'MA 9 ifiSIiill ou$tl)Qlls of Jfattfj, AND £aj?s of tin better £an& Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2013 http://archive.org/details/householOOwill yffl it / FOR €jje Jtotjate uf jfuiflf, AND $aj« d i\t ktkx iTwifc Thanksgiving and the Voice of aIelodt. LONDON • WEHTHEIM, MACINTOSH, and HUNT. 24, Paternoster Eow, and 23, Hollfs Street, Cavendish Square. 1861 PREFACE This Volume is not intended to be a collection of Hymns or Sacred Poetry already well known and popular — such as are in every one's hands, and have become household words in Christian homes ; but it is rather a volume of Devotional Poetry, some published now for the first time, and much of it from sources not generally known, brought together to illustrate and adorn some Gospel theme or precious promise, on which the believer loves to dwell. Many new trans- lations of beautiful German hymns of daily life, and several noble Mediaeval hymns of praise, together with some sweet flowers of native growth, "things new and old" will be found in these pages — " Songs for all seasons" — suited to the various circumstances of the outer and inner life of the Christian pilgrim ; — " a fountain of gardens, a well of living waters, and VI PREFACE. streams from Lebanon/' to refresh him as he journeys through this world's waste to his Father's home of peace and love ; or, to borrow another metaphor from " the Song of Songs/' A garden enclosed full of pleasant fruit, with all trees of frankincense, myrrh, and aloes, with all the chief spices, only waiting the breath of the Beloved to blow upon it, that its perfume may flow out ! fOfC^ The Editor begs to return thanks to the kind friends who have contributed original compositions and new translations of German hymns to enrich this volume, as also to the authors and publishers who have so courteously allowed their published works and copy- rights to be made use of for the same purpose. Among these must be named, with grateful acknowledgment, The Eev. J. D. Burns, author of " The Vision of Prophecy," (Eclmonston and Douglas, Edinburgh) ; The Eev. H. Boxar, author of " Hyms of Faith and Love ; " J. B. Monsell, author of " Parish Musings ;" Miss Winkwobth, author of "Lyra Germanica," (Longman and Co.); the accomplished Author of "The Voice of Christian Life in Song," and "The Three Wakings," (Nisbet and Co.), to whom every lover of hymns must feel indebted ; the Author of " Hymns from the Land of Luther," (Kennedy, Edin- burgh) ; Miss Proctor, author of " Legends and Hymns," (Bell and Dahhj, London); and Mr. Yapp, the publisher of "Whispers in the Palms," (by Anna Shiptost.) Doubtless these Christian friends, and many others whose names are not here mentioned, but whose works have contributed to enrich this collection, will be pleased to learn that they are thus helping to water a feeble Vlll plant which needs the aid of kindly hands, as well as the sun and air of heaven to bring its fruit to perfection. Probably few of those into whose hands this little volume may chance to fall have heard of so humble a domicile as the Orphan Home, at Headingley, near Leeds ; the object of which is to receive destitute female children, picked up in " the lanes and alleys" of our crowded towns, — infant Lazaruses left to perish at rich men's gates, or to live to become a curse to themselves, and all around them ; to collect these poor wanderers on the world's highway into Christian Homes, to train them on the family system, and fit them for future usefulness, is what is now attempted ; the principle of Orphan Homes might be indefinitely extended, if labourers could be found. Any brother or sister in the Lord desiring to lend a helping hand in this " labour of love," — to secure "the blessing of him ready to perish," — and to assist in leading these stray Lambs to the Good Shepherd, are invited to co- operate in a work, where, indeed, the harvest is great, but few and feeble the hands found to reap it. Any profits accruing to the Editor will be devoted to this cause. Further information respecting the Orphan Home at Headingley, can be had by a line addressed to the publishers, who will forward any communications to the Managers, who will be glad to answer all enquiries. " Lovest thou Me ? " " Feed My Lambs." INDEX OF SUBJECTS. PAGE TRUTH i Before Thy mystic altar - Sir W. Jones. 1 Lines on. --------- 2 Strive for - FAITH. 4 Blessedness of those who believe and have not seen r > For the Epiphany - M. G. T. - 6 Sonnet on - H. M. Rathbone 8 Weak Faith 9 Exhortation to Faith - Chandler - 9 " Increase our Faith " - - Hinds 10 The Efficacy of Faith - - - Ibid - 11 Faith worketh by love - - - J. IX Burns - 12 LOVE 13 Tell me, my wishing soul - - Quarks - 13 What Love is - 14 The Loving One -------- 14 Love keeping Watch - Hinds - 15 Love springing from Forgiveness - J, A. E. - 16 The Law of Love - R C. Trench 18 Exite Sion Filise - - - C. Neale - 19 Give A. A. Proctor 20 This is not your rest - Lord Glenehj - 21 Who is my Neighbour ? 23 Stores of Love - ------- 25 Eichter of Weisse in his Old Age. - 26 The Service of the Lord 27 The Christian Warrior - Chandler - 29 The Battle Won - - - J. B. Monsell - 30 TRUST - ------ 31 The Soul committing itself to God Neumarck - 32 He shall direct thy Paths - - Lord Glenelg 33 I will fear no evil - - - - A. L. Waring - 35 INDEX OF SUBJECTS. My Father is the Mighty Lord - - Lange The Well at Sychar - - From The Three Wakings " Soon and for ever " - - - J. B. Monsell God's will is best - Faber PRAYEE Description of - The Key of Morning and Lock of Night Pray without ceasing - Sonnet on Their strength is to sit still The Mercy Seat - " Ask and it shall be given yon " Ye receive not because ye ask amiss Counsel to a Soldier - - Praise and Prayer - The Blessed Rest Montgomery - Montgomery Hemans R. C. Trench J. B. Monsell Hinds - Pritchard Hymns from the Land of Luther - Ibid- " Watch and Pray that ye enter not into temptation v - - - - E. Elliot Jesus had not where to lay His head La Trobe CHRIST PRECIOUS - Christ Precious. - Christ's Invitation accepted Union with Christ - " Now mine eye seeth Thee " God in Christ The Condescension of Christ A little Bird I am Rest in Christ All my desire - THE CHRISTIAN LIFE The Christian Life - Running the Race Doers not hearers of the Word Samuel - On the Providence of God Abide with Me - Follow Me. - Growing in Grace - H. Bonar J, Deck. M J. Jeicsburv Hinds Guyon e. a B. - Thomas Gisborne J. B. Monsell - Caivood Paul Gerhard - F. Lyte R. C. Trench PAGE 36 37 38 39 41 41 42 43 44 44 45 4G 47 48 49 50 51 52 54 55 56 57 58 58 59 60 60 64 67 68 68 70 71 72 75 76 77 INDEX OF SUBJECTS. XI PAGE TRIBULATION -------- 79 Friend Sorrow - - - - - A. A. Proctor 80 Hue ad jugum Calvariae - DanieVs Hymnology 81 Jesus of Nazareth passeth by 83 The Sympathy of Jesus - Wilberforce - 84 The Pilgrim Fathers - - - Hinds - 85 How long. --------- Fr> The Son of Man hath not where to lay His head - - 87 Sonnet written in Old Age - Michael Angelo - 89 Confession of Unworthiness - - Trench - 89 The Cruise that faileth not - - The Three Wakings 90 Veiled Angels - Ibid - 92 " Lord help me." 93 Undertake for me ------- 95 My cup runneth over -------96 In the Field " - 98 Voice from a Parsonage - - T. - 100 SUBMISSION 103 Not as I will but as Thou wilt - H. Bonar - 104 The patient waiting for Christ - - Hinds - 105 The believing Wife - Ibid - 106 Ministry - From The Three Wakings 107 Faithfulness of God in Afflictions - J. B. Monsell - 108 Exaggeration - - - - E. B. Browning 109 Evening Song after a Day of Difficulty Mrs. Waring - 110 Christmas Bells - - - J. F. B. - 111 The Blind Man's Hymn - - - C.Elliot - 112 Longing for Home - - - H. J. J. - 114 "What pleases God - Paul Gerhard - 115 Security - - - - - J. B. Monsell 116 Pray ye that your flight - - - M. G. T. - 117 The Proud Heart - - - W. Hone - 119 CONSOLATION Consolation - - - - It shall be well with the Kighteous Despise not chastenings Rachael weeping for her children Kent J. D. Burns Hinds 120 121 121 122 123 Xll INDEX OF SUBJECTS. PAGE Ministering Angels - - - B. - 124 " He shall give His angels charge over thee" - - 126 The Sorrow of the World ------ 127 Peace in Jesus. ------- 129 Light in Darkness - Hymns from the Land of Luther 130 They that Sow in tears shall reap in joy, The Three Wakings 132 Thou niaintainest my lot - - A. L. Waring - 133 And there was no more sea - By the Author of The Moral of Flowers - - 134 At Evening time there shall be Light Montgomery 135 CONTENTMENT - 136 Cheerfulness - - - - E. B. Browning 137 On the Providence of God - Baxter - 137 Murmurs - - A, A. Proctor - 138 Lead Thou me on- - - - - - - 140 Murmurs R. C. Trench - 141 Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof Ibid. - 141 Aspects M. G. T. 142 " Blessed are the poor in spirit " - - W. W. How 143 Lay of Peace in Sickness. - 143 Lay of Peace - De Vere - 144 Song for the Wilderness - - - - - -145 MORNING & EVENING HYMNS - 147 Early Rising and Prayer - - - H. Vaughan - 148 Hymn for Sunday Morn - From Hymns for a Week 149 Evening Song for the Lord's day - Montgomery - 151 Hymn for Sunday Evening - C. Elliot - 152 Hymn for Monday Morning - Hymns for a Week 154 Evening Hymn - Paul Gerhard - 155 Ibid ----- From Hymns for a Week 157 Nearer Heaven - Carey - - 158 Evening Twilight ------- 159 For a Wakeful Night - Pastor Josephsen 160 He giveth His beloved sleep - - De Vere - 161 The Sleep of the beloved - - II. Bonar - 162 A Midnight Hymn -- 163 Ibid - De Vere - 165 INDEX OF SUBJECTS. XUl PAGE TIME 1G7 Redeeming the Time ------ 108 Now ! To-day ! - - - - A. A. Proctor - 168 Incentive to early rising ------ 169 Hora Novissima - Horatius Bonar 171 Behold I come quickly - J. Deck - 173 God calling yet - - Gerhard Tersteegen 174 The flight of time 175 RITES & ORDINANCES 178 Prayer for Baptism - - Translated by Miss Cox 179 Ibid B. Guest - 180 Baptism - - Alford - 181 Confirmation Hymn - Hinds - - 181 "This do in remembrance of me." - Montgomery 182 Hymn for Ordination - - - H.W. Longfellow 183 Hymn for a Marriage - - Translated by Miss Cox 184 Visitation of the Sick --- J.B.Monsell- 186 Death of a Believer - - - - J. D. Burns 186 PRAISE 189 It is good to sing Praises - - From the German 190 The earth is the Lord's 191 Gloriosi Salvatoris - 192 Omnisfidelis gaudeat - - - From Neale's Hymns 194 Praise of God's Providence - - Old Hymn - 195 Hymn of Praise 197 MISCELLANEOUS 198 The Fountain in the Desert - •• A. Shipton - 199 The Day Labourer - Ibid - 202 The Soul committing itself to God - Ibid - - 204 A Child's Prayer Ibid - 206 The Lambs of Christ - 207 The Promised Land A. Shipton 208 The Hermit of the Thebaid - J. G. Whittier 210 Tauler 214 A Student A. A. Proctor 217 "It might have been" 219 The Vaudois Valleys - - - - Hemans - 221 XIV INDEX OF SUBJECTS. PAGE Goldau J. Whytehead 223 Mont Blanc revisited - - - - J. Ruskin - 225 Lines on Visiting my Aged Parents - 226 The Gipsies - Stanley - - 228 Sowing and Eeaping - - - A. A. Proctor 229 Charging God foolishly - - - J. D. Burns - 230 Written in a Bible, a Present to a Godchild, Hinds - 232 The Little Child and the New Tear 234 Christian Endurance - M. Milnes - 235 Strive, Wait, and Pray - - - A. A. Proctor- 237 Nasci poena, vita labor B. Barton - 238 Opportunities L. N. R. - 238 One by One - - - - A. A. Proctor 240 The Present Ibid - - 241 Birthday Hymn 243 To a Beloved Child on her 16th Birthday - 244 To a Dear Child in the Faith on her 19th Birthday - 244 To Lunette on her 21st Birthday 245 Youth and Age 246 A Sermon from a Child ------ 248 The Everlasting Memorial - - II. Bonar - 249 DAYS OF CEEATION 251 1st „ H. Bonar - 252 2nd „ _.._-- T. Whytehead 253 3rd „ ... . Ibid- - 255 4th „ - - ... - Ibid - - 257 5th „ ... J hid- 260 6th „ Ibid. - - 261 7th . - - - Ibid- - 262 SCRIPTURE SCENES ------- 2(15 Jacob's Burial - - - J. D. Burns 266 Wells of Marah - 267 The Burial of Moses - - Whittier - 269 The Child Samuel ------- 272 Christ's Baptism - Chandler - 274 The Miracle of the Marriage Feast - Three Wakinys 275 IXDEX OF SUBJECTS. XV PAGE The Homeless Wanderer - - Russel - 276 Christ's Miracles - - 277 The Child set in the Midst 278 Raising the Widow's Son - Hamilton - 28< I Blind Bartimeus 282 Christ rebuking Peter A Song of the Disciples - - - M G. T. - 284 Jesus at the WeU of Sychar - - - - 287 Gennesaret - 289 The Woman that was a Sinner - - Hine - - 290 Christ in the Pharisee's house S. M. Waring 292 Peter Weeping - Ibid - - 293 The Disciple whom Jesus loved - - - - 294 MISCELLANEOUS 297 Walking in the fear of the Lord - J B. Monsell 298 The Hidden Cross - - - - A. L. Waring 299 Gustavus Adolphus' Battle Song - Three Wakings 303 Honour 304 Havelock 306 The Plight must Win - - - Faber - 307 Durable Riches - Three Wakings 310 Our One Life - - - - - - - 311 The Border Land - L. N. R. - 313 The Pearl 315 The Ivy— Charity - - - S. W. Partridge 318 The Stonecrop— Content with Little Ibid - 319 Love to our Enemies ------- 320 Words - - 320 Trifles 322 Song of the Redbreast - Evans - 324 The Cuckoo ----- Ibid - 326 The Petrel - - - - J. D. Bums 327 A Quiet Mind -------- 330 " Beareth aU things " - - - S. T. Coleridge 331 A Simile ------ Longfellow - 332 The Kingdom of God - - - Trench. - 333 The Race - - - M. (J. T. - 334 Christ our Example - Bowdler - 336 XVI INDEX OF SUBJECTS. The Unnamed Woman - Three Wakings 337 The Use of flowers - Ibid - 338 The Stranger - Hemans 339 Christ's Triumph after death - Giles Fletcher 340 With the lowly is wisdom - A. De Vere - 342 Vanity of the world II. Bonar - 342 A Starless Crown. - _ 344 The Fatal Decision - Mc Cheyne 345 He respecteth not persons Wordsworth - 346 The Household Darling - J. Prince - 347 The Reward of Christian Benevolence Mant - 350 The Abbot turned Anchorite - Barton 350 Cowper's Grave - E. B. Browning 353 ' The Crown - From the Three Wakings 357 " God shall wipe away all tears " M. G. T 358 Absolvo Te - . 360 " Out of the eater came forth meat." Faber 362 MEETING & PARTING - _ 363 I go to Life _____ J. B. Monsell - 364 The Meeting of Friends J. A. Elliot 365 The Meeting Place - H Bonar 366 My God I know that I must die B. Schmolk 368 Quis Separabit - H. Bonar 370 Parting - - Hymns from the Land, of Luther 371 The Long Goodnight Ibid - 373 The Day of Death ! - Trench 374 " Lord, if Thou hadst been here, my brother had not died " J. D. Bums 376 To a Friend departed - Ibid - 377 We bless Thee - Mill man - 378 A Requiem - J, D. Burns - 379 HOME ------ 381 " Our Father which art in heaven " - 382 The Christian Household - 382 Song of the Goldfinch Evans 384 De Gloria et Gaudiis Paradisi Wackerbath 387 A Mother to her Child - 389 INDEX OF SUBJECTS. XV11 PAGE The City of God 390 The World not the Christian's Home Mont - - 394 Song of the Sojourner - - Paul Gerhard 395 Here and There - Lange - 397 The True Home ------- 399 Going Home, Lange, from Hymns from the Land of Luther 401 " I have a desire to depart and be with Christ." - Translated by Miss Cox 403 The River of God 405 GATHERED FLOWERS 407 The Little Sleeper ... - Trench - 408 To my gathered Lily ------ 409 Paul Gerhard on the death of his Son J. D. Burns - 412 Only a Year - - - - H. B. Stowe 416 • ; It is well with the Child " - - Moultrie - 418 INDEX OF FIRST LINES. A. Abide with me ! fast falls the eventide A crowd to Jericho approach'd Again farewell A grain of sand Ah ! why you'll ask should A king for earthly wisdom prayed A light is breaking forth . . . A little bird I am A little while our Lord shall come All are not taken Alleluia ; best and sweetest All through the wild and starless night A most impressive change it must And shall we pray for our release A pilgrim and a stranger Are nature's charms all hidden Arise, for the day is passing Art thou so weak As April's suns and April's showers A smile in kindly eyes I see As oft with worn and weary feet A soldier's course from battle won As those that watch for the day . . . As yet the darkness and the day . . . At evening time let there be light At eve when o'er the lonely soul . . . Away o'er lake Eyrie's ripple 4 2 PAGE 75 282 50 322 389 232 6 60 173 121 197 284 350 117 395 112 168 79 244 243 84 68 95 257 135 219 2l>G XX INDEX OF FIRST LINES. B. PAGE Before thou wendest to the fray 48 Before thy mystic altar ... ... ... ... ... ... 1 Be not dismayed thou little flock 303 Birds have their quiet nest ... .. 87 By Marah's bitter fountains 267 By Nebo's lonely mountain 269 C. Child amidst the flowers at play 43 Christian, seek not yet repose ... ... ... ... ... 51 Christ to the young man said ... ... ... ... ... 183 Come to the morning prayer ... ... ... ... ... 42 Commit thy way to God 72 D. Daughter of faithful Abraham's race 244 Daughters of Zion seek your King ... ' ... ... ... 19 Do not cheat thy heart and tell her ... ... ... ... 80 Do not crouch to-day and worship 241 E. Earth is no home of thine 394 "Earth to earth" 379 Fair is our Zion's Promised Land 208 Far down the ages now 171 Far on yon heath ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 15 Far out at sea 327 Father, for pleasant paths on earth 204 Father, my way is dark and wild 85 Fear! yea truly, Lord 298 Fighting the battle of life 98 From a vexatious heavy load set free 89 INDEX OF FIRST LINES. XXI PAGE Gently I took that which ungently came 331 Give smiles to thein whose hearts are glad 199 Go and let my grave be made ... ... ... ... ... 403 God calling yet 174 God from His throne above the skies ... ... ... ... 336 Go find a friend ! 315 God might have made the earth bring forth ... . . ... 338 Go traveller to the pastoral vales 221 Hail tranquil hour of closing day 159 Heavenly Father, may Thy love ... ... ... ... ... 180 He giveth His beloved sleep ... 161 He is gone. Heaven's will is best 306 Here may the band that now ..; 340 He strays — how far to Thee alone ... .. ... ... 106 He taught the cheerfulness 26 Honour is tender human love 304 How blessed from the bonds of sin 27 How blest when parted through the day... ... ... ... 45 How busily thou weav'st thy 318 How little and how lightly ... ... ... ... ... 13 How much that genius boasts ... ... ... ... ... 342 How oft we fret for time's delays... ... ... ... ... 167 How views the youth 246 How wearily and drearily ... ... ... ... ... ... 324 How weary and how worthless 130 Hushed was the evening hymn ... 272 Hush, hush, my soul 103 I. I call my little child ... 8 If grief in heaven could be ... ... ... ... ••• 344 I go to life 364 I have a son, a darling son ... ... 418 XX11 INDEX OF FIRST LINES, I have a treasure which I prize . . . I have been to a land I heard the voice of Jesus say I journey forth rejoicing ... I journey through a desert drear and wil I kiss thy brow I knew a mother whose fair boy ... I met a fair young child ... I never heard In heavenly love abiding ... In Israel's fane by silent night In Thee I live and move and am ... In the mid silence of the voiceless night In token that thou shalt not fear . . . I say to thee do thou repeat I sing to my mate on her mossy nest I slept and dreamt ... Is thy cruise of comfort wasting ? It could not be ; no light from heaven I think we are too ready with complaint It is a place where poets crowned It was a time of sadness ... I've found the Pearl of greatest price I worship Thee, sweet Will of God PAGE 330 313 56 373 145 358 105 382 362 35 71 195 165 181 333 384 67 90 230 137 353 299 55 39 Jesus Lord, Thy servants see Jesus, my best and heavenly Friend 179 114 Last of Creation's Days Leave God to order all thy ways .. Let every faithful heart rejoice . . " Let there be light," Jehovah said Life is but a weary chafing Little Ella, fairest, dearest... Lord, a happy child of Thine 261 32 194 252 142 347 110 INDEX OF FIRST LINES. XX111 PAGE Lord Jesus, are we one with Thee ? 