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 POEMS 
 
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 Hranoces Riptey Havercan 
 
 WITH A SKETCH OF HER LIFE 
 
 
 
 ASTLEY CHURCH, THE RECTORY, AND CHURCHYARD 
 i The Early Home and Resting Place of F.R.H. The Tomb is beneath the spreading fir tree 
 
 NEW YORK 
 E. P. DUTTON & COMPANY 
 
 39 WEST 23D STREET 
 1882 
 

 
 By E. P. DUTTON & 
 
 PRESS OF J. J. LITTLE & CO, - 
 NOS. 10 TO 20 ASTOR PLACE, NEW YORK. 
 

 

 
 in 
 
 
 
 
ODP Be 
 
 HER LIFE AND WORK. 
 
 AstLEY, Worcestershire, England, is a quiet inland 
 village, too small to be found on any but a county map, 
 too like scores of its neighbors to require a detailed de- 
 scription. It lies on the bank of the Severn, sheltered by 
 the picturesque Malvern Hills ; its chief charm, to Amer- 
 ican eyes, being the light mould of antiquity that still 
 clings about it, despite some fresh breezes of modern in- 
 novation. It has divers quaint, weather-beaten cottages, 
 an ancient manor, and traces—or, at least, traditions—of 
 an “‘alien priory,” founded in 1160. . The church, dedi- 
 cated to St. Peter, is low-roofed and ivy-grown ; its square, 
 battlemented, Saxon tower reckons its age in centuries, 
 yet is sound and hearty still. Here William Henry 
 Havergal, poet and musician as well as priest, faithfully 
 ministered to his small rural congregation for more than 
 twenty years; and in the adjacent rectory, so pleasantly 
 sequestered amid its vines and flowers and overshadowing 
 trees, he wrote sermons, hymns, and music, and reared 
 six active, clever children,—the youngest of whom was 
 Frances Ridley Havergal, born December 14th, 1836. 
 
 , Vv 
 
vil F. R. H.—HER LIFE AND WORK. 
 
 As seen through the loving recollections of friends, 
 she was a child of rare grace and beauty; fair-complex- 
 ioned, sunny-haired, with an expression at once sweet and 
 vivacious. In spite of her extreme mental precocity—as 
 shown in reading easy books when three years old, and 
 beginning her first manuscript book of verses at seven— 
 she was full of life and spirits, winning the pet names of 
 “Fairy ” and “ Little Quicksilver” by her lightsome grace 
 and agility, and distinguishing herself no less in wild 
 tree-climbing and wall-scaling than in picking up German 
 from lessons given in her hearing to her older brothers 
 and sisters, 
 
 Though generally sweet-tempered and affectionate, she 
 was by no means the model child of the goody-goody 
 story-books ; she says of herself that she “utterly abom- 
 inated being ‘ talked to,’” and would “do anything on 
 earth to escape” kindly-meant admonitions, unhesitat- 
 ingly adducing any slight scratch or bruise as a reason 
 why she could not possibly kneel down to be prayed for. 
 As she grew older, she had frequent fits of unhappiness 
 and penitence, called forth by a sermon, a book, or, more 
 frequently, by a lovely bit of nature: for, reversing the 
 usual order, she seems to have been more sensitive to the 
 influences of natural beauty in early than in later life, or 
 she became so much more sensitive to others that these 
 appeared weak in comparison. The skies and clouds 
 were like friends to the impressionable, imaginative child ; 
 golden light, swaying boughs, and shadow-mottled grass 
 always touched and subdued her: a distant hill-top, seen 
 between smoke-begrimed walls, furnished ample foothold 
 for a whole legion of thoughts and fancies: albeit she 
 
 
 
F. R. H.—HER LIFE AND WORK. . vii 
 
 utters a whimsical complaint that these inanimate 
 creatures often reminded her of their Creator with an 
 -almost irritating pertinacity! It is ay well that few chil- 
 dren look so deeply into a landscape, or are disturbed by 
 such solemn voices. 
 
 She early decided that to be a Christian was the most 
 desirable thing in life, even while taking a ‘‘sort of sav- 
 age joy” in her own perversity, and despairing of amend- 
 ment. But an unconquerable reserve withheld her from 
 any disclosure of the deeper, gentler moods that now and 
 then filled her young heart with dimly-comprehended 
 pain ; she fancied that she “could as soon speak San- 
 scrit” as utter a word about them to any human being. 
 By reason of this reserve, she was often misjudged—all the 
 more that her natural buoyancy of temperament allowed 
 her to pass quickly from an agony of weeping in her own 
 room toa merry burst of laughter or a sudden light-heeled 
 and light-hearted scamper up and down stairs. ‘‘ Among 
 the best gifts of God to me,” she says later, “‘I count a 
 certain stormy-petrelism of nature, which seems to 
 enable me to skim any waves when I am not actually 
 under them.” 
 
 In 1845, Mr. Havergal, ene received an appointment 
 to the Rectory of St. Nicholas, and become a canon of 
 the Cathedral, removed to the City of Worcester. Here 
 Frances, when scarcely ten years old, began the charitable 
 and missionary labors with which so large a space in her 
 after life was to be filled, by teaching a Sunday School 
 class of still younger children, and organizing herself and 
 a favorite playmate into a ‘‘ Flannel Petticoat Society.” 
 The story of this whole period, its occupations and 
 
Vill F. R. H.—HER LIFE AND WORK. 
 
 interests, trials and enjoyments, is pleasantly told in 
 ‘‘The Four Happy Days,” one of her few published books 
 for children :—seldom does an author take her material 
 so directly from her own heart and life. . 
 
 There is also in existence a fragment of autobiography, 
 which deals almost exclusively with inward struggles and 
 difficulties, and gives a singularly clear picture of the 
 thoughtful phases of a child’s mind. The tender, self- 
 tormenting conscience ; the scornful overlooking of home 
 examples of goodness for those farther off and less known ; 
 the unreasoning expectation of being set right and made 
 happy as quickly as a turn of the hand substitutes one 
 kaleidoscopic figure for another; the vain attempt to 
 force reluctant trains of thoaght into heavenward channels 
 by pious ejaculations which neither come from, nor pen- 
 etrate far into, the disquieted heart ; the refusal to accept 
 aught but certainty and perfection at an age when faith 
 and immaturity are alone possible; all these touches are 
 inimitable in their life-likeness and suggestiveness. At 
 the same time, it is easy to see—what the discouraged 
 young penitent was slow to discover—that the divine 
 paradox, ‘“‘ Work out your own salvation ”—“ for it is God 
 who worketh in you,” was only getting its necessary 
 illustration in her person. 
 
 But nothing in the autobiography itself gives so vivid 
 a conception of its writer’s instinctive habit of reserve, 
 and of the strong contrast between her outward careless- 
 ness and inward disquietude, ag the fact that it was writ- 
 ten to prove to an elder sister, upon occasion, that her 
 childhood was not without its softer, soberer side ; its 
 thoughts, if not deeds, of grace! This fact is especially 
 
 
 
F. R. H.—HER LIFE AND WORK. ix 
 
 worth noting, in connection with the frank and free way 
 with which she spoke of her spiritual experiences in after 
 years, when persuaded that such frankness might be help- 
 ful to others. Plainly, it was not a grace in herself, nor 
 a gift to them, which cost her nothing. 
 
 Unlike most home-petted girls, she was “delighted ” 
 to go to boarding-school, first in England, afterward in 
 Germany. At the former, without attempting to fix any 
 date of conversion, she began to ‘‘have conscious faith 
 and hope in Christ ;” at the latter, she found the indif- 
 ference, not to say enmity, of her foreign schoolmates to 
 religion ‘‘very bracing,” forcing her to keep careful 
 watch over herself lest any slip or failure should bring 
 discredit on her profession. Under the stimulating influ- 
 ences of new scenes, a foreign language, and unac- 
 customed methods of instruction, her mind developed 
 rapidly, as shown by some curiously mature reflections on 
 leaving school, always a momentous epoch in a young 
 girl’s life. Yet she did not make the common mistake 
 of thinking her education finished, but threw herself 
 with enthusiasm into an advanced course of study, under 
 the supervision of a German “ Pastor.” In truth, she 
 had a life-long thirst for knowledge, which she strove to 
 slake at every available fount within her reach. arly 
 or late, she studied—in most cases mastered—French, 
 German, Italian, Latin, Greek, and Hebrew; in Wales, 
 she learned enough Welch from her donkey-girl to be 
 able to join intelligently in the Sunday services; at the 
 sea-shore, she was eager for nautical information ; she 
 taught herself harmonics by reading a chapter from a 
 ‘¢ Treatise” at night, and mentally working out the ex- 
 
 A* 
 
x F. R. H.—HER LIFE AND WORK. 
 
 
 
 ercises on her pillow; during an Irish expedition, it was 
 noticed that she was less interested in studying the scen- 
 ery than in discussing Hebraic lore with an eminent 
 scholar of the party ; at the same time, she was content 
 to seat herself side by side with the smallest children of 
 the Vicar’s Bible Class, and often afterward referred to 
 the pleasure and benefit derived from his teachings. 
 Like every true lover of knowledge, she was as generous 
 to impart as diligent to acquire, and all through her life 
 gave lessons to those who, by reason of one disability or 
 another, were unable to command professional instruc- 
 tion. How diligently and systematically she “searched 
 the Scriptures,” can only be understood by those who 
 have seen pages of her Bible—so crowded with lines and 
 cross-lines of reference and annotation as to be well-nigh 
 uninteiligible to other eyes than her own, though done 
 with the perfection of neatness—a characteristic, by the 
 way, of all her work. Her musical and literary manu- 
 scripts were beautifully clear and correct, and must have 
 been the delight of editors and compositors; most re- 
 markable of all, her needlework was equally perfect, 
 ‘from the oft-despised darning to the most delicate lace 
 and embroidery.” : 
 
 Returning to England, and ripening into womanhood, 
 she naturally became the object of much social attention 
 and admiration. Portraits taken of her at this time 
 show a singularly attractive figure and face; the one 
 slender and graceful as a flower-stem, the other fresh and 
 bright as the flower itself. An acquaintance still keeps 
 green the memory of their first meeting : 
 
 - “Tn a few seconds Miss Frances, carolling like 8 bird, flashed 
 
 
 
se 
 
 F. R. H.—HER LIFE AND WORK. x1 
 
 
 
 into the room! Flashed ! yes, I say the word advisedly, flashed in 
 like a burst of sunshine, like a hillside breeze, and stood before us, 
 her fair sunny curls falling round her shoulders, her bright eyes 
 dancing, and her fresh sweet voice ringing through the room, . 
 
 I sat perfectly spellbound as she sang chant and hymn with marvel- 
 ous sweetness, and then played two or three pieces of Handel, 
 which thrilled me through and through. . . . One felt, all the 
 time, that there must be the music of God’s own love in that fair 
 singer’s heart, and that so there was joy in her face, joy in her 
 words, joy in her ways.” 
 
 Seeing her at once so charming and so gifted, one feels 
 how fortunate—nay, how providential—was her carly en- 
 vironment. It would have been so easy for her to be- 
 come the petted darling of society, or the flattered leader 
 of a coterie, without nobler motive for action, nor higher 
 measure of attainment than the gratification of the pass- 
 ing moment; yet, so far as we can judge, she was never 
 greatly tempted by this sort of ambition. The inftu- 
 ences of her home were all of a counteractive tendency, 
 and were helped by her intellectual tastes and culture. 
 That she did not wholly escape les défauts de ses qua- 
 lités may be inferred from occasional references to the 
 power of worldly friends and lamentations over the in- 
 roads of worldly pleasures. Life, on the whole, was a 
 very enjoyable thing to her; she drank eagerly of the 
 full, sweet, exhilarating cup, and only now and then 
 stopped to think of the dregs at bottom, to listen to the 
 old, wailing, rebuking inner voice that would not leave 
 her quite alone, but continually stirred her up to new 
 longings, new seekings, new strivings after the higher, 
 holier life of her dreams and her desires. What if also 
 to new failures, new discouragements, new faithlessness ? 
 
xii F. BR. H.—HER LIFE AND WORK. 
 
 
 
 on ee Es 
 
 The wave that climbs the shore ever slides back again, 
 
 and its effort seems to have been in vain; yet the tide — 
 
 rises! Slowly, surely, one by one, the rocks, the wrecks, 
 the seaweed and the slime, sink out of sight, and the re- 
 joicing sea rolls its victorious waters unhindered, un- 
 broken, over them all. 
 
 From her father, who declined the chair of music at 
 Oxford, Miss Havergal inherited such decided musical 
 talent that she at one time thought of making it her 
 life-vocation, being encouraged thereto by Hiller, whose 
 judgment she sought upon her works. Her touch upon 
 the piano was not only technically free and brilliant, but 
 ‘cinstinct with soul;” and her voice had that sweet and 
 sympathetic quality which satisfies both the critical and 
 the uncultured ear. She was an acceptable solo singer 
 in charitable and philharmonic concerts, choirs, and pri- 
 vate entertainments ; she wrote songs and hymn-tunes, 
 adapted to her own words and those of others ; she acted 
 as organist, at need; she trained missionary and yolun- 
 tary choirs ; she assisted in the editing of the hymnal, 
 ‘Songs of Grace and Glory;” and, after her father’s 
 death, she took up his unfinished work, preparing ‘‘ Hay- 
 ergal’s Psalmody” for the press, and contributing to its 
 contents. She could play from memory all of Handel’s 
 music (in which she especially delighted), and much of 
 Mendelssohn’s and Beethoyen’s. Her rendering of the 
 ‘* Moonlight Sonata” was pronounced “ perfect :”—how 
 she attained to such perfection is told in her poem of the 
 same name, which, like all her works, is largely autobi- 
 ographical. 
 
 Her first consciousness of the power to create melody 
 
 
 
owe, 
 
 - , ‘ts - 
 
 F. BR. H.—HER LIFE AND WORK. Xili 
 
 
 
 and harmony, as well to interpret them, seems to have 
 lifted her a little off her balance ; she says that she forgot 
 the Giver, and found such delight in the gift that ‘other 
 things paled before it.” She also alludes to the “ de- 
 licious delusion” of public applause ; but in better mo- 
 ments she prays that the gift of song may be withdrawn 
 if it is really a snare and a hindrance, that she ‘may be 
 made white at any cost.” In good time the prayer was 
 answered, not by withdrawing the gift, but by enabling 
 her so to consecrate it to the Master’s service that she 
 could write : 
 
 «« Tateral ‘singing for Jesus’ is to me, somehow, the most. per- 
 sonal and direct commission I hold from my beloved Master; and 
 my opportunities for it are often most curious, and have been greatly 
 blessed; every line in my little poem, ‘Singing for Jesus,’ is from 
 personal experience.” 
 
 Often, when asked to sing, she sent such songs as 
 Mendelssohn’s ‘‘ Woe unto them,” “The Lord is mind- 
 ful of His own,” or Handel’s ‘‘Comfort ye,” ‘‘ Rest in 
 the Lord,” ringing through crowded drawing-rooms with 
 such power and pathos that all sounds were hushed, all 
 hearts touched, and many sought the singer to learn, if 
 possible, the secret of their musical and spiritual effect- 
 iveness. ‘“‘I prefer to sing Scripture words,” she once 
 explained, “‘ because He did not promise that owr words 
 should not return to Him void.” 
 
 Few persons will need to be told that such thorough self- 
 consecration, such willing self-effacement for God’s glory, 
 was not reached all at once, nor by rapid and easy stages. 
 Signal success is rarely won except through loss and fail- 
 ure. - The soul’s shapeliest temples rise on sites strewn 
 
 
 
XIV F. BR. H.—HER LIFE AND WORK. 
 
 
 
 with the ruins of earlier erections; their materials, like 
 those of certain old-world churches, have been wrought 
 over from walls once dedicated to pagan gods, ‘That 
 Miss Havergal knew how to suffer intensely, profoundly, 
 womanly, from other than spiritual causes, is plain to 
 all who can “‘read between the lines” of even her pub- 
 lished works. There are references to ‘‘ transgression of 
 the first great commandment of the Law ;” to the deep 
 darkness of “ unseen trials,” which cannot be told to the 
 nearest friend, and can only be ‘‘ wordlessly laid before 
 God ;” to atime of ‘‘ unmitigated suffering,” when her 
 natural stormy-petrelism of character forsook her utterly, 
 and she ‘‘ felt crushed and forsaken of all or any help or 
 cheer,” which need no definite explanation to be pro- 
 foundly suggestive. More than one “turned lesson” was 
 hers before she learned to interpret the significance of 
 such dispensations for others. Never did poet more truly 
 ‘learn in suffering what she taught in song ;” never did 
 Christian more literally obey the injunction, ‘‘ What I 
 tell thee in darkness, that speak ye in light.” ‘The lesson 
 once mastered, the suffering endured, the darkness passed 
 through, she entered into possession of such fullness of 
 
 knowledge, such depth of joy, such uncloudedness of 
 
 light, as to be made a veritable beacon on a hilltop to 
 others. Had her life been shut in by closer domestic 
 ties, it could not have shed abroad so free and wide an 
 illumination. Not that she suffered from lack of home 
 affections ; similarity of tastes and occupations made the 
 companionship of her father an ever-growing delight ; 
 her devotion to her stepmother was something unique ; 
 and after both had gone before her into the ‘‘ many man- 
 
 ee 
 
F. R. H.—HER LIFE AND WORK. XV 
 sions,” her relations with her unmarried elder sister left 
 little to be desired, in point of strength, intimacy, or ten- 
 derness, While there was room in her sympathies for the 
 the needs, sins, and sorrows of the whole world, she was 
 none the less a charming home-companion, full of win- 
 some gayety and original humor, unselfish and respon- 
 sive, with a light foot and ready hand for every dainty 
 ministry and loving service. The inward “twilight 
 gropings,” the doubts and difficulties, of her earlier years, 
 seem never to have cast any extended shadow over her 
 outer life ; and when she had won through them into the 
 clear Beyond of unfaltering faith and confidence, friends 
 and strangers alike seem to be at a loss for words strong 
 enough to picture the brightness of her face, the charm 
 of her ‘‘sunshiny ways.” It should be well understood 
 that hers was never the so-called doubt of the present day 
 —which would better be termed denial, so little of con- 
 scious dubiousness is there in its bold assumptions and 
 assertions—but the offspring of a fastidious standard and 
 a self-distrustful spirit, with a clearer sight of God’s jus- 
 tice than His mercy, a truer conception of His sov- 
 ereignty than His fatherhood. She didnot doubt Scrip- 
 ture promises and verities, but only her own fitness for 
 laying hold of the former and bringing forth fruit unto 
 the latter. 
 
 It would be hard to tell when her poetic talent was first 
 made manifest. If she did not “ lisp in numbers,” she 
 very early began to string rhymes together in friendly 
 letters, and to write verses for family festivals and anni- 
 yersaries. Some of these early productions are still in 
 existence, and even in print; they belong to the order of 
 
xvi F. R. H.—HER LIFE AND WORK. 
 
 things which undiscriminating affection does not will- 
 ingly let die. Her first formal début as a poetess was 
 about 1860, in the columns of ‘‘ Good Words ;” thence- 
 forward she went on adding grace to grace Ae strength 
 to strength of poetic skill and fervor, till capable of the 
 sustained flight of ‘‘'The Thoughts of God,” and the va- 
 ried melody and deep insight of ‘‘ Loyal Responses.” 
 Many of the latter have become household words not only 
 in human homes, but in sacred temples ; more than once 
 their author knew the awed blissfulness of hearing her 
 own hymns and tunes sung to the praise of Him that in- 
 habiteth eternity. 
 
 In the widely known ‘‘ Consecration Hymn,” she 
 builded better than she knew. Writing it in an outburst 
 of joy at having been permitted to be instrumental in the 
 conversion of dear friends, she did not at first compre- 
 hend all that was implied in its quickly improvised coup- 
 lets, but year by year a deeper interpretation, a fuller sig- 
 nificance, were revealed to her ; and it is good to see how 
 unshrinkingly, even joyously, she followed wherever the 
 new light led, at whatever sacrifice. ‘‘A Song in the 
 Night” was dictated to her sister during a severe illness 
 in the Wengen Alps—a tour in search of health having 
 suddenly left her stranded on a sick bed. ‘Tell it out 
 among the Heathen ” was written, both words and music, 
 one Sunday morning, when she was unable to go to 
 church. Her friends left her in bed, but found her at 
 the piano, singing her new possession in a brisk, ringing 
 time, that was really electrifying. Many of her poems 
 
 have equally interesting histories, but here is not time nor 
 place for telling them. 
 
 
 
F. R. H.—HER LIFE AND WORK. Xvi 
 
 
 
 It is scarcely necessary to say that she wrote with extra- 
 ordinary ease and fluency ; but she best tells her story: 
 
 ‘‘T have a curious vivid sense, not merely of my verse faculty in 
 general being given me, but also of every separate poem or hymn, 
 nay every line, being given. . . . The Master has not put a 
 chest of poetic gold into my possession, and said, ‘ Now use it as you 
 like!’ But He keeps the gold, and gives it me piece by piece, just 
 when He will and as much as He will, and no more. : 
 
 - . . ‘*I can never set myself to write verse. I believe my 
 King suggests a thought and whispers me a musical line or two, and 
 then I look up and thank Him delightedly, and go onwithit. That 
 is how the hymns and poems come. Just now there is silence.” 
 
 At one time there was a long silence—about five years— 
 which, nevertheless, is eloquent enough to those who 
 have ears to hear. But the power returned as suddenly 
 as it went; one night a poem shot into her mind, 
 *“ Minerva fashion, full-grown.”  ‘‘ All my best have 
 come in that way,” she says. 
 
 She does nof tell us how her prose came to her, but it 
 is full of felicitous expressions and original thoughts. 
 Her ‘‘ Letters from Switzerland ” give delightful descrip- 
 tions of scenery and incident; at the same time, they 
 show how quick she was to discover spiritual analogies in 
 material things. In her series of ‘‘ Royal” books, “‘ Kept 
 for the Master’s use,” etc., the style is clear, direct, for- 
 cible, as suits the subject and the intent, making them 
 the cherished companions and teachers of devout hearts 
 and minds. ‘‘ Morning Bells” and “ Little Pillows” 
 show how well she understood childhood’s needs. 
 
 But she will be best and longest known by her poems. 
 Their special field is wide; in them, almost every phase 
 
XVili Fr. R. H.—HER LIFE AND WORK. 
 
 and tendency of Christian life and growth is revealed to 
 itself and to others. Their power to soften, to soothe, to 
 inspire, to warn, to uplift, is acknowledged by thousands 
 of loving readers, who will give them a high place in the 
 religious poetry of the age. A just criticism will find in 
 them much to commend, a generous one much to ad- 
 mire, a forbearing one something to condone. Miss 
 Havergal’s talent could not quite escape paying the pen- 
 alty of its versatility ; who would do many things well 
 must consent to do some things—not il, but not pet 
 fectly. Yet the beauties, the excellences, everywhere 
 outnv nber the flaws in her poems ; they improve on ac- 
 quaintance ; it is not so much a sudden as a gradual 
 sense of enrichment that comes to us in reading them. 
 The tone is uniformly healthy; she could never have 
 wished to blot out a line that she had written. 
 
 But her best achievement, her best legacy, was her 
 character and life. As ‘‘a babe in the spiritual life,” 
 she longed ‘‘to grow up in Him,” and seldom is prayer 
 more abundantly answered. In the light of her mature 
 faith, even shadows ceased to have any distinct outline; 
 when confronted with sudden trial and disappointment, 
 she could say, ‘‘ ‘Thy will be done’ is not a sigh, but 
 only a song!” She was always busy, yet seldom hurried ; 
 she “‘redeemed the time,” yet lived “ without careful- 
 ness ;” she was ever at work for the public weal and 
 pleasure, yet never failed to respond to every private 
 claim, every individual demand for aid and sympathy. 
 As her life goes on to maturity, one is simply amazed to 
 read of the missionary and charitable societies of which 
 she was an active member—of the Bible Classes, Sunday 
 
 
 

 
 F. R. H.—HER LIFE AND WORK. xix 
 
 Schools, cottage visitations, charitable collections, hymn- 
 meetings, servants’ classes, etc., that she carried on side 
 
 _ by side with her literary and musical labors. Added to 
 
 all this was a large and varied correspondence ; friends 
 and strangers were continually writing to her for advice, 
 sympathy, criticism, revision, explanation, and receiving 
 from her kindly, conscientious answers, till it is no won- 
 der to see, in her ‘‘ Journal of Mercies,” the pathetic en- 
 try—‘‘ A little respite from letter-writing.” | Nothing 
 but the most untiring industry, and great buoyancy of 
 temperament, could have carried her through such an 
 amount of work, with its inevitable drain on the emo- 
 tional, no less than the physical nature. No wonder that 
 she longed for ‘‘a lull in life,” that she wrote—‘‘ While 
 most thankful for success, I am almost alarmedly won- 
 dering whereunto this work will grow. Yet oh, how one 
 wants to have Him make the most of all that we have 
 and are !” 
 
 It is a life on which one loves to linger, but we must 
 hasten to the end. In October, 1878, she and her sister 
 established themselves at Caswell Bay, Swansea, Wales, 
 partly for the benefit of the sea air, partly for a few 
 months of workful (not restful) quiet. A cold, resulting 
 from exposure at an out-door meeting, developed painful 
 and alarming symptoms. When her friends were dis- 
 tressed to see her suffer, she hushed them with, “ It’s 
 home the faster.”” When told that the inflammation was 
 increasing, she answered, “If I am really going, it is too 
 good to be true.” Once she whispered, ‘‘ Splendid to be 
 so near the gates of heaven,” and often was heard mur- 
 muring, “‘So beautiful to go!” Toward the last, she 
 
XxX F, R. H.—HER LIFE AND WORK. 
 
 
 
 sang ‘clearly but faintly ” a verse of a favorite hymn, to 
 one of her own tunes: ‘‘Jesus, I will trust Thee.” 
 
 «« And now,” says her sister, “‘she looked up steadfastly, 
 as if she saw the Lord ; and surely nothing less heavenly 
 could have reflected such a glorious radiance upon her 
 face. For ten minutes we watched that almost visible 
 meeting with her King, and her countenance was so glad, 
 as if she were already talking to Him! ‘Then she tried 
 to sing ; but after one sweet, high note, her voice failed ; 
 and, as her brother commended her soul into her 
 Redeemer’s hand, she passed away.” 
 
 She had taken “‘ the one grand step beyond the stars of 
 God ;” she had exchanged the broken note, the unfinished 
 earthly melody, for the full chord and wondrous harmony 
 of the ‘‘new song” in Paradise. ‘‘I have such a craving 
 for the music of heaven,” she had once said ;—can any 
 human imagination picture the blessedness of satisfaction 
 which quenched that thirst ? 
 
 She died on the 3d of June, 1879. On the 9th, she 
 was laid to rest, under wreaths of flowers, laurels, and bay- 
 leaves, in Astley churchyard, very near the home, the 
 church, and the friends of her childhood. On her tomb, 
 at her own request, was engraven the text which she had 
 found especially healing and precious, a very key-word of 
 faith and hope : 
 
 ‘* The blood of Jesus Christ, His Son, cleanseth us from 
 all sin.” —I. John i, 7. 
 
 W. My Tad 
 
 
 
 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 THE poetical works of Frances Ridley Havergal steadily 
 grow in favor. Hitherto, tney have been obtainable only 
 in two or more volumes ; there is a demand for an edi- 
 tion which shall bring within the compass of a single 
 cover all that are of interest to the public. The present 
 collection has been made by a loving and reverent hand. 
 No poem has been changed, none mutilated; and the 
 work of exclusion has concerned itself chiefly with the 
 unripe productions of early years, or those of too per- 
 sonal or local a character to be of general interest. We 
 think that neither the devout nor the poetical reader 
 will miss anything which has won, or is likely to win, 
 his affections. 
 
 The order of arrangement is not strictly chronological. 
 The poems under the head of ‘‘The Ministry of Song” 
 were the first published ; but we have preferred to open 
 the volume with those riper fruits of Miss Havergal’s 
 
 genius which came next, with the general title, ‘‘ Under 
 ; Xxi 
 

 
 XXii PREFACE. 
 
 the Surface.” Ail poems, of whatever date, which did 
 not fall naturally under other heads are classed as 
 ‘¢ Miscellaneous ;” while in ‘‘ Under His Shadow” and 
 ‘“Closing Chords” will be found the latest and maturest 
 of her works, even to the final penciled fragment, so 
 pathetically ending with what was meant for a beginning, 
 which seems as if written within the very shadow of the 
 pearly gates that she was so soon to enter. 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
eae. 
 he oe 
 
 LIFE-MOSAIC. 
 
 ASTER, to do great work for Thee my hand 
 Is far too weak. Thou givest what may suit— 
 
 Some little chips to cut with care minute, 
 Or tint, or grave, or polish. Others stand 
 Before their quarried marble fair and grand, 
 
 And make a life-work of the great design 
 
 Which Thou hast traced ; or, many-skilled, combine 
 To build vast temples, gloriously planned. 
 Yet take the tiny stones that I have wrought, 
 
 Just one by one, as they were given by Thee, 
 Not knowing what came neat in Thy wise thought ; 
 Set each stone by Thy master-hand of grace, 
 
 Form the mosaic as Thou wilt for me, 
 And in Thy temple-pavement give it place. 
 
 1 
 
 
 

 
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 MNDEK LOE SURFACE. 
 
 “*Man’s goings are of the Lord ; how can aman then understand his own way ?‘ 
 -—PRroy,. xx, 24. 
 
 UNDER THE SURFACE. 
 
 I. 
 
 N the surface, foam and roar, 
 Restless heave and passionate dash, 
 Shingle rattle along the shore, 
 Gathering boom and thundering crash, 
 
 | Under the surface, soft green light, 
 : A hush of peace and an endless calm, 
 Winds and waves, from a choral height, 
 Falling sweet as a far-off psalm. 
 
UNDER THE SURFACE. 
 
 
 
 On the surface, swell and swirl, 
 Tossing weed and drifting waif, 
 
 Broken spars that the mad waves whirl, 
 Where wreck-watching rocks they chafe. 
 
 Under the surface, loveliest forms, 
 Feathery fronds with crimson curl, 
 
 Treasures too deep for the raid of storms, 
 Delicate coral and hidden pearl. 
 
 II. 
 
 On the surface, lilies white, 
 A painted skiff with a singing crew, 
 Sky-reflections soft and bright, 
 Tremulous crimson, gold, and blue. 
 
 Under the surface, life in death, 
 Slimy tangle and oozy moans, 
 Creeping things with watery breath, 
 Blackening roots and whitening bones. 
 
 On the surface, a shining reach, 
 
 A crystal couch for the moonbeam’s rest, 
 Starry ripples along the beach, 
 
 Sunset songs from the breezy west. 
 
 Under the surface, glooms and fears, 
 Treacherous currents swift and strong, 
 
 Deafening rush in the drowning ears,— 
 Have ye rightly read my song ? 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 UTOBIOGRAPHY ! So you say, 
 So do I not believe ! 
 For no men or women that live to-day, 
 Be they as good or as bad as they may, 
 Ever would dare to leave 
 In faintest pencil or boldest ink 
 All they truly and really think, 
 What they have said and what they have done, 
 What they have lived and what they have felt, 
 Under the stars or under the sun. 
 At the touch of a pen the dewdrops melt, 
 And the jewels are lost in the grass, 
 Though you count the blades as you pass. 
 At the touch of a pen the lightning is fixed, 
 An innocent streak on a broken cloud ; 
 And the thunder that pealed so fierce and loud, 
 With musical echo is softly mixed. 
 Autobiography ? No! 
 It never was written yet, I trow. 
 Grant that they try ! 
 Still they must fail ! 
 Words are too pale 
 For the fervor and glow of the lava-flow. 
 
 Can they paint the flash of an eye ? 
 
 How much less the flash of a heart, 
 
 Or its delicate ripple and glitter and gleam, 
 Swift and sparkling, suddenly darkling, 
 Crimson and gold tints, exquisite soul-tints, 
 Changing like dawn-flush touching a dream ! 
 
UNDER THE SURFACE. 
 
 Where is the art 
 That shall give the play of blending li ghia 
 From the porphyry rock on the pool below ? 
 Or the bird-shadow traced on the sunlit heights 
 Of golden rose and snow ? 
 
 You say ’tis a fact that the books exist, 
 Printed and published in Mudie’s list, 
 Some in two volumes, and some in one— 
 _ Autobiographies plenty. But look ! 
 I will you what is done 
 By the writers, confidentially ! 
 They cut little pieces out of their lives 
 And join them together, 
 Making them up as a readable book, 
 And call it an autobiography, 
 Though little enough of the life survives. 
 
 What if we went in the sweet May weather 
 To a wood that I know which hangs on a hill, 
 And reaches down to a tinkling brook, 
 That sings the flowers to sleep at night, 
 And calls them again with the earliest light. 
 Under the delicate flush of green, 
 
 Hardly shading the bank below, 
 Pale anemones peep between 
 
 The mossy stumps where the violets grow ; 
 Wide clouds of bluebells stretch away, 
 
 And primrose constellations rise, — 
 
 Turn where we may, 
 Some new loveliness meets our eyes. — 
 
 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 The first white butterflies flit around, 
 Bees are murmuring close to the ground, 
 The cuckoo’s happy shout is heard. 
 Hark again ! 
 ~ Was it echo, or was it bird ? 
 All the air is full of song, 
 A carolling chorus around and above ; 
 From the wood-pigeon’s call so soft and long, 
 To merriest twitter and marvellous trill, 
 Every one sings at his own sweet will, 
 True to the key-note of joyous love. 
 
 Well, it is lovely ! is it not ? 
 But we must not stay on the fairy spot, 
 So we gather a nosegay with care : 
 _ A primrose here and a bluebell there, 
 And something that we have never seen, 
 Probably therefore a specimen rare ; 
 Stitchwort, with stem of transparent green, 
 The white-veined woodsorrel, and a spray 
 Of tender-leaved and budding May. 
 We carry home the fragrant load, 
 In a close, warm hand, by a dusty road ; 
 The sun grows hotter every hour ; 
 Already the woodsorrel pines for the shade ; 
 We watch it fade, 
 And throw away the fair little flower ; 
 We forgot that it could not last an hour 
 Away from the cool moss where it grows. 
 Then the stitchworts droop and close ; 
 There is nothing to show but a tangle of green, 
 For the white-rayed stars will no more be seen. 
 
UNDER THE SURFACE, 
 
 Then the anemones, can they survive ? 
 Even now they are hardly alive. 
 Ha! where is it, our unknown spray ? 
 Dropped on the way ! 
 Perhaps we shall never find one again. 
 At last we come in with the few that are left, 
 Of freshness and fragrance bereft ; 
 A sorry display. | 
 Now, do we say, 
 ‘* Here is the wood where we rambled to-day ? 
 See, we have brought it to you ; 
 Believe us, indeed it is true. 
 This is the wood !” do we say ? 
 
 So much for the bright and pleasant side. 
 There is another. We did not bring 
 All that was hidden under the wing 
 Of the radiant plumaged Spring. 
 
 We never tried 
 To spy, or watch, or away to bear, 
 Much that was just as truly there. 
 
 What have we seen ? 
 
 Hush, ah, hush ! 
 Curled and withered fern between, 
 And dead leaves under the living green, 
 Thick and damp. A clammy feather, 
 All that remains of a singing thrush 
 Killed by a weasel long ago, 
 In the hungry winter weather. 
 Nettles in unfriendly row, 
 And last year’s brambles, sharp and brown, 
 Grimly guarding a hawthorn crown. 
 
 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 9 
 
 
 
 
 
 A pale leaf trying to reach the light 
 
 By a long weak stem, but smothered down, 
 Dying in darkness, with none to see. 
 
 The rotting trunk of a willow tree, 
 Leafless, ready to fall from the bank ; 
 
 A poisonous fungus, cold and white, 
 
 And a hemlock growing strong and rank. 
 A tuft of fur and a ruddy stain, 
 
 Where a wounded hare has escaped the snare, 
 Only perhaps to be caught again. 
 
 No specimens we bring of these, 
 
 Lest they should disturb our ease, 
 
 And spoil the story of the May, 
 
 And make you think our holiday 
 
 Was far less pleasant than we say. 
 
 Ah no! We write our lives indeed, 
 But in a cipher none can read, 
 Except the author. He may pore 
 The life-accumulating lore 
 For evermore, 
 And find the records strange and true 
 Bring wisdom old and new. 
 But though he break the seal, 
 No power has he to give the key. 
 No license to reveal. 
 We wait the all-declaring day, 
 When love shall know as it is known. 
 Till then, the secrets of our lives are ours and God’s 
 alone. ; 
 
10 UNDER THE SURFACE. 
 
 COMPENSATION. 
 
 6 THE compensating springs! O the balance-wheels 
 of life, 
 
 Hidden away in the workings under the seeming strife ! 
 
 Slowing the fret and the friction, weighting the whirl 
 and the force, " 
 
 Evolving the truest power from each unconscious source. 
 
 How shall we gauge the whole, who can only guess a 
 part ? 
 
 How can we read the life, when we cannot spell the 
 heart ? 
 
 How shall we measure another, we who can never know 
 
 From the juttings above the surface the depth of the 
 vein below ? 
 
 Even our present way is known to ourselves alone, 
 
 Height and abyss and torrent, flower and thorn and 
 stone ; 
 
 But we gaze on another’s path as a far-off mountain. 
 scene, 
 
 Scanning the outlined hills, but never the vales between. 
 
 How shall we judge their present, we who have never 
 seen : 
 
 That which is past for ever, and that which might have 
 been ? 
 
 Measuring by ourselves, unwise indeed are we, 
 
 Measuring what we know by what we can hardly see. 
 
 
 
| a dagen haat 
 
 COMPENSATION. et: 
 
 
 
 
 
 Ah! if we knew it all, we should surely understand 
 
 That the balance of sorrow and joy is held with an even 
 hand, 
 
 That the scale of success or loss shall never overflow, 
 
 And that compensation is twined with the lot of high 
 and low. 
 
 The easy path in the lowland hath little of grand or 
 new, 
 
 But a toilsome ascent leads on to a wide and glorious 
 view ; 
 
 Peopled and warm is the valley, lonely and chill the 
 height, 
 
 But the peak that is nearer the storm-cloud is nearer the 
 stars of light. 
 
 Launch on the foaming stream that bears you along like 
 a dart,— - 
 
 There is danger of rapid and rock, there is tension of 
 muscle and heart ; 
 
 Glide on the easy current, monotonous, calm, and slow, 
 
 You are spared the quiver and strain in the sate and 
 quiet flow. 
 
 O the sweetness that dwells in a harp of many strings, 
 
 While each, all vocal with love, in tuneful harmony 
 rings ! | 
 
 But O, the wail and the discord, when one and another 
 is rent 
 
 Tensionless, broken, or lost, from the cherished instru- 
 ment. 
 

 
 12 UNDER THE SURFACE. 
 
 
 
 For rapture of love is linked with the pain or fear of 
 loss, 
 
 And the hand that takes the crown must ache with - 
 many a CToss ; 
 
 Yet he who hath never a conflict hath never a victor’s — 
 palm, 
 
 And only the toilers know the sweetness of rest and calm. 
 
 Only between the storms can the Alpine traveller know 
 Transcendent glory of clearness, marvels of gleam and 
 
 glow ; 
 
 Had he the brightness unbroken of cloudless summer 
 days, 
 
 This had been dimmed by the dust and veil of a brood- 
 ing haze. 
 
 Who would dare the choice, neither or both to know, 
 
 The finest quiver of joy or the agony-thrill of woe ? 
 
 Never the exquisite pain, then never the exquisite bliss, 
 
 For the heart that is dull to that can never be strung to 
 this. 
 
 Great is the peril or toil if the glory or gain be great ; 
 Never an earthly gift without responsible weight ; 
 Never a treasure without a following shade of care ; 
 Never a power without the lurk of a subtle snare. 
 
 For the swift is not the safe, and the sweet is not the 
 strong ; 
 
 The smooth is not the short, and the keen is not the 
 long ; 
 
 
 
COMPENSATION. id i 
 
 
 
 The much is not the most, and the wide is not the deep, 
 And the flow is never a spring, when the ebb is only 
 neap. 
 
 Then hush! oh, hush ! for the Father knows what thou 
 knowest not, 
 
 The need and the thorn and the shadow linked with the 
 fairest lot ; 
 
 Knows the wisest exemption from many an unseen snare, 
 
 Knows what will keep thee nearest, knows what thou 
 couldst not bear. 
 
 Hush! oh, hush ! for the Father portioneth as He will, 
 To all His belovéd children, and shall they not be still ? 
 Is not His will the wisest, is not His choice the best ? 
 And in perfect acquiescence is there not perfect rest ? 
 
 Hush ! oh, hush! for the Father, whose ways are true 
 and just, 
 
 Knoweth and careth and loveth, and waits for thy per- 
 fect trust ; 
 
 The cup He is slowly filling shall soon be full to the 
 brim, 
 
 And infinite compensations for ever be found in Him. 
 
 Hush ! oh, hush! for the Father hath fullness of joy in 
 store, 
 
 Treasures of power and wisdom, and pleasures for ever- 
 more ; 
 
 Blessing and honor and glory, endless, infinite bliss ;-— 
 
 Child of His love and His choice, oh, canst thou not 
 wait for this ? 
 
14 UNDER THE SURFACE. 
 
 
 
 
 
 THE MOONLIGHT SONATA. 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 THE ills we see,— 
 The mysteries of sorrow deep and long, 
 The dark enigmas of permitted wrong,— 
 Have all one key: 
 This strange, sad world is but our Father’s school ; 
 All chance and change His love shall grandly overrule. 
 
 How sweet to know 
 The trials which we cannot comprehend 
 Have each their own divinely-purposed end ! 
 He traineth so 
 For higher learning, ever onward reaching 
 For fuller knowledge yet, and His own deeper teaching. 
 
 He traineth thus 
 That we may teach the lessons we are taught ; 
 That younger learners may be further brought, 
 Led on by us: 
 Well may we wait, or toil, or suffer long, 
 For His dear service so to be made fit and strong. 
 
 He traineth so 
 That we may shine for Him in this dark world, 
 And bear His standard dauntlessly unfurled : 
 That we may show 
 
 
 
te Cees 
 
 THE MOONLIGHT SONATA. 15 
 
 
 
 His praise, by lives that mirror back his love,— 
 His witnesses on earth, as He is ours above. 
 
 Nor only here 
 The rich result of all our God doth teach 
 His scholars, slow at best, until we reach 
 A nobler sphere : 
 Then, not till then, our training is complete, 
 And the true life begins for which He made us meet. 
 
 Are children trained 
 Only that they may reach some higher class ? 
 Only for some few school-room years that pass 
 Till growth is gained ? 
 Is it not rather for the years beyond 
 To which the father looks with hopes so fair and fond ? 
 
 Bold thought, flash on 
 Into the far depths of Eternity ; 
 When Time shall be a faint star-memory, 
 So long, long gone ! 
 Only not lost to our immortal sight, 
 Because it ever bears Redemption’s quenchless light. 
 
 Flash on, and stand 
 Among thy bright companions,—spirits blest, 
 Inhabiting through ages of glad rest 
 The Shining Land ! 
 Kach singing bliss into each other’s hearts, — 
 Outpouring mighty joy that God’s full hand imparts. 
 
16 UNDER THE SURFACE. 
 
 
 
 
 
 If sweet below 
 To minister to those whom God doth love, 
 What will tt be to minister above ! 
 His praise to show 
 In some new strain amid the ransomed choir, — 
 To touch their joy and love with note of living fire ! 
 
 With perfect praise, 
 With interchange of rapturous revelation 
 From Christ Himself, the burning adoration 
 Yet higher to raise, 
 For ever and for ever so to bring | 
 More glory, and still more, to Him, our gracious King ! 
 
 Look on to this 
 Through all perplexities of grief and strife,— 
 To this, thy true maturity of life, 
 Thy coming bliss ; 
 That such high gifts thy future dower may be, 
 And for such service high thy God prepareth thee. 
 
 What though to-day 
 Thou canst not trace at all the hidden reason 
 For His strange dealings through the trial-season,— 
 Trust and obey : 
 And, like the child whose story follows here, 
 In after life and light all shall be plain and clear. 
 
THE MOONLIGHT SONATA. 
 
 ALICEH’S STORY. 
 PART I. 
 
 The firelight softly glanced upon 
 Dark braids and sunny curls, 
 
 Where, in a many-windowed room, 
 
 Yet dim with late November gloom, 
 Were busy groups of girls. 
 
 Some sat apart to learn alone ; 
 
 Some studied side by side ; 
 Some gathered round a master’s chair 
 In reverent silence ; others there 
 
 For readiest answer tried. 
 
 For one young name a summons came, 
 And Alice quickly rose : 
 
 The rapid pen aside is laid ; 
 
 The call once heard must be obeyed 
 At once,—as well she knows. 
 
 Yet with no joyous step or smile 
 She hastens now away, 
 A teacher’s earnest look to meet, 
 Whose hand is filled with music sweet, 
 As hers shall be one day. 
 
 Beside her at the instrument 
 A place her teacher takes, 
 2 
 
 BW, 
 
18 
 
 UNDER THE SURFACE. 
 
 With patient eye, yet keenest ear ; 
 And Alice knows that he will hear 
 The slightest fault she makes. 
 
 Oh, such a music-task as this 
 Was never hers before ! 
 So long and hard, so strange and stern, — 
 A piece she thinks she cannot learn, 
 Though practised o’er and o’er. 
 
 It is not beautiful to her,— 
 
 She cannot grasp the whole: 
 The master’s thought was great and deep,— 
 A mighty storm, to seize and sweep 
 
 The wind-harp of the soul. 
 
 She only plays it note by note, 
 
 With undeveloped heart ; 
 She does not glimpse the splendor through 
 Each chord, so difficult and new, 
 
 Of veiled and varied art. 
 
 Unwonted beat and weird repeat 
 She cannot understand ; 
 She stumbles on with clouded brow, — 
 Her cheek is flushed, and aching now 
 The weary little hand. 
 
 She looked up in her teacher’s face ; 
 Tears were not far away : 
 
 ‘* Must I go on till it is done ? 
 
 Oh, let me change it, sir, for one 
 That I can better play. 
 
 
 
THE MOONLIGHT SONATA. 
 
 
 
 ‘¢T cannot make it beautiful,— 
 It has no tune to sing ; 
 
 And when I am at home, I fear 
 
 My friends will never care to hear 
 This long and dreary thing.” 
 
 He said, “‘If you might freely choose, 
 
 My child, what would you learn ?” 
 «©Oh, I would have the ‘ Shower of Pearls,’ 
 Or ‘Soldiers March,’ like other girls, 
 
 And quick approval earn ; 
 
 “< Or sweet Italian melodies, 
 With brilliant run and shake ; 
 
 If you would only give me such, 
 
 I think that I could please you much,— 
 Such progress I should make.” 
 
 ‘Learn this, and it will please me more,” 
 Said he, with kindest voice : 
 
 «‘ And though ’tis now so hard to play, 
 
 Trust me, you will be glad some day 
 That I have ruled your choice.” 
 
 Tears trembled on the lash, and now 
 His face she could not see ; 
 Once more she pleaded, as they fell, 
 «But I shall never play it well : 
 It is too hard for me!” © 
 
 19 
 
UNDER THE SURFACE. 
 
 
 
 ‘‘One thing I grant,” he said; ‘‘ that you 
 May fully, freeiy tell 
 
 Your father, who is kind and wise : 
 
 And, Alice, what he shall advise, 
 Say, will it not be well ?” 
 
 Again she came, and stumblingly 
 The hard sonata played : 
 
 Another week had passed away, 
 
 With toilsome practice every day, 
 Yet small the progress made. 
 
 Her father’s writing, bold and clear, 
 Lay on the instrument : 
 <‘ Your letter safely came to me, 
 And now shall answer lovingly 
 To my dear child be sent. © 
 
 ‘‘The hardest gained is best retained ; 
 You learn not for to-day : 
 
 I cannot grant your fond request ; 
 
 Your teacher certainly knows best,— 
 So trust him and obey.” 
 
 The teacher spoke ; she listened well, 
 No word of his to miss: 
 
 “* Alice, I want to make of you 
 
 An artist, noble, high, and true ; 
 And no light thing is this. 
 
 
 
THE MOONLIGHT SONATA. 
 
 
 
 « There’s happier, better work in store 
 
 Than merry tunes to play : 
 You have a mission to fulfill,— 
 You do not know it; but I will 
 
 Prepare you as I may. 
 
 *¢ Will you believe that I know best, 
 And persevere, my child ?” 
 
 She answered, with a little sigh, 
 
 “Yes: I will trust, and I will try ;” 
 And then her teacher smiled. 
 
 PART IT. 
 
 Long has the school been left behind, 
 For years have passed away : 
 
 We find her now where evening light 
 
 Fades not into the darksome night, 
 But melts into the day. 
 
 There, in an arched and lofty room, 
 She stands, in fair white dress ; 
 
 Where grace and color and sweet sound 
 
 Combine and cluster all around, 
 And rarest taste express. 
 
 "Tis Alice still, but woman grown 
 In hand and head and heart : 
 
 And those who now around her throng 
 
 Are skilled in music and in song, 
 In learning and in art. 
 
 21s 
 
a2 
 
 UNDER THE SURFACE. 
 
 It was an evening of delight 
 To be remembered long, 
 With many a reach of vivid thought, 
 And many a vision artist-wrought, 
 And—crown of all that friendship brought— 
 The eloquence of song. 
 
 The North is bright, with lingering light 
 To Northern summers given,— 
 A tender loveliness that stays 
 
 ~ When twilight falls upon the days, 
 
 As silence falls in heaven. 
 
 “Now, Alice: now the time is come! 
 Sweet music you have poured ; 
 
 But, in this gentle twilight-fall, 
 
 Give now the very best of all 
 That in your heart is stored. 
 
 ‘‘Give now the Master’s masterpiece ; 
 All silent we will be: 
 
 And you shall stir our inmost souls, 
 
 While, like a fiery river, rolls 
 Beethoven’s harmony. 
 
 An instrument was by her side,— 
 A new and glad possession, 
 Whose perfect answering conveyed 
 Each delicate and subtle shade 
 Of varying expression. 
 
 
 
THE MOONLIGHT SONATA. 
 
 
 
 She needed no reminding score, 
 For memory was true: 
 And what is learnt in childish years, 
 Deep graven on the mind appears 
 Our life’s whole journey through. 
 
 And so she only had to let 
 
 The long-known music flow 
 From happy heart and steady hand, 
 As with a magic flame-command; 
 Enkindling in the listening band 
 
 A full responsive glow. 
 
 Through shade more beautiful than light, 
 Through hush of softest word, 
 Through calm and silence, still and deep 
 As angel-love or seraph-sleep. 
 The opening notes were heard. 
 
 THE SONATA. 
 PART I.—(ADAGIO. ) 
 
 Soft and slow, 
 
 Ever a gentle underflow, 
 Soft and slow, 
 
 Murmuring peacefully on below. 
 
 A twilight song ; while the shadows sleep 
 Dusk and deep, 
 
 20 
 
24 UNDER THE SURFACE. 
 
 Over the fountain, under the fern, 
 Solemn and still; 
 Waiting for moonlight over the hill 
 To touch the bend of the lulling burn, 
 And make it show 
 As a diamond bow, 
 Shooting arrows of glancing light 
 In luminous flight 
 To the gloomy head of the waterfall ; 
 Again to break, 
 In silvery flake, 
 Under the wild and grim rock-wall. 
 A twilight song, a song of love, 
 Softer than nightingale, sweeter than dove ; 
 Loving and longing, loving and yearning, 
 With a hidden flow of electric burning 
 Ever returning ; 
 Melting again in calm repeat, 
 Slow and sweet, 
 Sweet and slow ; 
 While ever the gentle underflow 
 Murmurs lovingly on below, 
 In notes that seem to come from far,— 
 From the setting star 
 In the paling west, 
 Faint and more faint, 
 Like the parting hymn of a dying saint 
 Sinking to rest. 
 
 
 
 A moment of deep hush ; then wakes again, 
 With sudden sparkle of delight, a new and joyous strain. 
 
 
 
THE MOONLIGHT SONATA. 
 
 
 
 PART II1.—(ALLEGRETTO. ) 
 Awake ! awake ! 
 For life is sweet : 
 Awake ! awake ! 
 New hopes to greet. 
 The shadows are fleeting, 
 The substance is sure ; 
 The joys thou art meeting 
 Shall ever endure. 
 Awake ! awake ! 
 For twilight now 
 That veiled the lake 
 Where dark woods bow, 
 In moonlight resplendent 
 Is passing away ; 
 For brightness ascendant 
 Turns night into day. 
 Oh, listen ! yet listen ! 
 The moonlight song 
 Where still waters glisten 
 Is floating along: 
 A melodious ripple of silver sound, 
 In golden rhythm of light-bars bound, 
 Linked with the loveliness all around. 
 A song of hope, 
 That soars beyond 
 The farthest scope 
 Of a vision fond ; 
 While the loneliest silence of solemn night, 
 And the depth of shadow beneath our feet, 
 Only make the song more sweet, — 
 
26 
 
 UNDER THE SURFACE. 
 
 
 
 Only make the sacred light 
 Yet more tender, yet more bright ; 
 And song and radiance both entwining 
 In radiant singing and musical shining 
 Float on and on 
 Till the night is gone, 
 Ever for rest 
 Far too blest. 
 Then wake, then wake 
 From slumberous leisure ! 
 Arise and take 
 . Thy truest pleasure! 
 A life is before thee which cannot decay ; 
 A glimpse and an echo are given to-day 
 Of glory and music not far away. 
 Take the bliss that is offered thee : 
 Hope on, hope ever, and thou shalt be 
 Blest for aye ! 
 
 ree 
 
 Once more a pause is made: 
 While deeper still the silence, deeper yet the shade. 
 
 PART IIl.-(PRESTO AGITATO. ) 
 
 Now in awful tempest swelling, 
 Fallen hosts anew rebelling, 
 Battle shout and lava torrent 
 Mingle in a strife abhorrent. 
 Fiery cataracts are leaping, 
 Passion-driven stars are sweeping 
 
 
 

 
 THE MOONLIGHT SONATA. Qf 
 
 
 
 In a labyrinth of courses ; 
 
 Space is torn with clashing forces : 
 "Tis a fearful new rehearsal 
 
 Of old chaos universal. 
 
 Hush 1 and hark! and hear aright, 
 And you shall know 
 It is not so! 
 ’Tis the roar of chariot wheels, 
 That nothing hinders, nothing bars, 
 Whose flint-sparkles are the stars 
 Flashing bright ; 
 And the mighty thunder-peals 
 Are the trampling of its steeds. 
 On it speeds, 
 Crushing wrongs like river-reeds, 
 By the grandly simple might 
 Of Eternal Right. 
 
 *Tis a song—a battle song,— 
 And a shout of victory, | 
 
 Darting through the conflict strong 
 Terror to the enemy. 
 
 Rising, while the moon is setting 
 That beheld the struggle sore ; 
 
 Rising still, while not forgetting 
 That the battle is not o’er ; 
 
 Rising, while the day is breaking 
 O’er the hills, serene and strong ; 
 
 Rising, while the birds are waking 
 With their myriad-throated song ; 
 
28 
 
 UNDER THE SURFACE. 
 
 Rising ! yet with much to do 
 Ere the strife be ended ! 
 For loud confusion. 
 And wild delusion 
 Are rampant still, and still are blended 
 With the song of triumph bursting through. 
 It rises to fall again ; 
 Falls, but to rise ; 
 Hushed, but to call again 
 Loud to the skies. 
 Resounding like thunder 
 In conquering march, 
 That reverberates under 
 The resonant arch. 
 
 Sternly triumphant o’er wrongful might, 
 In whirlwind of battle, in tempest of fight, 
 See the singers before us, 
 In warrior chorus, 
 Never despairing, 
 Never yielding : 
 Ever preparing 
 And faithfully wielding 
 
 Weapons kept bright, 
 
 And armor of light ; : 
 Shattering barriers that seemed adamantine, 
 Spurning the depth and scaling the height ; 
 While over all the turmoil and fray 
 Shines, in the dawn that heralds the day, 
 Star-lit, a crown amaranthine. 7 
 
 
 
THE MOONLIGHT SONATA. 
 
 Yea: a mighty song, 
 Of joy and triumph strong ; 
 Magnificent in madness, 
 And glorious in gladness. 
 Every obstacle is hurled 
 To an infinite abyss ; 
 Giant standards are unfurled, — 
 Banners of a far-off world 
 Calling followers from this ; 
 Calling, calling: shall it be 
 To noble failure and heroic death ? 
 Lifted with a parting breath, 
 Is the shout of victory 
 Failing fast ? 
 Is the only crown at last 
 Death : death ? 
 No! 
 = Te NOt so 1 
 For light and life 
 End the war and crown the strife. 
 Joy to the faithful one full shall be given ! 
 Rising in splendor that never shall set, 
 The morning of triumph shall dawn on thee yet, 
 When gladness and love for ever have met 
 In heaven. 
 
 
 
 She ended. For a little space 
 The music still seemed swelling ; 
 As it were too sweet and rare 
 Like common sound to leave the air 
 As a deserted dwelling. 
 
 29 
 
30 
 
 UNDER THE SURFACE. — 
 
 
 
 Then, through the flow of loving thanks 
 And murmuring delight, 
 
 And marvel at the Master’s art, 
 
 One rich approval reached her heart 
 More than all else that night. 
 
 One who had also freely brought 
 His own high gift of song, 
 Drew near and spoke: ‘For many a year 
 That marvellous work has been most dear, — 
 Known, loved, and studied long. 
 
 ‘*T own, like you, allegiance true, . 
 And deemed my insight clear ; 
 
 But never guessed until to-night 
 
 The depths of meaning and the might 
 Of what you rendered here. 
 
 “‘The Master has been much to me; 
 But more than ever now I see 
 
 That none there is above him. 
 You have been his interpreter : 
 To you it has been given to stir 
 
 The souls of all who love him.” 
 
 Then swift up-flashed a memory, — 
 A long-forgotten day ; 
 
 A memory of tears once shed, 
 
 Of aching hand and puzzled head, 
 
 And of the father’s word that said, 
 «Trust and obey.” 3 
 
 
 

 
 THE INFINITY OF GOD. 
 
 The lesson learnt in patience then 
 Was lit by love and duty : 
 The toiling time was quickly past, 
 The trnsting time had fleeted fast, 
 And Alice understood at last 
 Its mysteries of beauty. 
 
 O glad, perpetual harvest-time 
 After the sowing days ! 
 For all her life rich joy of sound, 
 And deep delight to loved ones round, 
 And to the Master,—praise ! 
 
 CONCLUSION, 
 
 Ye read her story. 
 Take home the lesson with a spirit-smile : 
 Darkness and mystery a little while, 
 Then—light and glory, 
 Ana ministry *mid saint and seraph band, 
 And service of high praise in the Eternal Land! 
 
 ——$__<0+e—— 
 
 @Our Gov. 
 
 “This God is our God for ever and ever.’’—Ps, xlviii. 14. 
 
 THE INFINITY OF GOD. 
 
 “Too wonderful for me.’’—Ps. cxxxix. 6. 
 
 OLY and Infinite! Viewless, Eternal ! 
 Veiled in the glory that none can sustain, 
 None comprehendeth Thy being supernal, 
 Nor can the heaven of heavens contain. 
 
Ce ee ee eR ies ae eS ae ae 
 
 32 UNDER THE SURFACE. - 
 
 Holy and Infinite! limitless, boundless, 
 
 All thy perfections, and power, and praise ! 
 Ocean of mystery ! awful and soundless 
 
 All thine unsearchable judgments and ways! 
 
 King of Eternity ! what revelation 
 Could the created and finite sustain, 
 
 But for thy marvellous manifestation, 
 Godhead incarnate in weakness and pain ! 
 
 Therefore archangels and angels adore Thee, 
 Cherubim wonder, and seraphs admire ; 
 
 Therefore we praise Thee, rejoicing before Thee, © 
 Joining in rapture the heavenly choir. 
 
 Giorious in holiness, fearful in praises, 
 
 Who shall not fear Thee, and who shall not laud 2 — 
 Anthems of glory Thy universe raises, 
 
 Holy and Infinite! Father and God ! 
 
 
 
 THE SPIRITCALITY, OF Beare 
 
 ‘** God is a Spirit.” —Joun iv. 24. 
 
 HAT know we, Holy God, of Thee, 
 Thy being and Thine essence pure ? 
 Too bright the very mystery 
 For mortal vision to endure. 
 
 
 

 
 THE ETERNITY OF GOD. 
 
 We only know Thy word sublime, 
 
 Thou art a Spirit! Perfect! One ! 
 Unlimited by space or time, 
 
 Unknown but through the eternal Son. 
 
 By change untouched, by thought untraced, 
 And by created eye unseen, 
 
 In Thy great Present is embraced 
 All that shall be, all that hath been. — 
 
 O Father of our Spirits, now 
 We seek Thee in our Saviour’s face ; 
 In truth and spirit we would bow, 
 And worship where we cannot trace. 
 
 
 
 THE ETERNITY OF GOD. 
 
 “The King eternal, immortal, invisible.” —1 Tr. i. 1%. 
 
 ING Eternal and Immortal ! 
 We, the children of an hour, 
 Bend in lowly adoration, 
 Rise in raptured admiration, 
 At the whisper of Thy power.- 
 Myriad ages in Thy sight 
 Are but as the fleeting day ; 
 Like a vision of the night, 
 Worlds may rise and pass away. 
 3 
 
 33 
 

 
 34 UNDER THE SURFACE. 
 
 e-4 - 
 
 All Thy glories are eternal, 
 
 ‘ None shall ever pass away ; ae a 
 Truth and mercy all victorious, 
 Righteousness and love all glorious, 
 
 Shine with everlasting ray: 
 All resplendent, ere the light 
 Bade primeval darkness flee ; 
 All transcendent, through the flight 
 Of eternities to be. 
 
 Thou art God from everlasting, 
 And to everlasting art ! 
 Ere the dawn of shadowy ages, 
 Dimly guessed by angel sages, 
 Hre the beat of seraph-heart ; 
 Thou, Jehovah, art the same, 
 And Thy years shall have no end ; 
 Changeless nature, changeless name, 
 Ever Father, God, and Friend. 
 
 THE SOVEREIGNTY OF GOD. 
 
 ‘* Be still, and know that I am God.”’—Ps. xlvi. 10. 
 
 (eae Almighty ! King of nations! earth Thy foot- 
 stool, heaven Thy throne !. 
 
 Thine the greatness, power, and glory, Thine the king- 
 dom, Lord, alone ! 
 
 
 
THE ESSENTIAL BLESSEDNESS OF GOD. 35 
 
 
 
 Life and death are in Thy keeping, and Thy will or- 
 daineth all, 
 From the armies of Thy heavens to an unseen insect’s fall. 
 
 Reigning, guiding, all-commanding, ruling myriad worlds 
 
 of light ; 
 Now exalting, now abasing, none can stay Thy hand of 
 might ! 
 Working all things ey, Thy power, by the counsel of Thy 
 will, 
 
 Thou art God ! enough to know it, and to hear Thy word : 
 << Be still!” 
 
 In Thy sovereignty rejoicing, we Thy children bow and 
 praise, 
 
 For we know that kind and loving, just and true, are all 
 Thy ways. 
 
 While Thy heart of sovereign mercy, and Thine arm of 
 sovereign might, 
 
 For our great and strong salvation in Thy sovereign grace 
 unite. 
 
 
 
 THE ESSENTIAL BLESSEDNESS OF GOD. 
 
 ‘ Dwelling in the light.”—1 Tim. vi. 16. 
 
 GLORIOUS God and King, 
 O gracious Father, hear 
 The praise our hearts would bring 
 To Thee, who, ever near, 
 Yet in eternity dost dwell, 
 Immortal and invisible. 
 
36 
 
 UR Father, our Father, who dwellest in light, 
 We lean on Thy love, and we rest on Thy might ; 
 In weakness and weariness joy shall abound, 
 For strength everlasting in Thee shall be found : 
 Our Refuge, our Helper, in conflict and woe, 
 Our mighty Defender, how blessed to know 
 
 mat ee ee, SYR es as ee Pa 
 
 
 
 UNDER THE SURFACE, 
 
 Around Thee all is light, 
 And rest of perfect love, 
 And glory full and bright, 
 All human thought above. 
 Thyself the Fountain infinite 
 Of all ineffable delight. 
 
 O depth of holy bliss, 
 Essential and divine, 
 What thought can measure this,— 
 Thy joy, Thy glory,—Thine! 
 Yet such our treasure evermore, 
 Thy fullness is Thy children’s store. 
 
 O Father, Thy great grace 
 
 We magnify and praise ; 
 Called to that blessed place, 
 
 With Thee through endless days 
 Thy joy to share, Thy joy to be, © 
 Thy glory all unveiled to see ! 
 
 
 
 THINE IS THE POWER. 
 
 That Thine is the Power ! 
 
THINE IS THE POWER. 37 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Our Father, Thy promise we earnestly claim, 
 
 The sanctified heart that shall hallow Thy Name, 
 
 In ourselves, in our dear ones, throughout the wide world, 
 Be ‘Thy Name as a banner of glory unfurled; 
 
 Let it triumph o’er evil and darkness and guilt, 
 
 _We know Thou canst do it, we know that thou wilt, 
 
 For Thine is the Power ! 
 
 Our Father, we long for the glorious day 
 When all shall adore Thee, and all shall obey. 
 Oh, hasten Thy kingdom, oh, show forth Thy might, 
 And wave o’er the nations Thy sceptre of right. 
 Oh, make up Thy jewels, the crown of Thy love, 
 And reign in our hearts as Thou reignest above, 
 For Thine is the Power ! 
 
 Our Father, we pray that Thy will may be done, 
 For full acquiescence is heaven begun, — 
 Both in us and by us Thy purpose be wrought, 
 In word and in action, in spirit and thought ; 
 And Thou canst enable us thus to fulfill, 
 With holy rejoicing, Thy glorious will, 
 
 For Thine is the Power! 
 
 Our Father, Thou carest ; Thou knowest indeed 
 
 Our inmost desires, our manifold need ; 
 
 The fount of Thy mercies shall never be dry, 
 
 For Thy riches in glory shall mete the supply : 
 
 Our bread shall be given, our water be sure, 
 
 And nothing shall fail, for Thy word shall endure, 
 And Thine is the Power ! 
 
