then ! We need a stronger love ; we seek a deeper rest — Whose type and earnest we once knew in this ; The nestling of the child upon its mother's breast, The sweet dreams won us by her good-night kiss. Lord, grant us restful sleep, untroubled, sweet and calm ; Not fitful slumbers in life's fevered dream. Oh, seal our weary eyelids with Thy touch of balm ; Not to re-ope until the Great Day's gleam. And yet we are such children — foolish, weak, and blind — That while we pray for sleep, Thy gentle hand May change the calming cup, and, far more wise and kind, Give needed bitterness, with this command : 41 '^t ^A COM FOR TED. " Drink, child ! Thy Father's love shall make the unsought draught Sweet to thy soul, though bitter to thy lips. Think how for thee thy gracious Elder Brother quaffed The cup of anguish, 'neath my Love's eclipse." Ah, Father ! whatsoe'er Thy children truly need Thou givest — not whatever we beseech. Often we rashly think Thy pity gives no heed. When still Thou boldest blessings out of reach. But when the long, hard lesson we have learned at length, And with unmurmuring meekness we receive The cup whose bitter draught gives new and mighty strength^ We own Thy faithful love and no more grieve ; Resting in patient hope, although Thou long withhold The chalice, death and life-brimmed, chrismal seal Of conquest, at whose touch the gates, of pearl unfold, And all the golden city's bliss reveal. We only wait as minors, till the glad birthday Shall crown us kings before our Father's throne ; 42 A RECRUITING SONG. As exile princes now, although so far away, We look unto the land we call our own. Yet, comfortless as orphans Thou dost never make Thine own. Who trust in Thee, Thou'lt keep in peace ; And when our night-time comes, Thou'lt bid us sleep to wake Where every sob is hushed and sorrows cease. 1^ A RECRUITING SONG. Oh, who'll enlist for Jesus ? Who'll bear the Saviour's cross, And count all earthly honors, Compared with this, as dross ? Who'll guard our Captain's colors, And all their foes defy ? A hundred voices answer, "I will," "And I," "And I!" He is the noblest Captain That e'er on earth drew breath. He vanquished hell and Satan, And dying, conquered death. 43 ^4 41^ ^ RECRUITING SONG. He loved us when rebellious, And in the ranks of sin ; He tenderly besought us, That He our love might win. He sought us when deserters, To bring us back when found, And will you let His colors Be trailed upon the ground ? Come ! pledge your hearts and honor To fight for Him till death — To stand beside the standard Of Christ of Nazareth. Aye ! aye ! We'll fight for Jesus, And trust His mighty strength, To fortify our weakness, And shield us, till at length He'll give us glorious triumph O'er hell, the world, and sin, When to the Great Headquarters We shall be gathered in. 44 A RECRUITING SONG. " No Captain now but Jesus ! " Let this our watchword be, This countersign He gives us, ^^ Fear not, but follow Me.'* And when w^e hear Him saying, " Sleep now, and take your rest," We'll slumber till the joyful Reveille of the Blest. To him that overcometh. And through the deadly strife Is unto death found faithful, He'll give a Crown of Life. And at the last grand muster, Before the Great White Throne, Our glorious Brother Captain His soldiers' names will own. Now is not this a Captain, Beneath whose flag to fight. Whose life-blood dyed His colors, Whose cause is always right ? 45 ^ /I ^ — 4 '^ EASTER JOY. Come ! rally round His standard, Ascended now on high, O soldiers, shout the answer, "I will," "And I," "And I." EASTER JOY. '"Weeping tnay endure for a nighty bzit joy cotnetk in the worningy — Ps. xxx. 5, Joy in the morning cometh ; Dear heart, why still be sad ? In Christ, our Resurrection, We may to-day be glad. The glorious day-dawn breaketh, The shadows flee away ; For in our risen Saviour We rise anew each day. No tomb of sin can hold us If we with Christ are dead ; For far above the heavens We live with Him, our Head. 46 MY PLEA. In Him our life is hidden : Who shall our peace destroy ? Each day " He gives us richly All good things to enjoy." Forgiveness, love, and guidance ; — All joys of this our lot — Come from our loving Father, Whose heart " upbraideth not." Dear heart, why still go weeping ? The long, long night is past ; The true light now is shining, And joy has come at last ! MY PLEA. ^'1 For Thy name's sake^ O Lord ! pardon mine iniquity; for it is great? — Psalm xxv. ii. Oh, love of Christ most true and deep, Stronger than Satan's hate ! Rest here thine only plea, my heart, And be importunate : 47 ^4 fi MV PLEA. I pray Thee, Lord, forgive my sins, Because they are so great. Full often I deny my Lord In weakness, pride, and fears ; Thy patient love that chideth not, Brings always bitter tears. Dear Lord, how often Thou hast " turned And looked " on me, these years ! Oh, break my heart, dear Christ, I pray, With grief for grieving Thee ; And let Thy blood still take away My broken heart from me, Lest I should trust its brokenness, Instead of trusting Thee. My soul to-night is tempest-tossed, And like a weary dove Would make its rest within Thine arms. And in Thine ebbless love Would see the blessed Olive branch All floods and fears above. 