57 Lord, many times 89 Lord of the lords of all the earth 191 Lord, shall thy children come 181 Lose one day loitering 168 Love is the source of breath and life 14 M, Mark that long line of shadows 238 Millions within Thy courts have met 151 Mortal that standest on a point of time 235 Mother, said little Isabel 248 My Father and my God 108 My Father is the Mighty Lord 36 My God ! I know that I must die 368 My God, I thank Thee 25 My God, it is not fretfulness 86 My Lord hath taught me how to want 137 My lovely little Lily 409 My poor heart clung to earth 59 My soul, thy gold is true 79 My task is o'er, my work is done 30 N. Nay, 'tis not as we fancied 342 No mother's eye beside thee wakes to-night 408 Now all the woods are lulled to rest 155 Now darkness over all is spread 160 Now Jacob rests where all his kindred are 266 Now let our heavenly plants 154 Now one day's journey less divides 157 Now stately womanhood has set 245 O. O'er many a weary mile 399 O'er the dark wave of Galilee 276 faint and feeble-hearted 8 Oft had I prayed 47 XXIV INDEX OF FIRST LINES. God of Truth O happy home ; where thou art loved Oh how soft that bed must be say not that the boon of birth . . . Oh turn not such a withering look watch ye well by daylight weary in the morning ... it is hard to work for God look my soul and see mount, beloved mourn not that the days are gone One by one the sands are flowing... One Priest alone can pardon me ... One sweetly solemn thought One year ago On, onward borne by mighty wings On the lone bosom of a lake Saviour ! here a little child Saviour, whose mercy severe in its k O strong in purpose O strong upwelling prayers of faith Thou whose tender feet have trod O Thou who didst this rite reveal Over an ancient scroll I bent Our beloved have departed where is He that trod the sea ... P. Peace in Jesus ! blessed promise ... Pity Thyself ! Words seeming kind Pleasantly passeth the summer day Pour forth the oil Prayer is the burthen of a sigh ... R. Raise high the note of exultation... Raise up Thy power Remnant of ages from thy glory cast Remove the stone PAGE ... 2 ... .. 382 ... .. 186 ... .. 238 ... .. 290 ... . .. 126 ... .. 127 ... •■ .. 307 ... .. 96 ... . . 225 ... .. 12 .. 240 .. 360 ... .. .. 158 • • • . .. 416 ... .. 175 ... . .. 289 dness . . .. 206 .. 33 ... •< .. 293 ... . .. 210 •*. ... 122 ... . ... ... 182 ... . .. ... ... 217 ... . .. ... .. 401 •• • • ... 277 ... 129 ... . ... 283 ... ... 143 . . . •« . ... .. 18 ... .. 41 .. 184 . . . ... .. 334 ... . ... .. 228 ... • ■ . ... « .. 350 INDEX OF FIRST LINES. XXV Rest for the weary River of God that springest Run ye the race, 'tis not earth's fame S. Sabbath of the saints of old Say hast thou ever yet See the rivers flowing Send kindly light She has chosen the world ... Silence in heaven and earth Since service is the highest lot Slowly, slowly up the wall Soft slumbers Some gentle souls Some murmur when their sky is clear Soon and for ever ! Source of my life's refreshing springs Sow with a generous hand Sow ye beside all waters ... Stark, stark that arm Strive, yet I do not promise Sunlight has vanished Sweet brooklet ever gliding Sweet was the hour Lord to Thee Sweet when friends their joy impart PAGE 134 405 69 262 13 20 140 345 61 107 332 169 223 141 38 133 229 202 280 237 162 21 287 365 Talk not of feelings and of frames Tauler the preacher The apostle slept The charities that soothe ... The Christmas rang gladly in The earthless roof The evening shades to rest invite... The hand that might have drawn aside . . . The hand that strews the earth with flowers The meanest creature of His care... The memory of Thy truth to me 70 214 186 346 111 319 52 337 275 310 377 XXVI INDEX OF FIRST LINES. The new year's morning was sad and still The proudest heart that ever beat There is a child of mystery There is a day of sunny rest There is a little lonely fold There is an Eye There lies a little lonely isle There no waxing moons nor waning The rounded whole of truth The Sabbath day has reached its close The stars shine bright The stranger's heart, oh wound it not The voice of Him who cries aloud The way seems dark about me The waves were dashing loud and high They are evermore around us They are not — Sleep in the grave ? They were gathered early They have stopped the sacred well Think on the mercy of our God This did not once so trouble me . . . This world I deem Tho' poor and weak Thou art free from pain and sorrow Thou glorious Son of Kighteousness Thou inevitable day Thou little flock Thou shalt be crown'd Thou spakest and the waters rolled Thou whose love unshaken 'Tis not for man to trifle 'Tis not the blood-stained vest alone 'Tis thus they press the hand and part To God and to His Son be praise... To the name that brings salvation To thee dear, dear country Two things have shone Thy neighbour ! It is he whom thou Thy way, not mine, Lord PAGE 234 119 278 220 14 46 294 387 2 152 163 339 274 93 11 124 123 207 37 59 77 253 100 379 149 374 9 357 255 64 311 29 370 190 192 390 143 23 104 INDEX OF FIRST LINES. XXV11 U. Unnumbered blessings rich and free Up and away Up to the hill of Calvary V. Voyager on life's troubled sea W. Watcher who watchest by the bed of pain We bless Thee for the quiet sleep We lead a gentle life below We live not in our moments We love Thee, Lord We overstate the ills of life We praise and bless Thee, gracious Lord We saw Thee not when Thou didst come... We sadly watch'd the close of all What cheering words are these ... What, gazing on your Saviour's face What God decrees— Child of His love ... What mean ye by this weeping ... What no human eye hath seen When ease and quiet are our lot When first thine eyes unveil WTien hearts are full of yearning tenderness When on the fragrant sandal tree When worldly men Where the faded flower shall freshen Whom see I? Why wilt thou make bright music Without a home, without a rest ... Words are lighter than the cloud-foam . . . Y. Ye have not sowed in vain Yes thou art mine Yes, weep, woman PAGE 92 249 81 70 83 378 144 141 16 109 49 5 376 121 10 115 371 397 117 148 44 320 44 366 58 138 326 320 132 412 292 u Sanctify them through Thy truth. Thy Word is Truth." " Before Thy mystic altar, heavenly Truth, I kneel in manhood, as I knelt in youth ; Thus let me kneel till this dull form decay, And life's last shade be brightened by this ray." Sir W. Jones 9 B 'HE rounded whole of Truth the mortal mind May never mirror in its narrow sphere, Yet, as it looks to Heaven, may hope to find The faint reflection ever wax moi e clear. To him that seeks, it is more largely sent, Nor need he grieve that all can not be given ; Upon the leaf each dew-drop is content To hold its segment of the round of heaven. " Strive for the truth to the death, and the Lord shall fight for thee."— Ecclus. IV. 28. " Thou requirest truth in the inward parts." God of truth, whose living Word, Upholds whate'er hath breath ; Look down on Thy creation, Lord, Enslaved by sin and death. Set up Thy standard, Lord ! that we Who claim a heavenly birth, May march with Thee to smite the lies, That vex Thy groaning earth. Crutl). Mount Thy white horse, Thou AYord of God ; Thy blood-stained vesture don : To the last strife with death and hell Lead Thy great army on. Ah ! would we join that blest array, And follow in the might Of Him, the Faithful and the True, In raiment clean and white. We fight for truth, we fight for God, Poor slaves of lies and sin ! He who would fight for Thee on earth, Must first be true within. Then God of Truth, for w^hom we long, Thou who wilt hear our prayer, Do thine own battle in our hearts, And lay the falsehood there. Thou sword which goeth from his mouth, Smite these false hearts in twain ! Here burn, thou never-dying fire ! Fall on, thou fiery rain ! Still smite ! still burn ! till nought is left But God's own truth and love ; Then, Lord, as morning dew come down — Rest on us from above. Yea, come ! then, tried as in the fire, From every lie set free, Thy perfect truth shall dwell in us, And w r e shall live in Thee. b2 ffj* IIP t* " Faith is the confidence of things hoped for." " For we are made partakers of Christ, if we held the beginning of our confidence firm unto the end." Hope still, though darkness round thee spread. Count mercy in the cloud o'erhead, And lean thee upon God. Wait for the strength the Lord will send, He that endureth to the end, Shall win the crown at last ; Nor will he mourn the way was dim, Christ trod a darker way for him, And clasps his weak hand fast. " Only believe" — wondrous words ! That wake the doubting soul's dull chords, That Jesus pleaded thus. " Only believe " ! Lord of Light, Help us to watch for Thee by night, Who watched all night for us. Anna SnirroN. fif rf u Blessed are they who have not seen, and yet have believed." r*E saw Thee not when Thou didst come To this poor world of sin and death, } Nor e'er beheld Thy cottage home In that despised Nazareth ; But w r e believe Thy footsteps trod Its streets and plains, Thou Son of God. We did not see Thee lifted high Amid that wild blaspheming crew, Nor heard Thy meek imploring cry, " Forgive, they know not what they do ;" Yet w T e believe the deed was done, Which shook the earth, and veiled the sun. We stood not by the empty tomb, Where late Thy sacred body lay, Nor sat within that upper room, Nor met Thee in the open way ; But w r e believe that angels said, " Why seek the living with the dead ?" We were not with the chosen few, Who saw Thee thro' the clouds ascend, Nor raised to heaven our wondering view, Nor to the earth did prostrate bend ; Yet we believe that mortal eyes Beheld that journey to the skies. tfaitlh Now Lord of love who reign'st on high, And dost Thy waiting people bless, With rays of glory from the sky Which shine e'en on our wilderness ; We can believe Thy faithful Word, And trust in our redeeming Lord. FOR THE EPIPHANY. From the German of Muller. A ltght is breaking forth — soul ! delay no more ; The wondrous star gives tidings true, Thy Lord is at the door. Go forth from thine own land To seek this Lord afar, And let thine eyes be ever turned Towards that bright morning star. To thee it has arisen — Mark thou that beam so mild, It leadeth thee to thy Saviour-Lord— Jesus the heavenly child. Now, therefore, ready be, Leave all thou hast behind, Leave all thou lovest dear and best, Go forth with willing mind. And gird thyself in haste To journey through the wild, And tarry not upon thy way, Till thou hast found that Child. Then fall thou at His feet, In thy heart's lowliness ; He with His heavenly ray of joy, Thy soul will deign to bless. Offer thyself to Him In grateful, loving fear, And sing with all the Angel-choir Immanuel, He is here ! Here is the Truth, the Way, The entrance into Life ; Here is the gate of Paradise, A resting-place from strife. With God and all His saints Thou hast communion dear, Here by this manger thou art blest, God dwelleth in thee here. A way He sheweth thee Thou knewest not before The path of quietness and peace To the true heavenly shore. M. G. T. fMtih SOCKET. I call my little child unto my knee ; He leaves his play, and resting his small hand Gently on mine, most quietly doth stand, Waiting with patience till I set him free ; And his sweet face looketh up lovingly. Without a shade of doubt at my command, But fond confidingness, expression bland Of pure affection in his eyes I see. Oh ! if the earthly parent doth receive Such willing duty, loving reverence, Much more should we — God*s children — fear to griere By setting our self-will Sis will above Sim, who to all so richly doth dispense The gracious tokens of His boundless love. H. M. Kathboxt- " Wherefore lift up the hands which hang down, and the feeble knees. faint and feeble-hearted ! Why thus cast down with fear ? Fresh aid shall be imparted, Thy God unseen is near. His eye can never slumber, He marks thy cruel foes ; Observes their strength and number, And all thy weakness knows. fditih 9 Though heavy clouds of sorrow Make dark thy path to-day, There may shine forth to-morrow, Once more a cheering ray. Doubts, griefs, and foes assailing, Conceal heaven's fair abode ; Yet now faith's power prevailing Should stay thy mind on God. EXHORTATION TO FAITH. (From Hymns of the Primitive Church.) Thou little flock, whose Shepherd is above, From sinful fears your wavering mind refrain. Are ye not now partakers of His love ? Are ye not partners of His future reign ? How many saints who now surround His throne, Were once like you with cares and sorrows, worn ? Their griefs unnoticed, and their joys unknown, They dared not murmur and they would not mourn. They bore the cherished burden of the cross, And thus the strait and narrow way they trod ; Through many a doubtful contest, many a loss, Still slowly struggling on their way to God. io • tfaitl). The inward bursts of passion, or of pride They sought with prayer and watching to subdue, With many a comfort to themselves denied, The path of indigence they loved to strew. Their daily banquet was the Holy Word, Their chiefest pleasure and their noblest prize ; And oft on mild devotion's wings they soared, And held communion with their kindred skies. This was their path by which they rose to God ; Eternal Lord of Heaven, be ours the same ; May we too come and join them in the road, And still ascending, praise Thy glorious name. Chandler. " And the Apostles said unto the Lord, Increase our faith." What ! gazing on your Saviour's face, And listening to His Word, Dared ye to ask for further grace, To credit all you heard ? Yet, so it is ; belief springs still In soils that nurture doubt ; And we must go to Him who will The baneful weed cast out. Did never thorns thy path beset ? Beware ! be not deceived ; He who has never doubted yet, Has never yet believed. Hinds. Jfattf). 11 THE EFFICACY OF FAITH. The waves were dashing loud and high,- My child looked on with me ; " Father," she cried, " why may not I Trust God, and walk the sea ? Was it not lack of faith alone That made the Apostle sink ? By faith, therefore, it may be done ; Father, what should I think P" " The Lord bade Peter go, my child ; And should He thee command, Thy feet would on these waters wild Be firm as on this sand. But life has storms more awful yet, Waves rougher than yon sea ; Then do not thou in these forget That Jesus is with thee. Care not what others have to do — What may be, or has been ; But, on the path God calls thee, go, And use thy faith therein." Hinds. 12 jfat'tl^ " Faith worketh by Love." mourn not that the days are gone, The old and wondrous days, When Faith's unearthly glory shone Along our earthly ways ; When the Apostle's gentlest touch, Wrought like a sacred spell, And health came down on every couch On which his shadow fell. The glory is not wholly fled, That shone so bright before, Nor is the ancient virtue dead, Though thus it works no more. Still, godlike Power with goodness dwells, And blessings round it move, And Faith still works its miracles, Though now it works by Love. It may not on the crowded ways Lift up its voice as then, But still with sacred might it sways The stormy minds of men. Grace still is given to make the faint Grow stronger through distress, And even the shadow of the saint Retains its power to bless. From The Voice of Prophecy, by J. D. Burns. " Love is the fulfilling of the law." " Tell me, my wishing soul, did'st ever try, How fast the wings of red-crossed faith can fly ? Why begg'st thou, then, the pinions of a dove ? Faith's wings are swifter ; but the swiftest love''' Quarles. " Say, hast thou ever yet, Implored on bended knee, Of all-embracing love, That thine this love might be ? Whilst with full choice thy heart was given, To Him who reigns through earth and heaven." From the German o/Lavater. " How little and how lightly We care for one another ; How seldom and how slightly Consider each a brother. For all the world is every man To his own self alone, And all beside no better than A thing he doesn't own." Tupper. WHAT LOYE IS. QftOVE is the source of breath and life, qa^I) The very fount of bliss ; The light that fills the world above, And sweetly shines on this. Love is the gentle air of heaven, Enjoyed by angels there, And wafted from that beauteous land, To soothe the sons of care. THE LOVING ONE. " He shall feed His flock like a shepherd." There is a little lonely fold, Whose flock one Shepherd keeps, Through summer's heat and winter's cold, With eye that never sleeps. £obe* 15 By evil beast, or burning sky, Or damp of midnight air, Not one in all that flock shall die, Beneath that Shepherd's care. For if, unheeding, or beguiled, In danger's path they roam, His pity follows through the wild, And guards them safely home. 0, gentle Shepherd ! still behold Thy helpless charge in me ; And take a wanderer to Thy fold, That trembling turns to Thee. LOVE KEEPIXG WATCH. Far on yon heath, so lone and wild, A mother sits to watch her child, Delighted with its heedless play, Yet fearful of its going astray. God watches both : 0, mother ! pray That when these little feet shall stray O'er paths of life more lone and wild, God still may watch thy heedless child, 16 £cbe* Pray, little one, that God may bless Thy mother for her tenderness, And watch her from His throne above With all her own unwearied love. Hinds. LOYE SPRINGING FROM FORGIVENESS. " Her sins, which are many, are forgiven ; for she loved much." We love Thee, Lord, yet not alone because Thy bounteous hand, Showers down its ceaseless gifts on ocean and on land ; Because Thou bidd'st the sun go forth, rejoicing in his might, And kindle earth to glowing life and beauty with his light. Because thou roll'st the orbs of light through trackless fields of space, And giv'st to each low creeping flower its own peculiar grace ; Because in sunshine and in storm alike we see Thee near, In summer gale and rushing storm alike Thy voice we hear. Eofae. 17 'Tis not alone because Thy names of Wisdom, Power, and Love, Are written on the earth beneath and the glorious skies above ; We praise thee, Lord, for these, yet not for these alone The incense of a Christian's love arises to Thy throne. We love Thee, Lord, because when we had erred and gone astray, Thou did'st recall our wandering souls into the hea- venward way ; When helpless, hopeless, we were lost in sin and sorrow's night, Thou did'st beam forth a guiding ray of Thy benignant light. Because when we forsook Thy ways, nor kept Thy holy will, Thou wert not an avenging judge, but a gracious father still. Because we have forgotten Thee, but Thou hast not forgot — Because we have forsaken Thee, but Thou forsakest not. Because, Lord ! Thou loved'st us with everlasting love ; Because Thou gav'st Thy son to die that we might live above ; Because when we were doomed to hell, Thou gav'st the hope of heaven. We love, because we much have sinned, and much have been forgiven. J. A. E. C 28 Eot)e» THE LAW OF LOVE. u 1 And it came to pass, when the vessels were full, that she said unto her son, Bring me yet a vessel. And he said unto her, There is not a vessel more. And the oil stayed." — II. Kings iv. 6. Pour forth the oil, pour boldly forth, It will not fail until Thou failest vessels to provide, Which it may largely fill. Dig channels for the streams of love, Where they may broadly run ; And love has overflowing streams To fill them every one. But if at any time thou cease Such channels to provide, The very founts of love for thee Will soon be parched and dried. For we must share, if we would keep, That good thing from above, Ceasing to give, we cease to have : Such is the law of love. K. C. Trench. ilobe. 19 EXITE, SION EILLE. (Medieval Hymn.) Daughters of Sion, seek your King ! Go forth, — go forth to meet Him ! Your Solomon is hastening Where that dear flock shall greet Him. The sceptre and the crown by right He wears, in robe of purple dight. Your Solomon — the Prince of Peace — Bears not His mother's laurel, But with the olive bids to cease The long and bloody quarrel. Jesus, the Son of God Most High, Offers His peace to them that die. It glitters fair His diadem, But thorns are there entwining, And from the Red Sea comes each gem That in its wreath is shining : Their radiance glows like stars of night ; With precious blood-drops are they bright. The royal sceptre that He bears, Beneath whom nature quaketh, No monarch's pride and pomp declares, A reed, it feebly shaketh : For iron sceptre ne'er possess'd The power to guide a human breast. c2 20 3Lofae> The festive purple of the Lord, Is here no garment stately ; A vest, by very slaves abhorred, — The worm hath tinged it lately. "lama worm/' of old, said He, And what its toils have tinged ye see. We, therefore, to the King of Kings Bow lowly, from Him learning, To pomp and pride, that this world brings, To make our boast in spurning : Such love the members best adorns, For whom the Head was crowned with thorns. Translated by C. Neale. GIYE. See the rivers flowing Downwards to the sea, Pouring all their treasures Bountiful and free : Yet to help their giving Hidden springs arise ; Or, if need be showers Feed them from the skies. Sobe* 21 Watch the princely flowers Their rich fragrance spread, Load the air with perfumes, From their beauty shed ; Yet their lavish spending Leaves them not in dearth, With fresh life replenished By their mother earth. Give thy heart's best treasures — From fair nature learn : Give thy love, and ask not, Wait not a return ! And the more thou spendest From thy little store, With a double bounty God will give thee more. A. A. Procter. 