LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. Chap. Copyright No. Shelf_riX-V.lo[ i — ~ X^ UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. IN GREEN PASTURES PRELUDE. '■^ Green pastures ^^ said the Psalmist, In that old strain of praise Which pours its iJiatchless music o'er Our rough and rugged ways ; Which rests us with its tenderness As when a mother sings. And to our weary moods of pain Divinest healing brings. ^''And he who clothes the meadows. And weaves the radiant light Of flower and vine on mountain sides. And through the valleys bright. Shall give to 7ne the pasture green. The waters still and sweet. Oft as I take my need, my thirst. And bend me at His feet" Margaret E. Sangster. / IN GREEN PASTURES POEMS OF CHEER, FAITH HOPE, AND COMFORT He maketh me to lie down in green pastures : He leadeth me beside the still waters." Psalm, xxiii., 2. NEW YORK E. P. BUTTON & COMPANY 31 West Twenty-thibd Street 1897 5 TWO COPIES RECEIVED Copyright E. P, DUTTON & CO, 1897 Ube ftnichecbocliec pteee, View IQorfc PREFACE. Life has its dusty highways, its barren plains, its steep cliffs, and its slippery marshes, but it has also its green pastures. Nor are they far off in the distance ; they are close beside the daily path ; we need but to open a gate or step over a stile, and the grass is soft beneath our feet, the still waters are ready for our thirsty lips, and the peace which passeth all understanding lays its cool hand on our weary brows. Next to psalms and promises of Holy AVrit, it is the poets that lead us most skil- fully into these green pastures. They sing of faith and hope, of love and light ; they lift us over the rough places and help us up the steep paths ; they show us how to look beneath the dark surfaces into the shining depths ; they fit a song to every gladness and a hymn to every sorrow ; with them we walk through the green pastures of vi preface earth and look onward to the yet greener pastures of Heaven, It is of such songs that this collection has been made, — songs that inspire, en- courage, and comfort. They are new and old, they are drawn from sources unknown and well known, and they all sing of praise to God and love to man ; they tell us how to make the way smooth though it be rough, easy though it be hard, short though it be long, and therefore they are what we all need, — you and I, our friend and our friend's friend, — all who wish to make life " one grand, sweet song." And may the blessing of God be upon singers and listeners, now and always ! Note. — Sincere thanks are rendered to Hough- ton, Mifflin & Co., for their generosity in per- mitting the use of copyrighted poems by Emerson, Whittier, Lowell, Henry W. Longfellow, Edward R. Sill, Samuel Longfellow, Lucy Larcom, Alice and Phoebe Cary, and Celia Thaxter ; to Roberts Brothers for the use of those by Helen Hunt Jack- son, Susan Coolidge, and Emily Dickinson ; to Harper & Brothers for those of Margaret E. Sangster ; and to The Century Company for those by Richard Watson Gilder, CONTENTS. S. Weir Mitchell 85 . Celia Thaxter 93 Phoebe Gary 106 I. H. Brown 21 . W. M. L. Jay loi William Dean Howells iig . W. M. L. Jay 67 A TIRED HEART Katherine Tynan Hinkson 160 A worker's prayer Frances R. Havergal 29 Charles Wesley 197 Unidentified 195 Richard W^atson Gilder 26 . D. A. Wasson 205 Unidentified 32 Margaret E. Sangster 61 Robert Browning 128 James Arnold Blaisdell 37 Richard Chevenix Trench 106 Horatius Bonar, D.D. 36 BEN karshook's WISDOM Robert Browning 155 BETTER THINGS . . Gcorge MacDonald 64 BIRTHDAY VERSES . Anson D. F. Randolph 222 CARE THOU FOR ME Elizabeth P. Blanding 51 A CANTICLE OF TIME A GRATEFUL HEART A PRAYER A SERMON IN RHYME A SONG BY THE WAY A THANKSGIVING . A THOUSAND YEARS a working hymn . acceptable service after-song all's well ALMS ANGELS . ART VOGLER at eventime, AWEARY BEGIN THE DAY Contentg PAGE . Anna E. Hamilton 175 Anna L. Waring 72 Margaret E. Sangster 38 Susan Coolidge 127 . R. E. J. A. 143 . Jean Ingelow 13 . George MacDonald 103 Christina G. Rossetti 26 Charles P. Nettleton 34 Mary G. Seward 36 . Celia Thaxter 193 Ralph Waldo Emerson 65 . Caroline A. Mason 43 . W. M. L. Jay 161 EXAMPLE (from ' ' Santa Filomena ") Henry W, Longfellow 38 Christina G. Rossetti 210 . Celia Thaxter 227 Julia Taft Bayne 116 . John B. Taft 167 . W. M. L. Jay 208 . Mary Bradley 209 Lord Lytton 90 Christina G. Rossetti 134 Robert Browning 17 Ralph Waldo Emerson 8 . J. G. Holland 120 GREEN PASTURES AND STILL WATERS, W. M. L. Jay i HARSH JUDGMENTS . . Frederick W. Faber 112 CHRIST S INVITATION COMFORTED . COMMON MERCIES . COMMONPLACE COMPENSATION CONSIDER IT . CONSIDER THE RAVENS CONTENT COUPLETS DAY BY DAY . DISCONTENT . EACH AND ALL EN VOYAGE . EVERYDAY DUTY EYE HATH NOT SEEN, FAITH . FATE? — GOD , FERN- SONG FOREBODINGS FORETASTE . GIVING . GOD KNOWS . god's ALL-COMPLETE good in all. gradatim Contents HIDDEN GROWTH . . Henry Vaughan HIS COMPASSIONS FAIL NOT, John W. Chadwick HOME .... George MacDonald HOPE. ACT .... John Sterling HOPE EVERMORE AND BELIEVE, Arthur Hugh Clough HOW LONG ? . . Christina G. Rossetti HOW TO LIVE . Horatius Bonar, D.D. HUNGER FOR RIGHTEOUSNESS, George MacDonald I LAY ME DOWN TO SLEEP, Mary Woolsey Howard I SAID .... Caroline A. Mason IF W. M. L. Jay IF ONLY . . Edward Rowland Sill IF YE LOVE ME KEEP MY COMMANDMENTS, Christina G. Rossetti Caroline M. Noel . W. M. L. Jay Christina G. Rossetti James Russell Lowell Robert Underwood Johnson Clara Marcelle Greene IN PAIN IN PART IN PATIENCE . IN QUIET WAYS IN THE DARK INJUNCTION . INSIGHT INSOMNIA ITS COST KINDLINESS . LAST AND BEST LEND A HAND LIFE Emily Dickinson Caroline M. Noel . Robert Lowell George Herbert Alice Cary . Julia Wolcott Edward Rowland Sill PAGE 221 78 228 213 62 226 198 24 49 215 156 23 165 16 46 201 138 76 200 175 189 114 1X2 24 27 13 Contents PAGE 4 . Alice Gary 224 . Adelaide A. Procter 152 Julia P. Dabney 60 Christina G. Rossetti 117 Samuel Longfellow 33 Lord Houghton igg George Herbert 87 LOVE AND HATE (from " Christus ") Henry W. Longfellow 20 Maria Upham Drake 137 Cecil Francis Alexander 89 Alice Gary 121 . George MacDonald 135 Susan Coolidge 5 Matthew Arnold 181 William Cullen Bryant 77 . Eliza Calvert Hall 136 Harriet McEwen Kimball 97 From the German of W. C. Dressier 207 Amos R. Wells 114 Christina G. Rossetti 149 . Anna E. Hamilton 71 MY TIMES ARE IN THY HAND, Mary Bradley 45 nature's RENEWING . James B. Kenyon 48 John Greenleaf Whittier 66 Priscilla Leonard 186 Christina G. Rossetti 139 Helen Hunt Jackson 99 Emily Dickinson 133 LIGHT . LIGHT AND SHADE. LIKE THE LARK LONGING LOOKING UNTO GOD LOSS AND GAIN LOVE LOVE S SACRIFICE MANNA . MANY MEMBERS MATTHEW, vii, 9 MIRACLE MORALITY MUTATION MY ENEMY MY FIELD MY FRIEND MY GOODS MY PLEA MY PRAYER NEEDLESS FEARS NIL NISI BONUM NONE OTHER . NOT AS I WILL NOT CONCLUSION Gontcnt6 PAGE NO UNBELIEF . Unidentified 1 66 NOVEMBER AND APRIL . Samuel Longfellow 126 OMNIPRESENCE John Bowring 157 ONE DEED Richard Watson Gilder 7 OPEN THY HEART , , Johanna Ambrosius 115 OPPOSITION . . Sidney Lanier 88 OPTIMISM Robert Browning 222 OUR DAILY BREAD . Susan Coolidge 185 OUR LAMPS . M. Elizabeth Grouse 78 OUR SHEPHERD . W. L. M. Jay 173 OVER AND OVER AGAIN . Josephine Pollard 27 PRAYER . . George MacDonald 181 PROGRESS . C. G. Hazard 10 RABBI BEN EZRA . Robert Browning 168 RECIPROCATION Christina G. Rossetti 81 RECONCILED . Phoebe Gary 202 REFRESHMENT, Richard Chevenix Trench 172 REJOICE EVERMORE . W. M. L. Jay 14 REST . George MacDonald 2 RESURGAM Helen Hunt Jackson 42 RIVERS AND SEA Christina G. Rossetti 32 SEEKING Dora Greenwell 10 SELF-EXAMINATION George Herbert lOI SENSITIVENESS . John Newman 92 SINGING ALL THE WAY . . W. M. L. Jay 30 SNOW-BLOOM . . Lucy Larcom 102 SONGS OF PRAISE . Adeline D. T. Whitney 132 SOUL-TUNING . John Donne 40 SPIRITUAL SENSES, (from " Reliques of the Christ ") . Denis Wortman 85 xiv Contents PAGE START AND GOAL . . Christina G. Rossetti 67 STRIVE, WAIT, AND PRAY, Adelaide A. Proctor 80 SUBMISSION . . . . W, M. L. Jay 221 SUBSTANCE .... Alice Gary 76 SWEETNESSES .... W. M. L. Jay 81 TERMINUS . . Ralph Waldo Emerson 228 THE ANGEL OF PATIENCE, John Greenleaf Whittier 118 THE ANGEL REAPERS, Elizabeth Barber Barrett 216 THE ANSWER (translated by Rev. James F. Clarke) . . . Dschladeddin 211 THE BLESSED TASK, Harriet McEwen Kimball 176 THE CELESTIAL SURGEON, Robert Louis Stevenson 91 THE CHRONICLES OF HOPE Lord Houghton 75 THE CRIMSON THRONE, George MacDonald 220 THE DAY OF THE LORD Margaret E. Sangster 180 THE DESIRE TO DEPART . . . B. M. l62 THE ETERNAL GOODNESS, John Greenleaf Whittier 191 THE father's hymn FOR THE MOTHER TO SING . . . George MacDonald 150 THE FOIL . . • George Herbert 73 THE FULNESS OF TIME . Julia P. Dabney 163 THE GREAT TEACHER, Frances R. Havergal 182 THE HARDEST TIME OF ALL, Sarah Doudney 124 THE HUMAN CRY . Alfred, Lord Tennyson 125 THE LAW OF LOVE, Richard Chevenix Trench 219 THE LIGHT THAT IS FELT, John Greenleaf Whittier 59 Contenta THE LOVE OF GOD . . . Eliza Scudder THE LOWLY LIFE . . . Gerald Massey THE MAN AT THE GATE . . . B. M, THE master's TOUCH, Horatius Bonar, D.D. THE NEW JERUSALEM . Denis Wortman THE NINTH PARADISE, From Alger's Oriental Poetry THE QUEST .... Eliza Scudder THE SONG OF THE WATCHERS, W. M. L. Jay THE soul's PARTING . Dora Greenwell THE SOWER . . Richard Watson Gilder THE spirit's GROWTH, William Wordsworth THE THOUGHT OF GOD THE WAKING HEART THE WORTH OF HOURS THOU KNOWEST THY LIGHT . THY WILL TINY TOKENS . TIRED . TO ALL WHO CLIMB TO FIGHT ALOUD TOIL AND REST TO-MORROW . TRANSFIGURED TRUST . TWO WAYFARERS UNCHANGING . UNDYING LIGHT VIOLETS . Frederick W. Faber . W. M. L. Jay Lord Houghton Phoebe Gary Constance Milman Christina G. Rossetti Frances R. Havergal Peter Burns Eudora S. Bumstead Emily Dickinson . W. M. L. Jay Christina G. Rossetti . Lucy Larcom Lord Lytton Katherine Tynan Hinkson . George MacDonald Richard Watson Gilder . Lucy Larcom PAGE 95 i68 53 50 143 204 177 140 186 82 155 147 121 no 158 110 52 164 225 98 44 218 214 3 149 107 48 146 218 xvi Contents PAGE WAIT ..... Unidentified 94 WHAT RABBI JEHOSHA SAID, James Russell Lowell 8 WHAT SHALL IT PROFIT ? William Dean Howells 96 WHAT THOU WILT . Frances R. Havergal 74 WHEN TO PRAY (from ' ' The Children of the Lord's Supper") Henry W. Longfellow 154 WHICH IS BEST . . Margaret Dooris 17 WIEGENLIED . . Edward Rowland Sill 179 WISH AND ACTION (from " The Wishing Gate ") . William Wordsworth 184 WORK . . . Elizabeth B. Browning 28 WORK AND CONTEMPLATION, Elizabeth B. Browning 131 WORLDLY PLACE . . Matthew Arnold 131 WORSHIP . . John Greenleaf Whittier 84 YEA, I HAVE A GOODLY HERITAGE, Christina G. Rossetti 41 YET ONWARD .... Lucy Larcom 35 YOU THREE . . Ethelwyn Wetherald 123 YOUR FAULT . . Ralph Waldo Emerson 124 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS IN GREEN PASTURES BRAVE SOULS CLIMB TO SUMMITS HIGH . LORD, WE ARE RIVERS RUNNING TO THY SEA THE WIND THAT BLOWS, THAT WIND IS BEST TO HEAR THE COMFORTABLE WORDS GIVE ME THE EAR, MY GOD, TO HEAR CONSIDER THE RAVENS . god's MEEKEST ANGEL GENTLY COMES WORK AND CONTEMPLATION . MY CHILD IS LYING ON MY KNEES . OUR SHEPHERD KNOWS THE WAY , PAGE Frontispiece 17 32 43 72 85 105 118 131 150 173 GREEN PASTURES AND STILL WATERS. The path I tread seems often bare, Or it is rough to weary feet ; Yet all beside the way are fair Green fields, and waters sweet. I do but need to turn aside, And lift my heart to God, and lo ! Around me stretch the pastures wide, The peaceful waters flow. Lord, give me grace in every place To lift a trustful heart to Thee, That so my soul may walk at ease Amid Thy pastures free ; That, leaving other draughts behind — The draughts that chill, or heat, or sting — My soul may ever seek and find Thy love's unfailing spring ! IFu (3teen padtutes REST. There is a rest that deeper grows In midst of pain and strife, — A mighty, conscious, willed repose, The heart of deepest life. To have and hold the precious prize No need of jealous bars, But windows open to the skies, And skill to read the stars. Who dwelleth in that secret place ; Where tumult enters not. Is never cold with terror base. Never with anger hot. For if an evil host should dare His very heart invest, God is his deeper heart, and there He enters into rest. When mighty sea-winds madly blow, And tear the scattered waves. Peaceful as summer woods, below Lie darkling ocean caves : ^ransKflureO The wind of words may toss my heart, But what is that to me ? 'T is but a surface storm, — Thou art My deep, still, resting sea. TRANSFIGURED. How changed in an instant ! What was it ? A word, or the glance of an eye. Or a thought flashed from spirit to spirit, As the rush of the world swept by ? I cannot tell how, yet I know it — That once unto me it was given, 'Mid the noonday stir of the city. To breathe for a moment in Heaven. . . , And my soul was aware of a vision Too brief and too holy to tell ; But I saw that the world of our longing Was close to the world where we dwell. Yes, heaven has come down to meet us ; It hangs in our atmosphere ; 4 IFn (Breen pastures Its beautiful, open secret Is whispered in every ear. And everywhere, here and always, If we would but open our eyes. We should find, through these beaten foot- paths, Our way into Paradise. We should walk there with one another. Nor halting, disheartened, wait To enter a dreamed-of City By a far-off, shadowy Gate. Dull earth would be dull no longer, The clod would sparkle — a gem ; And our hands at their commonest labor, Would be building Jerusalem. For the clear cool River of Eden Flows fresh through our dusty streets ; We may feel its spray on our foreheads Amid wearisome noontide heats. flbiracle We may share in the joy of God's angels On the errands that He has given ; We may live in a world transfigured, And sweet with the air of Heaven. MIRACLE. Ah ! not in strange, portentous way Christ's miracles were wrought of old ; The common thing, the common clay. He touched and tinctured, and straightway It grew to glory manifold. The barley loaves were daily bread, Kneaded and mixed with usual skill , No care was given, no spell was said, But when the Lord had blessed, they fed The multitude upon the hill. The hemp was sown 'neath common sun. Watered by common dews and rain. Of which the fisher's nets were spun ; Nothing was prophesied or done To mark it from the other grain. 6 irn ©teen ipaetures Coarse, brawny hands let down the net When the Lord spake and ordered so ; They hauled the meshes, heavy-wet, Just as in other days, and set Their backs to labor, bending low ; But quivering, leaping from the lake. The marvellous, shining burdens rise Until the laden meshes break. And, all amazed, no man spake. But gazed with wonder in his eyes. So still, dear Lord, in every place Thou standest by the toiling folk With love and pity in Thy face, And givest of Thy help and grace To those who meekly bear the yoke. Not by strange sudden change and spell, Baffling and darkening Nature's face ; Thou takest the things we know so well. And buildest on them Thy miracle — The heavenly on the commonplace. The lives which seem so poor, so low, The hearts which are so cramped and dull. ©ne BeeJ) The baffled hopes, the impulse slow, Thou takest, touchest all, and lo ! They blossom to the beautiful. We need not wait for thunder-peal, Resounding from a mount of fire, While round our daily paths we feel Thy sweet love and Thy power to heal. Working in us Thy full desire. ONE DEED. One deed may mar a life, And one can make it ; Hold firm thy will for strife, Lest a quick blow break it ! Even now from far on viewless wing Hither speeds the nameless thing Shall put thy spirit to the test. Haply or e'er yon sinking sun Shall drop behind the purple West, All shall be lost — or won ! 8 iFn (3reen pastures GOOD IN ALL. Let me go where'er I will, I hear a sky-born music still : It sounds from all things old, It sounds from all things young, From all that 's fair, from all that 's foul, Peals out a cheerful song. It is not only in the rose. It is not only in the bird. Not only where the rainbow glows. Nor in the song of women heard, — But in the darkest, meanest things There alway, alway, something sings. 'T is not in the high stars alone, Nor in the cups of budding flowers. Nor in the redbreast's mellow tone, Nor in the bow that smiles in showers, — But in the mud and scum of things There alway, alway, something sings. WHAT RABBI JEHOSHA SAID. Rabbi Jehosha used to say That God made angels every day, Perfect as Michael and the rest First brooded in creation's nest. WLbat IRabbi Jebosba Sa(D 9 Whose only office was to cry Hosanna ! once and then to die ; Or rather, with Life's essence blent, To be led home from banishment. Rabbi Jehosha had the skill To know that Heaven is in God's will ; And doing that, though for a space One heart-beat long, may win a grace As full of grandeur and of glow As Princes of the Chariot know, 'T were glorious, no doubt, to be One of the strong-winged Hierarchy, To burn with Seraphs, or to shine With Cherubs deathlessly divine ; Yet I, perhaps — poor earthly clod — Could I forget myself in God, Could I but find my nature's clew Simply as birds and blossoms do, And but for one rapt moment know 'T is Heaven must come, not we must go, Should win my place as near the throne As the pearl-angel of its zone ; And God would listen 'mid the throng For my one breath of perfect song, That in its simple human way Said all the Host of Heaven could say. lo ifn (Breen ipastuces PROGRESS. I SEEM to halt ; but yet I know The breath of God is in the sails : Whether by zephyrs or by gales The ships of God must onward go. E'en when to rest He singeth them, He to the haven bringeth them. SEEKING. '' And where, and in what pleasant places. Have ye been, that ye come again With your laps full of flowers, and youi faces Like buds blown fresh after rain ? " *' We have been," said the children, speak- ing In their gladness, as the birds chime, All together, — " we have been seeking For the fairies of olden time. For we thought, they are only hidden ; They would never surely go From this green earth all unbidden, And the children that love them so. . . . Sceftlng ii We thought, rolled up we shall find them Among mosses old and dry ; From gossamer threads that bind them They will start like the butterfly, All winged : so we went forth seeking, Yet still they have kept unseen, i Though we think our feet have been keep- ' ing \ The track where they have been. . . . But we found," said the children, speak- ing More quickly, "so many things ! That we soon forgot we were seeking, Forgot all the fairy rings. Forgot all the stories olden That we hear round the fire at night, Of their gifts and favors golden, The sunshine was so bright ; — And the flowers ! — we found so many That it almost made us grieve To think there were some, sweet as any, That we were forced to leave As we left, by the brookside lying, The balls of drifted foam. And brought, after all our trying, These Guelder roses home." 12 l[n (Breen flpastuces Then, " Oh ! " I heard one speaking Beside me soft and low, " I have been, like the blessed children, seeking, Still seeking to and fro ; Yet not, like them, for the fairies, — T/iey might pass unmourned away For me, that had looked on angels, On angels that would not stay ; — No ! though in haste before them I spread all my heart's best cheer. And made love my banner o'er them. If I might but keep them here ! . . . But my care was not availing, I found their sweetness gone ; I saw their bright tints paling : They died ; yet I lived on ! Yet seeking, ever seeking, Like the children, I have won A guerdon all undreamt of When first my quest begun. And my thoughts come back like wan- derers, Out-wearied, to my breast : What they sought for long they found not, Yet was the unsought best. ConslDer 1It 13 For I sought not out for crosses, I did not seek for pain ; Yet I find the heart's sore losses Were the spirit's surest gain." LIFE. Forenoon and afternoon and night ; — Forenoon, And afternoon, and night ; — Forenoon, and what ? The empty song repeats itself. No more ? Yea, that is Life : make this forenoon sub- lime, This afternoon a psalm, this night a prayer, And time is conquered, and thy crown is won. CONSIDER IT. Consider it (This outer world we tread on) as a harp, — A gracious instrument on whose fair strings We learn those airs we shall be set to play When mortal hours are ended. Let the wings, Man, of thy spirit move on it as wind, 14 ITn ©reen ipastures And draw forth melody. Why shouldst thou yet Lie grovelling ? More is won than e'er was lost : Inherit. Let thy day be to thy night A teller of good tidings. Let thy praise Go up as birds go up that, when they wake, Shake off the dew and soar. So take Joy home, And make a place in thy great heart for her, And give her time to grow, and cherish her ; Then will she come, and oft will sing to thee When thou art working in the furrows ; ay. Or weeding in the sacred hour of dawn. It is a comely fashion to be glad, — Joy is the grace we say to God. REJOICE EVERMORE. " Rejoice ! " saith one, with a sigh, " Right gladly, in sooth, would I ! But discords of sorrow and strife Mar the sweet music of life. IRejotcc JEvcxmovc 15 Never so merry an air, Never so brilliant a key, But the snarl of the ' wolf ' is there. In the heart of the melody, Or sorrowful minors creep in ! For songs there are doubts and dis- may, Or moanings of anguish and sin, For harmonies, death and decay, — * Rejoice ! ' did you say ? " " Rejoice ! " a quiet voice saith, " Yea, surely ; what hindereth ? However the world may spin, There 's music my heart within. Trust, like a summer rill, Singeth the way along ; Hope hath a joyous trill, Patience an undersong ; Faith setteth the key, and Love Is the dominant, sweet and strong ; Some string doth in sweetness move. And richly to fill up the chord I rejoice in the Lord." i6 Hn ©reen pastures IN PAIN. By Thine anguish cleanse my soul, By Thy Passion make me whole ; Weak and helpless on the Tree, Thou didst gain a victory : Weak and helpless as I lie, Thou canst triumph, sin can die. Search me through, and nothing spare. Burn the sin out that is there. All that is of Thine and Thee Quicken into energy : Let Thy Love enlarge my heart, Deepen, soften every part. In the silence deep and still Bind me closer to Thy Will : Earthly friends are far away, Be Thou with me night and day : Earthly happiness I miss. Make me taste of Heaven's bliss. Teach me how to guess aright Of the wonders out of sight : Let my spirit grow more clear, Heavenly whispers let me hear : " Brave souls climb to summits high." — Page 17. 