388 UNDER THE SURFACE. 
 
 
 
 Our Father, forgive us, for we have transgressed, 
 
 Have wounded ‘hy love, and forsaken Thy breast ; 
 
 In the peace of ‘Thy pardon henceforth let us live, 
 
 That through Thy forgiveness we too may forgive ; 
 
 The Son of Thy love, who hath taught us to pray 
 
 For Thy treasures of mercy, hath opened the way, 
 And Thine is the Power ! 
 
 Thou knowest our dangers, Thou knowest our frame, 
 
 But a tower of strength is Thy glorious name ; 
 
 Oh, lead us not into temptation, we pray, 
 
 But keep us, and let us not stumble or stray ; 
 
 Thy children shall under Thy shadow abide ; 
 
 In Thee as our Guide and our Shield we confide, 
 For Thine is the Power ! 
 
 Our Father, deliver Thy children from sin, 
 From evil without and from evil within, 
 From this world, with its manifold evil and wrong, 
 From the wiles of the Evil One, subtle and strong ; 
 Till, as Christ overcame, we, too, conquer and sing, 
 All glory to Thee, our victorious King, 
 
 For Thine is the Power ! 
 
 Our Father, Thy children rejoice in Thy reign, 
 Rejoice in Thy highness, and praise Thee again ! 
 Yea, Thine is the kingdom and Thine is the might, 
 And Thine is the glory transcendently bright ; 
 For ever and ever that glory shall shine, 
 For ever and ever that kingdom be Thine, 
 
 For Thine is the Power ! 
 
 
 
TO THEE. 39 
 
 ®Our Sabiour. 
 
 ** Whom having not seen, ye love.’’—1 PET. i. 8. 
 
 ——-g¢— 
 
 PHEVON EE KEALITY. 
 
 OG-WREATHS of doubt in blinding eddies drifted, 
 tS Whirlwinds of fancy, countergusts of thought, 
 Shadowless shadows where warm lives were sought, 
 Numb feet, that feel not their own tread, uplifted 
 On clouds of formless wonder, lightning-rifted ! 
 What marvel that the whole world’s life should seem, 
 To helpless intellect, a Brahma-dream, 
 From which the real and restful is out-sifted ? 
 Through the dim storm a white peace-bearing Dove 
 Gleams, and the mist rolls back, the shadows flee, 
 The dream is past. A clear calm sky above, 
 Firm rock beneath ; a royal-scrolléd tree, 
 And One, thorn-diademed, the King of Love, 
 The Son of God who gave Himself for me. 
 
 
 
 o+o—___— 
 
 Fo ORIG Goo 
 
 ** Lord, to whom shall we go ?”"—JouN vi. 68. 
 
 ‘T BRING my sins to Thee, 
 
 The sins I cannot count, 
 That all may cleanséd be 
 
 In Thy once opened Fount. 
 
40 
 
 UNDER THE SURFACE, 
 
 I bring them, Saviour, all to Thee, 
 The burden is too great for me. 
 
 My heart to Thee I bring, 
 The heart I cannot read ; 
 A faithless, wandering thing, 
 An evil heart indeed. 
 I bring it, Saviour, now to Thee, 
 That fixed and faithful it may be. 
 
 To Thee I bring my care, 
 The care I cannot fiee ; 
 Thou wilt not only share, 
 But bear it all for me. 
 O loving Saviour, now to Thee 
 I bring the load that wearies me. 
 
 I bring my grief to Thee, 
 The grief I cannot tell ; 
 
 No words shall needed be, 
 Thou knowest all so well. 
 
 I bring the sorrow laid on me, 
 O suffering Saviour, now to Thee. 
 
 My joys to thee I bring, 
 
 The joys Thy love hath given, 
 That each may be a wing 
 
 To lift me nearer heaven. 
 I bring them, Saviour, all to Thee, 
 For Thou hast purchased all for me. 
 
CONFIDENCE. 
 
 My life I bring to Thee, 
 I would not be my own; 
 O Saviour, let me be 
 Thine ever, Thine alone. 
 My heart, my life, my all I bring 
 To Thee, my Saviour and my King! 
 
 
 
 CONFIDENCE. 
 
 I. 
 
 N Thee I trust, on Thee I rest, 
 O Saviour dear, Redeemer blest ! 
 No earthly friend, no brother knows 
 My weariness, my wants, my woes. 
 On Thee I call, 
 Who knowest all. 
 O Saviour dear, Redeemer blest, 
 In Thee I trust, on Thee I rest. 
 
 II. 
 
 Thy power, Thy love, Thy faithfulness, 
 
 With lip and life I long to bless. 
 
 Thy faithfulness shall be my tower, 
 
 My sun Thy love, my shield Thy power, 
 In darkest night, 
 In fiercest fight. 
 
 With lip and life I long to bless 
 
 Thy power, Thy love, Thy faithfulness. 
 
 41 
 
42 
 
 UNDER THE SURFACE. 
 
 lL COULD NOT DO WiTHOCT as. 
 
 COULD not do without Thee, 
 O Saviour of the lost ! 
 
 Whose precious blood redeemed me, 
 At such tremendous cost. 
 
 Thy righteousness, Thy pardon, 
 Thy precious blood, must be 
 
 My only hope and comfort, 
 My glory and my plea! 
 
 I could not do without Thee ! 
 I cannot stand alone, 
 
 I have no strength or goodness, 
 No wisdom of my own. 
 
 But Thou, belovéd Saviour, 
 Art all in all to me; 
 
 And weakness will be power, 
 If leaning hard on Thee. 
 
 I could not do without Thee! 
 For oh! the way is long, 
 
 And I am often weary, 
 And sigh replaces song. 
 
 How could I do without Thee ? 
 I do not know the way ; 
 
 Thou knowest and Thou leadest, 
 And wilt not let me stray. 
 
 a 
 
f ee gee Lah ety oY 
 Z ; ; ’ 
 fi . p 
 o,! | 
 or 
 y 
 
 I COULD NOT DO WITHOUT THEE. 
 
 
 
 I could not do without Thee, 
 O Jesus, Saviour dear! 
 H’en when my eyes are holden, 
 I know that Thou art near. 
 How dreary and how lonely 
 This changeful life would be, 
 Without the sweet communion, 
 The secret rest with Thee ! 
 
 I could not do without Thee ! 
 No other friend can read 
 
 The spirit’s strange deep longings, 
 Interpreting its need. 
 
 No human heart could enter 
 Each deep recess of mine, 
 
 And soothe and hush and calm it, 
 O blessed Lord, but Thine! 
 
 I could not do without Thee ! 
 For years are fleeting fast, 
 
 And soon, in solemn loneliness, 
 The river must be passed. 
 
 But Thou wilt never leave me, 
 And though the waves roll high, 
 
 I know Thou wilt be near me, 
 ‘And whisper, ‘‘ It is 1.” 
 
 43 
 
44 
 
 UNDER THE SURFACE. 
 
 
 
 Ҥ JES SSONE ae 
 Mart. xvii. 8. 
 
 I. 
 
 sd nak only!” In the shadow 
 
 Of the cloud so chill and dim, 
 We are clinging, loving, trusting, 
 He with us, and we with Him ; 
 All unseen, though ever nigh, 
 “« Jesus only ”’—all our cry. 
 
 II. 
 
 <‘ Jesus only!” In the glory, 
 When the shadows all are flown, 
 
 Seeing Him in all His beauty, 
 Satisfied with Him alone, 
 
 May we join His ransomed throng, 
 
 «« Jesus only ”—all our song. 
 
 
 
 LS ST ve OK ME 
 
 ‘OQ Thou whom my soul loveth.’?—Cant. i. 7 
 
 S it for me, dear Saviour, 
 Thy glory and Thy rest ? 
 
 For me, so weak and sinful, 
 Oh, shall J thus be blessed ? 
 
 
 
 oa 
 

 
 IS IT FOR ME? 
 
 Ts it for me to see Thee 
 
 - In all Thy glorious grace, 
 
 And gaze in endless rapture 
 On Thy beloved Face ? 
 
 Is it for me to listen 
 To Thy beloved Voice, 
 And hear its sweetest music 
 Bid even me rejoice? 
 Is it for me, Thy welcome, 
 Thy gracious ‘‘ Enter in” ? 
 
 For me, Thy ‘‘ Come, ye blessed !” 
 
 For me, so full of sin ? 
 
 O Saviour, precious Saviour, 
 My heart is at Thy feet ; 
 
 I bless Thee and I love Thee, 
 And Thee I long to meet. 
 
 A thrill of solemn gladness 
 Has hushed my very heart, 
 
 To think that I shall really 
 Behold Thee as Thou art; 
 
 Behold Thee in thy beauty, 
 Behold Thee face to face ; 
 Behold Thee in Thy glory, 
 And reap Thy smile of grace, 
 And be with Thee forever, 
 And never grieve Thee more ! 
 Dear Saviour, I must praise Thee, 
 And lovingly adore. | 
 
 45 
 
46 UNDER THE SURFACE. 
 
 HIDDEN IN-LIGATs 
 
 HEN first the sun dispels the cloudy night, 
 The glad hills catch the radiance from afar, 
 And smile for joy. We say, ‘‘ How fair they are, 
 Tree, rock, and heather-bloom, so clear and bright!” 
 But when the sun draws near in westering might, 
 Enfolding all in one transcendent blaze 
 Of sunset glow, we trace them not, but gaze 
 And wonder at the glorious, holy light. 
 Come nearer, Sun of Righteousness! that we, 
 Whose swift short hours of day so swiftly run, 
 So overflowed with love and light may be, | 
 So lost in glory of the nearing Sun, 
 That not our light, but Thine, the world may see, 
 New praise to Thee through our poor lives be won. 
 
 HE TS TH VV LO 
 
 ‘*So shall the King greatly desire thy beauty ; for He is thy Lord, and wor: 
 
 ship thou Him.’’—Pxs. xlv. 11. 
 
 ESUS, belovéd Master, art Thou near ? 
 My heart goes forth to Thee! ‘Thy precious Word 
 Has flashed a bright yet tender thrill, a touch 
 Of living light, all through my silent soul. 
 I had not looked for it. I was too tired 
 For earnest search, and could not rise above 
 A sense of weary pain, that drew a veil 
 
 a en re. = 
 

 
 _HE IS THY LORD. 
 
 
 
 Of mist and lonely gloom before my eyes. 
 
 But as I lay and waited for the sleep 
 
 That had been asked, tie Book beside my hand 
 Lured me to glance at lightly opening leaves. 
 Did not Thy ioving Spirit guide the glance 
 That fell upon the unsought word of power, 
 “Heis Thy Lord”? Sosimple, yet so strong, 
 So all-embracing! oh, it was enough 
 
 To chase away all mists and glooms of life. 
 
 ““Heis Thy Lord!” Thyself, O Saviour dear, 
 And not another. Whom have I but Thee 
 
 In heaven or earth? And whom should I desire! 
 For Thou hast said, ‘‘ So shall the King desire thee!” 
 And well may I respond in wondering love, 
 
 “Thou art my Lord, and I will worship Thee.” 
 
 **He 1s thy Lord!” So certainly, I know 
 My glad allegiance has been given to ‘Thee, 
 Because Thine ail-compelling love and grace 
 Have won the citadel which else had stood 
 Defiant, till God’s wrath had laid it low. 
 
 So certainly ! a fact which cannot change 
 Because ‘Thou changest not, my glorious Lord. 
 
 ay 
 
 ‘*Heis THY Lord!” Oh, mine! though other lords 
 
 Have had dominion, now I know Thy name, 
 And its great music is the only key 
 
 To which my soul vibrates in full accord, 
 Blending with other notes but as they blend 
 With this, Oh, mine! But dare I say it, J, 
 
48 UNDER THE SURFACE, 
 
 Who fail and wander, mourning oftentimes 
 
 Some sin-made discord, or some tuneless string ? 
 
 It would be greater daring to deny, 
 
 To say, ‘‘ Not mine,” when Thou hast proved to me 
 That I am Thine, by promise sealed with blood. 
 
 ‘He is thy Lord!” Oh, Iam glad of this, 
 
 So glad that Thou art Master, Sovereign, King! 
 Only I want Thy rule to be supreme 
 
 And absolute; no lurking rebel thought, 
 
 No traitor in disguise to pass its bounds. 
 
 So glad,—because it is such rest to know 
 
 That Thou hast ordered and appointed all, 
 
 And wilt yet order and appoint my lot. 
 
 For though so much I cannot understand, 
 
 And would not choose, has been, and yet may be, 
 Thou choosest and Thou rulest, THou, my Lord! 
 And this is peace, such peace,—I hardly pause 
 To look beyond to all the coming joy 
 
 And glory of Thy full and visible reign: 
 
 Thou reignest now— ‘‘ He is thy Lord!” to-day !- 
 
 My Lord! My heart hath said it joyfully. 
 
 Nay, could it be my own cold, treacherous heart ? 
 "Tis comfort to remember that we have 
 
 No will or power to think one holy thought, 
 
 And thereby estimate His power in us,— 
 
 ** No man can say that Jesus is the Lord, 
 
 But by the Holy Ghost.” Then it must be 
 
 That all the sweetness of the word, ‘‘ Thy Lord,” 
 And all the long glad echoes that it woke, 
 
 
 
OUR KING. 49 
 
 Are whispers of the Spirit, and a seal 
 Upon His work, as yet so faintly seen. 
 
 “* My Lord, my God!” Thou hearest, blesséd Lord, 
 Thou knowest how, like Mary, I would bend 
 
 At Thy beloved feet, if Thou wert here ! 
 
 “‘Tf Thou wert here?” But surely Thou art here, 
 And I believe it, though I-cannot see. 
 
 I should not love Thee now wert Thou not near, 
 Looking on me in love. Yea, Thou dost meet 
 Those that remember Thee. Look on me still, 
 
 Lord Jesus Christ, and let Thy look give strength 
 
 To work for Thee with single heart and eye. 
 
 
 
 OUR KING. 
 
 ‘‘Worship thou Him.’’—-Ps. xlv, 11. 
 
 SAVIOUR, precious Saviour, 
 Whom yet unseen we love; 
 O Name of might and favor, 
 All other names above : 
 We worship Thee, we bless Thee, 
 To Thee alone we sing ; 
 We praise Thee, and confess Thee 
 Our holy Lord and King! 
 
 O Bringer of salvation, 
 
 Who wondrously hast wrought, 
 Thyself the revelation 
 
 Of love beyond our thought : 
 
 4 
 
50 
 
 UNDER THE SURFACE. 
 
 
 
 We worship Thee, we bless Thee, 
 To Thee alone we sing ; 
 
 We praise Thee, and confess Thee 
 Our gracious Lord and King ! 
 
 In Thee all fullness dwelleth, 
 All grace and power divine ; 
 The glory that excelleth, 
 O Son of God, is Thine: 
 We worship Thee, we bless Thee, 
 To Thee alone we sing ; 
 We praise Thee, and confess Thee 
 Our glorious Lord and King! 
 
 Oh grant the consummation 
 Of this our song above, 
 In endless adoration, 
 And everlasting love : 
 
 Then shall we praise and bless Thee 
 
 Where perfect praises ring, 
 And evermore confess Thee 
 Our Saviour and our King ! 
 
 
 
 ASCENSION SONG. 
 
 “He ascended up on high.”—Epu. iv. 8. 
 
 OLDEN harps are sounding, 
 
 Angel voices ring, 
 Pearly gates are opened— 
 Opened for the King ; 
 
 
 
 
 
 — = “lee 
 
 so 
 

 
 ASCENSION SONG. 
 
 Christ, the King of Glory, 
 Jesus, King of Love, 
 - Is gone up in triumph 
 To His throne above. 
 All His work is ended, 
 Joyfully we sing, 
 Jesus hath ascended ! 
 Glory to our King! 
 
 He who came to save us, 
 He who bled and died, 
 Now is crowned with glory 
 
 At His Father’s side. 
 Never more to suffer, 
 Never more to die: 
 Jesus, King of Glory, 
 Is gone up on high. 
 All His work is ended, 
 Joyfully we sing, 
 Jesus hath ascended ! 
 Glory to our King! 
 
 Praying for His children 
 In that blessed place, 
 Calling them to glory, 
 Sending them His grace ; 
 His bright home preparing, 
 Faithful ones, for you ; 
 Jesus ever liveth, 
 Ever loveth too. 
 
 ol 
 
52 
 
 UNDER THE SURFACE. 
 
 All His work is ended, 
 Joyfully we sing, 
 
 Jesus hath ascended ! 
 Glory to our King! 
 
 
 
 ADVENT SONG. 
 
 fi pees art coming, O my Saviour ! 
 
 Thou art coming, O my King! 
 In Thy beauty all-resplendent, 
 In Thy glory all-transcendent ; 
 
 Well may we rejoice and sing ! 
 Coming ! In the opening east 
 
 Herald brightness slowly swells ; 
 Coming ! O my glorious Priest, 
 
 Hear we not Thy golden bells ? 
 
 Thou art coming, Thou art coming ! 
 We shall meet Thee on Thy way, 
 
 We shall see Thee, we shall know Thee, 
 
 We shall bless "hee, we shall show Thee 
 All our hearts could never say ! 
 
 What an anthem that will be, 
 
 Ringing out our love to Thee, 
 
 Pouring out our rapture sweet 
 
 At Thine own all-glorious feet ! 
 
 Thou art coming! Rays of glory 
 Through the veil Thy death has rent, 
 
 OE es SS ae _ 
 

 
 ADVENT SONG. 
 
 
 
 Touch the mountain and the river 
 With a golden glowing quiver, 
 
 ~~ Thrill of hght and music blent. 
 Earth is brightened when this gleam 
 Falls on flower and rock and stream ; 
 _ Life is brightened when this ray 
 Falls upon its darkest day. 
 
 Not acloud and not a shadow, 
 Not a mist and not a tear, 
 Nota sin and not a sorrow, 
 Not a dim and veiled to-morrow, 
 For that sunrise grand and clear ! 
 Jesus, Saviour, once with Thee 
 Nothing else seems worth a thought ! 
 Oh how marvellous will be 
 All the bliss Thy pain hath bought !_ 
 
 Thou art coming! At Thy table 
 We are witnesses for this, 
 While remembering hearts Thou meetest, 
 In communion clearest, sweetest, 
 Earnest of our coming bliss. 
 Showing not Thy death alone, 
 And Thy love exceeding great, 
 But Thy coming and Thy throne, 
 All for which we long and wait. 
 
 Thou artcoming! We are waiting 
 With a hope that cannot fail ; 
 
 53 
 
 
 

 
 54 UNDER THE SURFACE. 
 
 
 
 Asking not the day or hour, 
 Resting on Thy word of power, | a 
 Anchored safe within the veil. | oe 
 Time appointed may be long, 
 But the vision must be sure : 
 Certainty shall make us strong, 
 Joyful patience can endure ! 
 
 O the joy to see Thee reigning, 
 Thee, my own beloved Lord ! ' 
 Every tongue Thy name confessing, 
 Worship, honor, glory, blessing, 
 Brought to Thee with glad accord ! 
 Thee, my Master and my Friend, 
 Vindicated and enthroned ! 
 Unto earth’s remotest end 
 Glorified, adored, and owned ! 
 
 —_—___—=@ 00 > ______ 
 
 ‘ Pur CeAork. 
 
 Workers together with Him.’’-—2 Cor. vi. i. 
 
 ‘Serve the Lord with gladness ; come before His presence with singing.’’—Ps. 
 C. 2. 
 
 eee 
 
 “HAVE VOU NOT A WORD FOR JaSOs¢” 
 
 ‘*O Lord, open Thou my lips ; and my mouth shall show forth Thy praise.’’ -~ 
 (Psa los 
 
 Aes you not a word for Jesus? not a word to say 
 for Him ? 
 He is listening through the chorus of the burning sera- 
 phim! 
 
 
 

 
 
 
 ‘SHAVE YOU NOT A WORD FOR JESUS?” 55 
 
 
 
 He 1S LISTENING; does He hear you speaking of the 
 things of earth, 
 
 Only of its passing pleasure, selfish sorrow, empty mirth ? 
 
 He has spoken words of blessing, pardon, peace, and love 
 to you, 
 
 Glorious hopes and gracious comfort, strong and tender, 
 sweet and true ; 
 
 Does He hear you telling others something of His love 
 untold, 
 
 Overflowings of thanksgiving for His mercies manifold ? 
 
 Have you not a word for Jesus? Will the world His 
 praise proclaim ? 
 
 Who shall speak if ye are silent ? ye who know and love 
 His name. 
 
 You, whom He hath called and chosen His own witnesses 
 to be, 
 
 Will you tell your gracious Master, ‘‘ Lord, we cannot 
 speak for Thee ! ” 
 
 «‘Cannot !” though He suffered for you, died because He 
 loved you so ! 
 
 *““Cannot!” though He has forgiven, making scarlet 
 white as snow ! 
 
 **Cannot !” though His grace abounding is your freely 
 promised aid ! 
 
 “Cannot!” though He stands beside you, though HE 
 says, ‘‘ Be not afraid !” 
 
 Have you not a word for Jesus ? Some, perchance, while 
 ye are dumb, 
 
 Wait and weary for your message, hoping yow will bid 
 them ‘‘ come ;” 
 
56 UNDER THE SURFACE, 
 
 
 
 Never telling hidden sorrows, lingering just outside the 
 door, . 
 
 Longing for your hand to lead them into rest for ever- 
 more. 
 
 Yours may be the joy and honor His redeeméd ones to 
 bring, 
 
 Jewels for the coronation of your coming Lord and King. 
 
 Will you cast away the gladness thus your Master’s joy 
 to share, 
 
 All because a word for Jesus seems too much for you to 
 dare ? 
 
 What shall be our word for Jesus ? Master, give it day 
 by day ; 
 
 Ever, as the need arises, teach. Thy children what to say. 
 
 Give us holy love and patience; grant us deep humility, 
 
 That of self we may be emptied, and our hearts be full 
 of Thee ; 
 
 - Give us zeal and faith and fervor, make us winning, make 
 us wise, 
 
 Single-hearted, strong and fearless,—Thou hast called us, 
 we will rise! 
 
 Let the might of Thy good Spirit go with every loving 
 word ; 
 
 And by hearts prepared and opened be our message always 
 heard ! 
 
 Yes, we have a word for Jesus ! Living echoes we will be 
 Of thine own sweet words of blessing, of Thy gracious 
 “Come to Me.” 
 
 | 
 | 
 
 
 
 
 

 
 “SHAVE YOU NOT A WORD FOR JESUS ?” 57 
 
 Jesus, Master! yes, we love Thee, and to prove our love, 
 would lay 
 
 Fruit of lips which Thou wilt open at Thy blesséd feet 
 to-day. 
 
 Many an effort may it cost us, many a heart-beat, many a 
 fear, 
 
 But Thou knowest, and wilt strengthen, and Thy help is 
 always near. 
 
 Give us grace to follow fully, vanquishing our faithless 
 
 shame, 
 
 Feebly it may be, but truly, witnessing for Thy dear 
 
 Name. 
 
 Yes, we have a word for Jesus! we will bravely speak for 
 Thee, 
 
 And Thy bold and faithful soldiers, Saviour, we would 
 henceforth be : 
 
 In Thy name set up our banners, while Thine own shall 
 
 | wave above, 
 
 With Thy crimson Name of Mercy, end Thy golden 
 Name of Love. 
 
 Help us lovingly to labor, looking for Thy present 
 smile, 
 
 Looking for Thy promised blessing, through the bright- 
 ening “little while.” 
 
 Words for Thee in weakness spoken Thou wilt here ac- 
 cept and own, 
 
 And confess them in Thy glory, when we see Thee on 
 Thy throne. 
 
58 
 
 UNDER THE SURFACE. 
 
 
 
 A WORKERS PRAVER. 
 
 ORD, speak to me, that I may speak 
 In living echoes of Thy tone ; 
 As Thou hast sought, so let me seek 
 Thy erring children, lost and lone. 
 
 O lead me, Lord, that I may lead 
 
 The wandering and the wavering feet ; 
 O feed me, Lord, that I may feed 
 
 Thy hungering ones with manna sweet. 
 
 O strengthen me, that while I stand 
 Firm on the Rock and strong in Thee, 
 T may stretch out a loving hand 
 To wrestlers with the troubled sea. 
 
 O teach me, Lord, that I may teach 
 The precious things Thou dost impart ; 
 And wing my words, that they may reach 
 The hidden depths of many a heart. 
 
 O 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. 
 
 O fill me with Thy fullness, Lord, 
 Until my very heart o’erflow 
 
 In kindling thought and glowing word, 
 Thy love to tell, Thy praise to show. 
 
 
 

 
 SINGING FOR JESUS. _ 59 
 
 O use me, Lord, use even me, 
 fs Just as Thou wilt, and when, and where ; 
 Until Thy blessed Face I see, 
 Thy rest, Thy joy, Thy glory share. 
 
 
 
 SINGING FOR JESUS. 
 ‘¢ With my song will I praise him.”—Ps. xxviii. 7. 
 
 INGING for Jesus, our Saviour and King, 
 Singing for Jesus, the Lord whom we love ; 
 All adoration we joyously bring, 
 Longing to praise as we praise Him above. 
 
 Singing for Jesus, our Master and Friend, 
 Telling His love and His marvellous grace ; 
 Love f:om eternity, love without end, 
 Love for the loveless, the sinful, and base. 
 
 : Singing for Jesus, and trying to win 
 Many to love Him, and join in the song ; 
 Calling the weary and wandering in, 
 Rolling the chorus of gladness along. 
 
 e 
 
 Singing for Jesus, our Life and our Light ; 
 Singing for Him as we press to the mark ; 
 Singing for Him when the morning is bright, 
 
 Singing, still singing, for Him in the dark. 
 
 
 
60 
 
 UNDER THE SURFACE. 
 
 
 
 Singing for Jesus, our Shepherd and Guide, 
 Singing for gladness of heart that He gives ; 
 
 Singing for wonder and praise that He died, 
 Singing for blessing and joy that He lives. 
 
 Singing for Jesus, Oh, singing for joy! 
 
 Thus will we praise Him and tell out His love, 
 Till He shall call us to brighter employ, 
 
 Singing for Jesus forever above. 
 
 
 
 A SILENCE AND A SONG. 
 
 AM alone, dear Master— 
 Alone in heart with Thee! 
 Though merry faces round me 
 And loving looks I see. 
 
 There’s a hush among the blithe ones, 
 While a pleasant voice is heard, 
 
 A truce to all the tournament 
 Of flashing wit and word. 
 
 And in that truce of silence 
 I lay aside my lance, 
 
 And through the light and music send 
 One happy upward glance. 
 
 
 

 
 A SILENCE AND A SONG. 61 
 
 I know not what the song may be, 
 The words I cannot hear ; 
 
 ’Tis but a gentle melody, 
 All simple, soft, and clear. 
 
 But the sweetness and the quiet 
 Have set my spirit free, 
 
 And I turn in loving gladness, 
 Dear Master, now to Thee. 
 
 I know I love Thee better 
 Than any earthly joy, 
 
 For Thou hast given me the peace 
 Which nothing can destroy. 
 
 I know that Thou art nearer still 
 Than all this merry throng, 
 
 And sweeter is the thought of Thee 
 Than any lovely song. 
 
 Thou hast put gladness in my heart; 
 Then well may I be glad ! 
 Without the secret of Thy love, 
 I could not but be sad. 
 
 I bless Thee for these pleasant hours 
 With sunny-hearted friends, 
 
 But more for this sweet moment’s calm 
 Thy loving-kindness sends. 
 

 
 UNDER THE SURFACE, 
 
 
 
 O Master, gracious Master, 
 What will Thy presence be, _ 
 If such a thrill of joy can crown 
 One upward look to Thee ? 
 
 Tis ending now, that gentle song, 
 And they will call for me ; 
 
 They know the music I love best,— 
 My song shall be for Thee! 
 
 For Thee, who hast so lovéd us, 
 And whom, not having seen, 
 We love; on whom in all our joy, 
 
 As in our grief, we lean. 
 
 Be near me still, and tune my notes, 
 And make them sweet and strong 
 
 To waft Thy words to many a heart, 
 Upon the wings of song. 
 
 I know that all will listen, 
 For my very heart shall sing, | 
 And it shall be Thy praise alone, 
 My glorious Lord and King. 
 

 
 
 
 THE COMING OF THE HEALER. 63 
 
 
 
 ee CUMING OF THE HEALER. 
 
 ‘‘ They came into the land of Gennesaret. And when the men of that place 
 had knowledge of Him, they sent out into all that country round about, and 
 brought unto Him all that were diseased, and besought Him that they might only 
 touch the hem of His garment ; and as many as touched were made perfectly 
 whole.” —MArT. xiy. 34-36. 
 
 ROM the watch of lonely mountain prayer, in gather- 
 ing storm and blast, 
 From the path no mortal foot could tread, o’er waters 
 wild and vast, 
 HE came, the glorious Son of God, with healing, love, 
 : and light, 
 To the land of far Gennesaret, that lay in shadowy night. 
 
 Oh, blessed morning, sunrise true, upon that gloomy 
 shore, 
 
 Where they who walked in darkness long the Light of 
 Life adore ! 
 
 Oh, blessed coming to the land of Death’s usurping sway ; 
 
 For where those shining footsteps fall the shadows flee 
 away ! 
 
 But when the Light had touched the hills by slumbering 
 Galilee, | 
 
 The golden wave must roll afar toward the western sea : 
 
 And when the men had knowledge of the Holy One of 
 God, _ 
 
 Then they sent out through all the land, and spread His 
 fame abroad. 
 

 
 64 UNDER THE SURFACE, 
 
 ————e 
 
 
 
 And then they brought the suffering ones, the lonely, or 
 the dear, 
 
 And laid them at the Healer’s feet, from far away, or 
 near : 
 
 Then bent before the Wondrous One, and conn be- 
 sought 
 
 That they might only touch the hem around His gar- 
 
 ment wrought. 
 
 He heard the prayer, and gave the will and strength to 
 touch the hem, 
 
 And gave the faith ; and virtue flowed from Him, and’ 
 healéd them : 
 
 For every one whose feeblest touch thus met the Saviour’s 
 power 
 
 Rose up in perfect health and strength in that accepted 
 hour. 
 
 O Tender One, O Mighty One, who never sent away 
 
 The sinner or the sufferer, Thou art the Same to-day! _ 
 
 The Same in Love, the Same in Power, and ee ve art 
 waiting still 
 
 To heal the multitudes that come, yea, ‘‘ whosoever 
 will !” 
 
 We know Thee, blessed Saviour, who hast ‘filled us 
 with good things ;” 
 
 Thou hast arisen on our land, with healing in Thy 
 Wings ; 
 
 
 

 
 THE COMING OF THE HEALER. 65 
 
 
 
 Thou hast arisen on our hearts, with light and life 
 Divine ; 
 Now bid us be Thy messengers, bid us ‘‘arise and 
 
 shine ! ” 
 
 Oh, let Thy Spirit fire our zeal, that we may now ‘‘ send 
 out,” 
 
 And tell that Thou art come ‘‘in all the country round 
 about,” — | 
 
 That Thou art waiting now to heal, that Thou art strong 
 to save, 
 
 That Thou hast spoilt the Spoiler, Death, and triumphed 
 o’er the grave. 
 
 Oh, make us fervent in the quest, that we may bring them 
 in, 
 
 The weary and the wounded, and the sufferers from sin ; 
 
 The stricken and the dying, let us seek them out a 
 Thee, 
 
 And lay them at Thy glorious feet, that healed they may 
 be. 
 
 Oh, pour upon our waiting hearts the Spirit of Thy 
 grace, 
 
 That we may plead with Thee to show the brightness of 
 Thy face, 
 
 Beseeching Thee to grant the will and strength and faith 
 to such 
 
 As lie in helpless misery, Thy garment’s hem to touch. 
 K 
 
66 UNDER THE SURFACE. 
 
 
 
 And then, Lord Jesus, make them whole, that they ite 
 rise and bring 
 
 New praise and glory unto Thee, our Healer and our 
 King: 
 
 Yea, let Thy saving health be known through all the 
 
 | earth abroad, 
 
 So shall the people praise Thy Name, our Saviour ie 
 our God. 
 
 
 
 TELL LT OC, 
 
 ‘Tell it out among the heathen that the Lord is King.”’—Ps. xcvi. 10. (Prayer 
 Book Version.) 
 
 ELL it out among the heathen that the Lord is 
 King ! 
 Tell it out, tell it out! 
 Tell it out among the nations, bid them shout and sing ! 
 Tell it out, tell it out! 
 Tell it out with adoration, that He shall increase, 
 That the mighty King of Glory is the King of Peace. 
 Teil it out with jubilation, though the waves may roar, 
 That He sitteth on the yee our King for ever- 
 more ! 
 Tell it out, ete. 
 
 Tell it out among the nations that the Saviour reigns! 
 Tell it out, tell it out ! 
 Tell it out among the heathen, bid them burst their 
 chains ! 
 
 
 

 
 ‘¢ HOW, WONDERFUL!” 67 
 
 
 
 Tell it out, tell it out! 
 Tell it out among the weeping ones that Jesus lives ; 
 Tell it out among the weary ones what rest He gives ; 
 Tell it out among the sinners that He came to save; 
 Tell it out among the dying that He triumphed o’er the 
 grave. 
 Tell it out, ete. 
 
 Tell it ont among the heathen, Jesus reigns above ! 
 Tell it out, tell it out ! 
 Tell it out among the nations that His name is Love! 
 Tell it out, tell it out! 
 Tell it out among the highways, and the lanes at home : 
 Let it ring across the mountains and the ocean foam ; 
 Like the sound of many waters let our glad shout be, 
 Till it echo and re-echo from the islands of the sea ! 
 Tell it out, ete. 
 
 
 
 “HOW WONDERFUL!” 
 
 E answered all my prayer abundantly, 
 And crowned the work that to His feet I brought, 
 
 With blessing more than I had asked or thought— 
 A blessing undisguised, and fair, and free. 
 I stood amazed, and whispered, ‘‘ Can it be 
 
 That He hath granted all the boon I sought ? 
 
 How wonderful that He for me hath wrought ! 
 How wonderful that He hath answered me !” 
 
68 UNDER THE SURFACE, © 
 
 
 
 O faithless heart ! He said that he would hear 
 And answer Thy poor prayer, and He hath heard 
 And proved His promise. Wherefore didst thou fear ? 
 Why marvel that Thy Lord hath kept His word ? 
 More wonderful if He should fail to bless 
 Expectant faith and prayer with good success ! 
 
 
 
 THE LULE OF EITEER 
 
 Vie a voice has echoed the cry for ‘‘a lull in 
 life,” , 
 
 Fainting under the noontide, fainting under the strife. 
 
 Is it the wisest longing ? is it the truest gain ? 
 
 Is not the Master withholding possible loss and pain ? 
 
 Perhaps if He sent the lull we might fail of our heart’s 
 desire ! 
 
 Swift and sharp the concussion striking out living fire, 
 
 Mighty and long the friction resulting in living glow, 
 
 Heat that is force of the spirit, energy fruitful in flow. 
 
 What if the blast should falter, what if the fire be stilled, 
 
 What if the molten metal cool ere the mold be filled ? 
 
 What if the hands hang down when a work is almost 
 done ? . 
 
 What if the sword be dropped when a battle is almost 
 won ? 
 
 
 
 * See “A Lull in Life,” in ‘‘ The Ministry of Song.” 
 
 
 

 
 THE LULL OF ETERNITY. 69 
 
 
 
 Past many an unseen Maelstrom the strong wind drives 
 the skiff, 
 
 When a lull might drift 1t onward to fatal swirl or cliff. 
 
 Faithful the guide that spurreth, sternly forbidding repose, 
 
 When treacherous slumber lureth to pause amid Alpine 
 
 snows. 
 
 The lull of Time may be darkness, falling in lonely 
 night, 
 
 But the lull of Eternity neareth, rising in full calm light ; 
 
 The earthly lull may be silence, desolate, deep, and 
 cold, 
 
 But the heavenly lull shall be music sweeter a thousand- 
 fold. 
 
 Here, it is ‘‘ calling apart,” and the place may be desert 
 indeed, 
 
 Leaving and losing the blessings linked with our busy 
 need ; 
 
 There !—-why should I say it? hath not the heart leapt 
 up, 
 
 Swift and glad, to the contrast, filling the full, full cup ? 
 
 Still shall the ‘key-word, ringing, echo the same sweet 
 “Come!” 
 
 “¢Come” with the bless¢d myriads safe in the Father’s 
 home ; 
 
 “Come ”—for the work is over; ‘‘ come ”—for the feast 
 is spread ; 
 
 *“Come ”—for the crown of glory waits for the weary 
 head. 
 
the) Se Pee a ah | x haere = , © 
 ry x aa: 64 ve as. 
 
 — od . a ae aot Fe) = < te =i an 
 " i" — en 
 
 70 UNDER THE SURFACE. 
 
 
 
 When the rest of faith is ended, and the rest in hope is 
 past, . 
 
 The rest of love remaineth, Sabbath of life at last. 
 
 No more fleeting hours, hurrying down the day, 
 
 But golden stillness of glory, never to pass away. 
 
 Time with its pressure of moments, mocking us as they 
 fell | 
 
 With relentless beat of a footstep, hour by hour the 
 knell 
 
 Of a hope or an aspiration, then shall have passed away, 
 
 Leaving a grand calm leisure, leisure of endless day. 
 
 Leisure that cannot be dimmed by the touch of time or 
 place, | 
 Finding its counterpart measure only in infinite space ; 
 Full, and yet ever filling, leisure without alloy, | 
 Kternity’s seal on the limitless charter of heavenly joy. 
 
 Leisure to fathom the fathomless, leisure to seek and to 
 know | 
 Marvels and secrets and glories eternity only can show ; 
 Leisure of holiest gladness, leisure of holiest love, 
 Leisure to drink from the Fountain of infinite peace 
 above. 
 
 Art thou patiently toiling, waiting the Master’s will, 
 
 For a rest that never seems nearer, a hush that is far off 
 still ? 
 
 Does it seem that the noisy city never will let thee hear 
 
 The sound of His gentle footsteps drawing, it may be, — 
 near ? 
 
 
 

 
 THE SOWERS. “1 
 
 
 
 Does it seem that the blinding dazzle of noonday glare 
 and heat 
 
 Is a fiery veil between thy heart and visions high and 
 sweet ? 
 
 What though a “lull in life may never be made for 
 thee ? 
 
 Soon shall a <<‘ better thing” be thine, the Lull of Eter- 
 nity. 
 
 THE SOWERS. 
 4 By the morning sow thy seed, nor stay thy hand at 
 
 evening hour, 
 
 Never asking which shall prosper—both may yield thee 
 fruit and flower : 
 
 Thou shalt reap of that thou sowest ; though thy grain 
 be small and bare, 
 
 God shall clothe it as He pleases, for the harvest full and 
 fair ; 
 
 Though it sink in turbid waters, hidden from thy yearn- 
 ing sight, 
 
 It shall spring in strength and beauty, ripening in celes- 
 tial light ; 
 
 Ever springing, ever ripening ;—not alone in earthly soil, 
 
 Not alone among the shadows, where the weary workers 
 toil ; 
 
 Gracious first-fruits there may meet thee of the reaping- 
 time begun ;— 
 
 But upon the Hill of Zion, ’neath the Uncreated Sun, 
 
42 UNDER THE SURFACE, | 
 
 First the fullness of the blessing shall the faithful 
 laborer see, 
 Gathering fruit to life eternal, harvest of Eternity. 
 
 Let us watch awhile the sowers, let us mark their tiny 
 grain, 
 
 Scattered off in doubt and trembling, sown in weakness 
 or in pain ; 
 
 Then let Faith, with radiant finger, lift the veil from un- 
 seen things, 
 
 Where the golden sheaves are bending, and the harvest 
 anthem rings. 
 
 I. 
 
 ‘* Such as I have I sow, it is not much,” 
 Said one who loved the Master of the field ; 
 ‘Only a quiet word, a gentle touch 
 Upon the hidden harp-strings, which may yield 
 No quick response ; I tremble, yet I speak 
 For Him who knows the heart, so loving, yet so weak.” 
 
 And so the words were spoken, soft and low, 
 Or traced with timid pen ; yet oft they fell 
 On soil prepared, which she would never know, 
 Until the tender blade sprang up, to tell 
 That not in vain her labor had been spent ; 
 Then with new faith and hope more bravely on she went. 
 
 II. 
 
 “‘T had much seed to sow,”’ said one; ‘‘ I planned 
 To fill broad furrows, and to watch it spring, 
 
 
 
 
 

 
 THE SOWERS. (3, 
 
 —_— 
 
 And water it with care. But now the hand 
 
 Of Him to whom I sought great sheaves to bring 
 Is laid upon His laborer, and I wait, 
 Weak, helpless, useless, at His palace gate. 
 
 ‘Now I have nothing, only, day by day, 
 Grace to sustain me till the day is done ; 
 And some sweet passing glimpses by the way 
 Of Him, the Altogether Lovely One ; 
 ‘ And some strange things to learn, unlearnt before, 
 That make the suffering light, if it but teach me more.” 
 
 Yet, from the hush of that secluded room, 
 
 Forth floated wingéd seeds of thought and prayer ; 
 These, reaching many a desert place, to bloom 
 
 And pleasant fruit an hundred-fold to bear ; 
 Those, wafted heavenward with song and sigh, 
 To fall again with showers of blessing from on high. 
 
 ITI. 
 
 «‘ What can I sow ?” thought one, to whom God gave 
 Sweet notes and skillful fingers—‘‘ Can my song 
 
 Be cast upon the waters, as they lave 
 My feet with grateful echo, soft and long, 
 
 Or break in sunny spray of fair applaud ? 
 
 Shall this be found one day as fruit to Thee, my God ?” 
 
 He sang, and all were hushed : Oh, sweeter fall 
 The notes that pour from fervent fount of love 
 Than studied flow of sweetest madrigal. 
 He sang of One who listened from above, 
 
V4 UNDER THE SURFACE, 
 
 —e ese 
 
 
 
 
 
 He cast the song at His beloved feet ;— 
 Some said, ‘‘ How strange!” And others felt, ‘‘ How 
 sweet |” 
 IV. 
 
 Another stood, with basket stored indeed, 
 And powerful hand both full and faithful found, 
 And cast God’s own imperishable seed 
 Upon the darkly heaving waste around ; 
 Yet oft in weariness, and oft in woe, 
 Did that good sower store, and then go forth to sow. > 
 
 The tide of human hearts still ebbed and flowed, | 
 Less like the fruitful flood than barren sea ; 
 He saw not where it fell, and yet he sowed : 
 ‘¢ Not void shall 1¢ return,” said God, ‘‘ to Me!” 
 The precious seed, so swiftly borne away, 
 A singing reaper’s hand shall fill vith sheaves one day. 
 
 Vv. 
 
 Another watched the sowers longingly. 
 ‘*T cannot sow such seed as they,” he said ; 
 ‘‘No shining grain of thought is given to me, 
 No fiery words of power bravely sped. 
 Will others give me of their bounteous store ? 
 My hand may scatter that, if I can do no more.” 
 
 So by the wayside he went forth to sow 
 
 The silent seeds, eaeh wrapped in fruitful prayer, 
 With glad humility ; content to know 
 
 The volume lent, the leaflet culled with care, 
 
 
 

 
 THE SOWERS. 769) 
 
 The message placed in stranger hands, were all 
 Beneath His guiding eye who notes the sparrow’s fall. 
 
 Vi. 
 
 An opening blossom, bright with early dew, 
 Whose-rosy lips had touched the Living Spring 
 Before the thirst of earth was felt ; who knew 
 The children’s Saviour, and the children’s King, 
 Said, ‘“‘ What can I sow, mother?” ‘ Darling boy, 
 Show all how glad He makes you, scatter love and joy !” 
 That sparkling seed he took in his small hand, 
 And dropped it tenderly beside the flow 
 Of sorrows that he could not understand, 
 And cast it lovingly upon the snow 
 That shrouded aged hearts, and joyously 
 Upon the dancing waves of playmates’ thoughtless glee. 
 
 VII. 
 
 <¢ What seed have I to sow?” said one. ‘I lie 
 In stilled and darkened chamber, lone and low ; 
 The silent days and silent nights pass by 
 In monotone of dimness. Could I throw 
 Into the nearest furrow one small seed, 
 It would be life again, a blesséd life indeed !” 
 
 And so she lay through lingering month and year, 
 No word for Him to speak, no work to do ; 
 Only to suffer and be still, and hear 
 That yet the Golden Gate was not in view ; 
 
76 UNDER THE SURFACE. 
 
 
 
 
 
 While hands of love and skill, this charge to keep, 
 Must leave the whitening plain, where others now would 
 reap. 
 
 Such ne sowing ; what the reaping ? Many a full and 
 precious ear 
 
 Waved and ripened, fair and early, for the patient sow- 
 ers’ cheer. 
 
 Not without some gracious witness of God’s faithfulness 
 and love 
 
 Toiled they, waiting for the coming of the harvest home 
 above 3 
 
 Word, and prayer, and song, and leaflet, found, trode 
 after many days, 
 
 Quickening energy and courage, brightening hope and 
 wakening praise. 
 
 Yet how many a seed seemed trodden under foot, and 
 left to die, 
 
 Lost, forgotten by the sower, never traced by human eye ; 
 
 Many a worker meekly saying, ‘‘ Lord, how thankful will 
 I be, 
 
 If but one among a thousand may bring forth good fruit 
 to Thee!” 
 
 One by one, no longer 
 Gently bid to wait ; 
 
 One by one, they entered 
 Through the Golden Gate. 
 
 w m >: 4 
 “2. 
 
 ate 
 
 
 

 
 THE SOWERS. 
 
 
 
 One by one they fell adoring 
 
 At the Master’s feet, — 
 Heard His welcome, deep and thrilling, 
 «Enter thou!” each full heart filling, 
 All its need forever stilling— 
 
 - All its restless beat. 
 
 Then the gift, the free, the glorious 
 Life with Him, eternal life,— 
 Erst bestowed amid the weeping, 
 And the weary vigil-keeping, 
 And the bitter strife,— 
 
 Now in mighty consummation, 
 First in all its fullness known, 
 Dower of glory all transcendent, 
 Everlasting and resplendent, 
 Is their own ! 
 
 All their own, through Him who loved them, 
 And redeemed them unto God ! 
 
 New and living revelation 
 
 Of the marvels of salvation, 
 
 Wakes new depths of adoration, 
 New and burning laud. 
 
 Now they see their gracious Master, 
 See Him face to face ! 
 
 Now they know the great transition 
 
 From the veiled to veil-less vision, 
 In that bright and blesséd place. 
 
 V7 
 
.% 
 8 UNDER THE SURFACE. 
 
 What a change has passed upon them ! 
 Made like Him, the Perfect One,— 
 
 Made like Him, whose joy they enter, 
 
 Him, the only Crown’and Center ‘ 
 Of the endless bliss begun ! ’ 
 
 pe ee 
 
 But Eternity is long, 
 And its joys are manifold ! 
 Though the service of its song 
 Never falters or grows cold, 
 Though the billows of its praise 
 Never die upon the shore, 
 Though the blesséd harpers raise 
 Alleluias evermore, 
 Though the eye grows never dim 
 Gazing on that mighty Sun, 
 Ever finding all in Him, 
 Every joy complete in one ;— 
 
 Yet THE INFINITE is He, 
 In His Wisdom and His Might ; 
 And it needs eternity 
 To reveal His Love and Light 
 To the finite and created ! 
 Archangelic mind and heart 
 Never with His bliss was sated, 
 Never knew the thousandth part 
 Of the all-mysterious rays 
 Flowing from Essential Light, 
 
 
 

 
 THE SOWERS. 
 
 Hiding in approachless blaze 
 God Himself, the Infinite. 
 
 Infinite the ocean-joy 
 
 Opening to His children’s view ; 
 
 - Infinite their varied treasure, — 
 
 Meted not by mortal measure—- 
 
 Holy knowledge, holy pleasure, 
 
 Through Hternity’s great leisure, 
 Like its praises, ever new. 
 
 So the blessed sowers’ gladness 
 In the free and royal grace 
 Should be crowned with added glory, 
 Woven with their earthly story, 
 Linked with time and place. 
 
 Glad surprise! for every service, 
 Overflowing their reward ! 
 
 No more sowing, no more weeping, 
 
 Only grand and glorious reaping, 
 All the blessing of their Lord. 
 
 ee 
 
 hip 
 
 She who timidly had scattered 
 Trembling line or whispered word, 
 Till the holy work grew dearer, 
 And the sacred courage clearer, 
 Now her Master’s own voice heard, 
 
 79 
 

 
 UNDER THE SURFACE. 
 
 Calling shining throngs around her, — 
 All her own fair harvest found ; 
 
 Then, her humbie name confessing, 
 
 With His radiant smile of blessing, 
 All her dower of gladness crowned. 
 
 iI. 
 
 “Welcome thou, whose heavenly message — 
 Came with quickening power to me! 
 Oh, most welcome to the portals 
 Of this home of bright immortals, 
 I have waited long for thee! ” 
 
 ‘Who art thou? I never saw thee 
 In my pilgrimage below,” 
 Said he, marvelling. ‘I will show thee,” - 
 Answered he, ‘‘the love I owe thee, 
 Full and fervent, for I know thee 
 By the starlight on thy brow. 
 
 ““ Words that issued from thy chamber 
 Turned my darkness into light, 
 Guided footsteps, weak and weary, 
 Through the desert wild and dreary, 
 Through the valley of the night. 
 
 “‘Come! for many another waits thee ! 
 All unfolded thou shalt see, 
 Through the ecstatic revelation 
 Of their endless exultation, 
 What our God hath wrought by thee.” 
 
 
 

 
 THE SOWERS. 81 
 
 II. 
 
 Hark! a voice all joy-inspiring 
 Peals adown the golden floor, 
 Leading on a white-robed chorus, 
 Sweet as flute, and yet sonorous 
 
 As the many waters’ roar. 
 
 He who sang for Jesus heard it ! 
 “Tis the echo of thy song !” 
 
 Said-the leader. ‘As we listened 
 
 Cold hearts glowed and dim eyes glistened, 
 And we learned to love and long— 
 
 “Till the longing and the loving 
 Soared to Him of whom you sang ; 
 Till our Alleluia, swelling 
 Through the glory all-excelling, 
 Up the jasper arches rang.” 
 
 EV. 
 
 ’*Mid the angel-constellations, 
 
 Like a star of purest flame, 
 Shining with exceeding brightness, 
 Robed in snowy-glistering whiteness, 
 
 Now a singing reaper came. 
 
 Came with fullness of rejoicing 
 That beloved smile to meet ; 
 ‘ Master, lo, I come with singing, 
 Myriad sheayes of glory bringing 
 Te Thy dear and blesséd feet. 
 6 
 
82 
 
 UNDER THE SURFACE. 
 
 Followed o’er the golden crystal 
 Glittering hosts with crown and palm ; 
 Joining him whose voice had taught them, 
 T’o the praise of Him who bought them, 
 
 In a new and rapturous psalm. 
 
 Vv. 
 
 He who humbly watched the sowers, 
 Watched the reapers of the Lord ; 
 Sharing all their jubilation, 
 Hailing every coronation, 
 Gladdened by their great reward. 
 
 ““Seed of others long I scattered, — 
 Now their harvest joy is mine, 
 Kindling holy contemplation 
 Into glowing adoration, 
 Into ecstasy divine.” 
 
 So he chanted. But the Master 
 Beckoned through the shining throng ; 
 While the praises of the choir 
 Rose into that silence, higher 
 Than the highest flight of song. 
 
 Great and gracious words were spoken 
 Of his faithful service done, 
 By the Voice that thrills all heaven ; 
 And mysterious rule was given 
 To that meek and marvelling one. 
 
 
 

 
 gS ae ee, ae es 
 aa ae A 
 
 THE SOWERS. 
 
 , ‘VI. 
 
 Found the little child rich harvest 
 #rom his tiny seed of love ; 
 
 Little footsteps followed surely 
 
 In the footprints marked so purely, 
 Till they met again above. 
 
 Aged ones and feeble mourners 
 Felt the solace of his smile ; 
 Hastened on with footsteps lighter, 
 Battled on with courage brighter, 
 Through the lessening “‘ little while,” 
 
 Till they too had joined the mansions 
 Where the weary are at rest. 
 Could that little one forget them ? 
 Oh, how joyously he met them 
 In his dear home safe and blest ! 
 
 And the Saviour, who had called him, 
 Smiled upon His little one ; 
 
 On his brow so fair and tender, 
 
 Set a crown of heavenly splendor, 
 
 With the gracious word ‘‘ Well done!” 
 
 VII. 
 
 Yet again a wondrous anthem 
 Rang across the crystal sea ; 
 
 Harps and voices all harmonious, 
 
 Nearer, nearer, sweet, symphonious, 
 Meet for heaven’s own jubilee. 
 
 83 
 
84 
 
 UNDER THE SURFACE. . 
 
 One by one the singers gathered, « 
 Ever swelling that great song, 
 
 Till a mighty chorus thundered, 
 
 Till the listening seraphs wondered, 
 As its triumph pealed along. 
 
 Onward came they with rejoicing, 
 Bearing one upon their wings, 
 
 With their waving palms victorious, 
 
 To the presence-chamber glorious 
 Of the very King of kings. 
 
 And a whisper, clear and thrilling, 
 Fell upon her ravished ear : 
 “Lo, thy harvest song ascending ! 
 Lo, thy golden sheaves are bending, 
 Full and precious, round thee here !” 
 
 “Nay,” she said, ‘‘I have no harvest, 
 For I had no power to sow ; 
 Burdening others, daily dying, 
 Year by year in weakness lying, 
 Still and silent, lone and low.” 
 
 Then a flash of sudden glory 
 Lit her long life-mystery ; 
 
 By that heavenly intuition 
 
 All the secret of her mission 
 Shone, revealed in radiancy. 
 
 And she knew the sweet memorials 
 Of her hidden life had shed 
 
 
 

 
 EVERLASTING BLESSINGS. 8) 
 
 Glories on the sufferer’s pillow, 
 Calmness on the darkling billow, 
 Peace upon the dying bed. 
 
 Thousand, thousand-fold her guerdon, 
 Thousand, thousand-fold her bliss ! 
 While His cup of suffering sharing, 
 All His will so meekly bearing, 
 He was gloriously preparing 
 This for her, and her for this! 
 
 He that goeth forth and weepeth, seed of grace in sorrow 
 bringing, 
 
 Laden with his sheaves of glory, doubtless shall return 
 with singing. 
 
 —_—— 
 
 
 
 Our Blessings. 
 
 ‘Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who hath blessed 
 us with all spiritual blessings in heavenly places in Christ.’’—EPu. i. 3. 
 
 ———— 
 
 EVERLASTING BLESSINGS. 
 
 ‘“*T know that whatsoever God doeth it shall be for ever..,.—EvcteEs. iii. 14. 
 
 O WHAT everlasting blessings God outpoureth on 
 His own ! 
 
 Ours by promise true and faithful, spoken from the eter- 
 nal throne ; 
 
86 UNDER THE SURFACE. 
 
 
 
 — 
 
 Ours by His eternal purpose ere the universe had place ; 
 Ours by everlasting covenant, ours by free and royal 
 erace. 
 
 With salvation everlasting He shall save us, He shall bless 
 With the largess of Messiah, everlasting righteousness ; 
 Ours the everlasting mercy all His wondrous meee: 
 prove ; | 
 Ours His everlasting inane fruit of everlasting love. 
 
 In the Lord Jehovah trusting, everlasting strength have 
 
 we ; 
 
 He Himself, our Sun, our Glory, Everlasting Light shall 
 be; 
 
 Everlasting life is ours, purchased by The Life laid down ; 
 
 And our heads, oft bowed and weary, everlasting joy 
 shall crown. 
 
 We shall dwell with Christ forever, when the shadows 
 flee away, 
 
 In the everlasting glory of the everlasting day. 
 
 Unto Thee, beloved Saviour, everlasting thanks belong, 
 
 Everlasting adoration, everlasting laud and song! 
 
 
 
 ACCEPTED. 
 
 ‘“‘ Accepted in the Beloved.”—Epu. i. 6. ‘Perfect in Christ Jesus.””—Co.. i, 
 28. ‘*Complete in Him.’’—Cot. ii. 10. 
 
 CCEPTED, Perfect, and Complete, 
 For God’s inheritance made meet ! 
 How true, how glorious, and how sweet ! 
 
 
 
eet Ie ee wee ee 
 
 
 
 FRESH SPRINGS. R7 
 
 
 
 In the Beloveéd—by the King 
 Accepted, though not anything 
 But forfeit lives had we to bring. 
 
 And Perfect in Christ Jesus made, 
 On Him our great transgressions laid, 
 We in his righteousness arrayed. 
 
 Complete in Him, our glorious Head, 
 With Jesus raised from the dead, 
 And by His mighty Spirit led ! 
 
 O blessed Lord, is this for me ? 
 Then let my whole life henceforth be 
 One Alleluia-song to Thee ! 
 
 
 
 FRESH SPRINGS. 
 
 ** All my fresh springs shall be in Thee.’’—Ps. Ixxxvii. 7. (Prayer Book Version.) 
 
 E- EAR the Father’s ancient promise ! 
 Listen, thirsty, weary one ! 
 “J will pour My Holy Spirit 
 On thy chosen seed, O Son.” 
 Promise to the Lord’s Anointed, 
 Gift of God to Him for thee! 
 Now, by covenant appointed, 
 All thy springs in Him shall be. 
 
88 
 
 TS ELSE ey ee Tae Oe ane ae 
 
 UNDER THE SURFACE. 
 
 
 
 Springs of life in desert places 
 Shall thy God unseal for thee ; 
 Quickening and reviving graces, — 
 Dew-like, healing, sweet and free. 
 Springs of sweet refreshment flowing, 
 When thy work is hard or long, 
 Courage, hope, and power bestowing, 
 Lightening labor with a song. 
 
 Springs of peace, when conflict heightens, 
 Thine uplifted eye shall see ; 
 
 Peace that strengthens, calms, and brightens, 
 Peace, itself a victory. 
 
 Springs of comfort, strangely springing, 
 Through the bitter wells of woe ; 
 
 Founts of hidden gladness, bringing 
 Joy that earth can ne’er. bestow. 
 
 Thine, O Christian, is this treasure, 
 To Thy risen Head assured ! 
 Thine in full and gracious measure, 
 Thine by covenant secured ! 
 Now arise! His word possessing, 
 Claim the promise of the Lord ; 
 Plead through Christ for showers a blessing, 
 Till the Spirit be outpoured ! 
 
 
 

 
 FAITHFUL PROMISES. 
 
 
 
 Pade tel PROMISES, 
 
 NEW YEAR’S HYMN. 
 
 Isa. xli. 10. 
 
 TANDING at the portal 
 Of the opening year, 
 Words of comfort meet us, 
 Hushing every fear. 
 Spoken through the silence 
 By our Father’s voice, 
 Tender, strong, and faithful, 
 Making ts rejoice. 
 Onward, then, and fear not, 
 Children of the Day ! 
 For His word shall never, 
 Never pass away ! 
 
 I, the Lord, am with thee, 
 Be thou not afraid ! 
 I wili help and strengthen, 
 Be thou not dismayed ! 
 Yea, I will uphold thee 
 With My own Right Hand ; 
 Thou art called and chosen 
 In My sight to stand. 
 Onward, then, and fear not, 
 Children of the Day! 
 For His word shall never, 
 Never pass away ! 
 
 89 
 
UNDER THE SURFACE, ~ 
 
 For the year before us, 
 Oh what rich supplies ! 
 For the poor and needy 
 Living streams shall rise ; 
 For the sad and sinful 
 Shall His grace abound ; 
 For the faint and feeble 
 Perfect strength be found. 
 - Onward, then, and fear not, 
 Children of the Day ! 
 For His word shall never, 
 Never pass away ! 
 
 He will never fail us, 
 He will not forsake ; 
 His eternal covenant 
 He will never break ! 
 Resting on His promise, 
 What have we to fear ? 
 God is all-sufficient 
 For the coming year. 
 Onward, then, and fear not, 
 Children of the Day ! 
 For His word shall never, 
 Never pass away ! 
 
 
 

 
 THE FAITHFUL COMFORTER. 
 
 
 
 OL 
 
 
 
 THE FAITHFUL COMFORTER. 
 
 “The Holy Ghost—He is faithful.”—Hurs. x. 15, 23. 
 
 O Thee, O Comforter Divine, 
 
 For all Thy grace and power benign, 
 
 Sing we Alleluia! 
 
 To Thee, whose faithful love had place 
 In God’s great Covenant of Grace, 
 Sing we Alleluia ! 
 
 To Thee, whose faithful voice doth win 
 The wandering from the ways of sin, 
 Sing we Alleluia ! 
 
 To Thee, whose faithful power doth heal, 
 Enlighten, sanctify, and seal, 
 Sing we Alleluia ! 
 
 To Thee, whose faithful truth is shown, 
 By every promise made our own, 
 Sing we Alleluia! 
 
 To Thee, our Teacher and our Friend, 
 Our faithful Leader to the end, 
 Sing we Alleluia ! 
 
 To Thee, by Jesus Christ sent down, 
 Of all His gifts the sum and crown, 
 Sing we Alleluia ! 
 
UNDER THE SURFACE. Ra 5 
 
 To Thee, who art with God the Son 
 And God the Father ever One, 
 Sing we Alleluia! Amen! 
 
 
 
 ONDER HIS SHADOW. 
 
 (COMMUNION HYMN.) 
 
 **T sat down under his shadow with great dclight.”.—Canr. 11.3. 
 
 IT down beneath His shadow, 
 And rest with great delight ; 
 ~The faith that now beholds Him 
 Is pledge of future sight. 
 
 Our Master’s love remember, 
 Exceeding great and free ; 
 Lift up thy heart in gladness, 
 
 For He remembers thee. 
 
 Bring every weary burden, 
 Thy sin, thy fear, thy grief ; 
 
 He calls the heayy laden, 
 And gives them kind relief. 
 
 His righteousness ‘all glorious” 
 Thy festal robe shall be ; 
 
 And love that passeth knowledge 
 His banner over thee. 
 
 
 

 
 THE TRIUNE PRESENCE, 93 
 
 
 
 A little while, though parted, 
 Remember, wait, and love, 
 
 Until He comes in glory, 
 Until we meet above. 
 
 Till in the Father’s kingdom 
 The heavenly feast is spread, 
 
 And we behold His beauty, 
 Whose blood for us was shed ! 
 
 
 
 S27 JARIUNE PRESENCE. 
 (BIRTHDAY OR NEW YEAR’S HYMN.) 
 “Certainly I will be with thee.’’—Exop. iii. 12. 
 
 ERTAINLY I will be with thee !” Father, I have 
 found it true: 
 
 To Thy faithfulness and mercy I would set my seal 
 anew. . 
 
 All the year Thy grace hath kept me, Thou my help 
 indeed hast been, 
 
 Marvellous the loving-kindness every day and hour hath 
 seen. 
 
 “Certainly I will be with thee!” Let me feel it, 
 Saviour dear, 
 
 Let me know that Thou art with me, very precious, very 
 near. : 
 
as os 
 Oe “a , ix . 
 7) 
 
 ae ne Fsial ha! gale, 
 ma : 
 ¥ 
 
 94 UNDER THE SURFACE. 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 On this day ofsolemn pausing, with Bak all longing , 
 still, ey: 
 
 ‘Let Thy pardon, let Thy presence, let Thy peace a i . 
 Aa fill. ie 
 
 ‘* Certainly I will be with thee!” 
 to me, 
 
 Rest upon me, dwell within me, 
 ple be; 
 
 Through vs trackless year before mm Holy One, with 
 me abide ! 
 
 Teach me, comfort me, and calm me, be my ever-present 
 Guide. 
 
 Blessed Spirit, come 
 
 let my heart Thy tem- 
 
 ‘Certainly I will be with thee!” Starry promise in 
 
 the night ! 
 All uncertainties, like shadows, flée away Wg its 
 light. _ 
 ‘Certainly I will be with thee!” He hath spoken I . 
 have heard : 
 
 True of old, and true this moment, I will trust Jehovah’ 6 By: 
 word. . 
 

 
 CHOSEN IN CHRIST. 95 
 
 Che Church of Christ. 
 
 “Whom He did predestinate, them He also called; and whom He called, 
 them He also justified ; and whom He justified, them He also glorified.’”,-—Rom. 
 viii. 30. 
 
 ——_4——_- 
 
 CHeOsl NV TN -CHRIST. 
 
 *. 
 
 ‘* He hath chosen us in Him before the foundation of the world.’”’—Epu, i. 4. 
 
 THOU chosen Church of Jesus, glorious, blesséd, 
 and secure, 
 Founded on the One Foundation, which forever shall 
 
 endure ; 
 Not thy holiness or beauty can thy strength and safety 
 be, 
 
 But the everlasting love wherewith Jehovah loved thee. 
 
 Chosen by His own good pleasure, by the counsel of His 
 will, 
 
 Mystery of power and wisdom working for His people 
 still ; 
 
 Chosen—in thy mighty Saviour, ere one ray of quicken- 
 ing light 
 
 Beamed upon the chaos waiting for the Word of sov- 
 ereign might. 
 
 Chosen—through the Holy Spirit, through the sanctify- 
 ing grace 
 
 Poured upon His precious vessels, meetened for the heav- 
 enly place ; 
 
96 UNDER THE SURFACE. 
 
 
 
 Chosen—to show forth His praises, to be holy in His 
 sight ; 
 Chosen—unto grace and glory, chosen unto life and light. 
 
 Blesséd be the God and Father of our Saviour Jesus 
 Christ, 
 
 Who hath blessed us with such blessings all uncounted 
 and unpriced ! 
 
 Let our high and holy calling, and our strong salvation 
 be 
 
 Theme of never-ending praises, God of sovereign grace, 
 to Thee ! 
 
 
 
 CALLED. 
 
 ** Partakers of the heavenly calling.”’—Hes. iii. 1. 
 
 ei brethren, called and chosen by the sovereign 
 Voice of Might, 
 See your high and holy calling out of dopk ane into 
 light ! 
 Called according to His purpose and the riches of His 
 love ; 
 Won to listen by the leading of the gentle heavenly Dove! 
 