'THIS IS jNTOT YOUR EEST." Sweet brooklet ever gliding, Now r high the mountain riding, The lone vale now dividing, Whither away ? " With Pilgrim course I flow, " Or in summer's scorching glow, u Or o'er moonless wastes of snow, Nor stop nor stay ; 22 £obe* " For 0, by high behest " To a bright abode of rest, " In my parent ocean's breast, " I haste away." Many a dark morass, Many a craggy moss, Thy feeble force must pass, Yet, yet delay! " Though the marsh be dire and deep, " Though the crag be stern and steep, " On, on my course must sweep, " I may not stay ; u For 0, be it east or west, " To a home of glorious rest, " In the bright sea's boundless breast, "I haste away! " The warbling bowers beside thee, The laughing flowers that hide thee, With soft accord, they chide thee, Sweet brooklet stay ! " I taste of the fragrant flowers, " I respond to the warbling bowers, " And sweetly they charm the hours " Of my winding away ; " But ceaseless still in quest " Of that everlasting rest, " I haste away." 2Lobe* 23 Knowest thou that dread abyss ? Is it a scene of bliss ? Ah, rather cling to this, Sweet brooklet stay! " 0, who shall fitly tell, " What wonders there may dwell ? ubm&0iain " What knowest thou, wife, whether thou shalt save thy husband? He strays — how far, to Thee alone, My Saviour and my God is known ; Yet think upon Thy Word which says, The wife may win him from his ways, — May haply mend the broken tie That linked us for eternity. In mercy, Lord, his soul defend, And be my Counsellor and Friend, For unto Thee, and only Thee, I tell my tale of misery ; No eye but Thine has seen my tears, No bosom shared my doubt and fears. Thou, too, art witness when I said — " Until death part us we will wed " — 'Twas written on my fervent heart, That we were not in death to part ; But that we asked a blessing then, Which we might ask in heaven again. In heaven ? If I alone could be In heaven, would it be heaven to me : Save, save me from the thought, Lord ; I will not go beyond Thy Word ; I'll labour for his soul and mine, And all besides to Thee resign. Hinds. ^ulmitssu'on* 107 MINISTRY. u The Son of Man came not to be ministered nnto, but to minister." Since service is the highest lot, And all are in one body bound, In all the world the place is not Which may not with this bliss be crown'd. The sufferer on the bed of pain, Need not be laid aside from this, But for each kindness gives again, " The joy of doing kindnesses." The poorest may enrich this feast ; Not one lives only to receive, But renders through the hands of Christ, Richer returns than man can give. The little child in trustful glee, With love and gladness brimming o'er, Many a cup of ministry, May for the weary veteran pour. The lonely glory of a throne, May yet this lowly joy preserve, Love may make that a stepping-stone, And raise " I reign " into " I serve." This, by the ministries of prayer, The loneliest life with blessings crowds, Can consecrate each petty care, Make angels' ladders out of clouds. 108 Jtabmfttfbm JNor serve we only when we gird Our hearts for special ministry ; That creature best has minister'd, Which is what it was meant to be. Birds, by being glad their Maker bless, By simply shining, sun and star ; And we, whose law is love, serve less By what we do, than what we are. Since service is the highest lot, And angels know no higher bliss, Then with what good her cup is fraught, Who was created but for this ! From " The Three Wakings" by the author of " The Voice of Christian Life in Song. " " Thou in faithfulness hast afflicted me." — Ps. cxix. 75. My Father and my God, set this spirit free ! I'd gladly kiss the rod That drove my trembling soul to Thee, And made it Thine eternally ! Sweet were the bitterest smart, That, wdth the bended knee, Would bow this broken heart ; For who, my Saviour, who could be A sufferer long that flies to Thee ? &ubmt9@ton* 109 _____ The tears we shed for sin, When heaven alone can see, Leave truer peace within Than worldly smiles, — which cannot be Lit up, my God, with smiles from Thee. Then give me any lot, I'll bless Thy just decree, So Thou art not forgot, And I may ne'er dependent be On any friend, my God, but Thee. J. B. MONSELL. EXAGGERATION. We overstate the ills of life, and take Imagination, given us to bring down The choirs of singing angels, overshone By God's clear glory — down our earth to rake The dismal snows instead, flake following flake, To cover all the corn. We walk upon The shadow of hills upon a level thrown, And pant like climbers. Near the alderbrake We sigh so loud, the nightingale within Refuses to sing loud as else she would. O, brothers, let us leave the shame and sin Of taking vainly in a plaintive mood The holy name of Grief — holy herein, That by the grief of One, came all our good. Eliz. F. Brow no ^ubmtsstott EVENING SONG, AFTER A DAY OF DIFFICULTY. Lord, a happy child of Thine, Patient through the love of Thee, In the light, the life, divine, Lives and walks at liberty. Leaning on Thy tender care, Thou hast led my soul aright, Fervent was my morning prayer ; Joyful is my song to-night. my Saviour, Guardian true, All my life is Thine to keep ; At Thy feet my work I do ; In Thy arms I fall asleep. Tender mercies ! on my way Falling softly like the dew, Sent me freshly every day, I will bless the Lord for you. Though I have not all I would, Though to greater bliss I go, Every present gift of good To Eternal Love I owe. Source of all that comforts me, Well of joy for which I long, Let the song I sing to Thee Be an everlasting song. Mrs. Wareing. £toiMfttoit» in CHKISTMAS BELLS. Written by one, early called to rest, on her sick bed, the last Christmas of her life. The Christmas bells rang gladly in The merry Christmas morn ; The moonlit valley seemed to know The day that Christ was born. Beneath the moonbeams, wood and fell So peacefully did lie, It seemed as to those distant chimes The brooks made glad reply. And lying still awake, I caught Those sounds of holy mirth, Telling of our Great Father's love, Who willeth " peace on earth." And what though pain that night had made My pillow wet with tears, It brought those merry Christmas bells More clearly to my ears ! And thus I thought is every grief > Sent to us from above, But to bring nearer to our hearts Some message of deep love. J. F. K. 112 J&u&mfesfoiu THE BLIND MAN'S HYMN. " He endured as seeing Him who is invisible." Are nature's charms all hidden for ever from my view ? Am I in darkness bidden my journey to pursue ? My Father ! oh, my Father ! Thy child can trust Thee still, And strength from Thee can gather to suffer all Thy will. Though many a form be shrouded that once inspired delight, My soul's clear eye unclouded, and filled with inward sight, May gaze with steadier vision on things to faith revealed, And wait in meek submission for all to be unseal'd. Vain things that once deluded, the world's false glare and show, By loss of sight excluded, nor please, nor tempt me now; Should I not welcome blindness, if sent, my God, by Thee ? In Thy parental kindness to break earth's spells for me ? Oh, if this sad privation, which men misfortune deem, Make Christ and His salvation " the one thing need- ful " seem, £>uf>mfc3t'on« 113 I then shall gain that treasure, imperious to decay, Which ease, ambition, pleasure, might else have snatched away. On Thee, my God, reclining, from things external freed, Calm, peaceful, unrepining, I go where Thou shalt lead. Loved looks, still lovelier seeming, in memory's glow arrayed, On me are ever beaming, undimned by sorrow's shade. Loved voices still can cheer me, sweet birds my ear can charm ; Kind guardians, ever near me, watch to protect from harm ; But, oh ! the thought most cheering, fraught with delight untold, Is this, — at Thine appearing, Thy face I shall behold. C. Elliot. These beautiful lines solaced the last days of the aged and blind Widow of the Poet of Eydal Mount, when sitting by her solitary hearth, the last of the household band. Her latest audible words were. — " My Father ! oh, my Father ! Thy child can trust Thee still." 114 J&ubmts»fom LONGING FOE HOME. Having a desire to depart and to be with Christ." Jesus, my best and Heavenly Friend, Thou who hast died for me, When wilt Thou call my spirit home To be for aye with Thee ? Patience, patience thou my soul, Wait only on the Lord, Then in His oWn good time and way He will fulfil His Word. When His spirit has prepared thee For His blessed rest above, Cleansed thee by His precious blood, Taught thee to trust His love ; He'll call thee for eternity, To that most holy place, Where, with angels, evermore Thou shalt sing a Saviour's grace. H. J. J J^uIimisiStoiu 115 WHAT PLEASES GOD. "Wlas Gott gefiillt mein frommes Kind." Whatsoever the Lord pleased, that did He in heaven and all deep places." What God decrees, child of His love, Take patiently, though it may prove The storm that wrecks thy treasure here, Be comforted ! thou need'st not fear What pleases God. The wisest will is God's own will ; Rest on this anchor, and be still ; For peace around thy path shall flow, When only wishing here below What pleases God. The truest heart is God's own heart, Which bids thy grief and fears depart ; Protecting, guiding, day and night, The soul that welcomes here aright, What pleases God. Oh ! could I sing as I desire, My grateful voice should never tire To tell the wondrous love and power, Thus working out from hour to hour What pleases God. The King of kings, He rules on earth, He sends us sorrow here, or mirth, i 2 116 £>ufcmts«u)tt* He bears the ocean in His hand ; And thus we meet on sea or land What pleases God. His Church on earth He dearly loves, Although He oft its sin reproves ; The rod itself His love can speak, He smites, till we return to seek What pleases God. Then let the crowd around thee seize The joys that for a season please, But willingly their paths forsake, And for thy blessed portion take What pleases God. Art thou despised by all around ? Do tribulations here abound ? Jesus will give the victory, Because His eye can see in thee What pleases God. Thy heritage is safe in heaven ; There shall the crown of joy be given ; There, shalt thou hear and see and know, As thou couldst never here below, What pleases God. Paul Gerhardt. J>ufjmfesioit. 1 1 For they have turned their hack unto Me. and not their face, but in the time of their trouhle they will say, Arise, and save us."' When ease and quiet are our lot, Our hearts grow hard and cold ; Our God and all His love forgot, We wander from His fold ; But when His tempests sweep our sky, His wrath we dare not brave ; We stoop beneath the blast, and cry, Arise, our God, and save. Lord, grant that ever in my breast Such dread of sin may be, That I may never dream of rest Or peace, except in Thee : That 'neath the calmest, brightest sky, Thy mercy ever gave, This heart may dread sin's storm, and cry, Arise, my God, and save. J. B. MON'SELL. " Pray ye that your flight be not in the winter." And shall we pray for our release, Or for a lengthened stay ; Shall we desire to be at peace, Or work another day ? 118 Submission. Leave that to Him who ruleth well ; His time is still the best, In youth or age, — where'er we dwell, When toiling or at rest. Only pray we that our last flight, Be not in winter time, But 'neath the sun-heat of Thy light, Melting the cold hoar rime. That death may call not when our wills Are cold, our souls fast froze, But when Thy love our whole heart fills. And our love answering glows. Thy warmth is Love, Thy light is Truth, Thou blessed Sun of Grace ; Show then more clear than in our youth The brightness of Thy face. For love can melt the icy load Of freezing doubt and dread ; And truth can light the darkest road, We on our flight may tread. M. G. T. ^utomfesifoin 119 A CONFESSION. The proudest heart that ever beat, Hath been subdued in me ; The wildest will that ever rose, To scorn Thy cause, and aid Thy foes, Is quelled, my God, by Thee. Thy will, and not my will, be done ; My heart be ever Thine ; Confessing Thee, the mighty Word ! My Saviour, Christ ! my God ! my Lord ! Thy cross shall be my sign. W. Hone. " Comfort ye my people." " Heaviness may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning." " There is a day of sunny rest, For every dark and troubled night, And grief may bide an evening guest, But joy shall come with early light." Bryant. w$®hm&$& ,LL are not taken ; there are left behind, Living beloveds, — tender looks to bring, And make the daylight still a happy thing ; And tender voices to make soft the wind ; But if it were not so — if I could find No love in all the world for comforting, Nor any path but hollowly did ring, When " dust to dust the love from life disjoined," And if before those sepulchres, unmoving I stood alone (as some forsaken lamb Goes bleating up the moors in weary dearth), Crying, " Where are ye, my loved and loving P" I know a Voice would sound, " Daughter, I Am, Can I suffice for heaven, and not for earth ?" Say ye to the Righteous that it shall be well with him." What cheering words are these ? Their sweetness who can tell ? In time and in eternal days, " 'Tis with the Righteous well ! " 122 Consolation* In every state secure Kept as Jehovah's Eye, 'Tis well with them while life endures, And well when called to die. Well when they see His face, Or sink amidst the flood, Well in affliction's stormy maze, Or on the Mount with God. 'Tis well when joys arise, 'Tis well when sorrows flow, 'Tis well when darkness veils the skies, And strong temptations grow. But, above all, 'tis well When Jesus speaks the word, At the last trumpet's sounding swell, " Arise, to meet your God." Kent. My son, despise not thou the chastening of the Lord, nor faint when thou art rebuked of Him." O Thou ! whose tender feet have trod The thorny path of woe, Forbid that I should slight the rod, Or faint beneath the blow. My spirit to its chastening stroke I meekly would resign, Consolation* 123 Nor murmur at the heaviest yoke That tells me I am Thine. Give me the spirit of Thy trust, To suffer as a son, — To say, tho' lying in the dust, My Father's will he done ! I know that trial works for ends Too high for sense to trace, That oft in dark attire He sends Some embassy of grace. May none depart till I have gained The blessing which it bears, And learn, though late, I entertained An angel unawares. So shall I bless the hour that sent The mercy of the rod, And build an altar by the tent Where I have met with God. J. D Burns. " Rachel weeping for her children, and would not be comforted because they are not." They are not. — Sleep they in the grave, Where their own palm-trees o'er them wave ? Or was their tomb the stranger's land ? The ocean, or the desert-sand ? 124 Consolation* They live, bereaved Rachel : yet The mother must her own forget : Branded with God's disclaiming sign, They are not His, they are not thine. Tho' with the tokens of their birth They go, and through the realms of earth, With kings and nobles cast their lot, To thee, sad Rachel ! they are not. Look on the mother's meek distress, Lord, and heal her childlessness ; Her bondage break, and let her be Free, and a mother of the free ! Hinds. MUSTISTERIJSTG ANGELS. " Are they not all ministering spirits ? " They are evermore around us, tho' unseen to mortal sight, In the golden hour of sunshine, and in sorrow's star- less night, Deepening earth's most sacred pleasures, with the peace of sin forgiven, Whispering to the lonely mourner, of the painless joys of heaven. OTonstolatfonu 125 Lovingly they come to help us, when our faith is cold, and weak, Guiding us along the pathway, to the blessed home we seek : In our hearts we hear their voices, breathing sympathy and love, Echoes of the spirit language, in the sinless world above. They are with us in the conflict, with their words of hope and cheer, When the foe of our salvation, and his armed hosts draw near ; And a greater One is with us, and we shrink not from the strife, While the Lord of Angels leads us on the battle field of life. Seldom do we think upon them, seldom we believe them nigh, Like the child, who deems in sunshine, that the stars have left the sky ; So by this world's pleasures dazzled, scarce we feel their presence true, In foolishness and fickleness, are we not children too? Seeing all our guilt and weakness, looking down with pitying eyes, For the foolish things we cling to, and the Heaven that we despise ; 126 Constolatiom They have been our ministering angels, since this weary world began, And they still are watching o'er us, for His sake who loved man. B. ANGEL WATCHERS. " He shall give His angels charge over thee." • Oh ! watch ye well by daylight, In daylight may you fear, But keep no watch in darkness, The Angels then are near. For heaven the sense bestoweth, Our waking life to keep, But tender mercy showeth To guard us in our sleep. Oh ! watch ye well by daylight, In daylight may you fear, But keep no watch in darkness, The Angels then are near. Oh ! watch you well in pleasure, For pleasure oft betrays, But keep no watch in sorrow, When joy withdraws its rays. ©onstolatioiu 127 For in the hour of sorrow, As in the darkness drear, To heaven entrust the morrow, For the Angels then are near. Oh ! watch you well by day light- In daylight may you fear, But keep no watch in darkness, The Angels then are near. THE SOEROW OF THE WOBLD. "All is vanity and vexation of spirit." " Come unto Me all ye that labour and are heavy laden and I will give you rest." Oh, weary in the morning, When soft the dew-drops fall, And weary at the noontide, When God's sun shines on all ; And weary at the nightfall, When, each day's labour o'er, I count my mis-spent moments, As lost for evermore. Oh, weary of the turmoil, The striving and the care, And weary of the burden Which we of earth must bear ; 128 OTonsioIatfom Oh weary of vain longings, And weary with vain fears, And wearier with heart sorrows, Than with the weight of years. Yes, like a ray of sun-light, The word shines through the gloom, And after winter's darkness Comes spring in fresher bloom ; And after vainly searching, We find a resting meet, — For rest, and hope, and glory Are found at Jesus' feet. God never sends a sorrow Without the healing balm, And bids us fight no battles, But for the victor's palm. Yet we by earth's mist blinded, Knew not His holy will, Till o'er the troubled waters, His voice said, " Peace, be still." We will go forth and conquer, Depending on His grace, The lowliest station near Him Must be an honoured place ; And after battle, victory ; And after victory, rest — Like the beloved apostle, Upon the Master's breast. Consolation. 