6oO's nil ©omplcte 17 Let the veil become more thin, And the glory pierce within. Make me pure, that I may be Able to be one with Thee ; And reveal Thyself, for Thou Art the thing I long for now : When the veil at last is riven, To behold Thee will be Heaven ! WHICH IS BEST ? In sheltered gardens valleys lie Of peace and rest, But brave souls climb to summits high With bleeding feet, — and which are best ? 'T is not of rest we make our boast At set of sun ; Though great, though small, we value most The care, the thought of work well done. GOD'S ALL-COMPLETE. Have I knowledge ? confounded it shrinks at Wisdom laid bare. Have I forethought ? how purblind, how blank, to the Infinite Care ! i8 iFn ©reen pastures I but open my eyes, and perfection, no more and no less, In the kind I imagine, full-fronts me ; and God is seen God In the star, in the stone, in the flesh, in the soul and the clod. And thus looking within and around me, I ever renew (With that stoop of the soul which in bend- ing upraises it too) The submission of man's nothing-perfect to God's all-complete. As by each new obeisance I climb to His feet. — What, my soul ! see thus far and no far- ther ? When doors great and small Nine-and-ninety flew ope at our touch, should the hundredth appall ? In the least things have faith, yet doubt in the greatest of all ? Do I find love so full in my nature — God's ultimate gift — That I doubt His own love can compete with it ? Here, the parts shift ? (BoO's 2llI*Complcte 19 Here, the creature surpass the Creator, — the end, what began ? Would I fain in my impotent yearning do all for this man, And dare doubt He alone shall not help him. Who yet alone can ? . . , Would I suffer for him that I love? So wouldst Thou, so wilt Thou ! So shall crown Thee the topmost, ineffa- blest, uttermost crown, And Thy love fill infinitude wholly, nor leave up nor down One spot for the creature to stand in ! It is by no breath. Turn of eye, wave of hand, that salvation joins issue with death. As Thy love is discovered almighty, al- mighty be proved Thy power, that exists with and for it, of being beloved ! He who did most shall bear most : the Strongest shall stand the most weak. 'T is the weakness in strength that I cry for, my flesh that I seek In the Godhead. I seek and I find it. O Saul, it shall be 20 ifn (Brecn fftastures A Face like my face that receives thee ; a Man like to me Thou shalt love and be loved by for ever : A Hand like this hand Shall throw open the gates of new life to thee ! See the Christ stand ! LOVE AND HATE. I AM strong In faith and hope and charity ; . . Conscious of right, nor fearing wrong, Because I am in love with Love, And the sole thing I hate is Hate ; For Hate is death ; and Love is life, A peace, a splendor from above ; And Hate, a never-ending strife, A smoke, a blackness from the abyss Where unclean spirits coil and hiss ! Love is the Holy Ghost within. And Hate the unpardonable sin ! Who preaches otherwise than this Betrays his Master with a kiss ! Zl Sermon In IRbsmc 21 A SERMON IN RHYME. If you have a friend worth loving, Love him : Yes, and let him know That you love him ere life's evening Tinge his brow with sunset glow : Why should good words ne'er be said Of a friend — till he is dead ? If you hear a song that thrills you, Sung by any child of song. Praise it : Do not let the singer Wait deserved praises long : — Why should one that thrills your heart Lack that joy you may impart? If you hear a prayer that moves you By its humble, pleading tone ; Join it : Do not let the seeker Bow before his God alone ; Why should not your brother share The strength of " two or three " in prayer ? If you see the hot tears falling From a sorrowing brother's eyes, Share them : and by loving sharing Own your kinship with the skies ; 22 fln ©reen pastures Why should any one be glad When his brother's heart is sad ? If a silvery laugh goes rippling Through the sunshine on his face, Share it : 'T is the wise man's saying — For both grief and joy a place ; There 's health and goodness in the mirth Wherein an honest laugh has birth. If your work is made more easy By a friendly helping hand, Say so : Speak out brave and truly, Ere the darkness veil the land. Should a brother workman here Falter for a word of cheer ? Scatter thus your seed of kindness, All enriching as you go ; Leave them : Trust the Harvest-giver, He will make each seed to grow. So, until life's happy end, You shall never lack a Friend. Iff ©nig 23 IF ONLY ! If only we were worthier found Of the stout ball that bears us round ! . Might one be healed from fevering thought, And only look, each night, On some plain work well wrought, Or if a man as right and true might be As a flower or a tree ! I would give all the mind In the prim city's hoard can find — House with its scrap-art bedight. Straitened manners of the street, Smooth-voiced society — If so the swiftness of the wind Might pass into my feet ; If so the sweetness of the wheat Into my soul might pass, And the clear courage of the grass, — If the lark caroled in my song, — If one tithe of the faithfulness Of the bird-mother with her brood Into my selfish heart might press, And make me instinct-good ! 24 ITu ©rcen ipastures HUNGER FOR RIGHTEOUSNESS, Father, I cry to Thee for bread, With hungered longing, eager prayer ; Thou hear'st and givest me instead Mere hunger and a half-despair. Lord ! how long ? My days decline, My youth is lapped in memories old ; 1 need not bread alone, but wine, — See, cup and hand to Thee I hold. And yet Thou givest ! thanks, O Lord, That still my heart with hunger faints ! The day will come when at Thy board I sit, forgetting all my plaints. If rain must fall and winds must blow, And I pore long o'er dim-seen chart, Yet, Lord, let not the hunger go, And keep the faintness at my heart ! LAST AND BEST. Sometimes, when rude, cold shadows run Across whatever light I see, — When all the work that I have done Or can do seems but vanity ; last aiiD :fl3est 25 I strive, nor vainly strive, to get Some little heart's-ease from the day When all the weariness and fret Shall vanish from my life away ; For I, with grandeur clothed upon. Shall lie in state and take my rest. And all my household, strangers grown, Shall hold me for an honored guest. What things will be the first to fade, And down to utter darkness sink ? The treasures that my hands have laid Where moth and rust corrupt, I think. And Love will be the last to wait And light my gloom with gracious gleams ; For Love lies nearer heaven's gate Than all imagination dreams. Aye, when my soul its mask shall drop — The twain to be no more as one, — Love with its prayers shall bear me up Beyond the lark's wings and the sun. 26 Hn Green ipastures AFTER-SONG. Through love to light ! Oh, wonderful the way That leads from darkness to the perfect day ! From darkness and from sorrow of the night To morning that comes singing o'er the sea ! Through love to light ! Through light, O God, to Thee, Who art the love of love, the eternal light of light ! CONTENT. Content to come, content to go, Content to wrestle or to race. Content to know or not to know, Each in his place. Lord, grant us grace to love Thee so That, glad of heart, and glad of face, At last we may sit high or low, Each in his place ; ©ver anJ) ©vet Bgain 27 Where pleasures flow as rivers flow, And loss has left no barren trace, And all that are, are perfect so Each in his place ! LEND A HAND. Lend a hand ! Do not think because yours is small, Or because from its fingers no riches may fall. It was meant you should render no succor at all. OVER AND OVER AGAIN. Over and over again. No matter which way I turn, I always find in the book of life Some lesson I have to learn. I must take my turn at the mill, I must grind out the golden grain, I must work at my task with a resolute will Over and over again. We cannot measure the need Of even the tiniest flower. 28 tin (5reen ipaetures Nor check the flow of the golden sands That run through a single hour ; But the morning dews must fall, And the sun and the summer rain Must do their part, and perform it all Over and over again. Over and over again The brook through the meadow flows, And over and over again The ponderous mill-wheel goes. Once doing will not suffice. Though doing be not in vain, — And a "blessing failing us once or twice May come if we try again, WORK. What are we set on earth for? Say, to toil,— Nor seek to leave thy tending of the vines For all the heat o' the day, till it declines, And Death's mild curfew shall from work assoil. God did anoint thee with His odorous oil To wrestle, not to reign ; and He assigns All thy tears over, like pure crystallines, B TlClorker 's prager 29 For younger fellow-workers of the soil To wear for amulets. So others shall Take patience, labor, to their heart and hand From thy hand and thy heart and thy brave cheer, And God's grace fructify through thee to all. The least flower, with a brimming cup, may stand And share its dew-drop with another near. A WORKER'S PRAYER. Oh ! lead me. Lord, that I may lead The wandering and the wavering feet ; Oh ! feed me, Lord, that I may feed Thy hungering ones with manna sweet. Oh ! strengthen me, that while I stand Firm on the Rock and strong in Thee, I may stretch out a loving hand To wrestlers with the troubled sea. Oh ! teach me. Lord, that I may teach The precious things Thou dost impart ; 30 ITn ©ceen pastures And wing my words, that they may reach The hidden depths of many a heart. Oh ! give thine own sweet rest to me, That I may speak with soothing power A word in season, as from Thee, To weary ones in needful hour. Oh ! fill me with Thy fulness, Lord, Until my very heart o'erflow In kindling thought and glowing word, Thy love to tell, Thy praise to show. Oh ! use me, Lord, use even me. Just as Thou wilt, and when, and where, Until Thy blessed Face I see, Thy rest, Thy joy, Thy glory share. SINGING ALL THE WAY. By meadow bank, by forest glade, A brooklet flows along ; And in the sun, and in the shade. It sings the same sweet song. A rapid here, a shallow there, A sand-bar farther on, — SinGfng all tbe "CGlaB 31 It sings and sparkles everywhere, As life and song were one. Sharp rocks and matted stalks it finds Drawn up to bar its way ; It widens, narrows, leaps, and winds, And sings its cheery lay. It smooths the stones with touches soft Repeated o'er and o'er ; It freshens many a crop and croft, And singeth evermore. It feeds a fountain's silver spray, It turns a busy mill ; And to its work as to its play Goes singing, singing still. No thirsty mouth, no drooping crest, No life so great or small. But unto each it bares its breast. And sings its song for all. And be its way or dark or bright. It sings and seeks the Sea, Reflecting every gleam of light : Lord give such grace to me ! 32 1Fn ©reen ipastures RIVERS AND SEA. Lord, we are rivers running to Thy sea, Our waves and ripples all derived from Thee: A nothing we should have, a nothing be Except for Thee. Sweet are the waters of Thy shoreless sea, Make sweet our waters that make haste to Thee; Pour in Thy sweetness, that ourselves may be Sweetness to Thee. ALMS. One smile can glorify a day, One word true hope impart ; The least disciple need not say There are no alms to give away, If love be in the heart. Xoofttng unto ©oD 33 LOOKING UNTO GOD. " Who sees God's hand in all things, and all things in God's hand." I LOOK to Thee in every need, And never look in vain ; I feel Thy touch, Eternal Love ! And all is well again : The thought of Thee is mightier far Than sin and pain and sorrows are. Discouraged in the work of life, Disheartened by its load, Shamed by its failures or its fears, I sink beside the road, — But let me only think of Thee, And then new heart springs up in me. Thy calmness bends serene above, My restlessness to still ; Around me flows Thy quickening life To nerve my faltering will ; Thy presence fills my solitude, Thy providence turns all to good. Embosomed deep in Thy dear love. Held in Thy law, I stand ; 34 Hn ©recn pastures Thy hand in all things I behold, And all things in Thy hand ; Thou leadest me by untaught ways, And turn'st my mourning into praise. COUPLETS. DOUBLE GAIN. Within the Eternal Heart I strove to lose my soul, And found myself the more, the more I found the Whole. NARROWNESS. To love mankind and not the Man with- out a peer, Is like the love of stars when the sun is shining clear. ETERNITY. Eternity's soft winds my sultry soul sweep o'er. As travellers feel sea-breezes ere they reach the shore. l^et ©nward 35 YET ONWARD. I THANK Thee, Lord, for precious things Which Thou into my life hast brought ; More gratefully my spirit sings Its thanks for all I yet have not. How fair to me Thy world has been ! How dear the friends who breathe its air ! But who can guess what waits within Thine opening realms, Thy worlds more fair? That which I had has slipped away, Lost in the abysses of the Past ; By that I lack I am to-day Heir of Thine undawned aeons vast. If Thou Thyself at once couldst give, Then wert Thou not the God Thou art : To explore Thy secret is to live, Creation's inexhaustible Heart ! . . . For veils of hope before Thee drawn, For mists that hide the immortal coast, Hid in Thy farthest, faintest dawn, — My God, for these I thank Thee most. 36 IFn ©reen ipastures Joy, Joy ! to see, from every shore Whereon my step makes pressure fond, Thy sunrise reddening still before ! More light, more love, more life beyond ! DAY BY DAY. Walking with patience where the way is rough, Resting in quiet when the storm is nigh, Knowing that Love Divine is strong enough To bear me up, as weary days go by ; Trusting that sorrow is but love's disguise, And all withholding but another way Of making richer by what love denies, — So grows the soul a little, day by day. BEGIN THE DAY. Begin the day with God ; He is thy sun and day ; He is the radiance of thy dawn, To Him address thy lay. Take thy first meal with God ; He is thy heavenly food ; Feed with and on Him ; He with thee Will feast in brotherhood. Ht :iEx'cntimc 37 Thy first transaction be With God Himself, above ; So shall thy business prosper well, And all the day be love. AT EVENTIME. To-night, my soul, be still, and sleep ; The storms are raging on God's deep — God's deep, not thine : be still and sleep. To-night, my soul, be still and sleep ; God's hands shall still the tempest's sweep — God's hands, not thine : be still and sleep. To-night, my soul, be still and sleep ; God's love is strong while night hours creep. God's love, not thine : be still and sleep. To-night, my soul, be still and sleep ; God's heaven will comfort those who weep — God's heaven — and thine : be still and sleep. 38 ITn ©reen ipastuces EXAMPLE. Whene'er a noble deed is wrought, Whene'er is spoken a noble thought, Our hearts, in glad surprise, To higher levels rise. The tidal wave of deeper souls Into our inmost being rolls, And lifts us unawares Out of all meaner cares. Honor to those whose words or deeds Thus help us in our daily needs And by their overflow Raise us from what is low ! COMMON MERCIES. Dear Lord, are we ever so thankful, As thankful we should be to Thee, For Thine angels sent down to defend us From dangers our eyes never see ? — From perils that lurk unsuspected. The powers of earth and of air. The while we are heaven-protected, And guarded from evil and snare ? Common ifllbcrcles 39 Are we grateful, as grateful we should be, For commonplace days of delight, When safe we fare forth to our labor, And safe we fare homeward at night ; For the weeks in which nothing has hap- pened Save commonplace toiling and play, When we 've worked at the tasks of the household, And peace hushed the house day by day ? Dear Lord, that the terror at midnight — The weird of the wind and the flame — Hath passed by our dwelling, we praise Thee, We lift up our hearts in Thy Name ! That the circle of darlings unbroken Yet gathers in bliss round our board. That commonplace love is our portion, We give Thee our praises, O Lord ! Forgive us who live by Thy bounty, That often our lives are so bare Of the garlands of praise we should render, All votive and fragrant Avith prayer ? Dear Lord, in the sharpness and trouble We cry from the depth to Thy throne, — 40 Hn (Sreen ipastures In the long days of gladness and beauty, Take Thou the glad hearts as Thine own. Oh, common are sunshine and flowers. And common are rain-drop and dew, And the gay little footsteps of children. And common the love that holds true : So, Lord, for our commonplace mercies, That straight from Thy hand are be- stowed, We are fain to lift up our thanksgiving, — Take, Lord, the long debt we have owed. SOUL-TUNING. Since I am coming to that holy room. Where with the choir of saints f orevermore I shall be made Thy music ; as I come I tune the instrument here at the door. And what I must do then, think here before. Wen, IT Ijave a OooDlg Iberitafie 41 YEA, I HAVE A GOODLY HERI- TAGE. My vineyard that is mine I have to keep, Pruning for fruit the pleasant twigs and leaves : Tend thou thy cornfield : one day thou shalt reap In joy thy ripened sheaves. Or, if thine be an orchard, graft and prop Food-bearing trees each watered in its place ; Or if a garden, let it yield for crop Sweet herbs and herb of grace. " But if my lot be sand where nothing grows ? " — Nay, who hath said it ? Tune a thank- ful psalm : For, though thy desert bloom not as the rose. It yet can rear thy palm. [Macmlllan, Copyright, 1896.] 42 ITn (Sreen fiastures RESURGAM. The fool asks, " With what flesh ? in joy or pain ? Helped or unhelped ? And lonely, or again Surrounded by our earthly friends ? " I know not ; and I glory that I do Not know ; that for Eternity's great ends God counted me as worthy of such trust That I need not be told. I hold That if it be Less than enough for any soul to know Itself immortal, immortality In all its boundless spaces will not find A place designed So small, so low, That to a fitting home such soul can go. Out to the earthward brink Of that great tideless sea Light from Christ's garments streams ; Cowards who fear to tread such beams The angels can but pity when they sink. Believing thus, I joy although I lie in dust : ^•5 o ., 3 o " En IDogage " 43 I joy, not that I ask or choose, But simply that I must. I love and fear not : and I cannot lose One instant this great certainty of peace. Long as God ceases not, I cannot cease : I must arise. "EN VOYAGE." Whichever way the wind doth blow, Some heart is glad to have it so ; Then blow it east or blow it west, The wind that blows, that wind is best. My little craft sails not alone : A thousand fleets from every zone Are out upon a thousand seas : What blows for one a favoring breeze Might dash another with the shock Of doom upon a hidden rock. And so I do not dare to pray For winds to waft me on my way ; But leave it to a Higher Will To stay or speed me — trusting still 44 IFn (5rcen ipasturcs That all is well, and sure that He Who launched my bark will sail with me Through storm and calm, and will not fail, Whatever breezes may prevail, To land me — every peril past — Within the sheltered haven at last. Then whatsoever wind doth blow, My heart is glad to have it so : And blow it east, or blow it west, The wind that blows, that wind is best. TO FIGHT ALOUD. To fight aloud is very brave, But gallanter, I know. Who charge within the bosom The cavalry of woe, — Who win, and nations do not see, Who fall, and none observe. Whose dying eyes no country Regards with patriot love. We trust, in plumed procession, For such the angels go, Rank after rank, with even feet. And uniforms of snow. **flbB ^imes are in XLb^ "fcanD '* 45 " MY TIMES ARE IN THY HAND." I NEED not care If days to come be dark or fair, If the sweet summer bring delight, Or bitter winter chill the air. No thought of mine Can penetrate the deep design That forms afar, through buds and bloom, The purple clusters of the vine. I do not know The subtle secret of the snow. That hides away the violets Till April teaches them to blow. Enough for me Their tender loveliness to see. Assured that little things and large Fulfil God's purpose equally. How this is planned. Or that, I may not understand ; I am content, my God, to know. That all my times are in Thy hand. 46 tin ©reen pastures Whatever share Of loss, or loneliness, or care, Falls to my lot, it cannot be More than Thy will for me to bear. And none the less. Whatever sweet thing comes to bless And gladden me, Thou art its source,— The sender of my happiness. Add this to me. With other gracious gifts so free, That I may never turn my face In any evil hour from Thee; Nor on the sand Of shifting faith and feeling stand ; But wake and sleep with equal trust, Knowing my times are in Thy hand. IN PART. The winter cometh, whence ? The winter goeth, whither ? Lord, Thou didst send it hither, ■ffn ipart 47 And Thou wilt call it hence : Why need we seek to know How winters come and go, Since Thou art Daily Providence ! So holden is our sight, That things to us the nearest, And hearts to us the dearest, We cannot read aright : Our whole is but a part. The Perfect mocks our art ; Our bright proves dark, our darkness bright. Enough for us to know That to Thy larger seeing These broken curves of being (So dim to us below !) In perfect circles shine, In rounded spheres combine. That in harmonious orbits go. Enough that Thou dost see The end in the beginning. The fabric in the spinning, 48 IFn (5reen ipastures In scattered drops the sea ! So may we trust at last, Earth's fragments overpast, Parts of Thy perfect Whole to be. UNCHANGING. The lightning and thunder. They go and they come ; But the stars and the stillness Are always at home. NATURE'S RENEWING. Beneath the drifted snow she keeps Her children safe from harm ; Each folded germ securely sleeps In silence sweet and warm. And when the laughing wind shall break The bonds of winter's might, Then from their sleep the flowers shall wake To seek the pleasant light. The Spring-time ever comes. O soul ! Though loosed the silver cord, 11 Xas Ulsc 2)own to Sleep 49 And shattered is the golden bowl, And on the trampled sward The pitcher at the fountain lies Beside the broken wheel, O'er thee shall bend the kindly skies, And balmy breaths unseal Death's frosty silence with a kiss Light as an angel's wing ; And thou shalt wake 'mid tides of bliss To hear God's angels sing. I LAY ME DOWN TO SLEEP. I LAY me down to sleep. With little care Whether my waking find Me here or there. A bowing, burdened head That only asks for rest, Unquestioning, upon A loving breast. My good right hand forgets Its cunning now ; 50 irn ©reen pastures To march the weary march I know not how. I am not eager, bold, Nor strong, — all that is past ; I am ready not to do At last, at last. My half-day's work is done, And this is all my part, — I give a patient God My patient heart. And grasp His banner still, Though all the blue be dim ; These stripes as well as stars Lead after Him, THE MASTER'S TOUCH. In the still air the music lies unheard ; In the rough marble beauty lies unseen ; To make the music and the beauty needs The Master's touch, the sculptor's chisel keen. Care G;bou tor /iRe 51 Great Master, touch us with Thy skilful hand, Let not the music that is in us die ; Great Sculptor, hew and polish us, nor let, Hidden and lost, Thy form within us lie! Spare not the stroke ; do with us as Thou wilt ; Let there be nought unfinished, broken, marred ; Complete Thy purpose, that we may be- come Thy perfect image, O our God and Lord ! CARE THOU FOR ME. Care Thou for me ! let me not care ! Too weak am I, dear Lord, to bear The heavy burdens of the day ; And oft I walk with craven feet Upon life's rough and toilsome way ;- How sweet to feel, how passing sweet. Thy watchful presence everywhere ! Care Thou for me ! let me not care ! 