 Called to suffer with our Master, patiently to run His 
 Trace 5 
 Called a blessing to inherit, called to holiness and grace ; 
 
 
 
 
 
ene ee 
 
 
 
 JUSTIFIED. 97 
 
 Called to fellowship with Jesus, by the Ever-Faithful 
 One; 
 Called to His eternal glory, to the kingdom of His Son. 
 
 Whom He calleth He preserveth, and His glory they 
 shall see ; 
 
 ‘He is faithful that hath called you; He will do it, fear 
 not ye! 
 
 Therefore, holy brethren, onward! thus ye make your 
 calling sure ; | 
 
 For the prize of this high calling bravely to the end 
 endure. 
 
 
 
 JUSTIFIED. 
 
 “This is the name wherewith she shall be called, The Lord our Righteousness.” 
 —JER. xxxiii. 16. 
 
 SRAEL of God, awaken! Church of Christ, arise 
 
 and shine ! ; 
 
 Mourning garb and soiléd raiment henceforth be no 
 longer thine ! 
 
 For the Lord thy God hath clothed thee with a new and 
 glorious dress, 
 
 With the garments of salvation, with the robe of right- 
 eousness. 
 
 By the grace of God the Father, thou art freely justified, 
 Through the great redemption purchased by the blood of 
 Him who died ; 
 7 
 
98 UNDER THE SURFACE. 
 
 By His life, for thee fulfilling God’s command exceeding | 
 broad, 
 
 By His glorious resurrection, seal and signet of thy God. 
 
 Therefore, justified forever by the faith which He hath 
 
 ; given, 
 
 Peace, and joy, and hope abounding, smooth thy trial 
 path to heaven : 
 
 Unto Him betrothed forever, who thy life shall crown ~ 
 and. bless, 
 
 By His name thou shalt be calléd, Christ, ‘‘ The Lord our 
 Righteousness ! ” 
 
 
 
 JOINED TO CHRIST. 
 
 6 Head over all things to the church, which is His body.”*—EPH. i. 22, 23. 
 
 OINED to Christ in mystic union, 
 We Thy members, Thou our Head, 
 Sealed by deep and true communion, 
 Risen with Thee, who once were dead— 
 Saviour, we would humbly claim 
 All the power of this Thy name. 
 
 Instant sympathy to brighten 
 All their weakness and their woe, 
 Guiding grace their way to lighten, 
 Shall Thy loving members know 3 
 All their sorrows Thou dost bear, 
 All Thy gladness they shall share. 
 
 
 

 
 GLORIFIED. 99 
 
 Make Thy members every hour 
 For Thy blessed service meet ; 
 Earnest tongues, and arms of power, 
 Skillful hands, and hastening feet, 
 Ever ready to fulfill 
 All Thy word and all Thy will. 
 
 ‘Everlasting life Thou givest, 
 Everlasting love to see ; 
 
 They shall live because Thou livest, 
 And their life is hid with Thee. 
 
 Safe Thy members shall be found, 
 
 When their glorious Head is crowned ! 
 
 GLORIFTIED. 
 
 ‘The God of all grace, who hath called you unto His eternal glory by Christ 
 Jesus . . . to Him be glory.”—1 PEt. v. 10, 11. 
 
 OVEREHIGN Lord and gracious Master, 
 Thou didst freely choose Thine own, 
 Thou hast called with mighty calling, | 
 Thou wilt save, and keep from falling ; 
 Thine the glory, Thine alone ! 
 Yet Thy hand shall crown in heaven 
 All the grace Thy love hath given ; 
 Just, though undeserved reward 
 From our glorious, gracious Lord. 
 
100 UNDER THE SURFACE. 
 
 
 
 From the martyr and apostle 
 To the sainted baby boy, 
 Every consecrated chalice 
 In the King of Glory’s palace 
 Overflows with holy joy. 
 Sovereign choice of gift and dower, 
 Differing honor, differing power,— 
 Yet are all alike in this, 
 Perfect love and perfect bliss. — 
 
 In those heavenly constellations 
 Lo ! what differing glories meet ; 
 Stars of radiance soft and tender, 
 Stars of full and dazzling splendor, 
 All in God’s own light complete ; 
 Brightest they whose holy feet, 
 Faithful to His service sweet, 
 Nearest to their Master trod, 
 Winning wandering souls to God. 
 
 Oh, the rapture of that vision ! 
 (Every earthly passion o’er), 
 Our Redeemer’s coronation, 
 And the blissful exaltation 
 Of the dear ones gone before! . 
 Grace that shone for Christ below, 
 Changed to glory we shall know ; 
 And before His unveiled face 
 Sing the glory of His grace, 
 
 
 

 
 NOW AND AFTERWARD. 101 
 
 
 
 Pow and Afterward. 
 
 ‘* Nevertheless, afterward.’’—Herp. xii. 11. 
 ‘* And afterward receive me to glory.’’—Ps. Ixxiii. 24. 
 
 oy 
 
 NOW AND AFTERWARD. 
 
 OW, the sowing and the weeping, 
 Working hard and waiting long ; 
 Afterward, the golden reaping, 
 Harvest home and grateful song. 
 
 Now, the pruning, sharp, unsparing ; 
 Scattered blossom, bleeding shoot ! 
 Afterward, the plenteous bearing 
 Of the Master’s pleasant fruit. 
 
 Now, the plunge, the briny burden, 
 Blind, faint gropings in the sea ; 
 
 Afterward, the pearly guerdon 
 That shall make the diver free. 
 
 Now, the long and toilsome duty, 
 Stone by stone to.carve and bring ; 
 Afterward, the perfect beauty 
 Of the palace of the King. 
 
 Now, the tuning and the tension, 
 Wailing minors, discord strong ; 
 Afterward, the grand ascension 
 Of the Alleluia song. 
 
102 UNDER THE SURFACE. 
 
 Now, the spirit conflict-riven, 
 Wounded heart, unequal strife ; — 
 
 Afterward, the triumph given, 
 And the victor’s crown of life. 
 
 Now, the training, strange and lowly, 
 Unexplained and tedious now : 
 Afterward, the service holy, 
 And the Master’s ‘‘ Enter thou !” 
 
 
 
 “TEMPTED AND TRIED 
 
 *“*FTXEMPTED and tried !”. 
 Oh ! the terrible tide 
 May be raging and deep, may be wrathful and wide ! 
 Yet its fury is vain, 
 For the Lord shall restrain ; 
 And forever and ever Jehovah shall reign. 
 
 «Tempted and tried ! ” 
 There is One at thy side, 
 And never in vain shall His children confide ! 
 He shall save and defend, 
 For He loves to the end, 
 Adorable Master and glorious Friend ! 
 
 “Tempted and tried !” 
 Whate’er may betide, 
 In His secret pavilion His children shall hide ! 
 
 
 

 
 NOT FORSAKEN. 103 
 
 
 
 *Neath the shadowing wing 
 Of Hternity’s King 
 His children shall trust and His servants shall sing. 
 
 «‘Tempted and tried !” 
 Yet the Lord shall abide 
 Thy faithful Redeemer, thy Keeper and Guide, 
 Thy Shield and thy Sword, 
 Thine exceeding Reward ! 
 Then enough for the servant to be as his Lord ! 
 
 ‘‘Tempted and tried !” 
 The Saviour who died 
 Hath called thee to suffer and reign by His side. 
 His cross thou shalt bear, 
 And His crown thou shalt wear, 
 And forever and ever His glory shalt share. 
 
 
 
 NOT FORSAKEN. 
 
 Answer to an extremely beautiful but utterly melancholy sonnet, entitled 
 “ Forsaken.” 
 H, not forsaken! God gives better things 
 Than thou hast asked in thy forlornest hour. 
 Love’s promises shall be fulfilled in power. 
 Not death, but life; not silence, but the strings 
 Of angel-harps ; no deep, cold sea, but springs 
 Of living water ; no dim, wearied sight, 
 Nor time, nor tear-mist, but the joy of light ; 
 
 =—FeoS, a . 
 
104 UNDER THE SURFACE. 
 eee 
 Not sleep, but rest that happy service brings ; 
 And no forgotten name thy lot shall be, 
 But God’s remembrance. Thou canst never drift 
 Beyond His love. Would I could reach thee where 
 The shadows droop so heavily, and lift 
 The cold weight from thy life !—And if I care 
 For one unknown, oh, how much more doth HE! 
 
 
 
 LISTENING [IN DARKNESS—SPEAKING 
 LN LIGHT. 
 
 ‘* What I tell you in darkness, that speak ye in light.”—Marv, x. 27. 
 
 E hath spoken in the darkness, 
 In the silence of the night, 
 Spoken sweetly of the Father, 
 Words of life and love and light. 
 Floating through the somber stillness 
 Came the loved and loving Voice, 
 Speaking peace and solemn gladness, 
 That His children might rejoice. 
 What He tells thee in the darkness— 
 Songs He giveth in the night— 
 Rise and speak it in the morning, 
 Rise and sing them in the light ! 
 
 
 
 . / dj ‘i a 
 el I cet ee oe ed Be 
 
 He hath spoken in the darkness, 
 In the silence of thy grief, 
 
 Sympathy so deep and tender, 
 Mighty for thy heart-relief. 
 
 
 

 
 EVENING TEARS AND MORNING SONGS. 105 
 
 Speaking in thy night of sorrow 
 Words of comfort and of calm, - 
 Gently on thy wounded spirit 
 Pouring true and healing balm. 
 What He tells thee in the darkness, 
 Weary watcher for the day, 
 Grateful lip and life should utter 
 When the shadows flee away. 
 
 He is speaking in the darkness, 
 Though thou canst not see His face, 
 
 More than angels ever needed, 
 Mercy, pardon, love, and grace. 
 
 Speaking of the many mansions, 
 Where, in safe and holy rest, 
 
 Thou shalt be with Him forever, 
 Perfectly and always blest. 
 
 What He tells thee in the darkness, 
 Whispers through Time’s lonely night, 
 
 Thou shalt speak in glorious praises, 
 In the everlasting light ! 
 
 
 
 EVENING TEARS AND MORNING SONGS. 
 
 “Weeping may endure in the evening, but singing cometh in the morning.”’— 
 Ps. xxx. 5 (Margin). 
 le the evening there is weeping, 
 Lengthening shadows, failing sight ; 
 Silent darkness slowly creeping 
 Over all things dear and bright. 
 
106 UNDER THE SURFACE. 
 
 In the evening there is weeping, 
 Lasting all the twilight through ; 
 
 Phantom shadows, never sleeping, 
 Wakening slumbers of the true. 
 
 In the morning cometh singing, 
 Cometh joy and cometh sight, 
 
 When the sun ariseth, bringing 
 Healing on his wings of light. 
 
 In the morning cometh singing, 
 Songs that ne’er in silence end, 
 
 Angel minstrels ever bringing 
 Praises new with thine to blend. 
 
 Are the twilight shadows casting 
 Heavy glooms upon thy heart ? 
 
 Soon in radiance everlasting 
 Night forever shall depart. 
 
 Art thou weeping, sad and lonely 
 Through the evening of thy days ? 
 
 All thy sighing shall be only 
 Prelude of more perfect praise. 
 
 Darkest hour is nearest dawning, 
 Solemn herald of the day ; 
 
 Singing cometh in the morning, 
 God shall wipe thy tears away ! 
 
 
 
 
 

 
 PEACEABLE FRUIT. 107 
 
 
 
 PEACEHABLE FRUTT. 
 
 ‘*Nevertheless, afterward it yielded the peaceable fruit of righteousness.’’— 
 Hes, xii. 11. 
 HAT shall Thine ‘‘ afterward ” be, O Lord, 
 For this dark and suffering night ? 
 Father, what shall-Thine ‘‘ afterward ” be ? 
 Hast Thou a morning of joy for me, 
 And a new and joyous light ? 
 
 What shall Thine “‘ afterward ” be, O Lord, 
 For the moan that I cannot stay ? 
 
 Shall it issue in some new song of praise, 
 
 Sweeter than sorrowless heart could raise, 
 When the night hath passed away ? 
 
 What shall Thine “ afterward” be, O Lord 
 For this helplessness of pain ? 
 
 A clearer view of my home above, 
 
 Of my Father’s strength and my Father’s love— 
 Shall this be my lasting gain ? 
 
 What shall Thine ‘‘ afterward ” be, O Lord ? 
 How long must Thy child endure ? 
 
 Thou knowest! ’Tis well that I know it not ! 
 
 Thine ‘‘afterward ” cometh—I cannot tell what, 
 But I know that Thy word is sure. 
 
 What shall Thine “afterward” be, O Lord ? 
 I wonder, and wait to see 
 
 (While to Thy chastening Hand I bow) 
 
 What “‘ peaceable fruit” may be ripening now— 
 Ripening fast for me ! 
 
108 UNDER THE SURFACE. 
 
 THE COL DE BALI 
 
 ‘NUNSHINE and silence on the Col de Balm ! 
 I stood above the mists, above the rush 
 Of all the torrents, when one marvellous hush 
 Filled God’s great mountain temple, vast and calm, 
 With hallelujah light, as seen through silent psalm :— 
 
 Crossed with one discord, only one. For Love 
 Cried out, and would be heard. ‘‘ If ye were here, 
 O friends, so far away and yet so near, 
 
 Then were the anthem perfect!’ And the cry 
 
 Threaded the concords of that Alpine harmony. 
 
 Not vain the same fond cry if first I stand 
 
 Upon the mountain of our God, and long, 
 
 Even in the glory, and with His new song 
 Upon my lips, that you should come and share 
 The bliss of heaven, imperfect still till all are there. 
 
 Dear ones! shall it be mine to watch you come 
 Up from the shadows and the valley mist, 
 To tread the jacinth and the amethyst, 
 
 To rest and sing upon the stormless height, 
 
 In the deep calm of love and everlasting light ? 
 
 
 
 ‘EVE HATH NOT SEE 
 
 OU never write of heaven, 
 Though you write of heavenly themes ; 
 You never paint the glory 
 But in reflected gleams ! ” 
 
 66 
 
 
 

 
 “RYE HATH NOT SEEN.” 109 
 
 My pencil only pictures 
 What Ihave known and seen : 
 How can I tell the joys that dwell 
 Where I have never been ? 
 
 I sing the songs of Zion, 
 But I would never dare 
 To imitate the chorus, 
 Like many waters, there. 
 I sketch the sunny landscape, 
 But can I paint the sun ? 
 Can that by art, which human heart 
 Conceiveth not, be won? 
 
 The Laplander that never 
 Hath left his fiowerless snows, 
 
 Might make another realize : 
 The fragrance of the rose : 
 
 The blind might teach his brother 
 Each subtle tint to know, 
 
 Of lovely lights and summer sights, 
 Of shadow and of glow: 
 
 To whom all sound is silence, 
 The dumb man might impart 
 The spirit-winging marvels 
 Of Handel’s sacred art: 
 But never, sister, never, 
 Was told by mortal breath, 
 What they behold, o’er whom hath rolled 
 The one dark wave of death. 
 
 
 
110 
 
 UNDER THE SURFACE. 
 
 Yet angel-echoes reach us, 
 Borne on from star to star, 
 
 And glimpses of our purchased home, 
 
 Not always faint and far. 
 
 No harp seraphic brings them, 
 No poet’s glowing word; 
 
 By One alone revealed and known— 
 The Spirit of the Lord. 
 
 Have we not bent in sadness 
 Before the mercy-seat, 
 
 And longed with speechless longing 
 To kiss the Master’s feet? 
 
 And though for precious ointment 
 We had but tears to bring, 
 
 We let them flow, and could not go 
 Till we had seen our King. 
 
 Then came a flash of seeing 
 How every cloud should pass, 
 
 And vision should be perfect, 
 Undimmed by darkling glass. 
 
 The glory that excelleth 
 Shone out with sudden ray, 
 
 We seemed to stand so near ‘‘ the land,” 
 No longer ‘“‘ far away ”— 
 
 The glisten of the white robe, 
 The waving of the palm, 
 
 The ended sin and sorrow, 
 The sweet eternal calm, 
 
 
 

 
 RIGHT! 111 
 
 The holy adoration 
 That perfect love shall bring, 
 And, face to face, in glorious grace, 
 The beauty of the King! 
 
 Oh, this is more than poem, 
 And more than highest song ; 
 A witness with our spirit, 
 Though hidden, full and strong. 
 *Tis no new revelation 
 Vouchsafed to saint or sage, 
 But light from God cast bright and broad 
 Upon the sacred page. 
 
 Our fairest dream can never 
 Outshine that holy light, 
 
 Our noblest thought can never soar 
 Beyond that Word of might. 
 
 Our whole anticipation, 
 Our Master’s best reward, 
 
 Our crown of bliss, is summed in this— 
 “Forever with the Lord!” 
 
 
 
 RIGHT | 
 
 SCENE I. 
 
 HE summer sun was high and strong, 
 And dust was on the traveler’s feet ; 
 
112 UNDER THE SURFACE. 
 
 Oh, weary was the stage and long, © 
 And burning was the early heat ! ° 
 There was a pause. For Ernest stood 
 
 Upon the borders of a wood. 
 
 Between him and his home it lay, 
 Stretching in mystery away. 
 
 “What might be there he could not tell, 
 Of briery steep, or mossy dell, 
 
 Of bog or brake, of glen or glade, 
 
 All hidden by the dim green shade. 
 
 He had not passed that way before, 
 And wonderingly he waited now, 
 While mystic voices, o’er and o’er, 
 Soft whispered on from bough to bough. 
 Oh, was it only wind and trees 
 That made such gentle whisperings ? 
 Or was it some sweet spirit breeze 
 That bore a message on its wings, 
 And bid the traveler that day | 
 Go forward on his woodland way ? 
 
 How should he know? He had no clue, 
 And more than one fair opening lay 
 
 Before him, where the broad boughs threw 
 Cool, restful shade across the way. 
 
 Which should he choose ? He could not trace 
 The onward track by vision keen ; 
 
 The drooping branches interlace, 
 Not far the winding paths are seen. 
 
 
 

 
 RIGHT ! 113 
 
 Oh, forasign! Were choice not right, 
 Was no return, for well he knew 
 
 The hours were short, and swift the night ; 
 Once entered, he must hasten through. 
 
 For what hath been can never be 
 As if it had not been at all; 
 We gaze, but never more can we 
 Retrace one footstep’s wavering fall. 
 Oh, how we need from day to day 
 A guiding hand for all the way ; 
 Oh, how we need from hour to hour 
 That faithful, ever-present Power ! 
 
 Which should he choose ? He pondered long, 
 And with the sounds of bird and bee, 
 
 He blent an oft-repeated song, 
 A soft and suppliant melody. 
 
 ‘Oh, for a light from heaven, 
 
 Clear and divine, 
 
 Now on the paths before me 
 Brightly to shine ! 
 
 Oh, for a hand to beckon ! 
 Oh, for a voice to say, 
 
 ‘ Follow in firm assurance— 
 This is the way !’ 
 
 ‘« Listening to mingling voices, 
 Seeking a guiding hand, 
 Watching for light from heaven, 
 Waiting I stand. 
 8 
 
 
 
 
 
114 
 
 UNDER THE SURFACE. 
 
 Onward and homeward pressing, 
 Nothing my feet should stay, 
 
 Might I but plainly hear it,— 
 ‘This is the way !’” 
 
 Was it indeed an answer given, 
 
 That whisper through the tree-tops o’er him ? 
 Was it indeed a light from heaven, 
 
 That fell upon the path before him ? 
 Or was it only that he met 
 
 The wayward playing of the breeze, 
 Parting the heavy boughs to let, 
 
 The sunshine fall among the trees ? 
 Again he listened—did it say, 
 ‘This is the onward, homeward way ?” 
 Perhaps it did. He would not wait, 
 But pressing toward a Mansion Gate 
 That, yet unseen, all surely stood, 
 Beyond the untried, unknown wood, 
 And trusting that his prayer was heard, 
 Although he caught no answering word, 
 And gazing on with calm, clear eye, 
 The straightest, surest path to spy 
 (Not seeking out the smooth and bright, 
 If he might only choose the right), 
 With hopeful heart and manly tread, 
 Into the forest depths he sped. 
 
 SCENE II. 
 
 Hours flit on, and the sunshine fails in the zenith of day; 
 Hours flit on, and the loud wind crashes and moans 
 
 p) : “ 
 o’er the ridge ; 
 
 
 

 
 RIGHT ! : 115 
 
 OO ee 
 
 Heavily beateth the strong rain, lashing the miry clay, 
 Hoarsely roareth the torrent under the quivering 
 bridge. 
 
 Under the shivering pine trees, over the slippery stone, 
 Over the rugged boulder, over the cold wet weed, 
 Ernest the traveler passeth, storm-beaten, weary, and 
 lone, | 
 Only following faintly whither the path may lead. 
 
 Leading down to the valleys, dank in the shadow of 
 
 death, 
 Leading on through the briers, poisonous, keen, and 
 sore } 
 Leading up to the grim rocks, mounted with panting 
 breath, 
 
 -Only to gain a glimpse of sterner toil before. 
 
 Faint and wounded and bleeding, hungry, thirsty, and 
 chill, 
 Hardly a step before him seen through the tangled 
 brake, 
 Rougher and wilder the storm-blast, steeper the thorn- 
 grown hill, 
 Brave heart and bright eye and strong limb, well may 
 ‘hey quiver and ache ! 
 
 Was tt indeed the right way ? Was it a God-led choice, 
 Followed in faith and patience, and chosen not for 
 ease ? 
 
116 UNDER THE SURFACE. 
 
 Was it a false, false gleam, and a mocking, mocking voice 
 That fell on the woodland pathway, and murmured 
 among the trees ? 
 
 Oh, the dire mistake ! fatal freedom to choose ! 
 Had he but taken a fair path, sheltered, level, and 
 straight, 
 Never a thorn to wound him, never a stone to bruise, 
 Leading safely and softly on to the Mansion Gate ! 
 
 Was it the wail of a wind-harp, cadencing weird and 
 long, 
 Pulsing under the pine trees, dying to wake again ? 
 Is it the voice of a brave heart striving to utter in song © 
 Agony, prayer, and reliance, courage and wonder and 
 pain ? 
 
 ‘“¢Qnward and homeward ever, 
 
 Battling with dark distress, 
 
 Faltering, but yielding never, 
 Still shall my faint feet press. 
 
 Why was no beckoning hand 
 Sent in my doubt and need ? 
 
 Why did no true guide stand 
 Guiding me right indeed ? 
 
 Why? They will tell me all 
 When I have reached the gate, 
 
 Where, in the shining hall, 
 Many my coming wait. 
 
 
 

 
 RIGHT ! ue be 
 
 *“Oh, the terrible night, 
 Falling without a star ! 
 Darkness anear, but light— 
 Glorious light afar. 
 
 Oh, the perilous way ! 
 
 _ Oh, the pitiless blast ! 
 
 Long though I suffer and stray, 
 There will be rest at last. 
 
 Perhaps I have far to go! 
 Perhaps but a little way ! 
 
 Well that I do not know! 
 Onward! I must not stay. 
 
 
 
 ‘¢Splinter and thorn and brier, 
 Yet may be sore and keen ; 
 Rocks may be rougher and higher, 
 Hollows more chill between. 
 There may be torrents to cross, 
 Bridgeless, and fierce with foam ; 
 Rest in the wild wood were loss, 
 There will be rest at home. 
 Battling with dark distress, 
 Faltering, but yielding never, 
 Still shall my faint feet press 
 Onward and homeward ever!” 
 
 Pulsing under the pine trees, dying, dying,—and gone,— 
 Gone that Aolian cadence, silent the firm refrain ; 
 Only the how] of the storm-wind rages cruelly on ; 
 Has the traveler fallen, vanquished by toil and pain ? 
 
118 UNDER THE SURFACE, 
 
 
 
 SCENE III. 
 
 Morning, morning on the mountains, golden-vestured, 
 snowy-browed ! 
 
 Morning light of clear resplendence, shining forth with- 
 out a cloud ; 
 
 Morning songs of jubilation, thrilling through the crys- 
 tal air ; 
 
 Morning joy upon all faces, new and radiant, pure and fair! 
 
 At the portals of the mansion Ernest stands and gazes 
 
 back. 
 
 There is light upon the river, light upon the forest 
 track ; 
 
 Light upon the darkest valley, light upon the sternest 
 height ; 
 
 Light upon the brake and bramble, everywhere that glo- 
 rious light ! 
 
 Strong and joyous stands the traveler, in the morning 
 glory now, 
 
 Not a shade upon the brightness of the cool and peaceful 
 brow ; 
 
 Not a trace of weary faintness, not a touch of lingering 
 pain, 
 
 Not a scar to wake the memory of the suffering hours 
 again. 
 
 Onward by the winding pathway, many another jour- 
 neyed fast, 
 
 Hastening to the princely mansion by the way that he — 
 had passed ; 
 

 
 RIGHT ! 119 
 
 Spared the doubting and the erring by those footsteps 
 bravely placed 
 
 In the clogging mire, or trampling on the wounding 
 bramble-waste. 
 
 Some had followed close behind him, pressing to the 
 self-same mark, 
 
 Cheered and guided by the refrain of that singer in the 
 dark ; 
 
 Some were near him in the tempest, while he thought 
 himself alone, 
 
 And regained a long-lost pathway, following that beck- 
 oning tone. 
 
 Some who patiently, yet feebly, sought to reach that 
 mansion too, 
 
 Caught the unseen singer’s courage, battled on with vigor 
 new ; 
 
 Some exhausted in the struggle, sunk in slumber chill 
 and deep, . 
 
 Started at that strange voice near them, rousing from 
 their fatal sleep. 
 
 Now they meet and gather round him, and together en- 
 ter In, 
 
 Where the rest is consummated and the joys of home 
 begin, 
 
 Where the tempest cannot reach them, where the wan- 
 derings are past, 
 
 Where the sorrows of the journey not a single shadow 
 cast. 
 
120 UNDER THE SURFACE. 
 
 
 
 Singing once in dismal forest, singing once in cruel 
 storm, : 
 
 Singing now at home in gladness in the sunshine bright 
 and warm, 
 
 Once again the voice resoundeth, pouring forth a happy 
 song, 
 
 While a chorus of rejoicing swells the sweet notes full 
 and long. 3 
 
 “Light after darkness, 
 Gain after loss, 
 Strength after suffering, 
 Crown after cross. 
 Sweet after bitter, 
 Song after sigh, 
 Home after wandering, 
 Praise after cry. 
 
 ‘« Sheaves after sowing, 
 Stin after rain, 
 Sight after mystery, 
 Peace after pain. 
 Joy after sorrow, 
 Calm after blast, 
 Rest after weariness, 
 Sweet rest at last. 
 
 “‘ Near after distant, 
 Gleam after gloom, 
 
 Love after loneliness, 
 Life after tomb. 
 

 
 “BELLS ACROSS THE SNOW.” 121 
 
 ——————————— 
 
 After long agony, 
 Rapture of bliss ! 
 
 Right was the pathway 
 Leading to this!’’ 
 
 
 
 Songs. 
 
 —_+—_—_— 
 
 PBHELS ACROSS THE SNOW.” 
 
 () CHRISTMAS! merry Christmas! 
 Is it really come again, 
 With its memories and greetings, 
 With its joy and with its pain ? 
 There’s a minor in the carol, 
 And a shadow in the light, 
 And a spray of cypress twining 
 With the holly wreath to-night. 
 And the hush is never broken 
 By laughter light and low, 
 As we listen in the starlight 
 To the ‘‘ bells across the snow.” 
 
 O Christmas, merry Christmas! 
 "Tis not so very long 
 
 Since other voices blended 
 With the carol and the song ! 
 
 If we could but hear them singing 
 As they are singing now, 
 
122 UNDER THE SURFACE. 
 
 If we could but see the radiance 
 Of the crown on each dear brow, 
 There would be no sigh to smother, 
 No hidden tear to flow, 
 As we listen in the starlight 
 To the ‘bells across the snow.” 
 
 O Christmas, merry Christmas ! 
 This never more can be ; 
 
 We cannot bring again the days 
 Of our unshadowed glee. 
 
 But Christmas, happy Christmas, 
 Sweet herald of goodwill, 
 
 With holy songs of glory 
 Brings holy gladness still. 
 
 For peace and hope may brighten, 
 And patient love may glow, 
 
 As we listen in the starlight 
 To the ‘‘ bells across the snow.” 
 
 
 
 SINGING AT SUNSET. 
 
 ID you hear it at the sunset ? 
 Happy, happy thrush ! 
 
 Caroling and trilling 
 
 Through the evening hush. 
 Singing at the sunset, 
 
 Singing, singing sweet, 
 Where the shadows and the splendor 
 
 Softly, softly meet ; 
 

 
 HEATHER LINTIE. 123 
 
 
 
 Pouring out the full notes, 
 Ringing, ringing loud, 
 When the gold-is on the beeches, 
 And the crimson on the cloud ! 
 Singing at the sunset ! 
 
 Happy, happy song. 
 
 - Shall we listen in the sunset, 
 Listen, listen long, 
 Silent for the glory, 
 Silent for the song ? 
 Singing at the sunset, 
 Angel voices hear, 
 And the harpings of the harpers 
 Ringing, ringing clear ; 
 Nearing all the gladness, - 
 Leaving all the gloom, 
 When the light is on the river, 
 And the glory on the tomb! 
 Singing at the sunset ! 
 Happy, happy song. 
 
 —_+___ $6 
 
 SOILED DET BSD oes 
 
 Te 
 
 ‘e EATHER Lintie, tell me, pray, 
 Why the Snow-wreath went away ?” 
 
 
 
 —. — 
 
 
 
 * “Heather Lintie,”’ a Scotch linnet ; ‘ Burnie,” a little brook. 
 
124 
 
 UNDER THE SURFACE. 
 
 ‘‘Silent Snow-wreath sat alone, 
 Till she heard the laughing call 
 Of the merriest stream of ali 
 In the land. 
 Down the steep from stone to stone, 
 Shyly creeping, smiling, weeping, 
 While a sunbeam held her hand, 
 Snow-wreath found her home ere long, 
 Silence melted into song. 
 Now she flows, but not alone, 
 Singing and rejoicing.” 
 
 II. 
 
 ‘‘Heather Lintie, tell me, pray, 
 Why the Burnie went away ?” 
 
 ‘Burnie laughed adown the hill, 
 Keeping all the flowers awake, 
 Till she saw the purple lake 
 Deep and still. 
 Down the glen from stone to stone, 
 Blithely dancing, glinting, glancing. 
 Singing on in silver tone, 
 Burnie found her home ere long, 
 Silence sweeter far than song ; 
 Now she flows, but not alone, 
 Resting and rejoicing.” 
 
 ITI. 
 
 ‘Heather Lintie, tell me, pray, 
 Why you do not fly away ?” 
 
 eae 
 

 
 SUNBEAM AND DEWDROP. 125 
 
 
 
 Heather Lintie plumed her wing, 
 
 Sang about a happy nest, 
 
 Made with one who loved her best, 
 In the spring; 
 
 Where beneath a boulder-stone 
 
 In the heather all together, 
 
 Warmly nestle all her own. 
 
 Heather Lintie will not roam 
 
 From her sweet and hidden home. 
 
 So she sings, but not alone, 
 Loving and rejoicing. 
 
 
 
 SUNBEAM AND DEWDROP. 
 
 SUNBEAM, O sunbeam ! 
 I would be a sunbeam too ! 
 When the winter chill 
 Hushes lark and rill; 
 When the thunder-showers 
 Bow the weeping flowers ; 
 When the shadows creep 
 Cold, and dark, and deep, 
 We would follow swift and bright, 
 Blending all our love and light, 
 Chasing winter, grim and hoary, 
 Shining all the tears away ; 
 Turning all the gloom to glory, 
 All the darkness into day. 
 
126 
 
 UNDER THE SURFACE. 
 
 O dewdrop, O dewdrop, 
 I would be a dewdrop too ! 
 When the fatal glow, 
 Sultry, still, and slow, 
 Makes the scentless flowers 
 Droop in withering bowers, 
 Leaf and shade and bloom 
 Touched with early doom ; 
 We would follow, sweet and bright, 
 Blending life and love and light : 
 Making what was parched and dreary 
 Glad and lovely, fresh and fair, 
 Softly cheering what was weary, 
 Sparkling, starlike, everywhere. 
 
 
 
 DREAM-STNGING. 
 
 i DREAMT that I was singing, 
 Singing all for thee; 
 
 And still the notes went ringing 
 Far over land and sea. 
 
 Went ringing till they found thee, 
 Though so far away, 
 
 And softly floating round thee, 
 Made music all the day. 
 
 Made music that could cheer thee, 
 Full of gentle glee ; 
 
 Then leaving echoes near thee, 
 Came back again to me. 
 
i es 
 Fe, 
 ws ee 
 — 774 
 
 SHE WAITS FOR ME. 12% 
 
 Came back with love and blessing 
 On their spirit-wings, 
 
 With musical expressing 
 Of sweet and holy things. 
 
 I dreamt that I was singing. 
 _ Come again to me! 
 And all its fairy ringing 
 No more a dream shall be! 
 
 SHE WAITS FOR ME. 
 
 «<7 WAIT for thee!” I said it in the splendor 
 Of golden moons beneath the lonely palms. 
 “<1 wait for thee!” An echo, clear and tender, 
 Fell from the height across the silver calms. 
 For I had waited long, 
 And hope was growing weary, 
 Though faith and love were strong, 
 And lit the path so dreary,— 
 Till o’er the coral sea 
 My love should come to me, 
 ‘Tt wait for thee.” 
 
 “<T wait for thee!” I said it in my dreaming, 
 Then fell a hush beyond the hush of night ; 
 And, fairer far than southern waters gleaming, 
 
 A Presence passed in soft celestial light. 
 
UNDER THE SURFACE. 
 
 
 
 128 
 Then calm and sweet and clear 
 A spirit voice came singing, 
 
 Far, far away, yet near, 
 Like star-bells’ crystal ringing. 
 Oh, well my own heart knew 
 That voice so clear and true— 
 ‘*T wait for thee !” 
 “‘She waits forme!” I said it in my weeping, 
 For never more she cometh o’er the sea ; 
 She waits for me! A glorious vigil keeping 
 Beyond the stars, she waiteth there for me. 
 And now I wait awhile 
 
 Beneath the palm-trees lonely, 
 
 And learn once more to smile, 
 For she hath gladness only. 
 Beside the Crystal Sea, 
 Until the shadows flee, 
 
 She waits for me. 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 ATER 
 Re 
 . = \ 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 fete MINISTRY OF SONG. 
 
 PRELODE, 
 
 MID the broken waters of our ever-restless thought, 
 Oh, be my verse an answering gleam from higher 
 radiance caught ; 
 That where through dark o’erarching boughs of sorrow, 
 doubt, and sin, 
 The glorious Star of Bethlehem upon the flood looks in, 
 Its tiny trembling ray may bid some downcast vision turn 
 To that enkindling Light, for which all earthly shadows 
 yearn. 
 
 Oh, be my verse a hidden stream, which silently may flow 
 Where drooping leaf and thirsty flower in lonely valleys 
 
 grow ; 
 9 129 
 
130 THE MINISTRY OF SONG 
 
 And often by its shady course to pilgrim hearts be 
 brought 
 The quiet and refreshment of an upward- pointing 
 ) thought ; 
 Till, blending with the broad bright stream of sanctified 
 endeavor, 3 . 
 God’s glory be its ocean home, the end it seeketh ever. 
 
 
 
 THE MINISTRY OF SONG, 
 
 Te God’s great field of labor 
 
 All work is not the same ; 
 He hath a service for each one 
 
 Who loves His holy name. 
 And you, to whom the secrets 
 
 Of all sweet sounds are known, 
 Rise up! for He hath called you 
 
 To a mission of your own. 
 And, rightly to fulfill it, 
 
 His grace can make you strong, 
 Who to your charge hath given 
 
 The Ministry of Song. 
 
 Sing to the little children, 
 And they will listen well ; 
 
 Sing grand and holy music, 
 Tor they can feel its spell. 
 
 Tell them the tale of Jephthah ; 
 Then sing them what he said,— 
 

 
 THE MINISTRY OF SONG. 
 
 
 
 “« Deeper and deeper still,” and watch 
 How the little cheek grows red, 
 
 And the little breath comes quicker : 
 They will ne’er forget the tale, 
 
 Which the song has fastened surely, 
 As with a golden nail. 
 
 I remember, late one evening, 
 How the music stopped, for, hark ! 
 Charlie’s nursery door was open, 
 He was calling in the dark : 
 “Oh, no! Iam not frightened, 
 And I do not want a light ; 
 But I cannot sleep for thinking 
 Of the song you sang last night. 
 Something about a ‘valley,’ 
 And ‘make rough places plain,’ 
 And ‘Comfort ye ;’ so beautiful | 
 Oh, sing it me again!” 
 
 Sing at the cottage bedside ; 
 They have no music there, 
 And the voice of praise is silent 
 After the voice of prayer. 
 Sing of the gentle Saviour 
 In the simplest hymns you know, 
 And the pain-dimmed eye will brighten 
 As the soothing verses flow. 
 Better than loudest plaudits 
 The murmured thanks of such, 
 For the King will stoop to crown them 
 With His gracious ‘‘ Inasmuch.” 
 
 131 
 
132 
 
 THE MINISTRY OF SONG. 
 
 Sing, where the full-toned organ 
 Resounds through aisle and nave, 
 And the choral praise ascendeth 
 In concord sweet and grave. 
 Sing, where the village voices 
 Fall harshly on your ear ; 
 And, while more earnestly you join, 
 Less discord you will hear. 
 The noblest and the humblest 
 Alike are “‘common praise,” 
 And not for human ear alone 
 The psalm and hymn we raise. 
 
 Sing in the deepening twilight, 
 When the shadow of eve is nigh, 
 
 And the purple and golden pinions 
 Fold o’er the western sky. 
 
 Sing in the silver silence, 
 While the first moonbeams fall ; 
 
 So shall your power be greater 
 Over the hearts of all. 
 
 Sing till you bear them with you 
 Into a holy calm, | 
 
 And the sacred tones have scattered 
 Manna, and myrrh, and balm. 
 
 Sing! that your song may gladden 3 
 Sing like the happy rills, 
 Leaping in sparkling blessing 
 Fresh from the breezy hills. 
 

 
 THE MINISTRY OF SONG. 133 
 
 Sing! that your song may silence 
 The folly and the jest, 
 
 And the ‘‘idle word” be banished 
 As an unwelcome guest. 
 
 Sing ! that your song may echo 
 After the strain is past, 
 
 A link of the love-wrought cable 
 That holds some vessel fast. 
 
 Sing to the tired and anxious ; 
 It is yours to fling a ray, 
 
 Passing indeed, but cheering, 
 Across the rugged way. 
 
 Sing to God’s holy servants, 
 Weary with loving toil, 
 
 Spent with their faithful labor 
 On oft ungrateful soil. 
 
 The chalice of your music 
 All reverently bear, 
 
 For with the blesséd angels 
 Such ministry you share. 
 
 When you long to bear the Message 
 Home to some troubled breast, 
 
 Then sing with loving fervor, 
 ‘¢Come unto Him, and rest.” 
 
 Or would you whisper comfort 
 Where words bring no relief, 
 
 Sing how “‘ He was despised, 
 Acquainted with our grief.” 
 
134 
 
 THE MINISTRY OF SONG. 
 
 And, aided by His blessing, 
 The song may win its way 
 Where speech had no admittance, 
 And change the night to day. 
 
 Sing, when His mighty mercies 
 
 And marvellous love you feel, 
 And the deep joy of gratitude 
 
 Springs freshly as you kneel ; 
 When words, like morning starlight, 
 
 Melt powerless, —rise and sing ! 
 And bring your sweetest music 
 
 To Him, your gracious King. 
 Pour out your song before Him 
 
 To whom our best is due ; 
 Remember, He who hears your prayer 
 
 Will hear your praises too. 
 
 Sing on in grateful gladness ! 
 Rejoice in this good thing 
 
 Which the Lord thy God hath given thee, 
 
 The happy power to sing. 
 But yield to Him, the Sovereign 
 To whom all gifts belong, 
 In fullest consecration 
 Your Ministry of Song, 
 Until His mercy grant you 
 That resurrection voice, 
 Whose only ministry shall be 
 To praise Him and rejoice. 
 

 
 OUR HIDDEN LEAVES. 
 
 135 
 
 
 
 OUR HIDDEN LEAVES. 
 
 H, the hidden leaves of life, 
 Closely folded in the heart ! 
 Leaves where Memory’s golden finger, 
 Slowly pointing, loves to linger ; 
 _ Leaves that bid the old tears start. 
 
 Leaves where Hope would read the future, 
 Sibylline, and charged with fate : 
 Leaves which calm Submission closeth, 
 While her tearless eye reposeth 
 On the legend, ‘‘' Trust, and wait!” 
 
 Leaves which grave Experience ponders, 
 Soundings for her pilot-charts ; 
 Leaves which God Himself is storing, 
 Records which we read, adoring 
 Him who writes on human hearts. 
 
 All our own, our treasured secrets, 
 Indestructible archives ! 
 
 None can copy, none can steal them, 
 
 Death itself shall not reveal them, 
 Sacred manuscripts of lives. 
 
 Some are filled with fairy pictures, 
 Half imagined and half seen ; ~ 
 
 Radiant faces, fretted towers, 
 
 Sunset colors, starry flowers, 
 Wondrous arabesques between. 
 
THEH MINISTRY OF SONG. 
 
 Some are traced with liquid sunbeams, 
 Some with fire, and some with tears; - 
 
 Some with crimson dyes are glowing, 
 
 From a smitten life-rock flowing 
 Through the wilderness of years. 
 
 Some are crossed with later writing, 
 Palimpsests of earliest days ; 
 
 Old remembrance faintly gleaming 
 
 Through the thinking and the dreaming, 
 Outlines dim in noontide haze. 
 
 One lies open, all unwritten, 
 
 To the glance of careless sight ; 
 Yet it bears a shining story, 
 ‘Traced in phosphorescent glory, 
 
 Only legible by night. 
 
 One is dark with hieroglyphics 
 Of some dynasty of grief: 
 
 Only God, and just one other, 
 
 Dearest friend, or truest brother, 
 Ever read that hidden Jeaf. 
 
 Many a leaf is undeciphered, 
 Writ in languages unknown ; 
 O’er the strange inscription bending 
 (Every clue in darkness ending), 
 Finding no ‘‘ Rosetta Stone,” 
 
 Still we study, always failing ! 
 God can read it, we must wait ; 
 
THREEFOLD PRAISE. toe 
 
 Wait, until He teach the mystery, 
 Then the wisdom-woven history 
 Faith shall read, and Love translate. 
 
 Leaflets now unpaged and scattered 
 Time’s great library receives ; 
 
 When eternity shall bind them, 
 
 Golden volumes we shall find them, 
 God’s light falling on the leaves. 
 
 
 
 THREEFOLD PRAISE. 
 
 HaypN—MENDELSSOHN—H ANDEL. 
 
 ‘We bless Thee for our creation, preservation, and all the blessings of this 
 life ; but above all, for Thine inestimable love in the redemption of the world 
 by our Lord Jesus Christ.” 
 
 AACR Ts Te 
 ‘‘ We bless Thee for our creation.” 
 
 Haydn's *‘ Creation: * 
 
 HAT is the first, simplest praise, 
 The universal debt, 
 Which yet the thoughtless heart of man 
 So quickly may forget? 
 ‘We bless Thee for creation!” 
 So taught the noble band 
 Who left a sound and holy form, 
 For ages yet to stand, 
 Rich legacy of praise and prayer, 
 Laid up through ages past, 
 

 
 138 THE MINISTRY OF SONG. 
 
 
 
 Strong witness for the truth of God : 
 Oh, may we hold it fast ! 
 
 ‘We bless Thee for creation !” 
 So are we blithely taught 
 By Haydn’s joyous spirit ; 
 Such was the praise he brought. 
 A praise all morning sunshine, 
 And sparklets of the spring, 
 O’er which the long life-shadows 
 No chastening softness fling. _ 
 
 A praise of early freshness, 
 Of carol and of trill, 
 
 Re-echoing all the music 
 Of valley and of rill. 
 
 A praise that we are sharing 
 With every singing breeze, 
 
 With nightingales and Hnnets, 
 With waterfalls and trees ; 
 
 With anthems of the flowers 
 Too delicate and sweet 
 
 For all their fairy minstrelsy 
 Our mortal ears to greet. 
 
 A mighty song of blessing 
 Archangels too uplift, 
 
 For their own bright existence, 
 A grand and glorious gift. 
 But such their full life-chalice, 
 So sparkling and so pure, 
 
THREEFOLD PRAISE. 
 
 And such their vivid sense of joy, 
 Sweet, solid, and secure, 
 
 We cannot write the harmonies 
 To such a song of bliss, 
 
 We only catch the melody, 
 And sing, content with this. 
 
 We are but little children, 
 And earth a broken toy ; 
 We do not know the treasures 
 In our Father’s house of joy. 
 Thanksgiving for creation 
 We ignorantly raise ; 
 We know not yet the thousandth part 
 Of that for which we praise. 
 
 Yet praise Him for creation ! 
 Nor cease the happy song, 
 But this our Hallelujah 
 Through all our life prolong ; 
 *T will mingle with the chorus 
 Before the heavenly throne, 
 Where what it truly is TO BE 
 Shall first be fully known. 
 
 PART II. 
 
 “, , . preservation, and all the blessings of this life.” 
 Mendelssohn's ** Elijah.” 
 
 O Felix ! happy in thy varied store 
 Of harmonies undreamt before, 
 
 9 
 
140 THE MINISTRY OF SONG. 
 
 
 
 
 
 How different was the gift 
 Of praise ’twas thine to pour, 
 Whether in stately calm, or tempest strong and swift. 
 
 Mark the day, 
 
 In mourning robe of gray, 3 
 Of shrouded mountain and of storm-swept vale, 
 And purple pall spread o’er the distance pale, 
 
 While thunderous masses wildly drift 
 
 In lurid g’s0m and grandeur: then a swift 
 And dazzling ray bursts through a sudden rift ; 
 The dark waves glitter as the storms subside, 
 And all is light and glory at the eventide. 
 
 O sunlight of thanksgiving! Who that knows 
 Its bright forth-breaking after dreariest days 
 Would change the after-thought of woes 
 For memory’s loveliest light that glows ? 
 If so he must forego one note of that sweet praise. 
 For not the song 
 Which knows no minor cadence, sad and long ; 
 And not the tide 
 Whose emerald and silver pride 
 Was never dashed in wild and writhing fray, 
 Where grim and giant rocks hurl back the spray ; 
 And not the crystal atmosphere, 
 That carves each outline sharp and clear 
 Upon a sapphire sky : not these, not these, 
 Nor aught existing but to charm and please, 
 Without acknowledging life’s mystery, 
 
THREEFOLD PRAISE. 141 
 
 And all the mighty reign 
 
 Of yearning and of pain 
 That fills its half-read history, 
 
 Fit music can supply 
 
 To lift the wandering heart on high 
 
 To that Preserving Love, which rules all change, 
 And gives ‘‘all blessings of this life,” so dreamlike and 
 so strange. 
 
 And his was praise 
 Deeper and truer, such as those may raise 
 Who know both shade and sunlight, and whose life 
 Hath learnt victorious strife 
 Of courage and of trust and hope still dear, 
 With passion and with grief, with danger and with fear. 
 
 Upriseth now a cry, 
 Plaintive and piercing, to the brazen sky: 
 Help, Lord ! the harvest days are gone ; 
 Help, Lord! for other help is none ; 
 The infant children cry for bread, 
 And no man breaketh it. The suckling’s tongue for 
 thirst 
 Now cleaveth to hismouth. Our land is cursed ; 
 Our wasted Zion mourns, in vain her hands are spread. 
 
 A mother’s tale of grief, 
 Of sudden blight upon the chief, 
 
142 - THE MINISTRY OF SONG. 
 
 
 
 
 
 The only flower of love that cheered her widowed need : 
 O loneliest ! O desolate indeed ! 
 Were it not mockery to whisper here 
 A word of hope and cheer ? 
 
 A mountain brow, an awe-struck crowd, 
 The prayer-sent flame, the prayer-sent cloud, 
 
 A mighty faith, a more than kingly power, 
 Changed for depression’s darkest hour, 
 
 For one lone shadow in the desert sought, 
 
 A fainting frame, a spirit overwrought, 
 
 A sense of labor vain, and strength all spent for 
 naught. 
 
 Death hovering near, 
 With visible terror-spear 
 
 Of famine, or a murder-stainéd sword, 
 A stricken land forsaken of her Lord ; 
 
 While bowed with doubled fear, 
 
 The faithful few appear ; 
 O sorrows manifold outpoured ! 
 Is blessing built upon such dark foundation ? 
 And can a temple rising from such woe, — 
 Rising upon such mournful crypts below, 
 
 Be filled with light and joy and sounding adoration ? 
 
 O strange mosaic! wondrously inlaid 
 
 Are all its depths of shade, 
 With beauteous stones of promise, marbles fair 
 Of trust and calm, and flashing brightly, there 
 
 
 
THREEFOLD PRAISE. 1438 
 
 The precious gems of praise are set, and shine 
 Respiendent with alight that almost seems divine. 
 
 Thanks be to God ! 
 The thirsty land He laveth, 
 The perishing He saveth, 
 The floods lift up their voices, 
 ' The answering earth rejoices. 
 Thanks be to Him, and never-ending laud, 
 Tor this new token of His bounteous love, 
 Who reigns in might the waterfloods above : 
 The gathering waters rush along, 
 And leaps the exultant shout, one cataract of song, 
 Thanks be to God ! 
 
 Thus joyously we sing ; 
 Nor is this all the praise we bring. 
 We need not wait for earthquake, storm, and fire, 
 To lift our praises higher ; 
 Nor wait for heayen-dawn ere we join the hymn 
 Of throne-surrounding cherubim ; 
 For even on earth their anthem hath begun, 
 To Him, the Mighty and the Holy One. 
 We know the still small Voice in many a word 
 Of guidance, and command, and promise heard ; 
 And, knowing it, we bow before His feet, 
 With love and awe the seraph-strain repeat, 
 Holy, Holy, Holy! God the Lord! 
 His glory fills the earth, His name be all adored. 
 
 O Lord, our Lord ! how excellent Thy name 
 Throughout this universal frame ! 
 
144 THE MINISTRY OF SONG. 
 
 Therefore Thy children rest 
 Beneath the shadow of Thy wings, 
 A shelter safe and blest ; 
 And tune their often tremulous strings 
 Thy love to praise, Thy glory to proclaim, 
 The Merciful, the Gracious One, eternally The Same. 
 
 PART III. 
 
 *  .,. but above all, for Thine inestimable love in the redemption of the world 
 by our Lord Jesus Christ.” 
 
 Handel's ** Messiah.” 
 
 Hush ! for a master harp is tuned again, 
 In truest unison with choirs above, 
 For prelude to a loftier, sweeter strain, 
 Tne praise of God’s inestimable love ; 
 Who sent redemption to a world of woe, 
 That all a Father’s heart His banished ones might know. 
 
 Hush ! while on silvery wing of holiest song 
 Floats forth the old, dear story of our peace, 
 His coming, the Desire of Ages long, 
 To wear our chains, and win our glad release. 
 Our wondering joy, to hear such tidings blest, 
 Is crowned with ‘‘Come to Him, and He will give you 
 rest,” 
 
 Rest, by His sorrow! Bruiséd for our sin, 
 Behold the Lamb of God! His death our life. 
 Now lift your heads, ye gates! He entereth in, 
 Christ risen indeed, and Conqueror in the strife. 
 
 
 
THREEFOLD PRAISE. 145 
 
 — 
 
 Thanks, thanks to Him who won, and Him who gave 
 Such victory of love, such triumph o’er the grave. 
 
 Hark ! ‘ Hallelujah !” O sublimest strain ! 
 Is it prophetic echo of the day 
 When He, our Saviour and our King, shall reign, 
 And all the earth shall own His righteous sway ? 
 Lift heart and voice, and swell the mighty chords, 
 While hallelujahs peal, to Him, the Lord of lords ! 
 
 ‘© Worthy of all adoration 
 Is the Lamb that once was slain,” 
 Cry, in raptured exultation, 
 
 His redeemed from every nation ; 
 Angel myriads join the strain, 
 Sounding from their sinless strings 
 
 Glory to the King of kings : 
 Harping, with their harps of gold, 
 Praise which never can be told. 
 
 Hallelujahs full and swelling 
 Rise around His throne of might, 
 All our highest land excelling. 
 Holy and Immortal, dwelling 
 In the unapproachéd light, 
 He is worthy to receive 
 Ail that heaven and earth can give ; 
 Blessing, honor, glory, might, 
 All are His by glorious right. 
 
 As the sound of many waters 
 Let the full Amen arise ! 
 10 
 
146 THE MINISTRY OF SONG. 
 
 
 
 
 
 HALLELUJAH! Ceasing never, 
 
 Sounding through the great FOREVER, 
 Linking all its harmonies ; 
 
 Through eternities of bliss, 
 
 Lord, our rapture shall be this ; 
 
 And our endless life shall be 
 
 One AMEN of praise to Thee. 
 
 
 
 DISAPPOINTMENT. 
 
 UR yet unfinished story 
 Is tending all to this: 
 To God the greatest glory, 
 To us the greatest bliss. — 
 
 If all things work together 
 For ends so grand and blest, 
 
 What need to wonder whether 
 Each in itself is best ! 
 
 If some things were omitted: 
 - Or altered as we would, 
 The whole might be unfitted 
 To work for perfect good. 
 
 Our plans may be disjointed, 
 But we may calmly rest; 
 What God has once appointed 
 
 Is better than our best. 
 

 
 DISAPPOINTMENT. 
 
 - We cannot see before us; 
 But our all-seeing Friend 
 
 Is always watching o’er us, 
 And knows the very end. 
 
 What though we seem to stumble ? 
 He will not let us fall ; 
 
 And learning to be humble 
 Is not lost time at all. 
 
 What though we fondly reckoned 
 A smoother way to go 
 
 Than where His hand has beckoned ? 
 It will be better so. 
 
 What only seemed a barrier 
 A stepping-stone shall be 3 
 
 Our God is no long tarrier, 
 A present help is He. 
 
 And when amid our blindness 
 His disappointments fall, 
 
 We trust His loving-kindness 
 Whose wisdom sends them all. 
 
 They are the purple fringes 
 That hide His glorious feet ; 
 They are the fire-wrought hinges 
 Where truth and mercy meet ; 
 
 147° 
 

 
 148 THE MINISTRY OF SONG. 
 
 
 
 By them the golden portal 
 Of Providence shall ope, * 
 And lift to praise immortal 
 The songs of faith and hope. 
 
 From broken alabaster 
 Was deathless fragrance shed, 
 The spikenard flowed the faster 
 Upon the Saviour’s head. 
 
 No shattered box of ointment 
 We ever need regret, 
 
 For out of disappointment 
 Flow sweetest odors yet. 
 
 The discord that involveth 
 Some startling change of key, 
 The Master’s hand revolveth 
 In richest harmony. 
 
 We hush our children’s laughter, - 
 When sunset hues grow pale ; 
 Then, in the silence after, 
 They hear the nightingale. 
 
 We mourned the lamp declining, 
 That glimmered at our side ;— 
 
 The glorious starlight shining 
 Has proved a surer guide. 
 

 
 THE SONG CHALICE. 149 
 
 
 
 Then tremble not and shrink not 
 When Disappointment nears ; 
 
 Be trustful still, and think not 
 To realize all fears. 
 
 While we are meekly kneeling, 
 We shall behold her rise, 
 
 Our Father’s love revealing, 
 An angel in disguise. 
 
 
 
 THE SONG CHALICE. 
 
 s OU bear the chalice.” Is it so, my friend ? 
 Have I indeed a chalice of sweet song, 
 
 With underflow of harmony made strong, 
 
 New calm of strength through throbbing veins to 
 
 send ? 
 
 I did not form or fill,—I do but spend 
 That which the Master poured into my soul, 
 His dewdrops caught in a poor earthen bow], 
 
 That service so with praise might meekly blend. 
 
 May He who taught the morning stars to sing, 
 Aye keep my chalice cool, and pure, and sweet, 
 
 And grant me so with loving hand to bring 
 Refreshment to His weary ones,—to meet 
 
 Their thirst with water from God’s music-spring ; 
 And, bearing thus, to pour it at His feet. 
 
150 
 
 THE MINISTRY OF SONG. 
 
 NOD BVT. 
 JOHN xiii. 7. 
 
 “7 OT yet thou knowest what I do, 
 O feeble child of earth, 
 
 Whose life is but to angel view 
 The morning of thy birth! 
 
 The smallest leaf, the simplest flower, 
 The wild bee’s honey-cell, 
 
 Have lessons of My love and power 
 Too hard for thee to spell. 
 
 Thou knowest not how I uphold 
 The little thou dost scan ; 
 
 And how much less canst thou unfold 
 My universal plan, 
 
 Where all thy mind can grasp of space 
 Is but a grain of sand ;— 
 
 The time thy boldest thought can trace, 
 One ripple on the strand ! 
 
 Not yet thou knowest what I do 
 In this wild, warring world, 
 
 Whose prince doth still triumphant view 
 Confusion’s flag unfurled ; 
 
 Nor how each proud and daring thought 
 Ts subject to My will, 
 
 Each strong and secret purpose brought 
 My counsel to fuifill. 
 
 
 

 
 THANKSGIVING. 
 
 
 
 Not yet thou knowest how I bid 
 Each passing hour entwine 
 Its grief or joy, its hope or fear, 
 In one great love-design ; 
 Nor how I lead thee through the night, 
 By many a various way, 
 Still upward to unclouded light, 
 And onward to the day. 
 
 Not yet thou knowest what I do 
 
 _ Within thine own weak breast, 
 
 To mold thee to My image true, 
 And fit thee for My rest. ; 
 
 But yield thee to My leving skill ; 
 The veiled work of grace, 
 
 From. day to day progressing still, | 
 It is not thine to trace. 
 
 Yes, walk by faith and not by sight, 
 Fast clinging to My hand ; 
 
 Content to feel My love and might, 
 Not yet to understand. 
 
 A little while thy course pursue, 
 Till grace to glory grow ; 
 
 Then what I am, and what I do, 
 Hereafter thou shalt know. 
 
 9-8 
 
 THANKSGIVING. 
 
 HANKS be to God! to whom earth owes 
 Sunshine and breeze, 
 
 Lol 
 
152 
 
 THE MINISTRY OF SONG. 
 
 
 
 The heath-clad hill, the vale’s repose, 
 Streamlet and seas, 
 
 The snowdrop and the summer rose, 
 The many-voicéd trees. 
 
 Thanks for the darkness that reveals 
 Night’s starry dower ; 
 
 And for the sable cloud that heals — 
 Each fevered flower ; 
 
 And for the rushing storm that peals 
 Our weakness and Thy power, 
 
 Thanks for the sweetly-lingering might 
 In music’s tone ; 
 For paths of knowledge, whose calm light 
 Is all Thine own ; 
 For thoughts that at the Infinite 
 Fold their bright wings alone. 
 
 Yet thanks that silence oft may flow ~ 
 In dewlike store ; 
 
 Thanks for the mysteries that show 
 How small our lore ; 
 
 Thanks that we here so little know, 
 And trust Thee all the more ! 
 
 Thanks for the gladness that entwines 
 Our path below ; 
 
 Each sunrise that incarnadines 
 The cold, still snow ; 
 
 Thanks for the light of love which shines 
 With brightest earthly glow. 
 
 
 

 
 LIFE-CRYSTALS. ros 
 
 $e 
 
 Thanks for the sickness and the grief 
 Which none may flee; 
 
 For loved ones standing now around 
 The crystal sea ; 
 
 And for the weariness of heart 
 
 Which only rests in Thee. 
 
 Thanks for Thine own thrice-blesséd Word, 
 And Sabbath rest ; 
 
 Thanks for the hope of-glory stored 
 In mansions blest ; 
 
 Thanks for the Spirit’s comfort poured 
 Into the trembling breast. 
 
 Thanks, more than thanks, to Him ascend, 
 Who died to win 
 
 Our life, and every trophy rend 
 From Death and Sin ; 
 
 Till, when the thanks of Earth shall end, 
 The thanks of Heaven begin. 
 
 Notz.—It may be well to say, that these verses were in print before the 
 writer either saw or heard of the beautiful little poem by Adelaide Procter on the 
 same theme. 
 
 LIFE-CRYSTALS. 
 
 ‘ae world is full of crystals. Swift, or slow, 
 Or dark, or bright their varying formation ; 
 
 From pure calm heights of fair untrodden snow 
 To fire-wrought depths of earliest creation. 
 
154 THE MINISTRY OF SONG. 
 
 And life is full of crystals ; forming still 
 In myriad-shaped results from good and seeming ill. 
 
 Yes ! forming everywhere ; in busiest street, 
 In noisiest throng. Oh, how it would astound us, 
 The strange soul-chemistry of some we meet 
 In slight and passing talk! For all around us, 
 Deep inner silence broods o’er gems to be. 
 Now, in three visioned hearts trace out the work with me. 
 
 A heart that wonderingly received the flow 
 
 Of marvels and of mysteries of being, 
 Of sympathies and tensions, joy and woe; 
 
 Each earnestly from baser substance freeing : 
 A great life-mixture, full, and deep, and strong, 
 A sudden touch, and lo! it crystallized in song. 
 
 Then forth it flashed among the souls of men 
 
 Its own prismatic radiance, brightly sealing 
 A several rainbow for each several ken ; 
 
 The secrets of the distant stars revealing ; 
 Reflecting many a heart’s clear rays unknown, 
 And, freely shedding light, it analyzed their own. 
 
 A heart from which all joy had ebbed away, 
 And grief poured in a flood of burning anguish, 
 Then sealed the molten glow ; till, day by day, 
 The fires without, within, begin to languish : 
 Then ‘‘afterward” came coolness; all was well, 
 And from the broken crust a shining crystal fell. 
 
 
 

 
 REST. ta 
 
 
 
 A mourner found, and fastened on her breast 
 The soft-hued gem, the prized by mourners only ; 
 With sense of treasure gained she sought her rest, 
 No longer wandering in the twilight lonely ; 
 The sorrow-crystal glittering in the dark, 
 While faith and hope shone out to greet its starry spark. 
 
 A heart where emptiness seemed emptier made 
 By colorless remains of tasteless pleasure ; 
 ONE came, and pitying the hollow shade, 
 Poured in His own strong love in fullest measure ; 
 Then shadowed it with silent falling night, 
 And stilled it with the solemn Presence of His might. 
 
 A little while, then found the Master there 
 Love-crystals sparkling in the joyous morning ; 
 
 He stooped to gaze, and smiled to own them fair, 
 A treasure choice for His own rich adorning ; 
 
 Then set them in His diadem above, 
 
 To mingle evermore with His own light and love, 
 
 
 
 spe 
 
 Vig) heed 
 
 “Thou hast made us for Thyself, and the heart never restc th till it findeth rest 
 in Thee.”’—S?. Augustine. 
 
 1 ees for Thyself, O God! 
 Made for Thy love, Thy service, Thy 
 delight ; 
 Made to show forth Thy wisdom, grace, and might ; 
 Made for Thy praise, whom veiled archangels laud 5 
 
156 THE MINISTRY OF SONG. 
 
 Oh, strange and glorious thought, that we may be 
 A joy to Thee ! 
 
 
 
 Yet the heart turns away 
 From this grand destiny of bliss, and deems 
 Tl was made for its poor self, for passing dreams, 
 Chasing illusions melting day by day ; 
 Till for ourselves we read on this world’s best, 
 <<'This is not rest !” 
 
 Nor can the vain toil cease, 
 Till in the shadowy maze of life we meet 
 One who can guide our aching, wayward feet 
 T'o find Himself, our Way, our Life, our Peace; 
 In Him the long unrest is soothed and stilled 
 _ Our hearts are filled. . 
 
 O rest, so true, so sweet ! 
 (Would it were shared by all the weary world !) 
 ’Neath shadowing banner of His love unfurled, 
 We bend to kiss the Master’s piercéd feet ; 
 Then lean our love upon His loving breast, 
 And know God's rest. 
 
 
 
 LHE GREAT TEACH Ee 
 
 LOVE to feel that I am taught, 
 And, as a little child, 
 To note the lessons I have learnt 
 In passing through the wild. 
 

 
 THE GREAT TEACHER. 157 
 
 
 
 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 1 must learn, 
 And then, in weariness and doubt, 
 I pray the page may turn ; 
 But time goes on, and soon If 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 tear-drops wet, 
 Which I had learnt before, 
 
 He chides me not, but waits awhile, 
 Then wipes my heavy eyes: 
 
 Oh what a Teacher is our God, 
 So patient and so wise! 
 
 Dark silent hours of study fall, 
 And I can scarcely see ; 
 
 Then one beside me whispers low 
 What is so hard to me. 
 
 ’T is easier then ! I am so glad 
 I am not taught alone ; 
 
 It is such help to overhear 
 A lesson like my own. 
 
158 
 
 THE MINISTRY OF SONG. 
 
 
 
 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 may commission me 
 For Him to train or teach. 
 
 If others sadly bring to me 
 A lesson hard and 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 ; 
 
 There is a Presence with 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. 
 
 
 

 
 WOUNDED. 159 
 
 Oh ! may we learn to love Him more, 
 _ By every opening page, 
 By every lesson He shall mark 
 
 With daily ripening age. 
 
 And then, to ‘‘ know as we are known ” 
 Shall be our glorious prize, 
 To see the ‘leacher who hath been 
 So patient and so wise. 
 O joy untcld! Yet not alone 
 Shall ours the gladness be : 
 The travail of His soul in us 
 Our Saviour-God shall see. 
 
 
 
 ope 
 
 WOUNDED. 
 
 NLY a look and a motion that nobody saw or heard. 
 Past in a moment and over, with never the sound 
 of a word ; 
 Streams of converse around me smoothly and cheerily 
 flow, 
 But a terrible stab has been given, a silent and stagger- 
 ing blow. 
 
 Guesses the hand that gave it hardly a tithe of the smart, 
 
 Nothing at all of the anguish that fiercely leapt up in my 
 heart, 
 
 Scorching and scathing its peace, while a tremulous 
 nerve to the brain 
 
 Flashed up a telegram sudden, a message of quivering 
 pain. 
 

 
 160 THE MINISTRY OF SONG. 
 
 
 
 
 
 They must be merry without me, for how can I sing to- 
 night ? 
 
 They will only think I am tired, and thoughtfully shade 
 the light; 9, 
 
 Finger and voice would fail while the wound is open and 
 SOre 5 
 
 Bleeding ar the strength I had gathered for Sek be- 
 fore. 
 