129 PEACE m JESUS. " My peace I give unto } r ou " Peace in Jesus ! blessed promise ! Covenant word of changeless love ; Sealed in blood, and daily witnessed By Thy grace, Eternal Dove ! Peace in Jesus ! oh, what blessing Calm and pure our spirits know, When the ties of earth forgotten All our joys from Jesus flow. Softly flows Siloa's fountain, Thro' this wide and howling waste ; Deepest, sweetest peace affording All its hallowed stream that taste. From the conflict faint and thirsty, Deep we drain the cup of love ; Oh that deeper still our spirits Might its endless blessings prove. Peace in Jesus, tho' around us Rage the tempest's angry strife ; Tho' the deep her fountains open, O'er them floats the ark of life. Then the weary Dove returning From that dark and trackless sea, Folds in peace her drooping pinion, Sheltered from the storm in Thee. 130 Cfan&tolatiotn Tho' on earth, we've scorn and trouble, In ourselves but shame and sin ; All without the reign of darkness, All a fearful strife within ; He that died and lives for ever, Saves and guards from every ill ; He that walked upon the waters Still commandeth — " Peace, be still/' Peace in Jesus, when in ruins Earth's proud battlements are laid ; Calmly still in Him abiding, Rest we then the weary head. When the sun in sackcloth mourneth, When the winepress runs with blood On the sea of glass reposing, Tune we still the harp of Grod. LIGHT IN DAEKNESS. ;t All things work together for good to them that love God." How weary and how worthless this life at times appears ! What days of heavy musing, what hours of bitter tears ! How dark the storm-clouds gather along the wintry sky, How desolate and cheerless the path before us lies ! Consolation* 131 And yet these days of dreariness are sent us from above, They do not come in anger, but in faithfulness, and love ; They come to teach us lessons which bright ones could not yield, And to leave us bless'd and thankful when their purpose is fulfilled. They come to draw us nearer to our Father and our Lord; More earnestly to seek His face, to listen to His Word; And to feel if now around us a desert land we see, Without the star of promise, what would its darkness be! They come to lay us lowly and humble in the dust, All self-deception swept away, all creature hope and trust, Our helplessness, our vileness, our guiltiness to own, And flee for hope and refuge, to Christ, and Christ alone. They come to break the fetters which here detain us fast, And force our long-reluctant hearts to flee to heaven at last, And brighten every prospect of that Eternal Home, Where grief, and disappointment, and fear can never come. k2 132 Consfolatfoin Then turn not in despondence poor weary heart away, But meekly journey onward through the dark and cloudy day ; Even now the bow of promise is above thee painted bright, And soon a joyful morning will dissipate the night. Thy God hath not forgot thee, and when He sees it best, Will lead thee into sunshine, will give thee bowers of rest ; And all thy pain and sorrow, when the pilgrimage is o'er, Will end in heavenly blessedness and joys for evermore. Spitta. From Hymns from the Land of Luther. " They that sow in tears shall reap in joy." Ye have not sowed in vain ! Though the heavens seem as brass, And, piercing the crust of the burning plain, Ye scan not a blade of grass. Yet there is life within, And waters of life on high ; One morn ye shall wake, and the spring's soft green O'er the moist'n'd fields shall lie. Consolation. 133 Tears in the dull, cold eye, Light on the darken'd brow, The smile of peace, or the prayerful sigh, Where the mocking smile sits now. Went ye not forth with prayer ? Then ye went not forth in vain ; " The Sower, the Son of Man," was there, And His was that precious grain. Ye may not see the bud, The first sweet signs of spring, The first slow drops of the quickening shower On the dry, hard ground that ring. But the harvest home ye'll keep, The summer of life ye'll share, When they that sow and they that reap, Rejoice together there ! From The Three Wakings. " Thou maintained my lot." Source of my life's refreshing springs, Whose presence in my heart sustains me, Thy love appoints me pleasant things, Thy mercy orders all that pains me. If loving hearts were never lonely, If all they wish might always be, Accepting what they look for only, They might be glad, but not in Thee. 134 Consolation* Well may Thy own beloved, who see In all their lot, their Father's pleasure, Bear loss of all they love, save Thee, Their living, everlasting Treasure. Well may Thy happy children cease From restless wishes, prone to sin, And in Thy own exceeding peace, Yield to Thy daily discipline. We need as much the cross we bear A s air we breathe — as light we see ; It draws us to Thy side in prayer, It binds us to our strength in Thee. A. L. Waring, " And there was no more sea." Rest for the weary ! what so sweet as rest ? Go, ask the pale mechanic at his loom ; Or him, whose dinted helm and blood-stained plume Speak of hard fields ; or mariners who breast Ocean's wild waves ; and each one will attest For this sweet boon he makes his ceaseless prayer. But most of all, ask life's tired voyager, What lures him to the region of the blest ? 'Tis not its loud hosannas, crowns or palm — Its light ne'er dimmed— its towers by angels trod : No ; next the unveiled vision of his God, He yearns to feel the rapture of its calm — Which haply in those words may imaged be, (Instinct with rest) — " And there was no more sea." By the Author of The Moral of Flowers. Consolation, 135 It shall come to pass, that at evening time there shall be light." — At evening time let there be light : — Life's little day draws near its close, Around me fall the shades of night, The night of death, the grave's repose ; To crown my joys, to end my woes, At evening time let there be light. At evening time let there be light : — Stormy and dark has been my day ; Yet rose the morn benignly bright, Dews, birds, and flowers, cheered all the way ; for one sweet, one parting ray ! At evening time let there be light. At evening time there shall be light : — For God hath said— " So let it be"; Fear, doubt, and anguish, take their flight, His glory now is risen on me ; Mine eyes shall His salvation see : 'Tis evening time, and there is light. Montgomery. WM " I have learned in whatsoever state I am, therewith to be content." dVb mmmmm CHEEKFULNESS TAUGHT BY REASON. j THINK we are too ready with complaint ! In this fair world of God's. Had we not hope, Indeed beyond the zenith and the slope Of yon grey blank of sky, we might grow faint, And muse upon eternity's restraint Round our aspirant souls. But since the scope Must widen early, is it well to droop For a few days consumed in loss and taint ? pusillanimous heart — be comforted, — And, like a cheerful traveller, take the road, Singing behind the hedge. What if the bread Be bitter in thine Inn, and thou unshod To meet the flints ? At least it may be said, " Because the way is short, I thank Thee, God! " Elizabeth B. Browning. OX THE PROVIDENCE OP GOD. My Lord hath taught me how to want A place wherein to put my head ; While He is mine, I'll be content To beg, or lack my daily bread. 138 CTontentnunL Heaven is my roof, earth is my floor, Thy love can keep me dry and warm ; Christ and Thy bounty are my store, Thy angels guard me from all harm. Must I forsake the soil and air Where first I drew my vital breath? That way may be as near and fair, Thence I may come to Thee by death. All countries are my Father's lands — Thy sun, Thy love doth shine on all ; We may in all lift up pure hands, And with acceptance on Thee call. What if in prison I must dwell — May I not there converse with Thee ? Save me from sin, Thy wrath, and hell, Call me Thy child, and I am free. No walls or bars can keep Thee out ; None can confine a holy soul ; The streets of heaven it walks about, None can its liberty control ! Baxter. MURMURS. Why wilt thou make bright music Give forth a sound of pain ? Why wilt thou weave fair flowers Into a weary chain ? Contentment 139 Why turn each cool grey shadow Into a world of fears ? Why say the winds are wailing ? Why call the dew drops tears ? The voices of happy nature, And the heaven's sunny gleam, Reprove the sick heart's fancies, — Upbraid thy foolish dream. Listen, and I will tell thee, The song creation sings, From the humming of bees in the heather, To the nutter of angels' wings. An echo rings for ever, The sound can never cease ; It speaks to God of glory, It speaks to earth of peace. Not alone did angels sing it To the poor shepherds' ear, But the sphered heavens chant it, While listening ages hear. Above thy peevish wailing Rises that holy song ; Above earth's foolish clamour, Above the voice of wrong. No creature of God's too lowly, To murmur peace and praise : When the starry nights grow silent, Then speak the sunny days. 140 (Ktmttntmtnt So leave thy sick heart's fancies, And lend thy little voice, To the silver song of glory That bids the world rejoice. From Legends and Lyrics, by A. A. Procter. " Lead thou me on.' Send kindly light amid the encircling gloom, and lead me on ; The night is dark, and I am far from home ; lead Thou me on. Keep Thou my feet, I do not wish to see The distant scene, — one step enough for me. I was not always thus, nor prayed that Thou should'st lead me on ; I loved to choose, and see my path ; but, now, lead Thou me on. I loved day's dazzling light, and, spite of fears Pride ruled my will, — remember not past years. So long Thy power hath blessed me, surely still Thou'lt lead me on, Through dreary doubt, through pain and sorrow, till the night is gone ; And with the morn those angel faces smile, Which I have loved long since, and lost the while. Contentment hi MURMTJES. Some murmur when the sky is clear And wholly bright to view, If one small speck of dark appear In their great heaven of blue. And some with thankful love are filled, If but one streak of light, One ray of God's good mercy gild The darkness of their night. In palaces are hearts that ask, In discontent and pride, Why life is such a dreary task, And all good things denied. And hearts in poorest huts admire How love has in their aid (Love that not ever seems to tire) Such rich provision made. Trench. " Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof." We live not in our moments, or our years, The present we fling from us like the rind Of some sweet future, which we after find Bitter to taste, or bind that in with fears, And water it beforehand with our tears — 142 GtanUntmmt. Vain tears, for that which never may arrive : Meanwhile the joy whereby we ought to live Neglected or unheeded, disappears. "Wiser it were to welcome and make ours Whate'er of good, though small, the present brings- — Kind greetings, sunshine, song of birds, and flowers, With a child's pure delight in little things ; And of the griefs unborn to rest secure, Knowing that mercy ever will endure. Trench. ASPECTS. Life is but a weary chafing In the dusk, 'tween prison-bars ; — Life is wending, climbing, — soaring From the mountains to the stars ! Work is but a lonely toiling Thwarted oft, and oft in vain ; — Work is from the Master-builder Granted, guided, sure of gain ! Joy is but a flickering gleaming, Fading slow to ashen gray ; — Joy is quenchless sun-light, beaming Somewhere for us, night and day ! Brother, choose : Life, Joy and Labour, All thy needs, and all desires, Seen as in the light of Tabor, Or the sparks of earthly fires P M. G. T. Contentment 143 " Blessed are the poor in spirit " Two things have shone with golden light Upon the way where we are sent, — A rich man poor in his own sight, And a poor man rich in his content. But a nobler thing than even these, And shining with a light more pure, Is a poor man kneeling on his knees, And thanking God that he is poor. W. W. How. LAY OF PEACE IX SICKNESS. " For our light affliction, which is but for a moment, worketh for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory ; while we look not at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen ; for the things which are seen are temporal ; but the things which are not seen are eternal." Pleasantly passeth the summer away, Gladly the sun lights my chamber each day, Softly my head on the pillow is prest ; Few are my pains, and my spirit hath rest. Soon as the twilight of evening is seen, Hush'd on the bosom of Jesus I lean ; Wait I there, calmly, asleep or awake, Compass'd with love till the grey morning break. 144 Qtontmtmmt Call me not patient — the word cloth not sound Fit for a sinner with mercies around, Patient ! and who then am I to repine While the best gifts are eternally mine ? Say, is it strange I should sing on a bed, Which by the hand of Jehovah is spread ? Bather I bless it, for here, when I die, Sleep shall be sweet till I waken on high. Careth the child in the school-house to roam, After her ear catcheth tidings of home ? Waiteth the exile to grasp in his hand Weeds by the way to his own father-land ? So this bright world is unheeded by me, While from my chamber a fairer I see ; So its glad light, as it falls on my way, Blesses, but never can lengthen my stay. LAY OF PEACE. We lead a gentle life below : Our days that seem to pass, Glide on and blend—before Thy throne, Thus spreads the sea of glass. Contentment* 145 One image fills that crystal sea ; One light o'er all doth shine : Yet every separate drop hath power That radiance to enshrine. Not less in unity and light, True brethren we abide ; " Like drops of Hermon's dew/' that still Into each other slide. Eternal glory, thanks and praise To Thee, God, to Thee, Who buildest all the peace of men, Upon that prime decree : That he who loves the Lord his God, Should hold all creatures dear ; And whoso fears his God, henceforth Should feel no baser fear. Glory to God for ever, From angels and from men, The Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, For evermore, Amen. De Vere. SOXG FOE THE WILDERNESS. " My meditation of Him shall be sweet ; I will be glad in the Lord." I journey through a desert drear and wild, Yet is my heart by such sweet thoughts beguiled, Of Him on whom I lean, my strength, my stay, I can forgot the sorrows of the way. L 146 Contentment Thoughts of His love — the root of every grace, Which finds in this poor heart a dwelling-place, The sunshine of my soul, than day more bright, And my calm pillow of repose by night. Thoughts of His sojourn in this vale of tears, The tale of love unfolded in those years Of sinless suffering and patient grace, I love again and yet again to trace. Thoughts of His glory — on the cross I gaze, And there behold its sad, yet healing rays ; Beacon of hope, which lifted up on high, Illumes with heavenly light the tear-dimm ? d eye. Thoughts of His coming — for that joyful day, In patient hope, I watch and wait and pray ; The dawn draws nigh, the midnight shadows flee, Oh, what a sunrise will that Advent be ! Thus, while I journey on my Lord to meet, My thoughts and meditations are so sweet, Of Him on whom I lean, my strength, my stay, I can forget the sorrows of the way. H«»itt§ tttti h x Y r> " Let my prayer be set forth as incense, and the lifting up of my hands as the morning and evening sacrifice." L2 teg mh iferttfj Sfmm EAELT KISIJSTG AND PEAYEE. " Early in the morning will I lift np my hands unto Thee." 'HEN first thine eyes unveil, give Thy soul leave To do the like ; our bodies but forerun Sr The spirit's duty ; true hearts spread and heave Unto their God, as flowers do to the sun ; Give Him thy first thoughts then, so shalt thou keep Him company all day, and in Him sleep. Yet never sleep the sun up ; prayer should Dawn with the day ; there are set awful hours 'Twixt heaven and us ; the manna was not good After sun-rising ; far day sullies flowers : Rise to prevent the sun ; sleep doth sin glut, And heaven's gate opens when the world's is shut. Wake with thy fellow-creatures ; note the hush And whispering among them. Not a spring Or leaf but hath his morning hymn ; each bush And oak doth know, I Am. — Canst thou not sing ? leave thy cares and follies ! go this way, And thou art sure to prosper all the day. Serve God before the world ; let Him not go Until thou hast a blessing ; then resign The whole unto Him, and remember who Prevailed by wrestling ere the sun did shine : Pour oil upon the stones, weep for thy sin, Then journey on, and have an eye to heaven. iMornutff anH (Bbemng f>v\m\#. 149 When the world's up and every swarm abroad, Keep well thy temper, mix not with each day ; Despatch necessities, life hath a load Which must be carried on, and safely may ; Yet keep those cares without thee ; let the heart Be God's alone, and choose the better part. H. Vaughan. HYMN FOE SUNDAY MORNING. " Unto you that fear My name shall the Sun of Righteousness arise with healing in His wings." Thou glorious Sun of Righteousness, On this day risen to set no more, Shine on me now, to heal, to bless, With brighter beams than e'er before. Shine on Thy work of grace within, On each celestial blossom there : Destroy each bitter root of sin, And make Thy garden fresh and fair. Shine on Thy pure eternal Word, Its mysteries to my soul reveal ; And whether read, remeruber'd, heard, let it quicken, strengthen, heal. Shine on the temples of Thy grace, In spotless robes Thy priests be clad ; They show the brightness of Thy face ; And make Thy chosen people glad. 150 horning anti (Sbem'ng; ^pmnsu Shine on those unseen things displayed To faith's far penetrating eye ; And let their splendour cast a shade On every earthly vanity. Shine on the hearts of those most dear, Disperse each cloud 'twixt them and Thee : Their glorious heavenward prospect clear ; " Light in Thy light/' oh, let them see ! Shine on those friends for whom we mourn, Who know not yet Thy healing ray ; Quicken their souls, and bid them turn To Thee, "the life, the truth, the way." Shine on those tribes no country owns, On Judah once Thy dwelling-place ; " Thy servants think upon her stones," And long to see her day of grace. Shine on the missionary's home, Give him his heart's desire to see : Collect Thy scattered ones who roam ; One fold, one Shepherd, let there be ! Shine, till Thy glorious beams shall chase The blinding film from every eye ! Till every earthly dwelling place Shall hail the day-spring from on high ! Shine on, shine on, Eternal Sun ! Pour richer floods of life and light, Till that bright Sabbath be begun — That glorious day which knows no night. From Hymns for a Week. iftorning anti (Bbem'ng 3?pmnsu 151 EVENING SOXG. FOR THE LORD'S DAY. Millions within Thy courts have met, Millions this day before Thee bow'd, Their faces Zionward were set, Vows with their lips to Thee they vow'd. But Thou, soul-searching God ! hast known The hearts of all that bent the knee ; And hast accepted those alone, In spirit and truth that worshipped Thee. People of many a tribe and tongue, Men of strange colours, climates, lands, Have heard Thy truth, Thy glory sung, And offered prayer with holy hands. Still as the light of morning broke O'er island, continent, or deep, Thy far-spread family awoke, Sabbath all round the world to keep. From east to west the sun survey'd From north to south adoring throngs ; And still where evening stretch'd her shade, The stars came forth to hear their songs. Harmonious as the winds and seas, In halcyon hours, when storms are flown, Arose earth's Babel languages, In pure accordance to Thy throne. 