52 IFn (5rcen pastures Care Thou for me ! why should I care, And looks of gloomy sadness wear, And fret because I cannot see (Thy wisdom doth ordain it so) The path Thou hast marked out for me ? My Father's plan is best, I know, It will be light, sometime — somewhere, — Care Thou for me ! Why should I care ? Care Thou for me ! let me not care ! This, each new day, shall be my prayer : Thou who canst read mine inmost heart Dost know I am exceeding frail ; Both just and merciful Thou art, Whose loving kindness ne'er shall fail ; My human nature Thou wilt spare, — Care thou for me ! I will not care ! THY WILL. O Lord, fulfil Thy will. Be the days few or many, good or ill : Prolong them, to suffice For offering up ourselves. Thy sacrifice ; Cbe Hbun at tbc (5ate 53 Shorten them if Thou wilt, To make in righteousness an end of guilt. 1 Yea, they will not be long To souls who learn to sing a patient song. Yea, short they will not be To souls on tiptoe to fly home to Thee. O Lord, fulfil Thy will : Make Thy will ours, and keep us patient still, Be the days few or many, good or ill. THE MAN AT THE GATE. " I am willing, with all my heart," said He. — TAe PilgriirCs Progress. In summer and winter, in calm and storm, When the morning dawns, when the night falls lite, We may catch, if we will, the steadfast form Of the Man that watches beside the Gate. 54 ITn ©rcen ipastures In the early spring, when the voice was heard Of the singing birds in their sweet de- files, When the face of the earth once more was stirred By the flowers that came and went like smiles, I saw the stars of the morning wait On their lofty towers to watch the land, As a little child stole up to the Gate, And knocked with a tiny, trembling hand : " I am only a little child, dear Lord, And already my feet are stained with sin. But they said you had sent the children word To come to the Gate and enter in." The Man at the Gate looked up and smiled — A heavenly smile and fair to see, Zhc IfTsnn at tbe <5ate 55 And He opened and bent to the pleading child, — " I am willing, with all My heart," said He. It was afternoon, and the sun was low. And the troubled winds sobbed long and loud. As an old man tottered across the snow Which wrapped the earth in a bitter shroud : He knocked with a withered, trembling hand : " I can but perish at last," he said, " For the cruel night comes fast on the land, And the morning will find me cold and dead. " O Thou that watchest beside the Gate, Had I come to Thee in days gone by Thou hadst received me ; but now too late, I lay me down on Thy threshold to die. 56 Hn Oreen ipastures " I have fought and finished an evil fight, I have earned the deadly wages of sin ; It is hard to die in the snow to-night, But no man is willing to take me in," The sun was low in the changing West, The shadows were heavy from hill and tree, As the Watchman opened the Gate of rest, — " I am willing, with all My heart," said He. " O, gentle Watchman ! turn Thee now To rest awhile in the House of God ; Forget the heavy burdens which bow The weary of heart in our sad abode : " Be it far from Thee to watch all night For the children of sorrow, and sin, and shame ; In the heavenly places the lamps are bright, And the saints are rising to sing Thy name." Cbe flban at tbe ©ate 57 But the Watchman turned and looked on me Till I bent my head adown to weep : " Suffer me then to watch with Thee Alone to-night while the nations sleep ! " So I watched with Him through the moon- less hours Of that sweetest night I have ever known, And His words were as dew on the tender flowers, And all in the darkness the true Light shone. We heard the gentle steps of the snow Coming down from its home at God's right hand, As the angels came softly, long ago, To the fragrant hills of the Holy Land. And at midnight there came the voice of one Who had crept to the Gate through the blinding snow, And who moaned at the Gate as one un- done Might moan at the sight of the last dread Woe. 58 ITn (Stccn pastures A woman's voice, and it rose and fell On the muffled wings of the snowy night, With a trembling touch that seemed to tell Of one who was chilled and spent out- right. " I wove the crown for the Brow divine, I pierced the Hand that was stretched to save, I dare not pray that the moon may shine To show me the prints of the nails I drave ; " I beat this night on my sinful breast, I dare not pray Him to succor me "... But the Watchman opened the Gate of rest, — " I am willing, with all my heart," said He. Thus day and night they are pressing nigh, With tears and sighs, to the Heavenly Gate, XLbc Xfgbt tbat is jfelt 59 Where the Watchman stands in His maj- esty, With a patience that never has said, " Too late." Let the sorrowful children of want and sin Draw near to the Gate whence none de- part ; Let the nations arise and enter in, For the Lord is willing, with all His heart. THE LIGHT THAT IS FELT. A TENDER child of summcrs three, Seeking her little bed at night. Paused on the dark stair timidly : " Oh, mother, take my hand," said she, " And then the dark will all be light," We older children grope our way From dark behind to dark before, And only when our hands we lay, Dear Lord, in Thine, the night is day, And there is darkness nevermore. 6o iFn ©rcen ipastures Reach downward to the sunless days, Wherein our guides are blind as we, And faith is small and hope delays ; Take Thou the hands of prayer we raise, And let us feel the light of Thee. LIKE THE LARK. Like the lark, like the lark Cleaving the heavenly arc. On quivering wings rejoicing, A vision of sunrise, voicing And flinging his message o'er open and cloud Till the very winds sing aloud, In the spell of his rapture caught : — So uprises my thought. The song of the lark must end, And the singer descend. Weary at last in his flight, The paean hushed and the sweet throat dumb, Sorrowful, shorn of delight, He must sink — sink — sink and alight ; Back to earth he must come. Bnsel9 6i But my thought, but my thought Abideth, returning not. For oh ! through the ether rare It hath soared and trembled and drifted — Drifted all unaware Through the shining gates uplifted, And hath found its harbor there : For my thought is a prayer. ANGELS. In the old days God sent His angels oft To men in threshing-floors, to women pressed With daily tasks ; they came to tent and croft, And whispered words of blessing and of rest. Not mine to guess what shapes those angels wore, Nor tell what voice they spoke, nor with what grace They brought the dear love down that evermore Makes lowliest souls its best abiding place. 62 Hn <3reen ipaeturee But in these days I know my angels well ; They brush my garments on the common way, They take my hand and very softly tell Some bit of comfort for my weary day. And though their angel-names I do not ken, Though in their faces human love I read, They are God-given to this world of men, God-sent to bless it in its hour of need. Child, mother, wife, brave hearts that take The rough and bitter cross, and help us bear Its heavy weight when strength is like to break, — God bless you all, our angels unaware ! HOPE EVERMORE AND BELIEVE. Hope evermore and believe, O man, for e'en as thy thought So are the things that thou see'st — e'en as thy hope and belief. Ibope :6vermore anO JBeUerc 63 Cowardly art thou and timid ? they rise to provoke thee against them ; Hast thou courage ? enough, see them exulting to yield. . . . Go from the east to the west, as the sun and the stars direct thee ; Go with the girdle of man, go and en- compass the earth : Not for the gain of the gold, for the get- ting, the hoarding, the having, But for the joy of the deed, but for the Duty to do. Go with the spiritual life, the higher voli- tion and action. With the great girdle of God, go and encompass the earth. Go : say not in thy heart : And what then, were it accomplished, Were the wild impulse allayed, what were the use and the good ? Go : when the instinct is stilled, and when the deed is accomplished, What thou hast done and shalt do, shall be declared to thee then. 64 Ifn (3reen pastures Go with the sun and the stars, and yet evermore in thy spirit Say to thyself : It is good : yet there is better than it. This that I see is not all, and this that I do is but little, — Nevertheless it is good, though there is better than it. [Macmt'Uan, Copyright, 1895.] BETTER THINGS. Better to love in loneliness Than bask in love all day ; Better the fountain in the heart Than the fountain by the way. Better to sit at a master's feet Than thrill a listening state ; Better suspect that thou art proud Than be sure that thou art great. Better to walk the realm unseen Than watch the hour's event ; Better the Well-done at the last Than the air with shoutings rent. Bacb an& Bll 65 Better to have a quiet grief Than a hurrying delight ; Better the twilight of the dawn Than the noonday burning bright. Better a death when work is done Than earth's most favored birth ; Better a child in God's great house Than the king of all the earth. EACH AND ALL. Little thinks, in the field, yon red-cloaked clown Of thee from the hill-top looking down ; The heifer that lows in the upland farm, Far-heard, lows not thine ear to charm ; The sexton, tolling his bell at noon. Deems not that the great Napoleon Stops his horse, and lists with delight, Whilst his files sweep round yon Alpine height ; Nor knowest thou what argument Thy life to thy neighbor's creed has lent. All are needed by each one ; Nothing is fair or good alone. 66 lFn (Breen ipasturea NEEDLESS FEARS. We dwell with fears on either hand, Within a daily strife, And spectral problems waiting stand Before the gates of life. The doubts we vainly seek to solve, The truths we know, are one ; The known and nameless stars revolve Around the Central Sun. And if we reap as we have sown, And take the dole we deal, The law of pain is love alone. The wounding is to heal. Unharmed from change to change we glide, Unharmed as in our dreams ; The far-off terror, at our side, A smiling angel seems. Secure on God's all tender heart Alike rest great and small : Why fear to lose our little part When He is pledged for all ? a ^bousanD l^ears 67 START AND GOAL. What is the beginning ? Love. What the course ? Love still. What the goal ? The goal is Love on the happy hill. Is there nothing then but Love, search we sky or earth ? There is nothing out of Love hath per- petual worth : All things flag but only Love, all things fail or flee ; There is nothing left but Love worthy you and me. A THOUSAND YEARS. A RICH man dies — so runs the eastern tale, — And as he wakes the farther side of death, "Where wilt thou go?" an angel ques- tioneth, Putting aside the darkness like a veil. " And may I choose ? Why, that is won- drous kind ! 68 ifn (Breen pastures I thought " — he turned as from a subtle snare : " Content am I in any place, if there Good dinners, music, pictures, I can find." Straight was he ushered in a palace filled With all things fair to earthy taste and sight : The walls were thick with pictures jewel- bright, And music through the sheeny hangings thrilled. The richest food was served on golden plate : The choicest wine in jewelled goblets gleamed : In fancy's wildest hour he had not dreamed Of such abounding luxury and state. Months — years — went on. By each was something reft From pleasure's earlier charm, till came an hour B a:bou0an2) l^ears 69 When concord, color, dainties, lost all power To please. Satiety alone was left. Anon the angel, passing, paused to say : " What ! tired so soon ? " " So soon ! " the man outcried, " Thou dost but mock me in thine angel- pride ; I have been here a thousand years to-day ! " And in a thousand years who would not tire Of all these things ! " The angel spake again More gravely sweet : " Thou sayest well : Amen. And now, what next doth waken thy de- sire ? " I would " — he paused, then added, wary- eyed : " First, to prevent mistakes, I pray thee tell 70 irn ©recti {pastures What place is this ? " The angel an- swered : " Hell." The man stared round on all the sumptu- ous pride And luxury and beauty of the place : " If this be Hell " — he took a humbler tone, — " I am not fit to enter there, I own, But might I look on Heaven some small, brief space ? " The angel took him to a lofty height Where he could look at ease. His ravished eyes Fastened upon the scene with swift sur- prise, Nor turned to see his guide had vanished quite. His gaze, entranced, now lingered here, now there, Now roved in breathless haste from side to side ; And ever seemed the view to grow more wide, And ever seemed the view to be more fair. fffs'e Iprager 71 He gazed and gazed, the most from sight to win. "Art weary yet?" — The angel waited nigh. " Disturb me not so soon ! " came swift reply In pleading tones ; — " to look I scarce begin. " Leave me a little while, and go thy way." Answered the angel with a fine, slow smile : " ' So soon,' sayst thou, and yet ' a little while ' ? Thou hast been here a thousand years to- day." MY PRAYER. An ear Quick to hear Eternal melody ; An eye quick to see All beauty, Christ, in Thee ; A mouth Seasoned with charity. Softer than soft wind of the South ; — Grant these, O Lord, to me ! 72 f n <5rcen pastures COMFORTED. I, even I, am He that comforteth you. — Isa. li., 12. Sweet is the solace of Thy love, My heavenly Friend, to me. While through the hidden way of faith I journey home with Thee, Learning by quiet thankfulness As a dear child to be. Though from the shadow of Thy peace My feet would often stray, Thy mercy follows all my steps, And will not turn away ; Yea, Thou wilt comfort me at last As none beneath Thee may. Oft in a dark and lonely place I hush my hastened breath, To hear the comfortable words Thy loving Spirit saith. And feel my safety in Thy hand From every kind of death. Oh, there is nothing in the world To weigh against Thy will ; ■ Oft in a dark and lonely place I hush my hastened breath, To hear the comfortable words Thy loving Spirit saith." — Page 72. ^be ffod 73 Even the dark times I dread the most Thy covenant fulfil ; And when the pleasant morning dawns I find Thee with me still. Then, in the secret of my soul, Though hosts my peace invade. Though through a waste and weary land My lonely way be made, Thou, even Thou, wilt comfort me — I need not be afraid. Still in the solitary place I would awhile abide, Till with the solace of Thy love My soul is satisfied. And all my hopes of happiness Stay calmly at Thy side. THE FOIL. God hath made stars the foil To set off virtues ; griefs to set off sinning. Yet in this wretched world we toil, As if grief were not foul, nor virtue winning! 74 1in ©reeii f^etmce WHAT THOU WILT. Do what thou wilt ! yes, only do What seemeth good to Thee : Thou art so loving, wise, and true, It must be best for me. Send what Thou wilt, or beating shower, Soft dew, or brilliant sun ; Alike, in still or stormy hour, My Lord, Thy will be done. Teach what Thou wilt ; and make me learn Each lesson full and sweet. And deeper things of God discern While sitting at Thy feet. Say what Thou wilt ; and let each word My quick obedience win ; Let loyalty and love be stirred To deeper glow within. Give what Thou wilt ; for then I know I shall be rich indeed : My King rejoices to bestow Supply for every need. ZTbe Cbroniclee of "fcope 75 Take what Thou wilt, beloved Lord, For I have all in Thee ! My own exceeding great reward, Thou, Thou Thyself shalt be ! THE CHRONICLES OF HOPE. I WOULD not chronicle my life By dynasties of joy or pain, By reigns of peace, or times of strife. By accidents of loss and gain : The hopes that, nurtured in my breast, Have been as very wings to me, On which existence floats and rests, — These only shall my eras be. With equal love I love them all For their own special sakes, nor care What sequence here and there might fall, Each has its sweet memorial share : Let but my hopes, in coming years. Preserve their long, unbroken line, And smiles will shine through any tears. And grief itself be half-divine. 76 f n (3ccen pastures For not to man on earth is given The ripe fulfilment of desire ; — Desire of Heaven itself is Heaven, Unless the passion faint and tire : So upward still, from hope to hope, From faith to faith, the soul ascends ; And who has scaled the eternal cope, Where that sublime accession ends ? IN THE DARK. Lord, if there be, as wise men spake. No death but only fear of death. And when Thy temple seems to shake, 'Tis but the shaking of our breath, — Whether by day or night we see Clouds where Thy winds have driven none. Let unto us as unto Thee The darkness and the light be one ! SUBSTANCE. Each fearful storm that o'er us rolls, Each path of peril trod, Is but a means whereby our souls Acquaint themselves with God. flbutation. 77 Our want and weakness, shame and sin, His pitying kindness prove ; And all our lives are folded in The mystery of His love. His sun is shining sure and vast O'er all our nights of dread ; Our darkness by His light at last Shall be interpreted. MUTATION. They talk of short-lived pleasures, — be it so ! Pain dies as quickly : stern, hard-feat- ured pain Expires, and lets her weary prisoner go. The fiercest agonies have shortest reign, And, after dreams of horror, comes again The welcome morning with its rays of peace. Oblivion, softly wiping out the stain, Makes the strong secret pangs of shame to cease : Remorse is virtue's root ; its fair increase Are fruits of innocence and blessedness : 78 irn (Srecn ipastures Thus joy, o'erborne and bound, doth still release His young limbs from the chains that round him press. Weep not that the world changes — did it keep A stable, changless state, 't were cause in- deed to weep. OUR LAMPS. Thou one all-perfect Light ! Our lamps are lit at Thine, And into darkness as of night We go to prove they shine. HIS COMPASSIONS FAIL NOT." The rain may fall in constant showers. The south-wind tarry on its way, But through the night and through the day Advance the summer's fragrant hours. ♦* Ibis Compassions 3f ail IRot " 79 And though the north-wind force him back, The song-bird hurries from the South, With summer's music in his mouth, And studs with song his airy track. What then, my soul, if thou must know Thy days of darkness, gloom and cold, If joy its ruddy beams withhold, And grief compels my tears to flow ? As tarry not the flowers of June For all the ill the heavens can do. And, to their inmost natures true, The birds rejoice in sweetest tune ; So, Father, shall it be with me ; And whether winds blow foul or fair. Through want and woe, and toil and care. Still will I struggle up to Thee, That, though my winter days be long, And brighter skies refuse to come. My life no less may sweetly bloom, And none the less be full of song. 8o f n ©reen fiaetures STRIVE, WAIT, AND PRAY. Strive : yet I do not promise The prize you dream of to-day Will not fade when you think to grasp it, And melt in your hand away ; But another and holier treasure — You would now perchance disdain — Will come when your toil is over, And pay you for all your pain. Wait : yet I do not tell you The hour that you long for now Will not come with its radiance vanished, And a shadow on its brow ; Yet far through the misty future, With a crown of starry light, An hour of joy that you know not Is winging her silent flight. Pray : though the gift you ask for May never comfort your fears, May never repay your pleading — Yet pray, and with hopeful tears ; An answer — not that you long for, But diviner — will come one day ; Your eyes are too dim to see it ; Yet strive, and wait, and pray ! Sweetnesses 8i RECIPROCATION. Because Thy love hath sought me, All mine is Thine and Thine is mine ; Because Thy blood hath bought me, I will not be mine own, but Thine. I lift my heart to Thy Heart — Thy Heart, sole resting-place for mine ; Shall Thy Heart crave for my heart. And shall not mine crave back for Thine ? SWEETNESSES. Sweet, so sweet, it is to know, All my life for me is planned ! Not by chance my roses blow, Falls my rain or drifts my snow, Each is measured by Thy hand. Sweet, so sweet, it is to see All that 's best of earth is mine ; As the blossom for the bee, Earth's wide beauty is for me, Yielding honey pure and fine. 82 iTn Orecn ipastures Sweeter still it is to trust, When these present joys are past — Turned to dream or turned to dust, As all earthly pleasures must, — Better things are kept for last. Sweeter sweetnesses remain For the soul that trusts in Thee, — Stars that rise but never wane, Joys that fade not into pain, Light that makes all mysteries plain. Love that loveth endlessly. THE SOWER. A Sower went forth to sow ; His eyes were dark with woe ; He crushed the flowers beneath his feet. Nor smelt the perfume, warm and sweet, That prayed for pity everywhere. He came to a field that was harried By iron, and to heaven laid bare ; He shook the seed that he carried O'er that brown and bladeless place. XLbe Sower 83 He shook it, as God shakes hail Over a doomed land, When lightnings interlace The sky and the earth, and His wand Of love is a thunder-flail. Thus did that Sower sow ; His seed was human blood, And tears of women and men. And I, who near him stood, Said : When the crop comes, then There will be sobbing and sighing. Weeping and wailing and crying, Flame, and ashes, and woe. II. It was an autumn day When next I went that way. And what, think you, did I see ? What was it that I heard ? What music was in the air ? — The song of a sweet- voiced bird ? Nay — but the songs of many. Thrilled through with praise and prayer. Of all those voices not any Were sad of memory ; 84 ITn (3reen ffitasturcs But a sea of sunlight flowed, A golden harvest glowed, And I said : Thou only art wise, God of the earth and skies ! And I praise Thee, again and again, For the Sower whose name is Pain. WORSHIP. ' ' Pure religion and undefiled, before God and the Father, is this : to visit the widows and fatherless in their affliction, and to keep himself unspotted from the world." O BROTHER man ! fold to thy heart thy brother ; Where pity dwells, the peace of God is there ; To worship rightly is to love each other — Each smile a hymn, each kindly deed a prayer. Follow with reverent steps the great ex- ample Of Him whose holy work was "doing good"; " Give me the ear, my God, to hear The songs the angels sing me ! " — Page 85. Spiritual Senses 85 So shall the wide earth seem our Father's temple, Each loving life a psalm of gratitude. A CANTICLE OF TIME. Slowly the hours Gather to years ; They deal with our tears — That grief be not vain — Gently as flowers Deal with the rain. Slowly the hours Gather to years, Sowing with roses The graves of our fears, Lo ! the dark crosses Of torture's completeness Mistily fade into Symbols of sweetness, And behold it is evening. SPIRITUAL SENSES. Give me the ear, my God, to hear The songs the angels sing me ! Give me the eyes that shall descry With joy the joys they bring me ! 