 Only a look and a motion! Yes, but we little know 
 
 How from each dwarf-like “‘only” a giant of power may 
 oTOW } 
 
 The thundering avalanche crushes, loosened by only a 
 breath, 
 
 And only a colorless drop may be laden with sudden 
 death. | 
 
 Only a word of command, but it loses or wins the field ; 
 Only a stroke of the pen, but a heart is broken or healed ; 
 Only a step may sever, pole-wide, future and past ; 
 
 Only a touch may rivet links which for life shall last. 
 
 Only a look and a motion! Why was the wound so deep ? 
 
 Were it no echo of sorrow, hushed for a while to sleep, 
 
 Were it no shadow of fear, far o’er the future thrown, 
 
 Slight were the suffering now, if it bore on the present 
 alone. 
 
 Ah! I would smile it away, but ’tis all too fresh and too 
 keen ; 
 Perhaps I may some day recall it as if it had never been ; 
 

 
 PEACE. 161 
 
 
 
 Now I can only be still, and endure where I cannot cope, 
 Praying for meekness and patience, praying for faith and 
 hope. 
 
 Is it an answer already that words to my mind are 
 brought, 
 
 Floating like shining lilies on waters of gloomiest 
 thought ? 
 
 Simple and short is the sentence, but oh! what it com- 
 prehends ! 
 
 “Those with which I was wounded, in the house of My - 
 Sriends.” 
 
 Floating still on my heart, while I listen again and again, 
 
 Stilling the anxious throbbing, soothing the icy pain, 
 
 Proving its sacred mission healing and balm to bring. 
 
 ““Coming ?” Yes, if you want me! Yes, I am ready 
 to sing. 
 
 
 
 PACE. 
 
 S this the Peace of God, this strange, sweet calm ? 
 The weary day is at its zenith still, 
 Yet ’tis as if beside some cool, clear rill, 
 Through shadowy stillness rose an evening psalm, 
 And all the noise of life were hushed away, 
 And tranquil gladness reigned with gently soothing sway. 
 
 It was not so just now. I turned aside 
 With aching head, and heart most sorely bowed ; 
 Around me cares and griefs in crushing crowd, 
 While inly rose the sense, in swelling tide, 
 1 
 
162 - THE MINISTRY OF SONG. 
 
 
 
 Of weakness, insufficiency, and sin, 
 And fear, and gloom, and doubt, in mighty flood rolled in. 
 
 That rushing flood I had no strength to meet, 
 Nor power to flee: my present, future, past, 
 My self, my sorrow, and my sin I cast 
 In utter helplessness at Jesu’s feet ; 
 Then bent me to the storm, if such His will. 
 He saw the winds and waves, and whispered, ‘‘ Peace, be 
 still!” 
 
 And there was calm! O Saviour, I have proved 
 That Thou to help and save art really near ; 
 How else this quiet rest from grief, and fear, 
 And all distress? The cross is not removed; 
 I must go forth to bear it as before, 
 But, leaning on Thine arm, I dread its weight no more. 
 
 Is it indeed Thy Peace ? I have not tried 
 T'o analyze my faith, dissect my trust, 
 Or measure if belief be full and just, 
 And therefore claim Thy Peace. But Thou hast died: 
 I know that this is true, and true for me, 
 And, knowing it, I come, and cast my all on Thee. 
 
 It is not that I feel less weak, but Thou 
 Wilt be my strength ; it is not that I see 
 Less sin, but more of pardoning love with Thee, 
 
 And all-sufficient grace. Enough! And now 
 
 All fluttering thought is stilled; I only rest, 
 
 And feel that Thou art near, and know that I am blest. 
 
 
 

 
 NOT YOUR OWN. 163 
 
 
 
 NOT YOUR OWN. 
 
 iy OT your own !” but His ye are, 
 Who hath paid a price untold 
 For your life, exceeding far 
 All earth’s store of gems and gold. 
 
 With the precious blood of Christ, 
 Ransom treasure all unpriced, 
 Full redemption is procured, 
 Full salvation is assured. 
 
 <‘Not your own!” but His by right, 
 
 His peculiar treasure now, 
 
 Fair and precious in His sight, 
 Purchased jewels for His brow. 
 
 He will keep what thus He sought, 
 
 Safely guard the dearly bought, 
 
 Cherish that which He did choose, 
 
 Always love and never lose. 
 
 <‘Not your own!” but His, the King, 
 
 His, the Lord of earth and sky, 
 
 His, to whom archangels bring 
 Homage deep and praises high. 
 
 What can royal birth bestow ? 
 
 Or the proudest titles show ? 
 
 Can such dignity be known 
 
 As the glorious name ‘‘Hisown”? * 
 
 <¢ Not your own!” to Him ye owe 
 All your life and all your love ; 
 
164 
 
 THE MINISTRY OF SONG. 
 
 
 
 Live, that ye His praise may show, 
 Who is yet all praise above. 
 
 Every day and every hour, 
 
 Every gift and every power, 
 
 Consecrate to Him alone, 
 
 Who hath claimed you for His own. 
 
 Teach us, Master, how to give 
 All we have and are to Thee; 
 Grant us, Saviour, while we live, 
 Wholly, only, Thine to be. © 
 Henceforth be our calling high 
 
 Thee to serve and glorify ; 
 Ours no longer, but Thine own, 
 Thine forever, Thine alone ! 
 
 “A GREAT MYSTERY.” 
 
 HERE is a hush in earth and sky, 
 The ear is free to list aright 
 In darkness, veiling from the eye 
 The many-colored spells of light. 
 
 Not heralded by fire and storm, 
 In shadowy outline dimly seen, 
 
 Comes through the gloom a glorious Form, 
 The once despiséd Nazarene. 
 
 
 

 
 <*A GREAT MYSTERY.” 165 
 
 Through waiting silence, voiceless shade, 
 A still, small Voice so clearly floats, 
 A listening lifetime were o’erpaid 
 By one sweet echo of such notes. 
 
 ‘‘Fear not, beloved ! thou art Mine, 
 
 For I have given My life for thee ; 
 _ By name I call thee, rise and shine ; 
 Be praise and glory unto Me. 
 
 “‘In Me all spotless and complete, 
 And in Mycomeliness most fair, 
 Art thou ; to Me thy voice is sweet, 
 
 Prevailing in thy feeblest prayer. 
 
 «‘Thy life is hid in God with Me, 
 
 I stoop to dwell within thy breast ; 
 My joy forever thou shalt be, 
 
 And in My love for thee I rest. 
 
 **O Prince’s daughter, whom I see 
 
 In bridal garments, pure as light, 
 Betrothed forever unto Me, 
 
 On thee My own new name I write.” 
 
 Lo ! neath the stars’ uncertain ray, 
 
 In flowing mantle glistening fair, 
 One, lowly bending, turns away 
 
 From that sweet voice in cold despair. 
 
 Is it Humility, who sees 
 Herself unworthy of such grace, 
 Who dares not hope her Lord to please, 
 Who dares not look upon His face ? 
 
166 THE MINISTRY OF SONG. 
 
 
 
 
 
 Nay, where that mantle fleeting gleams, 
 
 °Tis Unbelief who turns aside ; : 
 Who rather rests in self-spun dreams, 
 
 Than trust the love of Him who died. 
 
 Faith casts away the fair disguise, 
 She will not doubt her Master’s voice, 
 And droop when He hath bid her rise, 
 Or mourn when He hath said, <‘ Rejoice !” 
 
 Her stained and soiled robes she leaves, 
 And Christ’s own shining raiment takes ; 
 
 What His love gives, her love receives, 
 And meek and trustful answer makes : 
 
 ‘‘Behold the handmaid of the Lord ! 
 Thou callest, and I come to Thee: 
 According to Thy faithful word, 
 O Master, be it unto me! 
 
 ‘Thy love I cannot comprehend, 
 I only know Thy word is true, 
 And that Thou lovest to the end 
 Each whom to Thee the Father drew. 
 
 ‘Oh ! take the heart I could not give 
 Without Thy strength-bestowing call; . 
 In Thee, and for Thee, let me live, 
 For I am nothing, Thou art all,” 
 

 
 CONTENT. 16% 
 
 COMPELN L. 
 
 oe HAT wouldst thou be ?? 
 A wavelet just rising from life’s 
 wide sea. 
 I would I were once again a child, 
 Like a laughing floweret on mountains wild ; 
 In the fairy realms of fancy dwelling, 
 The golden moments for sunbéams selling ; 
 Ever counting on bright to-morrows, 
 And knowing nought of unspoken sorrows : 
 Such would I be, 
 A sparkling cascade of untiring glee.” 
 1860. 
 * *k % x XK x 
 Not so, not so! 
 For longings change as the full years flow. 
 When I had but taken a step or two 
 From the fairy regions still in view ; 
 While their playful breezes fanned me still 
 At every pause on the steeper hill, 
 And the blossoms showered from every shoot, 
 Showered and fell, and yet no fruit, 
 It was grief and pain 
 That I never could be a child again. 
 
 Not so, not so! 
 Back to my life-dawn I would not go. 
 A little is lost, but more is won, 
 As the sterner work of the day is done. 
 We forget that the troubles of childish days 
 Were once gigantic in morning haze. 
 
168 
 
 THE MINISTRY OF SONG. 
 
 There is less of fancy, but more of truth, 
 
 For we lose the mists with the dew of youth ; 
 And a rose is born 
 
 On many a spray which seemed only thorn. 
 
 Not so, not so! 
 While the years of childhood glided slow, 
 There was all to receive and nothing to give: 
 Is it not better for others to live ? 
 And happier far than merriest games 
 Is the joy of our new and nobler aims: 
 Then fair fresh flowers, now lasting gems ; 
 Then wreaths for a day, but now diadems, 
 Forever to shine, 
 Bright in the radiance of Love Divine. 
 
 Not so, not so! — 
 I would not again be a child, I know! 
 But were it not pleasant again to stand 
 On the border-line of that fairy land,— 
 Feeling so buoyant and blithe and strong, 
 Fearing no slip as we bound along, 
 Halting at will in the sunshine to bask, 
 Deeming the journey an easy task, 
 
 While Courage and Hope 
 Smooth with ‘‘ Come, see, and conquer ” each emerald 
 
 slope ? 
 
 Not so, not so! 
 Less leaping flame, but a deeper glow ! 
 
 
 

 
 CONTENT. 169 
 
 There is more of sorrow, but more of joy, 
 Less glittering ore, but less alloy ; 
 There is more of pain, but more of balm, 
 And less of pleasure, but more of calm ; 
 Many a hope all spent and dead, 
 But higher and brighter hopes instead ; 
 Less risked, more won ; 
 Less planned and dreamed, but perhaps more done. 
 
 Not so, not so! 
 Not in stature and learning alone we grow. 
 Though we no more look from year to year 
 For power of mind more strong and clear, 
 Though the table-land of life we tread, 
 No widening views before us spread, 
 No sunlit summits to Inre ambition, 
 But only the path of a daily mission. 
 
 We would not turn 
 Where the will-o’-the-wisps of our young dreams 
 
 burn. 
 
 Then be it so! 
 For in better things we yet may grow. 
 Onward and upward still our way, 
 With the joy of progress from diy to day ; 
 Nearer and nearer every year 
 To the visions and hopes most true and dear ; 
 Children still of a Father’s love, 
 Children still of a home above ! 
 
 Thus we look back, 
 Without a sigh, o’er the lengthening track. 
 
 1867. 
 
170 
 
 THE MINISTRY OF SONG. 
 
 MISUNDERSTOOD. 
 
 a EOPLE do not understand me, 
 Their ideas are not like mine; 
 
 All advances seem to land me 
 Still outside their guarded shrine.” 
 
 So you turn from simple joyance, 
 Losing many a mutual good, 
 Weary with the chill annoyance 
 
 So to be misunderstood. 
 
 Let me try to lift the curtain 
 Hiding other hearts from view ; 
 
 You complain, but are you certain 
 That the fault is not with you ; 
 
 In the sunny summer hours, 
 Sitting in your quiet room, 
 
 Can you wonder if the flowers 
 Breathe for you no sweet perfume ? 
 
 True, you see them bright and pearly 
 With the jewelry of morn ; 
 
 But their fragrance, fresh and early, 
 Is not through your window borne. 
 
 You must go to them, and stooping, 
 Cull the blossoms where they live ; 
 On your bosom gently drooping, 
 All their treasure they will give. 
 
 
 

 
 MISUNDERSTOOD. Vit 
 
 Who would guess what fragrance lingers 
 In verbena’s pale green show ! 
 
 Press the leaflet in your fingers, 
 All its sweetness you will know. 
 
 Few the harps AXolian sending 
 Unsought music on the wind : 
 Else must love and skill be blending 
 
 Musie’s full response to find. 
 
 «‘ But my key-note,” are you thinking, 
 “‘ Will not modulate to theirs” ? 
 
 Seek ! and subtle chords enlinking, 
 Soon shall blend the differing airs. 
 
 Fairly sought, some point of contact 
 There must be with every mind ; 
 And, perchance, the closest compact | 
 
 Where we least expect, we find. 
 
 Perhaps the heart you meet so coldly 
 Burns with deepest lava-glow ; 
 
 Wisely pierce the crust, and boldly, 
 And a fervid stream shall flow. 
 
 Dialects of love are many, 
 
 Though the language be but one ; 
 Study all you can, or any, 
 
 While life’s precious school-hours run, 
 
 Closed the heart-door of thy brother, 
 All its treasure long concealed ? 
 One key fails, then try another, 
 Soon the rusty lock shall yield. 
 ? 
 
122 
 
 THE MINISTRY OF SONG. 
 
 
 
 Few have not some hidden trial, 
 And could sympathize with thine ; 
 Do not take it as denial 
 That you see no outward sign. 
 
 Silence is no certain token 
 That no secret grief is there ; 
 
 Sorrow which is never spoken 
 Is the heaviest load to bear. 
 
 Seldom can the heart be lonely, 
 If it seek a lonelier still, 
 
 Self-forgetting, seeking only 
 Emptier cups of love to fill. 
 
 *T will not be a fruitless labor, 
 Overcome this ill with good ; 
 Try to understand your neighbor, 
 
 And you will be understood. 
 
 
 
 THE STAR SHOWER. 
 NOVEMBER 14, 1866. 
 
 H! to raise a mighty shout, 
 And bid the sleepers all come out ! 
 No dreamer’s fancy fair and high, 
 Could image forth a grander sky. 
 And oh, for eyes of swifter power 
 To follow fast the starry shower ! 
 
 
 

 
 - THE STAR SHOWER. © . 173 
 
 Oh, for a sweep of vision clear 
 To grasp at once a hemisphere ! 
 
 The solemn old chorale of Night, 
 
 With fullest chords of awful might, 
 Re-echoes still in stately march 
 Throughout the glowing heavenly arch ; 
 But harmonies all new and rare 
 
 Are intermingling everywhere, 
 Fantastic, fitful, fresh, and free ; 
 
 A sparkling wealth of melody, 
 
 A carol of sublimest glee, 
 
 Is bursting from the starry chorus, 
 
 In dazzling exultation o’er us. 
 
 O wondrous sight! so swift, so bright, 
 Like sudden thrills of strange delight ; 
 As if the stars were all at play, 
 
 And kept ecstatic holiday ; 
 
 As if it were a jubilee 
 
 Of glad millenniums fully told, 
 
 ~ 
 
 Or universal sympathy 
 
 With some new dawning age of gold. 
 
 Flashing from the lordly lion, 
 Flaming under bright Procyon, 
 From the farthest east up-ranging, 
 Past the blessed orb* unchanging ; 
 
 
 
 * “That admirable Polar Star, which is a blessing to astronomers.’’—Professo? 
 Airy’s Popular Lectures on Astronomy. 
 
 a a 
 
1%4 THE MINISTRY OF SONG. 
 
 Ursa’s brilliance far out-gleaming, 
 From the very zenith streaming ; 
 Rushing, as in joy delirious, 
 
 To the pure white ray of Sirius ; 
 Past Orion’s belted splendor, 
 
 Past Capella, clear and tender ; 
 Lightening dusky Polar regions, 
 Brightening pale encircling legions ; 
 Lines of fiery glitter tracing, 
 Parting, meeting, interlacing ; 
 Paiing every constellation 
 
 With their radiant revelation ! 
 
 All we heard of meteor glory 
 
 Ts a true and sober story ; 
 
 Who will not for life remember 
 This night grandeur of November ? 
 
 ———__—— 
 
 "Tis over now, the once-seen, dream-like sight ! 
 With gradual hand the clear and breezy dawn 
 Hath o’er the marvels of the meteor night 
 A veil of light impenetrable drawn. 
 And earth is sweeping on through starless space, 
 Nor may we once look back, the shining field to trace. 
 
 Ere next the glittering stranger-throng we meet, 
 How many a star of life will seek the west ! 
 Our century’s dying pulse will faintly beat ; 
 The toilers of to-day will be at rest ; 
 And little ones, who now but laugh and play, 
 Will weary in the heat and burden of the day. 
 
 
 

 
 TREASURE TROVE. 175 
 
 Oh, is there nothing beautiful and glad ° 
 But bears a message of decay and change ? 
 So be it! Though we call it stern and sad, 
 Viewed by the torch of Love, it is not strange. 
 *T is mercy that in Nature’s every strain 
 Deep warning tones peal out, in solemn sweet refrain. 
 And have not all created things a voice 
 For those who listen farther, —whispers low 
 To bid the children of the light rejoice 
 In burning hopes they yet but dimly know ? 
 What will it be, all earthly darkness o’er, 
 To shine as stars of God forever—evermore ! 
 
 
 
 TREASURE TROVE. 
 
 PLAYED with the whispering rushes, 
 By a river of reverie, 
 Flowing so quietly onward 
 Into an unknown sea. 
 
 And I watched the dreamy current, 
 Till to my feet it brought, 
 Glistening among the pebbles, 
 The pearl of a fair new thought. 
 
 New! yet many another, 
 Leaning over the stream, 
 
 May have welcomed its sudden shining, 
 And gazed on its gentle gleam. 
 

 
 176 THE MINISTRY OF SONG. a 
 
 Long it must have been lying, 
 Yet it is new to me. 
 
 Oh, the treasures around us, 
 If we could only see ! 
 
 I have broken the smooth dark water 
 Into ripples and circles bright, 
 
 Lifting my pearl from the pebbles, 
 Bearing away its light. 
 
 I am so glad to have found it! 
 I shall treasure it safely awhile, 
 
 It will brighten the niche that is darkest 
 In my spirit’s loneliest aisle. 
 
 And then, it may be, a dear one 
 Will wear it, a long, long time, 
 Fastened firm on her bosom, 
 In a setting of silver rhyme. 
 
 
 
 COMING SUMMER. 
 
 HAT will the summer bring ? 
 Sunshine and flowers, 
 
 Brightness and melody, 
 
 Golden-voiced hours ; 
 Rose-gleaming mornings 
 
 Vocal with praise; — 
 Crimson-flushed evenings, 
 
 Nightingale lays. 
 

 
 COMING SUMMER, | 177 
 
 What may the summer bring ? 
 Gladness and mirth, 
 Laughter and song, 
 For the children of earth ; 
 Smiles for the old man, 
 Joy for the strong, 
 Glee for the little ones 
 All the day long. 
 
 What will the summer bring ? 
 Coolness and shade, 
 Eloquent stillness 
 In thicket and glade ; 
 Whispering breezes, 
 _ Fragrance oppressed ; 
 Lingering twilight 
 Soothing to rest. 
 
 What may the summer bring ? 
 Freshness and calm 
 
 To the care-worn and troubled, 
 Beauty and balm. 
 
 O toil-weary spirit, 
 Rest thee anew, 
 
 For the heat of the world-race 
 Summer hath dew ! 
 
 What will the summer bring ? 
 Sultry noon hours, 
 Lurid horizons, 
 Frowning cloud-towers ! 
 12 
 
178 
 
 THE MINISTRY OF SONG. 
 
 
 
 
 
 Loud-crashing thunders, 
 Tempest and hail, 
 
 Death-bearing lightnings, 
 It brings without fail. 
 
 What may the summer bring ? 
 Dimness and woe, . 
 Blackness of sorrow 
 Its bright days may know $ 
 Flowers may be wormwood, 
 Verdure a pall, 
 The shadow of death 
 On the fairest may fall. 
 
 Is it not ever so? 
 Where shall we find 
 Light that may cast 
 No shadow behind ? 
 Calm that no tempest 
 May darkly await ? 
 Joy that no sorrow 
 May swiftly abate ? 
 
 Will the story of summer 
 Be written in light, 
 
 Or traced in the darkness 
 Of storm-cloud and night ? 
 
 We know not—we would not know 3 
 Why should we quail ? 
 
 Summer, we welcome thee ! 
 Summer, all hail ! 
 

 
 SEPTEMBER, 1868. ie 
 
 SEPTEMBER, 1868. 
 
 A N April burst of beauty, 
 And a May like the Mays of old, 
 
 And a glow of summer gladness 
 While June her long days told ; 
 And a hush of golden silence 
 All through the bright July, 
 Without one peal of thunder, 
 Or a storm-wreath in the sky ; 
 And a fiery reign of August, 
 Till the moon was on the wane ; 
 And then short clouded evenings, - 
 And a long and chilling rain. 
 I thought the summer was over, 
 And the whole year’s glory spent, 
 And that nothing but fog and drizzle 
 Could be for Autumn meant ;— 
 Nothing but dead leaves, falling 
 Wet on the dark, damp mold, 
 Less and less of the sunshine, 
 More and more of the cold. 
 
 But oh ! the golden day-time ; 
 And oh! the silver nights : 
 And the scarlet touch on the fir trunks 
 Of the calm, grand sunset lights ; 
 And the morning’s bright revealings, 
 Lifting the pearly mist, 
 Like a bridal veil, from the valley 
 That the sun hath claimed and kissed ; 
 

 
 180 THE MINISTRY OF SONG. ae 
 
 And oh! the noontide shadows 
 Longer and longer now, 
 On the river margin resting, 
 Like the tress on a thoughtful brow. 
 Rich fruitage bends the branches 
 With amber, and rose, and gold, 
 O’er the purple and crimson asters, 
 And geraniums gay and bold. 
 The day is warm and glowing, 
 But the night is cool and sweet, 
 And we fear no smiting arrows 
 Of fierce and fatal heat. 
 The leaves are only dropping, 
 Like flakes of a sunset cloud, 
 And the robin’s song is clearer 
 Than spring’s own minstrel-crowd. 
 A soft new robe of greenness 
 Decks every sunny mead, 
 And we own that bright September 
 Is beautiful indeed. 
 
 Is thy life-summer passing ? 
 Think not thy joys are o’er ! 
 
 Thou hast not seen what Autumn 
 For thee may have in store. | 
 
 Calmer than breezy April, 
 Cooler than August blaze, 
 
 The fairest time of all may be 
 September’s golden days. 
 
 Press on, though Summer waneth, 
 And falter not, nor fear, 
 
 
 

 
 EARLY FAITH. 181 
 
 For God can make the Autumn 
 The glory of the year. 
 
 
 
 EARLY FAITH. 
 HOM hear we tell of all the joy which loving Faith 
 
 can bring, 
 The ever-widening glories reached on her strong seraph 
 wing ? 
 Is it not oftenest they who long have wrestled with temp- 
 tation, 
 Or passed through fiery baptisms of mighty tribulation ? 
 
 Perhaps, in life’s great tapestry, the darkest scenes are 
 where 
 
 The golden threads of Faith glance forth most radiant 
 and fair ; 
 
 And gazing on the coming years, which unknown griefs 
 may bring, 
 
 We hail the lamp which o’er them all shall heavenly lus- 
 ter fling. 
 
 Thank God! there is at eventide a gleam of ruby light, 
 
 A star of love amid the gloom of sorrow’s lingering night, 
 
 An ivy-wreath upon the tomb, a haven in the blast, 
 
 A staff for weary, trembling ones, when youth and health 
 are past. 
 

 
 182 THE MINISTRY OF SONG. 
 
 
 
 But shall we seek the diamonds in the lone and dusky 
 mine, : 
 
 When ’mid the sunny sands of youth they wait to flash 
 and shine ? 
 
 Neglect the fountains of Christ’s joy till woe-streams 
 darkly flow, 
 
 Nor seek a Father’s smile until the world’s cold frown we 
 know ? | 
 
 Nay ! be our faith the rosy crown on morn’s unwrinkled 
 
 brow, 
 The sparkling dewdrop on the grass, the blossoms on the 
 bough ; | 
 The gleam of pearly light within the snowy-bosomed 
 shell ; 
 
 An added power of loveliness in beauty’s every spell. 
 
 Oh, let it be the sunlight of the pleasant summer hours, 
 
 That calls to pureand radiant birth vnnumbered fragrant 
 flowers; 4+ 
 
 That bathes in golden joyance every anthem-murmuring 
 tree, 
 
 And spreads a robe of glory o’er the silver-crested sea. 
 
 Oh, let it be the key-note of the symphony of gladness, 
 
 Which wots not of the broken lyre, the requiem of sad- 
 ness : 
 
 For they who melodies of heaven in hours of brightness 
 know, 3 
 
 Will modulate sweet harmony from earth’s discordant 
 woe. 
 

 
 OUR FATHER. 183 
 
 OUR FATHER. 
 
 H, that I loved the Father 
 With depth of conscious love, 
 As steadfast, bright, and burning 
 As seraphim above! 
 
 - But how can I be deeming 
 
 Myself a loving child, 
 When here, and there, and everywhere, 
 My thoughts are wandering wild ? 
 
 & 
 «It is my chief desire 
 To know Him more and more, 
 To follow Him more fully 
 Than I have done before ; 
 My eyes are dim with longing 
 To see the Lord above ; 
 But oh ! I fear from year to year, 
 I do not truly love. 
 
 ‘‘ For when I try to follow 
 The mazes of my soul, 
 I find no settled fire of love 
 Illumining the whole: 
 *Tis all uncertain twilight, 
 No clear and vivid glow : 
 Would I could bring to God my King 
 The perfect love I owe!” 
 The gift is great and holy, 
 ’T will not be sought in vain ; 
 
i84 
 
 
 
 THE MINISTRY OF SONG. 
 
 
 
 
 
 But look up for a moment - 
 From present doubt and pain, 
 
 And calmly tell me how you love 
 The dearest ones below ? 
 
 ‘This love,” say you, ‘‘is deep and true !” 
 But tell me how you know ? 
 
 How do you love your father ? 
 ‘Oh, in a thousand ways ! 
 
 J think there’s no one like him, 
 So worthy of my praise. 
 
 I tell him all my troubles, 
 And ask him what to do; 
 
 I know that he will give to me 
 His counsel kind and true. 
 
 «‘Then every little service 
 Of hand, or pen; or voice 
 Becomes, if he has asked it, 
 The service of my choice; 
 And from my own desires 
 *Tis not so hard to part, 
 If once I know I follow so 
 His wiser will and heart. 
 
 ‘I know the flush of pleasure 
 That o’er my spirit came, 
 
 When far from home with strangers, 
 They caught my father’s name ; 
 
 
 

 
 OUR FATHER. e185 
 
 
 
 And for his sake the greeting 
 Was mutual and sweet, 
 
 For if they knew my father too, 
 How glad we were to meet ! 
 
 *¢ And when I heard them praising 
 His music and his skill, 
 
 His words of holy teaching, 
 Life-preaching, holier still, 
 
 How eagerly I listened 
 To every word that fell ! 
 
 "Twas joy to hear that name so dear 
 Both known and loved so well. 
 
 “Once I was ill and suffering 
 Upon a ‘foreign shore, 
 
 And longed to see my father, 
 As I never longed before. 
 
 He came: his arm around me ; 
 I leant upon his breast ; 
 
 I did not long to feel more strong, 
 So sweet that childlike rest. 
 
 «The thought of home is pleasant, 
 
 Yet I should hardly care 
 
 To leave my present fair abode, 
 Unless I knew him there. 
 
 All other love and pleasure 
 Can never crown the place, 
 
 A home to me it cannot be 
 Without my father’s face.” 
 
186 
 
 THE MINISTRY OF SONG. 
 
 This is no fancy drawing, 
 But every line is true, 
 And you have traced as strong a love, 
 As ever daughter knew. 
 But though its fond expression 
 Is rather lived than told, 
 You do not say from day to day, 
 ‘<I fear my love is cold!” 
 
 You do not think about it ; 
 
 "Tis never in your thought— 
 ““T wonder if I love him 
 
 As deeply as I ought? 
 
 I know his approbation 
 Outweighs all other need, 
 
 That his employ is always joy, 
 But do I love indeed ?” 
 
 Now let your own words teach you 
 The higher, holier claim 
 
 Of Him, who condescends to bear 
 A Father’s gracious name. 
 
 No mystic inspiration, 
 No throbbings forced and wild 
 
 He asks, but just the loving trust 
 Of a glad and grateful child. 
 
 The rare and precious moments 
 Of realizing thrill 
 
 Are but love’s blissful blossom, 
 To brighten, not to fill 
 
 
 

 
 OUR FATHER 187 
 
 
 
 The storehouse and the garner 
 With ripe and pleasant fruit ; 
 
 And not alone by these is shown 
 The true and holy root. 
 
 What if your own dear father 
 _ Were summoned to his rest ! 
 One lives, by whom that bitterest grief 
 Could well be soothed and blessed. 
 Like balm upon your sharpest woe 
 His still, small voice would fall ; 
 His touch would heal, you could not feel 
 That you had lost your all. 
 
 But what if He, the Lord of life, 
 Could ever pass away ! 
 
 What if His name were blotted out, 
 And you could know to-day 
 
 There was no heavenly Father, 
 No Saviour dear and true, 
 
 No throne of grace, no resting-place, 
 No living God for you ! 
 
 We need not dwell in horror 
 On what can never be, 
 Such endless desolation, 
 Such undreamt misery. 
 Our reason could not bear it, 
 And all] the love of earth, 
 In fullest bliss, compared with this, 
 Were nothing, nothing worth. 
 
188 THE MINISTRY OF SONG. 
 
 
 
 Then bring your poor affection, 
 And try it by this test ; 
 
 The hidden depth is fathomed, 
 You see you love Him Jest / 
 
 "Tis but a feedle echo 
 Of His great love to you, 
 
 Yet in His ear each note is dear, 
 Its harmony is true. 
 
 It is an uncut jewel, 
 
 All earth-incrusted now, 
 But He will make it glorious, 
 And set it on His brow: 
 
 Tis but a tiny glimmer, 
 Lit from the light above, 
 But it shall blaze through endless days, 
 A star of perfect love. 
 
 
 
 
 
 { 
 
 x “1 DID THIS FOR THEE! WHA i= 
 . THOU DONE FOR ME?” 
 
 (Motto placed under a Picture of our Saviour.) 
 
 iT GAVE My life for thee, 
 My precious blood I shed, 
 That thou might’st ransomed be, 
 And quickened from the dead. 
 I gave my life for thee ; 
 What hast thou given for Me? 
 

 
 -*I DID THIS FOR THEE!” 
 
 I spent long years for thee 
 
 In weariness and woe, 
 That an eternity 
 
 Of joy thou mightest know. 
 I spent long years for thee ; 
 Hast thou spent one for Me ? 
 
 My Father’s home of light, 
 My rainbow-circled throne, 
 I left, for earthly night, 
 For wanderings sad and lone. 
 I left it all for thee ; 
 Hast thou left aught for Me? 
 
 I suffered much for thee, 
 More than thy tongue may tell, 
 Of bitterest agony, 
 To rescue thee from hell. 
 I suffered much for thee ; 
 What canst thou bear for Me? 
 
 And I have brought to thee, 
 Down from My home above, 
 Salvation full and free, 
 My pardon and My love. 
 Great gifts I brought to thee ; 
 What hast thou brought to Me? 
 
 Oh, let thy life be given, 
 Thy: years for Me be spent, 
 
 189 
 
190 THE MINISTRY OF SONG. 
 
 World-fetters all be riven, 
 
 And joy with suffering blent ; 
 I gave Myself for thee ; 
 Give thou thyself to Me! 
 
 
 
 ISAIAH XXXIITI. 17. 
 
 ([HINE eyes shall see! Yes, thine, who, blind ere- 
 while, 
 Now trembling toward the new-found light dost flee ; 
 Leave doubting, and look up with trustful smile— 
 Thine eyes shall see ! 
 
 Thine eyes shall see! Not in some dream Elysian, 
 Not in thy fancy, glowing though it be, 
 Not even in faith, but in unveiléd vision, 
 Thine eyes shall see ! 
 
 Thine eyes shall see! Not on thyself depend 
 God’s promises, the faithful, firm, and free; 
 Ere-they shall fail, earth, heaven itself, must end : 
 Thine eyes shall see ! 
 
 Thine eyes shall see! Not in a swift glance cast, 
 Gleaning one ray to brighten memory, 
 But, while a glad eternity shall last, 
 Thine eyes shall see / 
 
 
 
 
 
 Se pe ee ae ee eae 
 
SILENT IN LOVE. 191 
 
 Thine eyes shall see the King! The very same 
 Whose love shone forth upon the curseful tree, 
 Who bore thy guilt, who calleth thee by name ; 
 Thine eyes shall see! 
 
 Thine eyes shall see the King! the mighty One, 
 The many-crowned, the Light-enrobed ; and He - 
 
 Shall bid thee share the kingdom He hath won ; 
 ‘Thine eyes shall see ! 
 
 And in His beauty! Stay thee, mortal song, 
 The ‘‘ altogether lovely ” One must be 
 Unspeakable in glory,—yet ere long 
 Thine eyes shall see ! 
 
 Yes ! though the land be ‘‘very far” away, 
 A step, a moment, ends the toil for thee ; 
 Then changing grief for gladness, night for day, 
 ‘Thine eyes shall see ! 
 
 ie fey Pe LOVE. 
 ‘SHE WILL REST* IN HIS LOVE.” 
 
 OVE culminates in bliss when it doth reach 
 A white, unflickering, fear-consuming glow ; 
 And, knowing it is known as it doth know, 
 Needs no assuring word or soothing speech. 
 
 
 
 * Marginal reading—‘* be silent.” 
 
192 THE MINISTRY OF SONG. 
 
 
 
 
 
 It craves but'silent nearness, so to rest, 
 No sound, no movement, love not heard but felt, 
 | Longer and longer still, till time should melt, 
 at A snow-flake on the eternal ocean's breast. 
 Have moments of this silence starred thy past, 
 Made memory a glory-haunted place, 
 Taught all the joy that mortal ken can trace ? 
 By greater light ’tis but a shadow cast ;— | 
 So shall the Lord thy God rejoice o’er thee, 
 And in His love will rest, and silent be. 
 
 LIGHT AND SHADE. 
 
 ili IGHT ! emblem of all good and joy! 
 
 4 Shade! emblem of all ill! 
 
 And yet in this strange mingled life, 
 
 We need the shadow still. 
 
 A lamp with softly shaded light, 
 
 To soothe and spare the tender sight, 
 Will only throw 
 A brighter glow 
 
 Upon our books and work below. 
 
 We could not bear unchanging day, 
 However fair its light ; 
 Ere long the wearied eye would hail 
 As boon untold the evening pale, 
 ‘The solace of the night. 
 And who would prize our summer glow 
 If winter gloom we did not know ? 
 
LIGHT AND SHADE. 
 
 
 
 Or rightly praise 
 The glad spring rays, 
 Who never saw our rainy days ? 
 
 How grateful in Arabian plain 
 ‘Of white and sparkling sand, 
 
 The shadow of a mighty rock 
 Across the weary land ! 
 
 And where the tropic glories rise, 
 
 Responsive to the fiery skies, 
 
 We could not dare 
 To meet the glare, 
 Or blindness were our bitter share. 
 
 Where is the soul so meek and pure, 
 Who through his earthly days 
 Life’s fullest sunshine could endure 
 In clear and cloudless blaze ? 
 The sympathetic eye would dim, 
 And others pine unmarked by him, 
 Were no chill shade 
 Around him laid, 
 And light of joy could never fade. 
 
 He, who the light-commanding word 
 
 Erst spake, and formed the eye, 
 
 Knows what that wondrous eye can bear, 
 
 And tempers with providing care, 
 
 By cloud and night, all hurtful glare, 
 
 By shadows ever nigh. 
 So in all wise and loving ways 
 He blends the shadows of our days, 
 15 
 
 193 
 
THE MINISTRY OF SONG. 
 
 ' To win our sight 
 From scenes of night, 
 To seek the ‘True and Only Light.” 
 
 We need some shadow o’er our bliss 
 Lest we forget the Giver ; 
 So often in our deepest joy 
 There comes a solemn quiver ; 
 We could not tell from whence it came, 
 The subtle cause we cannot name; | 
 Its twilight fall 
 May well recall 
 Calm thought of Him who gave us all. 
 
 There are who all undazzled tread 
 Awhile the sunniest plain ; 
 But they have sought the blesséd shade 
 By one great Rock of Ages made, 
 A sure, safe rest to gain. 
 Unshaded light of earth soon blinds 
 
 ‘l'o light of heaven sincerest minds ; 
 
 O envy not 
 A cloudless lot ! 
 We ask indeed we know not what. 
 
 So is it here, so is 1t now! 
 Not always will it be ! 
 There is a land that needs no shade, 
 A morn will rise which cannot fade, 
 And we, like flame-robed angels made, 
 That glory soon may see. 
 No cloud upon its radiant joy, 
 No shadow o’er its bright employ, 
 
 
 

 
 NO THORN WITHOUT A ROSE. 195 
 
 
 
 No sleep, no night, 
 But perfect sight, 
 The Lord our everlasting Light. 
 
 
 
 NO THORN WITHOUT A ROSE. 
 
 ““FT\HERE is no rose without a thorn !” 
 Who has not found this true, 
 And known that griefs of gladness born 
 Our footsteps still pursue ? 
 
 That in the grandest harmony 
 The strangest discords rise ; 
 The brightest bow we only trace 
 
 Upon the darkest skies! 
 
 No thornless rose! So, more and more, 
 Our pleasant hopes are laid | 
 Where waves this sable legend o’er 
 - A still, sepulchral shade. 
 
 But Faith and Love, with angel-might, 
 Break up life’s dismal tomb, 
 Transmuting into golden light 
 The words of leaden gloom. 
 
 Reversing all this funeral pall, 
 White raiment they disclose ; 
 
 Their happy song floats full and long, 
 ‘* No thorn without a rose ! 
 
196 
 
 THE MINISTRY OF SONG. 
 
 “‘No shadow, but its sister light 
 Not far away must burn ! 
 
 No weary night, but morning bright 
 Shall follow in its turn. 
 
 “‘No chilly snow, but safe below 
 A million buds are sleeping ; 
 
 No wintry days, but fair spring rays 
 Are swiftly onward sweeping. 
 
 ‘“‘ With fiercest glare of summer air 
 Comes fullest leafy shade ; 
 
 And ruddy fruit bends every shoot, 
 Because the blossoms fade. 
 
 ‘‘No note of sorrow but shall melt 
 In sweetest chord unguessed ; 
 No labor all too pressing felt, 
 But ends in quiet rest. 
 
 <‘No sigh but from the harps above ~ 
 Soft echoing tones shall win ; 
 
 No heart-wound but the Lord of Love 
 Shall pour His comfort in, 
 
 ‘‘No withered hope, while loving best 
 Thy Father’s chosen way ; 
 
 No anxious care, for He will bear 
 Thy burdens every day. 
 
 
 
GOD THE PROVIDER. 197 
 
 
 
 «Thy claim to rest on Jesu’s breast 
 All weariness shall be, 
 
 And pain thy portal to His heart 
 Of boundless sympathy. 
 
 “* No conflict but the King’s own hand 
 Shall end the glorious strife ; 
 
 No death, but leads thee to the land 
 Of everlasting life.” 
 
 Sweet seraph voices, Faith and Love! 
 Sing on within our hearts 
 
 This strain of music from above, 
 Till we have learnt our parts: 
 
 Until we see your alchemy 
 On all that years disclose, 
 
 And, taught by you, still find it true, 
 «© No thorn without a rose !” 
 
 GOD THE PROVIDER. 
 
 ‘My God shall supply all your need, according to His riches in glory by 
 Christ Jesus.” 
 
 THO shall tell our untold need, 
 Deeply felt, though scarcely known ? 
 Who the hungering soul can feed, 
 Guard, and guide, but God alone ? 
 
 
 
198 
 
 THE MINISTRY OF SONG. 
 
 
 
 Blesséd promise ! while we see 
 Earthly friends must powerless be, 
 Earthly fountains quickly dry : 
 “God” shall all your need supply. 
 
 He hath said it! so we know 
 Nothing less can we receive. 
 
 Oh, that thankful love may glow 
 While we restfully believe,— 
 
 Ask not how, but trust Him still ; 
 
 Ask not when, but wait His will : 
 
 Simply on His word rely, 
 
 God ‘‘ shall” all your need supply. 
 
 Through the whole of life’s long way, 
 Outward, inward need we trace ; 
 Need, arising day by day, 
 Patience, wisdom, strength, and grace. 
 Needing Jesus most of all, 
 Full of need, on Him we call ; 
 Then how gracious His reply, 
 God shall * ail” your need supply ! 
 
 Great our need, but greater far 
 Is our Father’s loving power ; 
 He upholds each mighty star, 
 He unfolds each tiny flower. 
 He who numbers every hair, 
 Earnest of His faithful care, 
 Gave His Son for us to die; 
 God shall all ‘*‘ your” need supply. - 
 
 
 
' GOD THE PROVIDER. 
 
 Yet we often vainly plead 
 For a fancied good denied, 
 What we deemed a pressing need 
 Still remaining unsupplied. 
 Yet from dangers all concealed, 
 Thus our wisest Friend doth shield ; 
 No good thing will He deny, 
 God shall all your “need” supply. 
 
 Can we count redemption’s treasure, 
 Scan the glory of God’s love ? 
 
 Such shall be the boundless measure 
 Of His blessings from above. 
 
 All we ask and think, and more, 
 
 He will give in bounteous store, 
 
 He can fill and satisfy, 
 
 God shall all your need “ supply.” * ° 
 
 One the channel, deep and broad, 
 From the Fountain of the Throne, 
 
 Christ the Saviour, Son of God, 
 Blessings flow through Him alone. 
 
 He, the Faithful and the True, 
 
 Brings us mercies ever new : 
 
 Till we reach His home on high, 
 
 ** God shall all your wants supply.” 
 
 
 
 199 
 
 eee 
 
 * The Greek word is much stronger than the English,—mrAnpwcec— will supply 
 to the full,” “* fill up,”’ ‘‘ satisfy.” 
 
200 THE MINISTRY OF SONG. 
 
 CHRIST 3 LAC ALA. 
 
 | Etereees 
 O wanderer from my side! 
 
 Soon droops each blossom of the darkening wild, 
 Soon melts each meteor which thy steps beguiled, 
 Soon is the cistern dry which thou hast hewn, 
 And thou wilt weep in bitterness full soon. 
 Return! ere gathering night shall shroud the way 
 ‘Thy footsteps yet may tread, in this accepted day. 
 
 Return, 
 
 O erring, yet beloved ! 
 I wait to bind thy bleeding feet, for keen 
 And rankling are the thorns where thou hast been ; 
 I wait to give thee pardon, love, and rest. 
 Is not. My joy to see thee safe and blest ? 
 Return! I wait to hear once more thy voice 
 To welcome thee anew, and bid thy heart rejoice. 
 
 Return, 
 
 O fallen, yet not lost ! 
 Canst thou forget the life for thee laid down, 
 The taunts, the scourging, and the thorny crown ? 
 When o’er thee first My spotless robe I spread, 
 And poured the oil of joy upon thy head, 
 How did thy weakening heart within thee burn ! 
 Canst thou remember all, and wilt thou not return ? 
 
 Return, 
 O chosen of my love! 
 Fear not to meet chy beckoning Saviour’s view 5 
 Long ere I called thee by thy name, I knew 
 
 
 
 le ae 
 
FAITH S QUESTION. 
 
 That very treacherously thou wouldst deal : 
 Now I have seen thy ways, yet I will heal. 
 Return! Wilt thou yet linger far from Me ? 
 
 My wrath is turned away, I have redeeméd thee. 
 
 FAITH’S QUESTION. 
 
 ble whom, O Saviour, shall we go 
 For life, and joy, and light ? 
 No help, no comfort from below, 
 No lasting gladness we may know, 
 No hope may bless our sight. 
 Our souls are weary and athirst, 
 But earth is iron-bound and cursed, 
 And nothing she may yield can stay 
 The restless yearnings day by day ; 
 Yet, without Thee, Redeemer blest, 
 We would not, if we could, tind rest. 
 
 To whom, O Saviour, shall we go ? 
 We gaze around in vain. 
 
 Though pleasure’s fairy lute be strung, 
 
 And mirth’s enchaining lay be sung, 
 We dare not trust the strain. 
 
 The touch of sorrow or of sin 
 
 Hath saddened all, without, within : 
 
 201 
 
202 
 
 THE MINISTRY OF SONG. 
 
 
 
 
 
 What here we fondly love and prize, 
 However beauteous be its guise, 
 
 Has passed, is passing, or may pass, 
 Like frost-fringe on the autumn grass. 
 
 To whom, O Saviour, shall we go? 
 Our spirits dimly wait 
 In the dungeon of our mortal frame ; 
 And only one of direful name 
 Can force its sin-barred gate. 
 Our loved ones can but greet us through 
 The prison grate, from which we view 
 All outward things. ‘They enter not: 
 Thou, 'Thou alone, canst cheer our lot. 
 O Christ, we long for ‘hee to dwell 
 Within our solitary cell ! 
 
 To whom, O Saviour, shall we go ? 
 Unless Thy voice we hear, 
 
 All tuneless falls the sweetest song, 
 
 And lonely seems the busiest throng 
 Unless we feel ‘hee near. 
 
 We dare not think what earth would be, 
 
 Thou Heaven-Creator, but for Thee ; 
 
 A howling chaos, wild and dark— 
 
 One flood of horror, while no ark, 
 
 Upborne above the gloom-piled wave, 
 
 From one great death-abyss might save. 
 
 To whom, O Saviour, shall we go? 
 The Tempter’s power is great ; 
 
 
 
MORE MUSIC. 
 
 E’en in our hearts is evil bound, 
 And, lurking stealthily around, _ 
 Still for our souls doth wait. 
 Thou tempted One, whose suffering heart 
 In ail our sorrows bore a part, 
 Whose life-blood only could atone, 
 ‘loo weak are we to stand alone; 
 And nothing but Thy shield of light 
 Can guard us in the dreaded fight. 
 
 To whom, O Saviour, shall we go? 
 The night of death draws near ; 
 
 Its shadow must be passed alone, 
 
 No friend can with our souls go down 
 ‘he untried way to cheer. 
 
 Thou hast the words of endless life ; 
 
 Thou givest victory in the strife ; 
 
 Thou only art the changeless Friend, 
 
 On whom for aye we may depend : 
 
 In life, in death, alike we flee, 
 
 O Saviour of the world! to THEE. 
 
 
 
 oo 
 
 >< MORE MUSIC. 
 
 H, for a burst of song, 
 Exultant, deep, and strong, 
 
 One gush of music’s billowy might, 
 
 To bear my soul away 5 
 Into the realms of day,’ 
 
 From these dim glacier-caves of Life’s cold night ! 
 
 203, 
 
204. THE MINISTRY OF SONG. 
 
 
 
 Oh, for a sunset strain 
 Wafted o’er slumberous main, 
 To enter, spirit-like, my prisoned heart, 
 And there, with viewless hand, 
 Unloose each mortal band, 
 That in the songs of heaven I too might learn a part ! 
 
 The sweetest music here 
 
 Calls forth the quiet tear, 
 For grief and gladness flow in blended stream ; 
 ~ Oh for the joyous day 
 
 (Can it be far away ?) 
 
 / When one great Alleluia song shall chase Life’s tunelesa 
 
 dream ! 
 
 
 
 \ THE RIGHT WAY. 
 
 ORD, is it still the right way, though I cannot see 
 Thy face, 
 Though I do not feel Thy presence and Thine ali- 
 sustaining grace ? 
 Can even this be leading through the bleak and sunless 
 wild 
 To the City of Thy holy rest, the mansions undefiled ? 
 
 Lord, is it still the right way ? A while ago I passed 
 Where every step seemed thornier and harder than the 
 last ; 
 
 
 
 —s i 
 
 | 
 } 
 ; 
 . 
 . 
 1 
 
 
 
THE RIGHT WAY. ~ 205 
 
 SS 
 
 
 
 Where bitterest disappointment and inly aching sorrow 
 Carved day by day a weary cross, renewed with every 
 morrow. 
 
 The heaviest end of that strange cross I knew was laid 
 on Thee ; 
 So I could still press on, secure of Thy deep sympathy. 
 Our upward path may well be steep, else how were 
 patience tried ? 
 I knew it was the right way, for it led me to Thy side. 
 
 But now I wait alone amid dim shadows dank and chill ; 
 
 All moves and changes round me, but I seem standing 
 still ; 
 
 Or every feeble footstep I urge toward the light 
 
 Seems but to lead me farther into the silent night. 
 
 I cannot hear Thy voice, Lord! dost Thou still hear my 
 ery ? 
 
 I cling to Thine assurance that Thou art ever nigh ; 
 
 I know that Thou art faithful ; I trust, but cannot see 
 
 That it is still the right way by which Thou leadest me. 
 
 I think I could go forward with brave and joyful heart, 
 
 Though every step should pierce me with unknown fiery 
 smart, . 
 
 If I might only see Thee, if I might gaze above 
 
 On all the cloudless glory of the sunshine of Thy love. 
 
206 THE MINISTRY OF SONG. 
 
 Is it really leading onwards? When the shadows flee 
 away, | 
 
 Shall I find this path has brought me more near to per- 
 fect day ? 
 
 Or am I left to wander thus that I may stretch my hand 
 
 To some still wearier traveler in this same shadow-land? 
 
 Is this thy chosen training for some future task un- 
 known ? 
 
 Is it that I may learn to rest upon Thy word alone ? 
 
 Whate’er it be, oh! leave me not, fulfill Thou every hour 
 
 The purpose of Thy goodness, and the work of faith 
 with power. — 
 
 I lay my prayer before Thee, and, trusting in Thy word, 
 
 Though all is silence in my heart, I know that Thou hast 
 heard. 
 
 To that blest City lead me, Lord (still choosing all my 
 way) 3 
 
 Where faith melts into vision as the starlight into day. 
 
 THY WILL BE DONE 
 
 «Understanding what the will of the Lord is.”—Epm. v. 17. 
 
 ITH quivering heart and trembling will, 
 The word hath passed thy lips, 
 Within the shadow, cold and still, 
 Of some fair joy’s eclipse. 
 
 “ res © eee 
 e ee Oe es ee ee ee ss 
 
 
 
 
 SS SS 
 
| THY WILL BE DONE. 
 
 
 
 «Thy will be done!” Thy God hath heard, 
 And He will crown that faith-framed word. 
 
 Thy prayer shall be fulfilled: but how ? 
 His thoughts are not as thine ; 
 
 While thou wouldst only weep and bow, 
 He saith, ‘‘ Arise and shine!” 
 
 Thy thoughts were all of grief and night, 
 
 But His of boundless joy and light. 
 
 Thy Father reigns supreme above : 
 The glory of His name 
 
 Is Grace and Wisdom, Truth and Love, 
 His will must be the same. 
 
 And thou hast asked all joys in one, 
 
 In whispering forth, ‘‘ Thy will be done.” 
 
 His will—each soul to sanctify 
 Redeeming might hath won ; 
 His will—that thou shouldst never die, 
 Believing on His Son; 
 His will—that thou, through earthly strife, 
 Shouldst rise to everlasting life. 
 
 That one unchanging song of praise 
 Should from our hearts arise ; 
 
 That we should know His wondrous ways, 
 Though hidden from the wise ; 
 
 That we, so sinful and so base, 
 
 Should know the glory of His grace. 
 
 207 
 
208 
 
 
 
 THE MINISTRY OF SONG. 
 
 His will—to grant the yearning prayer 
 For dear ones far away, 
 
 That they His grace and Jove may share, 
 And tread His pleasant way ; 
 
 That in the Father and the Son 
 
 All perfect we may be in one. 
 
 His will—the little flock to bring 
 Into His royal fold, 
 
 To reign forever with their King, 
 His beauty to behold. 
 
 Sin’s fell dominion crushed for aye, 
 
 Sorrow and sighing fled away. 
 
 This thou hast asked! And shall the prayer 
 Float upward on a sigh ? 
 
 No song were sweet enough to bear 
 Such glad desires on high ! 
 
 But God thy Father shall fulfill, 
 
 In thee and for thee, all His will. 
 
 
 
 WAIT PATIENTLY FOR HIM, 
 
 OD doth not bid thee wait, 
 To disappoint at last; 
 
 A golden promise, fair and great, © 
 In precept-mold is cast. 
 
 Soon shall the morning gild 
 The dark horizon-rim, 
 
 Thy heart’s desire shall be fulfilled. 
 “* Wait patiently for Him.” 
 
 
 

 
 THIS SAME JESUS. 209 
 
 
 
 The weary waiting times 
 Are but the muffled peals, 
 Low preluding celestial chimes, 
 That hail His chariot-wheels. 
 Trust Him to tune thy voice 
 To blend with seraphim ; 
 His “‘ Wait” shall issue in ‘ Rejoice ! ” 
 “Wait patiently for Him.” 
 
 He doth not bid thee wait, 
 Like drift-wood on the wave, 
 For fickle chance or fixed fate 
 To ruin or to save. 
 Thine eyes shall surely see— 
 No distant hope or dim— 
 The Lord thy God arise for thee: 
 ‘‘ Wait patiently for Him.” 
 
 
 
 THIS SAME JESUS. 
 
 Acts i. 11. 
 
 ‘“FT\HIS same Jesus!” Oh! how sweetly 
 Fall those words upon the ear, 
 Like a swell of far-off music, 
 In a nightwatch still and drear ! 
 
 He who healed the hopeless leper, 
 He who dried the widow’s tear, 
 He who changed to health and gladness 
 Helpless suffering, trembling fear 5” 
 14 
 
THE MINISTRY OF SONG. 
 
 
 
 
 
 He who wandered, poor and homeless, 
 By the stormy Galilee; _ 
 
 He who on the night-robed mountain 
 Bent in prayer the wearied knee ; 
 
 He who spake as none had spoken, 
 Angel-wisdom far above, 
 
  All-forgiving, ne’er upbraiding, 
 
 Full of tenderness and love ; 
 
 He who gently called the weary, 
 ‘“Come and I will give you rest !” 
 
 He who loved the little children, 
 Took them in His arms and blest ; 
 
 He, the lonely Man of Sorrows, 
 ’Neath our sin-curse bending low ; 
 By His faithless friends forsaken | 
 
 In the darkest hours of woe ;— 
 
 ‘“This same Jesus!” When the vision 
 Of that last and awful day 
 
 Bursts upon the prostrate spirit, 
 Like a midnight lightning ray ; 
 
 When, else dimly apprehended, 
 All its terrors seem revealed ; 
 Trumpet-knell and fiery heavens, 
 And the books of doom unsealed ; 
 
 
 

 
 HER BIRTHDAY. 211 
 
 Then, we lift our hearts, adoring 
 «‘This same Jesus,” loved and known, 
 Him, our own most gracious Saviour, 
 Seated on the great white Throne ; 
 
 He Himself, and ‘‘ not another,” 
 He for whom our heart-love yearned 
 Through long years of twilight waiting, 
 To His ransomed ones returned ! 
 
 For this word, O Lord, we bless Thee, 
 Bless our Master’s changeless name 5 
 Yesterday, to-day, forever, 
 Jesus Christ is still the Same. 
 
 
 
 HER BIRTHDAY. 
 
 HE is at rest, 
 In God’s own presence blest, 
 Whom, while with us, this day we loved to greet ; 
 Her birthdays o’er, 
 She counts the years no more ; 
 Time’s footfall is not heard along the golden street. 
 
 When we would raise 
 A hymn of birthday praise, 
 The music of our hearts is faint and low ; 
 Fear, doubt, and sin 
 Make dissonance within ; 
 And pure soul-melody no child of carth may know. 
 
212 THE MINISTRY OF SONG. 
 
 That strange ‘‘ new song,” 
 Amid a white-robed throng, 
 Is gushing from her harp in living tone : 
 Her seraph voice, 
 Tuned only to rejoice, 
 Floats upwards to the emerald-archéd throne, | 
 
 No passing cloud 
 Her loveliness may shroud ; 
 The beauty of her youth may never fade ; 
 No line of care 
 Her sealéd brow may wear ; 
 The joy-gleam of her eye no dimness e’er may shade. 
 
 No stain is there 
 Upon the robes they wear 
 Within the gates of pearl which she hath passed ; 
 Like woven light, 
 All beautiful and bright, 
 Eternity upon those robes no shade may cast. 
 
 No sin-born thought 
 May in that home be wrought 
 To trouble the clear fountain of her heart ; 
 No tear, no sigh, 
 No pain, no death, be nigh 
 Where she hath entered in, no more to “ know in part.” 
 
 Her faith is sight, 
 Her hope is full delight, 
 The shadowy veil of time is rent in twain: 
 
 
 
& ; 
 = i tee? 
 
 DAILY STRENGTH. 213 
 
 Her untold bliss— 
 What thought can follow this! 
 To her to live was Christ, to die indeed is gain. 
 
 Her eyes have seen 
 The King, no veil between, 
 In blood-dipped vesture gloriously arrayed : 
 No earth-breathed haze 
 Can dim that rapturous gaze ; 
 She sees Him face to face on whom her guilt was laid. 
 
 A little while, 
 And they whose loving smile 
 Had melted *neath the touch of lonely woe, 
 Shall reach her home 
 Beyond the star-built dome ; 
 Her anthem they shall swell, her joy they too shall 
 know. 
 
 
 
 e+e 
 
 
 
 WAILY STRENGTH. 
 
 of PA thy day thy strength shall be !” 
 This should be enough for thee ; 
 He who knows thy frame will spare 
 Burdens more than thou canst bear. 
 
 When thy days are veiled in night, 
 Christ shall give thee heavenly light ; 
 Seem they wearisome and long, 
 
 Yet in Him thou shalt be strong. 
 

 
 wit 
 
 i= ts a, * i : 
 op : = len : < 
 THE MINISTRY OF SONG. | 
 
 Cold and wintry though they prove, 
 Thine the sunshine of His love ; 
 
 Or, with fervid heat oppressed, 
 
 In His shadow thon shalt rest. 
 
 When thy days on earth are past, 
 Christ shall call thee home at last, 
 His redeeming love to praise, 
 
 Who hath strengthened all thy days. 
 
 
 
 “ MASTER, SAY ON!” 
 
 ASTER, speak! Thy servant heareth, 
 Waiting for Thy gracious word, 
 Longing for Thy voice that cheereth ; 
 Master ! let it now be heard. _ 
 I am listening, Lord, for Thee ; 
 What hast Thou to say to me? 
 
 Master, speak in love and power: 
 Crown the mercies of the day, 
 In this quiet evening hour 
 Of the moonrise o’er the bay, 
 With the music of Thy voice; _ 
 Speak ! and bid Thy child rejoice. 
 
 Often through my heart is pealing 
 Many another voice than Thine, 
 
 Many an unwilled echo stealing - 
 From the walls of this Thy shrine: 
 
 
 
_ Master, speak! I do not doubt Thee, 
 Though so tearfully I plead ; 
 Saviour, Shepherd ! Oh, without Thee 
 Life would be a blank indeed ! 
 _ But I long for fuller light, 
 Deeper love, and clearer sight. 
 
 
 
 ___ Resting on the “faithful saying,” ; 
 . Trusting what Thy gospel saith, 
 - On Thy written promise staying 
 | All my hope im life and death, 
 Yet I long for something more 
 
 From Thy love's exkaustless store. 
 
 a 
 
 : Speak to me by name, 0 Master, 
 Let me £now it is to me; 
 Speak, that I may follow faster, 
 With a step more firm and free, 
 — Where the Shepherd leads the flock, 
 In the shadow of the Rock. 
 
 Oe grins ne ee ter 
 
 i Master, speak! I kneel before Thee, 
 4 Listening. longing, waiting still; | 
 ba Oh, how long shall [implore Thee _ 
 
 This petition to fulfill ? / 
 Hast thou not one word for me ? 
 Must my prayer unanswered be ? 
 
 
 
216 
 
 THE MINISTRY OF SONG. 
 
 Master, speak! Though least and lowest, 
 Let me not unheard depart ; 
 
 Master, speak! for oh, Thou knowest 
 All the yearning of my heart, 
 
 Knowest all its truest need ; 
 
 Speak ! and make me blest indeed. 
 
 Master, speak ! and make me ready, 
 When Thy voice is truly heard, 
 
 With obedience glad and steady 
 
 _ Still to follow every word. 
 
 I am listening, Lord, for Thee ; 
 
 Master, speak, oh, speak to me! 
 
 
 
 REMOTE RESOLTS, 
 
 AV Vee are the countless crystals, 
 So perfect and so bright, 
 That robed in softest ermine 
 The winter day and night ? - 
 Not lost! for, life to many a root, 
 They rise again in flower and fruit. 
 
 Where are the mighty forests, 
 And giant ferns of old, 
 That in primeval silence 
 Strange leaf and frond unrolled ? 
 Not lost! for now they shine and blaze, 
 The light and warmth of Christmas days. 
 
 
 
/ 
 
 | 
 
 REMOTE RESULTS. wy 
 
 
 
 Where are our early lessons, 
 The teachings of our youth, 
 The countless words forgotten 
 Of knowledge and of truth ? 
 Not lost! for they are living still, 
 As power to think, and do, and will. © 
 
 Where is the seed we scatter, 
 With weak and trembling hand, 
 Beside the gloomy waters, 
 Or on the arid land ? 
 Not lost ! for after many days 
 Our prayer and toil shall turn to praise. 
 
 Where are the days of sorrow, 
 And lonely hours of pain, 
 When work is interrupted, 
 Or planned and willed in vain ? 
 Not lost! it is the thorniest shoot 
 That bears the Master’s pleasant fruit, 
 
 Where, where are all God’s lessons, 
 His teachings dark or bright ? 
 Not lost! but only hidden, 
 Till, in eternal light, 
 We see, while at His feet we fall, 
 The reasons and results of all. 
 
218 THE MINISTRY OF SONG. 
 
 EVERLASTING LOVE. 
 
 ‘“*'Yea, I have loved thee with an everlasting love, ‘herefore with loving-kindness 
 have I drawn thee.”? ‘‘ No mancan come to Me except the Father which hath 
 sent Me draw him.” j 
 
 OD’S everlasting love! What wouldst thou more cee 
 O true and tender friend, well hast thou spoken. 
 My heart was restless, weary, sad, and sore, 
 And longed and listened for some heaven-sent token : 
 And, like a child that knows not why it cried, 
 *Mid God’s full promises it moaned, ‘‘ Unsatisfied !” 
 
 Yet there it stands. O love surpassing thought, 
 
 So bright, so grand, so clear, so true, so glorious ; 
 Love infinite, love tender, love unsought, 
 
 Love changeless, love rejoicing, love victorious ! 
 And this great love for us in boundless store : 
 God’s everlasting love! What would we more ? 
 
 Yes, one thing more! To know it ours indeed, 
 ‘lo add the conscious joy of full possession. 
 O tender grace that stoops to every need ! 
 This everlasting love hath found expression 
 In loving-kindness, which hath gently drawn 
 The heart that else astray too willingly had gone. 
 
 From no less fountain such a stream could flow, 
 No other root could yield so fair a flower : 
 “tad He not loved, He had not drawn us so ; 
 Had He not drawn, we had nor will nor power — 
 To rise, to come ;—the Saviour had passed by 
 Where we in blindness sat without one care or cry. 
 
 
 
GOD’S MESSAGE. 219 
 
 We thirst for God, our treasure is above ; 
 Earth has no gift our one desire to meet, 
 And that desire is pledge of His own love. 
 Sweet question ; with no answer ! oh how sweet! 
 My heart in chiming gladness o’er and o’er 
 Sings on :—‘‘God’s everlasting love! What wouldst 
 thou more ?” 
 
 GOD'S MESSAGE. 
 TO HIM THAT IS FAR OFF. 
 
 HACE, peace! | 
 To him that is far away. 
 Turn, O wanderer ! why wilt thou die, © 
 When the peace is made that shall bring thee nigh ? 
 Listen, O rebel! the heralds proclaim 
 : The King’s own peace through a Saviour’s name ; 
 Then yield thee to-day. 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Peace, peace ! 
 The word of the Lord to thee. 
 Peace for thy passion and restless pride, 
 For thy endless cravings all unsupplied, 
 Peace for thy weary and sin-worn breast ; 
 He knows the need who has promised rest, 
 And the gift is free. 
 
 Peace, peace ! 
 Through Him who for all hath died ! 
 
 
 
 
 
220 THE MINISTRY OF SONG. 
 
 Wider the terms than thy deepest guilt, 
 Or in vain were the blood of our Surety spilt : 
 Even because thou art far away 
 To thee is the message of peace to-day, 
 Peace through the Crucified. 
 
 AND TO HIM THAT IS NEAR. 
 
 PEACE, peace ! 
 Yea, peace to him that is near. 
 The crown is set on the Victor’s brow, 
 For thy warfare is accomplished now ; 
 And for thee eternal peace is made 
 By the Lord on whom thy sins were laid : 
 Then why shouldst thou fear ? 
 
 Peace, peace ! , 
 Wrought by the Spirit of Might. 
 In thy deepest sorrow and sorest strife, 
 In the changes and chances of mortal life, 
 It is thine, beloved! Christ’s own bequest, 
 Which vainly the Tempter shall strive to wrest ; 
 It is now thy right. 
 
 Peace, peace ! 
 Look for its bright increase ; 
 Deepening, widening, year by year, 
 Like a sunlit river, strong, calm, and clear ; 
 Lean on His love through this earthly vale, 
 For His word and His work shall never fail, 
 And ‘‘ He is our Peace.” 
 
 
 

 
 CANDLEMAS DAY. 221 
 
 
 
 CANDLEMAS DAY. 
 
 Y ES, take the greenery away 
 That smiled to welcome Christmas Day ; 
 Untwine the drooping ivy spray. 
 
 The holly leaves are dusty all, 
 Whose glossy darkness robed the wall, 
 And one by one the berries fall. 
 