48 /JVTO THE HOLIEST. I will not doubt Thee, Lord, nor dread Lest, when all storms are past, A dove of Thine should ever prove A raven at the last ; The love which lived through death forme Will surely hold me fast. INTO THE HOLIEST. ^^ By whom also lue have access by faith into this grace wherein we stand^^ —Romans v. 2. Into this grace, abiding, sweet. Which like a magic room at first Before my eyes arose. And daily to a loftier height, — A nobler grandeur, grows, Oh, Door of Life, oh, living Door, Which never man shall close, Thou led'st my wayward feet. By Him we have received this grace Wherein we, changeful in ourselves. Unchangeable shall stand, 49 ^4— INTO THE HOLIEST, In strength to which the mountain's cliffs Are like the shifting sand ; In strength immovable because Supported by the Hand Which shakes the mountain's base. The purple Temple veil was rent That we, as royal priests through Thee, " The new and living way," Close passing by the altar where The precious victim lay. Into the Holiest Place of all Might enter day by day, By "better Testament." Ob, Living Ladder, up by Thee, Into our Father's arms we climb As children very dear ; And speaking all our fearless hearts We know that He will hear The prayers v/hose childlike utterance May reach no human ear, In love so glad and free. 50 THE IRON GA TE. Dear Brother Christ, to Thee we cling, For Thou dost know our human frame, And every human grief; And by the way of painful cross Thou bringest best relief. What wonder then, that in our hearts Thou shouldst be Lord and Chief, Our Brother and Our King ! w THE IRON GATE. They came unto the iron gate that leadeth unto the city, which oj>ened to thein of its own accord^ With eyes whose vision-range is low, With hearts that are content to grope, We fail to see the hosts of God That throng the higher hills of hope. But still we know Thy angels, Lord, Encamp around us day and night ; And sometimes faith uplifts the veil That hides " the witnesses " from sight. 51 T//£ IRON GATE, And when our captive hearts lie bound By fetters which we can not break, With shining light the angel comes, And at his touch those hearts awake : Awake to know that we are freed From forces we could never fight ; To know deliverance has come By prayer, and not by mortal might. So, when with love unquestioning. We trust the guidance of our Lord, Each iron gate that bars the way Will open of its own accord. What, to the Lord of all the earth, Are Herod and his men of war ; The stubborn heart of friend or foe. The keepers, or the bolted door ? He saves by many or by few ; Leave Israel's battles to the Lord. A pebble slung by David's hand Is better than Goliath's sword. 52 THE IRON GA TE. The piece of silver from the sea, The cruse of oil that wasted not, May find their answering types to-day In many a lowly Christian's lot. God leads His children forth alike, From wilderness or prison-cell ; And gives the desolate a home Of light and joy unspeakable. From closing walls of circumstance. From gloomy Castle of Despair, His arm will bring deliverance, In answer to unceasing prayer. Through narrow ways of toil and grief, He brings us to "an open place"; Beyond the gate the city lies. The goal of His all-guiding grace. O blessed parable to us, To teach us how to trust our Lord ! For, last of all, Death's iron gate Will open of its own accord. 53 X 7\ ^ \ ^4 Z\Jt±± ''OPEN THOU MY LIPS." ''OPEN THOU MY LIPS." Lord, I pray Thee touch My sinful, mute, earth-kissing lips with Thy pare hand, And give me grace Thy will and ways to understand ! Lord, is this boon too much ? Yet, if Thou choose to seal My lips in endless silence, I would gladly lay Thy patient hand upon them evermore, and pray, " Thyself in this reveal ! " 1 have not learned the speech Of angels in the glorious new Jerusalem ; And yet I hope my lips have touched His garment's hem, Who often deigns to reach His hand of tenderness — Ah, precious, pierced hand which once for sinners bled !- From heaven down to earth to lay it on my head. In heavenly caress. Lord, wouldst Thou have me be Forever silent, when Thou hast my soul redeemed, 54 "OPEN THOU MY LIPS." ^^ And now within Thine arms dost hold the lamb that seemed So lost to heaven and Thee ? With a warm, living coal From off Moriah's altar, where God's Isaac laid Hi? willing offering, and thus our ransom paid, Revivify my soul ! Touch lips, and heart, and life, That I may bear forever with me, till I die, Immanuel's death, and still repeat His dying cry Which ended all the strife. Teach me, dear Lord, to speak For Thee. So shall I never fear to speak amiss ; And when Thou'dst have me silent, seal with Thine own kiss My dying accents weak. May even Death's eclipse Then throw a halo round some timid, tearful word. In weakness sown for Christ — in power raised and heard From silent, death-sealed lips. 55 ^z I ''REX ERIS, SI RECTE FACIA Sr *'REX ERIS, SI RECTE FACIAS.' {Roman school-boy^ s shout.) — Horace. The shadows fall, the sunshine flies, It is the old, sad story ; And half of life in darkness lies When gloom enfolds the glory. .Yet darkest night grows into morn, And midnight brings the morrow ; So peace of patient trust is born, And strength comes out of sorrow. The life that is the blessedest Is not alway the brightest ; And hearts that seek no present rest Are evermore the lightest. The soldier's warfare is not long, _ However stern and friendless ; God's battle is not to the strong — The victor's joy is endless. Though Eden's innocence is past, With happiness primeval, 56 ''UNTIL THE DA Y BREAK:' Far higher is the might to cast Away and crush the evil. Each human heart from out the strong May bring the hidden sweetness, By trusting Him who wields the Wrong To work the Right's completeness. And he who walks with fearless tread To do God's bidding willing, Shall surely bruise the serpent's head, God's word of old fulfilling. Then bring the glory out of life, By trust and brave endeavor ; Who comes a victor from this strife Shall dwell a king forever. ''UNTIL THE DAY BREAK." " Until the day breaks and the shadows flee away^ — Cant. ii. 17. Oh, take me in Thine arms to rest, Until the breaking of the morn ! 