86 Hn (5reen ipasturcs To my poor heart the power impart To know that Thou art near me, And let love listen to the Christ Who longs with love to cheer me. Oh, for the ear that, hearkening In stillness rapt and holy. Misses no undertone of song Howe'er so soft and lowly, — The ear that notes the mystic psalms The mystic choirs are singing, — God louder in His silences Than clouds their thunder flinging O, for the eye that out beyond The stars spies others gleaming, That scans the Unbeheld as real. The Seen as only seeming ; The eye that earthly blindness helps To spiritual seeing, And deep within the inmost finds The richer, fuller being ! %OVC 87 LOVE. Love bade me welcome ; yet my soul drew back, Guilty of dust and sin : But quick-eyed Love, observing me grow slack From my first entrance m, Drew nearer to me, sweetly questioning. If I lacked anything. " A guest," I answered, " worthy to be here." Love said, "You shall be he." " I, the unkind, ungrateful ? Ah, my dear, I cannot look on Thee," Love took my hand, and smiling, did reply : "Who made the eyes but I ?" " Truth, Lord, but I have marred them : let my shame Go where it doth deserve." "And know you not," says Love, "Who bore the blame ? " " My dear, then will I serve." "You must sit down," says Love, "and taste my meat." So I did sit and eat. 88 f n (Breen pastures OPPOSITION. Of fret, of dark, of thorn, of chill, Complain no more ; for these, O heart, Direct the random of the will As rhymes direct the rage of art. The lute's fixt fret, that runs athwart The strain and purpose of the string, For governance and nice consort Doth bar his wilful wavering. The dark hath many dear avails, The dark distils divinest dews ; The dark is rich with nightingales, With dream, and with the heavenly Muse. What grace may lie within the chill Of favor frozen fast in scorn ! When Good's a-freeze, we call it 111 ! This rosy time is glacier-born. Of fret, of dark, of thorn, of chill, Complain thou not, O heart ; for these Bank in the current of the will To uses, arts, and charities. ^anna Sg MANNA. The times of old bright pictures bring ; We give them little heed : — That clamoring host, that small, white thing, Like coriander seed. Found, though they never saw it fall, When the dew left the land. Are precious types to us, to all. Of God's sustaining hand ; — Are types of faith in Christ above That day by day returns. Hangs on the fulness of His love, Receives, but ever yearns, — Of grace that feeds our inward part, Renewed, but still the same, — The small thing leavening all the heart. We saw not whence it came. They sought each morn their measure sweet, The food their Lord had given ; — Come we each day to Jesus' feet. And find the Bread of Heaven, go Hn (3ceen pastures GIVING. To Give is better than to Know or See : And both are means, and neither is the end : Knowing and Seeing, if none call thee friend, Beauty and knowledge have done nought for thee. For who gives, giving, doth winback his gift: And knowledge by division grows to more : Who hides the Master's talent shall die poor, And starve at last of his own thankless thrift. I did this for another ; and, behold ! My work hath blood in it ; but thine hath none : Done for thyself, it dies in being done : To what thou buyest thou thyself art sold. Give thyself utterly away. Be lost. Choose someone, something : not thy- self, thine own : Zbc Celestial Surgeon 91 Thou canst not perish ; but, thrice greater grown — Thy gain the greater where thy loss was most — Thou in another shalt thyself new-find : The single globule, lost in the wide sea. Becomes an ocean. Each identity Is greatest in the greatness of its kind. Who serves for gain — a slave — by thank- less pelf Is paid : who gives himself is priceless, free. I gave myself, a man, to God : lo ! He Renders me back, a saint, unto myself. THE CELESTIAL SURGEON. If I have faltered more or less In my great task of happiness ; If I have moved among my race And shown no glorious morning-face ; If beams from happy human eyes Have moved me not ; if morning skies, Books, and my food, and summer rain, Knocked on my sullen heart in vain ; 92 ITn ©reen pastures Lord, Thy most pointed pleasure take, And stab my spirit broad awake ! Or, Lord, if too obdurate I, Choose Thou, before that spirit die, A piercing pain, a killing sin, And to my dead heart run them in ! SENSITIVENESS. Time was, I shrank from what was right From fear of what was wrong ; I would not brave the sacred fight Because the foe was strong. But now I cast that finer sense And sorer shame aside ; Such dread of sin was indolence. Such aim at Heaven was pride. So, when my Saviour calls, I rise And calmly do my best ; Leaving to Him, with silent eyes Of hope and fear, the rest. I step, I mount where He has led, — Men count my haltings o'er, — I know them, yet, though self I dread, I love His precept more. B (Brateful Ijeart 93 A GRATEFUL HEART. Last night I stole away alone, to find A mellow crescent setting o'er the sea, And lingered in its light while over me Blew fitfully the grieving autumn wind. And somewhat sadly to myself I said : " Summer is gone ! " and watched how bright and fast Through the moon's track the little waves sped past, — " Summer is gone ! her golden days are dead." Regretfully I thought : " Since I have trod Earth's ways with willing or reluctant feet. Never did season bring me days more sweet, Crowned with rare joys and precious gifts from God. "And they are gone : they will return no more." The slender moon went down, all red and still ; 94 irn (Brecn ipastures The stars shone clear, the silent dews fell chill ; The waves with ceaseless murmur washed the shore. A low voice spake : " And wherefore art thou sad ? Here in thy heart all summer folded lies, And smiles in sunshine though the sweet time dies : 'T is thine to keep forever fresh and glad ! " Yea, gentle voice, though the fair days depart, And skies grow cold above the restless sea, God's gifts are measureless, and there shall be Eternal summer in the grateful heart. WAIT. Joy, what art thou ? tell me, Though I know thee well. " Wait awhile," said Sorrow, "Wait, and /will tell." Zbc %ovc of ©oO gs Life, what art thou ? tell me, Though I draw thy breath. "Wait, and /will answer, Wait awhile," said Death. THE LOVE OF GOD. Thou Grace Divine, encircling all, A soundless, shoreless sea ! Wherein our souls at last must fall, O Love of God most free ! When over dizzy heights we go, One soft hand blinds our eyes ; The other leads us safe and slow, O Love of God most wise ! And though we turn us from Thy face, And wander wide and long, Thou hold'st us still in Thine embrace, O Love of God most strong ! The saddened heart, the restless soul. The toihvorn frame and mind, Alike confess Thy sweet control, O Love of God most kind ! 96 iTn (5recn pastures But not alone Thy care we claim, Our wayward steps to win ; We know Thee by a dearer name, O Love of God within ! And filled and quickened by Thy breath, Our souls are strong and free To rise o'er sin and fear and death, O Love of God, to Thee ! WHAT SHALL IT PROFIT? If I lay waste and wither up with doubt The blessed fields of heaven where once my faith Possessed itself serenely safe from death ; If I deny the things past finding out ; Or if I orphan my own soul of One That seemed a Father, and make void the place Within me where He dwelt in power and grace, What do I gain by that I have undone ? flbB fftelO 97 MY FIELD. I WILL not wrong thee, O To-day, With idle longing for To-morrow, But patient plough my field, and sow The seed of faith in every furrow. Enough for me the rosy light That melts the cloud's repellent edges. The still unfolding, bud by bud, Of God's most sweet and holy pledges. I breathe His breath ; my life is His ; The hand He nerves knows no defraud- ing ; The Lord will make this joyless waste Wave with the wheat of His rewarding. Of His rewarding ! Yes ; and yet Not mine a single blade nor kernel ; The seed is His, the quickening His, The care unchanging and eternal. His, too, the harvest-song shall be, When He who blest the barren furrow Shall thrust His shining sickle in, And reap my little field To-morrow. 98 1fn ©recti ipaetures TO ALL WHO CLIMB. Not only those above us on the height With love and reverence I greet ; Not only those who walk in paths of light With glad, untiring feet ; These, too, I reverence, toiling up the slope. And resting not upon their rugged way. Who plant their feet on faith and cling to hope. And climb as best they may. And even these I praise — who, being weak. Were led by folly into deep disgrace — Now striving on a pathway rough and bleak To gain a higher place : For wisely have they done and passing well To choose what seemed a dim and dreary way, And upward from the choking depths of hell To climb as best they may. O struggling souls ! be brave and full of cheer, Nor let your holy purpose swerve or break ; "mot as If mm" 99 The way grows smoother and the light more clear With every step you take. Lo ! in the upward path God's boundless love Supports you evermore upon your way ; You cannot fail to reach the heights above, Who climb as best you may ! " NOT AS I WILL." Blindfolded and alone I stand With unknown thresholds on each hand ; The darkness deepens as I grope, Afraid to fear, afraid to hope : Yet this one thing I learn to know Each day more surely as I go, — That doors are opened, ways are made, Burdens are lifted or are laid, By some great law unseen and still, Unfathomed purpose to fulfil — " Not as I will." Blindfolded and alone I wait ; Loss seems too bitter, gain too late ; 1 loo ifn (Brecn ipastures Too heavy burdens in the load, And too few helpers on the road ; And joy is weak, and grief is strong, And years and days so long — so long ! Yet this one thing I learn to know Each day more surely as I go, — That I am glad the good and ill By changeless law are ordered still, " Not as I will." " Not as I will : " the sound grows sweet Each time my lips the words repeat. " Not as I will : " the darkness feels More safe than light when this thought steals Like whispered voice to calm and bless All unrest and all loneliness, " Not as I will," because the One Who loved us first and best has gone Before us on the road, and still For us must all His love fulfil — " Not as we will." B Song bg tbe IKIlag loi SELF-EXAMINATION. By all means use sometimes to be alone : Salute thyself ; see what thy soul doth wear. Dare to look into thy chest, for 't is thine own, And tumble up and down what thou find'st there. Who cannot rest till he good fellows find, He breaks up house, turns out of doors his mind. A SONG BY THE WAY. Be the sky blue or be the sky gray, The evil is always enough for the day ; And, be it unthought-of or understood, As is the evil, so is the good. Be the heart heavy or be the heart light, It is better to walk by faith than sight. Be the path easy, or never so hard. Infinite Love is the guide and guard : I02 iFn 0rcen ipasturcs And be the path sunny, or dark and dim, Sweet is the way if it lead to Him. The pilgrims, be we or high or low, Never again on this path we go : And wear we garments or rich or poor. At last we enter the same low door. Swift be the journey, or long and slow, Endeth it there or ere we know : And be the Afterward dark or bright, We pass forever from mortal sight. Draughts by the way, be they bitter or sweet, Little it matters, for both are fleet : But blessed is he, when that door is past, Who findeth the best wine kept for last. SNOW-BLOOM. Where does the snow go. So white on the ground ? Under May's azure No flake can be found. ConstDci tbc IRavens 103 Look into the lily Some sweet summer hour ; There blooms the snow In the heart of the flower. Where does the love go, Frozen to grief ? Along the heart's fibres Its cold thrill is brief. The snow-fall of sorrow Turns not to dry dust ; It lives in white blossoms Of patience and trust. CONSIDER THE RAVENS. Lord, according to Thy words, I have considered Thy birds ; And I find their life good, And better the better understood : Sowing neither corn nor wheat. They have all that they can eat ; Reaping no more than they sow, They have all that they can stow ; Having neither barn nor store, Hungry again, they eat no more. 104 "ffn (Sreen ipastuces Considering, I see, too, that they Have a busy life, and plenty of play ; In the earth they dig their bills deep. And work well though they do not heap ; Then, to play in the air they are not loath. And their nests between are better than both. But this is when there blow no storms. When berries are plenty in winter, and worms ; When their feathers are thick, and oil is enough To keep the cold out and the rain off : If there should come a hard frost. Then it looks as Thy birds were lost. But I consider further, and I find A hungry bird has a free mind ; He is hungry to-day, not to-morrow ; Steals no comfort, no grief doth borrow ; This moment is his, Thy will hath said it, The next is nothing till Thou hast made it. The bird has pain, but has no fear. Which is the worst of any gear ; " It Cometh therefore to this, Lord, I have considered Thy word. And henceforth will be Thy bird."— /Vz^fi' 105. (lonsiOec tbe IRavens 105 When cold and hungerand harm betide him, He gathers them not to stuff inside him ; Content with the day's ill he has got, He waits just, nor haggles with his lot ; Neither jumbles God's will With driblets from his own still. But next I see, in my endeavor, Thy birds here do not live forever ; That cold or hunger, sickness or age, Finishes their earthly stage ; The rook drops without a stroke. And never gives another croak ; Birds lie here and birds lie there, With little feathers all astare ; And in Thy own sermon, Thou That the sparrow falls dost allow. It shall not cause me any alarm. For neither so comes the bird to harm, Seeing our Father, Thou hast said, Is by the sparrow's dying bed ; Therefore it is a blessed place. And the sparrow in high grace. It cometh therefore to this, Lord, I have considered Thy word, And henceforth will be Thy bird. io6 iTn (5reen pastures A PRAYER. I ASK not that for me the plan Of good or ill be set aside, But that the common lot of man Be nobly borne and glorified. And that, though it be mine to know How hard the stoniest pillow seems, Good angels still may come and go About the places of my dreams. AWEARY. Lord, many times I am aweary quite Of mine own self, my sin, my vanity, — Yet be not Thou, or I am lost outright, . Weary of me ! And hate against myself I often bear. And enter with myself in fierce debate : Take Thou my part against myself, nor share In that just hate ! XLwo THUaBtarecs 107 Best friends might loathe us, if what things perverse We know of our own selves they also knew : Lord, Holy One, if Thou who knowest worse Shouldst loathe us too ! TWO WAYFARERS. One with a sudden cry Crieth : " O Lord ! and whence is this to me, That in my daily pathway I should see Even Thee, my Lord, coming nigh With Thy still face and fair. And the divine deep sorrow in Thine eyes. And Thy eternal arms stretched loving- wise, As on the Cross they were ? " If I had only known How I should meet Thee this day face to face, I had made all my life a praying-place For this hour's sake alone : io8 irn ©reen pastures Now am I poor indeed : I who have gathered all things most for- lorn, — Pale earthly loves, and roses wan with thorn, — See how my weak hands bleed ! " ONE bendeth low, and saith : " Lo, My hands bleed likewise, and I am God: Come, heart of Mine ! wilt tread the path I trod, The desert way of death ? Come, bleeding hands, and take My thorns that bring new toil and weariness. Days of gray pain and nights of sore distress, Come, for My great love's sake ! " Yet if thou fearest to come. Speak ! I can give thee fairest earthly things — Love, and sweet peace in shelter of love's wings. By pleasant paths of home, — And thou wilt still be Mine. Choose thou thy path ! My way is dark, I know. Zvoo "wnasfacers rog Yet through the moaning wind, and rain and snow, My feet should go with thine." One groweth wan and gray ; Dieth a space the trembling heart in him ; Then he doth lift his weary eyes and dim, With ashen lips doth say : " With Thee the desert sands ! How could I turn from Thee, Thou Flower of Pain ! Or trouble Thee with weepings loud and vain, And wringing of the hands ? " If the rose were my share, And Thine the thorn, how could I lift mine eyes One day in gold-green fields of Paradise, To Thine eyes dreamy fair That muse on Calvary ? Under the sad straight brows Thy gaze would say : " Now, heart ! in what dark hour of night or day Hast thou kept watch with Me ? " no iTn (5reen ipastures THY LIGHT. Lord, send Thy light Not only in the darkest night, But in the shadowy, dim twilight, Wherein my strained and aching sight Can scarce distinguish wrong from right- Then send Thy light ! Teach me to pray Not only in the morning gray, Or when the moonbeam's silver ray Falls on me — but at high noonday, When pleasure beckons me away, Teach me to pray ! THE WORTH OF HOURS. Believe not that your inner eye Can ever in just measure try The worth of Hours as they go by. For every man's weak self, alas ! Makes him to see times while they pass As in a dim or tinted glass : ITbe TKHortb of "toours m But if in earnest care you would Mete out to each its power of good, Trust rather to your after-mood. Those surely are not fairly spent That leave your spirit bound and bent In sad unrest and ill-content : And more, — though, free from seeming harm. You rest from toil of mind or arm, Or slow retire from Pleasure's charm, — If then a painful sense comes on Of something wholly lost and gone, Vainly enjoyed or vainly done, — Of something from your being's chain Broke off, nor to be linked again By all mere Memory can retain, — Upon your heart this truth may rise : Nothing that altogether dies Suffices man's just destinies : So should we live, that every hour May die as dies the natural flower, A self-renewing thing of power ; 112 Hn 0reen pastures That every thought and every deed May hold within itself the seed Of future good and future meed ; Esteeming Sorrow, whose employ Is to develop, not destroy, Far better than a barren Joy. KINDLINESS. Be useful where thou livest, that they may Both want and wish thy pleasing pres- ence still : Kindness, good parts, great places, are the way To compass this : Find out men's wants and will, And meet them there. All wordly joys go less To the one joy of doing kindnesses. HARSH JUDGMENTS. O God! whose thoughts are brightest light, Whose love runs always clear. To whose kind wisdom sinning souls Amidst their sins are dear ! — ■fcarsb JuDgemcnts 113 Sweeten my bitter-thoughted heart With charity like Thine, Till self shall be the only spot On earth that does not shine. . . . Time was, when I believed that wrong In others to detect Was part of genius, and a gift To cherish, not reject. Now, better taught by Thee, O Lord, This truth dawns on my mind, — The best effect of heavenly light Is earth's false eyes to blind. . , , I need Thy mercy for my sin ; But more than this I need, — Thy mercy's likeness in my soul, For others' sin to bleed. 'T is not enough to weep my sins ; 'T is but one step to heaven ; When I am kind to others, then I know myself forgiven. Would that my soul might be a world Of golden ether bright. 