152 ifflormng antt ©benfng ilpmns* Not angel-trumpets sound more clear, Not elders' harps, nor seraphs' lays, Yield sweeter music to Thine ear Than humble prayer and thankful praise. And not a prayer, a tear, a sigh, Hath failed this day some suit to gain : To those in trouble Thou wert night ; Not one hath sought Thy face in vain. Thy poor were bountifully fed, Thy chastened sons have kissed the rod. Thy mourners have been comforted, The pure in heart have seen their God. But one prayer more ; — and be it one, In which both heaven and earth accord ; Fulfil Thy promise to Thy son, Let all that breathe call Jesus, Lord ! Montgomery. SUNDAY EVENING. "I was in the Spirit on the Lord's Day." The Sabbath-day has reached its close ! Yet, Saviour, ere I seek repose, Grant me the peace Thy love bestows — Smile on my evening hour ! ittorm'ng anti (Dbentng Ipmnsi* 153 Oh, heavenly Comforter, sweet guest ! Hallow and calm my troubled breast ; Weary, I come to Thee for rest — Smile on my evening hour ! If ever I have found it sweet To worship at my Saviour's feet, Now to my soul that bliss repeat — Smile on my evening hour ! Let not the Gospel seed remain Unfruitful, or be lost again ; Let heavenly dews descend like rain — Smile on my evening hour ! Oh, ever present, ever nigh ; Jesus, on Thee I fix my eye ; Thou hear'st the contrite spirit's sigh — Smile on my evening hour ! My only intercessor, Thou, Mingle Thy fragrant incense now, With every prayer and every vow — Smile on my evening hour ! And oh, when life's short course shall end, And death's dark shades around impend, My God, my everlasting Friend — Smile on my evening hour ! From Hymns for a Week. 154 Morning antr ebenmg &pmn& HYMN FOE MONDAY MORNING. " Blow upon my garden, that the spices thereof may flow out.' Now let our heavenly plants and flowers Diffuse a fragrance more divine ; Refreshed by the sweet Sabbath showers, With richer beauty they should shine. We have been wafted for a while, Far, far away from this low scene ; Been cheer' d by our Redeemer's smile, Been suffered on His breast to lean. What has He taught us ? what should be The fruit of intercourse so blest ? should not all around us see His image on our souls imprest. Within His ivory palace fair We entered, a much-favoured train : Myrrh, aloes, cassia, filled the air, Our garments should the scent retain. And we should pass along the earth, Like birds that live upon the wing ; Rise to the country of our birth, And on our way its anthems sing. From Hymns for a Week. iHormng anti ©btmng ^pmnsu 155 EVEXIXG HYMN. Now all tlie woods are lulled to rest, And man and beast on earth's wide breast, The city, and the field ; Yet rouse ye, powers of soul and sense, To praise your God, your strong Defence, Your Maker, and your Shield. Where art thou now, thou cheering sun ? Thou far hast fled, in haste to shun Grim night, the daylight's foe ; But in my heart another Light, My Jesus, Sun of all delight, Shines clear, — and thou may'st go. Now that the day is far aloof, The stars come out and seek the roof Of heaven's azure dome ; Thus shall I stand, thus shall I shine, When from this earth, on which we pine, My God shall call me home. The body, longing for its rest, Strips off each garb from limb and breast, Types of its mortal fate ; When it is laid aside, my Lord Will clothe me, as a rich reward, In robes of royal state. The head, and feet, and hands are glad, That labour now an end hath had, All toiling and all din : 156 Jflform'ng antr Cbenmg: Ipmns;* heart, rejoice, for thou shalt be One day from earthly misery free, — Free from the strife with sin. JNow lay thee down, thou weary frame, Go, lay thee down, I may not blame Thy need of pillowed rest ; The time will come, the day will break, When they for thee a bed will make On earth's unyielding breast. 1 cannot hold my eyes awake, And where, while closed their rest they take, Are powers of soul and limb ? Thou, Israel's Watcher, dost not sleep, And from all harms Thine eye will keep Both through the midnight dim. Jesus, spread out Thy sheltering wings, To Thee, Strength, my weakness clings, Gather Thy nestling in : Should Satan seek me for his prey, Then let Thine angels singing say, " This child thou shalt not win." On you, my dear ones, may no blight Of evil fall throughout this night, Nor dangers, nor alarms ; May God, beloved, give you sleep, While round your bed His watchers keep Their guard with golden arms. Paul Gerhard. Translated by M. G. T. JWormng antr Cbemttg; $pmn& 157 EVENING HYMN. " Now is our salvation nearer than when we believed/' Now one day's journey less divides Me from the world where God resides ; If I have walk'd by faith in fear, A stranger and a pilgrim here, I've one day less my watch to keep, My foes to fear, my falls to weep ; I've one day less to see within, Conflict, defeat, remorse, and sin. And oh ! reflect, my fainting soul, Thou'rt one stage nearer to the goal ; Thou'rt one stage nearer to the shore, Where thou wilt grieve for sin no more. If the sweet presence of thy God To-day has cheered and blessed thy road, Think what must be that glorious place, Where He will never hide His face. If thou hast oft been led astray, And mournfully review'st the day, Still strive the more that rest to attain Where thou wilt never sin again. If thou hast mourned for friends endear'd, Whose converse once thy journey cheer'd, Think that in heaven no cause will sever The bond that re-unites for ever, 158 JWormnff anti ebenfng ^pmnss* Let every gift by God bestowed, Each kind refreshment on my road ; Let every sorrow, hope, and fear, Incite my soul to persevere. Since I alone on Thee depend, Oh, guide me to my journey's end ; Then bear my soul o'er death's dark wave, To realms of joy beyond the grave. From Hymns for a Week. KEABER HEAVEN. One sweetly solemn thought Comes to me, o'er and o'er, I'm nearer my home to-day, Than I've ever been before. Nearer my Father's home, Where the many mansions be ; Nearer the great White Throne, Nearer the jasper sea. Nearer the bound of life Where I lay my burthen down ; Nearer to leave my cross, Nearer to wear my crown. Nearer the time when I shall join The white robed angels' song ; And meet the dear ones gone before, Amid that countless throng. Jflfornmg; antr ©betting $>pmnsu 159 Nearer the palaces of light, And to the streets of gold ; Nearer the temple of my God, And to delights untold. Nearer to holiness — to bliss, Nearer my Saviour's breast, Nearer the land where all is love, The children's promised rest. Bright, bright to me, the sunset sky, Gilding the soul within, With sweet thoughts of a fairer world, To which I'm hastening. Carey. EYEMNG TWILIGHT. Hail tranquil hour of closing day ! Begone disturbing care ! And look my soul from earth away To Him who heareth prayer. How sweet the tear of penitence, Before His Throne of Grace ; While to the contrite spirit's sense, He shows His smiling face. How sweet through long remembered years, His mercies to recall ; And press'd with wants, and griefs, and fears, To trust His love for all. 160 Jftorm'ng; antr €benmg 8|pmn& How sweet to look in thoughtful hope, Beyond this fading sky, And hear Him call His children up To His far home on high. Calmly the day forsakes our heaven, To dawn beyond the west, So let my soul in life's last even, Retire to glorious rest. FOE A WAKEFUL NIGHT. Now darkness over all is spread, No sounds the stillness break, Ah, when shall these sad hours be fled, Am I alone awake ? Ah no, I do not wake alone, Alone I do not sleep ; Around me ever watchful One, Who wakes with those who weep. On earth it is so dark and drear, With Him so calm and bright ; The stars in solemn radiance clear, Shine there through all our night. 'Tis when the lights of earth arc gone, The heavenly glories shine ; When other comfort I have none, Thy comfort, Lord, is mine. JWormng anti ©benutjj ^pmnsu iei Be still, my throbbing heart, be still, Cast off thy weary load, And make His holy will thy will, And rest upon thy God. How many a time the night hath come, Yet still returned the day ; How many a time thy cross, thy gloom, Ere now hath passed away. And these dark hours of anxious pain That now oppress thee sore, I know will vanish soon again, Then I shall fear no more. For when the night hath lasted long, We know the morn is near ; And when the trial's sharp and strong, Our Help shall soon appear. Pastor Josephsen. From Lyra Germanica " He giveth His beloved sleep." " He giveth His beloved sleep ;" The haughty sow the wind ; The storm they sow, the tempest reap, But rest they cannot find. In sleep itself, their furrowed brows That care-worn mark retain ; Avenger of the guilt it shows The curse and brand of Cain ! M 162 Jttorm'ttff anU (Kbenutff Ipmnsu Rest is of God — He doth not sleep ; But while His children rest, His hand outstretched, and still, doth keep, O'er earth their shadowed nest. His holy angels chant around, To chase dark dreams away ; That slumbers innocent and sound May leave serene the day. Glory to God for ever, From angels and from men, The Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, For evermore. Amen. De Vere, THE SLEEP OE THE BELOVED. " So He giveth His beloved sleep." Sunlight has vanished, and the weary earth Lies resting from a long day's toil and pain, And looking for a new dawn's early birth, Seeks strength in slumber for its toil again. We too would rest, but ere we close the eye Upon the consciousness of waking thought, Would calmly turn it to yon star-bright sky, And lift the soul to Him who slumbers not. JHornmg antr <£benmo; ?jpmn& 163 Above us is Thy hand — with tender care Distilling over us the dew of sleep ; Darkness seems loaded with oblivious air, In deep forgetfulness each sense to steep. Thou hast provided midnight's hour of peace, Thou stretchest over us the wing of rest, With more than all a parent's tenderness, Foldest us, sleeping to Thy gentle breast. Grief flies away, care quits our easy couch, Till wakened by Thy hand, when breaks the day ; Like the lone prophet by the angel's touch We rise to tread again our pilgrim- way. God of our life ! God of each day and night ! Oh, keep us still till life's short race is run ; Until there dawns the long, long day of light, That knows no night, yet needs no star, no sun. H. Bonar. From Hymns of Faith and Hope. HYMX FOE MIDXIGHT. The stars shine bright while earth is dark, While all the woods are dumb ; How clear those far-off silver chimes, From tower and turret come ! m2 164 JWorm'ttg antr ©bening S?pmn& Chilly but sweet the midnight air ; And lo ! with every sound, Down from the ivy-leaf a drop Comes glittering to the ground. 'Twas night when Christ was born on earth ; Night heard his first, faint cry, Which angels carolled round the star Of the Epiphany. Alas ! and is our love too weak To meet Him on His way ? To pray for nations in their sleep ? For love then let us pray. Pray for the millions slumbering now ; The sick who cannot sleep ; may those sweet sounds waft them thoughts As peaceful, and as deep. Pray for th' unholy, and the vain ; O may that pure-toned bell Disperse the demon powers of air, And evil dreams dispel ! Pray for the aged, and the poor ; The crown-encompassed head ; The friends of youth now far away ; All on a dying bed. JWormnij anti €bcntng; I)pmn^ 165 And ever let us wing our prayer With praise ; and ever say Glory to God who makes the night Benignant as the day ! Glory to God for ever, The Father and the Son, And Thee, Holy Ghost, by whom All things are knit in one. De Vere. A MIDNIGHT HYMN. In the mid silence of the voiceless night, When, chased by airy dreams, the slumbers flee ; Whom in the darkness doth my spirit seek God, but Thee ? And if there be a weight upon my breast, Some vague impression of the day foregone, Scarce knowing what it is, I fly to Thee, And lay it down. Or if it be the heaviness that comes In token of anticipated ill, — My bosom takes no heed of what it is, Since 'tis Thy will. 166 Jttorm'ng antr (©btntng: $?pmnss* For 0, in spite of past and present care, Or aught on earth beside — how joyfully Passes that almost solitary hour, My God, with Thee. More tranquil than the stillness of the night, More peaceful than the silence of that hour, More blest than anything, my bosom lies Beneath Thy power. For what is there on earth that I desire, Of all that it can give or take from me ? Or whom in heaven doth my spirit seek God, but Thee ? y-. y Is^^O^ __ " Redeeming the Time." How oft we fret for Time's delays, And urge him on with sighs, But to lament in after days How rapidly he flies ! Too late we sorrow to receive What once we thought a boon : Life hurries past us, but we grieve To reach the grave too soon. J. D. Burns. "Bedeeming the Time." SjoOSE one day loitering, 'twill be the same story To-morrow, and the next more dilatory. The indecision brings its own delays, And days are lost, lamenting o'er lost days ; What thou canst do, or think'st thou canst, begin it- Boldness has genius, power, and magic in it. Secure the moment, and the mind grows heated, Begin it, and the work will be completed. NOW !— TO-DAY ! Arise ! for the day is passing, While you lie dreaming on ; Your brothers are cased in armour, And forth to the fight are gone ; Your place in the ranks awaits you ; Each man has a part to play ; The past and the future are nothing In face of the stern to-day. Arise ! from your dreams of the future — Of gaining a hard fought field, Of storming the airy fortress, Of bidding the giant yield ; Cime* 169 Your future has deeds of glory, Of honour, (God grant it may !) But your arm will never be stronger, Or needed as now — to-day. Arise ! if the past detain you, Her sunshine and storms forget ; No chains so unworthy to hold you, As those of a vain regret ; Sad or bright, she is lifeless ever ; Cast her phantom arms away, Nor look back, save to learn the lesson Of a nobler strife to-day. Arise ! for the hour is passing ; The sound that you dimly hear Is your enemy marching to battle, Rise ! rise ! for the foe is here ! Stay not to brighten your weapons, Or the hour will strike at last ; And from the dreams of a coming battle, You will waken and find it past. A. A. Proctor. INCENTIVE TO EARLY EISING. Soft slumbers now mine eyes forsake, My powers are all renewed ; May my freed spirit too awake, With heavenly strength endued. 170 mmt. Thou silent murderer, sloth, no more My mind imprisoned keep ; Nor let me waste another hour With thee, thou felon, sleep. Think, O my soul, could dying men One lavished hour retrieve, Though spent in tears, and passed in pain, What treasures would they give ! But seas of pearls, and mines of gold, Were offered then in vain ; Their pearl of countless price is sold, And where's the promised gain ? Lord, when Thy day of dread account, For squandered hours shall come, Oh ! let not this increase th' amount, And swell the former sum. Teach me in health each good to prize, I dying shall esteem ; And every pleasure to despise, I then shall worthless deem. For all Thy wondrous mercies past My grateful voice I'll raise, While thus I quit my bed of rest, Creation's Lord to praise. Ctme* in HOEA NOYISSIMA. Far down the Ages now, Her journey well-nigh done, The pilgrim Church pursues her way, In haste to reach the crown. The story of the past Comes up before her view ; How well it seems to suit her still, Old, and yet ever new. 'Tis the same story still, Of sin and weariness, Of grace and love still flowing down, To pardon and to bless. 'Tis the old story still, The briar and the thorn ; And 'tis the same old solace yet, — The hope of coming morn. Wo wider is the gate, No broader is the way, No smoother is the ancient path That leads to light and day. No lighter is the load Beneath whose weight we cry, No tamer grows the rebel flesh, Nor less our enemy. 172 Qtimt. No sweeter is the cup, Nor less our lot of ill ; 'Twas tribulation ages since, Tis tribulation still. No greener are the rocks, No fresher flow the rills, No roses in the wilds appear, No vines upon the hills. Still dark the sky above, And sharp the desert air ; ? Tis wide, bleak desolation round, And shadow everywhere. Dawn lingers on yon cliff ; But, oh, how slow to spring ! Morning still nestles on yon wave, Afraid to try its wing. No slacker grows the fight, No feebler is the foe, No less the need of armour tried, Of shield and spear and bow. Nor less we feel the blank Of earth's still absent King ; Whose presence is of all our bliss The everlasting spring. Thus onward still we press, Through evil and through good, Through pain and poverty and want, Through peril and through blood. Cfme* 173 Still faithful to our God, And to our Captain true ; We follow where He leads the way, The kingdom in our view HORATIUS BON'AR. " Behold, I come quickly." " A little while/ ' our Lord shall come, And we shall wander here no more ; He'll take us to our Father's home, Where He for us has gone before, — To dwell with Him, to see His face, And sing the glories of His grace. " A little while," — He'll come again ! Let us the precious hours redeem ; Our only grief to give Him pain, Our joy to serve and follow Him. Watching and ready may we be, As those who long their Lord to see. " A little while " — 'twill soon be past. Why should we shun the shame and cross ? let us in His footsteps haste, Counting for Him all else but loss ; Oh, how will recompense His smile, The sufferings of this " little while/' 174 Ct'me* " A little while " — come, Saviour, come ! For Thee Thy Bride has tarried long ; Take Thy poor wearied pilgrims home, To sing the new eternal song, To see Thy glory, and to be In everything conformed to Thee ! J. Deck. GOD CALLING YET. " Gott rufet nock" " Unto you, men, I call ; and my voice is to the sons of men." God calling yet ! and shall I never hearken, But still earth's witcheries my spirit darken ? This passing life, these passing joys all flying, And still my soul in dreamy slumbers lying ! God calling yet ! and I not yet arising, So long His loving faithful voice despising, So falsely His unwearied care repaying, — He calls me still, and still I am delaying. God calling yet ! — loud at my door is knocking, And I my heart, my ear, still firmer locking. He still is ready, willing to receive me, Is waiting now, but, ah ! He soon may leave me. Cime* 175 God calling yet ! and I no answer giving ; I dread His yoke, and am in bondage living ; Too long I linger, but not yet forsaken, He calls me still ; oh, my poor heart, awaken ! Ah, yield Him all, — all to His care confiding ; Where but with Him are rest and peace abiding ? Unloose, unloose, break earthly bonds asunder, And let this spirit rise in soaring winder ! God calling yet ! I can no longer tarry, Nor to my God a heart divided carry. Now, vain and giddy world, your spells are broken, Sweeter than all, the voice of God has spoken ! Gerhard Tersteegen. Hymns from the Land of Luther. THE FLIGHT OE TIMS. Ox — onward borne by mighty wings, Time speeds his ceaseless way ; And sees the frame of human things All hastening to decay ; And on his rapid pinions bears The sorrows of six thousand years. 