57 z PC ''UNTIL THE DA Y BREAKS I am so weary, sad, forlorn, So faithless at the best ; So "troubled about many things,*^ I wait one moment at Thy feet, But ere the promised peace so sweet Folds its ethereal wings Within my panting heart, I rise Still cumbered with my little cares, Forgetting Him who ever shares Our pains, to sympathize. Ah, wearily the race I run ! The burden, which to love is light. Becomes too heavy for my might, " Not to leave aught undone," The toiling spirit ceaseless cries. Ah ! Jesus knows " the flesh is weak ! '*" Poor heart ! a spirit, loving, meek, Thy Saviour more doth prize 58 ''UNTIL THE DA Y BREAK.'* Than all this struggling eagerness. The Shepherd shows both staff and rod. " Be still ! and know that I am God ! '* He says in tenderness. " Remember, Isaac struggled not When on Moriah's altar bound — Hast thou such trials ever found Appointed in thy lot ? " Here to the altar's horns with cords, Lord, bind this lamb, although it be A sacrifice unworthy Thee, Yet, scoffer, 'tis the Lord's ! And for the One Great Offering's sake, Oh, make me strong to bear Thy will ; Strong now to suffer and lie still Until the morning break. No works can ever so much please Him whom afar we follow still. As child-like yielding to His will, Through life's stern agonies. 59 ONE WHOM THOU LOVEST, LORD. Who waits with patience on the Lord, And watcheth through the weary night Beside his armor, in the fight Bears Jesus' shield and sword. So now I lay my cares to rest Upon His heart who knows them all. He will not let a sparrow fall That flutters to His breast ! ONE WHOM THOU LOVEST, LORD! One whom Thou lovest, Lord, is sick ! Oh, grant her strengthening rest. And thoughts of peace when she awakes, Howe'er by pain oppressed : Sweet thoughts of Him who comes most near Us when we are distressed. We know, dear Lord, Thou lovest her ; Far better e'en than we ! Thy grace shall be sufficient grace, In her extremity. 60 ONE WHOM THOU LOVE ST, LORD. And the full blessedness of trust Shall be^wrought by Thee. For He who suffered once for us, Still suffers with His own ; The love that "spared not the Son," Yet spares us many a moan, And lifts the crushing burden, we Could never bear alone. Lord Jesus, let the loving hearts Which compass her around, Speak ever of that depth of love In which our griefs are drowned. The love in which we safely rest Our hearts can never sound. As one whose mother comforts him With sweet and close caress, Thou comfortest Thy children now In every sore distress : So comfort her, to-night, dear Lord, With Thine own tenderness ! 6i >^4 THE B URNT PA TH. GOOD-BYE! We said " Good-bye " ! It was a heartfelt prayer, A homely household blessing, old and sweet, Beseeching God's good guidance everywhere, Whatever dangers our beloved meet. So God be with you ! prayed I for my friend, Not dreaming how, while different paths we trod. Would come the answer, ere one short year's end. When he went home to be for aye with God ! And yet what better portion could we crave E'en for our dearest ? Earth could not afford A joy like his to-day ; his early grave Gave early access to his longed-for Lord ! THE BURNT PATH. ISAIAH Ixii. l6. My path lay through the wilderness ; I only dared to pray My Father for the promised strength, For every lonely day. 62 THE BURNT PATH. He set my feet in pleasant ways, He gave me love, to bless The heart that had not dared to ask For human tenderness. I lean from out my window height, This quiet summer eve ; A terror has laid hold on me, — I fain would not receive The parable my eyes have read, The meaning made so plain, That, turn my eyes, and turn my thoughts, I see it yet again. At dawn there was a meadow fair : Beyond, a field of wheat. Daisies and buttercups looked up, 'Mid clover blossoms sw^eet. No path lay through the pleasant field, No footsteps sought to gain 63 -J/f_ THE B URNT PA TH. The hill beyond the meadow land, Beyond the nodding grain. To-night ! a hidden path lies bare, For grass and grain are low, The flames that wasted them have shown The path I did not know. Oh, have I read Thy meaning right ? Is this Thy way for me ? The daisied grass, the nodding grain, The hill-top fair to see : And then, the sudden, leaping flames, So ruthless in their haste To sweep the pleasant fields, and show The path through blackened waste. O God, Thou seest, knowest all, I pray Thee quiet me, And make me brave, if need be so, To walk that way with Thee. 64 THANKFULNESS. THANKFULNESS. " I SHIVER, shiver, mother, I can not go to sleep ! If you would stop your sewing, And only let me creep Close up beside you, mother, If you would hold me tight, I wouldn't mind the howling Of the ugly wind all night. It's crying to get in here, Perhaps it's lost its way ; How many hours, mother, Before it will be day ? " Through crevice and through casement The wind swept drearily. " Oh, God," she prayed, " have mercy On all who 're out at sea 1 " Then kneeling at the bedside, In loving voice she said : " My darling, you know mother Must sew to earn our bread, 65 ^.^ z ip- «- ak / s THANKFULNESS, ■1 By 'nd by we'll have a blanket, So soft, and thick, and warm: Then Willie needn't shiver, Nor mind the wind and storm. By 'nd by, when father's ship comes — " " Oh, mother, don't you cry ! 