114 ITn (Brecn B^a6ture0 A heaven where other souls might float, Like all Thy worlds, in light ! All bitterness is from ourselves, All sweetness is from Thee : Sweet God ! for evermore be Thou Fountain and fire in me ! ITS COST. O DEAR Lord ! we know what death is worth : Thou diedst in woe and pain upon the Cross ; Out of Thy death man's freedom had its birth, And for his gain Thou gavest all Thy loss. MY GOODS. My all I carry with me everywhere : The presence of the Lord on land and sea. The love of dear ones close enfolding me. — ©pen trbB tbeart 115 My patrimony, these : and, blest, I bear For pictures, eyes to which the world is fair ; For book, the nearest thing, whate'er it be ; For gold, the mind that scorns its sov- ereignty ; For bed of ease, a soul God-freed from care. For work, I have the task that near me lies ; For tools, I have my hands, my tongue, my brain ; For comrades in my toil, the trees, the skies ; And wide Eternity is my domain ! I '11 not exchange the very least of these For all the wealth in all the lands and seas. OPEN THY HEART. Admit into thy silent breast The notes of but one bird, And instantly thy soul will join In jubilant accord. ii6 Hn Green pastures The perfume of a single flower Inhale like breath of God, And in the garden of thy heart A thousand buds will nod. Toward one star in heaven's expanse Direct thy spirit's flight, And thou wilt have in the wide world, My child, enough delight. FATE ?— GOD. Inaudible voices call us, and we go ; Invisible hands restrain us, and we stay ; Forces unfelt by our dull senses sway Our wavering wills, and hedge us in the way We call our own, because we do not know. We creep reluctant through Pain's dark- ened room To greet Life's dearest joy the other side ; We linger, laughing, where the ways di- vide, Saying, *' So choose I," while we front, blind-eyed, longing u? Danger's red signal, yea, black, imminent doom ! We knock impatient on To-morrow's door, Behind which Sorrow sits, nor evermore Shall anything be as it was before, Nor sweet To-day's unheeded rose re- bloom. Are we, then, slaves of ignorant circum- stance ? Nay, God forbid ! We have the heav- enly Guide, The Lamp of Life, the Way both sure and tried ; If we but walk therein, nor stray out- side, God holds the world, not blind, unreason- ing Chance. LONGING. I LONG for joy, O Lord ; I long for Thee ; I long for all Thou profferest to me ; I long for the unimagined manifold Abundance laid up in Thy treasury. ii8 irn 6reen ipastures I long for pearls, but not from mundane sea ; I long for palms, but not from earthly mould : — Yet in all else I long for, long for Thee, Thyself to hear and worship and be- hold,— For Thee, beyond the splendor of that day Where all is day and is not any night, — For Thee, beyond refreshment of that rest To which tired saints press on for its delight : Or if not thus for Thee, yet Thee I pray To make me long so till Thou make me blest. THE ANGEL OF PATIENCE. To weary hearts, to mourning homes, God's meekest Angel gently comes ; No power has he to banish pain, Or give us back our lost again ; And yet in tenderest love our dear And Heavenly Father sends him here. "To weary hearts, to mourning homes, God's meekest Angel gently comes." — Page ii8. B ITbankBgivtng 119 There 's quiet in that Angel's glance, There 's rest in his still countenance, He mocks no grief with idle cheer, Nor wounds with words the mourner's ear; Hut ills and woes he cannot cure He kindly trains us to endure. Angel of Patience ! sent to calm Our feverish brows with cooling palm, To lay the storms of hope and fear. And reconcile life's smile and tear, The throbs of wounded pride to still. And make our own our Father's will ! O thou who mournest on thy way, With longings for the close of day ! — He walks with thee, that Angel kind, And gently whispers, *' Be resigned ; Bear up, bear on, the end shall tell The dear Lord ordereth all things well ! " A THANKSGIVING. Lord, for the erring thought Not into evil wrought ; Lord, for the wicked will, Betrayed and baffled still ; Iln ©reen ipastures For the heart from itself kept, Our thanksgiving accept ! For ignorant hopes that were Broken to our blind prayer ; For pain, death, sorrow sent Unto our chastisement, — For all loss of seeming good, Quicken our gratitude ! GRADATIM. Heaven is not reached by a single bound : We build the ladder by which we rise From the lowly earth to the vaulted skies, And we mount to its summit round by round, I count this thing to be grandly true. That a noble deed is a step toward God, Lifting the soul from the common sod To a purer air and a broader view. Cbe Maftlng "fceart 121 We rise by the things that are under our feet, By what we have mastered of good and gain, By the pride deposed and the passion slain. And the vanquished ills that we hourly meet. "MANY MEMBERS." Selfish good may not befall Any man, or great or small : Best for one is best for all. THE WAKING HEART. I AM weary with toil and with ache. And I sleep, for the night-time is long. And the great sea of darkness doth break On the world with a low slumber-song ; But my heart yieldeth not to the spell : — As its life-tide upheaveth my breast, So its love-tide unebbing doth swell With a longing that knoweth not rest. 122 •ffn ©ceen ipastures I sleep, but my heart is awake : Through the shimmering veil of my dreams Come the murmur of rushes and brake, The sighing of wandering streams, The whisper of leaves that are stirred By the touch of the breeze's soft wing, The note of a brown, brooding bird — But where is the voice of my King ! I sleep, but my heart is awake To catch the first sound of His tread. Ere the night's folded shadows shall break Into dawn-roses golden and red ; To rise ere He comes to the door, And wide open ere He can call, And kneel in awed rapture before My Saviour, my King, and my All. I sleep, but my heart is awake : O dreams, be ye sombre or bright, What soul at your terrors would quake, Or yet in your brightness delight — So quickly your mists will give place, So silently break and retreat. At the sight of His glorious face, At the sound of His beauteous feet ! 15ou Q;bree 123 I sleep, but my heart is awake : Come quickly, O Saviour and King ! Thy coming my morning will make, Thy smile is the day's shining spring. At morning, at evening, at noon. Thee, sleeping or waking, I wait ; Thou can'st not come ever too soon, Thou wilt not come ever too late. YOU THREE. I TALKED with you to-day, all three (Two of you lurked unseen) — Yourself, the boy you used to be, And the man you might have been. You said that hope to dead leaves turned, That love was but a gleam. Ambition soon to ashes burned, Joy was a fleeting dream. You never knew that silently They smiled at you unseen, — The ardent boy you used to be. And the man you might have been. 124 irn (Breen ipastures YOUR FAULT. No fate, save by the victim's fault, is low. For God hath writ all dooms magnificent, So guilt not traverses His tender will. THE HARDEST TIME OF ALL. There are days of silent sorrow In the seasons of our life ; There are wild, despairing moments, There are hours of mental strife ; There are times of mental anguish, When the tears refuse to fall. But the waiting time, my brothers, Is the hardest time of all. We can bear the heat of conflict. Though the sudden, crushing blow, Beating back our gathered forces, For a moment lay us low ; We may rise again beneath it. None the weaker for the fall ; But the waiting time, my brothers, Is the hardest time of all. trbe Ibiiman Crg 125 For it wears the eager spirit As the salt waves wear the stone, And the garb of hope grows threadbare Till the brightest tints are flown ; Then, amid youth's radiant tresses. Silent snows begin to fall ; Oh ! the waiting time, my brothers, Is the hardest time of all. But at last we learn the lesson That God knoweth what is best ; And with wisdom cometh patience, And with patience cometh rest. Yea, a golden thread is shining Through the tangled web of fate ; And our hearts shall thank Him meekly That He taught us how to wait. THE HUMAN CRY. We feel we are nothing — for all is Thou and in Thee ; We feel we are something — that also has come from Thee : We know we are nothing — but thou wilt help us to be : Hallowed be Thy name — Hallelujah ! 126 ifn ©reen pastures NOVEMBER AND APRIL. The dead leaves their mosaics Of olive and gold and brown Had laid on the rain-wet pavement, Through all the embowered town. They were washed by the autumn tem- pest ; They were trod by hurrying feet ; And the maids came out with their be- soms And swept them into the street, To be crushed and lost forever, 'Neath the wheels, in the black mire, lost, — The summer's precious darlings. Nourished at such a cost. O words that have fallen from me ! O golden thoughts and true ! Must I see in the leaves a symbol Of the fate that awaiteth you ? Again has come the spring-time, With the crocus's golden bloom. Commonplace 127 And the smell of the fresh-turned mould, And the violet's perfume. O gardener, tell the secret Of these hues and odors sweet ! — " I have only brought to my garden The black mire from the street," COMMONPLACE. " A COMMONPLACE life," we say, and we sigh ; But why should we sigh as we say ? The commonplace sun in the common- place sky Makes up the commonplace day. The moon and the stars are commonplace things. And the flower that blooms, and the bird that sings. But dark were the world and sad were our lot If the flowers had failed and the sun shone not ; And God, who studies each separate soul, Out of commonplace things makes His beautiful whole. 128 Hn ©reen pastures ART VOGLER. \A.fter he has been extemporizing upon the musical instrument of his invention^ Well, it is gone at last, the palace of music I reared ; Gone ! and the good tears start, the praises that come too slow ; For one is assured at first — one scarce can say that he feared, That he even gave it a thought — the gone thing was to go. Never to be again ! — " But many more of the kind As good, nay better, perchance," — is this your comfort to me ? To me, who must be saved because I cling with my mind To the same, same self, same love, same God : ay, what was, shall be. Therefore to whom turn I but to Thee, the ineffable Name ? Builder and Maker, Thou, of houses not made with hands ! Brt THoglec 129 What, have fear of change from Thee who art ever the same ? Doubt that Thy power can fill the heart that Thy power expands ? There shall never be one lost good : What was shall live as before ; The evil is null, is naught, is silence im- plying sound ; What was good shall be good, with for evil so much good more ; On the earth the broken arcs ; in the heaven a perfect round. All we have willed or hoped or dreamed of good shall exist, — Not its semblance, but itself ; — no beauty, nor good, nor power Whose voice has gone forth, but each sur- vives for the melodist When eternity affirms the conception of an hour. The high that proved too high, the heroic for earth too hard, The passion that left the ground to lose itself in the sky, 130 "ffn ©reeu ipastures Are music sent up to God by the lover and the bard : Enough that He heard it once : we shall hear it by-and-by. And what is our failure here but a tri- umph's evidence For the fulness of the days ? Have we withered or agonized ? — Why else was the pause prolonged but that singing might issue thence ? Why rushed the discords in but that harmony should be prized ? Sorrow is hard to bear, and doubt is slow to clear, Each sufferer says his say, his scheme of the weal and woe ; But God has a few of us whom He whis- pers in the ear ; The rest may reason and welcome : 't is we musicians know. Work and Contemplation. — Page 131. Mork anJ) Contemplation 131 WORLDLY PLACE. Even in a palace life may be led well ! Even in a palace ! On his truth sincere, Who spoke these words, no shadow ever came ; And when my ill-schooled spirit is aflame Some nobler, ampler stage of life to win, I '11 stop, and say : " There were no succor here ! The aids to noble life are all within." WORK AND CONTEMPLATION. The woman singeth at her spinning-wheel A pleasant chant, ballad, or barcarole ; She thinketh of her song, upon the whole, More than of her flax ; and yet the reel Is full, and artfully her fingers feel With quick adjustment, provident control. The lines, too subtly twisted to unroll. Out to a perfect thread. I hence appeal To the dear Christian Church — that we may do 132 lln <5recn ipastures Our Father's business in these temples mirk, Thus swift and steadfast, thus intent and strong ; While thus, apart from toil, our souls pur- sue Some high, calm, spheric tune, and prove our work The better for the sweetness of our song. SONGS OF PRAISE. In a dry old mow that was once, alas ! A living glory of waving grass, A cricket made merry one winter's day. And answered me this in a wondrous way When I cried half-sharply : " Thou poor old thing ! How canst thou sit in the dark and sing When for all thy pleasure of youth thou starvest ? " — " I 'm the voice of praise that came in with the harvest." I went away in the silent wood. And down in a deep, brown solitude, •fflot Conclusion 133 Where nothing blossomed and nothing stirred, Uprose the note of a little bird. " Why caroUest thou in the death of the year, Where nobody travelleth by to hear ? " — " I sing to God, though there be no comer, Praise for the past and the promise of summer." I stopped by a brook that, overglassed With icy sheathing, seemed prisoned fast ; Yet there whispered in a continual song From the life underneath that urged along : " O blind little brook, what canst thou know Whither thou runnest ? why chantest so ? " " I don't know what I may find or be, But I 'm praising for this — I am going to see ! " NOT CONCLUSION. This world is not conclusion ; A sequel stands beyond. Invisible as music, But positive as sound. 134 fln ©reen I>a6tures It beckons and it baffles ; Philosophers don't know ; And through a riddle at the last Sagacity must go. To prove it puzzles scholars : To gain it, men have worn Contempt of generations, And crucifixion borne. GOD KNOWS. Who knows ? God knows ; and what He knows Is well and best. The darkness hideth not from Him, but glows Clear as the morning or the evening rose Of east or west. Wherefore man's strength is to sit still : Not wasting care To antedate to-morrow's good or ill ; Yet watching meekly, watching with good will. Watching to prayer. ^nttbew, W1I1I., 9 135 Some rising or some setting ray- Fro m east or west, If not to-day, why, then another day, Will light each dove upon the homeward way Safe to her nest, MATTHEW, VII., 9. The homely words, how often read ! How seldom fully known ! Which father of you, asked for bread, Would give his child a stone ? Hov/ oft hath bitter tears been shed, And heaved how many a groan, Because Thou wouldst not give for bread The thing that was a stone ! How oft the child Thou wouldst have fed Thy gift away has thrown ! He prayed : Thou heardst and gav'st the bread ; He cried : It is a stone ! Lord, if I ask in doubt and dread Lest I be left to moan, I am the man who, asked for bread, Would give his son a stone. 136 ITn <5reen pastures MY ENEMY. I HAVE an enemy. And shall he be A useless thorn to vex and weary me ? A dominant discord in life's perfect strain, Marring my dreams, turning my joy to pain, Molding my life to his malicious whim ? Shall he be lord of me, or I of him ? A bitter stream may turn the mill-wheel round ; A thorny tree may burn to heat and light ; And out of shameful wrong may spring the flower Of perfect right. Because my enemy hath eyes that watch With sleepless malice while I come and go, My days shall own no act I would not wish The world to know. Because my enemy doth hourly wield Some subtle snare to trip me every day, %ovc's Sacrifice 137 My feet shall never for one moment leave The straight and narrow way. Because my enemy doth hate me sore, I fix my gaze beyond him and above, And lift as shield to all his fiery darts A heart of love. And of my enemy I thus shall make A beacon-light to light me to my goal, A faithful guardian of my house of life, A spur and whip to urge my laggard soul ; And though our strife may never have an end, I yet might call this enemy my friend. LOVE'S SACRIFICE. Gethsemane Denied our Lord all human sympathy ; And deepest grief Is that we bear alone for others' sake, Smiling the while lest loving hearts should break For our relief. 138 f n (Sreeu ipastuces O Hearts that faint Beneath your burden great, but make no plaint, Lift up your eyes ! Somewhere beyond, the life you give is found ; Somewhere, we know, by God's own hand is crowned Love's sacrifice. IN QUIET WAYS. God scatters love on every side Freely among His children all, And always hearts are lying open wide, Wherein some grains may fall. There is no wind but soweth seeds Of a more true and open life. Which burst unlooked-for into high-souled deeds. With wayside beauty rife. . Within the hearts of all men lie These promises of wider bliss, Which blossom into hopes that cannot die. In sunny hours like this. . . . •fflone ®tber 139 Nor is he far astray, who deems That every hope, which rises and grows broad In the world's heart, by ordered impulse streams From the great heart of God. NONE OTHER. None other Lamb, none other Name, None other Hope in heaven or earth or sea. None other Hiding-place from guilt and shame. None beside Thee. My faith burns low, my hope burns low, Only my heart's desire cries out in me ; By the deep thunder of its want and woe, Cries out to Thee. Lord, Thou art Life, though I be dead ; Love's fire Thou art however cold I be ; Nor heaven have I, nor place to lay my head. Nor home, but Thee. 140 Ifn (Breen pastures THE SONG OF THE WATCHERS. Thy watchmen shall lift up the voice . . together shall they sing. — Isa. lii., 8. The watch is long, the watch is late, But yet it is not lonely, For we who for His coming wait Think of His brightness only. We feel a gladness through the gloom, A silvern peace upspringing ; We watch as by an empty tomb, And stay our souls with singing. We sing sweet songs of hope and cheer That voice the faith of ages, The songs of souls that knew not fear. Of martyrs, prophets, sages : — We talk of all His wondrous love, We tell His wondrous story — The wonder-works and words that prove Him Lord of Life and glory. From time to time His loving voice Calls out our best and dearest ; We weep, and yet would fain rejoice, Knowing He then comes nearest. Zbc Song of tbe TKHatcbers 141 They pass into the silent glooms, We see no more their faces ; Full soon His gentle peace illumes And fills the vacant places. The watch is long, the watch is late, But hope grows strong and stronger, — A little longer yet to wait — Only a little longer — And all this night shall turn to day. And all this dark to splendor. And joy, grown richer by delay, Make full and fair surrender. The hills around Jerusalem vStand dusky, lonely, pining, — We think how beautiful on them His feet will soon be shining ! The Sun of Righteousness will rise With wings of balmy healing. With cheer for hearts and light for eyes That wait for His revealing. For He ! — but here the song grows faint, To sweeter silence fleeing ; What mortal strain hath power to paint The beauty of His being ? 142 Ifn (5recn ipastures And if our hearts so melt and thrill With raptures of prevision, What unimagined sweets shall fill The cup of full fruition ! The watch is long, the watch is late, Yet night is ever growing Into the morn irradiate With light of His rich sowing ; And happy they who first behold Upon the mountains hoary The lifting of His banner's gold, The breaking of His glory. Yea, happy whom the Lord of Light Doth find awake and singing, — Afar to pilgrims of the night Their cheering voices flinging ! For them His morning grows apace To day that endeth never ; His feast is spread, His love is shed, For ever and for ever. Zbc "Mew Jerusalem 143 COMPENSATION. The graves grow thicker, and life's ways more bare, As years on years go by ; — Nay, thou hast more green gardens in thy care, And more stars in thy sky. Behind, hopes turned to griefs, and joys to memories. Are fading out of sight ; — Before, pains changed to peace, and dreams to certainties Are glowing in God's light. Hither come backslidings, defeats, dis- tresses. Vexing this mortal strife ; — Thither go progress, victories, successes. Crowning immortal life ! THE NEW JERUSALEM. O WONDROUS-FAIR Jerusalem, Shall I thy gates pass through ? Thy jubilations surely join, Thy lordly splendors view ? 144 "ffn (Breen ff)astures O Crucified, O Glorified, Shall I Thy face behold, And join the ransomed as they sing Along the streets of gold ? A dream ! The City of the Christ And that of Love are one ; For each the fairest is and best The sons of God have known ; They are the one broad sovereignty, They have the one high throne, And Christ ne'er is where Love rules not, From furthest zone to zone. Love is a city, walled and towered. With bulwarks builded high. On every foe they rise to frown^ And foolish passer-by ; Full pearly-gated, too, is she, — Three gates on every side. Which for the worn and weary hearts Stand ever open wide. Her streets are of pure gold, as though Transparent glass one sees ; ^be IRcw Jerusalem 145 Her ways are ways of pleasantness, And all her paths are peace : And in Love's city is no curse, No shadows darken there, The Lamb, the light thereof, doth make All lustrous everywhere. The clear Life-River through her midst In grateful fulness flows. Upon whose banks the Tree of Life With healing leafage grows ; Nor hunger there, nor pain of thirst. Love casteth out all fears, And God most gently wipes away The traces of our tears. O Wondrous New Jerusalem, From heaven thou art come down ! On earth thy firm foundations are. Here weareth Christ His crown : Here for the symbols of His reign We rightful search begin ; O loveliest Christ, O Christliest Love, Thy kingdom is within ! 