176 Ctme* He saw the world's fair garden spoiled, Mid nature's early bloom ; And hastened by while woman wept O'er the first martyr's tomb ; Witnessed the blood of Abel shed, And heard the wailing for the dead. He saw the mighty storm that came From heaven, and rushing o'er The rocks and mountains, left the world One sea without a shore ; He heard the groans, the cries, the strife, Of nature's throes with parting life. He saw the covenant vow, the pledge Of mercy yet to be, And as its yellow " lustre smiled " O'er earth and sky and sea, He dipt his pinions in the hues Of hope, which still their light diffuse. He sojourned with the men of old, Who breathed the mountain air ; And made earth's caves and wilderness., Their daily house of prayer ; Then laid the patriarchs 'neath the sod. And sent their spirits home to God. He heard the mighty bards of old, Strike their enraptured lyre ; And down his own wide stream he sent The prophet's voice of fire ; To tell the nations yet to be Redemption's holy mystery. Cime* 17; Onward he past — and swept his wing O'er Bethlehem's starry plains, And listened while he caught the sound Of more than earthly strains ; And almost paused awhile to hear That heavenly music, deep and clear. He saw the advent of that day, Which came the world to bless ; While, cradled in a manger, lay The Sun of Righteousness ; And knew that ere his course was o'er, That light should shine on every shore. He gazed upon the sacred hill, Where hung a God-like form And saw his human nature quail Before that awful storm ; Yet knew that he once more should see That bright incarnate deity. Yes, on that morn which rends the sky, When the last sun shall rise, In splendour on the tombs of earth, To call us to the skies ; Time's weary wing shall folded be, And drop into eternity. N m & " Let all things be done decently and in order." mh mwa-ms PRATER FOR BAPTISM. Suffer little children to come unto Me, and forbid them not ; for of such is the kingdom of God " ^TESUS, Lord, Thy servants see, Offering here obedience willing ; Lo ! this infant comes to Thee, Thus Thy mandate blest fulfilling : 'Tis for such Thyself declarest, That the kingdom Thou preparest. Loudly sounds Thy warning plain, Us with holy fear imbuing, " In truth he must be born again, Heart and mind and life renewing ; Born of water and the Spirit, Who My kingdom will inherit." Take the pledge we offer now, To the font baptismal hastening ; Make him, Lord, Thy child below, Let him feel Thy tender chastening : That he here may love and fear Thee, And in heaven dwell ever near Thee. Prince of Peace, Thy peace bestow, Shepherd, to Thy sheep-fold take him ; Way of Life, his pathway shew, Head, thy living member make him : Vine, abundant fruit providing, Keep this branch in Thee abiding. n2 180 &ttes; anti ©rtfinanresu Lord of Grace ! to Thee we cry, Filled our hearts to overflowing ; Heavenward take the burdened sigh, Blessings on the babe bestowing : Write the name we now have given, Write it in the book of heaven. From the German of Schmolk — Translated by Miss Cox. PRAYER FOR BAPTISM. " Baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost." Heavenly Father ! may Thy love Beam upon us from above ; Let this infant find a place In Thy covenant of grace. Son of God ! be with us here, Listen to our humble prayer, Let Thy blood on Calvary spilt, Cleanse this child from nature's guilt. Holy Ghost ! to Thee we cry, Thou this infant sanctify ; Thine Almighty power display, Seal him to Eedcmption's Day. Great Jehovah ! Father, Son, Holy Spirit ! gracious One, Let the blessing come from Thee, Thine shall all the glory be. B. Guest. &ttes; nnti (^rtrinanresu isi BAPTISM. In token that thou shalt not fear Christ crucified to own, Wc print the Cross upon thy brow, And mark thee His alone. In token that thou shalt not fear Christ's conflict to maintain, But 'neath His Banner manfully Firm at thy post remain ; In token that thou too shalt tread The path He travelled by ; Endure the Cross, despise the shame, And sit with Him on high ; Thus outwardly and visibly We seal Thee for His own : And may the brow that w^ears His Cross Hereafter share His Crown. Alford. CONFIRMATION HYMN. Lord, shall Thy children come to Thee ? A boon of love Divine we seek : Brought to Thine arms in infancy, Ere hearts could feel, or tongues could speak, Thy children pray for grace, that they May come themselves to Thee this day. 182 &ttes; anti ^rtmtanres* Lord, shall we come, and come again ? Oft as we see yon Table spread, And tokens of Thy dying pain, The wine poured out, the broken bread, Bless, bless, Lord, Thy children's prayer, That they may come and find Thee there. Lord, shall we come, come yet again ? Thy children ask one blessing more — To come, (not now alone and then,) When life, and death, and time are o'er : Then, then, to come, O Lord, and be Confirmed in heaven, confirmed by Thee. Hinds. " This do in remembrance of Me." ! Thou who didst this rite reveal, Of our blest faith the sign and seal, Around Thy table, Lord, we kneel, Met to remember Thee. Thou faintly loved and feebly sought, Too oft forsaken and forgot ; With contrite shame, with sorrowing thought, Lord, we remember Thee. Thou in our suffering flesh hast dwelt, Guiltless, our load of guilt has felt ; Shall not our hearts within us melt, Saviour, remembering Thee ? -■ Ettcs anU <&v fc mantes 183 'Twas love, untold, unfathomed love, Which brought Thee from Thy throne above ; And shall not love our bosoms move, While we remember Thee ? Through Thee the feeblest shall prevail, Thou wilt not leave, Thou canst not fail ; Thy dying words, Lord, we hail, And thus remember Thee. Montgomery. hymn foe ordination- Christ to the young man said: "Yet one thing more; If thou wouldst perfect be, Sell all thou hast, give to the poor, And come and follow Me ! " Within this temple Christ again unseen, Those sacred words hath said, And His invisible hands to-day have been Laid on a young man's head. And evermore beside him on his way, The unseen Christ shaLl move, That he may lean upon His arm, and say, Dost " Thou, dear Lord, approve P" Beside him at the marriage feast shall be, To make the scene more fair, Beside him in the dark Gethsemane, Of pain and midnight prayer. 184 &ttes; anfc ©rtrmanress* holy trust ! endless sense of rest ! Like the beloved John, To lay his head upon the Saviour's breast, And thus to journey on ! H. W. Longfellow HYMN FOB A MAEEIAGE. Raise high the note of exultation To God's bright throne with voices clear ; The mighty Lord of all creation Lends to our song a father's ear. Eternal Lord of Heaven above, Look down and bless their plighted love. O'er each event of life presiding, May God rich gifts on both bestow ; With heavenly light your footsteps guiding, As through the world's dark wild ye go. Eternal Lord of Heaven above, Look down and bless their plighted love. By God's own Word each action measure, Let Christ your great exemplar be ; Still fix your hearts on heavenly treasure, We hasten towards eternity. Eternal Lord of Heaven above, Look down and bless their plighted love. £ttesi antr ©rtmtance& 185 Together bend, God's grace imploring, Or no true joy your love will know ; Your voices blend, His name adoring, Till love to God each heart o'erflow. Eternal Lord of Heaven above, Look down and bless their plighted love. With cheerful faith in God confide ye, The pilgrim's staff with courage take ; And, till the silent grave divide ye, God and each other ne'er forsake. Eternal Lord of heaven above, Look down and bless their plighted love. May peace and love, your lives adorning, Attend you all your course along ; Your Christian walk, each night and morning, Oh ! strengthen still with prayer and song. Eternal Lord of Heaven above, Look down and bless their plighted love. Together now your voices raising, Vow truth to God, hand joined in hand, Till, on His glories ever gazing, Ye meet in heaven's own happy land. Eternal Lord of Heaven above, Look clown and bless their plighted love. From the German — Translated by Miss Cox. 186 3&tteg ant! ©rtn'naiuesu VISITATION OF THE SICK. The Lord will strengthen thee in the bed of languishing. Thou wilt make all his bed in his sickness." O how soft that bed must be Made in sickness, Lord, by Thee ! And that rest, how calm, how sweet, Where Jesus and the suff'rer meet ! It was the good Physician now, Soothed my cheek, and chafed my brow : Whispering, — as He raised my head, " It is I — be not afraid." God of glory, God of grace, Hear from heaven, Thy dwelling-place ! Hear in mercy, and forgive, Bid Thy child believe, and live. Bless me, and I shall be blest ; Sooth me, and I shall have rest : Fix my heart, my hopes above, Love me, Lord, for Thou art Love ! MONSELL. THE DEATH OE A BELIEVER. Acts xii. The Apostle slept,— a light shone in the prison, An angel touched his side ; " Arise, he said," and quickly he hath risen, His fettered arms untied. ftttes; antr ©r&mancesu 187 The watchers saw no light at midnight gleaming, They heard no sound of feet ; The gates fly open, and the saint still dreaming, Stands free upon the street. So when the Christian's eyelid droops and closes In nature's parting strife, A friendly angel stands where he reposes To wake him up to life. He gives a gentle blow, and so releases The spirit from its clay ; From sin's temptations, and from life's distress, He bids it come away. It rises up, and from its darksome mansion It takes its silent flight ; And feels its freedom in the large expansion Of heavenly air and light. Behind, it hears Time's iron gates close faintly, It is now far from them ; For it has reached the City of the saintly, The New Jerusalem. A voice is heard on earth of kinsfolk weeping The loss of one they love ; But he is gone where the redeemed are keeping A festival above. 188 &ttesi anH (Mtnanresi* The mourners throng the ways, and from the steeple The funeral-bell tolls slow ; But on the golden streets the holy people Are passing to and fro ; And saying as they meet, " Rejoice ! another Long- waited for is come ; The Saviour's heart is glad, a younger brother Hath reached the Father's Home ! " J. D. Burns. mum ?& " It is good to sing praises unto our God ; for it is pleasant, and praise is comely." God and to His Son be praise ! Lord God, we thank Thee here, In heaven Thy holy ones can raise A song more loud and clear. He who upholds both earth and sky, In darkness is He veiled, In a poor manger doth He lie, While Lord of glory hailed ! Though the earth knoweth not her God, The heavens know Him well, And guide along a star-lit-road The wise men to His cell. Come, and fall down, and Him adore, The Prince of Peace, the Word ; And let the world hymn more and more The praises of her Lord. Come, sinners, come and kiss the Son, Ere yet His anger burn, Lest He from you on His dread throne, In wrath for ever turn. (From the German^) praise* 191 " The earth is the Lord's." Lord of the lords of all the earth ! Lord of the souls of men ! From Thee all heavenly gifts have birth ; To Thee return again ! The lightnings flashed from off Thy throne, Fill heaven and earth with light ; And by that living flame alone Men read the world aright. On every crown and sceptre shed, Thy beams of glory shine And burn round every father's head That rules by right Divine. Thy priestly ones anointed stand, And offers incense each, And all the Wise, a Prophet-band, What Thou hast taught them, teach. And those who heal the sick, and those Who plead for the distressed, Or guard the land from Godless foes, Bv Thee are sent, and blessed. Thy voice, Father, rolls around The world for evermore ; The speech we know not, but the sound In silence we adore. 192 J^raisfe* The heavens themselves repose thereon ; Thereon the earth is stayed ; And seasons change, and rivers run, By Thee ordained and swayed. The fearful of their cunning boast, The haughty of their sword ; But we, and all the Heavenly Host, Will glory in the Lord. Glory to God the Father, Glory to God the Son, And glory to the Holy Ghost, Th' eternal Three in One. GLOBIOSI SAiVATOKIS. (German Mediaeval Hymn, translated by the Keverend C. Neale.) To the name that brings salvation, Honour, worship, laud, we pay ; That for many a generation Hid in God's foreknowledge lay ; But to every tongue and nation Holy Church proclaims to-day. Name of gladness, name of pleasure, By the tongue ineffable, Name of sweetness, passing measure, To the ear delectable ; 'Tis our safeguard and our treasure, 'Tis our help 'gainst sin and hell. $Jrai£fc* 103 'Tis the Name for adoration, 'Tis the Name of victory, 'Tis the Name of meditation, In the vale of misery ; 'Tis the Name for veneration By the citizens on high. Tis the Name that whoso preaches, Finds it music in his ear ; 'Tis the Name that whoso teaches, Finds more sweet than honey's cheer ; Who its perfect wisdom reaches, Makes his ghostly vision clear. Tis the Name by right exalted Over every other name ; That when we are sore assaulted, Puts our enemies to shame ; Strength to them that else had halted, Eyes to blind, and feet to lame. Jesus, we Thy Name adoring, Long to see Thee as Thou art ; Of Thy clemency imploring, So to write it in our heart ; That hereafter upwards soaring, We with angels may have part. 194 $rats%* OMNIS PIDELIS GATJDEAT. Let every faithful heart rejoice, And render thanks to God on high ; And with each power of soul and voice, Extol His praises worthily. Into this dark world Jesus came, And all men might His form behold ; While to the limits of the same He passed, that we might be consoled. To all He shewed that gentle Face ; On good and bad alike it shone : Its perfect loveliness and grace, The Lord of all concealed from none. love of Christ beyond all love ! clemency beyond all thought ! grace all praise of saints above, Whereby such gifts to men are brought ! blessed Lord, whose praise we sing ! Here in the way we worship Thee : That in the Country of our King, Filled with Thy glory we may be ! To God on high be glory meet ! Equal to Thee, Eternal Son ! Equal to Thee, blest Paraclete, While never-ending ages run. From Neale^s Mediceval Hymns. ^Jratsie* 195 PRAISE OF GOD'S PEOYIDEXCE. " Thus saith the Lord, Let not the wise man glory in his wisdom, neither let the mighty man glory in his might ; let not the rich man glory in his riches, but let him that glorieth, glory in this. that he understandeth and knoweth me, that I am the Lord which exercise lovingkindness, judgment, and righteousness in the earth ; for in these things I delight, saith the Lord." In Thee I live, and move, and am, Thou deaPst me out my days ; As Thou renew'st my being, Lord, Let me renew Thy praise. Xaked came I into this world, And nothing with me brought ; And nothing have I here deserved, Yet have I lacked nought. I do not bless my labouring hand, My labouring hand or chance ; Thy Providence, most gracious God, Is mine inheritance. Thy bounty gives me bread with peace, A table free from strife ; Thy blessing is the staff of bread, TV hich is the staff of life. The daily favours of my God I cannot sing at large ; Yet let me make this holy boast, I am Jehovah's charge. . 196 prat's** Lord, in the day Thou art about The paths wherein I tread ; And in the night when I lie down, Thou art about my bed. A thousand deaths I daily 'scape, I pass by many a pit ; I sail by many dreadful rocks, Where others have been split. Whilst others in God's prisons lie, Bound with affliction's chain, I walk at large, secure and free, From sickness and from pain. 'Tis not, my God, myself alone, But mine to Thee I owe ; Thou mad'st me many out of one, let Thy praises grow ! let my house a temple be ! That I and mine may sing Hosannahs to Thy Majesty, And praise our Saviour King. 'Tis Thou hast crowned my actions, Lord, With good success each day ; This crown, together with myself, At Thy blest feet I lay. Old Hymn. $ratee. in? Translated from the Latin. ALLELUIA. Alleluia ! best and sweetest Of the hymns of praise above ; Alleluia ! thou repeatest, Angel host, these notes of love, Alleluia ! While your golden harps ye move. Alleluia ! Church victorious ! Join th' angelic harmony ! Alleluia ! bright and glorious, Lift, ye saints, this strain on high : We poor exiles, Join not yet your melody. Alleluia ! songs of gladness Suit not always souls forlorn ! Alleluia ! sounds of sadness, 'Midst our joyous strains are borne ; Our offences We a while with tears must mourn. But our earnest supplication, Holy God we raise to Thee ; Visit us with Thy salvation, Make us all Thy joys to see : Alleluia ! Ours at length this strain shall be, Alleluia. iiwailaw -,'- ht^Bhmmn »»♦ THE FOUNTAIN IN THE DESEBT. " God opened her eyes, and she saw a well of water." " This is my Beloved, and this is my Friend." ^IVE smiles to tliem whose hearts are glad, and weep with them that weep ; *& But all thy soul's deep agonies for Christ's sweet comfort keep. Not all thy wrongs and grief unveil for others' eyes to scan, * The scars the wounded bosom hides were never healed by man. To help us at our sorest need, no kindred soul draws nigh ; We fold our hands, and still our sobs, nor ask for sympathy ; There are no words for speechless woe, — no words the Saviour needs, The tearful glance implores His aid, thy very silence pleads. " Blessed are ye that mourn," and see His tender hands outspread ; Blessed are ye that hear His voice, " ye shall be com- forted :" Then seek Him, thou bruised heart, each tear thy Lord doth know, For He that smote the hidden source, forbids them not to flow. 200 ffltettllmtau$. When did He coldly pass on earth, one eye with sorrow dim ? " Come unto Me," He softly breathes ; — then take thy grief to Him. The crown of thorn encircled then, unseen, His sacred brow : Oh ! hath He ceased to love, who wears the crown of glory now. Reveal the sins that wound thee sore to Him that loves thee best ; He waits to cheer thy soul, and soothe thy terror on His breast ; He pitieth with a mother's love, a father's tenderest care ; 0, bruised heart ! arise, and see thy Friend, thy Saviour near. O weep not on the desert sand, by wells so early dry. But looking up to God, behold His angel hov'ring nigh; Yea, leave thy best love in the shade of one who loves to bless, Pour out thy bitterest memories, tell o'er thy lone- liness. Fear not ! but He will point thine heart to secret springs of joy, Whose light the world may hide from thee, but never more destroy ; It is the Saviour calls to thee, in every stroke of woe, Arise ! go seat thee at His feet, His holy will to know. JWisitfHanemtSu 201 He will not suffer them to want, who strive His ear to gain ; And fainting souls that thirst for Him, ne'er sought that source in vain ; Familiar thou with grief's low plaint, — seek other hearts to bless, Leaning on thy Beloved, go — on through the wilder- ness. But by the way-side, ponder oft, grief calleth not aloud, The whispered wail of broken hearts is stilled amid the crowd ; Watch patiently the prostrate soul, that God nor heaven doth know, Be thine the hand to lead him where the living fountains flow. Though careless eyes will only read tear-channels on thy face, The light the Saviour's smile hath shed, some sinking soul may trace ; And he shall listen to the words that Jesus taught to thee — '' Weary and heavy-laden " — hark ! He whispers, " Come to Me." Anna Shipton. From " Whispers in the Palms." 202 JWisfttllanemiSu THE DAY LABOURER. In the morning sow thy seed, and in the evening withhold not thine hand ; for thou knowest not whether shall prosper, either this or that, or whether they both shall be alike good." Sow ye beside all waters, Where the dew of heaven may fall, Ye shall reap, if ye be not weary, For the Spirit breathes o'er all ; Sow, though the thorns may wound thee ; One wore the thorns for thee ; And though the cold world scorn thee, Patient and hopeful be. Sow ye beside all waters, With a blessing and a prayer, Name Him whose hands uphold thee, And sow thou everywhere. Sow when the sunlight sheddeth Its warm and cheering ray, For the rain of heaven descendeth, When the sunbeams pass away. Sow when the tempest lowers, For calmer days will break, And the seed, in darkness nourish'd, A goodly plant may make. Sow when the morning breaketh In beauty o'er the land ; And when the evening falleth, Withhold not thou thine hand. JWterdlaneousu 203 Sow, though the rock repel thee, In its cold and sterile pride, Some cleft there may be riven, Where the little seed may hide. Fear not, for some will flourish, And, though the tares abound, Like the willows by the waters, Will the scatter'd grain be found. Work, while the daylight lasteth, Ere the shades of night come on ; Ere the Lord of the vine-yard cometh, And the labourer's work is done. Work ! in the wild waste places, Though none Thy love may own ; God guides the down of the thistle The wandering wind hath sown. Will Jesus chide Thy weakness, Or call thy labour vain ? The Word that for Him Thou bearest, Shall return to Him again. On ! — with thine heart in heaven, Till the wild waste places blossom In the warmth of a Saviour's light. Sow by the wayside gladly, In the damp, dark caverns low, Where sunlight seldom reacheth, Nor healthful streamlets flow ; Where the withering air of poison Is the young bird's earliest breath, And the wild, unwholesome blossom, Bears in its beauty — " death." 204 JtttdKllantoud. The ground impure, o'ertrodden By life's disfiguring years, Though blood and guilt have stained it, May yet be soft from tears. Watch not the clouds above thee, Let the whirlwind round thee sweep ; God may the seed-time give thee, But another hand may reap, Have faith, though ne'er beholding The seed burst from its tomb ; Thou knowest not which may perish, Or what be spared to bloom. Room on the narrowest ridges The ripen'd grain will find, That the Lord of the harvest coming In the harvest sheaves may bind. Anna Shipton. THE SOUL COMMITTING ITSELE TO GOD. " Shew me Thy ways, Lord : teach me Thy paths." " Whom have I in heaven but Thee ? and there is none upon earth that I desire beside Thee." Father ! for pleasant paths on earth, My spirit yearneth not ! For loving kindred's clasping hands, And home, I ask Thee not. iHisfrellanemisf* 205 I would forego all anxious thought, And cast on Thee my care ; Content to see Thy love in all — To trace Thee everywhere. Teach me to listen for Thy voice, When the world's storm howleth loud Help me to look for light from Thee, Beneath the darkest cloud : To feel Thy hand the tempest rules — That Thou canst hear and save — That Thou hast set a hound unto The wildest, stormiest wave. The tempest yet was ne'er so loud To drown the soul's faint cry ; Nor cloud so dark to hide Thy child From Thine all-seeing Eye. Lighten mine eyes, that I may read Each page of life to me ; And from each passing hour receive A message, Lord, from Thee. Lead me to seek, with patient prayer, Thy counsel for my stay, And look to Thee to guide my steps In Thine appointed way. With glad and grateful heart accept The work Thy wisdom wills ; And bless the hand that but in love The cup of sorrow fills. 