'Twill be real jolly, mother, But when is by and by ? " " God knows, God knows, my darling," She murmurs brokenly. " Why, doesn't God love father As much as you love me ? I know you said so, mother, And I am just as sure He's awful sorry for us now, Because we're cold and poor." The mother's face was lifted, With happy trust aglow ; ("^ little child shall lead them ! ") " Now, precious, I must go. So I can finish sewing Before the lamp burns low." 66 THANKFULNESS. She held him close, and kissed him, Then swiftly left the room ; Moved by a sudden impulse, She passed into the gloom, With flickering light to guide her. Unhinged the outer door. And with it, back to Willie She came, and on the floor Knelt down again beside him. And laughing, gaily said : " See, here's a funny blanket, A blanket for your bed. I'll make a little house, dear, A tent against the wall ! " " Oh, mother dear, that's jolly, I don't feel cold at all. Good-night, my dear, good mother, I think God must have sent The very thought into your heart About this little tent. Please thank Him ; I'm so sleepy ;^ So sorry — sorry for " — 67 UR SA VIO UR'S LO VE. The words fell slowly — " little boys, That have no cellar-door ! " OUR SAVIOUR'S LOVE. Dear Lord I Thou knowest oftentimes I wonder if so faint a strife Be strife at all. The inner life Is lulled by far-off fairy chimes So willingly. The rainbow gleam Of by-gone happiness and tears, The opening vista of the years, The memory sad, the happy dream, Throng the recesses of my heart. They haunt with almost ghostly sway The sunny hours of the day, And just at eventide depart. And yet, and yet. Thou still dost stand. While one who bears Thy precious name Thus puts Thee to an open shame. Piercing the nail-prints in Thy hand. 68 OUR SA VIOUR'S LOVE. Ah, patient Lord ! I scarce can brook The thought of my ingratitude, When, after my denials rude. Thou turnest with Thy melting look, So full of untold tenderness, And yet of wondrous, wondering grief — As if it were beyond belief — Thou turnest, ready still to bless Thy sinful, wayward, worthless child. Thou knowest how my love grows cold ! Close to Thy pitying heart,- oh, hold The heart so oft by earth beguiled ! Here ! Lord, I pray Thee, enter in Thy temple gates, and with a scourge Drive out this earthly traffic, purge Thy house of fellowship with sin. Set Thine own angel with a sword To guard Thy house, " the house of prayer,' And seal each creature entering there With " Holiness unto the Lord ! " 69 ^4— 1 THE BLOSSOM STORM. THE BLOSSOM STORM. Out from the happy sunshine, Into the drenching rain ; The sky is so black, I wonder If the sun will shine again, While down in my heart are ringing The words that you uttered to-day : ** There's a storm that bringeth the blossoms, As surely as cometh the May." An hour ago the village Was gay with the changing crowd ; And up in the blue, blue heavens, Was only a tiny cloud. The trees stand firm in the shower. The shower grows into a storm ; And the dear little birdlings nestle Safe under their covert warm. While all through the dashing rain-drops, A low, sweet song of content 70 THE BLOSSOM STORM. Is breathed from woodland and meadow, For the rain the Father hath sent. And the tiny buds that the sunshine Would wither, grow fast in the rain ; As lives, that in pleasure would perish, Grow noble and fruitful in pain. For the good Lord of the harvest Is marking each bud and each shoot ; And sendeth the storm to strengthen The blossom that grows into fruit. As one that waits for the morning Through the sad and lonely night, I watch for the joy that cometh Again with returning light. • •••••• The rain is over at daybreak. And the Sabbath sunshine warm Floods the glad earth that is wearing The beauty which grew in the storm. 71 N ^ ^ THE BLOSSOM STORM. I think of the vision on Tabor, And the raiment so vondrously white Of the glorious resurrection After the sad, dark night — Of the clouds that once were gathered, Of the storms that once were poured On the trees that stand forever In the garden of the Lord. Forever they grow in the sunshine. While to us life's trouble and pain Must be like the clouds of heaven, Returning still after the rain. But standing to-day in the sunshine, God's sunshine, sweet and warm. We pray — may each sorrow He sendeth Be ever a Blossom Storm. 72 >^iT LIGHTS ASHORE. LIGHTS ASHORE. The ship was anchored in the bay — Upon the shore, the town Rose up and climbed among the palms Just where the sun went down. In gloom died out the sunset glow Upon the leaden sea, But still the city on the hill Grew brighter silently. More white and fair it gleamed afar, As heavier fell the night ; But dull and dark the waters lay Between us and the light. Athwart the gloom, like sea-gull fair, A boat shoots from the shore, With fringe of phosphorescent light On every flashing oar. A living thing of light it seems — Swift, welcome-bringing bark ! 73 I* "r A- LIGHTS ASHORE. A carrier-dove from home, sweet home^ To sad hearts in the dark. Then sweet and clear across the waves The vesper chimes are borne — Glad joy-bells from the shining heights To wanderers forlorn ! Oh, lights ashore ! Oh, little boat, And heavenly vesper-bell ! The thoughts that tremble in my heart, I know not how to tell ! How deep and dark the leaden waves — How fair the city's light — How lonely lies our exiled ship At anchor in the night ! How fairer still must heaven be ! Oh, could some white dove come From yon far haven of our hearts, To bring us news from Home ! 