146 ITn ©reen pastures UNDYING LIGHT. O THOU the Lord and Maker of life and light ! Full heavy are the burdens that do weigh Our spirits earthward, as through twilight gray We journey to the end and rest of night ; Though well we know to the deep inward sight Darkness is but Thy shadow, and the day Where Thou art never dies, but sends its ray Through the wide universe with restless might. O Lord of Light, steep Thou our souls in Thee ! That, when the daylight trembles into shade, And falls into the silence of mortality, And all is done, we shall not be afraid, But pass from light to light, from earth's dull gleam Into the very heart and heaven of our dream. Zbc ^bougbt of (BoD 147 THE THOUGHT OF GOD. The thought of God, the thought of Thee Who liest in my heart, And yet beyond imagined space Outstretched and present art, — The thought of Thee, above, below, Around me and within, Is more to me than health and wealth, Or love of kith and kin. The thought of God is like the tree Beneath whose shade I lie. And watch the fleets of snowy clouds Sail o'er the silent sky. 'T is like that soft invading light Which all in darkness shines, — The thread that through life's sombre web In golden pattern twines. It is a thought which ever makes Life's sweetest smiles from tears, And is a daybreak to our hopes, A sunset to our fears. 148 fln (5reen pastures One while it bids the tears to flow, Then wipes them from the eyes, Most often fills our souls with joy, And always sanctifies. Within a thought so great our souls Little and modest grow ; And, by its vastness awed, we learn The art of walking slow. The wild flower on the mossy ground Scarce bends its pliant form. When overhead the autumnal wood Is thundering in a storm. So is it with our humbled souls Down in the thought of God, — Scarce conscious in their sober peace Of the wild storm abroad. To think of Thee is almost prayer, And is outspoken praise ; And pain can even passive thoughts To actual worship raise. O Lord ! I live always in pain, My life's sad undersong, — Pain in itself not hard to bear, But hard to bear so long. ^ruBt 149 Little sometimes weighs more than much, When it has no relief ; A joyless life is worse to bear Than one of actual grief. And yet, O Lord, a suffering life One grand ascent may dare ; Penance, not self-imposed, can make The whole of life a prayer. All murmurs lie inside Thy Will Which are to Thee addressed ; To suffer for Thee is our work, To think of Thee our rest. MY PLEA. Lord, I cannot plead my love of Thee ! 1 plead Thy love of me : The shallow conduit hails the unfathomed sea. TRUST. Father of Spirits ! Thine all secrets be ; I bless Thee for the light Thou hast revealed, And that Thou hidest. Part of me I see. And part of me Thy wisdom hath concealed ISO tfn ©reen pastures Till the new life divulge it. Lord, imbue me With will to work in this diurnal sphere, Knowing myself my life's day laborer here, Where evening brings the day's work's wages to me. I work my work : All its results are Thine. I know the loyal deed becomes a fact Which Thou wilt deal with ; nor will I repine Although I miss the value of the act. Thou carest for Thy creatures ; and the end Thou seest. The world unto Thy hands I leave ; And to Thy hands my life. I will not grieve Because I know not all Thou dost intend. THE FATHER'S HYMN FOR THE MOTHER TO SING. My child is lying on my knees ; The signs of heaven she reads ; My face is all the heaven she sees, Is all the heaven she needs. " My child is lying on my knees." — Page 150. ^be jfatbei- 's "fcBmn 151 And she is well — yea, bathed in bliss — If heaven is in my face ,* Behind it is all tenderness And truthfulness and grace. I mean her well so earnestly, Unchanged in changing mood ; My life would go without a sigh To bring her something good. I also am a child ; and I Am ignorant and weak ; I gaze upon the starry sky. And then I must not speak ; For all behind the starry sky, Behind the world so broad, Behind men's hearts and souls doth lie The Infinite of God. If true to her, though troubled sore, I cannot choose but be, Thou, who art peace for evermore. Art very true to me. If I am low and sinful, bring More love where need is rife ; Thou knowest what an awful thing It is to be a life. 152 ITn ©reen pastures Hast thou not wisdom to enwrap My waywardness about In doubting safety on the lap Of Love that knows no doubt ? Lo, Lord ! I sit in Thy wide space, My child upon my knee ; She looketh up into my face, And I look up to Thee ! LIGHT AND SHADE. Thou hast done well to kneel and say " Since He who gave can take away, And bid me suffer, I obey." And also well to tell thy heart That good lies in the bitterest part. And thou wilt profit by her smart. But bitter hours come to all, When even truths like these will pall, Sick hearts for humbler comfort call. Then I would have thee strive to see That good and evil come to thee As one of a great family. ILigbt anD SbaDe 153 And as material life is planned, That even the loneliest one must stand Dependent on his brother's hand, — So links more subtle and more fine Bind every other soul to thine In one great brotherhood divine. Nor with thy share of work be vexed ; Though incomplete, and e'en perplexed, It fits exactly to the next. . . . Fail — yet rejoice ; because no less The failure that makes thy distress May teach another full success. It may be that in some great need Thy life's poor fragments are decreed To help build up a lofty deed. Thy heart should throb in vast content, Thus knowing that it was but meant As chord in one great instrument ; That even the discord in thy soul May make completer music roll From out the great harmonious whole. 154 ITn (Breen ff>a6ture0 It may be that, when all is light, Deep set within that deep delight Will be to know why all was right, — To hear life's perfect music rise, And, while it floods the happy skies, Thy feeble voice to recognize. Then strive more gladly to fulfil Thy little part. This darkness still Is light to every loving will. WHEN TO PRAY. Ah, when the infinite burden of life de- scendeth upon us, Crushes to earth our hope, and under the earth in the graveyard, — Then it is good to pray unto God, for His sorrowing children Turns He ne'er from His door, but He heals and helps and consoles them. Yet is it better to pray when all things are prosperous with us, Pray in fortunate days, for life's most beautiful Fortune 36en IRarsbook's MisDom 155 Kneels down before the Eternal's throne, and with hands interfolded. Praises, thankful and moved, the only Giver of blessings. THE SPIRIT'S GROWTH. Dust as we are, the immortal spirit grows Like harmony in music ; there is a dark Inscrutable workmanship that reconciles Discordant elements, makes them cling together In one society. How strange that all The terrors, pains, and early miseries. Regrets, vexations, lassitudes interfused Within my mind, should e'er have borne a part, And that a needful part, in making up The calm existence that is mine when I Am worthy of myself. Praise to the end ! Thanks to the means ! BEN KARSHOOK'S WISDOM. ** Would a man 'scape the rod ?" Rabbi Ben Karshook saith, " See that he turn to God The day before his death." 156 IFn ©reen pastures " Ay, could a man inquire When it shall come, I say." The Rabbi's eye shoots fire — " Then let him turn to-day." IF. It may seem a noble thing That you have to do, — To strengthen the hands of a king, The fire to pass through ; — But if done with a courage blind, And a selfish motive — mind. It is not noble in you. It may seem a little thing That you have to do — A cup of water to bring, Or loosen a shoe, — But if done with a ready will And a kindly spirit — still, It is not little in you. It may seem an easy thing That you seek to do — To bind up a broken wing — ©mnipresence 157 A song to renew, — But with aspect stern and cold, And a grasp of iron hold. It will not be ed,iy for you. It may seem a hard, hard thing That you wish to do — To bring back the wandering, A life to renew, — But, with loving heart and face, And a prayer for God's sweet grace, It shall not be hdixd for you. OMNIPRESENCE. Father and Friend, Thy light. Thy love Beaming through all Thy works we see ; Thy glory gilds the heavens above, And all the earth is full of Thee. Thy voice we hear, Thy presence feel, Whilst Thou — too pure for mortal sight, Involved in clouds, invisible — Reignest the Lord of life and light. 158 Ifn ©recti ipastures We know not in what hallowed part Of the wide heavens Thy throne may be ; But this we know — that where Thou art, Strength, wisdom, goodness, dwell with Thee. And through the various maze of time, And through th' infinity of space. We follow Thy career sublime, And all Thy wondrous footsteps trace. Thy children shall not faint nor fear, , Sustained by this delightful thought, — Since Thou, their God, art everywhere. They cannot be where Thou art not. THOU KNOWEST. Lord, with what body do they come. Who in corruption here are sown. When, with humiliation done, They wear the likeness of Thine own ? Lord, of what manner didst Thou make The fruits upon life's healing tree ? Where flows that water we may take, And thirst not through eternity ? n:bou fjnowest 159 Where lie the beds of lilies prest By virgins whiter than their snow ? What can we liken to the rest Thy well-beloved yet shall know ? And where no moon shall shine by night, No sun shall rise and take his place, How shall we look upon the light, O I.amb of God, that lights Thy face ? How shall we speak our joy that day We stand upon the blissful shore, Where blest inhabitants shall say : Lo ! we are sick and sad no more ? What anthems shall we raise to Thee, The host upon the other side ? What will our depths of rapture be When heart and soul are " satisfied " ? How will life seem when fear, nor dread, Nor mortal weakness chains our powers, — When sin is crushed and death is dead. And all eternity is ours ? i6o iTn ©leen pastures When, with our Lover and our Spouse, We shall as angels be above. And plight no troths and breathe no vows. How shall we tell and prove our love ? How can we take in faith Thy hand, And walk the way that we must tread ? How can we trust and understand That Christ will raise us from the dead ? We cannot see nor know to-day. For He hath made us of the dust ; We can but wait His time, and say : Even though He slay me, I will trust ! Swift to the dead we hasten now, And know not even the way we go ; Yet quick and dead are Thine, and Thou — Thou knowest all we do not know ! A TIRED HEART. Dear Lord ! if one should some day come to Thee, Weary exceedingly, and poor and worn. With bleeding feet sore-pierced of many a thorn, BvergisDaB ©utg i6i And lips athirst, and eyes too tired to see, And, falling down before Thy face, should say : " Lord, my day counts but as an idle day, My hands have gathered fruit of no fair tree, Empty am I of stores of oil and corn, Broken am I and utterly forlorn, Yet in Thy vineyard hast Thou room for me?" Wouldst turn Thy face away ? Nay, Thou wouldst lift Thy lost sheep tenderly. EVERY-DAY DUTY. "My way to Christ, " said Cleon, "lies Through deep and fine philosophies." " As shaven monk or anchorite, I '11 seek His face," said Theodite. " Narrow and straight before mine eyes," Said John, " my path of duty lies ; " And if I fail to find Him there, I shall not find Him anywhere." i62 iFn ©reen paetures THE DESIRE TO DEPART. Hadad said unto Pharaoh, Let me depart^ that I may go to mine own country. Then Pharaoh said unto him. But what hast thou lacked with me, that, behold, thou seekest to go to thine own country ? And he answered. Nothing : howbeit let me go in any wise. — I Kings, xi, 21, 22. And thus our hearts appeal to them, When we behold our dearest rise And look towards Jerusalem With strangely kindling eyes. , . " What have ye lacked, beloved, with us," We murmur heavily and low, " That ye should rise with kindling eyes, And be so fain to go ? " And tenderly the answer falls From lips that wear the smile of heaven : " Dear ones," they say, " we pass this day To Him by whom your love was given ; And in His presence clear and true, We answer you with hearts that glow; ^be ifulnees of XLimc 163 No good thing have we lacked with you — Howbeit let us go ! " And, even as they speak, their thoughts Are wandering upward to the Throne : Ah, God ! we see, at length, how free All earthly ties must leave Thine own. Yet, kneeling low in darkened homes. And weeping for the treasure spent, We bless Thee, Lord, for that sweet word Our dear ones murmured as they went. It was not that our love was cold. That earthly lights were burning dim. But that the Shepherd from his fold Had smiled, and drawn them unto Him. Praise God the Shepherd is so sweet ! Praise God the country is so fair ! We could not hold them from His feet ; We can but haste to meet them there. THE FULNESS OF TIME. When the seeds were ready, one by one, Through the earth they broke ; When the bud was ready, lo ! the sun Touched it, and it woke. i64 fn ©reen pastures When the heart was ready, half a breath Rent the veil it wore ; When the soul was ready, loving Death Oped a wider door. TINY TOKENS The memory of a kindly word For long-gone-by, The fragrance of a fading flower Sent lovingly. The gleaming of a sudden smile Or sudden tear, The warmer pressure of the hand. The word of cheer, The hush that means " I cannot speak, But I have heard ! " The note that only bears a verse From God's own Word : — Such tiny things we hardly count As ministry, — The givers deeming they have shown Scant sympathy ; — But when the heart is overwrought, Oh, who can tell The power of such tiny things To make it well ! Ueep /IRb CommaiiDments 165 IF YE LOVE ME, KEEP MY COMMANDMENTS. Love, to be love, must walk Thy way And work Thy Will ; Or if Thou say, " Lie still," Lie still, and pray. Love, Thine own Bride, with all her might Will follow Thee, And till the shadows flee Keep Thee in sight. Love will not mar her peaceful face With cares undue. Faithless and hopeless, too, And out of place. Love, knowing Thou much more art Love, Will sun her grief. And pluck her myrtle leaf, And be Thy dove. Love here hath vast beatitude : What shall be hers Where there is no more curse, But all is good ? i66 iFn ©recn pastures NO UNBELIEF. There is no unbelief : Whoever plants a seed beneath the sod, And waits to see it push away the clod — He trusts in God. Whoever says, when clouds are in the sky : " Be patient. Heart ; light breaketh by- and-by," Trusts the Most High. Whoever sees, 'neath winter's field of snow. The silent harvest of the future grow, God's power must know. Whoever lies down on his couch to sleep, Content to lock each sense in slumber deep. Knows God will keep. Whoever says : " To-morrow — The Un- known — The future," trusts that Power alone He dares disown. fferusSong 167 The heart that looks on when the eyelids close, And dares to live though life has only woes, God's comfort knows. There is no unbelief ; But day by day and night, unconsciously, The heart lives by the faith the lips deny — God knoweth why ! FERN-SONG. Dance to the beat of the rain, little Fern, And spread out thy palms again, And say, " Though the sun Hath my vesture spun, He had labored, alas ! in vain, But for the shade That the cloud hath made. And the gift of the dew and the rain." Then laugh and upturn All thy fronds, little Fern, And rejoice in the beat of the rain ! i68 fln (5rcen pastures THE LOWLY LIFE. A LITTLE flower so lowly grew, So lonely was it left, That heaven looked like an eye of blue Down in its rocky cleft. What could the little flower do In such a darksome place, But try to reach that eye of blue And climb to kiss heaven's face ? And there 's no life so lone and low But strength may still be given From narrowest lot on earth to grow The straighter up to heaven. RABBI BEN EZRA. Grow old along with me ! The best is yet to be, The last of life, for which the first was made : Our times are in His hand Who saith : " A whole I planned ; Youth shows but half ; trust God ; see all, nor be afraid ! " IRabbl SJcn B3ra 169 Youth ended, I shall try My gain or loss thereby ; Leave the fire-ashes, what survives is gold : And I shall weigh the same, Give life its praise or blame : Young, all lay in dispute ; I shall know, being old. For note, when evening shuts, A certain moment cuts The deed off, calls the glory from the gray: A whisper from the west Shoots : " Add this to the rest. Take it and try its worth : here dies another day." Not on the vulgar mass Called " work " must sentence pass, — Things done, that took the eye and had the price, — O'er which, from level stand. The low world laid its hand. Found straightway to its mind, could value in a trice ; I70 IFn ©rcen pastures But all the world 's coarse thumb And finger failed to plumb, So passed in making up the main ac- count, — All instincts immature, All purposes unsure, That weighed not as his work, yet swelled the man's amount, — Thoughts hardly to be packed Into a narrow act, Fancies that broke through language and escaped ; — All I could never be. All men ignored in me, — This I was worth to God, whose wheel the pitcher shaped. Ay, note that Potter's wheel, That metaphor, and feel Why time spins fast, why passive lies our clay, — Thou to whom fools propound. When the wine makes its round, " Since life fleets, all is change ; the Past gone, seize To-day ! " "Rabbi JBen E3ta ni Fool ! all that is at all Lasts ever, past recall ; Earth changes, but thy soul and God stand sure : What entered into thee — That was, is, and shall be : Time's wheel runs back or stops ; Potter and clay endure. Look not thou down, but up To uses of a cup, — The festal board, lamp's flash and trum- pet's peal. The new wine's foaming flow, The Master's lips aglow ! Thou, heaven's consummate cup, what need'st thou with earth's wheel ? But I need, now as then. Thee, God, who mouldest men ; And since, not even when the whirl was worst. Did I (to the wheel of life, With shapes and colors rife, Bound dizzily) mistake my end — to slake Thy thirst, — 172 ITn ©rcen pastures So take and use Thy work ; Amend what h4ws may lurk, What strain o' the stuff, what warpings past Thy aim ! My times be in Thy hand ! Perfect the cup as planned ! Let age approve of youth, and death com- plete the same ! REFRESHMENT. Lord, what a change within us one short hour Spent in Thy presence will avail to make, What heavy burdens from our bosoms take, What parched grounds refresh, as with a shower ! We kneel, and all around us seems to lower ; We rise, and all, the distant and the near, Stands forth in sunny outline, brave and clear ; We kneel, how weak, we rise, how full of power Why, therefore, should we do ourselves this wrong. Our Shepherd knows the way, . . . And where He leads we cannot go astray." — Page 173. ©ur SbepberD 173 Or others, that we are not alwa3's strong ; That we are ever overborne with care, That we should ever weak or heartless be. Anxious or troubled, when with us is prayer, And joy and strength and courage are with Thee? OUR SHEPHERD. What though the way be uphill, bare, and lone, Drear to the sight and rough to weary feet? What though it lead through depths, o'er heights unknown. Where night-mists gather and where storm-winds beat ? Our Shepherd knows the way As well by night as day, And where He leads we cannot go astray. What though the pleasant starting-point be hid In dimmest distance stretching out be- hind. 174 Hn ©rccn ipastures While far and farther on the goal seems slid Beyond the straining sight that longs to find? Our Shepherd telleth o'er The steps behind, before, And safely guides us to the fair fold's door. What though few flowers beside the way spring up, And song-birds fly on unreturning wings ? What though on bitter herbage oft we sup. And drink our tears for lack of fresher springs ? Our Shepherd knoweth well That more of strength doth dwell In wholesome bitter than in caromel. The long, dim way but makes the goal more bright ; Clear-shining after rain is doubly blest ; Peace smileth best on those who win the fight, And after labor passing sweet is rest. The perils of the way, The hardships and delay Will cast no shadows on unending Day. ■Jfnsigbt 175 INSIGHT. I NEVER saw a moor, I never saw the sea ; Yet know I how the heather looks, And what a wave must be. I never spoke with God, Nor visited in heaven ; Yet certain am I of the spot, As if the chart were given. CHRIST'S INVITATION. Heaven's King Doth bid thee to a marriage feast each day : His banquet is full dressed : He asks thee for His guest ; Nor count it a light thing If thou refuse or if thou dost obey. If thou shouldst go thy way. And for earth's farm and merchandise. His great command despise. Beware lest in His royal wrath He swear That thou shalt ne'er partake its sacred fare. 176 "ffn (Breen pastures And that He seeks for guests who will not say Him " Nay." The spirit of self-sacrifice Stays not to count its price. Christ did not of His mere abundance cast Into the empty treasury of man's store. The First and Last Gave until even He could give no more ; — His very living, Such was Christ's giving. THE BLESSED TASK. I SAID : Sweet Master, hear me pray ; For love of Thee the boon I ask ; Give me to do for Thee each day Some simple, lowly, blessed task. And listening long, with hope elate, I only heard Him answer : Wait. The days went by, and nothing brought Beyond the wonted round of care. And I was vexed with anxious thought. And found the waiting hard to bear ; But when I sighed : In vain I pray ; I heard Him gently answer : Nay ! tTbe (Sluest 177 So praying still, and waiting on, And pondering what the waiting meant, This knowledge sweet at last I won — And oh ! the depth of my content, — My blessed task for every day Is humbly, gladly to obey. And though I daily, hourly fail To bring my task to Him complete. And must with constant tears bewail My failures at my Master's feet. No other service would I ask Than this my blessed, blessed task. THE QUEST. ' ' Whither shall I;;o from Thy spirit ? or -cvhither shall I Jlcc from Thy fresetice ^ ' ' I CANNOT find Thee ! Still on restless pinion My spirit beats the void where Thou dost dwell ; I wander lost through all Thy vast do- minion. And shrink beneath Thy light ineffable. 