 Take down the yew, for with a touch 
 The leaflets drop, as wearied much 
 With light and song, unused to such. 
 
 Poor evergreens! Why proudly claim 
 The glory of your lovely name, 
 So soon meet only for the flame ? 
 
 Another Christmas Day will show 
 Another green and scarlet glow, 
 _ A fresh array of mistletoe. 
 
 And this new beauty, arch or crown, 
 Will stiffen, gather dust, grow brown, 
 And in its turn be taken down. 
 
 To-night the walls will seem so bare! 
 Ah, well, look out, look up, for there 
 The Christmas stars are always fair. 
 
222 THE MINISTRY OF SONG. 
 
 They will be shining just as clear 
 Another and another year, 
 O’er all our darkened hemisphere. 
 
 So Christmas mirth has fleeted fast 3 
 The songs of time can never last, 
 And all is buried with the past. 
 
 But Christmas love and joy and peace 
 Shall never fade and never cease, 
 Of God’s goodwill the rich increase. 
 
 
 
 HOW SHOULD THEY KNOW ME? 
 
 HERE are those who deem they know me well, 
 And smile as I tell them ‘no !” 
 Who think they may clearly and carelessly tell 
 Each living drop in my heart’s deep well, 
 And lightly enter its inmost cell ; 
 But little (how little!) they know! 
 
 How should they know me ? My soul is a maze 
 Where I wander alone, alone ; 
 Never a footfall there was heard, 
 Never a mortal hand hath stirred 
 _ The silence-curtain that hangs between 
 Outer and inner, nor eye hath seen 
 What is only and ever my own. 
 
 
 

 
 HOW SHOULD THEY KNOW ME? 
 
 For its gate is opened wide, 
 High as the roof, and I welcome all 
 Who will visit my warm reception-hall, 
 And utter a long and loving call 
 
 T'o some who are yet outside. 
 
 They have entered indeed the vestibule, \ 
 
 I would lead each guest to a place of rest ; 
 
 All should be calm and bright ; 
 Then a lulling flow of melody, 
 And a crystal draught of sympathy, 
 . And odorous blossoms of kindly thought, 
 With golden fruit of deed be brought 
 From the chambers out of sight. 
 
 Some I would take with a cordial hand, 
 ~ And lead them round the walls ; 
 Showing them many a storied screen, 
 Many a portrait, many a scene, 
 Deep-cut carving, and outlined scroll ; 
 Passing quickly where shadows roll, 
 Slowly where sunshine falls. 
 
 _ They do not know and they cannot see 
 That strong-hinged, low-arched door, 
 | Though I am passing in and out, 
 
 _ From gloom within to light without, 
 
 _ Or from gloom without to light. within 5 
 
 | None can ever an entrance win, 
 
 | None ! for evermore. 
 
 2293 
 
 
 
oO4 THE MINISTRY OF SONG. 
 
 It is a weird and wondrous realm, 
 Where I often hold my breath 
 At the unseen things which there I see, 
 At the mighty shapes which beckon to me, 
 At the visions of woe and ecstasy, 
 At the greetings of life and death. 
 
 They rise, they pass, they melt away, 
 
 In an ever-changing train 5 
 I cannot hold them or tell their stay, 
 Or measure the time of their fleeting sway ; 
 As grim as night, and as fair as day, 
 
 They vanish and come again. 
 
 I wander on through the strange domain, 
 Marveling ever and aye ; 
 Marveling how around my feet 
 All the opposites seem to meet, 
 The dark, the light, the chill, the glow, 
 The storm, the calm, the fire, the snow, 
 How can it be? Ido not know. 
 Then how, oh how, can they ? 
 
 What am J, and how? If reply there be, 
 In unsearchable chaos ’tis cast. 
 Though the soaring spirit of restless man 
 Might the boundary line of the universe scan, 
 And measure and map its measureless plan, 
 The gift of self-knowledge were last ! 
 
 
 

 
 - MAKING POETRY. 225 
 
 eee 
 
 
 
 MAKING POETRY. 
 
 ee one, what are you doing, 
 Sitting on the window-seat ? 
 
 Laughing to yourself and writing, 
 
 Some right merry thought inditing, ~ 
 Balancing with swinging feet. 
 
 <<°T is some poetry I’m making, 
 Though I never tried before : 
 
 Four whole lines ! I ll read them to you. 
 
 Do you think them funny, do you ? 
 Shall I try to make some more ? 
 
 “‘T should like to be a poet, 
 Writing verses every day ; 
 Then to you I’d always bring them, 
 You should make a tune and sing them ; 
 "I would be pleasanter than play.” 
 
 Think you, darling, nought is needed 
 But the paper and the ink, 
 
 And a pen to trace so lightly, 
 
 While the eye is beaming brightly, 
 All the pretty things we think ? 
 
 There ’s a secret—can you trust me ? 
 Do not ask me what it is! 
 
 Perhaps some day you too will know it, 
 
 If you live to be a poet, 
 
 All its agony and bliss. 
 15 
 
226 
 
 THE MINISTRY OF SONG. - ; 
 
 Poetry is not a trifle, - 
 
 Lightly thought and lightly made ; 
 Not a fair and scentless flower, 
 Gayly cultured for an hour, 
 
 Then as gayly left to fade. 
 
 "T is not stringing rhymes together 
 In a pleasant true accord ; 
 
 Not the music of the metre, 
 
 Not the happy fancies, sweeter 
 Than a flower bell, honey-stored. 
 
 *T is the essence of existence, 
 Rarely rising to the light ; 
 And the songs that echo longest, 
 Deepest, fullest, truest, strongest, 
 With your life-blood you will write. 
 
 | With your life-blood. -None will know it, 
 You will never tell them how. 
 | Smile ! and they will never guess it : 
 Laugh ! and you will not confess it 
 By your paler cheek and brow. 
 
 There must be the tightest tension 
 Ere the tone be full and true ; 
 
 Shallow lakelets of emotion 
 
 Are not like the spirit-ocean, 
 Which reflects the purest blue. 
 
 
 

 
 MAKING POETRY. 2279 
 
 
 
 Every lesson you sha!l utter, 
 
 If the charge indeed be yours, 
 First is gained by earnest learning, 
 Carved in letters deep and burning 
 
 On a heart that long endures. 
 
 Day by day that wondrous tablet 
 Your life-poem shall receive, 
 
 By the hand of Joy or Sorrow ; 
 
 But the pen can never borrow 
 Half the records that they leave. 
 
 You will only give a transcript 
 Of a life-line here and there, 
 Only just a spray-wreath springing 
 From the hidden depths, and flinging 
 Broken rainbows on the air. 
 
 Still, if you but copy truly, 
 
 *T will be poetry indeed, 
 Echoing many a heart’s vibration, 
 Rather love than admiration 
 
 Earning as your priceless meed. 
 
 Will you seek it ? Will you brave it ? 
 °T is a strange and solemn thing, 
 
 Learning long before your teaching, 
 
 Listening long before your preaching, 
 Suffering before you sing. 
 
228 THE MINISTRY OF SONG. 
 
 FAITH AND REASON. 
 
 EASON unstrings the harp to see 
 Wherein the music dwells; 
 Faith pougs a Hallelujah song, 
 And heavenly rapture swells. 
 While Reason strives to count the drops 
 That lave our narrow. strand, 
 Faith launches o’er the mighty deep, 
 To seek a better land. 
 
 One is the foot that slowly treads 
 Where darkling mists enshroud ; 
 The other is the wing that cleaves 
 Each heaven-obscuring cloud. 
 Reason, the eye which sees but that 
 On which its glance is cast ; 
 Faith is the thought that blends in one 
 The Future and the Past. 
 
 In hours of darkness, Reason waits, 
 Like those in days of yore, 
 
 Who rose not from their night-bound place, 
 On dark Egyptian shore. 
 
 But Faith more firmly clasps the hand 
 Which led her all the day, 
 
 And when the wished-for morning dawns, 
 Is farther on her way. 
 
 By Reason’s alehymy in vain 
 Is golden treasure planned ; 
 
 Faith meekly takes a priceless crown, 
 Won by no mortal hand. 
 
 
 
Pt OS ae 
 
 FAITH AND REASON. 
 
 While Reason is the laboring oar 
 ‘hat smites the wrathful seas, 
 
 Faith is the snowy sail set out 
 To catch the freshening breeze. 
 
 Reason, the telescope that scans 
 A universe of light ; 
 But Faith, the angel who may dwell 
 Among those regions bright. 
 Reason, a lonely towering elm, 
 May fall before the blast ; 
 Faith, like the ivy on the rock, 
 Is safe in clinging fast. 
 
 While Reason, like a Levite, waits 
 Where priest and people meet, 
 
 Faith, by a ‘‘new and living way,” 
 Hath gained the mercy-seat. 
 
 While Reason but returns to tell 
 That this is not our rest, 
 
 Faith, like a weary dove, hath sought 
 A gracious Saviour’s breast. 
 
 Yet both are surely precious gifts 
 From Him who leads us home ; 
 
 Though in the wilds Himself hath trod 
 A little while we roam. 
 
 And, linked within the soul that knows 
 A living, loving Lord, 
 
 Faith strikes the key-note, Reason then - 
 
 Fills up the full-toned chord. 
 
 229 
 
230 THE MINISTRY OF SONG. 
 
 Faith is the upward-pointing spire 
 O’er life’s great temple springing, 
 From which the chimes of love float forth 
 Celestially ringing ; 
 While Reason stands below upon 
 The consecrated ground, 
 And, like a mighty buttress, clasps 
 The wide foundation round. 
 
 Faith is the bride that stands enrobed 
 In white and pure array ; 
 
 Reason, the handmaid who may share 
 The gladness of the day. 
 
 Faith leads the way, and Reason learns 
 To follow in her train ; 
 
 Till, step by step, the goal is reached, 
 And death is glorious gain. 
 
 
 
 A LOLIL INATE 
 
 ‘© And He said unto them, Come ye yourselves apart into a desert place, and 
 rest a while: for there were many coming and going, and they had no leisure so 
 much as to eat.”—MARK Vi. 31. 
 
 OF for ‘‘a desert place” with only the Master’s 
 
 smile ! 
 Oh, for the ‘‘coming apart” with only His ‘‘rest a 
 while!” 
 Many are ‘‘coming and going” with busy and restless 
 feet, 
 
 And the soul is hungering now, with ‘‘no leisure so 
 much as to eat.” 
 
 
 
A LULL IN LIFE. 231 
 
 
 
 Dear is my wealth of love from many and valued friends, 
 
 Best of the earthly gifts that a bounteous Father sends ; 
 
 Pleasant the counsel sweet, and the interchange of 
 thought ; 
 
 Welcome the twilight hour, with musical brightness 
 fraught. 
 
 Dear is the work He gives in many a varied way, 
 
 Little enough in itself, yet something for every day,— 
 
 Something by pen for the distant, by -hand or voice for 
 the near, 
 
 Whether to soothe or teach, whether to aid or cheer. 
 
 Not that I lightly prize the treasure of valued friends, 
 
 Not that I turn aside from the work the Master sends, 
 
 Yet I have longed for a pause in the rush and whirl of 
 time ; . 
 
 Longed for silence to fall, instead of its merriest chime ; 
 
 Longed for a hush to group the harmonies of thought 
 
 Round each melodious strain that the harp of life hath 
 caught, 
 
 And time for the fitful breeze Aolian chords to bring, 
 
 Waking the music that slept, mute in the tensionless 
 string ; | 
 
 Longed for a calm to let the circles die away 
 
 That tremble over the heart, breaking the heavenly ray, 
 
 And to leave its wavering mirror true to the Star above, 
 
 Brightened and stilled to its depths with the quiet of 
 “< perfect love :” 
 
2a2 THE MINISTRY OF SONG. 
 
 Longed for a sabbath of life, a time of renewing of youth, 
 
 For a full-orbed leisure to shine on the fountains of holy 
 truth, | a 
 
 And to fill my chalice anew with its waters fresh and 
 sweet, 
 
 While resting in silent love at the Master’s glorious feet. 
 
 There are songs which only flow in the loneliest shades 
 of night ; 
 
 There are flowers which cannot grow in a blaze of tropical 
 light ; ) 
 
 There are crystals which cannot form till the vessel be 
 cooled and stilled : | 
 
 Crystal, and flower, and song, aren as God hath willed. 
 
 There is work which cannot be done in the swell of a 
 hurrying tide, 
 
 But my hand is not ou the helm to turn my bark aside ; 
 
 Yet I cast a longing eye on the hidden and waveless pool, 
 
 Under the shadowing rock, currentless, clear, and cool. 
 
 Well! I will wait in the crowd till He shall call me apart, 
 
 Till the silence fall which shall waken the music of mind 
 and heart ; 
 
 Patiently wait till He give the work of my secret choice, 
 
 Blending the song of life with the thrill of the Master’s 
 voice, 
 
 
 
ADORATION, 203 
 
 
 
 ADORATION. nae 
 () MASTER, at Thy feet 
 
 I bow in rapture sweet ! 
 Before me, as in darkening glass, 
 _ Some glorious outlines pass, 
 Of love, and truth, and holiness, and power ; 
 I own them Thine, O Christ, and bless Thee for this 
 hour. 
 
 O full of truth and grace, 
 Smile of Jehovah’s face, 
 O tenderest heart of love untold ! 
 Who may Thy praise unfold ? 
 Thee, Saviour, Lord of lords and King of kings, 
 Well may adoring seraphs hymn with veiling wings. 
 
 I have no words to bring 
 Worthy of Thee, my King, 
 And yet one anthem in Thy praise 
 I long, I long to raise ; 
 The heart is full, the eye entranced above, 
 But words all melt away in silent awe and love. 
 
 How can the lip be dumb, 
 The hand all still and numb, 
 When Thee the heart doth see and own 
 Her Lord and God alone ? 
 Tune for Thyself the music of my days, 
 And open Thou my lips, that I may show Thy praise. 
 
234 THE MINISTRY OF SONG. . 
 
 Yea, let my whole life be 
 One anthem unto Thee, 
 And let the praise of lip and life 
 Outring all sin and strife. 
 O Jesus, Master! be Thy name supreme 
 For heaven and earth the one, the grand, the eternal 
 theme. 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
PA {A Oba ae eG er LCL ML 
 W , 
 
 7 
 
 
 
 fee RST ONSES., 
 
 — 
 
 CONSECRATION HYMN. 
 
 ‘Here we offer and present unto Thee, O Lord, ourselves, our souls and bodies, 
 to be a reasonabie, holy, and lively sacrifice unto Thee.”’ 
 
 8 eee my life, and let it be 
 Consecrated, Lord, to Thee. 
 
 Take my moments and my days ; 
 Let them flow in ceaseless praise. 
 
 Take my hands, and let them move 
 At the impulse of Thy love. 
 
 Take my feet, and let them be : 
 Swift and “‘ beautiful ” for Thee. 
 
 Take my voice, and let me sing 
 Always, only, for my King. 
 235 
 
236 
 
 LOYAL RESPONSES. 
 
 
 
 Take my lips, and let them be 
 
 Filled with messages from Thee. 
 
 Take my silver and my gold ; 
 Not a mite would I withhold. 
 
 Take my intellect, and use 
 Every power as Thou shalt choose. 
 
 Take my will, and make it Thine ; 
 It shall be no longer mine. 
 
 Take my heart, it 7s Thine own ; 
 It shall be Thy royal throne. 
 
 Take my love ; my Lord, I pour 
 At Thy feet its treasure-store. 
 
 Take myself, and I will be 
 Ever, only, ALL for Thee. 
 
 OLD eAd tates 
 
 ‘‘ Know that the Lord hath set apart him that is godly for Himself.”’—Ps. iy. 3. 
 
 ‘ET apart for Jesus ! 
 KJ Ts not this enough, 
 Though the desert prospect 
 Open wild and rough ? 
 
 
 
SET APART. Rot 
 
 Set apart for His delight, 
 Chosen for His holy pleasure, 
 Sealed to be His special treasure ! 
 
 Could we choose a nobler joy ?—and would we if we 
 might ? 
 
 _ Set apart to serve Him, 
 Ministers of light, 
 Standing in His presence, 
 Ready day or night ! 
 Chosen for His service blest, 
 He would have us always willing 
 Like the angel-hosts, fulfilling 
 Swiftly and rejoicingly each recognized behest. 
 
 Set apart to praise Him, 
 Set apart for this ! 
 Have the blesséd angels 
 Any truer bliss ? 
 Soft the prelude, though so clear ; 
 Isolated tones are trembling ; 
 But the chosen choir, assembling, 
 Soon shall sing together, while the universe shall hear. 
 
 Set apart to love Him, 
 And His love to know! 
 Not to waste affection 
 On a passing show. 
 Called to give Him life and heart, 
 Called to pour the hidden treasure, 
 That none other claims to measure, 
 Into His belovéd hand ! thrice blesséd ‘‘ set apart !” 
 

 
 238 | LOYAL RESPONSES. 
 
 Set apart forever 
 For Himself alone ! 
 Now we see our calling 
 Gloriously shown. 
 Owning, with no secret dread, 
 This our holy separation, 
 Now the crown of consecration 
 Of the Lord our God shall rest upon our willing head ! 
 
 
 
 THE SECRET OF A HAPPY DAY. 
 ‘The secret of the Lord is with them that fear Him.’’—Ps. xxy. 14. 
 
 UST to let thy Father do 
 What He will; 
 Just to know that He is true, 
 And be still. 
 Just to follow hour by hour 
 As He leadeth ; | 
 Just to draw the moment’s power 
 As it needeth. 
 Just to trust Him, this is all! 
 Then the day will surely be 
 Peaceful, whatso’er befall, 
 Bright and blesséd, calm and free. 
 
 Just to let Him speak to thee | 
 Through His Word, 
 
 Watching, that His voice may be 
 Clearly heard. 
 
 
 

 
 THE SECRET OF A HAPPY DAY. 
 
 Just to tell Him everything 
 As 1t rises, 
 And at once to Him to bring 
 All surprises. 
 Just to listen and to stay 
 Where you cannot miss His voice. 
 This is all ! and thus to-day, 
 Communing, you shall rejoice. 
 
 Just to ask Him what to do 
 All the day, 
 And to make you quick and true 
 To obey. 
 Just to know the needed grace 
 He bestoweth, 
 Every bar of time and place 
 | Overfloweth. 
 Just to take thy orders straight 
 From the Master’s own command. 
 Blesséd day ! when thus we wait 
 Always at our Sovereign’s hand. 
 
 Just to recollect His love, 
 Always true ; 
 
 Always shining from above, 
 Always new. 
 
 Just to recognize its light, 
 Ail-enfolding ; 
 
 Just to claim its present might, 
 All-upholding. 
 
 239 
 

 
 240 LOYAL RESPONSES. a 
 
 Just to know it as thine own, 
 That no power can take away; 
 Is not this enough alone 
 For the gladness of the day F 
 
 Just to trust, and yet to ask 
 Guidance still ; 
 Take the training af the task, 
 As He will. 
 Just to take the loss or gain, 
 As He sends it ; 
 Just to take the joy or pain, 
 As He lends it. 
 He who formed thee for His praise 
 Will not miss the gracious aim ; 
 So to-day and all thy days 
 Shall be moulded for the same. 
 
 Just to leave in His dear hand 
 Little things, 
 All we cannot understand, > 
 All that stings. 
 Just to let Him take the care 
 Sorely pressing, 
 Finding all we let Him bear © 
 Changed to blessing. 
 This is all ! and yet the way 
 Marked by Him who loves thee best : 
 Secret of a happy day, » 
 Secret of His promised rest. 
 
 
 

 
 THE UNFAILING ONE. 
 
 R41 
 
 
 
 
 
 THE UNFAILING ONE. 
 / ; * He faileth not.’’—ZEPH. iii. 5. 
 
 1: E who hath led will lead 
 All through the wilderness ; 
 ~He who hath fed will feed ; 
 He who hath blessed will bless ; 
 He who hath heard thy ery © 
 Will never close His ear ; 
 He who hath marked thy faintest sigh 
 Will not forget thy tear. 
 He loveth always, faileth never ; 
 So rest on Him to-day, forever! / 
 
 a 
 
 He who hath made thee whole 
 Will heal thee day by day ; 
 He who hath spoken to thy soul 
 Hath many things to say. 
 He who hath gently taught 
 Yet more will make thee know ; 
 He who so wondrously hath wrought 
 Yet greater things will show. 
 He loveth always, faileth never ; 
 So rest on Him to-day, forever ! 
 
 He who hath made thee nigh 
 Will draw thee nearer still ; 
 
 He who hath given the first supply 
 Will satisfy and fill. 
 
242 LOYAL RESPONSES: — 
 
 He who hath given thee grace 
 Yet more and more will send; 
 He who hath set thee in the race 
 Will speed thee to the end. 
 He loveth always, faileth never ; 
 So rest on Him to-day, forever ! 
 
 He who hath won thy heart 
 Will keep it true and free ; 
 He who hath shown thee what thou art 
 Will show Himself to thee. 
 He who hath bid thee Jive, 
 And made thy life His own, 
 Life more abundantly will give, 
 And keep it His alone. 
 He loveth always, faileth never ; 
 So rest on Him to-day, forever ! 
 
 Then trust Him for to-day 
 As thine unfailing Friend, 
 And let Him lead thee all the way, 
 Who loveth to the end. 
 And let the morrow rest 
 In His beloved hand ; 
 His good is better than our best, 
 As we shall understand, — 
 If, trusting Him who faileth never, 
 We rest on Him to-day, forever! _, 
 
 A 
 Pa 
 of 
 
 
 
ON THE LORD’S SIDE. 243 
 
 
 
 Get PAY LORI S: SIDE, 
 **Thine are we, David, and on thy side, thou son of Jesse.’’—I. CHRON. xii. 18. 
 
 HO is on the Lord’s side ? 
 | Who will serve the King ? 
 Who will be His helpers, 
 Other lives to bring ? 
 Who will leave the world’s side ? 
 Who will face the foe ? 
 Who is on the Lord’s side ? 
 Who for Him will go? 
 ftesponse.—By Thy call of mercy, 
 By Thy grace divine, 
 We are on the Lord’s side ; 
 Saviour, we are Thine. 
 
 Not for weight of glory, 
 Not for crown and palm, 
 Enter we the army, 
 Raise the warrior-psalm ; 
 But for Love that claimeth 
 Lives for whom He died : 
 He whom Jesus nameth 
 Must be on His side. * 
 fesponse.—By Thy love constraining, 
 By Thy grace divine, 
 We are on the Lord’s side; 
 Saviour, we are Thine. 
 
 Jesus, Thou hast bought us, 
 Not with gold or gem, 
 
 But with Thine own life-blood, 
 For Thy diadem. 
 
oat LOYAL RESPONSES. © 
 
 With Thy blessing filling : 
 Each who comes to Thee, 
 Thou hast made us willing, 
 Thou hast made us free. 
 tesponse.—By Thy grand redemption, 
 By Thy grace divine, 
 We are on the Lord’s side ; 
 Saviour, we are Thine. 
 
 Fierce may be the conflict, 
 Strong may be the foe, 
 But the King’s own army 
 None can overthrow. » 
 Round His standard ranging, 
 Victory is secure, 
 For His truth unchanging 
 Makes the triumph sure. 
 Response.—Joyfully enlisting 
 By Thy grace divine, 
 We are on the Lorda’s side ; 
 Saviour, we are Thine. 
 
 Chosen to be soldiers 
 In an alien land; 
 ** Chosen, called, and faithful,” 
 For our Captain’s band ; 
 In the service royal 
 Let us not grow cold ; 
 Let us be right loyal, 
 Noble, true, and bold. 
 
 
 
TRUE-HEARTED, WHOLE-HEARTED. 245 
 
 
 
 Response. —Master, Thou wilt keep us, 
 By Thy grace divine, 
 Always on the Lord’s side, 
 Saviour, always Thine. 
 
 
 
 TRUE-HEARTED, WHOLE-HEARTED. 
 
 See TED, whole-hearted, faithful and loyal, 
 
 King of our lives, by Thy grace we will be! 
 
 Under Thy standard, exalted and royal, 
 Strong in Thy strength, we will battle for Thee ! 
 
 True-hearted, whole-hearted ! Fullest allegiance 
 Yielding henceforth to our glorious King ; 
 Valiant endeavor and loving obedience 
 Freely and joyously now would we bring. 
 
 Trne-hearted! Saviour, Thou knowest our story ; 
 Weak are the hearts that we lay at Thy feet, 
 Sinful and treacherous! yet, for Thy glory, 
 Heal them and cleanse them from sin and deceit, 
 
 Whole-hearted ! Saviour, beloved and glorious, 
 Take Thy great power, and reign Thou alone 
 Over our wills and affections victorious, 
 Freely surrendered, and wholly Thine own. 
 
246 LOYAL RESPONSES. 
 
 Half-hearted, false-hearted ! Heed we the warning ! 
 Only the whole can be perfectly true ; 
 
 Bring the whole offering, all timid thought scorning, 
 True-hearted only if whole-hearted too. 
 
 
 
 Half-hearted! Saviour, shall aught be withholden, 
 Giving Thee part who hast given us all ? 
 
 Blessings outpouring, and promises golden 
 Pledging with never reserve or recall. 
 
 Half-hearted ! Master, shall any who know Thee 
 Grudge Thee their lives, who hast laid down Thine 
 own ? 
 Nay; we would offer the hearts that we owe Thee,— 
 Live for Thy love and Thy glory alone. 
 
 Sisters, dear sisters, the call is resounding, 
 Will ye not echo the silver refrain, 
 Mighty and sweet, and in gladness abounding, — 
 ‘* True-hearted, whole-hearted !” ringing again ? 
 
 Jesus is with us, His rest is before us, 
 Brightly His standard is waving above. 
 Brothers, dear brothers, in gathering chorus, 
 Peal out the watchword of courage and love! 
 
 Peal out the watchword, and silence it never, 
 Song of our spirits, rejoicing and free ! 
 
 ‘«True-hearted, whole-hearted, now and forever, 
 King of our lives, by Thy grace we will be!” 
 
 
 

 
 ‘*BY THY CROSS AND PASSION.” 249 
 
 ema 
 
 ee ts) AV PASSION.” 
 **He hath given us rest by His sorrow, and life by His death.”"--JoHNn BUNYAN. 
 
 HAT hast Thou done for me, O mighty Friend, 
 Who lovest to the end! 
 Reveal Thyself, that I may now behold 
 Thy love unknown, untold, 
 Bearing the curse, and made a curse for me, 
 That blessed and made a blessing I might be. 
 
 Oh, Thou wast crowned with thorns, that I might wear 
 A crown of glory fair ; 
 
 «‘Hxceeding sorrowful,” that I might be 
 Exceeding glad in Thee ; 
 
 “Rejected and despised,” that I might stand 
 
 Accepted and complete on Thy right hand. 
 
 Wounded for my transgression, stricken sore, 
 That I might ‘‘sin no more ;” 
 Weak, that I might be always strong in Thee ; 
 ; Bound, that I might be free ; 
 Acquaint with grief, that I might only know 
 Fulness of joy in everlasting flow. 
 
 Thine was the chastisement, with no release, 
 That mine might be the peace ; 
 
 The bruising and the cruel stripes were Thine, 
 That healing might be mine ; 
 
 Thine was the sentence and the condemnation, 
 
 Mine the acquittal and the full salvation. 
 

 
 248 LOYAL RESPONSES. - 
 
 
 
 For Thee revilings and a mocking throng, 
 For me the angel-song ; 
 
 For Thee the frown, the hiding of God’s face, 
 For me His smile of grace ; 
 
 Sorrows of hell and bitterest death for Thee, 
 
 And heaven and everlasting life for me. 
 
 Thy cross and passion, and Thy precious death, 
 While I have mortal breath, 
 
 Shall be my spring of love and work and praise, 
 The life of all my days ; 
 
 Till all this mystery of love supreme 
 
 Be solved in glory—glory’s endless theme ! 
 
 
 
 THE OPENED FOUNTAIN. 
 
 ‘*A fountain opened for sin and for uncleanness. . . . Wounded in the 
 house of my friends.’’—Zxrcu. xiii. 1, 6. 
 
 ND I have wounded Thee—oh, wounded Thee !— 
 Wounded the dear, dear Hand that holds me 
 fast ! 
 Oh, to recall the word! That cannot be! 
 Oh, to unthink the thought that out of reach hath 
 passed ! 
 
 Sorrow and bitter grief replace my bliss ; 
 I could not wish that any joy should be; 
 There is no room for any thought but this : 
 That I have sinned — have sinned — have wounded 
 Thee ! 
 
 
 

 
 THE OPENED FOUNTAIN. 249 
 
 
 
 
 
 How could I grieve Thee so! Thou couldst have kept ; 
 
 My fall was not the failure of Thy word. 
 Thy promise hath no flaw, no dire ‘‘ except,” 
 To neutralize the grace so royally conferred. 
 
 Oh the exceeding sinfulness of sin ! 
 Tenfold exceeding in the love-lit light 
 Of Thy sufficient grace without, within, 
 Enough for every need, in never-conquered might ! 
 
 With all the shame, with all the keen distress, 
 Quick, ‘‘ waiting not,” I flee to Thee again ; 
 Close to the wound, belovéd Lord, I press, 
 That Thine own precious blood may overflow the stain. 
 
 O precious blood ! Lord, let it rest on me! 
 I ask not only pardon from my King, 
 
 But cleansing from my Priest. I come to Thee 
 Just as I came at first,—a sinful, helpless thing. 
 
 Oh, cleanse me now ! My ‘Lord, I cannot stay 
 For evening shadows and a silent hour: 
 Now I have sinned, and now, with no delay, 
 I claim Thy promise and its total power. 
 
 O Saviour bid me “ go and sin no more,” 
 And keep me always “neath the mighty flow 
 Of Thy perpetual fountain ; I implore 
 That Thy perpetual cleansing I may fully know. 
 
250 
 
 LOYAL RESPONSES. 
 
 THE PRECIOUS BLOOD OF JESUS. 
 
 RECIOUS, precious blood of Jesus, 
 Shed on Calvary ; 
 Shed for rebels, shed for sinners, 
 Shed for me. 
 
 Precious blood that hath redeemed us ! 
 All the price is paid ; 
 
 Perfect pardon now is offered, 
 Peace is made. 
 
 Precious, precious blood of Jesus, 
 Let it make thee whole ; 
 
 Let it flow in mighty cleansing 
 O’er thy soul. 
 
 Though thy sins are red like crimson, 
 Deep in scarlet glow, 
 
 Jesus’ precious blood can make them 
 White as snowy 
 
 Now the holiest with boldness 
 We may enter in, 
 
 For the open fountain cleanseth, 
 From all sin. 
 
 Precious blood ! by this we conquer 
 In the fiercest fight, 
 
 Sin and Satan overcoming 
 By its might. 
 
 
 
 
 

 
 I REMEMBER THEE, - 251 
 
 —— —— 
 
 
 
 
 
 Precious, precious blood of Jesus, 
 Ever flowing free ! 
 
 O believe it, O receive it, 
 °T is for thee ! 
 
 Precious blood, whose full atonement 
 Makes us nigh to God ! 
 Precious blood, our song of glory, 
 Praise and laud ! 
 
 L REMEMBER THEE. 
 
 “Thus saith the Lorp, I remember thee, the kindness of thy youth, the love of 
 thine espousals.”’—JER. ii. 2. 
 
 Y Lord,-dost Thou indeed remember me, 
 Just me, the least and last ? 
 
 With all the names of Thy redeemed, 
 
 And all Thy angels, has it seemed 
 As though my name might be perhaps o’erpassed ; 
 Yet here I find Thy word of tenderest grace, 
 True for this moment, perfect for my case,— 
 <¢ Thus saith Jehovah, I remember thee !” 
 
 My Lord, dost Thou remember ¢his of me, 
 The kindness of my youth ?— 
 The tremulous gleams of early days, 
 The first faint thrills of love and praise, 
 
Ra2 LOYAL RESPONSES. 
 
 
 
 Vibrating fitfully ? Not much, in truth, 
 
 Can I bring back at memory’s wondering call ; 
 Yet Thou, my faithful Lord, rememberest all,— 
 ‘Thus saith Jehovah, I remember thee!” 
 
 My Lord, dost: thou remember this of me, 
 My love, so-poor, so cold ! a 
 
 Oh, if I had but loved Thee more ! | 
 Yet Thou hast pardoned. Let me pour 
 
 My life’s best wine for Thee, my heart’s best gold 
 
 (Worthless, yet all I have), for very shame 
 
 That Thou shouldst tell me, calling me by name,— 
 
 ‘Thus saith Jehovah, I remember thee !” 
 
 My Lord, dost Thou remember this of me, 
 The day of Thine own power ? 
 
 The love of mane espousals sweet, 
 
 The laying wholly at Thy feet 
 Of heart and life, in that glad, willing hour ? : 
 That love was Thine—I gave Thee but Thine own, 
 And yet the Voice falls from the emerald throne,— | 
 ‘Thus saith Jehovah, I remember thee ! ” 
 
 My Lord, dost thou remember this of me? 
 Forgetting every fall, 
 Forgetting all the treacherous days, E 
 Forgetting all the wandering ways, | 
 With fullness of forgiveness covering all ; | 
 Casting these memories, a hideous store, 
 Into the crimson sea, for evermore, 
 And only saying, ‘‘I remember thee !” 
 
 i nls Oe i 
 
 
 
i" ; ; ? 
 eed 
 
 KNOWING. 203 
 
 My Lord, art Thou indeed remembering me ? 
 Then let me not forget! 
 
 Oh, be Thy kindness all the way, 
 
 Thy everlasting love to-day, 
 In sweet perpetual remembrance set 
 Before my view, to fill my marveling gaze, 
 And stir my love, and lift my soul to praise, 
 Because ‘Thou sayest, ‘‘ I remember thee !” 
 
 
 
 KNOWING. 
 
 KNOW the crimson stain of sin, 
 Defiling all without, within ; 
 But now rejoicingly I know 
 That He has washed me white as snow. 
 I praise Him for the cleansing tide, 
 Because I know that Jesus died. 
 
 I know the helpless, hopeless plaint, 
 
 «‘'The whole head sick, the whole heart faint ;” 
 But now I trust His touch of grace, 
 
 That meets so perfectly my case, 
 
 So tenderly, so truly deals ; 
 
 Because I know that Jesus heals. 
 
 I know the pang of forfeit breath, 
 When life in sin was life in death ; 
 But now I know His life is mine, 
 And nothing shall that cord untwine ; 
 
} 
 
 254 LOYAL RESPONSES, 
 
 
 
 Rejoicing in the life He gives, 
 Because I know that Jesus lives. 
 
 I know how anxious thought can press, 
 I know the weight of carefulness ; 
 
 But now I know the sweet reward 
 
 Of casting all upon my Lord, 
 
 No longer bearing what he bears, 
 Because I know that Jesus cares. 
 
 I know the sorrow that is known 
 
 To the tear-burdened heart alone ; 
 
 But now I know its full relief | 
 Through Him who was acquaint with grief, 
 And peace through every trial flows, 
 Because I know that Jesus knows. 
 
 I know the gloom amid the mirth, 
 
 The longing for the love of earth ; 
 
 But now I know the love that fills, 
 
 That gladdens, blesses, crowns, and stills ; 
 That nothing mars and nothing moves,— 
 I know, I know that Jesus loves ! 
 
 I know the shrinking and the fear, 
 
 When all seems wrong, and nothing clear ; 
 But now I gaze upon His throne, 
 
 And Faith sees all His foes o’erthrown, 
 And I can wait till He explains, 
 
 Because I know that Jesus reigns. 
 
 
 

 
 TRUSTING JESUS. 255 
 
 
 
 TRUSTING JESUS. 
 
 AM trusting Thee, Lord Jesus, 
 Trusting only Thee ; 
 Trusting Thee for full salvation, 
 Great and free. 
 
 I am trusting Thee for pardon ; 
 At Thy feet I bow, 
 For Thy grace and tender mercy, 
 Trusting now. 
 
 Iam trusting Thee for cleansing 
 In the crimson flood ; 
 Trusting Thee to make me holy 
 By Thy blood. 
 
 I am trusting Thee to guide me; 
 Thou alone shalt lead ! 
 Every day and hour supplying 
 All my need. 
 
 I am trusting Thee for power ; 
 Thine can never fail ! 
 Words which Thou Thyself shalt give me, 
 Must prevail. 
 
 Tam trusting Thee, Lord Jesus : 
 Never let me fall ! 
 I am trusting Thee forever, 
 And for all. 
 
206 
 
 
 
 LOYAL RESPONSES. 
 
 LOOKING UN TOV Fas 
 
 OOKING unto Jesus ! 
 Battle shout of faith, 
 
 Shield o’er all the armor, 
 
 Free from scar or scathe ! 
 Standard of salvation, 
 
 In our hearts unfurled, 
 Let its elevation 
 
 Overcome the world ! 
 
 Look away to Jesus! 
 Look away from all ; 
 Then we need not stumble, 
 Then we shall not fall. 
 From each snare that lureth, 
 Foe or phantom grim, 
 Safety this ensureth : 
 Look away to Him. 
 
 Looking into Jesus ! 
 Wonderingly we trace 
 Heights of power and glory, 
 Depths of love and grace. 
 Vistas far unfolding 
 Ever stretch before, 
 As we gaze, beholding 
 Ever more and more. 
 
 Looking up to Jesus, 
 On the emerald throne ! 
 Faith shall pierce the heavens, 
 Where our Lord is gone. 
 

 
 SHINING. 
 
 Lord, on Thee depending, 
 Now, continually, 
 
 Heart and mind ascending, 
 Let us dwell with Thee. 
 
 SHINING. 
 
 ee you shining for Jesus, dear one ? 
 You have given your heart to Him ; 
 But is the light strong within it, 
 Or is it but pale and dim ? 
 Can everybody see it,— 
 That Jesus is all to you ? 
 That your love to Him is burning 
 With radiance warm and true ? 
 Is the seal upon your forehead, 
 So that it must be known 
 That you are “all for Jesus,”— 
 That your heart is all His own ? 
 
 Are you shining for Jesus, dear one ? 
 You remember the first sweet ray, 
 When the sun arose upon you 
 And brought the gladsome day ; 
 When you heard the gospel message, 
 And Jesus Himself drew near, — 
 And helped you to trust Him simply, 
 And took away your fear ; 
 17 
 
 207% 
 
% 
 
 MT ate 
 
 
 
 LOYAL RESPONSES. 
 
 When the darkness and the shadows 
 Filed like a weary night, — 
 
 And you felt that you could praise Him, 
 And everything seemed bright. 
 
 Are you shining for Jesus, dear one, 
 So that the holy hght 
 May enter the hearts of others, 
 And make them glad and bright ? 
 Have you spoken a word for Jesus ? 
 And told to some around, 
 Who do not care about Him, 
 What a Saviour you have found ? 
 Have you lifted the lamp for others, 
 That has guided your own glad feet ? 
 Have you echoed the loving message, 
 That seemed to you so sweet ? 
 
 Are you shining for Jesus, dear one,—~ 
 Shining for Him all day, 
 Letting the light burn always 
 Along the varied way ? 
 Always,—when those beside you 
 Are walking in the dark ? 
 Always,—when no one is helping, 
 Or heeding your tiny spark ? 
 Not idly letting it flicker 
 In every passing breeze 
 Of pleasure or temptation, 
 Of trouble or of ease ? 
 

 
 SHINING. 
 
 
 
 Are you shining for Jesus, dear one,— 
 Shining just everywhere, 
 Not only in easy places, 
 Not only just here or there ? 
 Shining in happy gatherings, 
 Where all are loved and known ? 
 Shining where all are strangers ? 
 Shining when quite alone ? 
 Shining at home, and making 
 True sunshine all around ? 
 Shining abroad, and faithful— 
 Perhaps among faithless—found ? 
 
 Are you shining for Jesus, dear one, 
 Not for yourself at all ? 
 Not because dear ones, watching, 
 Would grieve if your lamp should fall ? 
 Shining because you are walking 
 In the Sun’s unclouded rays, 
 And you cannot help reflecting 
 The light on which you gaze ? 
 Shining because it shineth 
 So warm and bright above, 
 That you must let out the gladness, 
 And you must show forth the love ? 
 
 Are you shining for Jesus, dear one ? 
 Or is there a little sigh 
 
 That the lamp His love has lighted 
 Does not burn clear and high ? 
 
 ROI 
 
260 
 
 LOYAL RESPONSES. 
 
 Is the heavenly crown that waits you, 
 Still, still withouta star, - 
 Because your light was hidden, 
 And sent no rays afar ? 
 
 Do you feel you have not loved Him 
 With a love right brave and loyal, 
 But have faintly fought and followed 
 
 His banner bright and royal ? 
 
 Oh, come again to Jesus ! 
 Come as you came at first, 
 
 And tell Him all that hinders, 
 And tell Him all the worst ; 
 
 And take His sweet forgiveness 
 As you took it once before, 
 
 And hear His kind voice saying, 
 ‘‘Peace! go, and sin no more !” 
 
 Then ask for grace and courage 
 
 His name to glorify, 
 That never more His precious light 
 Your dimness may deny. 
 
 Then rise, and, ‘‘ watching daily,” 
 Ask Him your lamp to trim 
 With the fresh oil He giveth, 
 That it may not burn dim. 
 Yes, rise and shine for Jesus! 
 Be brave, and bright, and true 
 To the true and loving Saviour, 
 Who gave Himself for you. 
 
 
 
GROWING. 261 
 
 Oh, shine for Jesus, dear one, 
 And henceforth be your way | 
 
 Bright with the light that shineth 
 Unto the perfect day ! 
 
 
 
 GROWING. 
 
 NTO him that hath, Thou givest 
 Ever ‘‘ more abundantly.” 
 Lord, I live because Thou livest, 
 Therefore give more life to me ; 
 Therefore speed me in the race ; 
 Therefore let me grow in grace. 
 
 Deepen all Thy work, O Master, 
 Strengthen every downward root, 
 Only do Thou ripen faster, 
 More and more, Thy pleasant fruit. 
 Purge me, prune me, self abase, 
 
 Only let me grow in grace. 
 
 Jesus, grace for grace outpouring, 
 Show me ever greater things ; 
 Raise me higher, sunward soaring, 
 Mounting as on eagle-wings. 
 
 By the brightness of Thy face, 
 Jesus, let me grow in grace. 
 
 Let me grow by sun and shower, 
 Every moment water me ; 
 
 Make me really hour by hour 
 More and more conformed to Thee, 
 
 
 

 
 262 LOYAL RESPONSES. 
 
 That Thy loving eye may trace, 
 Day by day my growth in grace. 
 
 Let me then be always growing, 
 Never, never standing still ; 
 
 Listening, learning, better knowing 
 Thee and Thy most blessed will. 
 
 Till I reach Thy holy place, 
 
 Daily let me grow in grace. 
 
 
 
 RESTING. 
 
 ‘*his is the rest wherewith ye may cause the weary to rest: and this is the 
 refreshing.’’—Isa. xxviii. 12. 
 ESTING on the faithfulness of Christ our 
 Lord ; 
 Resting on the fulness of His own sure word ; 
 Resting on His power, on His love untold ; 
 Resting on His covenant secured of old. 
 
 Resting ’neath His guiding hand for untracked 
 days ; 
 
 Resting *neath His shadow from the noon-tide 
 rays $ : 
 
 Resting at the eventide beneath His wing, . 
 
 In the fair pavilion of our Saviour King. 
 
 Resting in the fortress while the foe is nigh ; 
 Resting in the lifeboat while the -vaves roll high ; 
 Resting in His chariot for the swift glad race ; 
 Resting, always resting in His boundless grace. 
 
 4 
 j 
 ; 
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 f 
 
 
 

 
 FILLING. 263 
 
 Resting in the pastures, and beneath the Rock ; 
 Resting by the waters where He leads His flock ; 
 Resting, while we listen, at His glorious feet ; 
 Resting in His very arms !—O rest complete ! 
 
 Resting and believing, let us onward press, 
 Resting in Himself, the Lord our Righteousness ; 
 Resting and rejoicing, let His saved ones sing, 
 Glory, glory, glory be to Christ our King! 
 
 FILLING. 
 “Willed with all the fulness of God.’’—Epn. iii. 19. 
 
 OLY Father, Thou hast spoken _ 
 Words beyond our grasp of thought, — 
 Words of grace and power unbroken, 
 With mysterious glory fraught. 
 
 Promise and command combining, 
 Doubts to chase and faith to lift ; 
 Self renouncing, all resigning, 
 We would claim this mighty gift. 
 
 Take us Lord, oh, take us truly, 
 Mind and soul and heart and will; 
 
 Empty us and cleanse us throughly, 
 Then with all Thy fulness fill. 
 
 
 
264 
 
 LOYAL RESPONSES. 
 
 Lord, we ask it, hardly knowing 
 What this wondrous gift may be ; 
 But fulfill to overflowing,— 
 Thy great meaning let us see. 
 
 Make us in thy royal palace 
 Vessels worthy for the king ; 
 From Thy fulness fill our chalice, 
 
 From Thy never-failing spring. 
 
 Father, by this blesséd filling, 
 Dwell Thyself in us, we pray ; 
 We are waiting, Thou art willing, 
 Fill us with Thyself to-day ! 
 
 
 
 INCREASE OUR FAITE 
 ‘Lord, increase our faith.” —LUKE xvii. 5. 
 
 NCREASE our faith belovéd Lord ! 
 For Thou alone canst give 
 The faith that takes Thee at Thy word, 
 The faith by which we live. 
 
 Increase our faith ! So weak are we, 
 That we both may and must 
 
 Commit our very faith to Thee, 
 Entrust to Thee our trust. 
 
 
 
 
 
 cl nN ey 
 

 
 INCREASE OUR FAITH. 
 
 
 
 
 
 Increase our faith ! for there is yet 
 Much land to be possessed ; 
 
 And by no other strength we get 
 Our heritage of rest. 
 
 Increase our faith! On this broad shield 
 “All” fiery darts be caught ; 
 
 We must be victors in the field 
 Where Thou for us hast fought. 
 
 Increase our faith, that we may claim 
 Hach starry promise sure, 
 
 And always triumph in Thy name, 
 And to the end endure, 
 
 Ircrease our faith, O Lord, we pray, 
 That we may not depart 
 
 From Thy commands, but all obey 
 With free and loyal heart. 
 
 Increase our faith—increase it still— 
 From heavenward hour to hour, 
 And in us gloriously “fulfill 
 The work of faith with power.” 
 
 Increase our faith, that never dim 
 Or trembling it may be, 
 
 Crowned with the ‘‘ perfect peace ” of him 
 ‘‘ Whose mind is stayed on Thee.” 
 
 265 
 

 
 
 
 266 LOYAL RESPONSES. 
 
 
 
 Increase our faith, for Thou hast prayed 
 That it should never fail; _ | 
 Our steadfast anchorage is made 
 With Thee, within the veil. 
 
 Increase our faith, that unto Thee 
 More fruit may still abound ; 
 That it may ‘‘ grow exceedingly,” 
 And to Thy praise be found. — 
 
 Increase our faith, O Saviour dear, 
 By Thy sweet sovereign grace, 
 
 Till, changing faith for vision clear, 
 We see Thee face to face ! 
 
 NOBODV KNOWS BUT JESUS. 
 
 ce OBODY knows but Jesus !” 
 ’T is only the old refrain, 
 Of a quaint, pathetic, slave-song, 
 But it comes again and again, 
 
 I only heard it quoted, 
 And IJ do not know the rest 3 
 But the music of the message 
 Was wonderfully blessed. 
 
 
 
rr 
 
 NOBODY KNOWS BUT JESUS. 
 
 
 
 For it fell upon my spirit 
 Like sweetest twilight psalm, 
 
 When the breezy sunset waters 
 Die into starry calm. 
 
 ** Nobody knows but Jesus !” 
 Is it not better so, 
 That no one else but Jesus, 
 My own dear Lord, should know ? 
 
 When the sorrow is a secret, 
 Between my Lord and me, 
 
 I learn the fuller measure 
 Of His quick sympathy. 
 
 Whether it be so heavy, 
 That dear ones could not bear 
 To know the bitter burden 
 They could not come and share 3 
 
 Whether it be so tiny, 
 That others could not see 
 Why it should be a trouble, 
 And seem so real to me ; 
 
 Hither, and both, I lay them 
 Down at my Master’s feet, 
 
 And find them, alone with Jesus, 
 Mysteriously sweet. 
 
 
 
 
 
268 LOYAL RESPONSES, 
 
 Sweet, for they bring me closer 
 To the dearest, truest Friend ; 
 
 Sweet, for He comes the nearer, 
 As ’neath the cross I bend ; 
 
 Sweet, for they are the channels 
 Through which His teachings flow ; 
 Sweet, for by these dark secrets 
 His heart of love I know. 
 
 ‘‘ Nobody knows but Jesus !” 
 It is music for to-day, 
 
 And through the darkest hours 
 It will chime along the way. 
 
 ** Nobody knows but Jesus !” 
 My Lord, I bless Thee now 
 
 For the sacred gift of sorrow 
 That no one knows but Thou. 
 
 AE AS, TE Viet oe 
 
 ESUS, Thy life is mine ! 
 Dwell evermore in me ; 
 And let me see 
 
 That nothing can untwine 
 My life from Thine. 
 
 
 

 
 HE IS THY LIFE. 269 
 
 
 
 Thy life in me be shown ! 
 
 Lord, I would henceforth seek 
 To think and speak 
 
 Thy thoughts, Thy words alone; 
 No more my own. 
 
 Thy love, Thy joy, Thy peace, 
 Continuously impart 
 Unto my heart ; 
 Fresh springs, that never cease 
 But still increase. 
 
 The blest reality 
 
 Of resurrection power, 
 Thy Church’s dower, 
 
 Life more abundantly, 
 Lord, give to me! 
 
 Thy fullest gift, O Lord, 
 
 Now at Thy feet I claim, 
 Through Thy dear name ! 
 
 And touch the rapturous chord 
 Of praise forth poured. 
 
 Jesus, my life is Thine, 
 
 And evermore shall be 
 Hidden in Thee ! 
 
 For nothing can untwine 
 Thy life from mine. 
 
 
 
270 
 
 LOYAL RESPONSES. 
 
 
 
 ENOUGH. 
 
 AM so weak, dear Lord, I cannot stand 
 One moment without Thee! 
 But oh! the tenderness of Thine enfolding, 
 And oh! the faithfulness of Thine upholding, 
 And oh! the strength of Thy right hand ! 
 That strength is enough for me! 
 
 I am so needy, Lord, and yet I know 
 
 All fulness dwells in Thee ; 
 And hour by hour that never-failing treasure 
 Supplies and fills, in overflowing measure, 
 My least, my greatest need ; and so 
 
 Thy grace is enough for me! 
 
 It is so sweet to trust Thy word alone: 
 I do not ask to see 
 The unveiling of Thy purpose, or the shining 
 Of future light on mysteries untwining : 
 Thy promise-roll is all my own,— 
 Thy word is enough for me ! 
 
 The human heart asks love ; but now I know 
 That my heart hath from Thee 
 All real, and full, and marvellous affection, 
 So near, so human; yet divine perfection 
 Thrills gloriously the mighty glow! 
 Thy love is enough for me ! 
 
 
 
 
 
 as - 2 a * 
 rae ee a 
 
 
 

 
 ATG. Av1 
 
 There were strange soul-depths,: restless, vast, and 
 broad, 
 Unfathomed as the sea ; 
 An infinite craying for some infinite stilling ; 
 But now Thy perfect love is perfect filling ! 
 Lord Jesus Christ, my Lord, my God, 
 Thou, Thou art enough for me. 
 
 
 
 ALL, 
 ( OD’S reiterated ‘‘ ALL!” 
 
 O wondrous word of peace and power ! 
 Touching with its tuneful fall 
 The rising of each hidden hour, 
 All the day. 
 
 Only all His word believe, 
 All peace and joy your heart shall fill, 
 All things asked ye shall receive : 
 This is thy Father’s word and will, 
 For to-day. 
 
 ** All I have is thine,” saith He. 
 ‘<All things are yours,” He saith again ; 
 All the promises for thee 
 Are sealed with Jesus Christ’s Amen, 
 For to-day. 
 
 
 
02 
 
 LOYAL RESPONSES. 
 
 
 
 He shall a// your need supply, 
 And He will make all grace abound ; 
 Always all sufficiency 
 In Him for ad/ things shall be found, 
 For to-day. 
 
 All His work He shall fulfill, 
 All the good pleasure of His will, 
 Keeping thee in all thy ways, 
 And with thee always, ‘‘ ail the days,” 
 And to-day ! 
 
 
 
 ONLY, 
 * 
 
 Ce a mortal’s powers, 
 Weak at their fullest strength ; 
 Only a few swift-flashing hours, 
 Short at their fullest length. 
 
 Only a page for the eye, 
 Only a word for the ear, 
 Only a smile, and by and by 
 
 Only a quiet tear. 
 
 Only one heart to give, 
 Only one voice to use ; 
 Only one little life to live, 
 And only one to lose. 
 
 
 

 
 
 
 
 
 MY MASTER, 
 
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 € = 
 ry 0S SSE ES SS ee ie ne i, aA 
 , 
 
 Poor is my best, and small : 
 
 How could I dare divide ? 
 Surely my Lord shall have it all, 
 _ He shall not be denied ! 
 
 All! for far more I owe 
 Than all I have to bring ; 
 All! for my Saviour loves me so ! 
 All!) for I love my King! 
 All! for it is His own, 
 He gave the tiny store ; 
 All! for it must be His alone ; 
 All! for I have no more. 
 
 All! for the last and least 
 He stoopeth to uplift : 
 
 The altar of my great High Priest 
 Shall sanctify my gift. 
 
 
 
 MY MASTER. 
 
 — “Tove my Master; . . . Iwill not go ont free. And he shall serve him 
 forever.” —Ex. xxi. 5, 6. 
 
 I LOVE, I love my Master, 
 I will not go out free, 
 For He is my Redeemer, 
 
 He paid the price for me. 
 18 
 
 
 
av4 
 
 
 
 LOYAL RESPONSES. 
 
 
 
 I would not leave His service, 
 It is so sweet and blest ; 
 
 And in the weariest moments 
 He gives the truest rest. 
 
 I would not halve my service, 
 His only it must be,— 
 
 His only, who so loved me 
 And gave Himself for me. 
 
 My Master shed His life-blood 
 My vassal life to win, 
 
 And save me from the bondage 
 Of tyrant self and sin. 
 
 He chose me for His service, 
 And gave me power to. choose 
 That blessed ‘perfect freedom” — 
 Which I shall never lose : 
 
 For He hath met my longing 
 With word of golden tone, 
 
 That I shall serve forever 
 Himself, Himseif alone. 
 
 ‘¢ Shall serve Him” hour by hour, 
 For He will show me how ; 
 
 My Master is fulfilling 
 His promise even now ! 
 

 
 
 - 
 
 
 
 275 
 
 
 
 PERFECT PEACE. — 
 
 ‘‘Shall serve Him,” and ‘forever ;” 
 
 O hope most sure, most fair ! 
 The perfect love outpouring 
 In perfect service there ! 
 
 Rejoicing and adoring, 
 Henceforth my song shall be: 
 I love, 1 love my Master, 
 I will not go out free ! 
 : 
 
 
 
 PERFECT PEACE. 
 
 IKE ariver glorious 
 Is God’s perfect peace, 
 Over all victorious 
 In its bright increase. 
 Perfect—yet it floweth 
 Fuller every day ; 
 Perfect-—yet it groweth 
 Deeper all the way. 
 Chorus.—Stayed upon Jehovah, 
 Hearts are fully blest, 
 Finding, as He promised, 
 Perfect peace and rest. 
 
 Hidden in the hollow 
 Of His blessed hand, 
 
 Never foe can follow, 
 Never traitor stand. 
 
 | re ee 
 ae 
 
276 
 
 LOYAL RESPONSES. 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Not a surge of worry, 
 Not a shade of care, 
 Not a blast of hurry 
 Touch the spirit there. 
 Chorus.—Stayed upon Jehovah, 
 Hearts are fully blest, 
 Finding, as He promised, 
 Perfect peace and rest. 
 
 Every joy or trial 
 Falleth from above, 
 Traced upon our dial 
 By the Sun of Love. 
 We may trust Him solely 
 All’for us to do; 
 They who trust Him wholly, 
 Find Him wholly true. 
 Chorus.—Stayed upon Jehovah, 
 Hearts are truly blest ; 
 Finding, as He promised, 
 Perfect peace and rest. 
 
 LAM WITH Tis 
 
 Je AM with thee!” He hath said it 
 
 In His truth and tender grace ; 
 
 Sealed the promise, grandly spoken, 
 With how many a mighty token, 
 
 Of His love and faithfulness. 
 

 
 
 
 
 BO Nake ge aimed, 
 
 I AM WITH THEE. 
 
 He is with thee !—In thy dwelling, 
 Shielding thee from fear of ill ; 
 
 All thy burdens kindly bearing, 
 
 For thy dear ones gently caring, 
 Guarding, keeping, blessing still. 
 
 He is with thee !—In thy service 
 He is with thee ‘‘ certainly, ” 
 Filling with the Spirit’s power, 
 Giving in the needing hour 
 His own messages by thee. 
 
 He is with thee !—With thy spirit, 
 With thy lips, or with thy pen ; 
 
 In the quiet preparation, 
 
 In the heart-bowed congregation, 
 Nevermore alone again ! 
 
 He is with thee !—With thee always, 
 All the nights and all the days ; 
 
 Never failing, never frowning, 
 
 With His loving-kindness crowning, 
 Tuning all thy life to praise. 
 
 He is with thee !—Thine own Master, 
 Leading, loving to the end ; 
 Brightening joy and lightening sorrow, 
 All to-day, yet more to-morrow, 
 King and Saviour, Lord and Friend. 
 

 
 278 LOYAL RESPONSES. 
 
 Ile is with thee !—Yes, forever, 
 Now, and through eternity ; 
 Then with Him forever dwelling, 
 Thou shalt share His joys excelling, 
 Thou with Christ, and Christ with thee ! 
 
 
 
 TRUST AND DISTRUST. 
 
 ISTRUST thyself, but trust His grace ; 
 It is enough for thee ! 
 In every trial thou shalt trace 
 Its all-sufficiency. 
 
 Distrust thyself, but trust His strength ; 
 In Him thou shalt be strong : 
 
 His weakest ones may learn at length 
 A daily triumph-song. 
 
 Distrust thyself, but trust His love ; 
 Rest in its changeless glow : 
 
 And life or death shall only prove 
 Its everlasting flow. 
 
 Distrust thyself, but trust alone 
 In Him, for all—forever ! 
 
 And joyously thy heart shall own 
 That Jesus faileth never. 
 

 
 WITHOUT CAREFULNESS. 
 
 WITHOUT CAREF ULNESS. 
 *T would have you without carcfulness.”’—-1 Cor. vii. 32. 
 
 ASTER! how shall I bless Thy name 
 For Thy tender love to me, 
 For the sweet enablings of Thy grace, 
 So sovereign, yet so free, 
 That have taught me to obey Thy word 
 And cast my care on Thee ? 
 
 They tell of weary burdens borne 
 For discipline of life, 
 
 Of long anxieties and doubts, 
 Of struggle and of strife, 
 
 Of a path of dim perplexities 
 With fears and shadows rife. 
 
 Oh, I have trod that weary path 
 With burdens not a few, 
 
 With shadowy faith that Thou wouldst lead 
 And help me safely through, 
 
 Trying to follow and obey, 
 And bear my burdens too. 
 
 Master, dear Master! Thou didst speak, 
 And yet I did not hear, 
 
 Or long ago I might have ceased 
 From every care and fear, 
 
 And gone rejoicing on my way 
 From brightening year to year. 
 
 279 
 

 
 280 LOYAL RESPONSES. 
 
 
 
 Just now and then some steeper slope 
 Would seem so hard to climb, 
 
 That I must cast my load on Thee ; 
 And I left it for a time, 
 
 And wondered at the joy at heart, 
 Like sweetest Christmas chime. 
 
 A step or two on winged feet, 
 And then I turned to share 
 
 The burden Thou hadst taken up 
 Of ever-pressing care ; 
 
 So what I would not leave with Thee 
 Of course I had to bear. 
 
 At last Thy precious precepts fell 
 On opened heart and ear, 
 
 A varied and repeated strain 
 I could not choose but hear, 
 
 Enlinking promise and command, 
 Like harp and clarion clear ; 
 
 ‘* No anxious thought upon thy brow 
 The watching world should see ; 
 No carefulness! O child of God, 
 For nothing careful be ! 
 But cast ‘thou al/ thy care on Him 
 Who always cares for thee.” 
 
 Did not Thy loving Spirit come 
 In gentle, gracious shower, 
 

 
 
 
 WITHOUT CAREFULNESS. 
 
 To work Thy pleasure in my soul 
 
 In that bright, blessed hour, 
 And to the word of strong command 
 Add faith and will and power ? 
 
 It was Thy word, it was Thy will— 
 That was enough for me ! 
 
 Henceforth no care shall dim my trust, 
 For all is cast on Thee ; 
 
 Henceforth my inmost heart shall praise 
 The grace that set me free. 
 
 And now I find Thy promise true, 
 Of perfect peace and rest ; 
 
 I cannot sigh, I can but sing 
 While leaning on Thy breast, 
 
 And leaving everything to Thee, 
 Whose ways are always best. 
 
 I never thought it could be thus,— 
 
 Month after month to know 
 The river of Thy peace without 
 One ripple in its flow ; 
 Without one quiver in the trust, 
 One flicker in its glow. 
 
 Oh, Thou hast done far more for me 
 
 Than I had asked or thought ! 
 I stand and marvel to behold 
 
 What Thou, my Lord, hast wrought, 
 And wonder what glad lessons yet 
 
 I shall be daily taught. 
 
 281 
 

 
 282 LOYAL RESPONSES. 
 
 How shall I praise Thee, Saviour dear, 
 For this new life so sweet, 
 
 For taking all the care I laid 
 At Thy beloved feet, 
 
 Keeping Thy hand upon my heart 
 To still each anxious beat ? 
 
 I want to praise, with life renewed, 
 As I never praised before ; 
 
 With voice and pen, with song and speech, 
 To praise Thee more and more, 
 
 And the gladness and the gratitude 
 Rejoicingly outpour. 
 
 I long to praise Thee more, and yet 
 This is no care to me: 
 
 If Thou shalt fill my mouth with songs, 
 Then I will sing to Thee ; 
 
 And if my silence praise Thee best, 
 Then silent I will be. 
 
 Yet if it be Thy will, dear Lord, 
 Oh, send me forth, to be 
 
 Thy messenger to careful hearts, 
 To bid them taste and see 
 
 How good Thou art to those who cast 
 All, all their care on Thee ! 
 

 
 
 THY REIGN. 283 
 
 Jef eh Ll Gl. 
 
 ‘Righteousness, and peace, and joy, in the Holy Ghost.’’—Rom. xiv. 17. 
 
 rUXHY reign is righteousness ; 
 Not mine, but Thine !— 
 , A covering no less | 
 Than the broad, bright waves of Thy great sea, 
 
 That roll triumphantly 
 
 From line to pole, and pole to line ; 
 
 A reign where every rebel thought 
 In.sweet captivity 
 
 To Thine obedience is brought. 
 
 Thy reign is perfect peace ; 
 Not mine, but Thine !— 
 
 A stream that cannot cease, 
 
 4g For its fountain is Thy heart. O depth unknown! 
 Thou givest of Thine own, 
 
 Pouring from Thine and filling mine. 
 
 The ‘‘noise of war” hath passed away ; 
 God’s peace is on the throne, 
 
 Ruling with undisputed sway. 
 
 Thy reign is joy divine ; 
 Not mine, but Thine, 
 Or else not any joy to me! 
 For a joy that flowed not from Thine own, 
 Since Thou hast reigned alone, 
 Were vacancy or misery. 
 O sunshine of Thy realm, how bright 
 This radiance from Thy throne, 
 Unspeakable in calmest light ! 
 
 
 
284 LOYAL RESPONSES. 
 
 
 
 Thy reign shall still increase ! 
 I claim Thy word,— 
 Let righteousness and peace 
 And joy in the Holy Ghost be found, 
 
 And more and more abound 
 In me, through Thee, O Christ my Lord ; 
 Take unto Thee Thy power, who art 
 
 My Sovereign, many-crowned ! 
 Stablish Thy kingdom in my heart. 
 
 TRIED, PRECIOGg sO 
 
 JEsus Curist.—‘‘ The Same yesterday, and to-day, and forever.’-—HEB. xiii. 8. 
 ‘A stone, a tried stone, a precious corner stone, a sitre founda- 
 tion.”’—Isa. xxviii. 16. 
 HROUGH the yesterday of ages, 
 Jesus, Thou hast been The Same ; 
 Through our own life’s checkered pages 
 Still the one dear changeless name. 
 Well may we in Thee confide, 
 Faithful Saviour, proved and ‘‘ TRIED !” 
 
 Joyfully we stand and witness 
 Thou art still to-day The Same ; 
 In Thy perfect, glorious fitness 
 Meeting every need and claim. 
 Chiefest of ten thousand Thou ! 
 Saviour, O most ‘‘ PRECIOUS,” now ! 
 
 
 

 
 JUST WHEN THOU WILT. 
 
 
 
 Gazing down the far forever, 
 Brighter glows the one sweet Name, 
 teadfast radiance, paling never, 
 Jesus, Jesus! still The Same. 
 Evermore ‘‘ Thou shalt endure,” 
 Our own Saviour, strong and ‘‘suRE!” 
 
 me 
 
 
 
 JUST WHEN THOU WILT. 
 
 ae when Thou wilt, O Master, call, 
 Or at the noon, or evening fall, 
 
 Or in the dark, or in the light,— 
 
 Just when Thou wilt, it must be right. 
 
 Just when Thou wilt, O Saviour, come, 
 Take me to dwell in Thy bright home! 
 
 ~ Or when the snows have crowned my head, 
 Or ere it hath one silver thread. 
 
 Just when Thou wilt, O Bridegroom, say 
 «Rise up, my love, and come away !” 
 Open to me Thy golden gate, 
 
 Just when Thou wilt, or soon, or late. 
 
 Just when Thou wilt—Thy time is best— 
 Thou shalt appoint my hour of rest, 
 Marked by the Sun of perfect love 
 
 Shining unchangingly above. 
 
 Just when Thou wilt !—no choice for me ! 
 Life is a gift to use for Thee ; 
 
 Death is a hushed and glorious tryst, 
 
 With Thee, my King, my Saviour, Christ ! 
 