74 CHRIST AND MY HEART. Love, mightier than death itself! Thy dove of peace hath crossed The floods, to nestle in the heart That once was tempest-tossed. Dear Father's house, where Jesus waits, Thy glory brightens fast ! Oh, bells of heaven, ring for us Safe Home with Christ at last ! CHRIST AND MY HEART. I'm weak— so weak, an infant's clasp Is mightier than mine to-night. T fear I ne'er have held aright The Cross I vainly strive to grasp. I'm like a reed swayed by the blast ! Ah, sorrow's angel, sad and stern, Must school the heart so slow to learn ! How long, Lord, must the battle last ? 75 CHRIST AND MY HEART. And yet I shrink, with sudden chill, From threatened discipline of loss — My nerveless hands unclasp this cross. Hopeless, I suffer and lie still. Until a touch of angel wings, Or dearer still, my mother's kiss, Brings near a sense of Heaven's bliss, With longings deep for holy things. Dear, patient, interceding Lord, My Saviour loving after death, Thy heart of pleading pity saith Through every opening wound outpoured : " Oh, child, so ready to mistrust The love that knows no end or bound. Must thou into mine every wound Thy hand so unbelieving thrust ? ** What need hast thou of doubt and fear? Those v/eapons are my foe's, not mine. Glad hope and blessed trust be thine. And not the mocking soldier's spear, 76 I^fff CHRIST AND MY HEART. ** Poor trembling child ! I know how weak Is mortal flesh ; for every stroke That smites thee, on thy Saviour broke, Before it touched thy shrinking cheek. " And yet so fearful still thou art, When to unlock thy earthward grasp I touch, with pierced hand to clasp Thee only nearer to my heart ! " O soul, so slow to hear, so dumb, Unanswering to each tender word ! At last thy deepest heart is stirred — *' Dear Saviour, as a child I come ! ^' No longer with a hireling's dread, I run to rest within Thine arms. Life's fiercest storms can never harm My safely, sweetly sheltered head. *' Thy love, not mine. Thy hold so strong, And not my wavering clasp, make sure My safety. I can stand secure, Although the strife be hard and long." 77 ^ /\ : » FLOWERS FOR THE BABY'S FEET, FLOWERS FOR THE BABY'S FEET. Oh, dimpled baby feet that never, never more Shall make their happy music, pattering on the floor ; Oh, blessed little feet that shall not go astray, Nor ever learn to falter on this earthly way ; The Saviour is more precious, heaven more real and sweet, Since through the gates of death have passed those baby feet, Dear, dainty waxen house, where for a little while The baby dwelt, and blessed us with her sunny smile ! Close to our hearts in life we held her safe and warm. How can we leave her now, to winter winds and storm ? Ah, friends ! be not afraid, He'll guard this treasure too, Safe is the keeping of the Lord who died for you. Oh, empty arms and heart ! poor heart that still must ache, The sweet incentive missing — "for the baby's sake." God bade your darling teach you lessons sweet to learn, — Himself is teacher now, when chastening seems stern. To His own heart He'll hold your eyes with weeping dim, Until you learn 'tis sweeter far to live for Him. 78 Kl^ ''THE LORD OUR HELPER:' Lone mother-love that hovers o'er this empty nest, Look up ! your Saviour's arms have clasped her to His breast. He'll give her back to you, in fairer beauty bright ; When dawns the glad new day that never has a night ! In sure and certain hope, we lay earth's flowers sweet, Until the resurrection, at your baby's feet. "THE LORD OUR HELPER." '''Without tne ye can do nothing,''^ — John xv, 5. Nothing without Thee, blessed Lord, But with Thine arm of might Clasped close around me, shield and sword, I put my foes to flight. It is not pride that makes its boast In Thine almightiness ; For when I own Thy power most. My weakness I confess. Nor is it that there is for me The faintest right to seek 79 ♦ 'PO S T TENEBRA S L UX." The strength of Him who loves to be A Helper of the weak ; But only for His mercy's sake, And with my earnest plea, " I am oppressed, oh, undertake And plead my cause for me ! " For He is strong to save and hold, And with each daily test The arm which makes me glad and bold Still gives me sweetest rest. "POST TENEBRAS LUX!" " God is the Lord^ which, hath shewed us light.'''' — Ps. cxviii. 27, It is His way, and so it must be right ; Although at every step some foot that bleeds Leaves print of anguish, still our Father leads Through darkness unto light. So dark it seems ! We long for break of day ; We know not Jesus on the midnight flood. Ah ! once He trod the path of woe and blood, His solitary way ! 80 "FOST TENEBRAS LUXy And yet that path of deepest gloom and woe Led up to glory, greater for the Cross, To which He bowed in lifelong want and loss, With " Father, even so ! " For midnight darkness often bears within Its baffling blackness germs of Heaven's light ; God's holiness is not one ray less bright For all this dark world's sin. He holds us in the hollow of His hand, And gives us light as we can bear it now ; His glory's shadow upon Moses' brow Was brightness far too grand For sinful Israel's eyes to look upon ; Yet those whose patient hearts seek daily strength, Shall surely have the eagle's wings at length, To mount toward the Sun. And eagle's vision, clear and bright and strong. E'en here is given those whose hearts are pure , They, seeing Him invisible, endure, Although the way be long. 8i "FOST TENEBRA S L UX. " To them a light ariseth, and the day, Hid from Egyptian eyes by dark eclipse, Shines bright as noon, and on their trustful lips Wakes praises while they pray. And so we need no longer vainly grope. Moaning the poet's death-cry, " Light, more light ! " We need not earth's dark-lanterns, for the night Is brilliant with the hope Of fairer day-dawn than e'er blessed the Hills Of God around Jerusalem of old. Ay ! while we watch the East, a flush of gold The glad horizon fills. For God is Light itself, in Him we know There is no darkness, and when we at last Dwell in Him truly, darkness shall be past, And life be all aglow. Oh, Christian ! as the bird that sings at night, Or as the bird that God has taught to wait Until the day-break — sing at Heaven's Gate, *' For after Darkness, Light ! " 82 ''SURELY I COME QUICKLY:* "SURELY I COME QUICKLY." REV. xxii. 30. At even, or at midnight y or at the cock-crowing^ or in the morning?