178 IFn ©reen ipastures I cannot find Thee ! E'en when most adoring Before Thy throne I bend in lowliest prayer, Beyond these bounds of thought my thought upsoaring From farthest quest comes back ; Thou art not there. Yet high above the limits of my seeing, And folded far within the inmost heart, And deep below the deeps of conscious being, Thy splendor shineth ; there, O God, Thou art. I cannot lose Thee ! Still in Thee abid- ing The end is clear, how wide soe'er I roam ; The Hand that holds the worlds my steps is guiding, And I must rest at last in Thee, my Home. TRUiegenlleD i?) WIEGENLIED. Be still and sleep, my soul ! Now gentle-footed Night, In softly shadowed stole. Holds all the day from sight. Why shouldst thou lie and stare Against the dark, and toss, And live again thy care, Thine agony and loss ? * Twas given thee to live, And thou hast lived it all ; Let that suffice, nor give One thought what may befall. Thou hast no need to wake, Thou art no sentinel ; Love all the care will take, And Wisdom watcheth well. Weep not, think not, but rest ! The stars in silence roll ; On the world's mother-breast. Be still and sleep, my soul ! i8o f n (5reen pastures THE DAY OF THE LORD. It was not a day of feasting, Nor a day of the brimming cup ; There were bitter drops in the fountain Of life as it bubbled up ; And over the toilsome hours Were weakness and sorrow poured, Yet I said " Amen ! " when the night came? It had been a day of the Lord. A day of His sweetest whispers In the hush of the tempest's whirl ; A day when the Master's blessing Was pure in my hand as a pearl ; A day when, under orders, I was fettered, yet was free ; A day of strife and triumph, A day of the Lord to me ! And my head, as it touched the pillow, When the darkness gathered deep, Was soothed at the thought of taking The gift of childlike sleep ; For what were the burdens carried, And what was the foeman's sword. To one who had fought and triumphed In a blessed day of the Lord ? pcagcc i8i MORAI^ITY. We cannot kindle when we will The fire that in the heart resides ; The Spirit bloweth and is still, In mystery our soul abides : But tasks in hours of insight willed Can be through hours of gloom fulfilled. With aching hands and bleeding feet We dig and reap, lay stone on stone ; We bear the burden and the heat Of the long day, and wish 't were done. Not till the hours of light return. All we have built do we discern. PRAYER. We doubt the word that tells us : " Ask, And ye shall have your prayer ; " We turn our thoughts as to a task, With will constrained and rare. And yet we have ! These scanty prayers Yield gold without alloy : O God ! but he that trusts and dares Must have a boundless joy. i82 iin ©reen pastures THE GREAT TEACHER. I LOVE to feel that I am taught, And, as a little child, To note the lessons I have learnt In passing through the wild. For I am sure God teaches me, And His own gracious Hand Each varying page before me spreads, By love and wisdom planned. I often think I cannot spell The lesson I must learn. And then, in weariness and doubt, I pray the page may turn ; But time goes on, and soon I find I was learning all the while ; And words which seemed most dimly traced Shine out with rainbow smile. Or sometimes strangely I forget. And learning o'er and o'er, A lesson all with teardrops wet. Which I had learned before. He chides me not, but waits awhile, Then wipes my heavy eyes ; tLbc (Sreat ^cacber 183 Oh, what a Teacher is our God, So patient and so wise ! Sometimes the Master gives to me A strange, new alphabet ; I wonder what its use will be, Or why it need be set. And then I find this tongue alone Some stranger ear can reach, One whom He has commissioned me For Him to train or teach. If others sadly bring to me A lesson hard or new, I often find that helping them Has made me learn it too. Or, had I learnt it long before. My toil is overpaid If so one tearful eye may see One lesson plainer made. We do not see our Teacher's face, We do not hear His voice, And yet we know that He is near, We feel it and rejoice. There is a music round our hearts, Set in no mortal key ; i84 Hn ©teen ipastures There is a Presence in our souls — We know that it is He. His loving teaching cannot fail, And we shall know at last Each task that seemed so hard and strange, When learning time is past. Oh ! may we learn to love Him more By every opening page, By every lesson He shall mark With daily ripening age. WISH AND ACTION. Not Fortune's slave is man : our state Enjoins, while firm resolves await On wishes just and wise, That strenuous action follow both, And life be one perpetual growth Of heavenward enterprise. So taught, so trained, we boldly face All accidents of time and place, Whatever props may fail ; Trust in that Sovereign Law can spread New glory o'er the mountain's head. Fresh beauty through the vale. ®ur DallB JBreaD 185 OUR DAILY BREAD. " Give us our daily bread," we pray, And know not half of what we say. The bread on which our bodies feed Is but the moiety of our need. The soul, the heart, must nourished be, And share the daily urgency. And though it may be bitter bread On which these nobler parts are fed, No less we crave the daily dole, O Lord, of body and of soul ! Sweet loaves, the wine-must all afoam, The manna and the honey-comb, — All these are good, but better still The food which checks and moulds the will. The sting for pride, the smart for sin. The purging draught for self within. The sorrows which we shuddering meet. Not knowing their after-taste of sweet, — i86 i[n (5reen pastures All these we ask for when we pray, " Give us our daily bread this day." Lord, leave us not athirst, unfed ; Give us this best and hardest bread, Until, these mortal needs all past, We sit at Thy full feast at last, — The bread of angels broken by Thee, The wine of joy poured constantly. NIL NISI BONUM. Hath thy heart sunshine ? shed it wide ; The weary world hath need of thee. Doth bitterness within abide ? Shut fast thy door, and hold the key. THE SOUL'S PARTING. She sat within Life's Banquet Hall at noon, When word was brought unto her secretly : " The Master cometh onwards quickly ; soon Across the threshold He will call for thee." Then she rose up to meet Him at the Door, But turning, courteous, said a farewell brief Cbe Soul's parting 187 To those that sat around. From Care and Grief She parted first : *' Companions sworn and true Have ye been ever to me, but for Friends I knew ye not till later, and did miss Much solace through that error ; let this kiss. Late known and prized, be taken for amends ; — Thou, too, kind, constant Patience, with thy slow, Sweet counsels aiding me ; I did not know That ye were Angels, until ye displayed Your wings for flight : Now bless me ! " But they said, " We blessed thee long ago." Then turning unto twain That stood together, tenderly and oft She kissed them on their foreheads, whispering soft : " Now must we part ; yet leave me not before Ye see me enter safe within the Door ! Kind bosom-comforters, that by my side i88 irn ©ceen ipasturcs The darkest hour found ever closest bide, A dark hour waits me ere for evermore Night with its heaviness be overpast ; Stay with me till I cross the threshold o'er ! " So Faith and Hope stayed by her till the last. But giving both her hands To one that stood the nearest : — " Thou and I May pass together ; for the holy bands God knits on earth are never loosed on high. Long have I walked with thee ; thy name arose E'en in my sleep, and sweeter than the close Of music was thy voice ; for thou wert sent To lead me homewards from my banish- ment By devious ways ; and never hath my heart Swerved from thee, though our hands were wrung apart By spirits sworn to sever us : above Soon shall I look upon thee as thou art." So she crossed o'er with Love. ITnsomnia 189 INSOMNIA. How heavily the evening lies On aching limbs and sleepless eyes ! And as the day gives place to night The spirit seems to lose its light. Conscience and Fancy, — thoughts of all That most can harass and appall, — A strange, tumultuous vigil keep ; And only Hope and Reason sleep. O troubled heart ! O fevered head ! There watches One beside thy bed, Calmer than moonlight on a flower. Stronger than Satan's wildest power. He knows the night who made it pass At first, like breath from gleaming glass, When at His word, " Let there be light," The day-spring flashed, and all was bright. He knows it who on mountains bare Passed its long hours in lonely care, Kneeling beneath the Syrian sky. Pleading till dawn with the Most High. igo - ITn (Breen ipastures He searched the darkness through and through ; Its gloom, for Him, has nothing new, As night by night He turns us round Into the shadowy outer bound. There, when afHicted and alone, Oh, call upon that Mighty One ! And hold Him fast, and make Him stay And bless you till the dawn of day. Remember, Night has mercies too ; Its pains are only for the few ; Think upon all the peace it brings, Folding soft creatures in its wings. As wearily you toss and sigh. Thousands of infants sleeping lie ; And man, and beast, and bird, and flower, Grow stronger for the midnight hour. And if the darkness had not been. We never should the stars have seen. Nor guessed that the clear azure sky Veiled myriad worlds that rolled on high. tLbc Bternal ©oo&ness 191 Then spend no more dark hours alone, But call upon the Mighty One, And hold Him fast, and He will stay Until the shadows flee away. THE ETERNAL GOODNESS. Who fathoms the Eternal Thought ? Who talks of scheme and plan ? The Lord is God ! He needeth not The weak device of man. . . . I bow my forehead to the dust, I veil mine eyes for shame. And urge, in trembling self-distrust, A prayer without a claim. I see the wrong that round me lies, I feel the guilt within ; I hear, with groans and travail-cries. The world confess its sin. Yet in the maddening maze of things. And tossed by storm and flood. To one fixed stake my spirit clings, — I know that God is good ! . . . 192 f n (5reen pastures I know not what the future hath Of marvel or surprise, Assured alone that life and death His mercy underlies. And if my heart and flesh are weak To bear an untried pain, The bruised reed He will not break, But strengthen and sustain. No offering of my own I have. Nor works mv faith to prove ; I can but give the gifts He gave. And plead His love for love. And so beside the Silent Sea I wait the muffled oar ; No harm from Him can come to me On ocean or on shore. I know not where His islands lift Their fronded palms in air ; I only know I cannot drift Beyond His love and care. And Thou, O Lord ! by whom are seen Thy creatures as they be, Forgive me if too close I lean My human heart on Thee ! Discontent 193 DISCONTENT. There is no day so dark But tlirough the murk some ray of hope may steal, Some blessed touch from Heaven that we might feel, If we but chose to mark. We shut the portals fast, And turn the key and let no sunshine in ; Yet to the worst despair that comes through sin God's light shall reach at last. We slight our daily joy, Make much of our vexations, thickly set Our path with thorns of discontent, and fret At our fine gold's alloy, Till bounteous Heaven might frown At such ingratitude and, turning, lay On our impatience burdens that would weigh Our aching shoulders down. 194 "ffit ©reen pastures We shed too many tears, And sigh too sore, and yield us up to woe, As if God had not planned the way we go, And counted out our tears. Can we not be content. And lift our foreheads from the ignoble dust Of these complaining lives, and wait with trust, Fulfilling Heaven's intent ? Must we have wealth and power — Fame, beauty — all things ordered to our mind ? Nay, all these things leave happiness be- hind ! Accept the sun and shower, The humble joys that bless. Appealing to indifferent hearts and cold With delicate touch, striving to reach and hold Our hidden consciousness. Bcccptable Service 195 And see how everywhere Love comforts, strengthens, helps, and saves us all ; What opportunities of good befall To make life sweet and fair ! ACCEPTABLE SERVICE. Three things Theodosius purposed, as he rose. Should be accomplished ere the evening's close : His missal-copy, finely writ, and splendid In crimson, gold, and azure, should be ended ; And written, too, the song of sacred praise For choristers to sing on holy days ; Then, as an added, but not alien, grace — As ocean's glass interprets heaven's face — With every note aright, a music-scroll Should give the body of his song its soul. That morning from a neighboring convent came A novice, knowing of Theodosius' fame, 196 lln ©recn pastures And craved instruction in the painter's art : Hour after hour, Theodosius saw depart The precious morning light, yet patiently Tutored the novice. Once again set free, A woman eagerly besought his aid For her sick child ; and long Theodo- sius stayed Tending his patient, till with tearful joy The mother gently kissed her rescued boy. Vespers were sung ; a brother sore dis- tressed Poured out his griefs on Theodosius' breast And, comforted, departed. Compline said, Theodosius turned in weariness to bed. Praying : " O God ! to glorify Thy name Three things I purposed ; now with heartfelt shame I see the day is ended, and not one Of all those things my feeble skill hath done. Yet, since my life is Thine, be Thine to say Where shall be found the duties of the day; B "WHorktng Ibgrnn 197 And in Thy work my work perfected be, Or given o'er in sacrifice to Thee." Then suddenly upon his inward ear There fell the answer, gentle, calm, and clear : " Thrice hath My name to-day been glori- fied In loving service — teacher, friend, and guide. Such work with God for man, if gladly done, Is heaven's ministry on earth begun. To work the works I purpose is to be At one with saints, with angels, and with Me." A WORKING HYMN. Son of the Carpenter, receive This humble work of mine ; Worth to my meanest labor give By joining it with Thine. Servant of all ! to toil for man Thou wouldst not, Lord, refuse ; igs Hn (5reen pastures Thy majesty did not disdain To be employed for us. Thy bright example I pursue, To Thee in all things rise, And all I think, or speak, or do, Is one great sacrifice. Careless through outward cares I go, From all distraction free ; My hands are but engaged below, My heart is still with Thee. Oh, when wilt Thou, my life, appear ? Then will I gladly cry : " 'T is done, the work Thou gav'st me here, 'T is finished, Lord " — and die ! HOW TO LIVE. He liveth long who liveth well ; All other life is short and vain ; He liveth longest who can tell Of living most for heavenly gain. He liveth long who liveth well ; All else is being flung away ; He liveth longest who can tell Of true things truly done each day. XO0S anO (5atn 199 Waste not thy being ; back to Him Who freely gave it, freely give ; Else is that being but a dream, — 'T is but to be, and not to live. Be what thou seemest ! live thy creed ! Hold up to earth the torch divine ; Be what thou prayest to be made ; Let the great Master's steps be thine. Sow love, and taste its fruitage pure ; Sow peace, and reap its harvest bright ; Sow sunbeams on the rock and moor, And find a harvest-home of light. LOSS AND GAIN. Myriad roses, unregretted, perish in their vernal bloom. That the essence of their sweetness 07ice your beauty may perfume. Myriad veins of richest life-blood empty forth their priceless worth. To exalt one will imperial over spacious realms of earth. 200 ifn ©reen pastures Myriad hearts are pained and broken that one Poet may be taught To discern the shapes and passions, and describe them as he ought. Myriad minds of heavenly temper pass as passes moon and star, That one philosophic spirit may ascend the solar car. Sacrifice and self-devotion hallow earth and fill the skies. And the meanest Life is sacred whence the highest may arise. INJUNCTION. Walk thy way greatly. So do thou en- dure Thy small, thy narrow, dwarfed and cankered life That soothing patience shall be half the cure For ills that lesser souls keep sore with strife. •ffn patience 201 Be thou thyself. So strongly, grandly bear Thee on what seems thy hard, mistaken road, That thou shalt breathe heaven's clearest upper air. And so forget thy feet that meet the clod. Wilt see thyself to god-like stature grown ; Feed full thy soul on strong humility. Then shalt thou on thy sordid life look down ; Make thou thy life, not let thy life make thee. IN PATIENCE. I WILL not faint, but trust in God Who this my lot hath given : He leads me by the thorny road Which is the road to heaven. Though sad my day that lasts so long, At evening I shall have a song : Though dim the day until the night. At evening-time there shall be light. 202 Hn (Breen H>astures My life is but a working day Whose tasks are set aright ; A while to work, a while to pray, And then a quiet night. And then, please God, a quiet night Where Saints and Angels walk in white ; One dreamless sleep from work and sorrow, But re-awakening on the morrow. [Macmillan, Copyright, 1896.] RECONCILED. O YEARS, gone down into the past. What pleasant memories come to me Of your untroubled days of peace, And hours almost of ecstasy ! Yet would I have no moon stand still Where life's most pleasant valleys lie ; Nor wheel the planet of the day Back on his pathway through the sky. For though when youthful pleasures died, My youth itself went with them, too, To-day — aye ! even this very hour — Is the best time I ever knew. ■Reconciled 203 Not that my Father gives to me More blessings than in days gone by, — Dropping in my uplifted hands All things for which I blindly cry : But that His plans and purposes Have grown to me less strange and dim ; And where I cannot understand I trust the issues unto Him. And, spite of many broken dreams. This I have truly learned to say — The prayers I thought unanswered once Were answered in God's own best way. And I have learned the weakest ones Are kept securest from life's harms, And that the tender lambs alone Are carried in the Shepherd's arms. And, sitting by the wayside blind, He is the nearest to the light Who crieth out most earnestly : " Lord, that I might receive my sight ! " O feet, grown weary as ye walk Where down life's hill my pathway lies, 204 ITn ©reen ipastures What care I, when my soul can mount As the young eagle mounts the skies. O eyes, with weeping faded out, What matters it how dim ye be ? My inner vision sweeps, untired, The reaches of eternity ! O Death, most dreaded power of all ! When the last moment comes, and thou Darkenest the windows of my soul, Through which I look on nature now, — Yea, when mortality dissolves, Shall I not meet thine hour unawed ? My house eternal in the heavens Is lighted by the smile of God. THE NINTH PARADISE. In the nine heavens are eight Paradises ; Where is the ninth one ? In the human breast. Only the blessed dwell in the Paradises, But blessedness dwells in the human breast. an '6 TKacii 205 Created creatures are in the Paradises, The uncreated Maker is in the breast. Rather, O man, want those eight Paradises, Than be without the ninth one in thy breast. Given to thee are those eight Paradises When thou hast the ninth one within thy breast. ALL'S WELL. Ask and receive : — 't is sweetly said, Yet what to plead for I know not ; For Wish is worsted, Hope outsped. And aye to thanks returns my thought. If I would pray, I 've nought to say But this, that God may be God still ; For Him, to live Is still to give, And sweeter than my wish His will. O wealth of life beyond all bound ! Eternity each moment given ! What plummet may the Present sound ? Who promises z. future heaven ? 2o6 irn (Breen ipastures Or glad, or grieved, Oppressed, relieved, In blackest night or brightest day, Still pours the flood Of golden good, And more than heart-full fills me aye. I have a stake in every star. In every beam that fills the day ; All hearts of men my coffers are, My ores aerial tides convey ; The fields, the skies. And sweet replies Of thought to thought are my gold-dust,- The oaks, the brooks, And speaking looks Of lovers' faith and friendship's trust. Life's youngest tides joy-brimming flow For him who lives above all years, Who all-immortal makes the Now, And is not ta'en in Time's arrears. His life's a hymn The seraphim Might hark to hear or help to sing. And to his soul AiB 3f ctenD 207 The boundless whole Its bounty all doth daily bring. '* All mine is thine," the sky-soul saith ; " The wealth I am, must thou become, — Richer and richer, breath by breath, Immortal gain, immortal room ! " And since all his Mine also is, Life's gift outruns my fancies far, And drowns the dream In larger stream, As morning drinks the morning star, MY FRIEND. O Friend of souls ! how blest the time When in Thy love I rest. When from my weariness I climb E'en to Thy tender breast ! The night of sorrow endeth there, Thy rays outshine the sun ; And in Thy pardon and Thy care The heaven of heavens is won. 2o8 iin ©reen ipastures The world may call itself my foe, Or flatter and allure : I care not for the world, I go To this tried Friend and sure. And when life's fiercest storms are sent Upon life's wildest sea, My little bark is confident Because it holdeth Thee. I do not fear the wilderness Where Thou hast been before ; Nay, rather would I daily press After Thee more and more ! Thou art my strength, on Thee I lean ; My heart thou makest sing ; And to Thy pastures green at length Thy chosen flock will bring. FOREBODINGS. I SAID : The desert is so wide ! I said : The desert is so bare ! What springs to quench my thirst are there ? Where shall I from the tempest hide ? jporetaste 209 I said : The desert is so lone ! Nor gentle voice, nor loving face, Will brighten any smallest space. — I paused or ere my moan was done ! I heard the flow of hidden springs : Before me palms rose green and fair ; The birds were singing ; all the air Did shine and stir with angel wings ! And One said mildly : " Why, indeed, Take over-anxious thought for what The morrow bringeth ! See you not The Father knoweth what you need ? " FORETASTE. Oh ! sure I am the draught is sweet, Although my cup doth not run over ; In each wee blossom at my feet Perfection's whole I can discover. There 's not a single happy hour — An hour that 's ever worth the living — But holds the truth within its power That happiness is God's own giving; 2IO iin (Brcen pastures That He in whom all fulness dwells, Who gives to each of His good pleasure, Reserves a bliss that far excels The compass of our finite measure. My pleasant draught doth make me bold To taste a drop of heaven's sweetness, And find the tiniest flower doth hold An atom of the Lord's completeness. EYE HATH NOT SEEN. " Eye hath not seen ! " Yet man hath known and weighed A hundred thousand marvels that have been : What is it which (the Word of Truth hath said) Eye hath not seen ? " Eye hath not heard ! " Yet harpings of delight, Trumpets of triumph, song and spoken word, — Man knows them all : what lovelier, loftier might Hath ear not heard ? trbe Bnewer 211 " Nor heart conceive ! " Yet hath man now desired Beyond all reach, beyond his hope be- lieved, Loved beyond death : What fire shall yet be fired, No heart conceived ? " Deep calls to deep ! " Man's depth would be despair But for God's deeper depth ; we sow to reap ; Have patience, wait, betake ourselves to prayer ; Deep answereth deep. THE ANSWER. "Allah, Allah! " cried the sick man, racked with pain the long night through : Till with prayer his heart grew tender, till his lips like honey grew. But at morning came the Tempter ; said, " Call louder, child of Pain ! See if Allah ever hears, or answers * Here am I,' again." 