 285 
 

 
 AN INTERLUDE. 
 
 HAT part is finished ! I lay down my pen, 
 And wonder if the thoughts will flow as fast 
 Through the more difficult defile. For the last 
 Was easy, and the channel deeper then. 
 My Master, I will trust Thee for the rest ; 
 Give me just what Thou wilt, and that will be my best ; 
 
 How can J tell the varied, hidden need 
 Of Thy dear children, all unknown to me, 
 Who at some future time may come and read 
 What I have written ? All are known to Thee. 
 As Thou hast helped me, help me to the end ; 
 Give me Thy own sweet messages of love to send. 
 
 So now, I pray Thee, keep my hand in Thine, 
 And guide it as Thou wilt I do not ask 
 To understand the ‘‘ wherefore ” of each line ; 
 Mine is the sweeter, easier, happier task : 
 Just to look up to Thee for every word, 
 Rest in Thy love, and trust, and know that I am heard. 
 
 September 11, 1877. 
 

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 “UNDER HIS SHADOW.” 
 
 THE THOUGHTS OF GOD. 
 
 qe thoughts, O God! O theme Divine! 
 Except Thy Spirit in my darkness shine, 
 And make it light, 
 And overshadow me 
 With stilling might, 
 And touch my lips that I may speak of Thee,— 
 How shall I soar 
 
 To thoughts of Thy thoughts? and how dare to write 
 
 Of Thine ? 
 
 Thou understandest mine 
 
 Far off and long before. 
 287 
 
288 ‘“*UNDER HIS SHADCW.” 
 
 Thou searchest, knowest, compassest ! Thy hand is laid 
 Upon me. Whither shall I flee 
 From Omnipresence and Omniscience ? If I fly 
 To heaven, Thou art there also! IfI take 
 The wings of morning, and my dwelling make 
 In the uttermost parts of the great sea, 
 Even there Thy hand shall lead me, Thy right hand 
 Shall hold me. If I say 
 Surely the night 
 Shall cover me, it shall be light 
 About me. Yea, the shade 
 Of darkness hideth not from Thee, 
 Night shineth as the day: 
 The darkness and the light are both alike to Thee. 
 Thee I will praise: for lam fearfully 
 And wonderfully made. 
 
 My substance was not hid from Thee 
 When I was made in secret, curiously wrought 
 And yet imperfect. ‘Then 
 Thine eyes did see me. In Thy book 
 Were all my members written, when 
 Not one of them was into being brought. 
 Such knowledge is too wonderful for me, 
 Too excellent, too high. Yet ’tis but one 
 Keen ray of Thy great sun 
 Touching an atom in a dusty nook ! 
 
 One ray ! while others traverse depths profound 
 Of possible chaos; and illume 
 The boundless bound 
 
 
 

 
 THE THOUGHTS OF GOD. 289 
 
 
 
 
 
 Of space ; and vivify worlds all unguessed, 
 To whom 
 Our farthest eastern spark, 
 Caught by the mightiest telescope that ever pierced the 
 dark, 
 Is farthest west. 
 
 One ray! while others overflow 
 ‘The countless hosts of angels with celestial blaze ; 
 With still diviner glow, 
 Flooding each heart with adoration sweet ; 
 And yet too glorious for the gaze 
 Of seraphim, who cover face and feet 
 With burning wings, 
 While through the universe their ‘‘ Holy, 
 Holy,” rings. 
 
 Only oneray! Yet doth it come 
 So close to us, so very near, 
 Our inmost selves enfolding, 
 Discerning, penetrating,—-we, beholding 
 Its terrible brightness, well might fear, 
 But for the glow 
 Of known and trusted Love that pulseth warm below. 
 And so 
 The psalm ariseth, strong and clear, 
 ‘* How precious are Thy thoughts to me, O God! 
 How great their sum !” 
 Uncounted, marvellous, and very deep and broad, 
 Unsearchable and high ! 
 19 
 

 
 290 ‘SUNDER HIS SHADOW.” 
 
 
 
 
 
 Infinity 
 Of holiest, mightiest mystery, 
 That never sight 
 Or tongue of mortal seer 
 Could see or tell, 
 That never flight 
 Of flame-like spirits that ia strength excel 
 Hath reached! The very faith that brings us near 
 Reveals new distances, new depths of hght 
 Unfathomed, —seas of suns that never eye 
 Created hath beheld, or ever can behold! 
 
 What know we of God’s thoughts? One word of 
 gold 
 A volume doth enfold. 
 They are—‘‘ not ours!” 
 Ours ? what are they ? their value and their powers ? 
 So evanescent, that while thousands fleet 
 Across the busy brain, 
 Only a few remain 
 To set their seal on memory’s strange consistence. 
 Of these, some worthless, some a life-regret, 
 That we wouid fain forget ; 
 And very few are rich and great and sweet ; 
 And fewer still are lasting gain, 
 And these most often born of pain, 
 Or sprung from strong concussion into strong existence. 
 
 What else? Even in their proudest strength so weak, 
 So isolated and so rootless, 
 So flowerless and so fruitless ;— 
 

 
 We think, and dare not do,—we think, and cannot 
 
 THE THOUGHTS OF GOD. 291 
 
 
 
 
 
 speak ! 
 A thought alone is less than breath, 
 Only the shudder of a living death. 
 A thing of scorn, 
 A formless embryo in chaos born. 
 It must be seized with resolute grasp of will, 
 With swiftness and with skill, 
 And molded on life’s anvil, ere it glow 
 With any fire or force ; 
 And wrought with many a blow, 
 And welded in the heat by toiling strength 
 With many another, ere it goat length 
 The humblest mission to fulfill. 
 And then its tiny might 
 Is not inherent, but alone dependent 
 Upon the primal source 
 And spring of power, First, Sole, Supreme, Transcen- 
 dent ! 
 
 What else ? So circumscribed in flight ! 
 Like bats in sunshine, striking helpless wings 
 Against the shining things, 
 That to their dazzled sight 
 Appear not ; hindered everywhere 
 By unseen obstacles with puzzling pain. 
 Or like the traveler, toiling long to gain 
 An Alpine summit, white and fair, 
 With far-extending view ; but still withheld, 
 And to the downward track with fainting step compelled 
 By an intangible barrier ; for the air 
 Is all too rare, 
 

 
 292 ‘SUNDER HIS SHADOW.” 
 
 Too keenly pure 
 For valley-dweller to endure. 
 For thus our thoughts rebound 
 From the Invisible-Infinite, on every side 
 Hemmed ever round 
 ’ By the Impassable, that never mortal pinion 
 Hath over-soared, that mocks at human pride, 
 Imprisoned in its own supposed dominion. 
 
 a 
 
 What else ? So mingled, so impure ; 
 So interwoven with the threads of sin, 
 Visible or invisible as the sight 
 Is purged to see them in God’s light ; 
 So subtle in their changeful forms, now dark, now 
 bright ; 
 Such mystery of iniquity within, 
 That we must loathe our very thoughts, but for the cure 
 He hath devised,—the blessed Tree 
 The Lord hath shown us, that, cast in, can heal 
 The fountain whence the bitter waters flow. 
 Divinest remedy 
 Whose power we feel, 
 Whose grace we comprehend not, but we know. 
 
 What else ? So fallible, so fuli of errors, — 
 No certainty ! In aught unproved and new, 
 Treading volcanic soil o’er smothered terrors ; 
 Spectral misgivings rising to the view, 
 As each step crushes through 
 Some older crust of truth assumed. And this is all 
 That human thoughts can do, 
 Leaning on human strength and reason solely ; 
 

 
 THE THOUGHTS OF GOD. 293 
 
 
 
 —- ea 
 
 : Now wrong, now right, now false, now true, 
 As may befall! 
 And even the truest never reaching wholly 
 Truth Absolute! 
 That still our touch eludes, 
 And vanishes in deeper depths when man intrudes 
 Within her awful solitudes. 
 Where many a string is mute 
 And many ja-wanting, all the rest 
 Imperfectly attuned at best,— 
 We can but wait for truth of tone, 
 For truth of modulation and expression, 
 With lowliest confession 
 Of utter powerlessness, content 
 To trust His thoughts and not our own, — 
 Until the Maker of the instrument 
 Shall tune it in another sphere, 
 By His own perfect hand and ear. 
 
 Now turn we from the darkness to the light, 
 From dissonance to pure and full accord ! 
 ‘‘My thoughts are not as your thoughts, saith the 
 Lord, 
 Nor are your ways as My ways. As the height 
 Of heaven above the earth, so are My ways, 
 My thoughts, to yours ;—out of your sight, 
 Above your praise.” 
 O oracle most grand ! 
 Thus teaching by sublimest negative 
 What by a positive we could not understand, 
 Or, understanding, live ! 
 
294 “SUNDER HIS SHADOW.” 
 
 
 
 
 
 And now, search fearlessly 
 The imperfections and obscurity, 
 he weakness and impurity, 
 Of all our thoughts. On each discovery 
 Write, “Nor as ours!” Then, in every line 
 Behold God’s glory shine 
 In humbling yet sweet contrast, as we view 
 His thoughts, Eternal, Strong, and Holy, Infinite, and 
 True. 
 
 
 
 And now, what have we of these thoughts of God, 
 So high, so deep, so broad ? 
 What hath He given, and what are we receiving ? 
 A revelation 
 Dim, pale, and cold 
 Beside their hidden fire, yet gorgeously enscrolled 
 Upon His wide Creation. 
 He would not all withhold, 
 His children in the silent darkness leaving ; 
 Nor would He overwhelm our heart 
 And strike it dumb ; 
 And so He hath enfolded some 
 In fair expressions for the eye and ear ; 
 Though faint yet clear ; 
 Such as our powers may apprehend in part. 
 Thus hath He wrought 
 The dazzling swiftness of the thought 
 That veiled itself from mortal ken in lght. 
 And thus the myriad-handed might 
 Of that from which the million-teeming ocean fell, 
 

 
 THE THOUGHTS OF GOD. 295 
 
 
 
 No greater toil to Him, 
 From silent depth to surfy rim, 
 Than the small crystal drop which fills a rosy shell. 
 And thus the Infinite Ideal 
 Of perfect Beauty (only real 
 In Him and through Him, pure conception 
 Too exquisite for our perception) 
 He hath translated ; giving us such lines 
 As we can trace 
 In mountain grandeur and in lily grace, 
 In sunset, cloudland, or soul-molded face ; 
 Such alphabets and signs 
 As we, His little ones, may slowly, softly read, 
 Supplying thus a deep, true-spirit need. 
 
 What know we more? One thought He hath expressed 
 In that great scheme 
 Of which we, straining, catch a glimpse or gleam 
 In light or shadow,—scheme embracing all, 
 Star-system cycles and the sparrow’s fall,— 
 Scheme all-combining, wisest, grandest, best. 
 We call it Providence. And each may deem 
 Himself a tiny centre of that thought ; 
 For how mysteriously enwrought 
 Are all our moments in its folds of might, 
 Our own horizon ever bounding 
 And yet not limiting, but still surrounding 
 Our lives, while reaching far beyond our quickest sight. 
 A thought of consummated harmony ! 
 Hach life is one note in that symphony, 
 Without which were its cadence incomplete : 
 

 
 296 ‘SUNDER HIS SHADOW.” 
 
 
 
 
 
 Yet each note complex, formed of many a reed ; 
 And each reed quivering with vibrations passing count, 
 And each vibration blending 
 In mystic trinities ascending 
 Through weird harmonies that recede 
 Into the unknown silences, or meet 
 In clashing thrills unanalyzed, and mount 
 In tangled music, yet all plain and clear ~ 
 Unto the Master’s ear. 
 O thought of consummated melody 
 And perfect rhythm ! though its mighty beat 
 Transcend angelic faculty, 
 And though its mighty bars 
 May be the fall of worlds, the birth of stars, 
 Its measure—all eternity— 
 One echo, calm and sweet, 
 Our clue to this great music of God’s plan, 
 Sounds on in ever-varying repeat— 
 Glory to God on high, peace and goodwill to man ! 
 
 What have we more? Scan we the blinding blaze 
 Of the refulgent rays 
 Outpouréd from the Very Fount of Light ? 
 One thought of God in undiluted splendor, 
 Flashed on our feeble gaze, 
 Were never borne by mortal sight. 
 He knew it, and He gave, 
 In mercy tender, 
 All that the soul unwittingly doth crave, 
 All that it can receive. He robed 
 

 
 THE THOUGHTS OF GOD. 297 
 
 
 
 In finite words the sparkles of His thought, 
 , The starry fire englobed 
 In tiny spheres of language, shielding, softening thus 
 The living, burning glory. And He brought 
 Even to us 
 » This strange celestial treasure that no prayer 
 Had asked of Him, no ear had heard, 
 Nor heart of man conceived. He laid it there, 
 Even at our feet, and said it was His Word. 
 O mystery of tender grace ! 
 ‘We find 
 God’s thoughts in human words enshrined, 
 God’s very life and love with ours entwined. 
 All wonderingly from page to page we pass, 
 Owning the darkening yet revealing glass ; 
 In every line we trace, 
 In fair display, 
 Prismatic atoms of the glorious bow 
 Projected on the darkest cloud that e’er 
 O’ergloomed the world that God had made so fair, 
 The rainbow of His covenant ; each one 
 Reflecting perfectly a sevenfold ray, 
 Shot from the sun 
 Of His exceeding love, 
 Strong and serene above, 
 Upon a tremulous drop of tearful life below. 
 
 One thought, His thought of thoughts, awakes our song 
 Of endless thanks and marvelling adoration 
 More than aught else. For Providence, Creation, 
 All He hath made and all He doth prepare, 
 

 
 298 ‘SUNDER HIS SHADOW.” 
 
 Thoughts grand and wise and strong, 
 ‘Thoughts tender and most fair, 
 Are pale beside the glory of Salvation, 
 Redemption’s gracious plan and glorious revelation :— 
 The focus where all rays unite ; 
 Kach attribute arrayed in sevenfold light, 
 Hach adding splendor to the rest. 
 The meeting blest, 
 Of His great love and foreseen human woe 
 Struck forth a mighty fire, that sent a glow 
 Throughout the universe,—an overflow 
 To the dim confines that none know 
 Save He who traced them, —lit up gloriously 
 The farthest vistas of Eternity ; 
 And, flooding heaven itself with radiance new, 
 Revealed the heart of God, all-merciful, all-true. 
 
 ——————_—_— 
 
 Thus are the thoughts of God made known to men, 
 Yet is all revelation bounded 
 First by its vehicle, and then 
 By its reception. Unseen things 
 Remain unfathomed and unsounded, 
 And hidden as the springs 
 Of an immeasurable sea, 
 Because His thought, sublime and great, 
 No language finds commensurate 
 With its infinity ; 
 And, when compressed in any finite mold, 
 "Tis but a fraction that the mind of man 
 Receiveth. For we hold 
 
THE THOUGHTS OF GOD. 299 
 
 But what we span, 
 We only see 
 What feeble lenses and weak sight may scan. 
 And thus a double lessening, double veiling 
 Of the unimagined glory of a thought of Him 
 Who dwells between the cherubim ! 
 First, suffering and paling 
 By its necessitate transition 
 From Infinite to Finite, for that all expression 
 Is by its nature finite ; then the vision 
 _ Which angels might receive straightway, 
 Unshorn of any ray, 
 And hold in full possession, 
 _ Must enter by the portal 
 Of faculties sin-paralyzed and mortal ; 
 And in the human breast’s low-vaulted gloom 
 It finds no room 
 For any high display. 
 
 This is no guess-work. It is even so 
 - With our poor thoughts. For they are always more 
 Than any form or language can convey. 
 We know 
 Things that we cannot say ; 
 We soar, 
 Where we could never map our flight. 
 We see 
 Flashes and colorings too quick and bright 
 For any hand to paint. We meet 
 Depths that no line can sound. We hear 
 Strange far-off mental music, all tco sweet, 
 
 
 
300 ‘SUNDER HIS SHADOW.” 
 
 
 
 Too great for any earthly instrument,— 
 Gone, if we strive to bring it near. 
 For who that knows 
 The sudden surging and the startling throes 
 Of subterranean soul-fires with no vent, 
 That seek an Etna all in vain ;— 
 Or the slow forming of some grand, fair thought, 
 With exquisite lingering outwrought, 
 Only to melt before the touch of effort or of pain 
 (Like quivering rose-fire “neath a filmy veil 
 In mountain dawn, 
 That grows all still and pale 
 When the transparent silver is withdrawn) :— 
 Oh! who that knows brt owns the meagre dower 
 Of poor weak language married to thought’s royal power— 
 Oh! who that knows but needs must own 
 If it be thus 
 Even with us, 
 Groping and tottering alone 
 Around the footstool of His throne, 
 With limited ideas and babe-like powers, 
 What must it be with Him, whose thoughts are not as 
 ours ! 
 And now 
 We only bow, 
 And gaze above 
 In raptured awe and silent love ; 
 For mortal speech 
 Can never reach 
 A word of meetly-molded praise 
 For one glimpse of the blessed rays, 
 
 
 
 a a 
 
THE THOUGHTS OF GOD. 301 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 c Ineffable and purely bright, 
 Outflowing ever from the Unapproachéd Light. 
 
 They say there is a hollow, safe and still, 
 A point of coolness and repose 
 Within the centre of a flame, where life might dwell 
 Unharmed and unconsumed, as in a luminous shell ; 
 Which tne bright walls of fire inclose 
 In breachless splendor, barrier that no foes 
 Could pass at will. 
 
 There is a point of rest 
 At the great centre of the cyclone’s force, 
 A silence at its secret source ;— 
 A little child might slumber undistressed, 
 Without the ruffle of one fairy curl, 
 In that strange central calm amid the mighty whirl. 
 
 So, in the centre of these thoughts of God, 
 Cyclones of power, consuming glory-fire, — 
 As we fall overawed 
 Upon our faces, and are lifted higher 
 By His great gentleness, and carried nigher 
 Than unredeeméd angels, till we stand 
 Even in the hollow of His hand— 
 Nay, more! we lean upon His breast— 
 There, there we find a point of perfect rest 
 And glorious safety. There we see 
 His thoughts to usward, thoughts of peace 
 

 
 302 ‘UNDER HIS SHADOW.” 
 
 
 
 That stoop in tenderest love; that still increase 
 With increase of our need; that never change ; 
 That never fail, or falter, or forget. 
 O pity infinite ! 
 O royal mercy free ! 
 O gentle climax of the depth and height 
 Of God’s most precious thoughts, most wonderful, most 
 strange ! 
 “‘Wor I am poor and needy, yet 
 The Lord Himself, Jehovah, thinketh upon me!” 
 
 
 
 ZEN IL Ta. 
 
 L. 
 
 E watched the gradual rising of a star, 
 Whose delicate, clear light outshone the crowd, 
 Gleaming between the rifts of parting cloud, 
 Brighter above each dusky veiling bar ; 
 The fairy child, the glimpse of girlish face, 
 Rising to woman’s dower of fairest, fullest grace. 
 
 And still she rose, and still she calmly shone, 
 Walking in brightness ever brightening still, 
 Gladdening, attracting at her queenly will, 
 
 With starlike influence. The years wore on, — 
 
 And Isabel, the star, the pearl, the flower, 
 Could not but know her gift, the secret of her power. 
 
ZENITH. 305 
 
 
 
 
 
 ‘* Neyer so lovely as to-night,” they said, 
 Again and yet again! ‘There came a night 
 3 When many owned afresh the royal might 
 | Of beauty, as she came with snowfall tread, 
 And summer smile, and simple maiden dress, 
 Crowned only with the light and her own loveliness. 
 
 And the next day she was a little tired, 
 And the next night the rose had somewhat paled ; 
 The fair pearl glistened, yet it somewhat failed 
 Of the past gleam, the radiance all-admired. 
 From the soft emerald of the wind-waved grass, 
 How soon the diamond sparkle of the dew must pass ! 
 
 And the next week the sunbeams vainly sought 
 An entrance where their merry rival lay 
 | Feyered and weary ; while, from day to day, 
 | The quick pulse wasted what short slumber brought 
 Of slow renewing. So the dark mist fell, 
 And hid the starry fire that all had loved so weil. 
 
 Again she shone, when from that dark mist freed, 
 But with that singular radiance never more ; 
 The brightening upward path so quickly o’er, 
 
 The solemn westward curve begun indeed ! 
 
 The unconscious zenith of her lovely light 
 Forever left behind on that gay triumph-night ! 
 
 ine 
 Yo! for the Alps! The weary plains of France, 
 And the night shadows, leaving far behind, — 
 For pearl horizons with pure summits lined,— 
 On through the Jura-gorge, in swift advance 
 
S04 ‘SUNDER HIS SHADOW.” ’ 
 
 
 
 Speeds Arthur, with keen hope and buoyant glee,— 
 On to the mountain land, home of the strong and free ! 
 
 On ! to the morning flush of gold and rose ; 
 On ! to the torrent and the hoary pine ; 
 On ! to the stillness of life’s utmost line ; 
 On! to the crimson fire of sunset snows. 
 Short starlit rest, then with the dawn’s first streak, 
 On! to the silent crown of some lone icy peak ! 
 
 *T was no nerve-straining effort, then, for him 
 To emulate the chamois-hunter’s leap 
 Across the wide rock-chasm, or the deep 
 And darkly blue crevasse with treacherous rim ; 
 Or climb the sharp aréte, or slope of snow, 
 With Titan towers above, and cloud-filled gulfs below. 
 
 It was no weariness or toil to count 
 Hour after hour in that weird white realm, 
 With guide of Alp-renown to touch the helm 
 Of practiced instinct, rocky spires to mount, 
 Or track the steepest glacier’s fissured length, 
 In the abounding joy of his unconquered strength. 
 
 But it was gladness none can realize 
 Who have not felt the wild Excelsior thrill, 
 The strange exhilarate energies, that fill 
 The bounding pulses, as the intenser skies 
 Embrace the infinite whiteness, clear and fair, 
 Inhaling vigorous life with that quick crystal air. 
 
 
 

 
 ZENITH. 
 
 That Alpine witchery still onward lures 
 Upward, still upward, till the fatal list 
 Grows longer of the early mourned and missed ; 
 Leading where surest foot no more insures 
 The life that is not ours to throw away 
 For the exciting joys of one brief summer day. 
 
 For there are sudden dangers none foreknow ; 
 The scarlet-threaded rope can never mock 
 The sound-loosed avalanche, frost-cloven rock, 
 
 Or whirling storm of paralyzing snow. 
 
 But Arthur’s foot was kept ; no deathward slips 
 
 Darkened the zenith of his strength with dire eclipse. 
 
 So year by year, as his rich manhood filled, 
 He reveled in health-giving mountain feats ; 
 Spurning the trodden tracks and curious streets, 
 As fit for old men, and for boys unskilled 
 In Alpine arts, not strong nor bold enough 
 To battle with the blast and scale the granite bluff. 
 
 One glowing August sun went forth in might, 
 And smote with rosy sword each snowy brow,— 
 Bright accolade of grandeur! Now, oh now, 
 
 Amid that dazzling wealth of purest light, 
 
 His long ambition should be crowned at last, 
 And every former goal rejoicingly o’erpast ! 
 
 For ere the white fields softened in the glow, 
 He stood upon a long-wooed virgin peak, 
 One of the few fair prizes left to seek ; 
 
 Each rival pinnacle left far below ! 
 
 20 
 

 
 306 “UNDER HIS SHADOW.” 
 
 He stood in triumph on the conquered height, 
 And yet a shadow fell upon his first delight ! 
 
 For well he knew that he had surely done 
 His utmost ; and that never summer day 
 Could oe a moment on its radiant way, 
 Like the first freshness of that conquest won, 
 Where all had lost before. A sudden tear 
 Veiled all the glorious view, so grand, so calm, so clear ! 
 
 fi Gi 
 
 An hour of song! of musical delight 
 To those whose quick, instructed ear could trace, 
 Through complex harmonies, the artistic grace, 
 The finest shades of meaning, and the might 
 Of order and of law. Nor less to those 
 Who loved it as we love the fragrance of the rose. 
 
 And Cecil stood, with all the added ease 
 Of ripe experience and of sure success ; 
 With all her glad instinctive consciousness 
 Of natural gift that could not fail to please ; 
 With all her rich maturity of tone, 
 Like sun-glow of the South on purple clusters thrown. 
 
 She sang, rejoicing in her song,—each bar 
 A separate pulse of pleasure. Were there none 
 To listen and applaud, or only one, 
 
 As freely she had poured it. Fora star 
 
 Shines not cause we watch it | Only blaze 
 
 Of artificial light reserves its measured rays. 
 

 
 ZENITH. 
 
 Yet who, that ever tasted, does not know 
 The witchery of any phase of power, 
 Ascendency unsought, magnetic dower 
 Of influence ? And Cecil found it so, 
 And though but vaguely conscious of her might, 
 Lived in her own strong spell, a glamour of delight. 
 
 Nor only joy of power and joy of song 
 To fill the singer’s chalice were combined ; 
 But sympathetic influences of mind, 
 Acting, re-acting, as the charméd throng 
 Followed the wave of her swift magic wand, 
 Yet lured her ever on to fair heights still beyond. 
 
 And so the song passed to its dying fall, 
 As the electric interchanges crossed. 
 What marvel that the closing chord was lost 
 In rush of quick applause and fond recall ! 
 And Cecil rose once more, and poured again, 
 
 307 
 
 From fuller gushing fount, the doubly welcomed strain. 
 
 Higher and higher rose the glorious song ; 
 Deeper and deeper grew the silence round ; 
 All unrestrained the free, full notes resound, 
 In splendid carol-gladness ; holding long 
 Unwearied listeners in chains unseen, 
 As willing captives led by their victorious queen. 
 
 Tribute of wondering smile was freely paid ; 
 
 And then, as subtle modulation wrought 
 
 Soft shadows in the sunny strain, some brought 
 The deeper homage of a tear, and, swayed 
 
308 ““UNDER HIS SHADOW.” 
 
 
 
 
 
 Beyond confession, strove in vain to hide 
 The unconquerable rush of sweet emotion’s tide. 
 
 Then once again the clear tones rose and swelled, 
 While flashed the singer’s eyes with inward fire ; 
 And still the spirit of the song soared higher, 
 
 Until the closing cadence, as she held 
 
 All hearts entranced, till like a sunset lay 
 The last, long, sweet note thrilled, and softly died away. 
 
 And all was over! Ah, she had not guessed 
 That she had touched the zenith of her song, 
 That gradual declining, slow and long, 
 Must mark the path now trending to the west ! 
 No boundary line is seen, and yet we cross 
 In one veiled hour, from gain, to sure though lingering 
 
 loss. & 
 
 She often sang again. But oftener fell 
 Apologies of unaffected truth. 
 There was more effort, yet less power, in sooth ! 
 The ringing tones less like a golden bell. 
 ‘“ Not quite in voice of late. Ill do my best ; 
 Do not expect too much ;—I think my voice needs rest.” 
 
 So, one by one, the songs no more were seen 
 That called for grandest tone and clearest trill. 
 And when she sang, though old friends loved it still, 
 The stranger wondered what the spell had been. 
 And then they spoke of how she used to sing ! 
 Passing or passed away is every earthly thing. 
 
 
 
 ¢ 
 EE 
 
tae 
 ’ * 
 - A ” 
 o 7 
 
 hae 
 ea 
 
 ZENITH. 309 
 
 
 
 LV. 
 
 A silent house beneath a dome of stars ; 
 A deeply shaded lamp, a lonely room ; 
 A fire whose fitful whispers through the gloom 
 In rhythmic cadence leapt athwart the bars ; 
 A broad, worn desk ; a broad, worn, bending brow ; 
 Yet a bright eye beneath, full of strange brightness now. 
 
 A rapid hand, that wrote swift words of flame, 
 Far-glowing words to kindle other fires ; 
 _ Words that might flash along Time’s mystic wires. 
 And thrill the ages with a deathless name : 
 Barbed words, that fasten where they fall, and stay 
 Deep in the souls of men, and never pass away. 
 
 Little recked Theodore of fame that night, 
 And less of gold. The current was too strong 
 For such vain barques to launch. It swept along, 
 Whither he hardly knew ; the impulse bright 
 Passing at every turn some opening view, 
 Some echoing mountain height, some vista fair and new. 
 
 Lost memories trooped in amid. the crowd 
 Of happiest images: ethereal forms 
 Of weirdly prescient fancy, spectral swarms, 
 Before him in oppressive beauty bowed, 
 ! And beckoned him, with gleaming hands, to grasp 
 Their fleeting loveliness in firm and joyous clasp. 
 

 
 310 _** UNDER HIS SHADOW.” 
 
 And inward music rose, and. wreathed around 
 Each thought that shaped itself to outline clear ; 
 The royal chimes rang on, more sweet, more near, 
 With every gust. He caught the silver sound, 
 And east its fairy mantle o’er the flow 
 Of his melodious lines, in all their fiery glow. 
 
 ee ae eS ee 
 
 Such times are but the crystallizing hours 
 That make the rainbow-bearing prism. ‘They change 
 Long-seething soul-solutions into strange 
 And startling forms ;—-new properties and powers 
 And beauties hardly dreamt, yet latent there, 
 The poet-touch evokes, strong, marvellous, and fair. 
 
 For there are long, slow overtures before 
 - Such bursts of song; much tension unconfessed, 
 Much training and much tuning,—years compressed, 
 Concentrated in ever-filling store : 
 Till thoughts that surged in secret deep below, 
 Rise from voleanic fount mm sudden overflow. 
 
 Much living to short writing ! such the law 
 Of living poems that have force to reach 
 Depths that are sounded by no surface speech, 
 And thence the sympathetic waters draw, 
 With golden chain of many a fire-forged link, 
 Gently, yet mightily, up to the pearly brink. 
 
 —_—_—— 
 
 Was it the stillness of the lonely night 
 That set his spirit free, with wizard hand, 
 Opening the gates of more than fairy-land ? 
 Oft had he known the pulse of poet-might, 
 
 a 
 

 
 ZENITH. | DLL 
 
 
 
 But never quite the free, exultant power, 
 In which he reveled now through that enchanted hour. 
 
 Was it not rather that the harvest-time, 
 After the sowing and the watering long, 
 Was fully come; the golden sheaves of song 
 Falling in fullness, and that royal chime 
 Pealing the harvest-home of wealth unseen, 
 Where the remaining years might only come and glean ? 
 
 At length the last page lay beneath the light, 
 From wavering erasure free, and wrought 
 Too perfectly for any after-thought. 
 He rose, threw up the sash, and on the night,— 
 The brilliant, solemn night,—looked forth and sighed, 
 And felt the immediate ebb of that unwonted tide. 
 
 For it was over! and the work was done 
 For which his life was lived ! unconscious yet ! 
 The blossom fell because the fruit was set ; 
 The standard furled because the field was won. 
 And, with the energy, the gladness passed, 
 And left him wearied out and sorrowful at last. 
 
 For only work that is for God alone 
 Hath an unceasing guerdon of delight, 
 A guerdon unaffected by the sight 
 Of great success, nor by its loss o’erthrown. 
 All else is vanity bencath the sun : 
 There may be joy in doing, but it palls when done. 
 
312 “UNDER HIS SHADOW.” 
 
 Vv. 
 
 Once more. A battle-field of mental might, 
 A broad arena for the utmost skill 
 Of world-famed gladiators, echoing still 
 With praise or cruel blame, beyond the sight 
 Of each day’s keen spectators, to the verge 
 Of widest continents and ocean’s farthest surge. 
 
 A great arena, whence the issues flow 
 Not only through an empire, but a world, 
 Molding the centuries ; wherein are hurled 
 Thunders whose ultimate havoc none can know, 
 Striking not names but nations :—such the scene 
 Of conflict and renown, long entered by Eugene. 
 
 Many a time his weighty sword he threw 
 Into the scale of victory, and swayed 
 The critical turns, the great events that made 
 The era’s history. For well he knew 
 Each subtle art of eloquence, combined 
 With rarest gifts of speech, and native powers of mind. 
 
 His patriotism earned a noble meed 
 Of trust and honor, more than any fame, 
 And sweeter. Yet some thought his hard-won 
 claim | 
 Not meetly recognized. Perchance indeed 
 The shadow crossed his own thought, as he found 
 Less kingly orators with heavier laurels crowned. 
 
 
 

 
 ZENITH. 313 
 
 At length a contest of long doubtful end 
 Drew to a climax : and his soul was stirred, 
 And every generous faculty was spurred 
 To utmost energy. Jor he could spend 
 His very self upon the cause that seemed 
 Clear justice and clear right ! or rather, so he deemed ! 
 
 For there are few who care to analyze 
 The mingled motives, in their complex force, 
 Of some apparently quite simple course. 
 One disentangled ‘skein might well surprise. 
 Perhaps a “single heart” is never known, 
 Save in the yielded life that lives for God alone, — 
 
 And that is therefore doubted, as a dream, 
 By those who know not the tremendous power 
 Of all-constraining love! So in that hour 
 / Of fierce excitement, ’mid the flashing gleam 
 Of measured glaive, I will not dare to say 
 That Eugene’s purest zeal no party claim might sway. 
 
 Still, all combined to bid the eagle soar 
 Beyond the common clouds, the shifting mists 
 Of every-day debate, the very lists 
 Of strong opponents strengthening him the more. 
 As the strong pinion finds the opposing breeze 
 The very means of rising over land and seas.* 
 
 So Eugene rose in his full manly strength, 
 Reining at first the fiery courser in, 
 That with calm concentration he might win 
 The captious ear ;—reserve of power at length, 
 
 ~ 
 
 
 
 * See Duke of Argyle’s ‘ Reign of Law.” 
 
 por 
 
314 ‘SUNDER HIS SHADOW.” 
 
 At the right moment from the wise curb freed, 
 Triumphantly burst forth with grand impetuous speed. 
 
 And as the great speech mounted to a pause 
 Some foes were silenced, some were wholly gained, 
 And all were spellbound, stilled, and marvel-chained, 
 And, more than all the clatter of applause, 
 The cause was won! ‘‘ Kugene was at his best 
 To-night!” So much they knew! They did not know 
 the rest ! 
 
 For they who watched with envy or delight 
 The moment of his zenith, little knew 
 It was the moment of his setting too ; 
 For fell paralysis drew near that night. 
 Never again Eugene might proudly stand, 
 And sway the men who swayed the sceptre of his land. 
 
 VI. 
 
 A simple Christmas-Day at home! And yet 
 It was the very zenith of two stars 
 That rose together through the cloudy bars, 
 In bright perpetual conjunction met, 
 A day whose memory should never cease,— 
 A Coronation-day of Love and Joy and Peace. 
 
 The culmination of two lives that passed 
 Through many a chance and change of checkered 
 years, 
 Each shining for the other, hopes and fears 
 Centred within their home! And now at last 
 They gazed upon a clear, calm sky around, 
 And rested in their love, that day serenely crowned. 
 
; a re T™® Mek ge 1 pg a are 
 
 
 
 
 
 ZENITH. Su 
 
 Or 
 
 Bernard and Constance had no wish beyond 
 Each other’s giadness, and the fuller good 
 Of those belovéd ones who blithely stood 
 Around the Christmas fire,—the fair and fond, 
 The strong and merry, sons and daughters grown 
 In closest unity,—rich treasures all their own. 
 
 Bright arrows of full quiver ! still unshot 
 By ruthless bow of Time and scattered wide, 
 
 Still in the sweet home-bundle tightly tied, 
 Though feathered for the flight from that safe spot. 
 Flight when ? and whither? Ah me! who might say 
 
 What should befall before another Christmas-Day ! 
 
 Closer they clustered in the twilight-fall, 
 And talked of pleasant memories of the year, 
 And then of pleasant prospects far and near ; 
 Each name responding at each gleeful call. 
 The merry mention of a dear name there 
 Had never yet been hushed by any empty chair. 
 
 But most of all the gladness and the pride 
 Circled around the eldest brother’s name ; 
 His first success, his rising college fame, 
 Made merriest music at that warm fireside ; 
 And in the parent-hearts deep echoes thrilled, 
 As the repeated chord proclaimed fond hopes fulfilled. 
 
 No dim presentiment of sorrow fell 
 Upon that zenith hour of happiness, 
 Perhaps the brightest that could ever bless 
 A merely earthly lot ; the purest well 
 

 
 316 ‘UNDER HIS SHADOW.” 
 
 Of natura! joy, unselfish, undefiled, 
 Up-springing to the day, while heaven above it smiled. 
 
 And so the evening hours sped swiftly by, 
 And Christmas carols closed the happy time, 
 And Christmas-bells, in sweet wind-wafted chime, 
 Stole softly through the shutters. Not a sigh 
 With music of the gay good-night was blent, 
 No discord in that full, harmonious content. 
 
 What then ? Bernard and Constance wakeful lay 
 A long, long while, unwilling each to tell 
 That, as the midnight tolled, it seemed the knell 
 Of the great gladness of that Christmas Day. 
 “Oh, what if it should prove too bright to last, 
 Clear shining that precedes the wild and rainy blast !” 
 
 And they were right. It could not come again ! 
 Sickness, and scattering, and varied woe, 
 Yet nothing but the lot of most below, 
 Soon marred the music of that perfect strain, 
 And though the westering path had many a gleam, 
 ‘That zenith joy was but an oft-remembered dream. 
 
 VII. 
 
 A soft spring twilight. Cherry blossoms white 
 Whispered about the summer they were told 
 Was coming, when the beech trees would unfold 
 Their horny buds, and chestnuts would be dight 
 In great green leaves. ‘‘ What will become of us?” 
 They wondered. And they shivered as they questioned 
 thus. 
 
 
 
mi 
 
 
 
 ZENITA. bey 
 
 
 
 For the east wind came by, with curfew bell 
 Upon his wings, and touched them stealthily, 
 Shriveling the tender leaves. And silently 
 
 In their sweet white array the blossoms fell. 
 
 Ah for the zenith of the cherry tree ! 
 Yet zs it past, although the snowy glories be ? 
 
 Wait for the shining of the summer day ; 
 Wait for the crimson glow amid the green ; 
 Wait for the wealth of ruby ripeness, seen 
 After the fitful spring has passed away. 
 Wait till the Master comes, with His own hand 
 To find His pleasant fruit in clusters rich and grand. 
 
 Yes, soft spring twilight! And a bowing head ; 
 A kneeling form amid the shadows gray ; 
 A heart from which the hopes had passed away, 
 That made life exquisite as the blossoms shed 
 Around that open window ;—and a throb 
 Of dull gray pain, that rose, and forced one low deep 
 sob. 
 
 Only the zenith of his youth had passed, 
 And scarcely that. Yet perhaps the saddest time 
 _Is while the echo of the matin chime 
 Has hardly died away in silence vast : 
 Sadder to realize the noonday height, 
 Than the slow-gathering shades of long impending night. 
 
 It did not seem that there could ever be 
 
 Another zenith, different, and bright 
 
 With grander hopes, and far more glorious light 
 Than all the spells of siren minstrelsy, 2 
 
318 “UNDER HIS SHADOW.” 
 
 
 
 And all the love and gladness that entwined 
 The merry paths of youth forever left behind. 
 
 For Godfrey had no special powers to spur 
 To emulation in the great world-race, 
 No special gifts or aims ;—the open space 
 A possible joy had filled--the dream of her 
 Who might have been and yet was not to be 
 
 Queen of his life! and now—the dark-draped throne was 
 
 free ! 
 
 Free! Yet another claimed that empty throne, 
 And in the twilight He was drawing near, 
 ’*Mid all those shadows of dim grief, and fear, 
 And sense of vanity. The King unknown, 
 Unrecognized as yet, was come to reign, 
 And yet to crown the life that owned its life was vain. 
 
 And while the spring airs trembled through the trees, 
 The gracious Wind that bloweth where it lists 
 Dispersed the fallacies, the world-breathed mists 
 
 That hid unseen realities. That breeze 
 
 Unveiled the mysteries of hidden sin, 
 And let the all-searching Light flash startlingly aly 
 
 Then the vague weariness was roused indeed 
 And passed away forever, as he saw 
 The nearer lightnings of the holy law 
 
 Through suddenly deepening darkness; then the need, 
 
 More of a Saviour than mere safety, dawned 
 In lurid daybreak, as he glimpsed the gulf that yawned 
 
 
 
 eee 
 

 
 ZENITH. 319 
 
 Close at his feet—those careless feet that trod 
 So merrily a harmless-seeming course 
 Of merely useless pleasure, by the force 
 
 Of custom, and yet never came to God, 
 
 _ Never yet stepped upon the Living Way, 
 That only leads to life and everlasting day. 
 
 Again that holy Breeze swept by in might, 
 And fanned each faint desire to stronger flame ; 
 He said, ‘“‘ Oh, bid me come to Thee!” He came, 
 Just as he was, that memorable night ; 
 And lo! the King, who waited at the door, 
 Entered to save, to reign, and to go out no more. 
 
 And then he saw those awful lightnings fall 
 Through the cleft heavens upon a lonely Tree 
 That stood upon a mount called Calvary. 
 
 And knew that stroke had spent the fiery ball : 
 
 And then the earthquake closed the gulf below, 
 While he stood all unscathed, safe from the overthrow. 
 
 “Stood,” said 1? Nay! in wonder and in love 
 As on that more than vision Godfrey gazed, 
 He fell at his Deliverer’s feet, and praised 
 With a new sweetness, sweet as harps above, 
 The Glorious One, whose royal grace had saved 
 The aimless wanderer, who never grace had craved, 
 
 Far in the night this wondrous watch he kept 
 With the unslumbering Shepherd, while a joy, 
 The first he ever knew without alloy, 
 
 Filled all his soul with light. At last he slept, 
 
 > 
 
320 ‘SUNDER HIS SHADOW.” 
 
 Wrapped in this strange new peace, whose steady beam 
 Made all his past life seem a sinful, troubled dream. 
 
 What then ? It was no zenith, though the star 
 Of life shone out at radiant height, that dimmed 
 Kach previous gleam to gloom that barely rimmed 
 The shifting clouds, with something, that, from far, 
 Might have been fancied light, yet only made 
 The darkness more discerned, the spirit more afraid. 
 
 Rather it was the rising ! the first hour 
 Of the true shining, that should rise and rise 
 From glory unto glory, through God’s skies, 
 In strengthening brightness and increasing power, 
 A rising with no setting, for its height 
 Could only culminate in God’s eternal light. 
 
 The feeble glimmer of the former days, 
 The hope, the love, the very glee that paled 
 Just at their seeming zenith, and then failed 
 Of fuller sparkling,—all the scattered rays 
 Were caught up and transfigured in the blaze 
 Of thenew life of love, and energy, and praise. 
 
 The joy of loyal service to the King 
 Shone through them all, and lit up other lives 
 With the new fire of faith, that ever strives, 
 Like a swift-kindling beacon, far to fling 
 The tidings of His victory, and claim 
 New subjects for His realm, new honor for His Name. 
 
 
 
 
 
ZENITH. 321 
 
 
 
 And so the years flowed on, and only cast 
 Light, and more light upon the shining way, 
 That more and more shone to the perfect day ; 
 Always intenser, clearer than the pas ; 
 Because they only bore him, on glad wing, 
 Nearer the Light of Light, the Presence of the King. 
 
 Who recks the short recession of a wave 
 In the strong flowing of a tide? And so 
 Without a pang could Godfrey leave below 
 Successive earthly zeniths, while he gave 
 A glad glance upward to the rainbow Throne, 
 And joyously pressed on to nobler heights alone. 
 
 4 Or if awhile a looming sorrow-cloud 
 ; He entered, still he found the Glory there, 
 Shechinah-brightness resting still and fair 
 Within the holy curtains, as he bowed 
 Before the Presence on the Mercy-seat ; 
 Then forth he came with sound of golden bells most 
 sweet. 
 
 And then the music floated on the wind, 
 A constant carol of glad tidings told, 
 Of how the lives the One Life doth enfold 
 Are ever with that Life so closely twined, 
 That nought can separate, below, above, 
 And life itself is one long miracle of love. 
 
 ah eA awe 
 
 At last the gentle tone was heard, that falls 
 In all-mysterious sweetness on the ear 
 That long has listened, longing, without fear, 
 Because so well it knows the Voice that calls ; 
 21 
 
322 ‘UNDER HIS SHADOW.” 
 
 Though only once that solemn call is heard, 
 While angel-songs take up the echoes of the word. 
 
 ‘‘Friend, go up higher!” So he took that night 
 The one grand step, beyond the stars of God, 
 Into the splendor, shadowless and broad, 
 
 Into the everlasting joy and light. 
 
 The zenith of the earthly life was come : 
 What marvel that the lips were for the moment dumb ! 
 
 What then ? Eye hath not seen, ear hath not heard ! 
 Wait till thou too hast fought the noble strife, 
 And won, through Jesus Christ, the crown of life! 
 Then shalt thou know the glory of the word, 
 Then as the stars forever—ever shine, 
 Beneath the King’s own smile,—perpetual Zenith thine. 
 
 September 11th, 1877. 
 
 
 
 THE MINISTRY OF INTERCESSION. 
 
 HERE is no holy service 
 But hath its secret bliss ; 
 
 Yet, of all blesséd ministries, 
 
 Is one so dear as this ? 
 The ministry that cannot be 
 
 A wandering seraph’s dower, 
 Enduing mortal weakness 
 
 With more than angel-power ; 
 
 
 
 
 

 
 THE MINISTRY OF INTERCESSION. 
 
 The ministry of purest love 
 Uncrossed by any fear, 
 That bids us meet at the Master’s feet, 
 And keeps us very near. 
 
 God’s ministers are many 
 For this His gracious will, 
 Remembrancers that day and night 
 This holy office fill. 
 While some are hushed in slumber, 
 Some to fresh service wake, 
 And thus the saintly number 
 No change or chance can break. 
 And thus the sacred courses 
 Are evermore fulfilled ; 
 The tide of grace by time or place 
 Is never stayed or stilled. 
 
 Oh, if our ears were opened 
 To hear as angels do 
 The Intercession-chorus 
 Arising full and true, 
 We should hear it soft up-welling 
 In morning’s pearly light ; 
 Through evening’s shadows swelling 
 In grandly gathering might ; 
 The sultry silence filling 
 Of noontide’s thunderous glow ; 
 And the solemn starlight thrilling 
 With ever-deepening flow. 
 
 323 
 
B24 
 
 “UNDER HIS SHADOW.” 
 
 We should hear it through the rushing 
 Of the city’s restless roar, 
 
 And trace its gentle gushing 
 O’er ocean’s crystal floor : 
 
 We should hear it far up-floating 
 Beneath the Orient moon, 
 
 And catch the golden noting 
 From the busy Western noon ; 
 
 And pine-robed heights would echo 
 As the mystic chant up-floats, 
 
 And the sunny plain resound again 
 
 With the myriad-mingling notes. 
 
 Who are the blesséd ministers 
 Of this world-gathering band ? 
 All who have learnt one language, 
 Through each far-parted land ; 
 All who have learnt the story 
 Of Jesu’s love and grace, 
 And are longing for His glory 
 To shine in every face. 
 All who have known the Father 
 In Jesus Christ our Lord, 
 And know the might and love the light 
 Of the Spirit in the Word. 
 
 Yet there are some who see not 
 Their calling high and grand, 
 
 Who seldom pass the portals, 
 And never boldly stand 
 
 
 

 
 THE MINISTRY OF INTERCESSION. 32d 
 
 
 
 Before the golden altar 
 
 On the crimson-stainéd floor, 
 Who wait afar and falter, 
 
 And dare not hope for more. 
 Will ye not join the biesséd ranks 
 
 In their beautiful array ? 
 
 Let intercession blend with thanks 
 
 As ye minister to-day ! 
 
 There are little ones among them, 
 Child-ministers of prayer ; 
 
 White robes of intercession 
 Those tiny servants wear. 
 
 First for the near and dear ones 
 Is that fair ministry, 
 
 Then for the poor black children, 
 So far beyond the sea. 
 
 The busy hands are folded, 
 As the little heart uplifts 
 
 In simple love to God above, 
 
 Its prayer for all good gifts. 
 
 There are hands too often weary 
 With the business of the day, 
 With God-intrusted duties, 
 Who are toiling while they pray. 
 They bear the golden vials, 
 And the golden harps of praise, 
 Through all the daily trials, 
 Through all the dusty ways. 
 
326 “UNDER HIS SHADOW.” 
 
 
 
 These hands, so tired, so faithful, 
 With odors sweet are filled, 
 And in the ministry of prayer 
 Are wonderfully skilled. 
 
 There are ministers unlettered, 
 Not of Earth’s great and wise, 
 
 Yet mighty and unfettered 
 Their eagle-prayers arise. 
 
 Free of the heavenly storehouse ! 
 For they hold the master-key 
 
 That opens all the fullness 
 Of God’s great treasury. 
 
 They bring the needs of others, 
 And all things are their own, 
 
 For their one grand claim is Jesu’s name 
 
 Before their Father’s throne. 
 
 There are noble Christian workers, 
 The men of faith and power, 
 The overcoming wrestlers 
 Of many a midnight hour ; 
 Prevailing princes with their God, 
 Who will not be denied, 
 Who bring down showers of blessing 
 To swell the rising tide. 
 The Prince of Darkness quaileth 
 At their triumphant way, 
 Their fervent prayer availeth 
 To sap his subtle sway. 
 
 
 

 
 THE MINISTRY OF INTERCESSION. B27 
 
 
 
 But in this temple service 
 Are sealed and set apart 
 Arch-priests of intercession, 
 Of undivided heart. 
 The fullness of anointing 
 On these is doubly shed ; 
 The consecration of their God 
 Is on each low-bowed head. 
 They bear the, golden vials 
 With white and trembling hand 3 
 In quiet room or wakeful gloom 
 These ministers must stand, — 
 
 To the Intercession- Priesthood 
 Mysteriously ordained, 
 
 When the strange dark gift of suffering 
 This added gift hath gained. 
 
 For the holy hands uplifted 
 In suffering’s longest hour 
 
 Are truly Spirit-gifted 
 With intercession-power. 
 
 The Lord of Blessing fills them 
 With His nncounted gold : 
 
 An unseen store still more and more 
 
 Those trembling hands shall hold. 
 
 Not always with rejoicing 
 This ministry is wrought, 
 
 For many a sigh is mingled 
 With the sweet odors brought. 
 
328 
 
 “SUNDER HIS SHADOW.” 
 
 
 
 Yet every tear bedewing 
 The faith-fed altar fire 
 
 May be its bright renewing 
 To purer flame, and higher, 
 
 But when the oil of gladness 
 God graciously outpours, 
 
 The heavenward blaze with blended praise 
 
 More mightily upsoars. 
 
 So the incense-cloud ascendeth 
 As through calm, crystal air, 
 A pillar reaching unto heaven 
 Of wreathéd faith and prayer. 
 For evermore the Angel 
 Of Intercession stands 
 In His.Divine High Priesthood, 
 With fragrance-filléd hands, 
 To wave the golden censer 
 Before His Father’s throne, 
 With Spirit-fire intenser, 
 And incense all His own. 
 
 And evermore the Father 
 Sends radiantly down 
 All-marvellous responses, 
 His ministers to crown 5 
 The incense cloud returning 
 As golden blessing-showers, 
 We in each drop discerning 
 Some feeble prayer of ours, 
 
 
 

 
 “FREE TO SERVE.” 829 
 
 
 
 Transmuted into wealth unpriced, 
 By Him who giveth thus 
 The glory all to Jesus Christ, 
 The gladness all to us! 
 September, 1877. 
 
 
 
 ONLY FOR JESUS. 
 
 NLY for Jesus! Lord, keep it forever 
 Sealed on the heart and engraved on the life ! 
 Pulse of al] gladness and nerve of endeavor, 
 Secret of rest, and the strength of our strife. 
 
 
 
 Pen LO "SERVE 
 
 HE chose His service. For the Lord of Love 
 Had chosen her, and paid the awful price 
 
 For her redemption ; and had sought her out, 
 And set her free, and clothed her gloriously, 
 And put His royal ring upon her hand, 
 And crowns of loving-kindness on her head. 
 She chose it. Yet it seemed she could not yield 
 The fuller measure other lives could bring ; 
 For He had given her a precious gift, 
 A treasure and a charge to prize and keep, 
 A tiny hand, a darling hand, that traced 
 On her heart’s tablet words of golden love. 
 

 
 BEI ‘SUNDER HIS SHADOW.” 
 
 
 
 And there was not much room for other lines, 
 
 For time and thought were spent (and rightly spent, 
 For He had given the charge), ae hours and days” 
 Were concentrated on the one dear task. 
 
 But He had need of her. Not one new gem 
 
 But many for His crown ; not one fair sheaf, 
 But many, she should bring. And she should have 
 A richer, happier harvest-home at last, 
 
 Because more fruit, more glory, and more praise 
 Her life should yield to Him. And so He came, 
 The Master came Himself, and gently took 
 
 The little hand in His, and gave it room 
 
 Among the angel-harpers. Jesus came 
 
 And laid His own hand on the quivering heart, 
 And made it very still, that He might write 
 Invisible words of power—‘‘ Free to serve !” 
 Then through the darkness and the chill He sent 
 A heat-ray of His love, developing 
 
 The mystic writing, till it glowed and shone 
 
 And lit up all her life with radiance new,— 
 
 The happy service of a yielded heart. 
 
 With comfort that He never ceased to give 
 (Because her need could never cease) she filled 
 The empty chalices of other lives, 
 
 And time and thought were thenceforth spent for Him 
 Who loved her with His everlasting love. 
 
 Let Him write what He will upon our hearts 
 With His unerring pen. They are His own. 
 
 
 

 
 _ © PREE TO SERVE.” 331 
 
 
 
 Hewn from the rock by His selecting grace, 
 Prepared for His own glory. Let Him write! 
 Be sure He will not cross out one sweet word 
 But to inscribe a sweeter,-—but to grave 
 
 One that shall shine forever to His praise, 
 And thus fulfill our deepest heart-desire. 
 
 The tearful eye at first may read the line 
 
 ‘* Bondage to grief!” but He shall wipe away 
 The tears, and clear the vision, till it read 
 
 In ever-brightening letters ‘‘ Free to serve !” 
 For whom the Son makes free is free indeed. 
 
 Nor only by reclaiming His good gifts, 
 
 But by withholding, doth the Master write 
 
 These words upon the heart. Not always needs 
 Hrasure of some blessed line of love 
 
 For this more blest inscription. Where He finds 
 
 A tablet empty for the ‘lines left out,” 
 
 That ‘‘ might have been” engraved with human love 
 And sweetest human cares, yet never bore 
 
 That poetry of life, His own dear hand 
 
 Writes ‘‘ Free to serve!” And these clear characters 
 Fill with fair colors all the unclaimed space, 
 
 Else gray and colorless. Then let it be 
 
 The motto of our lives until we stand 
 
 In the great freedom of Eternity, 
 
 Where we ‘‘shaii serve Him” while we see His face, 
 Forever and forever ‘‘ Free to serve.” 
 
“UNDER HIS SHADOW.” 
 
 THE VOICE OF MANY WATERS. 
 
 | Bigs away I heard it, 
 
 Stealing through the pines, 
 Like a whisper saintly, 
 Falling dimly, faintly, | 
 
 Through the terraced vines. 
 
 Freshening breezes bore it 
 Down the mountain slope ; 
 
 So I turned and listened, 
 
 While the sunlight glistened 
 On the snowy cope. 
 
 Far away and dreamy 
 Was the voice I heard ; 
 Yet it pierced and.found me, 
 Through the voices round me— 
 Song without a word. 
 
 All the life and turmoil, 
 All the busy cheer, 
 
 Melted in the flowing 
 
 Of that murmur, growing, 
 Claiming all my ear. 
 
 What the mountain message 
 I could never tell ; 
 
 Such Aolian fluting 
 
 Hath no language suiting 
 What we write and spell. 
 
 
 

 
 THE VOICE OF MANY WATERS. 
 
 Rather did it enter 
 Where no words can win, 
 Touching and unsealing 
 Springs of hidden feeling 
 Slumbering deep within. 
 
 Voice of many waters 
 Only heard afar ! 
 
 Hushing, luring slowly, 
 
 With an influence holy, 
 Like the Orisnt star. 
 
 Following where it leadeth, 
 Till we stand below, 
 
 While the noble thunder 
 
 Wins the hush of wonder, 
 Silent in its glow. 
 
 Light and sound triumphant 
 Fill the eye and ear, 
 
 Every pulse is beating 
 
 Quick, unconscious greeting 
 To the vision near. 
 
 Rainbow flames are wreathing 
 In the dazzling foam, 
 
 Fancy far transcending, 
 
 Power and beauty blending 
 In their radiant home. 
 
 333 
 

 
 334 ‘‘UNDER HIS SHADOW.” 
 
 
 
 All the dreamy longing 
 Passes out of sight, 
 
 In a swift surrender 
 
 To the joyous splendor 
 Of this song of might. 
 
 Self is lost and hidden 
 As it peals along ; 
 _ Fevered introspection, 
 Paler-browed reflection, 
 Vanish in the song. 
 
 For the spirit, hfted 
 From the dulling mists, 
 
 Takes a stronger molding, 
 
 As the sound, enfolding, 
 Bears it where it lists. 
 
 Voice of many waters ! 
 Must we turn away 
 
 From the crystal chorus 
 
 Now resounding o’er us 
 Through the flashing spray ? 
 
 Far away we hear it, 
 Floating from the sky ; _ 
 Mystic echo, falling 
 Through the stars, and calling 
 From the thrones on high. 
 
 
 
THE VOICE OF MANY WATERS. 30D 
 
 
 
 There are voices round us, 
 Busy, quick, and loud ; 
 All day iong we hear them, 
 We are still so near them, 
 
 Still among the crowd ; 
 
 Yet amid the clamor 
 Falls it faint and sweet, 
 
 Like the softest harp-tone 
 
 Passing every sharp tone 
 Down the noisy street. 
 
 To the soul-recesses 
 Cleaving then its way, 
 
 Waking hidden yearning, 
 
 Unwilled impulse turning 
 To the Far-away. 
 
 Far away and viewless, 
 Yet not all unknown— 
 
 In the murmur tracing 
 Soft notes interlacing 
 
 With familiar ‘tone. 
 
 So we start and listen 
 While the murmur low 
 Falleth ever clearer, 
 Swelleth ever nearer 
 In melodious flow. 
 
336 
 
 ‘UNDER HIS SHADOW.” 
 
 Voice of many waters 
 From the heights above ! 
 
 Hushing, luring slowly 
 
 With its influence holy, 
 With its song of love. 
 
 Following where it leadeth, 
 Pilgrim feet shall stand, 
 
 Where the holy millions 
 
 Throng the fair pavilions 
 In the Glorious Land. 
 
 Where the sevenfold ‘‘ Worthy ” 
 Hails the King of kings, 
 Blent with golden clashing 
 Of the crowns, and flashing 
 Of cherubic wings ; 
 
 Rolls the Amen chorus, 
 Old, yet ever new ; 
 
 Seal of blest allegiance, 
 
 Pledge of bright obedience, 
 Seal that God is true. 
 
 Through the solemn glory 
 Alleluias rise, 
 Mightiest exultation, 
 Holiest adoration, 
 Infinite surprise. 
 
 
 

 
 ‘© AFTERWARDS.” 3 
 
 There immortal powers 
 Meet immortal song : 
 Heavenly image bearing, 
 
 Angel-essence sharing, 
 Excellent and strong. 
 
 Strong to bear the glory 
 And the veil-less sight, 
 Strong to swell the thunders 
 And to know the wonders 
 Of the home of light. 
 
 Voice of many waters ! 
 Everlasting laud ! 
 Hark ! it rushes nearer, 
 Every moment clearer, 
 From the Throne of God. 
 January 18th, 1878. 
 
 
 
 “AFTERWARDS.” 
 a a 
 
 “TT \HERE is no ‘afterward ’ on earth for me !” 
 Beloved, ’tis not so ! 
 That God’s own ‘‘afterwards” are pledged to thee, 
 Thy life shall show. 
 
 No ‘“‘afterward” indeed of great things wrought 
 By willing hands and feet ; 
 No sheaf is thine, from wider harvests brought, 
 With singing sweet. 
 22 
 
338 
 
 “UNDER HIS SHADOW.” 
 
 Fair flowing years of ease and laughing strength, 
 With cloudless morning skies, 
 
 Sweet life renewed, and active work at length, 
 His love denies. 
 
 But living fruit of righteousness to Him 
 His chastening shall yield, 
 
 And constant ‘‘ afterward,” no longer dim, 
 Shall be revealed. 
 
 Is it no ‘‘ afterward” that in thy heart 
 His love is shed abroad ? 
 
 And that His Spirit breathes, while called apart, 
 The peace of God ? 
 
 That joy in tribulation shall spring forth 
 To greet His visits blessed, 
 
 Whose wisdom wakes the south wind or the north, 
 As He sees best ! 
 
 Shall not lona-suffering in thee be wrought, 
 To mirror back His own ? 
 
 His gentleness shall mellow every thought 
 And look and tone. 
 
 And goodness! In thyself dwells no good thing, 
 Yet from thy glorious Root 
 
 An ‘afterward ” of holiness shall spring— 
 Most precious fruit ! 
 
 The trial of thy faith from hour to hour 
 Shall yield a grand increase ; 
 
 He shall fulfill the work of faith with power 
 That cannot cease. 
 
 
 
SUNDAY NIGHT. 
 
 
 
 And all around shall praise Him as they see 
 The meekness of thy Lord ; 
 
 Thus, even here and now, how blest shail be 
 Thy sure reward ! 
 
 This pleasant fruit it shall be thine to lay 
 At thy Belovéd’s feet, 
 
 The ripening clusters growing day by day 
 More full and sweet. 
 
 If at His gate He keeps thee waiting now 
 Through many a suffering year, 
 
 Watch for His daily ‘‘afterwards,” and thou 
 Shalt find them here : Cae 
 
 Till, as refined gold, in thee shall shine 
 His image no more dim ; 
 
 Then shall the endless ‘‘ afterward ” be thine 
 Of rest with Him. 
 
 SUNDAY NIGHT. 
 
 339 
 
 
 
 EST him, O Father! Thou didst send him forth 
 
 With great and gracious messages of love ; 
 
 But Thy ambassador is weary now, 
 
 Worn with the weight of his high embassy. 
 Now care for him as Thou hast cared for us 
 In sending him ; and cause him to lie down 
 
 In Thy fresh pastures, by Thy streams of peace. 
 
340 ‘UNDER HIS SHADOW.” 
 
 Let Thy left hand be now beneath his head, 
 And Thine upholding right encircle him, 
 And, underneath, the Everlasting arms 
 
 Be felt in full support. So let him rest, 
 Hushed like a little child, without one Gare ; 
 And so give Thy beloved sleep to-night. 
 
 Rest him, dear Master! He hath poured for us 
 The wine of joy, and we have been refreshed. » 
 Now fill Ais chalice, give him sweet new draughts ~ 
 Of life and love, with Thine own hand; be Thou 
 His ministrant to-night ; draw very near 
 In all Thy tenderness and all Thy power. 
 Oh, speak to him! Thou knowest how to speak 
 A word in season to Thy weary ones, 
 And he is weary now. Thou lovest him-- 
 Let Thy disciple lean upon Thy breast, : 
 And, leaning, gain new strength to ‘rise and shine.” 
 
 Rest him, O loving Spirit! Let Thy calm 
 Fall on his soul to-night. O holy Dove, 
 Spread Thy bright wing above him, let him rest 
 Beneath its shadow ; let him know afresh 
 The infinite truth and might of Thy dear name— 
 ‘Our Comforter!” As gentlest touch will stay 
 The strong vibrations of a jarring chord, 
 So lay Thy hand upon his heart, and still 
 Each over-straining throb, each pulsing pain. 
 Then, in the stillness, breathe upon the strings, 
 And let Thy holy music overflow 
 With soothing power his listening, resting soul. 
 
 
 

 
 
 
 COMING TO THE KING. 341 
 
 COMING TO THE KING. 
 2 CHRON. ix. 1-12. 
 
 | CAME from very far away to see 
 4_ The King of Salem, for I had been told 
 Of glory and of wisdom manifold, 
 And condescension infinite and free. 
 How could I rest, when I had heard His fame, 
 In that dark lonely land of death from whence I came ? 
 
 I came (but not like Sheba’s queen), alone! 
 No stately train, no costly gifts to bring ; 
 No friend at court save One, that One the King ! 
 I had requests to spread before His throne, 
 And I had questions none could solve for me, 
 Of import deep, and full of awful mystery. 
 
 I came and communed with that mighty King, 
 And told Him all my heart ; I cannot say 
 In mortal ear what communings were they. 
 But wouldst thou know, go, too, and meckly bring 
 All that is in thy heart, and thou shalt hear 
 His voice of love and power, his answers sweet and clear. 
 
 O happy end of every weary quest ! 
 He told me all I needed, graciously ; 
 Enough for guidance and for victory 
 O’er doubts and fears, enough for quiet rest 5 
 And when some veiled response I could not read, 
 It was not hid from Him,—this was enough indeed. 
 
342 ‘UNDER HIS SHADOW.” 
 
 
 
 His wisdom and His glories passed before 
 My wondering eyes in gradual ‘revelation ; 
 The House that He had built, its strong foundation, 
 Its living stones ; and, brightening more and more, 
 Fair glimpses of that palace far away, 
 Where all His loyal ones shall dwell with Him for aye. 
 
 True the report that reached my far-off land 
 Of all His wisdom and transcendent fame ; 
 Yet I believed not until I came,— 
 Bowed to the dust till raised by royal hand. 
 The half was never told by mortal word ; 
 My King exceeded all the fame that I had heard ! 
 
 Oh, happy are His servants ! happy they 
 Who stand continually before His face, 
 Ready to do His will of wisest grace ! 
 My King ! is mine such blessedness to-day ? 
 For I too hear thy wisdom, line by line, 
 Thy ever-brightening words in holy radiance shine. 
 
 Oh, blessed be the Lord thy God, who set 
 Our King upon His throne ! Divine delight 
 In the Beloved crowning Thee with might, 
 Honor, and majesty supreme ; and yet 
 The strange and God-like secret opening thus,— 
 The kingship of His Christ ordained through love to us! 
 
 What shall I render to my glorious King ? 
 I have but that which I receive from Thee ; 
 And what I give, Thou givest back to me, 
 Transmuted by Thy touch ; each worthless thing 
 
 
 

 
 
 
 REALITY. 343 
 
 Changed to the preciousness of gem or gold, 
 And by Thy blessing multiplied a thousand-fold. 
 