^ — St. Mark xiii. 35. O Soldiers of the Lord of hosts ! How can we fight so feebly, when We hear the glad exulting shout, " He comes unto His own again ! " He Cometh ! Whether just at eve, When purple glory crowns the west, Or in the midnight's deepest gloom, We know His time is always best. Though in the flush of early dawn He calls, and from our aching eyes Our best beloved pass away Into the light of Paradise — Ah ! well it is for them, for us. So but the Master's work be done — For us, still panting in the heat Of life's long battle sorely won ; 83 ''SURELY I COME QUICKLY." And well, most surely well, for those Young soldiers, who with fearless eye Waited their unseen Captain's word, Ready alike to do or die. Well ! though the bugle blast of Fame Shall never speak their grand renown ; Well ! though the slumbering world knows not Their early victory and crown. For eastern light and sunset glow Are but His heralds on the hills Around this valley-life of ours, With all its deathly damps and chills. Up ! for the Lord of glory comes Down from the city's golden street ; And on the shining hills afar How beautiful appear His feet ! Ay, once again your sacred heights, O hills of God ! His feet shall press; And He shall set the ransomed free From every weight and weariness. 84 ''DISCOURAGED BECAUSE OF THE IVA Y." Oh, quickly come, our Lord and Love ! Weary we are, and yet at rest ; For in Thy answer, " Lo, I come ! " Our longing, trusting hearts are blest. ''DISCOURAGED BECAUSE OF THE WAY. NUMBERS Xxi. 4. Poor, weary, murmuring soul Longing in secret for the Lord's release, Impatient for thy pilgrimage to cease, While yet far from the goal. This strengthening word of cheer — A sunbeam gladdening earth's desert-waste, " jffe that believes on me shall not fnake haste " — Falls on thy listening ear. Earth's laborers may repine When tardy nightfall lengthens out the day ; Their weary eyes may chide the long delay, But, oh, my soul ! not thine. 85 >» ^4 ''DISCOURAGED BECAUSE OF THE WAVr They may despond, but thou, The servant, nay, the child of God, the heir Of glory everlasting, shouldst thou wear Such gloom upon thy brow ? Thy wistful glances trace The nearer path to Heaven which some have trod — The path baptized by their tears and blood, Who ran the martyr's race. And couldst thou fearless drink That cup of mortal agony and woe ; *Neath the dread terror of the sev'ring blow Would flesh nor spirit shrink ? Presumptuous, sinful thought ! E'en now thou faintest, when thine eager lips Find sorrow in joy's cup. One hour's eclipse Of light to thee is fraught With sorrow and dismay ; And couldst thou walk serene through Death's dark vale, Would not thy footsteps falter, spirit fail, Without one cheering ray ? 86 UP TO THE HILLS. Nay ! Leave to God, all-wise, The ordering of thy path. Be thine alone The earnest care to walk as He hath shown, With heaven-directed eyes ! Firm to the end, endure ! Seest not the glorious crown hung at the goal ? Fear not ! In patient strength possess thy soul ; God's promise standeth sure ! UP TO THE HILLS. Up to the hills I lift my longing eyes — Unto the hills aglow with sunset light. There purpling amethyst and ruby dyes Half veil the golden glory on the height. It is a pictured gleam of Paradise, Where saints might walk in robes of dazzling white, Down in the valley, where the vapors cling, Full redly shines the sun through lurid mist — A Samson, shrinking evermore to fling The soft Delilah who his brows had kissed, 87 ' ' UP TO 7 HE HILLS. And with her flower-scented breath of spring Had shorn him of his strength before he wist. Deep-rifted rocks are there, and denser shades, Where scarlet cardinals uprear their cloven bells ; And aromatic fragrance 'mid the glades, Deep-strewn with last year's leaves, forever dwells. There violets live and die — the wind-flower fades, Soft-tinted with the flush of sea-shore shells. Too cool, too dense, with sweet decay too rife — Too full of memories, of fond regret. They who toil upward toward the goal of life Each lower, lesser purpose must forget : He who would be a victor in the strife Must early brush the tears from eyelids wet. Oh, far-off hill-top, in the crimson west, Encrowned by the sunset's diadem ! The clouds that hover o'er thy swelling crest Might be the fringes on the curtain's hem ; Beyond which doth the true Shekinah rest, In the New Temple at Jerusalem. x/ MY MI THE J?. And thus I turn my longing eyes to thee, Thou fair Evangel ! in whose glowing light- Faint image of the glory yet to be — I trace the promise every eve more bright : One day I shall the greater glory see, And walk with Jesus clad in spotless white. F MY MITHER. I've wearied for ye, oh sae sair, my mither, mither dear, An' in this simmer gloaming, I've been dreamin' ye were here. j Aince mair I felt your tender han' laid lichtly on my cheek. An' a'maist choked a sob o' joy to wait gin ye wad speak. But never, never, never mair, shall ye touch cheek o' mine, I