206 i¥lfereIIaneou& Seeking what path. Thou'dst have me take, What heart to cheer or bless, Even as I would ask of Thee For comfort in distress ; Content to share in others' joys, And if this may not be, Still happy that my chequered lot Was chosen, Lord, by Thee. Anna Shipton. A CHILD'S PRAYER. Their angels do always behold the face of your Father which is in heaven." Saviour ! hear a little child, Who knows not how to pray : On earth Thy face so meek and mild Was never turned away. The children gathered to Thy breast Have found a blessed home ; Where safe from every sin they rest ; Then suffer me to come. 1 ask Thee for a heart, to try To please Thee day by day ; Thy love, to lead me back, when I From Thy commandments stray. iHtssrrllanfoii^ 207 Do Thou, Lord, my sins forgive, The sins that wound Thee sore ; And teach me every day I live, To love Thee more and more. Anna Shipton. THE LA3IBS OP CHRIST. They were gathered early, earth's young and fair, Time cannot touch them, nor woe nor care ; Safe in the harbour of endless rest The babes are cradled on Jesus' breast. There are eyes of sapphire and locks of gold, xVnd roseate lines in that little fold ; Music untaught like the wild bird's song, In gushes bursts forth from that cherub throng. From silken couches and beds of down, By the dusky ways of the crowded town ; By hills and village and moorland bleak, Have the angels travelled those buds to seek. And some who were born to an earthly crown, When the angels whispered they laid it down ; 'Twas a weary weight for those tiny heads, So they died uncrowned in their little beds. There are those who were born in grief and shame, Without mother's love or father's name ; O'er their lamp of life the chill night-wind swept, They were laid in the earth, unmourned, unwept. 208 iHfettllarwousi* There are those for whom grey heads toiled and planned, And they hoarded gold and they purchased land ; The innocent heirs of a sordid care, They were snatched from the teeth of the gilded snare. There are some who were taken, we know not why, By the love that walketh in mystery ; The mercy that moves behind sunless clouds. For earth's saints wept o'er their early shrouds. There are those o'er whom solemn tears were shed, By parents who struggled for daily bread ; Who mourned o'er the soul they brought to strife, But the angels gave it the bread of life. They are one in heaven, the loved, the dear, The foundling that perished without a tear ; — Of earth's lands and titles, the infant heir, And the blighted offspring of woe and care. The Lambs of Christ ; by the founts and rills, O'er the heights of the everlasting hills, They follow with joy the Bridegroom's train, If ye love, can ye wish them back again ? THE PROMISED LAND. Fair is our Zion's Promised Land, And gloriously her mansions shine ; Art thou of Israel's wandering band ? Then all that land of light is thine. iHtsscellanemtss* 200 On yonder steep hangs high thy crown, There — where the new song now is sung ! And He who cast the angels down, Holdeth for thee a harp new strung. Then place thy foot upon the Pcock, Thine hand upon the Promise stay ; Fear thou no more the tempest's shock, For none shall rend thy foot away. Oh, mount upon Faith's radiant wings ! Go up, the Promised Land to view : Leave thou on earth thy tear-stained strings, And join the song for ever new. No more thine hands so idly fold, For ransomed souls the way have trod ; Soar up where Jesus led ! behold ! The glorious city of our God ! Why dost thou closer clasp thy chains, And earth's dark chambers still explore,' When stretched beyond lie Eschol's plains, And Faith can waft Thee to the shore. Prophets and kings desired to look Upon the glories thou may'st share, And earth's poor fleeting joys forsook, To watch for Him who reigneth there. Men love the home that bears their name, Join field to field, and mark them well ; And many a thought those chambers claim, Where they, and all they love shall dwell. 210 iflferellaneousu Of distant shore when strangers speak, Of balmy airs and spicy bowers ; That cloudless land they long to seek, Yet — is that clime so fair as ours ? Home ! in a land that is our own, So fair, so fadeless, yet so nigh, Where tears and night are never known, Wins not from him one wand'ring sigh. homeless one, and weary ! Turn ! Let Zion's hope thy thoughts engage, And watching hearts with ardour burn, That Jesus bought our heritage. Anna Shipton. THE HERMIT OE THE THEBAID. strong, upwelling prayers of faith ! From inmost founts of life ye start ; The spirit's pulse the vital breath Of soul and heart. From pastoral toil, from traffic's din, Alone, in crowds, at home, abroad, Unheard of man, ye enter in The ear of God. Jtfltstollaneousu 211 Ye brook, no forced and measured tasks, Nor weary rote, nor formal chains ; The simple heart that freely asks, In love obtains. For man the living temple is ; The mercy-seat, and cherubim, And all the holy mysteries, He bears with him. And most avails the prayer of love, Which, wordless, shapes itself in deeds, And wearies heaven for nought above Our common needs. Alone, the Thebaid Hermit leaned At noon-tide o'er the sacred Word : Was it an angel, or a fiend, Whose voice he heard ? It broke the desert's hush of awe, — A human utterance, sweet and mild ; And looking up, the hermit saw, A little child. A child, with wonder- widened eyes O'erawed and troubled by the sight Of hot, red sands, and brazen skies, And anchorite. What dost thou here, poor man ? No shade Of cool green palms, nor grass, nor well, No corn, nor vines ? — The hermit said, " With God I dwell. p2 212 JHferdlaneousi* " Alone with Him in this great calm, I live not by the outward sense ; My Nile — His love ; my sheltering palm, His Providence." The child gazed round him ; " Does God live Here only ? Where the desert's rim Is green with corn, at morn and eve, We pray to Him. " My brother tills beside the Nile His little field ; beneath the leaves My sisters sit, and spin the while My mother weaves. " And when the millet's ripe heads fall, And all the bean-fields hang in pod, My mother smiles and says, that all Are gifts from God. " And when to share our evening meal, She calls the stranger at the door, She says, God fills the hands that deal Food to the poor." Adown the hermit's wasted cheeks Glistened the flow of human tears ; " Dear Lord ! " he said : " Thy angel speaks, Thy servant hears." Within his arms the child he took, And thought of home, and life with men ; And all his pilgrim feet forsook, Returned again. iBt'srellnnemiSu 213 The palmy shadows, cool and long, The eyes that smile through waving locks ; Home's cradle — hymn, and harvest-song, And bleat of flocks. " Oh child," he said, " that teachest me There is no place where God is not ; That love will find, where'er it be, A holy spot." He rose from off the desert sand, And leaning on his staff of thorn, Went with the young child, hand in hand, Like night with morn. They crossed the desert's dreary line, And heard the palm trees' nestling fan, The Nile-birds cry, the low of kine, And voice of man. Unquestioning his childish guide, He followed, as the small hand led To where a woman gentle-eyed Her distaff fed. She rose, she clasped her truant boy, She thanked the stranger with her eyes ; The hermit gazed in doubt, and joy, And dumb surprise. And lo ! with sudden warmth and light, A tender memory thrilled his frame ; New-born, the world-lost anchorite, A man became ! 214 ffltettllnmom. " Oh, sister of Elzara's race, Behold me ! had we not one mother P" She gazed into the stranger's face, — " Thou art my brother ! " Taught by the child whom God hath sent, That love is more than fast or prayer, I come, toil, care, and pain, content With thee to share. Even as his foot the threshold crossed, The hermit's better life began ; Its holiest saint the Thebaid lost, And found a man. John G. Whittier. T1TJLEE. Tauler, the preacher, walked, one autumn day, Without the walls of Strasburg by the Rhine, Pondering the solemn miracle of life, As one who, wandering in the starless night, Feels, momently, the jar of unseen waves, And hears the thunder of an unknown sea, Breaking along an unimagined shore. And as he walked he prayed — even the same Old prayer, with which for half-a-score of years, Morning and noon and evening, lips and heart Had groaned : " Have pity on me, Lord ! Thou seest while teaching others, I am blind : Send me a man that can direct my steps ! " fBterellaneousu 215 Then as he mused, he heard along his path A sound of an old man's staff among The dry dead linden leaves, and looking up, He saw a stranger, weak and poor, and old, " Peace unto thee, my father ! " Tauler said, " God give thee a good day ! " The old man raised Slowly his calm blue eyes. " I thank thee, son ; But all my days are good, and none are ill." Wondering thereat, the preacher spake again : " God give to thee a happy life." The old man smiled, " I never am unhappy." Tauler laid His hand upon the stranger's coarse grey sleeve, " Tell me, father, what thy strange words mean ? Surely man's days are evil, and his life Sad as the grave it leads to." " Nay, my son, Our times are in God's hands, and all our days Are as our needs : for shadow as for sun, For cold as heat, for want as wealth, alike Our thanks are due, since that is best which is, And that which is not, sharing not His life, Is evil only as devoid of good. And for the happiness of which I spake, I find it in submission to His will, And calm trust in the loving Saviour, His knowledge, goodness, and Almighty power." Silently wondering for a little space Stood the great preacher : then he spake as one Who sudden grappled with a haunting thought 216 iBtisfceUaitfousf* Which long has followed, whispering thro' the dark Strange terror, drags it shrieking into light : " What if God's will consign thee hence to hell ! ' " Then," said the stranger, cheerly, " Be it so. What hell may be I know not ; this I know — I cannot lose the presence of the Lord : His Spirit dwells within and seals me His ; My hand of faith lays hold on Him ; His hand of power takes hold of me ; Love clasps me to His heart ; so then Where'er I go, He goes — And better far to me were fire-walled hell with Him, Than golden-gated Paradise without." Tears sprang in Tauler's eyes. A sudden light, Like the first ray that fell on chaos, clove Apart the shadow wherein he had walked Darkly at noon. And, as the strange old man Went his slow way, until his silver hair Set like the white moon, where the hills of vines Slope to the Rhine, he bowed his head, and said : " My prayer is answered. God hath sent the man Long sought, to teach me, by his simple trust, Wisdom, the weary schoolmen never knew." So, entering with a changed and cheerful step The city gates, he saw, far down the street, A mighty shadow break the light of noon, Which tracing backward, till his airy lines Hardened to stony plinths, he raised his eyes O'er broad facade and lofty pediment, O'er architrave and frieze and sainted niche. fHferellaneousu 217 Up the stone lace-work, chiseled by the wise Erwin of Stein bach, dizzily up to where In the noon brightness, the great minster's tower, Jewelled with sunbeams on its mural crown, Rose like a visible prayer. " Behold ! " he said, " The stranger's faith made plain before mine eyes ! As yonder tower outstretches to the earth, And casts below its darkened shade alone When the clear day is shining on its top, So darkness in the pathway of man's life Is but the shadow of God's providence, By the great Sun of Wisdom cast thereon ; And what is dark below is light in heaven." A STIJDEXT. Over an ancient scroll I bent, Steeping my soul in wise content, Nor paused a moment, save to chide, A low voice whispering at my side. I wove beneath the star's pale shine A dream, half human, half divine ; And shook off (not to break the charm) A little hand laid on my arm. I read ; until my heart would glow With the great deeds of long ago ; Nor heard, while with those mighty dead, Pass to and fro a faltering tread. 218 ifElisrellaneousu On the old theme I pondered long — The struggle between right and wrong ; I could not cheek such visions high, To soothe a little quivering sigh. I tried to solve the problem — Life ; Dreaming of that mysterious strife ; How could I leave such reasonings wise, To answer two blue pleading eyes ? I strove how best to give, and when, My blood to save my fellow-men — How could I turn aside, to look At snowdrops laid upon my book ? Now Time has fled — the world is strange, Something there is of pain and change ; My books lie closed upon the shelf ; I miss the old heart in myself. I miss the sunbeams in my room — It was not always wrapped in gloom : I miss my dreams — they fade so fast, Or flit into some trivial past. The great stream of the world goes by ; None care, or heed, or question, why I, the lone student, cannot raise My voice or hand, as in old days. No echo seems to wake again My heart to anything but pain, Save when a dream of twilight brings The fluttering of an angel's wings ! From Legends and Lyrics by A. A. Proctor. iflfettllaneousi, 219 " It might have been." Of all the sad words of tongue or pen, The saddest words are these, — " It might have been." " Ah ! well for us all, some sweet hope lies, Deeply buried from human eyes ; And in the hereafter, angels may Roll the stone from its grave away." Whittier. At eve, when o'er the lonely soul, Swift waves of thought and memory roll, When Fancy, with her magic wand, Presents a fairer, happier land, Some home of joy, some dream of power, In contrast with the present hour ; When all the past is seen again, How sad the thought, — " It might have been." Amid the scenes of active life, Its cares, its tumults, and its strife, The heart oft-times forgets the past, And o'er its grief a veil is cast : Yet when those busy hours are o'er, And gentle quiet reigns once more, With stronger power, and deeper pain, The sad thought comes — "It might have been." Not mid life's checkered paths, may we Foretell our course of destiny, E'en though our plans are formed with care, E'en though our future seems most fair ; 220 J&tstfellatteous* For He, to whom all things are known, Will shape our purpose to His own, While we, the reason now unseen, Can only say, — " It might have been ! " And 0, how oft such changes come, To sever the pure love of home ; How often death's relentless hand Selects the choicest of the band ; Destroys some young and cherished flower, And in that dark and bitter hour, Comes deep and agonizing pain, With thought of that which might have been. Nor these, alone, cause all the woe That wounds our spirits here below, For all along life's troubled road, Are seeds of pain and folly strewed ; Some hasty word, some thoughtless deed, Has caused full many a heart to bleed ; And no return of tongue or pen, Calls back the joy that might have been ! Ah ! well, — to all must changes come, And many a heart is but the tomb Where buried lies some faded flower, Whose beauty gladdened life's fair hour. Yet not of all our joys bereft, Are we to care and trouble left, Without one ray of light between The blasted hopes that might have been. _ JBtsfttllanfouss* 221 Oh, pilgrim ! o'er life's dangerous road, Look upward to thy Father, God ; Fulfil thy mission, and, with love, Wait for thy summons from above ; Then, trusting in his Holy Son, Thy earthly victories nobly won, Rest in God's bosom, and from Him, Thou then shalt know what might have been. And, 0, how sweet that rest will be, From life and life's temptations free ! Blest be the hour when angels may Tear from our eyes the veil away ; Disclose our pathway here, and show The visions that we long to know ! Blest be the hour, when, all things seen, "We no more say, — " It might have been ! " THE YAUDOIS VALLEYS. Go, traveller to the pastoral vales Of the Alpine mountains old, If thou would'st hear immortal tales, By the wind's deep whispers told. Go, if thou lovest the soil to tread Where man hath nobly striven, And life like incense hath been shed An offering unto heaven. 222 Jfttsfttllantous;* For o'er the snows, and round the pines, Hath swept a noble flood ; The nurture of the peasants' vines Hath been the martyr's blood. A spirit, stronger than the sword, And loftier than despair, Through all the hero-region poured, Breathes in the generous air. A memory clings to every steep Of long-enduring faith, And the sounding streams glad record keep Of courage unto death. Ask of the peasant where his sires For faith and freedom bled ? Ask where were lit the torturing fires, Where lay the holy dead ? And he will tell thee all around, On fount, and turf, and stone, Far as the chamois' foot can bound, Their ashes have been sown ! Go, where the sabbath bell is heard Up through the wilds to float, When the dark old bowels and caves are stirr'd To gladness by the note. When forth along their thousand rills, The mountain people come, Join thou their worship on those hills Of glorious martyrdom. Miscellaneous* 223 And while the song of praise ascends, And while the torrents' voice, Like the swell of many an organ, blends. Then let thy soul rejoice. Rejoice, that human hearts, through scorn, Through shame, through death, made strong, Before the rocks and heavens have borne Witness of God so long. Hemans. GOLDAIT, AS SEEN FROM THE RIGHT. Some gentle souls have sighed to think, That they by all around So quickly shall forgotten be, And all things smile as cheerfully, When they lie underground. And they have wished that earth for them A mother's tears should weep, Nor fill so soon their empty place, But wear a sadder, tenderer face, Where her lost children sleep. 224 JHferdlanemtsi* Then let them gaze on Goldau's vale, Where Nature, in her woe, Sits desolate beside the dead, Kefusing to be comforted, For those that lie below. We saw her spread the evening mists Above them like a pall ; And she has scattered flowers among The giant tomb-stones, that were flung From that dread mountain fall. Poor villagers, we wept for you, By your own hills betrayed ; And sweet it was our eyes to turn, To where thy lovely lake, Lucerne, The holy symbol made. For there it gleamed, a silver cross, Down in the twilight vale ; And we did bless the sacred sign, That told of life and hope divine, When the mighty hills shall fail. Thomas Whytehead. ifltsfrellaneou^ 225 MONT BLAXC REVISITED. mount beloved ! mine eyes again Behold the twilight's sanguine stain Along thy peaks expire. Mount, beloved ! thy frontier waste 1 seek with a religious haste, And reverent desire. They meet me, midst thy shadows cold, Such thoughts as holy men of old Amidst the desert found ; Such gladness as in Him they felt, Who with them through the darkness dwelt, And compassed all around. 