 All my desire Thou grantest, whatsoe’er 
 Iask! Was ever mythic tale or dream 
 So bold as this reality, this stream 
 Of boundless blessings flowing full and free ? 
 Yet more than I have thought or asked of Thee, 
 Out of Thy royal bounty still Thou givest me. 
 
 Now I will turn to mine own land, and tell 
 What I myself have seen and heard of Thee, 
 And give Thine own sweet message, ‘‘Come and 
 Bee)!” 
 And yet in heart and mind forever dwell 
 With Thee, my King of Peace, in loyal rest, 
 Within the fair payilion of Thy presence blest.* 
 
 
 
 REALL LY. 
 
 “PWATHER, WE KNOW THE REALITY oF Jesus Curist.’’—Words used by a 
 workman in prayer, October 14th, 1875. 
 
 ae reality, 
 Lord Jesus Christ, Thou art to me! 
 
 From the spectral mists and driving clouds ; 
 From the shifting shadows and phantom crowds ; 
 
 
 
 *‘* Surely in what place my Lord the Kirg shall be, whether in death or life, 
 even there also will thy servant be.”’—2 Sam, xv. 21. 
 
 ‘* Where I am, there shall also my servant be.”’—John xii. 26. 
 
a44 
 
 “UNDER HIS SHADOW.” 
 
 
 
 From unreal words and unreal lives, 
 Where truth with falsehood feebly strives ; 
 From the passings away, the chance and change, 
 Flickerings, vanishings, swift and strange, 
 
 I turn to my glorious rest on Thee, 
 
 Who art the grand Reality. 
 
 Reality in greatest need, 
 
 Lord Jesus Christ, Thou art indeed ! 
 Is the pilot real, who alone can guide 
 The drifting ship through the midnight tide ? 
 Is the lifeboat real as it nears the wreck, 
 And the saved ones leap from the parting deck ? 
 Is the haven real where the bark may flee 
 From the autumn gales of the wild North Sea? 
 
 Reality indeed art Thou, 
 
 My Pilot, Lifeboat, Haven now. 
 
 Reality, reality, 
 In brightest days art Thou to me ! 
 Thou art the sunshine of my mirth, 
 Thou art the heaven above my earth, 
 The spring of the love of all my heart, 
 And the Fountain of my song Thou art ; 
 For dearer than the dearest now, 
 And better than the best, art Thou, 
 Belovéd Lord, in whom I see 
 Joy-giving, glad Reality. 
 Reality, reality, — 
 Lord Jesus, Thou hast been to me. 
 When I thought the dream of life was past, 
 And ‘‘the Master’s home-call ” come at last ; 
 
 
 
 —_— 
 
 
 
 at 
 
 a ee a a eT ere 
 
REALITY. 345 
 
 When I thought I only had to wait 
 
 A little while at the Golden Gate,— 
 
 Only another day or two, 
 
 Till Thou Thyself shouldst bear me through,— 
 How real 'Thy presence was to me ! 
 How precious Thy Reality ! 
 
 Reality, reality, 
 Lord Jesus Christ, Thou art to me! 
 Thy name is sweeter than songs of old, 
 Thy words are better than ‘‘ most fine gold.” 
 - Thy deeds are greater than hero-glory, 
 Thy life is grander than poet-story ; 
 But Thou, Thyself, for aye the same, 
 Art more than words and life and name ! 
 Thyself ‘Thou hast revealed to me 
 In glorious Reality. 
 
 Reality, reality, 
 Lord Jesus Christ, is crowned in Thee. 
 In Thee is every type fulfilled, 
 In Thee is every yearning stilled 
 For perfect beauty, truth, and love ; 
 For Thou art always far above 
 The grandest glimpse of our ideal ; 
 Yet more and more we know Thee real, 
 And marvel more and more to see 
 Thine infinite Reality. 
 
 Reality, reality 
 Of grace and glory dwells in Thee. 
 How real Thy mercy and Thy might! 
 How real Thy love, how real Thy light 
 

 
 346 “UNDER HIS SHADOW.”’ 
 
 
 
 How real Thy truth and faithfulness ! 
 How real Thy blessing when ‘Thou dost bless ! 
 How real Thy coming to dwell within ! 
 How real the triumphs Thou dost win! 
 Does not the loving and glowing heart 
 Leap up to own how real Thou art ? 
 
 Reality, reality ! | | 
 
 Such let our adoration be ! 
 Father, we bless Thee with heart and voice, 
 For the wondrous grace of Thy sovereign choice, . 
 That patiently, gently, sought us out 
 In the far-off land of death and doubt, 
 That drew us to Christ by the Spirit’s might, 
 That opened our eyes to see the light 
 
 That arose in strange reality, 
 
 From the darkness falling on Ualvary. 
 
 Reality, reality, 
 
 Lord Jesus Christ, Thou art to me! 
 My glorious King, my Lord, my God, 
 Life is too short for half the laud, 
 For half the debt of praise I owe 
 For this blest knowledge, that ‘‘I know 
 The reality of Jesus Christ,” — 
 Unmeasured blessing, gift unpriced ! 
 
 Will I not praise Thee when I see 
 
 In the long noon of eternity, 
 
 Unveiled, Thy “bright Reality” ? 
 
 
 

 
 FAR MORE EXCEEDING. 347 
 
 
 
 
 
 FAR MORE EXCEEDING. 
 2 Cor. iv. 17. 
 
 cis ROM glory unto glory!” Thank God, that even 
 here 
 The starry words are shining out, our heayenward way 
 to cheer ! 
 That e’en among the shadows the conquering brightness 
 glows, | 
 As ever from the nearing Light intenser radiance flows. | 
 
 “‘From glory unto glory!” Shall the grand progression 
 
 fail 
 
 When the darkling glass is shattered as we pass within 
 the veil ? 
 
 Shall the joyous song of ‘‘Onward!” at once forever 
 cease, 
 
 And the swelling music culminate in monotone of peace ? 
 
 Shall the fuller life be sundered, at the portal of its bliss, 
 
 From the principle of growth entwined with every nerve 
 of this ? 
 
 Shall the holy law of progress be hopelessly repealed, 
 
 And the moment of releasing see our sum of glory sealed ? 
 
 The tender touch of moonlight, with an orbit quickly 
 run, 
 
 The luster of the planet, circling slowly round the sun, 
 
 The mighty revolutions of its million-heated: blaze, 
 
 «From glory unto glory ” lead our far-expanding gaze. 
 
348 “UNDER HIS SHADOW.” 
 
 Then onward, ever onward, through the unexplored 
 abyss 
 
 (Dark barrier between the suns of other worlds and this), 
 
 Until the measure-unit mocks the grasp of human 
 thought, | 
 
 And space and time commingle while the clue is feebly 
 sought. 
 
 Till, in that wider ocean, deep calleth unto deep, 
 
 Star glories with attendant worlds, forth-flashing as they 
 sweep 
 
 Around their unseen center, that point of mystic power, 
 
 Jn unimagined cycles, where an age is but an hour. 
 
 Then onward! and yet onward! for the dim revealings 
 show 
 
 That systems unto systems in grand succession grow, 
 
 That what we deemed a volume but one golden verse 
 may be, 
 
 One rhythmic cadence in the flow of God’s great poetry. 
 
 That what we deemed a symphony was one all-thrilling 
 bar, 
 
 Through aisles of His great temple resounding full and 
 far ; 
 
 That what we deemed an ocean was a shallow by the 
 shore ! 
 
 Then onward yet, in eagle flight, through the Infinite 
 we soar 
 
 
 

 
 FAR MORE EXCEEDING. 349 
 
 — 
 
 
 
 **From glory unto glory,” till the Spirit fails; and then 
 
 Illimitable vistas still opening to our ken, 
 
 Mysterious immensities of order and of light 
 
 Stretch far beyond our farthest thought, as thought be- 
 yond our sight. 
 
 But the starting-point in heaven shall be no “glory of 
 the moon,”’ : 
 
 No planet gleam, no stellar fire, no blaze of tropic noon ; 
 
 From “glory that excelleth” all that human heart hath 
 known, 
 
 Our “onward, upward,” shall begin in the presence of 
 the Throne. 
 
 **From glory unto glory ” of loveliness and light, 
 Of music and of rapture, of power and of sight, 
 «From glory unto glory” of knowledge and of love, 
 Shall be the joy of progress awaiting us above. 
 
 ‘«From glory unto glory” that ever lies before, 
 
 Still wondering, adoring, rejoicing more and more, 
 
 Still following where He leadeth, from shining field to 
 field, 
 
 Himself the goal of glory, Revealer and Revealed ! 
 
 ‘¢From glory unto glory” with no limit and no veil, 
 
 With wings that cannot weary and hearts that cannot 
 fail ; 
 
 Within, without, no hindrance, no barrier as we soar ; 
 
 And never interruption to the endless ‘‘ more and more.” 
 
350 “UNDER HIS SHADOW.” 
 
 
 
 For infinite outpourings of Jehovah’s love and grace, 
 And infinite unveilings of the brightness of His face, 
 
 And infinite unfoldings of the splendor of His will, 
 
 ~ Meet the mightiest expansions of the finite spirit still. 
 
 O Saviour, hast Thou ransomed us from death’s unknown 
 abyss, | 
 
 And purchased with 'Thy precious blood such everlasting 
 bliss ? 
 
 Art Thou indeed preparing us, with love exceeding great, 
 
 And preparing all this glory in such “far exceeding 
 weight ” ? 
 
 Then let our hearts be surely fixed where truest joys are 
 
 found, 
 
 And let our burning, loving praise yet more and more 
 abound ; 
 
 And, gazing on the ‘‘things not seen,” eternal in the 
 skies, 
 
 ‘‘From glory unto glory,” O Saviour, let us rise ! 
 
 
 
 “THE SPLENDOR OF GODS WWILE- 
 
 N the freshness of the springtime, 
 In the beauty of the May, 
 When the swift-winged breezes caroled, 
 And the lambs were all at play, 
 And the birds were blithe and busy, 
 Upon her couch she lay, 
 
 
 
‘“*THE SPLENDOR OF GOD’S WILL.” 
 
 
 
 Like a lily bruised and drooping, 
 Before its early flower 
 
 Had fully opened to the sun, 
 Or reached a noontide hour ; 
 
 Broken and yet more fragrant 
 For the heavy-beating shower. 
 
 It was not the first springtime 
 Passed without one glad sight 
 Of a starry primrose growing, 
 Or a brooklet swift and bright, 
 And without one bounding footstep 
 On a field with daisies white. 
 
 It was not the first springtime; 
 And it might not be the last 
 
 In weariness and suffering 
 Thus to be slowly passed ; 
 
 For when the young feet cannot move, 
 
 Months do not travel fast. 
 
 And yet she saw what others 
 Have never sought or seen, 
 
 A splendor more than spring-light 
 On fair trees waving green, 
 
 And more than summer sunshine 
 On Ocean’s silver sheen. 
 
 Her pencil, tracing feebly 
 Words that shall echo still, 
 
B02 
 
 ‘SUNDER HIS SHADOW.” 
 
 
 
 Perchance some unknown mission 
 May joyously fulfill :—- 
 
 ‘‘T think I just begin to see 
 The splendor of God’s will!” 
 
 O words of golden music 
 Caught from the harps on high, 
 Which find a glorious anthem 
 Where we have found a sigh, 
 And peal their grandest praises 
 Just where ours faint and die! 
 
 O words of holy radiance 
 Shining on every tear, 
 
 Till it becomes a rainbow, 
 Reflecting, bright and clear, 
 
 Our Father’s love and glory 
 So wonderful, so dear ! 
 
 O words of sparkling power, 
 Of insight full and deep! 
 
 Shall they not enter other hearts 
 In a grand and gladsome sweep, 
 
 And lift the lives to songs of joy 
 That only droop and weep ? 
 
 For her, God’s will was suffering, 
 Just waiting, lying still ; 
 
 Days passing on in weariness, 
 In shadows deep and chill ; 
 
 And yet she had begun to see 
 The splendor of God’s will ! 
 
 
 

 
 ‘STHE SPLENDOR OF GOD’S WILL. 353 
 
 And oh, it is a splendor, 
 A glow of majesty, 
 
 A mystery of beauty, 
 If we will only see ; 
 
 A very cloud of glory 
 Enfolding you and me. 
 
 A splendor that is ighted 
 At one transcendent flame, 
 
 The wondrous Love, the perfect Love, 
 Our Father’s sweetest name ; 
 
 For His very Name, and Essence, 
 And His will, are all the same. 
 
 A splendor that is shining 
 Upon His children’s way, 
 That guides the willing footsteps 
 That do not want to stray, 
 And leads them ever onward 
 Unto the perfect day. 
 
 A splendor that illumines 
 The abysses of the Past, 
 And marvels of the Future, 
 Sublime and bright and vast ; 
 While o’er our tiny Present 
 A flood of light is cast. 
 
 No twilight falls upon it, 
 No shadow dims its ray, 
 No darkness overcomes it, 
 No night can end its day ; 
 23 
 
‘“CUNDER HIS SHADOW.” 
 
 It hath unending triumph 
 And everlasting sway. 
 
 Blest will of God ! most glorious, 
 The very fount of grace, 
 
 Whence all the goodness floweth 
 That heart can ever trace— 
 
 Temple whose pinnacles are love, 
 And faithfulness its base. — 
 
 Blest will of God ! whose splendor 
 Is dawning on the world, 
 
 On hearts in which Christ’s banner 
 Is manfully unfurled, 
 
 On hearts of childlike meekness, 
 With dew of youth impearled. 
 
 O Spirit of Jehovah, 
 Reveal this glory still! 
 That many an empty chalice 
 Sweet thanks and praise may fill, 
 When, like this ‘little one,” they see 
 “‘The splendor of God’s will ;” 
 
 That faith may win the vision 
 
 . That hers hath early won, 
 
 And gaze upon the splendor, 
 And own the cloudless sun, 
 
 And join the seraph song of love, 
 And sing ‘‘ Thy will be done.” 
 
 
 

 
 THE TWO PATHS. B00 
 
 THE TWO PATHS. 
 
 VIA DOLOROSA AND VIA GIOJOSA. 
 [Suggested by a Picture.] 
 
 Y Master, they have wronged Thee and Thy love ! 
 They only told me I should find the path 
 
 A Via Dolorosa all the way ! 
 Even Thy sweetest singers only sang 
 Of pressing onward through the same sharp thorns, 
 With bleeding footsteps, through the chill dark mist, 
 Following and struggling till they reach the light, 
 The rest. the sunshine of the far beyond. 
 The anthems of the pilgrimage were set 
 In most pathetic minors, exquisite, 
 Yet breathing sadness more than any praise ; 
 Thy minstrels let the fitful breezes make 
 AXolian moans on their entrusted harps, 
 Until the listeners thought that this was all 
 ‘The music Thou hadst given. And so the steps 
 That halted where the two ways met and crossed, 
 The broad and narrow, turned aside in fear, 
 Thinking the radiance of their youth must pass 
 In sombre shadows if they followed Thee ; 
 Hearing afar such echoes of one strain, 
 The cross, the tribulation, and the toil, 
 The conflict and the clinging in the dark. 
 What wonder that the dancing feet are stayed 
 From entering the only path of peace ! 
 Master, forgive them! Tune their harps anew, 
 

 
 356 ‘““UNDER HIS SHADOW.” 
 
 And put a new song in their mouths for Thee, : 
 And make Thy chosen people joyful in Thy love. 
 
 Lord Jesus, Thou hast trodden once for all 
 The Via Dolorosa,—and for us ! 
 No artist power or minstrel gift may tell 
 The cost to Thee of each unfaltering step, 
 When love that passeth knowledge led Thee on, 
 Faithful and true to God, and true to us. 
 
 And now, belovéd Lord, Thou callest us 
 To follow Thee, and we will take Thy word 
 About the path which Thou hast marked for us, 
 Nerrow indeed it is! Who does not choose 
 The narrow track upon the mountain side, 
 With ever-widening view, and freshening air, 
 And honeyed heather, rather than the road, 
 With smoothest breadth of dust and loss of view, 
 Soiled blossoms not worth gathering, and the noise 
 Of wheels instead of silence of the hills, 
 Or music of the waterfalls ? Oh, why 
 Should they misrepresent Thy words and make 
 ‘* Narrow ” synonymous with ‘‘ very hard” ? 
 
 For Thou, Divinest Wisdom, Thou hast said 
 Thy ways are ways of pleasantness, and all 
 Thy paths are peace ; and that the path of him 
 Who wears thy perfect robe of righteousness 
 Ts as the light that shineth more and more 
 
 
 

 
 THE TWO PATHS. 35% 
 
 
 
 
 
 Unto the perfect day. And Thou hast given 
 An olden promise rarely quoted now,* 
 Because it is too bright for our weak faith : 
 «Tf they obey and serve Him, they shall spend 
 Days in prosperity, and they shall spend 
 Their years in pleasures.” All because thy days 
 Were full of sorrow, and Thy lonely years 
 Were passed in grief’s acquaintance—all for us! 
 
 Master, I set my seal that Thou art true, 
 Of Thy good promise not one thing hath failed ! 
 And I would send a ringing challenge forth 
 To all who know Thy name to tell it out, 
 Thy faithfulness to every written word, 
 Thy loving-kindness crowning all the days ; 
 To say and sing with me: ‘‘ The Lord is gocd, 
 His mercy is forever, and His truth 
 Is written on each page of all my life!” 
 Yes! there is tribulation, but Thy power 
 Can blend it with rejoicing. There are thorns, 
 But they have kept us in the narrow way, 
 The King’s highway of holiness and peace. 
 And there is chastening, but the Father’s love 
 Flows through it ; and would any trusting heart 
 Forego the chastening and forego the love ? 
 And every step leads on to ‘‘ more and more ; ” 
 From strength to strength Thy pilgrims pass and sing 
 The praise of Him who leads them on and on, 
 From. glory unto glory, even here ! 1878. 
 
 * Job xxvi. 11. 
 
358 ‘“CUNDER HIS SHADOW.” 
 
 PRECIOUS THINGS. 
 en 
 
 WHAT shining revelation of His treasures God 
 hath given ! 
 Precious things of grace and glory, precious nie of 
 earth and heaven. 
 Holy Spirit, now unlock them with Thy mighty golden 
 key, 
 Royal jewels of the kingdom let us now adoring see ! 
 
 II. 
 ‘Unto you therefore which believe, He is precious.’’—1 Pet. ii. 7, 
 
 Christ is precious, oh, most precious, gift by God the 
 Father sealed ; 
 
 Pearl of greatest price and treasure, hidden, yet to us re- 
 vealed ; 
 
 His own people’s crown of glory, and resplendent diadem; 
 
 More than thousand worlds, and dearer than all life and 
 love to them. 
 
 ITI. 
 
 ‘Behold, I lay in Zion a chief corner stone, elect, precious.’’—1 Pet. ii. 6. 
 
 Marvellous and very precious is the Corner Stone Elect : 
 
 Though rejected by the builders, chosen by the Archi- 
 tect. 
 
 All-supporting, all-uniting, and all-crowning, tried and 
 sure ; 
 
 True Foundation, yet true Headstone of His temple 
 bright and pure. 
 
 
 

 
 PRECIOUS THINGS. 359 
 
 IV. 
 
 ‘Ye know that ye were not redeemed with corruptible things, . . . but 
 withthe precious blood of Christ, as of a lamb without blemish and without 
 spot.”—1 Pet. i. 18, 19. 
 
 Now, in reverent awe and wonder, touch the theme of 
 deepest laud, 
 
 Precious blood of Christ that bought us and hath made 
 us nigh to God! 
 
 His own blood, O love 'unfathomed! shed for those who 
 loved Him not: 
 
 Mighty fountain always open, cleansing us from every 
 spot. 
 
 Vv. 
 
 “¢How precious alsoare Thy thoughts unto me, O God! how great is the sum 
 of them !”’—Ps. cxxxix. 17, 
 
 Oh, how wonderful and precious are Thy thoughts to us, 
 O God! 
 Outlined in creation, blazoned on redemption’s banner. 
 broad ; 
 
 Infinite and deep and dazzling as the noontide heavens 
 above ; 
 
 Yet more wonderful to usward are Thy thoughts of peace 
 and love. 
 
 VI. 
 
 ““Whereby are given unto us exceeding great and precious promises, that by 
 these ye might be partakers of the Divine nature.’’—2 Pet. i. 4. 
 
 Then, exceeding great and precious are Thy promises 
 Divine ; 
 
 Given by Christ, and by the Spirit sealed with sweetest 
 «« All are thine !” 
 
360 “SUNDER HIS SHADOW.” 
 
 
 
 Precious in their peace and power, in their sure and 
 changeless might ; 
 
 Strengthening, comforting, transforming; suns by day 
 and stars by night. 
 
 VII. 
 
 “To them that have obtained like precious faith with us through the rightcous- 
 ness of God, and our Saviour Jesus Christ.”—2 Pet. i. 1. 
 
 Precious faith our God hath given ; rich in faith is rich 
 indeed ! 
 
 Fire-tried gold from His own treasury, fully meeting 
 every need : 
 
 Channel of His grace abounding ; bringing peace and joy 
 and light ; 
 
 Purifying, overcoming; linking weakness with His 
 might. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 ‘“*The precious ointment upon the head, that ran down upon the beard, even 
 Aaron’s beard ; that went down to the skirts of his garments.” —Ps. cxxxiii. 2. 
 
 Precious ointment, very costly, of chief odors pure and 
 sweet, . 
 
 Holy gift for royal priesthood, thus for temple-service 
 meet ; 
 
 Such the Spirit’s precious unction, oil of gladness freely 
 shed, ; 3 
 
 Sanctifying and. abiding on the consecrated head. 
 
 
 
 
 

 
 PRECIOUS THINGS. 361 
 
 
 
 IX. 
 
 “ How excellent (marg. precious) is Thy loving-kindness, O God! therefore the 
 children of men put their trust under the shadow of Thy wings.’’—Ps. xxxvi. 7; 
 Isa. liv. 8, 10. 
 
 Who shall paint the flash of splendor from the open 
 casket bright, 
 
 When His precious loving-kindness beams upon the 
 quickened sight ! 
 
 Priceless jewels ever gleaming with imperishable ray, 
 
 God will never take it from us, though the mountains 
 pass away. | 
 
 x. 
 “Tt cannot be valued with the gold of Ophir, with the precious onyx, or the 
 
 sapphire. No mention shall be made of coral or of pearls : for the price of wisdom 
 is above rubies.’’—./o) xxviii. 16, 18. 
 
 Far more precious than the ruby, or the crystal’s rainbow 
 light, 
 
 Valued not with precious onyx or with pearl and sap- 
 phire bright, 
 
 Freely given to all who ask it, is the wisdom from above, 
 
 Pure and peaceable and gentle, full of fruits of life and 
 love. 
 
 ae 
 
 ‘* Blessed of the Lord be his Jand for the precious things of heaven, for the dew, 
 and for the deep that coucheth beneath, and for the precious fruits brought forth 
 by the sun, and for the precious things put forth by the moon, and for the chief 
 things of the ancient mountains, and for the precious things of the lasting hills, 
 and for the precious things of the earth.”’— Deut. xxxiii. 18, 16. 
 
 Nor withhold we glad thanksgiving for His mercies ever 
 new, 
 
 Precious things of earth and heaven, sun and rain and 
 quickening dew, 
 
362 ‘*UNDER HIS SHADOW.” 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Precious fruits and varied crowning of the year His good- 
 ness fills, 
 Chief things of the ancient mountains, precious things of 
 lasting hills. 
 PYLE 
 
 “Tf thou take forth the precious from the vile, thou shalt be as My mouth.”— 
 Jer. xv. 19. 
 
 Such His gifts : but mark we duly our responsibility 
 
 Unto Him whose name is Holy, infinite in purity ; 
 
 Sin and self no longer serving, take the precious from 
 the vile, 
 
 So His power shall rest upon thee, thou shalt dwell be- 
 neath His smile. 
 
 XIII. 
 ‘‘ The precious sons of Zion, comparable to fine gold.”.—Lam. iv. 2. 
 
 Sons of Zion, ye are precious in your heavenly Father’s 
 sight, 
 
 Ye are His peculiar treasure, ye His jewels of delight ; 
 
 Sought and chosen, cleansed and polished, purchased 
 with transcendent cost, 
 
 Kept in His own royal casket, never, never to be lost. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 ‘“‘That the trial of your faith, being much more precious than of gold that 
 perisheth, though it be tried with fire, might be found unto praise and honor and 
 glory at the appearing of Jesus Christ. ’’—1 Pet. i. 7. 
 
 Precious, more than gold that wasteth, is the trial of 
 your faith, 
 
 Fires of anguish or temptation cannot dim it, cannot 
 scathe ! 
 
‘aa 
 
 PRECIOUS THINGS. 363 
 
 
 
 
 
 Your Refiner sitteth watching till His image shineth 
 clear, 
 
 For His glory, praise and honor, when the Saviour shall 
 appear. 
 
 XV. 
 “ Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of His saints.”"—Ps. cxvi. 15. 
 
 Precious, precious to Jehovah is His children’s holy 
 
 sleep ; 
 He is with them in the passing through the waters cold 
 and deep : 
 Everlasting love enfolds them softly, sweetly to His 
 F breast, 
 
 Everlasting love receives them to His glory and His rest. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 ‘““He showed me that great city, the holy Jerusalem, descending out of 
 heaven from God, having the glory of God: and her light was like unto a stone 
 most precious ; even like a jasper stone, clear as crystal.’’—ev. xxi. 10, 11. 
 
 Pause not here,—the Holy City, glorious in God’s light, 
 behold ! 
 Like unto a stone most precious, clear as crystal, pure as 
 gold: 
 Strong foundations fair with sapphires, sardius, and chry- 
 ~ golite, 
 Blent with amethyst and jacinth, emerald and topaz 
 bright. 
 
 
 
364 ‘UNDER HIS SHADOW.” 
 
 VEL; 
 
 ‘*A city which hath foundations, whose builder and maker is God."—Heb. 
 
 xis 20; : 
 
 Glorious dwelling of the holy, where no grief or gloom 
 of sin 
 
 Through the pure and pearly portals evermore shall enter 
 ini: 
 
 Christ its hight and God its temple, Christ its song of 
 endless laud ! 
 
 Oh, what precious consummation of the precious things 
 
 of God ! 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 LINY TOKENS. 
 
 HE murmur of a waterfall 
 A mile away, 
 The rustle when a robin lights 
 Upon a spray, 
 The lapping of a Jowland stream 
 On dipping boughs, 
 The sound of grazing from a herd 
 Of gentle cows, 
 The echo from a wooded hill 
 Of cuckoo’s call, 
 The quiver through the meadow grass 
 At evening fall :-— 
 365 
 
366 
 
 MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 Too subtle are these harmonies 
 For pen and rule ; 
 
 Such music is not understood 
 By any school : 
 
 But when the brain is overwrought, 
 It hath a spell, 
 
 Beyond all human skill and power, 
 
 To make it well. 
 
 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 tone 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! 
 
 bd 
 
THE TURNED LESSON. 367 
 
 THE TURNED LESSON. 
 
 3 THOUGHT I knew it!” she said, 
 “J thought I had learnt it quite !” 
 But the gentle Teacher shook her head, 
 - With a grave yet loving light 
 In the eyes that fell on the upturned face, 
 As she gave the book 
 Wit the mark still set in the self-same place. 
 
 «J thought I knew it !” she said’; 
 And a heavy tear fell down, 
 As she turned away with bending head, 
 Yet not for reproof or frown, 
 Not for the lesson to learn again, 
 Or the play hour lost ;— 
 It was something else that gave the pain. 
 
 She could not have put it in words, 
 But her Teacher understood, 
 As God understands the chirp of the birds 
 In the depth of an autumn wood. 
 And a quiet touch on the reddening cheek 
 Was quite enough ; 
 No need to question, no need to speak. 
 
 Then the gentle voice was heard, 
 ‘*Now I will try you again !” 
 And the lesson was mastered,—every word ! 
 Was it not worth the pain ? 
 Was it not kinder the task to turn, 
 Than to let it pass, 
 As a lost, lost leaf that she did not learn ? 
 
368 
 
 MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 
 
 Is it not often so, 
 That we only learn in part, 
 
 And the Master’s testing-time may show 
 That it was not quite ‘‘by heart” ? 
 Then He gives, in His wise and patient grace, 
 
 That lesson again, 
 With the mark still set in the self-same place. 
 
 Only, stay by His side 
 Till the page is really known ; 
 It may be we failed because we tried 
 To learn it all alone. 
 And now that He would not let us lose 
 One lesson of love 
 (For He knows the loss),—can we refuse ? 
 
 But oh ! how could we dream 
 That we knew it all so well ! 
 Reading so fluently, as we deem, 
 What we could not even spell ! 
 And oh! how could we grieve once more 
 That Patient One 
 Who has turned so many a task before ! 
 
 That waiting One, who now 
 Is letting us try again ; 
 Watching us with the patient brow 
 That bore the wreath of pain ; 
 Thoroughly teaching what He would teach, 
 Line upon line, 
 Thoroughly doing His work in each. 
 
 
 

 
 APRIL. 369 
 
 
 
 Then let our hearts “ be still,” 
 
 Though our task is turned to-day ; 
 Oh, let Him teach us what He will, 
 
 In His own gracious way. 
 Till, sitting only at Jesu’s feet, 
 
 As we learn each line, | 
 
 The hardest is found all clear and sweet ! 
 March 28th, 1876. 
 
 
 
 APRIL, 
 
 THE wealth of pearly blossom, O the woodland’s © 
 emerald gleam ! 
 O the welcome, welcome sunshine on the diamond-spark- 
 ling stream ! 
 O the carol from the hawthorn and the trill from daz- 
 zling blue ! 
 O the glory of the springtime, making all things bright 
 and new ! 
 O the rosy eve’s surrender 
 To the Easter moonlight tender ! 
 O the early morning splendor, 
 Fresh and fragrant, cool and clear, 
 In the rising of the year ! 
 O the gladness of the children after all the dismal days, 
 In the freedom and the beauty and the heart-rejoicing 
 rays ! | 
 Do we chill the gleeful spirit, check the pulses bounding 
 fast, 
 By the mournful doubt suggested: ‘‘Ah, but, darling, 
 will it last?” 
 
370 MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 
 
 Though we know there may be tempests, and we knew 
 there will be showers, 
 Yet we know they only hasten summer's richer crown of 
 flowers. | 
 Blossom leads to golden fruitage, bursting bud to foliage 
 Soon ; 
 April’s pleasant gleam shall strengthen to the glorious 
 glow of June. 
 April leads to joyous May-time, 
 With its ever-lengthening daytime ; 
 This again to joyous haytime, 
 When the harvest-home is near 
 In the zenith of the year. 
 So we only tell the children of the summer days in store, 
 Of the treasures and the beauties that shall open more 
 and more. 
 So the silver carol rises, for the winter time is past ! 
 When the summer days are coming, need we ask if spring 
 shall last ? 
 
 O the gladness of the spirit, when the true and only Light 
 Pours in radiant resplendence, making all things new 
 and bright ! 
 When the love of Jesus shineth in its overcoming power, 
 When the secret sweet communion hallows every passing 
 hour. 
 O the calm and happy resting, 
 Free from every fear molesting ! 
 O the Christ-victorious breasting 
 Of the tempter’s varied art, 
 In the springtime of the heart! 
 
 
 

 
 
 
 APRIL. Ore 
 
 O the freedom and the fervor after all the faithless days ! 
 
 O the ever-new thanksgiving and the ever-flowing praise ! 
 
 Shall we tempt the gaze from Jesus, and a doubting 
 shadow cast, 
 
 Satan’s own dark word suggesting by the whisper “if it 
 last ” ? 
 
 Though we know there must be trials and there will be 
 tears below, 
 Yet we know His glorious purpose, and His promises we 
 know ! 
 Only ask—‘‘ What saith the Master?” and believe His 
 word alone, 
 That ‘‘from glory unto glory” He shall lead, shall 
 3 change His own. 
 Ever more and more bestowing 
 Love and joy in riper glowing, 
 Faith increasing, graces growing— 
 Such His promises to you ! 
 He is faithful, He is true! 
 Each Amen becomes an anthem, for we know He will 
 fal fill 
 All the purpose of His goodness, all the splendor of [His 
 will. 
 Only trust the living Saviour, only trust Him all the way, 
 And your springtide path shall brighten to the perfect 
 summer day ! 
 February 9th, 1877. 
 
72 MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 OUR RED LETTER DAYS. 
 
 Y Alpine staff recalls each shining height, 
 
 ok Kach pass of grandeur with rejoicing gained, 
 
 Carved with a lengthening record, self-explained, 
 Of mountain-memories sublime and bright. 
 No valley-life but hath some mountain days, 
 
 Bright summits in the retrospective view, 
 
 And toil-worn passes to glad prospects new, 
 Fair sunlit memories of joy and praise. 
 Grave on thy heart each past ‘‘ red letter day !” 
 Forget not all the sunshine of the way 
 By which the Lord hath led thee ; answered prayers, 
 And joys unasked ; strange blessings, lifted cares, 
 Grand promise-echoes. Thus thy life shall be 
 One record of His love and faithfulness to thee. 
 
 
 
 MISCHIEF MAKING. 
 
 NLY a tiny dropping 
 From a tiny hidden leak ; 
 But the flow is never stopping, 
 And the flaw is far to seek. 
 
 Only some trickling water, 
 Nothing at all at first ; 
 
 But it grows to a valley-slaughter, 
 For the reservoir has burst ! 
 

 
 MISCHIEF MAKING. 
 
 The wild flood once in motion, 
 Who shall arrest its course ? 
 As well restrain the ocean 
 As that ungoverned force ! 
 
 Mourn for the desolations, 
 And help the ruined men ! 
 Till next spring’s fair creations 
 
 Make the valley smile again. 
 
 Help with a free, pure pity, 
 
 For your hands in this are clean ; 
 _ You dwelt in the far-off city, 
 
 With many a mile between. 
 
 You did not watch the flowing 
 
 Of the treacherous, trickling rill ; 
 
 You did not aid the growing 
 Of the tiny rifts in the hill. 
 
 What if you had? I leave it; | 
 It is too dark a thought. 
 
 How could the heart conceive it ? 
 How came it all unsought ? 
 
 A look of great affliction, 
 
 As you tell what one told you, 
 With a feeble contradiction, 
 
 Or a ‘‘hope it is not true!” 
 
 373 
 
374 
 
 MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 A story quite too meager 
 For naming any more, 
 
 Only your friend seems eager 
 To know a little more. 
 
 No doubt of explanation, 
 If all was known, you see; 
 One might get information 
 From Mrs. A or B. 
 
 Only some simple queries 
 Passed on from tongue to tongue, 
 Though the ever-growing series 
 Has out of nothing sprung. 
 
 Only a faint suggestion, 
 Only a doubtful hint, 
 
 Only a leading question 
 With a special tone or tint. 
 
 Only a low “<1 wonder !” 
 Nothing unfair at all ; 
 
 But the whisper grows to thunder, 
 And a scathing bolt may fall ; 
 
 And a good ship is dismasted, 
 And hearts are like to break, 
 
 And a Christian life is blasted, 
 For a scarcely-guessed mistake ! 
 
LEANING OVER THE WATERFALL. 375 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 LEANING OVER THE WATERFATLI. 
 
 {A young lady fell over the rocks at the Swallow Waterfall in the summer of 
 1873, and was lost to sight in a moment.] 
 
 EANING over the waterfall ! 
 Lured by the fairy sight, 
 Heeding not the warning call, 
 Watching the foam and the flow, 
 
 a Smooth and dark, or swift and bright, 
 
 Here in the shade and there in the light ! 
 Oh, who could know 
 
 The coming sorrow, the nearing woe ? 
 
 Leaning over the waterfall ! 
 - Only a day before 
 She had spoken of Jesu’s wondrous call, 
 
 As He trod the waves of Galilee. 
 They asked, as she gazed from the sunset shore, 
 
 “‘Tf He walked that water, what would you do?” 
 Then fell the answer glad and true, 
 
 *< If He beckoned me, 
 
 I would go to Him on the pathless sea.” 
 
 Leaning over the waterfall 
 Only a moment before ! 
 And then the slip, the helpless call, 
 The plunge unheard in the pauseless roar 
 By the startled watchers on the shore ; 
 And the feet that stood by the se 
 So fair and free, 
 Are standing with Christ by the crystal sea. 
 
376 MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 Leaning over the waterfall ! 
 Have you not often leant 
 (What should hinder or what appal 2) 
 Freely, fearlessly, over the brink, 
 Merrily glancing adown the stream, 
 Or gazing rapt in a musical dream 
 At the lovely waters? But pause and think— 
 Who kept your feet, 
 And suffered you not such death to meet ? 
 
 Leaning over the waterfall ! 
 
 What if your feet had slipped ? 
 Never a moment of power to call, 
 
 Never a hand in time to save 
 
 From the terrible rush of the ruthless wave ! 
 Hearken ! would it be ill or well 
 
 If thus you fell ? 
 
 Hearken ! would it be heaven or hell ? 
 
 Leaning over the waterfall ! 
 Listen, and learn and lean ! 
 Listen to Him whose loving call 
 Soundeth deep in your heart to-day ! 
 Learn of Jesus, the only way, 
 How to be holy, how to be blest ! 
 Lean on His breast, 
 And yours shall be safety and joy and rest. 
 
 
 
 THE AWAKENING. 
 
 CS? it has come to you, dear, 
 Come so soon ! 
 
LCA Pehl Oe a Lg, 
 
 
 
 THE AWAKENING. 377 
 
 Come in the sunshine early, 
 Come in the morning pearly, 
 Not in the blaze of noon. 
 
 Yes, it has come to you, dear, 
 Strange and sweet ; 
 
 Come ere the merry May-time 
 
 Melts to the glowing hay-time, 
 Hushed in the sultry heat. 
 
 Come—with mysterious og 
 Weird and new— 
 
 Come with a magic luster - 
 
 Hung on the shining cluster 
 Ripening fast for you. 
 
 Come ! and the exquisite minor, 
 Rich and deep, 
 
 Swells with olian blending 
 
 Chords of the spirit, ending 
 Boyhood’s enchanted sleep. 
 
 Sleep that is past forever ! 
 Ts it gain ? 
 What does the waking seem like ? 
 Love that is only dream-like 
 Sings not a truthful strain. 
 
 Hearts that have roused and listened 
 Never more 
 
 (Though they may miss the crossed tones, 
 
 Though they may mourn the lost tones) 
 Sleep as they slept before. 
 
378 MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 Come ! and the great transition 
 Now is past ! 
 
 Never again the boy-life, 
 
 Only the pain—and joy-life,— 
 More of the first than last. 
 
 Come! and they do not guess it, 
 Why such a change ! 
 Why should the mirth and riot 
 Tone into manly quiet ! 
 Is it not passing strange ? 
 
 Come! ’Tis a night of wonder 
 At this call. 
 
 Characters cabalistic, 
 
 Writings all dim and mystic 
 Tremble upon the wall. 
 
 Come! am I glad or sorry ? 
 Wait and see! 
 
 Wait for God’s silent molding, 
 
 Wait for His full unfolding, 
 Wait for the days to be. 
 
 —————-046—_____— 
 
 “VESSELS OF MERCY, PREPARED ONTO 
 GLORY. 
 Rom. ix. 23. 
 ESSELS of mercy, prepared unto glory ! 
 This is your calling and this is your joy ! 
 This, for the new year unfolding before ye, 
 Tells out the terms of your blessed employ. 
 

 
 ‘“VESSELS OF MERCY, PREPARED UNTO GLORY.” 379 
 
 
 
 Vessels, it may be, all empty and broken, 
 -Marred in the Hand of inscrutable skill 
 
 (Love can accept the mysterious token) ; 
 Marred but to make them more beautiful still. 
 
 Vessels, it may be, not costly or golden ; 
 Vessels, it may be, of quantity small, 
 
 Yet by the Nail in the Sure Place upholden, 
 Never to shiver and never to fall. 
 
 Vessels to honor, made sacred and holy, 
 Meet for the use of the Master we love, 
 
 Ready for service all simple and lowly, 
 Ready, one day, for the temple above. 
 
 Yes, though the vessels be fragile and earthen, 
 God hath commanded His glory to shine ; 
 Treasure resplendent henceforth is our burthen, 
 
 Excellent power, not ours but Divine. 
 
 Shosen in Christ ere the dawn of Creation, 
 Chosen for Him to be filled with His grace, 
 Chosen to carry the streams of salvation 
 Into each thirsty and desolate place. 
 
 Take all Thy vessels, O riot Finer, 
 Purge all the dross, that each chalice may be 
 Pure in Thy pattern, completer, diviner, 
 Filled with Thy glory and shining for Thee. 
 
380 MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 — 
 
 
 
 /\ WHAT WILL YOU DO WITHOUT HIM? 
 
 COULD not do without Him ! 
 Jesus is more to me 
 Than all the richest, fairest gifts 
 Of earth could ever be. 
 But the more I find Him precious, 
 And the more I find Him true, 
 The more I long for you to find 
 What He can be to you. 
 
 You need not do without Him, 
 For He is passing by, 
 
 He is waiting to be gracious, 
 Only waiting for your cry : 
 
 He is waiting to receive you— 
 To make you all His own ! 
 
 Why will you do without Him, 
 And wander on alone ? 
 
 Why will you do without Him ? 
 Is He not kind indeed ? 
 Did He not die to save you ? 
 Is He not all you need ? 
 Do you not want a Saviour ? 
 Do you not want a Friend ? 
 One who will love you faithfully, 
 And love you to the end ? 
 
 Why will you do without Him ? 
 The Word of God is true ! 
 
 The world is passing to its doom— 
 And you are passing too. 
 
 az 
 sem 
 

 
 
 WHAT WILL YOU DO WITHOUT HIM ? 381 
 
 
 
 It may be no to-morrow 
 Shall dawn on you or me; 
 Why will you run the awful risk 
 Of all eternity ? 
 
 What will you do without Him, 
 In the long and dreary day 
 Of trouble and perplexity, 
 When you do not know the way, 
 And no one else can help you, 
 And no one guides you right, . 
 And hope comes not with morning, 
 And rest comes not with night ? 
 
 — You could not do without Him, 
 _— . If once He made you see 
 2 3 The fetters that enchain you, 
 4 Till He hath set you free. 
 a If once you saw the fearful load 
 Of sin upon your soul ; 
 A The hidden plague that ends in death, 
 a Unless He makes you whole ! 
 
 What will you do without Him, 
 When death is drawing near, 
 Without His love—the only love 
 That casts out every fear ; 
 When the shadow-valley opens, 
 
 Unlighted and unknown, 
 And the terrors of its darkness 
 Must all be passed alone ? 
 
 
 
382 
 
 MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 
 
 What will you do without Him, 
 When the great white throne is set, 
 And the Judge who never can mistake, 
 And never can forget, — 
 The Judge whom you have never here 
 As Friend and Saviour sought,— 
 Shall summon you to give account 
 Of deed and word and thought ? 
 
 What will you do without Him, 
 
 When He hath shut the door, 
 And you are left outside, because 
 You would not come before ? 
 When it is no use knocking, 
 No use to stand and wait ; 
 For the word of doom tolls through your heart, 
 That terrible ‘‘ Too late!” 
 
 You cannot do without Him ! 
 There is no other name 
 
 By which you ever can be saved, 
 No way, no hope, no claim! 
 
 Without Him—everlasting loss 
 Of love, and life, and light ! 
 
 Without Him— everlasting woe, 
 And everlasting night. 
 
 But with Him—oh ! with Jesus! 
 Are any words so blest ? 
 
 With Jesus, everlasting joy 
 And everlasting rest ! 
 

 
 
 
 A SONG IN THE NIGHT. 
 
 With Jesus—all the empty heart 
 Filled with His perfect love ; 
 With Jesus—perfect peace below, 
 
 And perfect bliss above. — 
 
 Why should you do without Him ? 
 It is not yet too late ; 
 
 He has not closed the day of grace, 
 He has not shut the gate. 
 
 He calls you! Hush! He calls you! 
 
 He would not have you go 
 Another step without Him, 
 Because He loves you so. 
 
 Why will you do without Him ? 
 He calls and calls again— 
 ‘¢Come unto Me! -Come unto Me 
 Oh, shall He cali in vain ? 
 He wants to have you with Him ; 
 Do you not want Him too ? 
 You cannot do without Him, 
 And He wants—even you. 
 
 
 
 A SONG IN THE NIGHT. 
 
 TAKE this pain, Lord Jesus, 
 
 From Thine own hand, 
 The strength to bear it bravely 
 Thou wilt command. 
 
 {9 
 
 383 
 
 [Written in severe pain, Sunday afternoon, October Sth, 1876, at the Pension 
 
B84 
 
 MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 
 
 Iam too weak for effort, 
 So let me rest, 
 
 In hush of sweet submission, 
 On Thine own breast. 
 
 I take this pain, Lord Jesus, 
 As proof indeed 7. 
 
 That Thou art watching closely 
 My truest need ; 
 
 That Thou, my Good Physician, 
 Art watching still ; 
 
 That all Thine own good pleasure 
 Thou wilt fulfill. 
 
 I take this pain, Lord Jesus ; 
 What Thou dost choose 
 
 The soul that really loves Thee 
 Will not refuse. 
 
 It is not for the first time 
 I trust to-day ; 
 
 For Thee my heart has never 
 A trustless ‘‘ Nay !” 
 
 I take this pain, Lord Jesus ; 
 But what beside ? 
 
 *Tis no unmingled portion 
 Thou dost provide. 
 
 In every hour of faintness 
 My cup runs o’er 
 
 With faithfulness and mercy, 
 And love’s sweet store. 
 

 
 CHURCH MISSIONARY JUBILEE HYMN. 385 
 
 I take this pain, Lord Jesus, 
 As Thine own gift ; 
 
 And true though tremulous praises 
 I now uplift. 
 
 I am too weak to sing them, 
 But Thou dost hear 
 ~ The whisper from the pillow, 
 Thou art so near ! 
 
 Tis thy dear hand, O Saviour, 
 That presseth sore, 
 
 ‘The hand that bears the nail-prints 
 For evermore. 
 
 And now beneath its shadow, 
 Hidden by Thee, 
 
 The pressure only tells me 
 Thou lovest me ! 
 
 
 
 CHURCH MISSIONARY JUBILEE HYMN. 
 
 “He shall see of the travail of His soul, and shall be satisfied.’’— Zsa. liii, 11. 
 
 EJOICE with Jesus Christ to-day, 
 Ail ye who love His holy sway ! 
 The travail of His soul is past, 
 He shall be satisfied at last. 
 
 Rejoice with Him, rejoice indeed ! 
 For He shall see His chosen seed. 
 But ours the trust, the grand employ, 
 To work out this divinest joy. 
 
 25 
 
386 
 
 MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 
 
 Of all His own He loseth none, 
 They shall be gathered one by one; 
 He gathereth the smallest grain. 
 His travail shall not be in vain. 
 
 Arise and work ! arise and pray 
 
 That He would haste the dawning day ; 
 And let the silver trumpet sound 
 Wherever Satan’s slaves are found. 
 
 The vanquished foe shall soon be stilled, 
 The conquering Saviour’s joy fulfilled, 
 Fulfilled in us, fulfilled in them, 
 
 His crown, His royal diadem. 
 
 Soon, soon our waiting eyes shall see 
 The Saviour’s mighty Jubilee ! 
 His harvest joy is filling fast, 
 He shall be satisfied at last. 
 Good Friday, 1877. 
 
 
 
 A HAPPY NEW YEAR TO YOU! 
 
 EW mercies, new blessings, new light on thy way ; 
 New courage, new hope, and new strength for 
 
 each day ; 
 
 New notes of thanksgiving, new chords of delight, 
 New praise in the morning, new songs in the night ; 
 New wine in thy chalice, new altars to raise ; 
 
 New fruits for thy Master, new garments of praise ; 
 

 
 THE MESSAGE OF AN AOLIAN HARP. 387 
 
 
 
 
 
 —$ 
 
 New gifts from His treasures, new smiles from His face ; 
 New streams from the Fountain of infinite grace ; 
 
 New stars for thy crown, and new tokens of love ; 
 
 New gleams of the glory that waits thee above ; 
 
 New light of His countenance full and unpriced ; 
 
 All this be the joy of thy new life in Christ ! 
 
 
 
 THE MESSAGE OF AN “OLIAN HARP. 
 
 ef OOD-BYE, my mother !” 
 
 The brown-haired boy, with merry reverence, 
 Turned from the window where she leant, to meet 
 His holiday companions, blithely bound 
 With bat and ball for healthy English sport. 
 
 She watched his lithesome form, so slight yet strong, 
 Till, passing from the gate, he waved his cap 
 And vanished. ‘Then she sighed. 
 Beside her sat 
 A friend of years. A different portrait each 
 Who knew her would have drawn, for different traits 
 Shone out in turns as sympathetic gleams. 
 Fell on them or flashed out. And few could tell 
 The color of her eyes, or gray or brown, 
 Because the hue was lost in light or shade ; 
 Nor if her mouth were large or small, because 
 The play of thought made visible was there, 
 Like shifting rainbows on white foam. Jer hair 
 Was dark, and she was rather tall: and this 
 Was all in which most people would agree, 
 
388 - MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 
 
 Not always sigh for sigh or smile for smile 
 She gave; for now and then fine tact of heart 
 Suggests an opposite as best response, 
 Completing by contrasting, like a scarlet flower 
 With soft green leaves. So with her rippling voice, 
 Like waters that now murmur low, now leap 
 In spray-like laughter, Beatrice replied 
 To Eleanor’s low sigh : 
 
 “< When he comes home, 
 How full of cricket stories he will be ! 
 °*Tis most amusing when he gives accounts, 
 Sparkling with boyish wit, yet earnestly, 
 As if an empire hung upon the match : 
 Only one needs a glossary of terms ! 
 How well he knows the interest with which 
 You hear! I mark, he intersperses all 
 With rough pet names, shy veils of tenderness 
 For his dear mother. Eleanor, I think 
 Your Hubert has not merely head and hand, 
 As all his comrades know, but true heart too, 
 As you alone know fully. Well for him 
 That he has such a heart to meet his own, 
 And well for you; for ’tis a blesséd gift, 
 Not shared by all alike—the power to love : 
 And not less blesséd for proportioned pain, 
 Its fiery seal, its royal crown of thorns.” 
 
 ‘“So seems it, Beatrice, to you who find 
 No lurking danger in its concentration, 
 Because you have so many near and dear. 
 
 Not so to me, I tremble when I think 
 How much I love him ; but I turn away 
 

 
 ee ee ee ee ee ee Ne ee ee ee ee 
 
 —er ee 
 
 THE MESSAGE OF AN ZAOLIAN HARP. 389 
 
 
 
 From thinking of it, just to love him more ;— 
 Indeed, I fear too much.” 
 
 “Dear Eleanor, 
 Do you nee him as ite as Christ loves us ? 
 Let your lips answer me.’ 
 
 ‘‘Why ask me, dear ? 
 Our hearts are finite, Christ is infinite.” 
 
 «‘Then, till you reach the standard of that love, 
 Let neither fears nor well-meant warning voice 
 Distress you with ‘too much.’ For HE hath said— 
 How much — and who shall dare to change His 
 
 measure ?— 
 ‘ That ye should love As I have loved you.’ 
 Oh, sweet command, that goes so far beyond 
 The mightiest impulse of the tenderest heart ! 
 A bare permission had been much : but He 
 Who knows our yearnings and our fearfulness, 
 Chose graciously to did us do the thing 
 That makes our earthly happiness, and set 
 A limit that we need not fear to pass, 
 Because we cannot. Oh, the breadth, and length, 
 And depth, and height of love that passeth knowledge ! 
 Yet Jesus said ‘ AS I have lovéd you.’” 
 
 “‘O Beatrice, I long to feel the sunshine 
 That this should bring ; but there are other words 
 Which fall in chill eclipse. *Tis written, ‘ Keep 
 Yourselves from idols.’ How shall I obey ?” 
 
 ‘< Dear, not by loving less, but loving more. 
 
 It is not that we love our precious ones 
 Too much, but God too little. As the lamp 
 A miner bears upon his shadowed brow, 
 
390 MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 
 
 Is only dazzling in the grimy dark, 
 And has no glare against the summer sky, 
 So, set the tiny torch of our best love 
 In the great sunshine of the Love of God, 
 And, though full fed and fanned, it casts no shade 
 And dazzles not, o’erflowed with mightier light.” 
 
 She watched, in hope to see the pale lips curve 
 More peacefully in answer to her words. 
 But Eleanor’s quick spirit bridged too soon 
 The gap between one ridge of anxious thought 
 And that beyond, to see the glen between, 
 Where pastures green and waters still were spread. 
 So, answering not her friend’s thought but her own, 
 She said, “‘’ Tis but half true that love is power ; 
 "Tis sometimes weakness.” 
 
 ‘“ Nay ! You have not found 
 It thus at all. See how the bold bright boy, 
 Willful and wayward else, will follow prompt 
 The magnet of your wish, with sudden swerve 
 From his own bent or fancy.” 
 ‘<'That is true, 
 
 And ob, so sweet tome! But by the power 
 I gauge the weakness. Beatrice, your heart 
 Has ached with longing for some stranger soul 
 That it might flee from danger to the one, 
 The Only Refuge ; you have felt keen pain 
 In calling those who will not come to Him 
 Who waits to give them life; but I, Z strive 
 For one far more than all the world to me,— 
 My boy, my only one, and fatherless, 
 Just entering the labyrinth of life 
 
THE MESSAGE OF AN HOLIAN HARP. - BOL 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 ~ Without its only clue, with nothing but 
 My feeble hand to shield from powers of ill. 
 
 | ‘¢ His mind is opening fast, and I have tried 
 
 : To show the excellency of the knowledge 
 
 | Of Jesus Christ our Lord! he listens well, 
 
 . T’o please his mother, whom he would not grieve ; 
 But never pulse of interest I feel, 
 And echoless the name of Jesus falls, 
 While classic heroes stir him with delight. 
 My boy, my only one! I taught him words, 
 When years ago his tiny feet peeped out 
 From the white nightgown in the nursery hush ; 
 And folding firm the busy little hands, 
 He lisped ‘ Our Father.’ But words are not prayer. 
 I put the lamp of life in his small hand, 
 Filling his memory with shining truths 
 
 _ And starry promises. He learnt them all 
 For love of me, just as he would have learnt 
 Some uncouth string of barbarous names, 
 Had I so wished: no more. They are no light 
 T'o him, no strength, no joy. O Beatrice, 
 "Tis this that presses on my weary heart, 
 And makes it more than widowed. For I know 
 That he who is not lost, but gone before, 
 Is only waiting till I come ; for death 
 Has only parted us a little while, 
 And has not severed e’en the finest strand 
 In the eternal cable of our love : 
 The very strain has twined it closer still, 
 And added strength. The music of his life 
 Is nowise stilled, but blended so with songs 
 
392 | MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 
 
 Around the throne of God, that our poor ears 
 No longer hear it. Hubert’s life is mute 
 As yet ; and what if all my tuning fail!” . 
 
 And Eleanor looked up among the clouds 
 With weary, wistful eyes, while Beatrice 
 Sent a far-passing glance beyond them all, 
 Beyond the sunshine too. . 
 A sudden smile 
 Rose from within and overflowed her lips 
 And made them beautiful. Poor Hleanor 
 Deemed it the herald of some happy thought, 
 Some message, it might be, from God to her, 
 Wrapped in the simple words of friend to friend. 
 We do not always know it when we have 
 The privilege to be God’s messengers, 
 Nor who shall be His messengers to us. 
 Unconsciously a pale responsive smile 
 Gleamed out to welcome it, and hardly waned. 
 As unexpected change of subject came. 
 
 ‘TJ did not tell you, did I, of my gift, 
 My beautiful Adolian harp ?” 
 
 “Oh, no! 
 
 I was too full of mine, my boy, and you 
 Too full of ready sympathy with me.” 
 
 ‘Nay, do not say ‘¢oo full,’ that could not be, 
 Yours is so great a gift, so great a care ! 
 I shall not tire of thinking with you thus, 
 Until I do not love you, which means never. 
 But, as we turn from gazing on the sea 
 To lift admiringly a tiny shell, 
 So you shall turn from your great interest 
 

 
 ee 
 
 THE MESSAGE OF AN JOLIAN HARP. 393 
 
 
 
 
 
 To hear of my AXolian treasure now. 
 ‘Say, have you ever seen one ?” 
 “« Never, dear ; 
 
 But visible, and almost audible, 
 
 Your words shall make it.” 
 
 “<'There’s not much to see : 
 
 | Two plain smooth boards, one thick, one very thin, 
 With seven tensioned strings upon the under, 
 
 Just covered by the upper, and a space 
 
 That you might lay a finger in between. 
 
 Yet one can almost reverence the thing 
 
 For very marvel at its spirit tones 
 
 And mysteries of music that we love 
 
 But cannot understand.” 
 
 “‘ But tell me more, 
 
 Dear Beatrice : what is its music like ? 
 
 Whence comes it ? and what does it say to you ?” 
 
 “Tis easier to answer what and whence 
 
 Than your third question, for not twice 
 
 I hear the same soul-message from its strings. 
 
 But I will tell you of the first it brought ; 
 
 Your heart will follow mine, and trace the under- 
 
 thought. 
 
 I. 
 
 «¢ A friend, a kind, dear friend, 
 Gave me this harp, that should be all my own, 
 That it might speak to me in twilight lone 
 When other sounds were fled ; that it might send 
 Sweet messages of calming, cheering might, 
 Sweet sudden thrills of strange and exquisite delight. 
 
394 MISCELLANEOUS, 
 
 II. 
 
 “Upon the strings I laid my hand, 
 And all were tuned in unison ; one tone 
 Was yielded by the seven, one alone, 
 In quick obedience to my touch-command. 
 It could not be that this was all he meant 
 Of promised music, when my little harp was sent. 
 
 Ill. 
 
 ‘“To win the tones I found the way 
 In his own letter, mine before the gift; 
 ‘You cannot wake its music till you lift 
 The closéd sash. Take up and gently lay 
 Your harp where it may meet the freshening air, 
 Then wait and listen.’ This I did, and left it there. 
 
 IV. 
 
 **T waited till the sun had set, 
 And twilight fell upon the autumn sea ; 
 I watched and saw the north wind touch a tree, 
 Dark outlined on the paling gold, and yet 
 My harp was mute. I cried, ‘ Awake, O north ! 
 Come to my harp, and call its answering music forth.’ 
 
 Y.. 
 
 “¢ Like stars that tremble into ight 
 Out of the purple dark, a low, sweet note 
 Just trembled out of silence, antidote 
 
 To any doubt ; for never finger might 
 Produce that note, so different, so new : 
 
 Melodious pledge that all he promised should come true. 
 
THE MESSAGE OF AN ZOLIAN HARP. 395 
 
 
 
 
 
 RE 
 
 
 
 “<Tt seemed to die ; but who could say 
 Whether or when it passed the border-line 
 *T'wixt sound and silence ? for no ear so fine 
 That it can trace the subtle shades away ; 
 Like prism-rays prolonged beyond our ken, 
 Like memories that fade, we know not how or when. 
 
 VII. 
 
 _ * Then strange vibrations rose and fell, 
 Like far sea-murmurs blending in a dream 
 With madrigals, whose fairy singers seem 
 _ Now near, now distant ; and a curfew bell, 
 Whose proper tone in one air-filling crowd 
 Of strong harmonics hides, as in a dazzling cloud. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 «Then delicately twining falls 
 Of silvery chords that quiver with sweet pain, 
 And melt in tremulous minors, mount again, 
 Brightening to fullest concords, calm recalls, 
 And measured pulsings, soft, and sweet, and slow, 
 Which emphasizing touch love’s quiet underglow. 
 
 EX. 
 
 «© A silence. Then a solemn wail, 
 Swelling far up among the harmonies, 
 And shattering the crystal melodies 
 To fleeting fragments glisteringly pale, 
 Yet only to combine them all anew 
 By resolutions strange, yet always sweet and true. 
 
396 MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 
 
 xX, 
 
 «Anon a thrill of all the strings ; 
 And then a flash of music, swift and bright, 
 Like the first throb of weird Auroral light. 
 Then crimson coruscations from the wings 
 Of the Pole-Spirit ; then ecstatic beat, 
 As if an angel-host went forth on shining feet. 
 
 XI. 
 
 *“Soon passed the sounding starlit march, 
 And then one swelling note grew full and long, 
 While, like a far-off old cathedral song, 
 Through dreamy length of echoing aisle and arch, 
 Float softest harmonies around, above, 
 Like flowing chordal robes of blessing and of love. 
 
 XII. 
 
 ‘Thus, while the holy stars did shine 
 And listen, these AZolian marvels breathed ; 
 While love and peace and gratitude enwreathed 
 With rich delight in one fair crown were mine. 
 The wind that bloweth where it listeth brought 
 This glory of harp-music,—not my skill or thought. ” 
 
 She ceased. Then Eleanor looked up, 
 And said, ‘* O Beatrice, I too have tried 
 My finger-skill in vain. But opening now 
 My window, like wise Daniel, I will set 
 My little harp therein, and listening wait 
 The breath of heaven, the Spirit of our God.” 
 

 
 eg SOP Fr ae ret ee eee 
 
 Perera 
 
 BABY’S TURN. - 397 
 
 ee A Ss 2 LV . 
 
 {aaa Y feet so busy in a tiny patter out of sight, 
 Little hands escaping from protecting doily white, 
 One in lifted eagerness, and one that grasps the baby 
 chair,— 
 All impatience! Baby darling, must not sister have a 
 share ? 
 
 Only just a moment, deary, coming, coming! don’t be 
 vexed ! 
 
 Only just a moment, darling, then we’ll see whose turn is 
 next ! 
 
 Ah, she knows as well as we do! Baby’s turn is come at 
 last ; 
 
 Now the little mouth may open ; gently, gently, not too 
 fast ! 
 
 Baby’s turn! ‘To-day ’tis only for the fruit so nice and 
 sweet, 
 But a far-away to-morrow hastens on with silent feet ; 
 When the yesterdays of life are clearest in our dimming 
 gaze, 
 Baby’s vision will be filled with brightly realized to-days. 
 
 Baby’s turn for fair unfolding in the sunny girlhood time, 
 
 For the blossom and the breezes, for the carol and the 
 chime ; ' 
 
 Baby’s turn to wear the crown of womanhood upon her 
 brow, 
 
 Heavier but nobler than the fairy gold which glitters now. 
 
398 MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 
 
 Baby’s turn to care for others, and to kiss away the tear, 
 
 For the joy of ministration to the suffering or the dear, 
 
 For the happiness of giving help and comfort, love and 
 life, 
 
 Whether walking all alone, or as a blessed and blessing 
 wife. 
 
 Baby’s turn for this and more—if God should give her 
 length of days,— 
 
 For the calmness of experience and the retrospect of 
 praise, 
 
 For the silver trace of sorrows glistening in the sunset 
 ray, 
 
 For the evening stillness falling on the turmoil of the 
 day. 
 
 What though Baby’s turn may come for bitter griefs and 
 wearing fears ! 
 
 Love shall lighten every trial,—love that prays and love 
 that hears. 
 
 See ! she watches and she wonders till the reverie is o’er ; 
 
 Did she think she was forgotten ? Now ’tis baby’s turn 
 once more. 
 
 JULY ON THE MCONIARsS 
 
 Sie is sultry gloom on the mountain brow 
 And a sultry glow beneath. 
 Oh, for a breeze from the western sea, 
 Soft and reviving, sweet and free, 
 Over the shadowless hill and lea, 
 Over the barren heath ! 
 
LIGHT AT EVENTIDE. 399 . 
 
 
 
 
 
 There are clouds and darkness around God’s ways, 
 And the noon of life grows hot ; 
 
 And though His faithfulness standeth fast 
 
 As the mighty mountains, a shroud is cast 
 
 Over its glory, solemn and vast, 
 Veiling, but changing it not. 
 
 Send a sweet breeze from Thy sea, O Lord, 
 From Thy deep, deep sea of love ; 
 Though it lift not the veil from the cloudy height, 
 Let the brow grow cool and the footsteps light, 
 As it comes with holy and soothing might, 
 Like the wing of a snowy dove. 
 
 
 
 LIGHT AT EVENTIDE-* 
 
 ‘* A. evening time it shall be light.”"—Zron. xiv. 7. 
 
 EAR Lord, Thy good and precious Book seems writ- 
 ten all for me; . 
 Wherever I may open it, I find a word from Thee. 
 My eyes are dim, but this one verse is pillow for the night, 
 Thy promise that ‘‘ At Evening Time it shall be” surely 
 ‘light.” 
 
 It was not always light with me; for many a sinful year 
 I walked in darkness, far from Thee; but Thou hast 
 brought me near, 
 
 
 
 * Written for an engraving :—An old man, sitting in his cottage door, at sunset, 
 with The Book on his knee. 
 
400 MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 And washed me in Thy precious blood, and taught me by 
 Thy grace, | 
 And lifted up on my poor soul the brightness of Thy face. - 
 
 My Saviour died in darkness that I might live in light ; 
 
 He closed His eyes in death that mine might have the 
 heavenly sight ; 
 
 He gave up all His glory to bring it down to me, 
 
 And took the sinner’s place that He the sinner’s Friend 
 might be. 
 
 His Spirit shines upon His Word, and makes it sweet 
 indeed, 7 
 
 Just like a shining lamp held up beside me as I read ; 
 
 And brings it to my mind again alone upon my bed, 
 
 Till all abroad within my heart the love of God is shed. 
 
 Tve nearly passed the shadows and the sorrows here 
 below ; | 
 
 A little while—a little while, and He will come, I know, 
 
 And take me to the glory that I think is very near, 
 
 Where I shall see Him face to face and His kind welcome 
 hear. 
 
 And now my loving Jesus is my Light at Eventide, 
 
 The welcome Guest that enters in forever to abide ; 
 
 He never leaves me in the dark, but leads me all the 
 way,— 
 
 So it 7s light at Evening Time, and soon it will be Day. 
 

 
 AT HOME TO-NIGHT. 
 
 
 
 
 
 AT HOME TO-NIGHT. 
 