Oh mither, mither ta'en awa frae us yon sad Lang Syne. » It gars my heart beat like to break to min' me o' the blow j That crushed sairlymony hearts when ye were lain sae low. ! An' yet He lo'ed us tho' He smote, an' after-whiles I ken i The tender mercy o' the Han' that took ye frae us then. 1 89 MV MITHER. He did it — aye our mither's God, His will maun be the best - To us He gave the lanely road, to her He gave the rest. Nae langer cries my rebel heart that ye went Hame too sune^ Frae kirk-yard graves I lift my head unto the stars abune ; E'en tho' your winsome Robin's head rests not beside you here^ He's wi' ye evermair in Heaven, oh mither, mither dear ! The bonny Hame we luved weel, is Hame to us nae mair, But a' its memories are oors, sae tender sweet tho' sair. Her footfa's wander saft an' licht, as shadows on the floor. An' still I dream she Stan's o' nicht beside the nursery door \ Aince mair she gies the Gude-nicht kiss ! Oh Dreamer, ye maun waken. Lang years maun pruve His better luve, Wha dearest anes- has taken. Sin' up to Heaven rins ilka road, unthocht o' an' unkenn'd, Whaur gae her bairns wi' Him alane Wha kens baith path an' end. Oh mither gane to God sae sune ! Wha's faith gar'd michty claim On His gude promise for her bairns thro' Christ the Savior's- name ; 90 7? MV GUEST, When to His fauld the Shepherd brings His flock at fa' o* nicht, Will she na ken her ain again, in yon fair fields o' licht ? MY GUEST. 1/ any man hear tny voice, and open the door, I will come in to him, and will sup with him, and he with me.'''' — Rev. iii. 20. I HAVE a wondrous guest, Who speeds my feet, who moves my hands. Who strengthens, comforts, guides, commands, Whose presence gives me rest. He dwells within my soul ; He swept away the filth and gloom, He garnished fair the empty room, And occupies the whole. For aye by day and night, He keeps the portal, suffers naught 91 ^4 MY GUEST. Defile the temple He has bought, And filleiS with joy and light. Regenerate by His grace, Still 'tis a meager inn at best, For heaven's King to make His rest, And show His glorious face. Yet, Saviour, ne'er depart From this poor earthly cottage home. Until the Father bid me come, Whisp'ring within my heart : " I shake these cottage walls ; Fear not : at my command they bow ; My heavenly mansions open now, As this poor dwelling falls." Then my dear wondrous guest Shall bear me in His own right hand Unto that far-off Promised Land, Where I in Him shall rest. 92 THE PA TIENCE OF THE LORD. THE PATIENCE OF THE LORD. ^"Account that the long-suffering of our Lord is salvation.^'' Ye will not, will not come ! Oh, slow of heart and blind. No more you heed His message than the whistling of the wind. Ah, know you there is nothing between you and the sword Of justice trembling o'er you, save the patience of the Lord ? For you there is no beauty in the face the soldiers marred, You can see no crown of glory on the brow the thorns have scarred ; But the hour will surely come when the day of grace must end, And the sinner stand in judgment, before his patient friend. My brothers and my sisters, how long will you refuse Eternal life through Jesus, while the death of deaths you choose ? Why trample on His warnings and put His love to scorn Who has been so patient with you since the day when you were born ? 93 ... K^ ^4 y|T- -^-e, ::^ THE PA TIENCE OF THE LORD. You have left your Father's house because you would not hold In your hearts the thought of Him, while you wasted life and gold. If God had so forgotten you but for a moment's space, Long since you would have drifted beyond this word of grace. Ah ! they smile on in their sleep, till our hearts are like to break ! Oh, free Almighty Spirit, wilt Thou bid their souls awake, Whether by silent touch, or by an earthquake shock That shall rend the hearts of pride like the rending of a rock. Open wide their darkened souls that the truth may enter in, And give to them a hatred of the work and ways of sin ; And touch their blinded eyes, that they by faith may see One hanging for their sins upon the cursed tree. Long, long our Lord has waited, for this blessed word is true. " His long-suffering is salvation." Oh, let it be for you — And for every one that heareth ; ah, what remorse and pain Must be yours if you are willing that His grace should be in vain. 94 BABY ANNIE. ^t No power but His Spirit can change a heart of stone, But I can not hold my peace, for my need was like your own ; And no prodigal that cometh shall e'er be turned away, Though by night he comes to Jesus while others come by day. Oh, hearts once warm and tender that now are hard and cold, Hearts that have grown a-weary in wandering from the fold, Here's shelter from the whirlwind. Run to it and abide. For He calls you now to enter, while the door is open wide. The Lord who died for sinners, aye saves them through and through ; In the Holiest of Holies He is pleading now for you, And the pierced Hand that hinders the falling of the sword, Gives us safety everlasting through the patience of the Lord ! BABY ANNIE. " My beloved is gone down into His garden . ... to gather lilies^* Oh, baby, in thy dreamless rest, So like a fair day-lily lying, With valley-lilies on thy breast, Thou art beyond the sound of crying ! — 95 ^4— BAB V ANNIE. And yet we walk in softness, lest We break God's hush by earthly sighing. Her little life was like a gleam Of sunlight from its glad beginning, And pain was but a passing dream, As shadowy to her, as sinning : And lovingness in her did seem The way she had to be so winning. Dear Saviour, ever 'tis of such Thou dost into Thy Kingdom gather ; Thou welcomest their fearless touch, Than homage of the rulers rather. We loved her, Lord — say not, too much. We sob, " Thy will be done, our Father ! We love Thee, Lord of Paradise, We go to Thee for peace and pardon ; — And yet we mark, with sad surprise, Thee when Thou walkest in Thy garden. Breaking our lily 'neath our eyes ! Oh, suffer not our hearts to harden ! 