212 iTn ©reen pastures Like a stab, the cruel cavil through his brain and pulses went ; To his heart an icy coldness, to his brain a darkness, sent. Then before him stands Elias ; says, " My child, why thus dismayed ? Dost repent thy former fervor ? Is thy soul of prayer afraid ? " " Ah ! " he cried, " I 've called so often, never heard the ' Here am I ' ; And I thought, God will not pity, will. not turn on me His eye." Then the grave Elias answered : " God said, ' Rise, Elias ; go Speak to him, the sorely tempted ; lift him from his gulf of woe. " * Tell him that his very longing is itself an answering cry ; That his prayer, " Come, gracious Allah ! " is my answer, " Here am I." ' " Every inmost aspiration is God's angel undefiled, And in every " O my Father," slumbers deep a " Here, my child." Ibope I act ! 213 HOPE ! ACT ! Still hope ! Still act ! Be sure that life, The source and strength of every good, Wastes down in feeling's empty strife. And dies in dreaming's sickly mood. To toil, in tasks however mean, For all we know of right and true, — In this alone our worth is seen ; 'T is this we are ordained to do. So shalt thou find in work and thought The peace that sorrow cannot give ; Though grief's worst pangs to thee be taught, By thee let others nobler live. Oh, wail not in the darksome forest, Where thou must needs be left alone ! But e'en when memory is sorest, Seek out a path, and journey on. Thou wilt have angels near, above, By whom invisible aid is given ; They journey still on tasks of love, And never rest, except in heaven. 214 Hn ©reen pastures TO-MORROW. What is it Jesus saith unto the soul ? — *' Take up the Cross, and come and fol- low Me." One word He saith to all men ; none may be Without a Cross, yet hope to touch the goal. Then heave it bravely up, and brace thy whole Body to bear ; it will not weigh on thee Past strength ; or if it crush thee to thy knee Take heart of grace, for grace shall be thy dole. Give thanks to-day, and let to-morrow take Heed to itself ; to-day imports thee more. To-morrow may not dawn like yester- day : Until that unknown morrow go thy way, Suffer and work and strive for Jesus' sake : — Who tells thee what to-morrow keeps in store ? IF SalO 215 I SAID. When apple blossoms in the spring Began their fragrant leaves to shed, And robins twittered on the wing, " 'T is time to sow my seeds," I said. So patiently, with care and pains, My nurslings underground I spread : " The early and the latter rains Will reach them where they lie," I said. " The sun will nurse them, and the dew, The sweet winds woo them overhead ; No care of mine can coax them through This black, unsightly mould," I said. And so I left them. Day by day, To gentle household duties wed, I went in quiet on my way : " God will take care of them," I said. And now 't is autumn : rich and bright My garden blooms, — blue, white, and red ; — A loyal show ! a regal sight ! And all is even as I said. 2i6 ITn ©reen ipastiircs My faithless heart ! the lesson heed ; No longer walk disquieted ; Where the Great Sower sows the seed, All shall be even as He said. 'T is spring-time yet ; behold ! the years Roll grandly in, God overhead, When Thou shalt say : "O, bootless fears! " Lo ! all is even as He said. THE ANGEL REAPERS. Fair are the Angel Reapers, Still reaping where we sow, While o'er the varied fields of Life As laborers we go. Toiling with few or many Where'er our lot is cast : — The day of labor may be long, But the harvest comes at last. Glad are the Angel Reapers — Still reaping where we sow The seeds of kindly thoughts and deeds, In human hearts to grow — If with a smile like sunshine Our love shall beam for all, Ube angel TRcapers 217 Or blessed tears of sympathy- Like evening dew shall fall. Sad are the Angel Reapers, Still reaping where we sow The seeds of sin and wrong and strife, In human hearts to grow. The day is long and weary, Oh, should we not beware Lest o'er the field, unguardedly, We scatter many a tare ! Bright are the Angel Reapers, Still reaping where we sow Beside the crystal springs of song, Where healing waters flow, — Seed sown in might or weakness In Thought's broad harvest-field, For garners of Eternity A plenteous store to yield. Bless we the Angel Reapers : When life's long day is past. What of our toil in sun and shade Shall they bring home at last ? 2i8 Hn ©rcen ipastures When Earth's broad fields of labor Our hands no more employ, Oh, may those Reapers gather in Our golden sheaves with joy ! TOIL AND REST. Toil is sweet, for Thou hast toiled ; Rest is sweet, for Thou didst rest ; Be our works from sin assoiled ! Be our rest upon Thy breast ! Be our work for Thee our rest ! Be our strife for Thee our peace, Till our sun sink in the west, And we taste Thy joy's increase ! VIOLETS. They neither toil nor spin ; And yet their robes have won A splendor never seen within The courts of Solomon. Tints that the cloud-rifts hold. And rainbow-gossamer, Cbe Xaw of Xove 219 The violet's tender form enfold ; No queen is draped like her. All heaven and earth and sea Have wrought with subtlest power That clothed in purple she might be — This little, fading flower. We, who must toil and spin. What clothing must we wear ? The glorious raiment we shall win Life shapes us everywhere. God's inner heaven hath sun And rain, and space of sky, Where-through for us His spindles run, His mighty shuttles fly. His seamless vesture white He wraps our spirits in ; He weaves His finest webs of light For us, who toil and spin. THE LAW OF LOVE. Dig channels for the stream of Love, Where they may broadly run, And Love has overflowing streams To fill them every one. o i[n (Breen pastures But if at any time thou cease Such channels to provide, The very springs of Love for thee Will soon be parched and dried. For we must share, if we would keep That good thing from above ; Ceasing to give, we cease to have, — Such is the law of Love. THE CRIMSON THRONE. Once I sat on a crimson throne, And I held the world in fee ; Below me I heard my brothers moan. And I bent me down to see ; — Lovingly bent and looked on them, But / had no inward pain ; I sat in the heart of my ruby gem Like a rainbow without the rain. My throne is vanished ; helpless I lie At the foot of its broken stair, And the sorrows of all humanity Though my heart make a thoroughfare. •fclODen Orowtb 221 SUBMISSION. Since Thy hand presents this cup Can I fail to drink it up ? No ! though bitter be the taste, Not a drop I dare to waste. Lifting heart and bending knee, Lo, in faith I drink to Thee ! . . . Bitter is it ? Yes and No. Just at first it seemeth so. But the bitter is so fleet, And the after-taste so sweet. And the strength it gives so rare, Sweeter cup I well can spare, HIDDEN GROWTH. Dear, secret greenness ! nursed below Tempests and winds and winter nights ! Vex not that but One sees thee grow ; That One made all these lesser lights. 222 iFn (5reen pastures What needs a conscience, calm and bright Within itself, an outward test ? Who breaks his glass to make more light Makes way for storms into his rest. Then bless thy secret growth, nor catch At noise, but thrive unseen and dumb ; Keep clean, bear fruit, earn life, and watch Till the white-winged reapers come. OPTIMISM. I FIND earth not gray, but rosy. Heaven not grim, but fair of hue. Do I stoop ? I pluck a posy : Do I stand and stare ? All 's blue. BIRTHDAY VERSES. My sun has crossed the high meridian line, Beyond the clouds that thither come and go ; While on the western slopes with day's de- cline The shadows deeper grow, :JS(rtbOag IDccses 223 I face the opening portals of the west, My eyes with radiant visions slowly fill, While lie the clouds in level bars at rest, And all the winds are still. I turn not hence with longings for the morn, Nor grieve I for the passing of the noon ; Enough that every change to me hath borne God's blessing late or soon. Nor pray I that the now descending sun Hasten his going, that my day be o'er ; I am content — content God's will be done. Be my time less or more. Nay, something deeper, better than con- tent Or dumb submission to the Will Di- vine ; Thanks rather for the life I here have spent, The hopes forever mine. 224 ITn ©reen ipasturea The endless gifts, the mercies manifold, With all that has been and is still to be : My God, my heart were passionless and cold Did I not bring to Thee The measure of its depths and overflow, — Did not a joyful song to Thee ascend For all that I have known, am yet to know, Until my life shall end, Of that full love which all my way en- folds. Still keeps me close within its sovereign care, And grants whate'er I need, and yet with- holds That which I could not bear. LIGHT. Be not much troubled about many things ; Fear often hath no whit of substance in it. And lives but just a minute ; While from the very snow the wheat-blade springs. trited 225 And light is like a flower That bursts in full leaf from the darkest hour ; And He who made the night Made too the flowery sweetness of the light : Be it thy task, through His good grace, to win it. TIRED. I AM tired. Heart and feet Turn from busy mart and street ; I am tired — rest is sweet. I am tired. Loss and gain — Golden sheaves and scattered grain ! Day has not been spent in vain. I am tired. Eventide Bids me lay my cares aside, Bids me in my hopes abide. I am tired. God is near ; Let me sleep without a fear ; Let me die without a tear. 226 iTn ©reen ipastures I am tired, I would rest As the bird within the nest. I am tired : Home is best. HOW LONG? My life is long. — Not so the Angels say Who watch me waste it, trembling while they weigh Against eternity my lavished day. My life is long. — Not so the Saints in peace Judge, filled with plenitude that cannot cease : Oh, life was short which brought such large increase ! My life is long. — Christ's word is different : The heat and burden of the day were spent On Him ; to me refreshing times are sent. Give me an Angel's heart, that day nor night Rests not from adoration its delight. Still crying " Holy, Holy ! " in the height. Ifattb 227 Give me the heart of Saints, who laid at rest In better Paradise than Abraham's breast, In the everlasting Rock have made their nest. Give me Thy heart, O Christ, who thirty- three Slow years of sorrow countedst short for me, That where Thou art, there Thy beloved might be. [Macmillan, Copyright, 1896.] FAITH. Fain would I hold my lamp of life aloft. Like yonder tower built high above the reef ; Steadfast, though tempests rave or winds blow soft, Clear, though the skies dissolve in tears of grief. For darkness passes, storms shall not abide : A little patience and the fog is past : 228 nn ©reen ipastures After the sorrow of the ebbing tide, The singing flood returns in joy at last. The night is long, and pain weighs heavily, But God will hold His world above despair : Look to the East, where up the lucid sky The morning climbs ! The day shall yet be fair ! HOME. Many a wrong, and its curing song ; Many a road, and many an inn ; Room to roam, but only one Home For all the world to win. TERMINUS. It is time to be old, To take in sail : — The god of bounds. Who sets to seas a shore. Came to me in his fatal rounds, And said : " No more ! C^ermtnus 229 No farther shoot Thy broad, ambitious branches, and thy root. Fancy departs ; no more invent ; Contract thy firmament To compass of a tent. There 's not enough for this and that, Make thy option which of two ; Economize the failing river, Not the less revere the Giver, Leave the many and hold the few. Soften the fall with wary foot ; A little while Still plan and smile, And — fault of novel germs — Mature the unfallen fruit." As the bird trims her to the gale, I trim myself to the storm of time, I man the rudder, reef the sail. Obey at eve the voice obeyed at prime : " Lovvly faithful, banish fear. Right onward drive unharmed ; The port, well worth the cruise, is near, And every wave is charmed." INDEX TO FIRST LINES. "A common-place life," we say, and we sigh A little flower so lowly grew . A rich man dies — so runs the Eastern tale A Sower went forth to sow A tender child of summers three . Admit into thy silent breast . Ah, not in strange, portentous way Ah, when the infinite burden of life descendeth upon us . Allah ! Allah ! cried the sick man racked with pain ...... An ear quick to hear .... And thus our hearts appeal to them And where, and in what pleasant places Ask and receive : — 't is sweetly said Be not much troubled about many things Be still and sleep, my soul Be the sky blue or be the sky gray Be useful where thou livest, that they may Because Thy love hath sought me . Begin the day with God Believe not that your inner eye 231 PAGE 127 168 67 82 59 115 5 154 211 71 162 10 205 224 179 lOI 112 81 36 no 232 flnOcj to JFirst Xines Beneath the drifted snow she keeps Better to love in loneliness Blindfolded and alone I stand By all means use sometimes to be alone By meadow bank, by forest glade . By Thine anguish cleanse my soul . Care Thou for me ! let me not care ! Consider it, this outer world . Content to come, content to go Dance to the beat of the rain, little Fern Dear Lord, are we ever so thankful Dear Lord, if one should some day come to Thee ...... Dear, secret greenness ! nursed below . Dig channels for the Stream of Love Do what Thou wilt ! yes, only do . Dust as we are, the immortal spirit grows Each fearful storm that o'er us rolls Even in a palace life may be led well ' ' Eye hath not seen ! " yet man hath known and weighed ..... Fain would I hold my lamp of life aloft Fair are the Angel Reapers . Father and Friend, Thy light, Thy love Father, I cry to Thee for bread Father of spirits ! Thine all secrets be . PAGB 48 64 99 lOI 30 16 51 13 26 167 38 160 221 219 74 155 76 131 210 227 216 157 24 149 Forenoon and afternoon and night, — Forenoon 13 ■ffn&ej to ffiret Xince 233 Gethsemane denied our Lord Give me the ear, my God, to hear . " Give us our daily bread," we pray God hath made stars the foil . God scatters love on every side Grow old along with me Hath thy heart sunshine ? shed it wide . Have I knowledge? Confounded it shrinks at wisdom laid bare He liveth long who liveth well Heaven is not reached by a single bound Heaven's King doth bid thee to a marriage feast each day. .... Hope evermore and believe, O man, for e'en as thy thought .... How changed in an instant ! What was it ! How heavily the evening lies I am strong in faith and hope I am tired. Heart and feet . I am weary with toil and with ache I ask not that for me the plan I cannot find Thee ! Still on restless pinion I find earth not gray but rosy I have an Enemy. And shall he be I lay me down to sleep .... I long for joy, O Lord ; I long for Thee I look to Thee in every need . I love to feel that I am taught I need not care ..... 137 85 185 73 138 i63 t86 17 19S 120 175 62 3 1S9 20 225 121 106 177 222 136 49 117 33 182 45 234 1int)ci to fflrst !ILine6 I never saw a moor .... I said : Sweet Master hear me pray I said : The desert is so wide I seem to halt and yet I know I talked with you to-day, all three . I thank Thee, Lord, for precious things I will not faint, but trust in God . I will not wrong thee, O To-day . I would not chronicle my life If I have faltered more or less If I lay waste and wither up with doubt If only we were worthier found If you have a friend worth loving . Inaudible voices call us, and we go In a dry old mow that was once, alas ! . In sheltered gardens valleys lie In summer and winter, in calm and storm In the nine heavens are eight Paradises . In the old days God and His angels oft . In the still air the music lies unheard It is time to be old .... It may seem a noble thing It was not a day of feasting . Joy, what art thou ? tell me . Last night I stole away alone, to find Lend a hand ! Do not think because yours i small ...... Let me go where'er I will . . . PAGE 176 208 10 123 35 201 97 75 91 96 23 21 116 132 17 53 204 61 50 228 156 180 94 93 27 ■ffnDej to Jirst Xines 235 Like the lark, like the lark . . . . Little thinks in the field, yon red-cloaked clown ..... Lord, according to Thy words Lord, if there be, as wise men spake Lord, for the erring thought . Lord, many times I am aweary quite Lord, send Thy light Lord, we are rivers running to Thy sea Lord, what a change within us one short hour Lord, with what body do they come Love bade me welcome ; yet my soul drew back ..... Love, to be love, must walk Thy way Many a wrong, and its curing song My all I carry with me everywhere My child is lying on my knees My life is long. Not so the angels say My sun has crossed the high meridian line My vineyard that is mine I have to keep " My way to Christ," said Cleon, " lies Myriad roses, unregretted, perish in their ver nal state ..... No fate, save by the victim's fault, is low None other Lamb, none other name Not Fortune's slave is man ; our state . Not only those above us on the height . O brother man ! fold to thy heart thy brother O dear Lord, we know what death is worth PAGE 60 65 103 76 119 106 IIO 32 172 158 S? 165 228 114 150 226 222 41 161 199 124 139 1 84 98 84 114 236 UnDex to jFirst Xines O Friend of souls ! how blest the time . O God, whose thoughts are brightest light O Lord, I cannot plead my love of Thee O Lord, fulfil Thy will .... O Thou the Lord and Maker of life and light O wondrous fair Jerusalem O years gone down into the past . Of fret, of dark, of thorn, of chill . Oh ! lead me, Lord, that I may lead Oh, sure I am the draught is sweet Once I sat on a crimson throne One deed may mar a life One smile can glorify a day . One, with a sudden cry .... Over and over again .... Rabbi Jehosha used to say " Rejoice ! " said one, with a sigh . Selfish good may not befall . She sat within Life's banquet hall at noon Since I am coming to that holy room Since Thy hand presents this cup . Slowly the hours ..... Sometimes, when rude, cold shadows run Son of the carpenter, receive Still hope ! still act ! Be sure that life . Strive ; yet I do not promise . Sweet is the solace of Thy love Sweet, so sweet, it is to know PAGE 207 112 149 52 146 143 202 88 29 209 220 7 32 107 27 14 121 186 40 221 85 24 197 213 80 72 81 fltiDei to 3First Xlnes 237 The dead leaves their mosaics The fool asks, "With what flesh, in joy o pain .... The graves grow thicker, and life's ways bare ..... The homely words, how often read The lightning and thunder The memory of a kindly word The path I tread seems often bare . The rain may fall in constant showers The thought of God, the thought of Thee The times of old bright pictures bring The watch is long, the watch is late The winter cometh, whence Tlie woman singeth at her spinning-wheel There are days of silent sorrow There is a rest that deeper grows There is no day so dark There is no unbelief They neither toil nor spin They talk of short-lived pleasure, — be it This world is not conclusion . Thou Grace Divine, encircling all Thou hast done well to kneel and say Thou one all-perfect light Three things Theodosius purposed Through love to light ! Oh, wonderful the way Time was, I shrank from what was right To fight aloud is very brave . To give is better than to know or see PAGB 126 42 48 164 I 78 89 140 46 131 124 2 166 218 77 133 95 152 78 195 26 92 44 90 238 f nJ)ej to fffrst %ines PAGE Toil is sweet, for Thou hast toiled . . 227 To-night, my soul, be still and sleep . . 37 To weary hearts, to mourning homes . .118 Walking with patience where the way is rough 36 Walk thy way greatly. So do thou endure . 200 We cannot kindle when we will . . .181 We doubt the word that tells us : ask . . 181 We dwell with fears on either hand . . 66 We feel we are nothing — for all is Thou and in Thee ...... 125 Well, it is gone at last, the palace of music I reared ....... 128 What are we set on earth for ? Say, to toil . 28 What is it Jesus saith unto the soul ? . .214 What is the beginning ? Love. What the course ? Love still .... 67 What though the way be uphill, bare, and lone 173 When apple blossoms in the Spring . . 215 Whene'er a noble deed is wrought . . 38 When the seeds were ready, one by one . 163 Where does the snow go ? . . . . 102 Whichever way the wind doth blow . . 43 Who fathoms the Eternal Thought ? . . 191 Who knows ? God knows and what He knows is best ....... 134 Within the Eternal Heart I strove to lose my soul ....... 34 Would a man 'scape the rod ? . . -155 Deacidified using the Bookkeeper process. Neutralizing agent: Magnesium Oxide Treatnnent Date: Jan. 2009 PreservationTechnologies A WORLD LEADER IN COLLECTIONS PRESERVATION in Thomson Park Drive Cranberry Township, PA 16066 (724) 779-2111 LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 013 997 463 3