 HE lessons are done and the prizes won, 
 And the counted weeks are past ; 
 Oh, the holiday joys of the girls and boys 
 Who are *“‘ home to-night” at last ! 
 Oh, the ringing beat of the springing feet, 
 As into the hall they rush ! 
 Oh, the tender bliss of the first home kiss, 
 With its moment of fervent hush ! 
 So much to tell, and to hear as well, 
 As they gather around the glow! 
 Who would not part, for the joy of heart 
 That only the parted can know ? 
 At home to-night ! 
 
 But all have not met, there are travelers yet 
 Speeding along through the dark, 
 
 By tunnel and bridge, past river and ridge, 
 To the distant yet nearing mark. 
 
 But hearts are warm, for the winter storm 
 Has never a chill for love: 
 
 And faces are bright in the flickering light 
 Of the small dim lamp above. 
 
 And voices of gladness rise over the madness 
 Of the whirl and the rush and the roar, 
 
 * For rapid and strong it bears them along 
 
 To a home and an open door— 
 
 Yes, home to-night ! 
 
 26 
 
 401 
 
402 MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 
 
 Oh, home to-night, yes, home to-night, 
 Through the pearly gate and the open door ! 
 Some happy feet on the golden street 
 Are entering now to ‘‘go out no more.” 
 For the work is done and the rest begun, 
 And the training time is forever past, 
 And the home of rest in the mansions blest 
 Is safely, joyously reached at last. 
 
 Oh, the love and light in that home to-night ! 
 Oh, the songs of bliss and the harps of gold! 
 Oh, the glory shed on the new-crowned head! _ 
 Oh, the telling of love that can ne’er be told ! 
 Oh, the welcome that waits at the shining gates, 
 
 For those who are following far, yet near ; 
 When all shall meet at His glorious feet 
 In the light and the love of His home so dear ! 
 Yes, ‘home to-night !” 
 
 
 
 “LV O HoRe 
 
 NIGHT of danger on the sea, 
 Of sleeplessness and fear ! 
 Wave after wave comes thundering 
 
 Against the strong stone pier ; 
 Each with a terrible recoil, 
 
 And a grim and gathering might, 
 As blast on blast comes howling past, 
 Each wild gust wilder than the last, 
 
 All through that awful night. 
 

 
 aS Oe eee ee 
 
 “*wow !” 
 
 Well for the ships in the harbor now, 
 Which came with the morning tide ; 
 
 With unstrained cable and anchor sure, 
 How quietly they ride ! 
 
 Well for the barque that entered at eve, 
 Though watched with breathless fear ; 
 It was sheltered first ere the tempest burst, 
 
 It is safe inside the pier ! 
 
 But see a faint and fitful light 
 Out on the howling sea! 
 
 Tis a vessel that seeks the harbor mouth, 
 As in death-agony. 
 
 Though the strong stone arms are open wide, 
 She has missed the only way ; 
 
 ’*Tis all too late, for the storm drives fast, 
 
 The mighty waves have swept her past, 
 
 And against that sheltering pier shall cast 
 Their wrecked and shattered prey. 
 
 Nearer and nearer the barque is borne, 
 As over the deck they dash, 
 
 Where sailors five are clinging fast 
 
 To the sailless stump of the broken mast, 
 Waiting the final crash. 
 
 Is it all too late ? is there succor yet 
 Those perishing men to reach ? 
 
 Life is so near on the firm-built pier, 
 That else must be death to each. 
 
 403 
 
 
 
404. MISCELLANEOUS, 
 
 There are daring hearts and powerful arms, 
 And swift and steady feet, 
 And they rush as down to a yawning grave, 
 In the strong recoil of the mightiest wave, 
 Treading that awful path to save, 
 As they trod a homeward street. 
 Over the boulders and foam they rush 
 Into the ghastly hollow ; 
 They fling the rope to the heaving wreck ; 
 The aim was sure, and it strikes the deck, 
 As the shouts of quick hope follow. 
 
 Reached, but not saved ! there is more to do, 
 A trumpet note is heard ; 
 And over the rage and over the roar 
 Of billowy thunders on the shore, 
 Rings out the guiding word. 
 There is one chance, and only one. 
 All can be saved, but how ? 
 “‘ The rope hold fast, but quit the mast 
 At the trumpet-signal ‘NOW |” 
 
 There is a moment when the sea 
 Has spent its furious strength ; 
 A shuddering pause with a sudden swirl, 
 Gathering force again to hurl 
 Billow on billow in whirl on whirl ; 
 That moment comes at length : 
 With a single shout the ** Vow” peals out, 
 And the answering leap is made. 
 
Sa 
 
 
 
 “wow !” 405 
 
 
 
 Well for the simple hearts that just 
 Loosing the mast with fearless trust, 
 The strange command obeyed ! 
 
 For the rope is good and the stout arms pull 
 Kre the brief storm-lull is o’er ; 
 
 It is but a swift and blinding sweep 
 
 Through the waters wild and dark and deep, 
 And the men are safe on shore— 
 
 Safe! though, the fiend-like blast pursue, 
 Safe ! though the waves dash high ; 
 
 But the ringing cheer that rises clear 
 
 _ Is pierced with a sudden cry :— 
 
 <‘There are but four drawn up to shore, 
 And five were on the deck !” 
 And the straining gaze that conquers gloom 
 Still traces, drifting on to doom, 
 One man upon the wreck. 
 Again they chase in sternest race 
 The far-recoiling wave ; 
 The rope is thrown to the tossing mark, | 
 But reaches not in the windy dark 
 The one they strive to save. 
 
 Again they rush, and again they fail, 
 Again, and yet again: 
 
 The storm yells back defiance loud, 
 
 The breakers rear a rampart proud, 
 And roar, ‘‘In vain, in vain !” 
 
406 
 
 MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 Then a giant wave caught up the wreck, 
 And bore it on its crest ; 
 
 One moment it hung quivering there 
 In horrible arrest. 
 
 And the lonely man on the savage sea 
 A lightning flash uplit, 
 
 Still clinging fast to the broken mast 
 That he had not dared to quit. 
 
 Then horror of great darkness fell, 
 While eyes flashed inward fire ;_ 
 And over all the roar and dash, 
 Through that great blackness came a crash, 
 A token sure and dire. 
 The wave had burst upon the pier, 
 The wreck was scattered wide ; 
 Another ‘‘ Vow” would never reach 
 The corpse that lay upon the beach 
 With the receding tide. 
 
 God’s ‘‘ Now” is sounding in your ears, 
 Oh, let it reach your heart ! 
 Not only from your sinfulness 
 He bids you part ; 
 Your righteousness as filthy rags 
 Must all relinquished be, 
 And only Jesus’ precious death 
 Must be your plea. 
 
es Seen mrs 
 
 
 
 ‘* PROM GLORY TO GLORY.” 407 
 
 
 
 Now trust the one provided rope, 
 Now quit the broken mast, 
 
 Before the hope of safety be 
 Forever past. 
 
 Fear not to trust His simple word, 
 So sweet, so tried, so true, 
 
 And you are safe for evermore, 
 Yes,—even you ! 
 
 
 
 “PROM GLORY TO GLORY.” 
 
 2 Cor. iii. 18. 
 
 sg i va glory unto glory!” Be this our joyous song, 
 As on the King’sown highway we bravely march 
 along ! 
 *‘FWrom glory unto glory!” O word of stirring cheer ! 
 As dawns the solemn brightness of another glad New 
 Year. 
 
 Our own beloved Master ‘‘hath many things to say ;” 
 
 Look forward to His teaching, unfolding day by day ; 
 
 To whispers of His Spirit, while resting at His feet, 
 J'o glowing revelation, to insight clear and sweet. 
 
 ‘From glory unto glory!” Our faith hath seen the 
 King; 
 
 We own His matchless beauty, as adoringly we sing : 
 
 But He hath more to show us! O thought of untold 
 bliss ! 
 
 And we press on exultingly in certain hope to this :— 
 
408 © MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 T'o marvellous outpouring of His ‘‘ treasures new and 
 old,” 
 
 To largess of His bounty, paid in the King’s own gold, 
 
 To glorious expansion of His mysteries of grace, 
 
 To radiant unveilings of the brightness of His face. 
 
 ‘‘From glory unto glory!” What great things He hath 
 done, 
 
 What wonders He hath shown us, what triumphs He 
 hath won ! 
 
 We marvel at the record of the blessings of the year! 
 
 But sweeter than the Christmas bells rings out His prom- 
 ise clear— 
 
 That ‘‘ greater things,” far greater, our longing eyes shall 
 see | 
 
 We can but wait and wonder what “ greater things” shall 
 be! 
 
 But glorious fulfillments rejoicingly we claim, 
 
 While pleading in the power of the All-prevailing Name. 
 
 “From glory unto glory!” What mighty blessings 
 crown 
 
 The lives for which our Lord hath laid His own so freely 
 down ! 
 
 Omnipotence to keep us, Omniscience to guide, 
 
 Jechovah’s '[riune Presence within us to abide ! 
 
 The fullness of His blessing encompasseth our way ; 
 The fullness of His promises crowns every brightening 
 day ; ; 
 

 
 ‘PROM GLORY TO GLORY.” 409 
 
 The fullness of His glory is beaming from above, 
 While more and more we realize tic fullness of His love. 
 
 “From glory unto glory!” . Without a shade of care, 
 Because the Lord who loves us will every burden bear ; 
 Because we trust Him fully, and know that He will 
 guide, 
 
 And know that He will keep us at His belovéd side. 
 “From glory unto glory!” Though tribulation fall, 
 -It cannot touch our treasure, when Christ is all in all! 
 Whatever lies before us, there can be naught to fear, 
 
 For what are pain and sorrow when Jesus Christ is near ? 
 
 ‘‘ From glory unto glory!” O marvels of the word ! 
 
 “With open face beholding the glory of the Lord,” 
 
 We, even we (O wondrous grace!) ‘are changed into 
 the same,” 
 
 The image of our Saviour, to glorify His Name. 
 
 Abiding in His presence, and walking in the light, 
 
 And seeking to ‘‘do always what is pleasing in His 
 sight,” 
 
 We look to Him to keep us “all glorious within,” 
 
 Because ‘‘ the blood of Jesus Christ ¢s cleansing from all 
 sin.” 
 
 The things behind forgetting, we only gaze before, 
 “From. glory unto glory,” that ‘“‘shineth more and 
 more,” 
 
410 MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 
 
 Because our Lord hath said it, that such shall be our 
 way, 
 (O splendor of the promise !) “ unto the perfect day.” 
 
 “‘From glory unto glory!” Our fellow-travelers still 
 
 Are gathering on the journey ! the bright electric thrill 
 
 Of quick instinctive union, more frequent and more 
 sweet, 
 
 Shall swiftly pass from heart to heart in true and tender 
 beat. 
 
 And closer yet, and closer the golden bonds shall be, 
 
 Enlinking all who love our Lord in pure sincerity ; 
 
 And wider yet, and wider shall the circling glory glow, - 
 
 As more and more are taught of God that mighty love to 
 know. 
 
 Oh, ye who seek the Saviour, look up in faith and love, 
 Come up into the sunshine, so bright and warm above ! 
 No longer tread the valley, but clinging to His hand, 
 Ascend the shining summits, and view the glorious land. 
 
 Our harp-notes should be sweeter, our trumpet-tones 
 more clear, | 
 
 Our anthems ring so grandly, that all the world must 
 hear ! 
 
 Oh, royal be our music, for who hath cause to sing 
 
 Like the chorus of redeemed ones, the Children of the 
 King ! 
 

 
 THE CHILDREN’S TRIUMPH. 4l1 
 
 
 
 Oh, let our adoration for all that He hath done 
 
 Peal out beyond the stars of God, while voice and life 
 are one ! 
 
 And let our consecration be real, and deep, and true; 
 
 Oh, even now our hearts shall bow, and joyful vows re- 
 new !— 
 
 dw full and glad surrender foe gibe ourseloes to Chee, 
 
 Chine utterly and only, and ebermare to be! 
 
 © Sow of God, flo lobest us, foe fill be Thine alone, 
 
 An all foe are, and all fe bube, shall henceforth be Chine ow!” 
 
 Now onward, ever onward, from ‘“‘ strength to strength ” 
 we go, 
 
 While “ grace for grace ” abundantly shall from His full- 
 ness flow, 
 
 To glory’s full fruition, from glory’s foretaste here, 
 
 Until His Very Presence crown our happiest New Year! 
 
 
 
 THE CHILDREN S TRIUMPH. 
 
 HE sunbeams came to my window, 
 And said, ‘‘ Come out and see 
 
 The sparkle on the river, 
 ' The blossom on the tree !” 
 But never a moment parleyed I 
 
 With the bright-haired Sunbeams’ call ! 
 Though their dazzling hands on the leaf they laid, 
 I drew it away to the curtain-shade, 
 
 Where a sunbeam could not fall. 
 
 * 
 
412 MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 The Robins came to my window, 
 And said, ‘‘ Come out and sing! 
 Come out and join the chorus 
 Of the festival of the spring !” 
 But never a carol would I trill 
 In the festival of May ; 
 But I sat alone in my shadowy room, 
 And worked away in its quiet gloom, | 
 And the Robins flew away. 
 
 The Children came to my window, 
 And said, ‘‘ Come out and play ! 
 Come out with us in the sunshine, 
 Tis such a glorious day !” 
 Then never another word I wrote, 
 And my desk was put away ! 
 When the Children called me, what could I do? 
 The Robins might fail, and the Sunbeams too, 
 But the Children won the day. 
 
 
 
 “THE SHINING LIGHT, THAT TSH eae 
 MORE AND MORE UNTO THE PERFECT 
 DAK a 
 
 Prov. iv. 18. 
 aN YEAR ago the gold light 
 Sweet morning made for me; 
 A tender and untold light, 
 Like music on the sea ; 
 

 
 Sa a a eee eee ee 
 
 ANOTHER YEAR. 
 
 Light and music twining 
 In melodious glory, 
 
 A rare and radiant shining 
 On my changing story. 
 
 To-day the golden sunlight 
 Is full and broad and strong ; 
 The glory of the One Light 
 Must overflow in song ; 
 Song that floweth ever, 
 Sweeter every day, 
 Song whose echoes never, 
 Never die away. 
 
 How shall the light be clearer 
 That is so bright to-day ? 
 How shall the hope be dearer 
 That pours such joyous ray ? 
 I am only waiting 
 For the answer golden : 
 What faith is antedating 
 Shall not be withholden. 
 
 
 
 ANOTHEI YEAR, : 
 
 YS ar year is dawning ! 
 Dear Master, let it be 
 
 In working or in waiting 
 Another year with Thee. 
 
414 MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 Another year of leaning 
 Upon Thy loving breast, 
 
 Of ever-deepening trustfulness, 
 Of quiet, happy rest. ; 
 
 Another year of mercies, 
 
 Of faithfulness and grace ; 
 Another year of gladness 
 
 In the shining of Thy face. 
 
 Another year of progress, 
 Another year of praise ; 
 Another year of proving 
 Thy presence ‘‘ all the days.” 
 
 Another year of service, 
 Of witness for Thy love ; 
 Another year of traming 
 For holier work above. 
 
 Another year is dawning ! 
 Dear Master, let it be, 
 On earth, or else in heaven, 
 Another year for Thee ! 
 
 
 
 WILL VOU NOT COME? 
 
 \\ ILL you not come to Him for Life? 
 ‘¢Why will ye die,” oh, why ? 
 He gave His life for you, for you ! 
 The gift is free, the word is true * 
 Will you not come ? oh, why will you die ? 
 

 
 WILL YOU NOT COME? 415 
 
 
 
 
 
 Will you not come to Him for Peace, 
 Peace through His cross alone ? 
 He shed His precious blood for you ; 
 The gift is free, the word is true : 
 He is our Peace—oh, is He your own? 
 
 Will you not come to Him for Rest ? 
 All that are weary, come ! 
 The rest He gives is deep and true, 
 Tis offered now, ’tis offered you ! 
 Rest in His love, and rest in His home. 
 
 Will you not come to Him for Joy, 
 Will yor not come for this ? 
 
 He laid His joys aside for you, 
 
 To give you joy, so sweet, so true: 
 Sorrowing heart, oh, drink of the bliss! 
 
 Will you not come to Him for Love, 
 Love that can fill the heart ? 
 Exceeding great, exceeding free ! 
 He loveth you, He loveth me ! 
 Will you not come ? Why stand you apart ? 
 
 Will you not come to Him for ALL? 
 Will you not ‘taste and see” ? 
 
 He waits to give it all to you, 
 
 The gifts are free, the words are true! 
 Jesus is calling, ‘‘ Come unto Me!” 
 
416 | MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 BONNIE WEE ERIC. 
 
 ONNIE wee Eric! I have sat beside the evening 
 fire, j 
 And listened to the leaping flame still darting keenly 
 higher, | 
 And all the while a lisping voice and eyes of sunny blue 
 Out-whispered the flame-whisper, and outshone the 
 flicker too. 
 
 Bonnie wee Eric! To his home thoughts pleasantly re- 
 turn, 
 
 To long fair evenings in the land of ben and brae and 
 burn ; 
 
 Sweet northern words, so tunefully upon our Saxon 
 flung, 
 
 As if a mountain breeze swept by where fairy bells are 
 hung. 
 
 But sweeter than all fairy bells of quaint sweet minstrel 
 tongue : 
 
 Rang out wee Eric’s gentlest tone when o’er his cot I 
 hung, 
 
 And told him in the sunset glow once more the old dear 
 story 
 
 Of Him who walked the earth that we might walk with 
 Him in glory. 
 
 “* He loves the little children so ;—does darling Eric love 
 Him py 
 
 I think the angels must have,smiled a rainbow-smile 
 above him, 
 
Yet hardly brighter than his own, that lit the answer 
 true, | 
 “« Jesus, the kind good Jesus! Me do, oh, yes, me do.” 
 
 BONNIE WEE ERIC. 417 
 
 
 
 
 
 Bonnie wee Eric! How the thought of heaven is full of 
 joy, ; 
 
 And death has not a shadow for the merry, healthful 
 boy ! 
 
 To hear about the happy home he gladly turns away 
 
 From picture books, or Noah’s ark, or any game of play. 
 
 ‘‘Mamma, some day me die, and then the angels take me 
 
 home 
 To Jesus, and me sing to Him ;—papa and you too 
 come.” 
 So brightly said! ‘‘But, Eric, would you really dike to 
 eaten! 
 
 She answered him; ‘‘ then, darling, tell mamma the 
 reason why ?” 
 
 And then the sunny eyes looked up, and seemed at once 
 to be 
 
 Filled with a happy, solemn light, like sunrise on the sea; 
 
 He said, ‘‘ Yes, me would like to die, for me know where 
 me going!” 
 
 What saint-like, longing baby lips! and oh, what blesséd 
 knowing ! 
 
 The lesson of the “little child” is sweetly learnt from 
 him ; 
 No questioning, no anxious faith all tremulous and dim, 
 27 
 
418 MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 
 
 No drowsy love that hardly knows if it be love indeed ; 
 Not “think” or ‘‘ hope,” but—‘*‘Oh, me do,”—‘‘ me 
 | know,’—his simple creed. | 
 
 Bonnie wee Eric! Hardly launched on this world’s 
 troubled sea, 
 
 We know the little bark is safe whate’er its course may 
 be ; 
 
 And short or long, or fair or rough, our hearts are glad 
 in knowing 
 
 It will be onward, heavenward still, for he ‘‘ knows 
 where he’s going.” 
 
 
 
 THE SONG OF LOVE. 
 
 PASSED along the meadows fair, 
 The lark’s loud carol filled the air, 
 A living song up-soaring : 
 A wanderer passed along, and sang 
 A song that all the lark’s out-rang, 
 His very soul outpouring : 
 *¢Still onward to my quiet home, 
 With yearning, glad endeavor ; 
 Still singing all the way I roam 
 A song of love forever.” 
 
 I passed along the forest green, 
 And heard a song ring out between 
 

 
 THE SONG OF LOVE. 419 
 
 
 
 The leafy aisles o’erarching : 
 The music filled the silent shade, 
 The singer passed through glen and glade, 
 With steady footstep marching : 
 «Still onward to my quiet home, 
 With yearning, glad endeavor ; 
 Still singing all the way I roam 
 A song of love forever.” 
 
 I lingered by the river side, 
 And watched a tiny vessel glide, 
 And saw the white waves glisten : 
 The helm was in the wanderer’s hand, 
 The same clear music reached the strand, 
 And bid my whole soul listen : 
 “<¢Still onward to my quiet home, 
 With yearning, glad endeavor ; 
 Still singing all the way I roam 
 A song of love forever.” 
 
 I passed the quiet churchyard bound, 
 And stood beside a new-made mound, 
 In silent sunset glory ; 
 The flowering grasses, fresh and fair, 
 -Waved lightly in the summer air, 
 And softly told the story : 
 ‘*He resteth in his quiet home, 
 Whence nothing now can sever ; 
 Still singing, though no more to roam, 
 His song of love forever.” 
 
420 MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 
 
 SUNSET. 
 
 From the Cantata, ‘‘ The Mountain Maidens.” _ 
 
 T is coming, it is coming, 
 That marvellous up-summing 
 Of the loveliest and grandest all in one: 
 The great transfiguration, 
 And the royal coronation 
 Of the Monarch of the mountains by the priestly Sun. 
 
 Watch breathlessly and hearken, 
 While the forest throne-steps darken 
 His investiture in crimson and in fire ; 
 Not a herald-trumpet ringeth, 
 Not a pean echo flingeth ; 
 There is music of a silence that is mightier far and higher. 
 
 Then, in radiant obedience, 
 A flush of bright allegiance 
 Lights up the vassal-summits and the proud peaks 
 all around ; 
 And a thrill of mystic glory 
 Quivers on the glaciers hoary, 
 As the ecstasy is full, and the mighty brow is crowned : 
 
 Crowned with ruby of resplendence, 
 In unspeakable transcendence, 
 "Neath a canopy of purple and of gold outspread, 
 With rock-sceptres upward pointing, 
 While the glorious anointing 
 Of the consecrating sunlight is poured upon his head. 
 

 
 SUNSET. 421 
 
 
 
 Then a swift and still transition 
 Falls upon the gorgeous vision, 
 And the ruby and the fire pass noiselessly away : 
 But the paling of the splendor 
 Leaves a rose-light, clear and tender, 
 And lovelier than the loveliest dream that melts before 
 the day. 
 
 Oh, to keep it ! oh, to hold it 
 While the tremulous rays enfold it ! 
 Oh, to drink in all the beauty, and never thirst 
 again ! 
 Yet less lovely if less fleeting ! 
 For the mingling and the meeting 
 Of the wonder and the rapture can but overflow in pain. 
 
 It is passing, it is passing ! 
 While the softening glow is glassing 
 In the crystal of the heavens al! the fairest of its 
 rose. 
 Ever faintly and more faintly, 
 Ever saintly and more saintly, 
 Gleam the snowy heights around us in holiest repose. 
 
 O pure and perfect whiteness ! 
 O mystery of brightness 
 Upon those still, majestic brows shed solemnly 
 abroad ! 
 Like the calm and blesséd sleeping 
 Of saints in Christ’s own keeping, 
 When the smile of holy peace is left, last witness for 
 their God ! 
 
422 ; MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 LOVE FOKNEOUE 
 “We have known and believed the love that God hath to us.”—1 Sr. Jom 
 iv. 16. 
 NOWING that the God on high, 
 
 With a tender Father’s grace, 
 
 Waits to hear your faintest cry, 
 Waits to show a Father’s face— 
 
 Stay and think ! oh, should not you 
 Love this gracious Father too ? 
 
 Knowing Christ was crucified, 
 Knowing that He loves you now 
 Just as much as when He died 
 With the thorns upon His brow— 
 Stay and think ! oh, should not you 
 Love this blessed Saviour too ? 
 
 Knowing that a Spirit strives 
 With your weary, wandering heart, 
 Who would change the restless lives, 
 Pure and perfect peace impart— 
 Stay and think! oh, should not you 
 Love this loving Spirit too ? 
 
 
 
 “MOST BLESSED FOREVER.” 
 
 HE prayer of many a day is all fulfilled, 
 Only by full fruition stayed and stilled ; 
 You asked for blessing as your Father willed, 
 Now He hath answered, ‘‘ Most blesséd forever ! ” 
 

 
 ae 
 eo 
 Oo 
 
 FINIS. 
 
 
 
 
 
 Lost is the daily light of mutual smile, 
 
 You therefore sorrow now a little while ; 
 
 But floating down life’s dimmed and lonely aisle 
 Comes the clear music, ‘‘ Most blesséd forever ! ” 
 
 From the great anthems of the Crystal Sea, 
 
 Through the far vistas of Eternity, 
 
 Grand echoes of the word peal on for thee, 
 Sweetest and fullest, ‘‘ Most blessed forever ! ” 
 
 
 
 FINIS* 
 NOTHER little volume filled with varied verse and 
 
 a song 
 
 Should wake another note of praise, unheard, but deep 
 and strong ; 
 
 For He who knows my truest need, and leads me day by 
 day, | 
 
 Has given the music that hath been such solace on my 
 way. 
 
 I look up to my Father, and know that I am heard, 
 
 And ask Him for the glowing thought, and for the fitting 
 word : 3 
 
 I look up to my Father, for I cannot write alone ; 
 
 Tis sweeter far to seek His strength than lean upon my 
 own. 
 
 
 
 * Written on the last leaf of a MS. volume. 
 
424 MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 
 
 
 
 And so the closing verses of my new-filled book shall be 
 
 A note of praise, dear Father, sung only unto Thee, 
 
 To Thee, who hast so helped me, to Thee who hast so 
 blessed, 
 
 The only Friend who knows my heart, the nearest and the 
 best. 
 
 I bless Thee, gracious Father, who hast molded praise 
 from pain, 
 
 And turned a wail of mourning to a trustful, calm refrain, 
 
 To many a sorrow giving me an afterward of song, 
 
 And wafting it to other hearts in comfort true and strong. 
 
 I bless Thee, gracious Father, for Thy pleasant gift to 
 me, 
 
 And earnestly I ask Thee that it may always be 
 
 In perfect consecration laid at Thy glorious feet, 
 
 Touched with Thine altar-fire, and made an offering pure 
 and sweet. 
 
 
 

 
 
 
 CLOSING CHORDS. 
 
 —= 
 
 CHOSEN LESSONS. 
 
 “ Him shall He teach in the way that He shall choose.”’--Ps. xxv. 12. 
 
 N the way that He shall choose 
 He will teach us ; 
 Not a lesson we shall lose, 
 All shall reach us. 
 
 Strange and difficult indeed 
 We may find it, 
 
 But the blessing that we need 
 Is behind it. 
 
 All the lessons He shall send 
 Are the sweetest, 
 And His training, in the end, 
 
 Is completest. 
 425 
 
426 
 
 CLOSING CHORDS. 
 
 HITHERTO AND HENCEFORTH. 
 BE The Lord hath blessed me hitherto.”—Josa. xvii. 14. 
 
 “TITHERTO the Lord hath blessed us, 
 Guiding all the way ; | 
 Henceforth let-us trust Him fully, 
 Trust Him all the day. 
 
 Hitherto the Lord hath loved us, 
 Caring for His own ; 
 
 Henceforth let us love Him better, 
 Live for Him alone. 
 
 Hitherto the Lord hath blessed us, 
 Crowning all our days ; 
 
 Henceforth let us live to bless Him, 
 Live to show His praise. 
 
 
 
 CHRISTMAS GIFTS. 
 
 * Thou hast received gifts for men.”—Ps, Ixviii. 18. 
 
 HRISTMAS gifts for thee, 
 Fair and free ! 
 
 Precious things from the heavenly store, 
 Filling thy casket more and more ; 
 Golden love in divinest chain, 
 That never can be untwined again ; 
 Silvery carols of joy that swell 
 Sweetest of all in the heart’s lone cell ; 
 
HE HATH DONE IT! 424 
 
 
 
 Pearls of peace that were sought for thee 
 In the terrible depths of a fiery sea ; 
 Diamond promises sparkling bright, 
 Flashing in farthest reaching light. 
 
 Christmas gifts for thee, 
 Grand and free ! 
 
 Christmas gifts from the King of love, 
 Brought from His royal home above ; 
 Brought to thee in the far-off land, 
 Brought to thee by His own dear hand. 
 Promises held by Christ for thee, 
 Peace as a river flowing free, 
 Joy that in His own joy must live, 
 And love that Infinite Love can give. 
 Surely thy heart of hearts uplifts 
 Carols of praise for such Christmas gifts. 
 
 
 
 HE HATH DONE IT! 
 
 «‘T have blotted out, as a thick cloud, thy transgressions, and, as a cloud, thy 
 sins : return unto Me; for I have redeemed thee. Sing, O heavens ; for the 
 Lord hath cone it.’’—Jsa. xliv. 22, 23. 
 
 ‘“‘T kcow that, whatsoever God doeth, it shall be forever : nothing can be put 
 to it, nor anything taken from it.’’—Xecles. iii. 14. 
 
 ING, O heavens ! the Lord hath done it! 
 Sound it forth o’er land and sea ! 
 Jesus says, ‘I have redeemed thee, 
 Now return, return to Me.” 
 
428 
 
 CLOSING CHORDS. 
 
 
 
 Oh, return, for His own life-blood 
 Paid the ransom, made us free 
 Evermore and evermore. 
 
 For I know that what He doeth 
 Stands forever fixed and true; 
 Nothing can be added to it, 
 Nothing left for us to do; 
 Nothing can be taken from it, 
 Done for me and done for you 
 Evermore and evermore. 
 
 Listen now ! the Lord hath done it! 
 For He loved us unto death ; 
 It is finished ! He hath saved us! 
 Only trust to what He saith. 
 He hath done it! Come and bless Him, 
 Spend in praise your ransomed breath 
 Evermore and evermore. 
 
 Oh believe the Lord hath done it! 
 Wherefore linger ? wherefore doubt ? 
 
 All the cloud of black transgression 
 He Himself hath blotted out. 
 
 He hath done it! Come and bless Him, 
 Swell the grand thanksgiving shout 
 
 Kivermore and evermore. 
 December 3d, 1878. 
 
WHAT THOU WILT. 429 
 
 WHAT THOG WILT. 
 
 joe 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. 
 
 Take what Thou wilt, belovéd Lord, 
 For I have all in Thee ! 
 My own exceeding great reward, 
 Thou, Thou Thyself shalt be ! 
 December, 1878. 
 
430 CLOSING CHORDS. 
 
 VOICES. 
 OF TWILIGHT. 
 
 HAT are the whispering voices 
 That awake at twilight-fall ? 
 Do they come from the golden sunset, 
 With their haunting, haunting call ? 
 They tell me of breezy springtimes, 
 And the lakes’ sweet summer eves, 
 And of snow-wreaths merrily shaken 
 From the shining ivy leaves. 
 - But the far-off treble changeth 
 To a tenor tone, and so 
 I know that the voices tell me 
 Only of long ago. 
 I hear you, I hear you, 
 In the gentle twilight-fall. 
 Come to me, come ! 
 With your haunting, haunting call. 
 
 OF DAWN. 
 
 What are the whispering voices 
 That wake at early dawn ? 
 
 Do they come from the orient portals 
 Of the palace of the morn ? 
 
 They tell of a Golden City 
 With pearl and jasper bright, 
 
 And of shining forms that beckon 
 From the pure and dazzling light. 
 
Tr. or 
 en 
 j 
 
 ECHOES FROM THE WORD. 
 
 
 
 Then a rush of far-off harpings 
 Blends with the voices clear, 
 And I know that the night is passing, 
 Anda I know that the day is near ! 
 I hear you, I hear you, 
 Sweet voices of the dawn ! 
 Come to me, come ! 
 In the early, early morn. 
 
 ECHOES FROM THE WORD. 
 
 1.—‘* THY WORD.” 
 
 | PON thy word I rest, 
 
 So strong, so sure ; 
 So full of comfort blest, 
 So sweet, so pure,— 
 The word that changeth not, that faileth never ! 
 My King, I rest upon Thy Word forever ! 
 
 Il.—‘*‘THY KING COMETH.” 
 
 Cometh in lowliness, 
 Cometh in righteousness, 
 
 Cometh in mercy all-royal and free ! 
 Cometh with grace and might, 
 Cometh with love and light, 
 
 Cometh belovéd—oh, cometh to thee ! 
 
 431 
 
432 CLOSING CHORDS. 
 gh 
 
 
 
 IlI.—‘*‘UNTO US A CHILD IS BORN.” 
 
 Unto you the Child is born 
 
 On this blessed Christmas morn : 
 
 Unto you, to be your Peace ; 
 Unto you, for He hath found you ; 
 
 Unto you, with full release | 
 From the weary chains that bound you ; 
 
 Unto you, that you may rise 
 
 Unto Him above the skies! 
 
 Iv.—‘*‘ ENOCH WALKED WITH GOD.” 
 
 So may’st thou walk! from hour to hour 
 Of every passing year, 
 Keeping so very near 
 To Him whose power is love, whose love is power. 
 
 So may’st thou walk! in His clear light, 
 Leaning on Him alone, 
 Thy life His very own, 
 Until He takes thee up to walk with Him in white. 
 
 V.—** SILENT TO THE LORD.” 
 
 Rest, and be silent! For, faithfully listening, 
 Patiently waiting, thine eyes shall behold 
 
 Pearls in the waters of quietness glistening, 
 Treasures of promise that He shall unfold. 
 
 Rest and be silent ! for Jesus is here, 
 
 Calming and stilling each ripple of fear. 
 
ECHOES FROM THE WORD. 
 
 VI.—‘‘ CHILDREN OF 1HE DAY.” 
 
 Fear not the westering shadows, 
 Oh, Children of the day ! 
 For brighter still and brighter 
 Shall be your homeward way. 
 Resplendent as the morning, 
 With fuller glow and power, 
 And clearer than the noonday, 
 Shall be your sunset hour. 
 
 VII.—OUR SUBSTITUTE. 
 
 On Thee the Lord 
 My mighty sins hath laid ; 
 And against Thee Jehovah’s sword 
 Flashed forth its fiery blade. 
 The stroke of justice fell on Thee, 
 That it might never fall on me. 
 
 VIII.—EASTER HALLELUJAHBS. 
 
 O mountain height, break forth and sing 
 In color-music fair and sweet ! 
 O forest depths, awake and bring 
 Your delicate odors to His feet ! 
 Sing, for the Lord hath done it! | 
 Proclaim redemption, for He hath won it! 
 Let Easter hallelujahs rise from every living thing! 
 
 IX.—‘“* WONDROUS GRACE.” 
 
 Wondrously 
 The Lord hath dealt with thee : 
 
 433 
 
A434 
 
 CLOSING CHORDS. 
 
 
 
 
 
 Wondrous mercy all the way, 
 Wondrous patience every day, 
 Wondrous pardon, wondrous feeding, 
 Wondrous help and wondrous leading. 
 
 Wondrously 
 The Lord shall deal with thee ! 
 Wondrous tenderness and grace, 
 Wondrous shining of His face, 
 Wondrous faithfulness and power, 
 Wondrous love from hour to hour. — 
 
 X.—‘**‘ HE KNOWS.”’ 
 
 He knows ! 
 Yes, Jesus knows just what you cannot tell, 
 - He understands so well ! 
 The silence of the heart is heard ; 
 He does not need a single word ; 
 He thinks of you ; 
 
 He watcheth and He careth too. 
 He pitieth, He loveth! All this flows 
 
 In one sweet word, ‘‘ He knows !” / 
 
 XI.—‘*‘ THROUGH THE WATERS.” 
 
 ‘When thou passest through the waters, 
 I will be with thee !” | 
 Sure and sweet and all-sufficient 
 Shall His presence be. 
 All God’s billows overflowed Him 
 In the great atoning day : 
 Now He only leads thee through them— 
 With thee all the way. 
 

 
 THE KEY FOUND. 435 
 
 
 
 XII.—THE BELIEVER’S REST. 
 
 The weary quest 
 Is over now, for He who loves us calleth, 
 *“Come unto Me, and I will give you rest.” 
 That still Voice falleth 
 
 On hearts that, listening, are blest. 
 
 And daily shall that blessing flow, 
 
 And daily shall the gladness grow, 
 “For we which have believed do enter into rest.” 
 
 THE KEY FOUND. 
 
 HERE is astrange wild wail around, a wail of wild 
 unrest, 
 A moaning in the music, with echoes unconfessed, 
 And a mocking twitter here and there, with small notes 
 shrill and thin, 
 And deep, low shuddering groans that rise from caves of 
 gloom within. 
 
 And still the weird wail crosses the harmonies of God, 
 
 And still the wailers wander through His fair lands, rich 
 and broad ; 
 
 Grave thought-explorers swell the cry of doubt and 
 nameless pain, 
 
 And careless feet among the flowers trip to the dismal 
 
 strain. 
 
436 CLOSING CHORDS. 
 
 
 
 They may wander as they will in the hopeless search for 
 truth, 
 
 They may squander in the quest all the freshness of their 
 youth, 
 
 They may wrestle with the nightmares of sin’s unresting 
 sleep, 
 
 They may cast a futile plummet in the heart’s unfath- 
 omed deep. 
 
 But they wait and wail and wander in vain and still in 
 vain, 
 
 Though they glory in the dimness, and are proud of very 
 pain ; 
 
 For a life of Titan struggle is but one sublime mistake, 
 
 While the spell-dream is upon them, and they cannot, 
 will not wake. 
 
 Awake, O thou that sleepest ! The Deliverer is near ! 
 
 Arise, go forth to meet Him! Bow down, for He is 
 here ! 
 
 Ye shall count your true existence from this first and 
 blesséd tryst, 
 
 For He waiteth to reveal Himself, the Very God in 
 Christ. 
 
 For the soul is never satisfied, the life is incomplete, 
 
 And the symphonies of sorrow find no cadence calm and 
 sweet, 
 
 And the earth-lights never lead us beyond the shadows ' 
 grim, 
 
 And the lone heart never resteth till it findeth rest in 
 Him. 
 
ay 
 
 THE KEY FOUND. 43% 
 
 
 
 Do ye doubt our feeble witness? Though ye scorn us, 
 come and see ! 
 
 Come and hear Him for yourselves, and ye shall know 
 that it is He! 
 
 Ye shall find in Him the Centre, the Very Truth and 
 Life, : 
 
 Resplendent resolution of the endless doubt and strife. 
 
 Ye shall find a perfect fitness with your highest, deepest 
 thought 
 
 In Him, the fair Ideal, that so long ye vainly sought, 
 
 In Him the grand Reality ye never found before, 
 
 In Him the Lord that ye must love, the God ye must 
 adore. 
 
 Ye shall find in Him the filling of the ‘‘aching void” 
 within ; 
 
 In Him the instant antidote for anguish and for sin ; 
 
 In Him the conscious meeting of the soul’s unuttered 
 need ; 
 
 In Him the Ad/ that ye have sought, the goal of life in- 
 deed. 
 
 As the light is to the eye, with its sensitive array 
 
 Of delicate adjustments with their finely balanced play, 
 
 With its instinct of perception, and its craving for the 
 light, 
 
 So is Jesus to the spirit, when He gives the inward sight.- 
 
 As the full and clear translation of some characters of 
 fate, 
 
 With their sibylline enfoldings, of dim mysterious 
 weight. 
 
438 CLOSING CHORDS. 
 
 And a haunting terror lest the real be darker than the 
 guessed ! 
 
 So is Jesus to the questions and enigmas of the breast. 
 
 As the key is to the lock, when it enters quick and 
 true, , 
 
 Fitting all the complex wards that are hidden from the 
 view, 
 
 Moving all the secret springs that no other finds or 
 moves, 
 
 So is Jesus to the soul, when His saving power He proves. 
 
 As the music to the ear, when the mightiest anthems 
 roll, 
 
 With its corridors conveying every echo to the soul, 
 
 With its exquisite discernment of vibration and of tone, 
 
 So is Jesus to the heart that is made for Him alone. — 
 
 No need to prove the sunshine when the eye receives the 
 light ; 
 
 When the cipher is deciphered we know the clue is right ; 
 
 The key is known by fitting the strange, intricate wards ; 
 
 And the ears must own the music when they recognize 
 the chords. 
 
 No need to prove a Saviour, when once the hearé believes, 
 
 And the light of God’s own glory in Jesus Christ re- 
 ceives ! 
 
 No need for weary puzzle, with heart-lore strange and 
 dim, 
 
 When we find our dark enigmas are simply solved in 
 Him ! 
 
«* PORGIVEN—EVEN UNTIL NOW.” 439 
 
 We cannot doubt our finding the very Key indeed, 
 
 When Jesus fills up every void, responds to every need, 
 
 When all the secrets of our hearts before Him are re- 
 vealed, 
 
 And all the mystery of life, alone with Him unsealed. 
 
 We cannot doubt, when once the ear of listening faith 
 has heard | 
 
 With all-responsive thrill of love, the music of His word ! 
 
 He gives the witness that excels all argument or sign,— 
 
 When we have heard it for ourselves we know it is 
 Divine ! 
 
 And then, oh, then the wail is stilled, the wandering is 
 o’er, 
 The rest is gained, the certainty that never wavers more ; 
 And then the full, unquivering praise arises glad and 
 strong, 
 And life becomes the prelude of the everlasting song ! 
 December 14th, 1878.* 
 
 
 
 “ FORGIVEN—EVEN UNTIL NOW.” 
 Num. xiv. 19. 
 <““r THOU hast forgiven—even until now 
 We bless Thee, Lord, for this, 
 And take Thy great forgiveness as we bow 
 In depth of sorrowing bliss ; 
 
 {9 
 
 
 
 * Her last birthday. 
 
440 CLOSING CHORDS. 
 
 
 
 While over all the long, regretful past 
 This veil of wondrous grace Thy sovereign hand doth 
 cast. 
 
 ‘Forgiven until now!” For Jesus died 
 To take our sins away ; 
 His blood was shed, and still the infinite tide 
 Flows full and deep to-day. 
 He paid the debt ; we own it, and go free ! 
 The canceled bond is aie in Love’s unfathomed sea. 
 
 ‘Forgiven until now!” For God is true; 
 Faithful and just is He ! 
 Forgiving, cleansing, making all things new ! 
 ‘¢ Who is a God like Thee ?” 
 O precious blood of Christ that saves and heals ! 
 While all its cleansing might the Holy Ghost reveals. 
 
 Yes, ‘even until now!” And so we stand, 
 Forgiven, loved, and blessed, 
 And, covered in the shadow of God’s hand, 
 Believing, are at rest. 
 The one great load is lifted from the soul, 
 That henceforth on the Lord all burdens we may roll. 
 
 Yes, ‘‘even until now!” Then let us press 
 With free and willing feet 
 Along the King’s highway of holiness, 
 Until we gain the street 
 Of golden crystal, praising purely when 
 We see our pardoning Lord ; forgiven until then ! 
 
 New. Year’s Day, 1879. 
 
THE SONG OF A SUMMER STREAM. 441 
 
 THE SONG OF A SUMMER STREAM. 
 
 A FEW months ago 
 I was singing through the snow, 
 
 Though the dead brown boughs gave no hope of summer 
 | shoots, 
 And my persevering fall 
 Seemed to be no use at all, 
 For the hard, hard frost would not let me reach the 
 roots. 
 
 Then the mists hung chill 
 All along the wooded hill, 
 And the cold, sad fog through my lonely dingles crept ; 
 I was glad I had no power 
 To awake one tender flower 
 To a sure, swift doom! I would rather that it slept. 
 
 Still I sang all alone 
 In the sweet old summer tone, 
 For the strong white ice could not hush me for a day ; 
 Though no other voice was heard 
 But the bitter breeze that whirred 
 Past the gaunt, gray trunks on its wild and angry way. 
 
 So the dim days sped, 
 While everything seemed dead, 
 And my own poor flow seemed the only living sign ; 
 And the keen stars shone 
 When the freezing night came on, 
 From the far, far heights, all so cold and crystalline. 
 
442 CLOSING CHORDS. 
 
 
 
 
 
 A. few months ago 
 I was singing through the “now ! 
 But now the blessed sunshine is filling all the land, 
 And the memories are lost 
 Of the winter fog and frost, 
 In the presence of the summer with her full and glow- 
 ing hand. 
 
 Now the woodlark comes to drink 
 At my cool and pearly brink, 
 And the ladyfern is bending to kiss my rainbow foam ; 
 And the wild rosebuds entwine 
 With the dark-leaved bramble-vine, 
 And the centuried oak is green around the bright-eyed 
 squirrel’s home. 
 
 Oh, the full and glad content 
 That my little song is blent 
 With the all-melodious mingling of the choristers 
 around ! 
 I no longer sing alone 
 Through a chill surrounding moan, 
 For the very air is trembling with its wealth of summer 
 ‘sound. 
 
 Though the hope seemed long deferred, 
 Ere the south wind’s whisper heard 
 Gave a promise of the passing of the weary winter days, 
 Yet the blessing was secure, 
 For the summer time was sure, 
 When the lonely songs are gathered in the mighty choir 
 of praise. february 18th, 1879, 
 
“©THE SCRIPTURE CANNOT BE BROKEN.” 443 
 
 WORE, 
 \ \ . HAT though the blossom fall and die ? 
 The flower is not the root ; 
 
 The sun of love may ripen yet 
 The Master’s pleasant fruit. 
 
 What though by many a sinful fall 
 Thy garments are defiled ? 
 
 A Saviour’s blood can cleanse them all ; 
 Fear not! thou art His child. 
 
 Arise! and leaning on His strength, 
 Thy weakness shall be strong ; 
 
 And He will teach thy heart at length 
 A new, perpetual song. 
 
 Arise! to follow in His track 
 Each holy footprint clear, 
 
 And on an upward course look back 
 With every brightening year. 
 
 Arise ! and on thy future way 
 His blessing with thee be ! 
 
 His presence be thy staff and stay, 
 Till thou His glory see. 
 
 
 
 "THE SCRIPTURE CANNOT BE BROKEN.” 
 JOHN X. 35. 
 
 PON the Word I rest 
 Each pilgrim day ; 
 
444 CLOSING CHORDS. 
 
 This golden staff is best 
 
 For all the way. 
 What Jesus Christ hath spoken 
 Cannot be broken ! 
 
 Upon the Word I rest, 
 So strong, so sure ; 
 
 So full of comfort blest, 
 So sweet, so pure ! 
 
 The charter of salvation, 
 
 Faith’s broad foundation. 
 
 Upon the Word I stand ! 
 That cannot die ! 
 
 Christ seals it in my hand; 
 
 ~ He cannot lie! 
 
 The Word that faileth never ! 
 
 Abiding ever ! 
 
 Chorus.—The Master hath said it! Rejoicing in this, 
 We ask not for sign or for token ; 
 His word is enough for our confident bliss, 
 “<The Scripture cannot be broken !” 
 April, 1879. 
 
 
 
 NOTHING 107A 
 N OTHING to pay! Ah, nothing to pay! 
 Never a word of excuse to say ! 
 
 Year after year thou hast filled the score, 
 Owing thy Lord still more and more. 
 
THE SEED OF SONG. 44% 
 
 
 
 Hear the voice of Jesus say, 
 “* Verily thou hast nothing to pay ! 
 Ruined, lost, art thou, and yet 
 I forgave thee all that debt.” 
 
 Nothing to pay! the debt is so great ;__ 
 
 _ What will you do with the awful weight ? 
 
 How shall the way of escape be made ? 
 
 Nothing to pay ! yet it must be paid ! 
 Hear the voice of Jesus say, 
 
 «Verily thou hast nothing to pay ! 
 
 All has been put to My account, Z 
 
 I have paid: the full amount.” 
 
 Nothing to pay ; yes, nothing to pay! 
 
 Jesus has cleared all the debt away, 
 
 Blotted it out with His bleeding hand ! 
 Free and forgiven and loved you stand. 
 
 Hear the voice of Jesus say, 
 
 ‘Verily thou hast nothing to pay ! 
 
 Paid is the debt, and the debtor free ! 
 
 Now I ask thee, lovest thou ME?” 
 
 April, 1879. 
 
 THE SEED OF SONG. 
 
 HE seed of song was cast 
 On the listening hearts around, 
 And the sweetly winning sound 
 In a few short minutes passed. 
 
446 
 
 CLOSING CHORDS. 
 
 But a song of perfect praise, 
 And a song of perfect love, 
 Was the harvest after many days, 
 Beneath the everlasting rays 
 Of the summer-time above. 
 
 The seed of a single word 
 Fell among the furrows deep, 
 In their silent, wintry sleep, 
 And the sower never an echo heard. 
 But the ‘“‘Come!” was not in yain, 
 _For that germ of Life and Love, 
 And the blessed Spirit’s quickening rain, 
 Made a golden sheaf of precious grain 
 For the Harvest Home above. — 
 
 Will you not sow that song ? 
 Will you not drop that word, 
 Till the coldest hearts be stirred 
 From their slumber deep and long ? 
 Then your harvest shall abound 
 With rejoicing full and grand, 
 Where the heavenly summer-songs resound, 
 And the fruits of faithful work are found 
 In the Glorious Holy Land. 
 
 
 
 BEHOLD YOUR KING! 
 
 ‘‘ Behold, and see if there be any sorrow like unto My sorrow.’—LaAm. i. 12. 
 
 EHOLD your King! Though the moonlight steals 
 Through the silvery sprays of the olive tree, 
 
‘HE SUFFERED.” A4Y 
 
 No star-gemmed sceptre or crown it reveals 
 In the solemn shade of Gethsemane. 
 Only a form of prostrate grief, 
 Fallen, crushed, like a broken leaf ! 
 Oh, think of His sorrow ! that we may know 
 The depth of love in the depth of woe! 
 
 Behold your King! Is it nothing to you 
 That the crimson tokens of agony 
 From the kingly brow must fall like dew, 
 Through the shuddering shades of Gethsemane ? 
 Jesus himself, the Prince of Life, 
 Bows in mysterious mortal strife ; 
 Oh, think of His sorrow ! that we may know 
 The unknown love in the unknown woe ! 
 
 Behold your King! With His sorrow crowned, 
 Alone, alone in the valley is He! 
 The shadows of death are gathering round, 
 And the Cross must follow Gethsemane. 
 Darker and darker the gloom must fall. 
 Filled is the Cup, He must drink it all! 
 Oh, think of His sorrow, that we may know 
 
 His wondrous love in his wondrous woe ! 
 Good Friday, 1879. 
 
 
 
 “HE SUFFERED.” 
 
 cs E suffered!” Was it, Lord, indeed for me, 
 The Just One for the unjust, Thou didst bear 
 The weight of sorrow that I hardly dare 
 
448 CLOSING CHORDS. 
 
 To look upon, in dark Gethsemane ? 
 
 ‘* He suffered !” .Thou, my near and gracious Friend, 
 And yet my Lord, my God! Thon didst not shrink 
 For me that full and fearful cup to drink, 
 
 Because Thou lovedst even to the end ! 
 
 “‘He suffered !” Saviour, was Thy love so vast 
 That mysteries of unknown agony, 
 
 Even unto death, its only gauge could be, 
 
 Unmeasured as the fiery depths it passed ? 
 
 Lord, by the sorrows of Gethsemane 
 
 Seal Thou my quivering love forever unto Thee. 
 1879. 
 
 
 
 ooo 
 
 EASTER DAWWN.* 
 
 T is too calm to be a dream, 
 Too gravely sweet, too full of power, 
 
 Prayer changed to praise this very hour ! 
 Yes, heard and answered ! though it seem 
 Beyond the hope of yesterday, 
 Beyond the faith that dared to pray, 
 Yet not beyond the love that heard, 
 And not beyond the faithful word 
 On which each trembling prayer may rest, 
 And win the answer truly best. 
 
 Yes, heard and answered ! sought and found ! 
 I breathe a golden atmosphere 
 Of solemn joy, and seem to hear 
 
 Within, above, and all around, 
 
 —— 
 
 
 
 
 
 * [Written in pencil the early dawn of her last Easter Day, April, 1879.] 
 
i 8 
 
 AN BASTER PRAYER. A49 
 
 The chime of deep cathedral bells, 
 
 An early herald peal that tells 
 
 A glorious Haster tide begun ; 
 
 While yet are sparkling in the sun 
 
 Large raindrops of the night storm passed, 
 And days of Lent are gone at last. 
 
 LIFE FOR JESUS. 
 
 “The love of Christ constraineth us. . . He died for all, that they wnich 
 live should not live henceforth unto themselves, but unto Him which died for them, 
 
 and rose again.’’—2 Cor. v. 14, 15. 
 E is come to claim His throne, 
 And to make thy life His own. 
 Voices of this passing earth, 
 Echoes of its praise or mirth, 
 Reach not where the heart hath heard 
 Golden music of His word. 
 << All for Jesus ” henceforth be ! 
 Live for Him who died for thee ! 
 
 
 
 AN EASTER PRAYER. 
 
 H, let me know 
 The power of Thy resurrection ; 
 
 Oh, let me show 
 Thy risen life in calm and clear reflection : 
 
 29 
 
- 450 
 
 CLOSING CHORDS. 
 
 
 
 Oh, let me soar 
 
 Where Thou, my Saviour Christ, art gone before ; 
 In mind and heart 
 
 Let me dwell always, only, where Thou art. 
 
 Oh, let me give 
 Out of the gifts Thou freely givest ; 
 Oh, let me live 
 
 With life abundantly pecause Thou livest ; 
 
 Oh, make me shine 
 
 In darkest places, for Thy light is mine ; 
 Oh, let me be 
 
 A faithful witness for Thy truth and Thee. 
 
 Oh, let me show 
 The strong reality of gospel story ; 
 Oh, let me go 
 From strength to strength, from glory unto glory ; 
 Oh, let me sing 
 For very joy, because Thou art my King ; 
 Oh, let me praise 
 Thy love and faithfulness through all my days. 
 
 
 
 STILLNESS. 
 
 ‘* Be quiet : fear not.”’—Isa. vii. 4. 
 
 Apes layest Thine hand on the fluttering heart, 
 
 And sayest “ Be still !” 
 
 The shadow and silence are only a part 
 
 Of Thy sweet will ; 
 
 Thy presence is with me, and where Thou art 
 
 J fear no ill. 
 

 
 UNFINISHED FRAGMENTS. ia 451 
 
 
 
 “BEHOLD THE BRIDEGROOM COMETH!” 
 
 MATT, xxv. 6. 
 
 HERALD whisper falling 
 Upon the passing night, 
 Mysteriously calling ° 
 The children of the light ! 
 
 He cometh : oh, He cometh ! 
 Our own belovéd Lord ! 
 
 This blesséd hope up-summeth 
 Our undeserved reward. 
 
 He cometh ! though the hour 
 
 Nor earth nor heaven may know, 
 Sure is the word of power, 
 
 **He cometh!” Even so! 
 
 
 
 UNFINISHED FRAGMENTS. 
 
 ‘eae Master will guide the weary feet, 
 Choosing for each, and choosing aright, 
 The noontide rest in the summer heat ; 
 For some the glory of Alpine height, 
 For some the breezes fresh and free, 
 And the changeful charm of wave and sea; 
 For some the hush and the soothing spells 
 Of harvest fields and woodland dells ; 
 For some it may be the quiet gloom 
 Of the suffering couch and the shaded room. 
 
452 CLOSING CHORDS. 
 
 Master, our Master, oh, let it be | 
 That our leisure and rest be still with Thee, 
 With Thee and for Thee each sunny hour 
 
 e 
 
 II. 
 
 RISE, depart ! for this is not your rest !” 
 - The voice fell strangely on the sleeping fold, 
 As fell the starlight’s quivering gold 
 Upon the dusky lake’s untroubled breast. 
 And yet the Shepherd’s hand had led them there, 
 And made them to lie down amid the pastures fair. 
 
 «¢ Arise ye, and depart !” ‘The morning rays 
 Lit up the emerald slope and crystal pool, 
 Sweet sustenance for many days, : 
 And quiet resting places, calm and cool. 
 They knew not why nor whither, yet they went ! 
 His own hand put them forth, and so.they were content. 
 
 And so they followed Him, they could not stay 
 When He had risen, the eae is and fair. 
 
 a Pes) ee 1879. 
 
 THE END. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 PAGE 
 CL a Sa 86 
 RTM es csv cred cvs ives 233 
 MOMENI AMOS. occ cise sccccssscance 52 
 EMOCEWATOS 2... ck ese nese cceves 337 
 eee Great Mystery. ....7.0. 02.20. 164 
 A Happy New Year to Youw!l....... 386 
 SSO ee Fee ene 271 
 PEPPERS EALO, Se osc cece diac aee es 230 
 PyneriasberePrayer..:..-.ccssse-es 449 
 6p 1) C  C 286 
 PRUE OOM CAE oc. col secs si senses 413 
 SMM nec nis gs Eis cals doe eee 369 
 Weecension Song ..................6 50 
 A Silence and a Song.............. 60 
 Avsone inthe Night. ..¢5.i5.5..... 383 
 meee DO-MOht.: o.oo. 0 8 Sse 401 
 6 5 
 POOLED Ss PFAVeL <2. .0.-sca0s< 58 
 SE a a 3897 
 
 ** Behold, the Bridegroom Com- 
 
 CULL GE Sele ea a 451 
 Behold your King !.=—........... 446 
 ** Bells across the Snow’’.......... 121 
 Bonnie wee Eric................... 416 
 ** By Thy Cross and Passion”’..... 247 
 Sg ee 96 
 Wandlemas Day. ........2..0...0006 221 
 ehoseniin Christ. ..0.25. 00.06.02. 95 
 MnGsen Lessons)... 66 el sek ce ese 425 
 0 SEE 6 at ae a a aa 426 
 EC) a 200 
 Church Missionary Jubilee Hymn.. 385 
 Coming Summer.................. 176 
 
 PAGE 
 Coming-to the King... c5...% eves 341 
 COMPONsAtlOw ey) ..c.as oeisitess-witere la Se 10 
 Coniitlencoawn. sac cee niwiore tts 26 41 
 Consecration Hymn................ 235 
 WONBOME Sera sos alse tes +46 cevduels secs 167 
 Daily StrenoGhs actees ds os ne Seee ee 213 
 Dissppomiment. ...4: 1c oes eats 146 
 ream Simone ni. cee tes wee ce 126 
 ar] reds ALUN ta a)are sis. sxe 01810 cies aielsieleveas 181 
 PU ASLOR SLAW certs cence en cigarette 448 
 Echoes from the Word............ 431 
 BEM OU Sec rarate areal iskiic esate este avoeee 270 
 Evening Tears and Morning 
 WOM SNE ate sue oan ei meats 105 
 Everlasting Blessings.............. 85 
 Hiverlastings Love. ...4..02. 0.26 ses 218 
 “eve Hath NOt SCD.” sos. saneceieie 108 
 MadGh SHO ARCASON'. 2 eters ee ee sec 228 
 Faithful Promises 2.0. .6s.06.028% 89 
 Paith' Ss: Question, .20c.s ce teetmaele 201 
 Har more; Mxceeding., 2. ese. es 347 
 AED Lian hee rasemeet ne a apes aters etal cree temneere 263 
 WEIS Age Beth she ae Gore geceee See 423 
 “ Forgiven—even until Now”’..... 439 
 U Wree: LOASELVGll 2. semen s scence 829 
 BreshoSpripngsne.. st. cece sew ees 87 
 “From: Glory to Glory ...0.. <t.56 407 
 CGLOPITLOCY coricrt otee aetis Saito oe aa aioetce 99 
 God's iMessage.m 2 eae: oe = cele givens 219 
 God the Provider. .....00'2. i.) 00.00% 197 
 GLO WIND? stars, ool nore + ctetesre a ste sioareisatorat 261 
 

 
 A54 INDEX. 
 PAGE PAGE 
 ‘* Have you not a Word fordesus?”’ 54 More Musics... 22: eee ese 203 
 Heather: 2inties ss... 0 eee eee 123 ‘* Most Blesséd Forever”’.......... 422 
 He hath done it!....... Peed eh ea) Oe, 427° My Master... 25.552 278 
 Hesithyiuifesmieeccs seen tae 268 
 Hens by orde pests ceases ee 46 Nobody knows but Jesus.......... 266 
 Her: Birthday:2 ee}. a cs oan rae 211: Not Forsaken = 2222.22 eee eee 103 
 Te HG) SUTLETCC a yee ee eee ee 447. Nothing to Pay lo asc. eee eee 444 
 Piddenieiny Wai o inl Se eee tere eer 46 No Thorn without a Rose.......... 195 
 Hitherto and Henceforth........... 426 Not yet... cee eee 150 
 HODES csc ox relos ore ace eer rear eeeeer 443 Not your'own..:2 00. -es-eaeee 2a eld 
 How should they know me ?....... 22° [SNOW 1s ae eee 402 
 ‘How. Wondertulile seme eecer see 67 Now and Afterward274-.. o..eeeee 101 
 Tam with thee.s nck ad: eee eee 276 ODIs .ccns ane acee ee ee ee 272 
 I could not do without Thee....... 42. Only for Jesus eee eee 829 
 “[ did this for thee; what hast On the. Lord’s’Side™ 2302.2 eee 243 
 thou. done for Me?™..s.2:258 188 Our Father<..):25. ee 183 
 Increase. our Faiths eens ee tee 264 Our Hidden Leaves................ 135 
 I Remember Thee................. 251 Our King 2c. Se ee eee 49 
 Tsai gh xxx ieee cies eee 190. Our Red-Letier Days.2 35-2 872 
 Isvitior Me ar eoe neces er ares 44 
 Peace. 5 occ Saree ene ee ene eee 161 
 SC JESNS-ODVag eee eee 44 Peaceable’ Fruit... -ee eee 107 
 JOMEd StOmChriste.. wea eet 98 Perfect Peacé2.. see eee 275 
 July on the Mountains ............ 398 Precious" Things see. pees 858 
 Justified fice hs tee one meee eee 97 Prelude: 22 3.22 e4eee eee eee 129 
 Just when Thow wilt 72.22.62 o.ten 285 
 Reality ...)15ssG¢ekee te eee ee 343 
 KNOW ie cones eerec i eteiaends 253 (Remote, Results’): te. nace eee 216 
 Reet... 00). sy he Scere 155 
 Leaning over the Waterfall........ 375 Resting. ....2.. osc anes 262 
 Dife-Crystala. icin acues eine aecieaete 158° Right 15220. sosae eee eee 111 
 Life for) €Su8 =o. sa.scesee ene 449 
 TAfe=M OS8aiC. edna oe ee eee 1 September; 1S68:° 79.69. eee 179 
 Light and..Shadew, ..c.6 ea. erencee 192 Set Apart. 2.3... 50us see 286 
 hightat Wventid@ ss ase aese ee ee 399 She waits for Me 273... eecn eee 127 
 Listening in Darkness— Speaking Shining <3. 3. oecene eee 257 
 In Lichtin. cox ouar ete eee 104 Silent in Love 2. 2a.cne see 191 
 Looking untors esus- eee. .ceee ss cee 256 Singing at Sunset-.2.09. een eeee ees 122 
 Love for uoyer ss ic. Ghee comes 422 Singing for Jesus: ... ae eeeeee 59 
 Stillmess. ........)..ceseue eee 450 
 Making: POGtrycs sat chraelsemlceeen 225 Sunbeam and Dewdrop............ 125 
 eS Master usay. Ol? see aeaeeee 214° ‘Sunday Nicht.) es. aeeneee eee 339 
 Mischiel Making so .2cccee emoniee 372 Sunset ......2)..0.00e eee 420 
 Misunderstood a. eee eneneeae 170 
 

 
 
 
 INDEX. 455 
 PAGE PAGE 
 een. OGL. 23.5.6... sonication ge 66 The Thoughts of God..... ........ 287 
 peremmpiea ano Iried............ 102° ‘Fhe: Triune Presence 2.25 ..4...052 93 
 PRN TIO a oi cee ences one dbky ie Two Pathses cou} oe. rl. 3855 
 The Awakening....... "S60 cree eae 376 The Turned Lesson..... .......... 367 
 The Children’s Triumph........... aids Phe Uniailing Ones. os... bs iy. 241 
 STEN COCV USES? 6 108 The Voice of many Waters........ 332 
 The Coming of the Healer,........ 63 Thine is the Power...............- 36 
 ~The Essential Blessedness of God.. 85 This same Jesus................... 209 
 The Eternity of God...........500 So eLTeelold Praises a eee ee 137 
 The Faithful Comforter........... lee DV eRUCLE nace a ete ee ne 283 
 nercreant Teacncr, ... 5s. .se ects en IpOme Bye Wall’ besdone-% <2. oe. ac She 206 
 The tntinity of God... .......6... DEI Va ORES ia. oh ieee ds oe ic daa 365 
 2 AE Mabe teg NOE. odin 2 aS Me hehe ne «eee 39 
 Mie uill-of Mternity............6.. Gig reasure LOVE ccc cnn s cece 175 
 The Message of an AXolian Harp... 387 Tried, Precious, Sure.............. 284 
 The Ministry of Intercession, ...... 822 True-hearted, Whole-hearted ...... 245 
 The Ministry of Song......1......- Joe. Erustr and mistrust: one cee sis os fears 27 
 The Moonlight Sonata............. Be ee SU COUR e.g weeks veered 255 
 The Opened Fountain............. 248 
 GePE MC MEVCAIGY ....6.. 55.222 wee vs 0s 39 ‘‘Under His Shadow”’............. 92 
 The Precious Blood of Jesus....... 250 Under the Surface................. 3 
 PENA DIELS VVIAY). ian clocic sess ce cece 204 Unfinished Fragments............. 451 
 “The Scripture cannot be Broken”? 443 
 The Secret of a Happy Day........ 238 ‘Vessels of Mercy, pr: pared unto 
 eiHerSeed OL BODE... ooccPancsss ease 445 GOT iar eotes. een Net abn cone cee 3878 
 *‘The Shining Light, that Shineth,” Voices—of Twilight—of Dawn..... 430 
 BT ac HRC Re BEE ee 412 
 pp ePOORANCE. i. 5... cases eee 149 Wait Patiently for Him............ 208 
 The Song of a Summer Stream.... 441 What Thou wilt................... 429 
 Pees ONO OF LOVE... cc. s-.. 0020, 418 What will you do without Him ?... 380 
 The Sovereignty of God........... O45 Willyoumot Come ur. j200.6.0.03 414 
 RIPEN OLS cof oiajn ic vis Sb cies oo v0 eisieie 71 Without Carefulness............... 279 
 The Splendor of God's Will........ SOU) Me VOUT MEMS ctastclevens. sicrett ci ares Goriciens 159 
 The Spirituality of God............ 32 
 The Star-Shower ............s..00- Dies DEM. ccagasvceta ys ahedaedt senate 302 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 
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