96 7j BAB Y ANNIE. Poor mother-heart, too faint and sore To rise like David from such sorrow ! Yet open wide your darkened door And comfort from God's sunlight borrow. Christ died, and lives forevermore, Trust Him for strength for each to-morrow ! God knows ! He gave His only One, From heart of love far deeper, vaster. And tears less bitterly will run, — Although sometimes they flow the faster, — When in the Father' s yielded Son We see our bleeding, loving Master. He knows the heart will ache and bleed With sense of want and loss still deeper ; A baby's memory must need Transform a singer to a weeper. *' Who weeping sows the precious seed, Shall come again a joyful reaper." Oh, take the hope God gives in this ! Grief meekly borne must yield you sweetnessl 97 MISSING. The baby-lips you can not kiss Wait for you still in Heaven's completeness ; And He who takes your present bliss, But works for both a fuller meetness. MISSING. In the little, low, vine-covered porch, half dreaming, sits Mabel, the maiden, And sings to her heart the old music — his farewell (oh, where is he now?): " Blue eyes true and tender, brown curls glinted gold by love's halo they played in, Be true to your colors ! Beloved, chase shadow from heart and from brow." Oh, blithe, trusting heart, recking naught of the future, but resting so wholly In memory sad of the parting, in hope of the meeting so sweet ! 98 7^ ^ [ MISSING. ** No shadow ! " she singeth ; yet ever the Shadow creeps •surely and slowly; Ah ! near and yet nearer ; now flinging its gloom o'er the sunny old street. *' The postman — a letter ! a letter ! " " No, lady, but news of a battle — Sad news for my poor wife — our boy ! His name's in the list of the killed. Our brave fellows fell where they fought, gained nothing, were slaughtered like cattle." " God help you ! " she prayed, as she stood in the Shadow, bewildered and chilled. ^* Full list of the wounded and dead." Ah ! see how her white fingers falter In eagerness, dread, and suspense. Poor heart, throbbing wildly with fear ; Blue eyes that grow dim as they glance at the name of some other one's Walter, With a full-hearted sigh and a sob, ** Thank God that his name is not here ! " 99 MISSING. Ay, bless God for that, in the hush of deep sympathy, tender and solemn, For those whose poor hearts had been broken o'er words which she hastily read ; Then, fearlessly turning the paper, she 'sees in the very next column " The missing, supposed to be left on the field, badly wounded or dead." ■ Great God ! are such shuddering heart-cries the price of a warrior's glory ? " Oh, Walter ! my Walter ! none other's, my only one, tender and brave ! " The battle-field flashes before her. Dark Night, hide the vision so gory ! She sees him alone in his anguish — she far away, helpless to save. '' It is bitter, too bitter : O Father ! have pity ; I still am Thy creature, Yet cannot look onward or upward. Is heart-breaking agony wrong? " loo s — N^ MISSING. Dear Saviour, who knowest our griefs, in Thine infinite ten- derness reach her Gethsemane's might and its meekness, to suffer, be still, and be strong ! Young Life, with thy diadem royal, the crown of a love true and tender, The joy of thy day-dawn has perished, the glory of sunset has passed ; Love's banner is trailing in ashes ; like a mirage has vanished its splendor ; For " missing " is everywhere written. The Shadow has fallen at last. Some murmur, " He was but a private ! " Ah ! well, to the Master up yonder, The soul of a private is precious as that of commander- in-chief ; And the mightiest monarch on earth never knew a love truer and fonder Than that of the woman who wrestles all night with the angel of grief. lOI z MISSING. " He died for his country," friends whisper ; '* and sweet are his slumbers, unbroken By footfall of friend or of foe, or the dash and the moan of the waves. Heart-violets spring from his ashes, and tenderest words ever spoken Are breathed o'er the hero hearts resting afar from their ancestors* graves." Ah ! yes ; but the heart smitten sorest is mute amid noisier sorrow. Unheeding the wail of the nation beside every patriot's tomb. Oh ! leave her, I pray you in pity, alone with her dead till to-morrow, To bury with him the sweet flowers that never more here are to bloom. Heaven send her its comfort ! The angel whose light touch so swiftly doth alter The full-chorded music of life to a monody thrillingly sad, I02 MV HEARTS AE DEARIE, ^;v Yet holds the mute heart-strings unbroken. Faith looks up and whispers, " Oh, Walter, You will not be missing forever! For that I bless God and am dad." ft' MY HEART'S AE DEARIE. I MAUNNA, daurna guess his name, — I dinna even ken his hame, Or if he's thro' the wide warld roaming ; Yet aft, upo' the whisp'rin' wind, I hear his voice, sae blithe an' kind, As he comes singin' thro* the gloaming. Oh, dinna think I'll gar him wait, Wi' doubtfu' han* upo' the gate. While speirin', is he Jock } or Johnnie 1 Na, na ! My heart will surely ken Him 'maingst a thousan' ither men, Howe'er ye ca' them braw an' bonny. I'll ken him, — as ye wad a king ; — Oh, not by croun, or robe, or ring, But maistly by his royal bearing ; 103 ^A