0, happy, if His will were so, To give me manna here for snow, And, by the torrent side, To lead me, as He leads His flocks Of wild deer, through the lonely rocks, In peace unterrified. Since from the things that trustful rest, — The partridge on her purple nest, The marmot in his den, — God wins a worship more resigned, A purer praise, than He can find Upon the lips of men. Q 226 JHtsfrdlanemisu Alas, for man ! who hath no sense Of gratefulness nor confidence, But still rejects and raves ; That all God's love can hardly win, One soul from taking pride in sin, And pleasures over graves. Yet leave me not, like him who trod In wrath, of old, the mount of God, Forget the thousands left ; Lest, haply, when I seek His face, The whirlwind of the cave replace, The glory of the cleft. But teach me, God, a milder thought, Lest I, of all Thy blood hath bought, Least honorable be ; And this that moves me to condemn, Be rather want of love for them, Than jealousy for Thee. J. RUSKIN. LINES On Visiting my Aged Parents, in Scotland, after an absence of Thirteen Years. Away, o'er Lake Erie's ripple, And the ocean's tossing foam, Like a bird on weary pinion, I hie to my native home. How sweet amid one's journeyings, To cease for awhile to roam, And exchange the world's heartless smile, For the warm embrace of home. Through the trembling tear-drops in my eye, I scan the aged pair, There's a deeper furrow on their cheek, A whiter tinge come o'er their hair. But sweet to know, that though by age, Their eye less lustrous be, Their eye of faith grows brighter, As they near eternity. And though the snows of age bedeck Their locks, 'tis such as given To mountain tops, that only tell Their heads are nearer heaven. But I miss my eldest sister, And where the youngest too ? I remember yet the anguish When we bade our last adieu. They have left for aye their earthly home, And our dear domestic band ; But they've found the " many mansions " In the glorious spirit land. Q 9 228 JWfetellaneous;* And though Fve made a pilgrimage, Another will still remain ; For I must cross the swelling Jordan, Ere I meet with them again. Yet sweet to know, that though on earth The dearest ties are riven, Our spirits feel a stronger link That binds us all to heaven. And though by death or distance, The household scattered be, We've a brighter home in prospect, Where we'll dwell eternally. THE GYPSIES. Remnant of Ages ! from thy glory cast, Dread link between the present and the past ; Where are the tribes that bowed beneath thy might — That drank from thee as from a fount of light ? The only race, of all thy great compeers. Still moves with thee along this vale of tears : Long since ye parted by the Red Sea strand ; Now face to face to meet in every land : Alone, amid a new-born world to dwell — Egypt's lorn people, — outcast Israel ! iWissreUaneousJ* 220 Like the two forms in sackcloth garb arrayed, By the rapt seer in Patmos 1 shores surveyed. Prophets of ill, that stand in speechless woe, On earth's highway, to bid the nations know How fallen they, who shone so bright of yore, One skilled in human, one in holier lore. How dark their fate, who turn to uses base, Earth's highest wisdom, heaven's divinest grace. Stanlei SOWING AXD REAPING. In the morning sow thy seed, and in the evening withhold not thine hand." Sow with a generous hand ; Pause not for toil or pain ; Weary not through the heat of summer, Weary not through the cold spring rain ; But wait till the autumn comes For the sheaves of golden grain. Scatter the seed and fear not, A table will be spread ; What matter if you are too weary, To eat your hard-earned bread : Sow, while the earth is broken, For the hungry must be fed. 230 JfflfsJrdlaneousu Sow ; — while the seeds are lying In the warm earth's bosom deep, And your warm tears fall upon it — They will stir in their quiet sleep ; And the green blades rise the quicker, Perchance, for the tears you weep. Then sow ; — for the hours are fleeting, And the seed must fall to-day ; And care not what hands shall reap it, Or if you shall have passed away Before the waving cornfields Shall gladden the sunny day. Sow ; — and look onward, upward, Where the starry light appears ; Where, in spite of the coward's doubting, Or your own heart's trembling fears, You shall reap in joy the harvest You have sown to-day in tears. From Legends and Lyrics, by A. A. Proctor. " In all this Job sinned not, nor charged God foolishly.' " The light that led astray Was light from heaven." It could not be ; no light from heaven Has ever led astray — Its constant stars to guide are given, And never to betray. Mtettllmtau& 231 The meteor in the marsh bred May lure the foot afar, But never wayfarer misled Would say it was a star. When passion drives to wild excess, And folly wakes to shame, It cannot make the madness less, To cast on heaven the blame. blindly wander, if thou wilt, And break from virtue's rule, — But add not blasphemy to guilt, And doubly play the fool. The light that seemed to shine on high, And led thee on to sin, Was but reflected to thine eye From passion's fire within. And Conscience warned thee of the guide, And Reason raised her voice ; Thou wert not forced to turn aside, But freely mad'st the choice. Thy will its false enchantment drew Before thy clearer sight, And round the hovering tempter threw An angel's robe of light. And thus from virtue's peaceful way, So far by passion driven, How could the light that led astray, Be light that shone from heaven ? 232 JKItsifellaneous!. Why, reckless of its native aim, Should genius, throned on high, E'er lend the sanction of its name To consecrate a lie ? If not, that a corrupted heart Degrades the noblest mind, And turns to shame the glorious art That should have blessed mankind. spurn the guilty thought away ! Eternity will tell, That every light that led astray Was* light that shone from hell. J. D. Burns. WRITTEN IN A BIBLE, A PRESENT TO A GODCHILD. A king for earthly wisdom prayed, God gave the boon he sought ; That king God's law still disobeyed, He knew, and did it not. Ask thou, my child, a better boon, The wisdom from above ; JNor think thy morn of life too soon To learn a Saviour's love. ffltettUnmou$* 233 But ask not skill to understand The deep and curious lore, With which too many a reckless hand Hath glossed these pages o'er. Pray for what passeth human skill, The power God's will to do ; Read thou, that thou may'st do His will, And thou shalt know it too. And what if much be still unknown ? Thy Lord will teach thee that, When thou shalt stand before His throne, Or sit as Mary sat. Wait, and He will Himself disclose Things now beyond our reach ; And listen not, my child, to those Who the Lord's secrets teach ; — Who teach thee more than He has taught, Tell more than He revealed, Preach tidings that He never brought, And read what he left sealed. Hinds. 234 #U2SceIIai«GUSu THE LITTLE CHILD AND THE NEW YEAR. The New Year's morning was sad and still, And a thin mist hung o'er meadow and hill, When a fair child rose from her little bed, And out of the window put forth her head. Oh, fair was that little child to behold, With her bright blue eyes and her tresses of gold ; But her brow was shaded, as though a fear Were hid in the joy of the glad New Year ; And half to herself, and half aloud, From her lips a solemn murmur flowed : — " The good Old Year, it is gone away, Not a moment longer it might stay ; It brought me all that it had to bring, It scattered blessings beneath its wing ; It told me all it had to tell, And then it bade me a long farewell. New Year, what hast thou brought for me ? Wilt thou be as kind a friend as he ? " She ceased, as though she waited reply, And I thought a music wild swept by : — " Fair child, the answer must come from thee, Art thou willing to make a friend of me ? I have many a precious gift in store, Wilt thou take them, and love thy Saviour more ? If I whisper the words of holy cheer, Wilt thou speak the words in thy brother's ear ? If I make thee a little stream of bliss, Wilt thou water the barren wilderness ? Oh, yes, the good Shepherd has gathered thee in, Then pity the children of sorrow and sin ; Let the near and the far be glad for thee, And let all who thy lowly service see, Inscribed on it read in the light of heaven, 1 Freely received, and freely given/ Then, fair child, I will love thee well, But what I shall do, I may not tell ; I may lengthen thy day of blessing below, And that will be loving thee much. I know : I may shorten thy days, at thy Saviour's call, And that will be loving thee most of all ! " CHRISTIAN ENDURANCE. Mortal ! that standest on a point of time, With an eternity on either hand ; Thou hast one duty above all sublime, Where thou art placed, serenely there to stand. To stand undaunted by the threatening death, Or harder circumstance of living doom ; Nor less untempted by the odorous breath Of hope, that rises even from the tomb. For hope will never dull the present pain, And time will never keep thee safe from fall, Unless thou bear'st in thee a mind to reign Over thyself, as God is over all. 236 iMfecellaneousi* "lis well in deeds of good, tho' small, to strive, 'Tis well, some part of ill, tho' small, to cure ; 'Tis well with onward, upward hopes to strive, Yet better and diviner to endure. What but this virtue's solitary power, Through all the lusts and dreams of Greece and Rome, Bore the selected spirits of the hour, Safe to a distant immaterial home ? What but this lesson, resolutely taught, Of resignation, as God's claim and due, Hallow the sensuous hopes of Eastern thought, And makes Mahommed's mission almost true ? But in that patience was the seed of scorn, Scorn of the world, and brotherhood of man ; JNot patience such as in the manger born, Up to the cross endured its earthly span. Thou must endure, yet loving all the while, Above, yet never separate from thy kind ; Meet every frailty with the gentlest smile, Though to no possible depth of evil blind. This is the riddle thou hast life to solve, But in the task thou shalt not work alone ; For while the worlds about the sun revolve, God's heart and mind are ever with His own. M. MlLNES. Alterdlaneousu 237 STRIVE, WAIT, AND PPAY. Strive ; yet I do not promise The prize you dream of to-day Will not fade when you think to grasp it, And melt in your hand away ; But another and holier treasure You would now perchance disdain, Will come when your toil is over, And pay you for all your pain. Wait ; yet I do not tell you The hour you long for now, Will not come with its radiance vanished, And a shadow upon its brow ; Yet far through the misty future, With a crown of starry light, An hour of joy you know not Is winging her silent flight. Pray ; though the gift you ask for May never comfort your fears, May never repay your pleadings, Yet pray, and with hopeful tears. An answer, not that you long for, But a better will come one day ; Your eyes are too dim to see it, Yet strive, and wait, and pray. A. A. Proctor. 238 JH&ttllaneous. " Nasci poena, vita labor, necesse mori." Oh ! say not that the boon of birth Is punishment alone ; God, who bestowed it, knew its worth ! The gift was all His own — Designed to serve a noble end, Would but thy thoughts to Him ascend. Think not that life is nothing more Than labour ; hath it not, 'Mid paths by thorns besprinkled o'er, Full many a flowery spot, Whence gentle feelings, musings high, May soar to immortality. Nor look on death, man's latest foe, As necessary ill ; Seek but thy Saviour's power to know, And do thy Maker's will ; — And death, the end of care and strife, Shall be the door of endless life ! Bernard Barton. OPPORTUNITIES. " All that thou mightest have been, All that thou mightest have done." Mark that long dark line of shadows, Stretching far into the past ; Every day it seems to lengthen, Whither does it tend at last ? JWisrelUmeousk 239 Each one added to the hosts From the present moment flies ; These are Time's forgotten ghosts, Fleeted opportunities. Characters of light or darkness, GabriePs pen from each requires ! God records, if man forgets them, Numbers each as each expires. And the awful spectres all At the day of doom will rise, Witnesses at heaven's call — Fleeted opportunities. Buried powers of good unmeasured, Hardly present did ye seem, Yet I thought I should have treasured, When ye vanish'd like a dream. Crushing now my sinful soul, All your weight upon it lies ; Jesus' blood must o'er ye roll, Fleeted opportunities. Oh, rav soul ! no further lengthen Wilfully this ghostly train ; Rise and seek for grace to strengthen, Where 'twas never sought in vain. Lost, this hour but adds another To those solemn witnesses ; Every living soul's thy brother, — Mark thine opportunities. L. N. R 240 ittfettllantous;* ONE BY ONE. One by one the sands are flowing, One by one the moments fall ; Some are coming, some are going, Do not strive to grasp them all. One by one thy duties wait thee, Let thy whole strength go to each ; Let no future dreams elate thee, Learn thou first what these can teach, One by one bright gifts from heaven, Joys are sent thee here below ; Take them readily when given, Ready too to let them go. One by one thy griefs shall meet thee, Do not fear an armed band ; One will fade as others reach thee, Shadows passing through the land. Do not look at life's long sorrow, See how small each moment's pain ; God w T ill help thee for to-morrow, Every day begin again. Every hour that fleets so slowly, Has its task to do, or bear ; Luminous the crown, and holy, If thou set each gem with care. JEtscellaneousu Do not linger with regretting, Or for passing hours despond ; Nor the daily toil forgetting, Look too eagerly beyond. Hours are golden links, God's token Reaching heaven ; but, one by one, Take them ; lest the chain be broken, Ere the pilgrimage be done. A. A. Proctor. THE PRESENT. Say not thou what is the cause that the former days were better than these ; for thou dost not enquire wisely concerning this." Do not crouch to-day, and worship The old Past, whose life is fled ; Hush your voice to tender reverence, Crowned he lies, but cold and dead : For the Present reigns our monarch, With an added weight of hours ; Honour her for she is mighty ! Honour her for she is ours ! See the shadows of his heroes, Girt around her cloudy throne ; Every day the ranks are strengthened By great hearts to him unknown ; K 242 fHtstellantous;* Noble things the great Past promised, Holy dreams both strange and new ; But the present shall fulfil them, What he promised he shall do. She inherits all his treasures, She is heir to all his fame, And the light that lightens round her, Is the lustre of his name ; She is wise with all his wisdom, Living on his grave she stands ; On her brow she bears his laurels, And his harvest in her hands. Coward, can she reign and conquer If we thus her glory dim ? Let us fight for her as nobly As our fathers fought for him. God who crowns the dying ages, Bids her rule and us obey ; Bids us cast our lives before her, Bids us serve the great To-day. A. A. Proctor. dUteitllamoiis. 243 BIRTHDAY EYMN. So teach us to number our days, that we may apply our hearts unto wisdom " A smile in kindly eyes I see, And kindly arms are pressed around mi And kindly voices now I hear That "wish me many a happy year. But there is yet a kinder Eye That gazes on me from on high ; The gracious Lord my prayer will hear, As I begin another year. Almighty Friend Thy grace bestow, Teach Thy weak child Thy will to know : And guide me in Thy faith and fear, Oh ! make me wiser every year ! Take pride and folly from my heart ; Bid sloth and selfishness depart ; Let me be humble, meek, sincere : Oh, make me holier every year ! If more and more I prize Thy word, If more and more I love my Lord ; If more and more I feel Thee near, I shall be happier every year. Still wiser, holier, may I be, — A brighter, happier birthday see, When I at last in heaven appear To spend with Thee an endless year ! r2 244 Msfcdlantou** To J. W. To a beloved Child on her Sixteenth Birthday. — April 27th 1857. As April's suns and April's showers Renew earth's face with leaves and flowers ; Thou better Sun with beams of Thine, Shine on my child with grace divine ; And grant that grace in plenteous shower May still renew my April flower ; Till ta'en from earth to bloom above, 'Neath skies where all is changeless love. TO MY BELOVED CHILD IN THE FAITH, H. J. J., ON HER NINETEENTH BIRTHDAY. Daughter of faithful Abraham's race ! To whom thy God has given grace ; Not far, but near that Seed to see, Which gladdened Him, and blesseth thee. Child of the ancient Priestly line, Be clothed in Righteousness Divine ; Let Levi's Portion still be thine, For time and for eternity. fEisrtllaneous!. 245 The darkening veil for aye removed, Behold the Father's well-beloved ; And resting on His Arm of might, Onward still press to realms of light. Then swift as years shall run their round, Still may they find thee " homeward bound " ; Nearer the wayworn pilgrim's rest, Nearer the mansions of the blest. And oh, my child ! to thee be given Thy loved on earth to meet in heaven ; All gathered in one Home of Peace, One Home of pure Eternal bliss. July 23rd 1857. TO MY DEAR LUNETTE, ON HER TWENTY FIRST BIRTHDAY. • • When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child. I thought as a child : but when I became a man, I put away childish things." Now stately Womanhood has set Her crown, upon thy blooming brow, Be thine the choice, my dear Lunette, At holy Wisdom's shrine to bow. Keep simple trust, — keep childlike love, — Fair flowers to weave in woman's crown ; They spring from heaven, they'll bloom above, Thy Lord for His these plants shall own. 246 iMfetellaneousf, But cast from thee weak " childish, things/' They ill befit, — they can't adorn A daughter of the King of kings, Preparing for the Bridal Morn. May ripening grace, with years advance, The " virtuous woman's" praise be thine; Meek hope and child-like innocence, And Christ thy Friend — such prayer be mine, A ugust 23rd 1860. YOUTH AND AGE. " Kejoice, young man, in thy youth ; and let thy heart cheer thee in the days of thy youth, and walk in the ways of thine heart, and in the sight of thine eyes ; but know thou, that for all these things. God will bring thee into judgment." How views the youth this varied scene, 'jNeath sunny skies, in blooming May, Ere memories sad of what has been, Have changed Hope's azure hue to grey. He looks exultingly around, — Sorrow to him is but a name, He scarcely feels to tread the ground, Pursuing pleasure, wealth, or fame. With ruddy cheek and sparkling eye, He never dreams of pain or death ; His pulse beats strong, his hopes are high, lie knows not, life is but a breath. fHfeceIIaneou& 247 But when disease, with stealthy pace, Or else sure-footed age draws nigh ; When grief has left its dimning trace, And tears have quenched the beaming eye, When he has felt, earth ! how vain Is all of joy that thou can'st give ; Where then shall he a covert gain, And learn that mystery — How to live ? One Booh alone that secret tells, Because it speaks of Him who lives ; One Name alone our fear dispels, Because all grace and power it gives. youth ! seek Him, of friends The Friend, Before "the evil days" draw nigh, Then shall He bless thy latter end, And guide thee to thy Home on High. Seek not thy joy in this low earth, Let higher aims thy heart engage ; Bethink thee of thy Heavenly birth, And of thy glorious Heritage. And weary age remember thou, That rest was never promised here ; Yonder a crown awaits thy brow, And thy Redemption draweth near. 248 ift&ttUantou0+ A SERMON PllOM A CHILD. " Of such are the kingdom, of Heaven." '&' " Mother," said little Isabel, " While I am fast asleep, The pretty grass and lovely flowers Do nothing else but weep ; " For every morning when I wake, The glistening tear-drops lie Upon each tiny blade of grass, And in each flowret's eye. i( I wonder why the grass and flowers At night become so sad ; For early through their tears they smile, And seem all day so glad. " Perhaps 'tis when the sun goes down They fear the gathering shade, And that is why they cry at night, Because they are afraid. " Mother, if I should go and tell The pretty grass and flowers, About God's watchful love and care, Through the dark midnight hours, " I think they would no longer fear, But cease at night to weep ; And then, perhaps, they'd bow their heads, And gently go to sleep." ifflidttliatttous* 249 " What seemeth tears to you, my child, Is the refreshing dew, Our Heavenly Father sendeth down Each morn and evening new. " The glittering drops of pearly dew, Are to the grass and flowers, What slumber through the silent night Is to this life of ours. " Thus God remembers all the works, That He in love has made ; O'er all His watchfulness and care Are night and day displayed." THE EVERLASTING MEMORIAL. Up and away, like the dew of the morning, Soaring from earth to its home in the sun, — So let me steal away, gently and lovingly, Only remembered by what I have done. My name, and my place, and my tomb, all forgotten, The brief race of time well and patiently run, So let me pass away, peacefully, silently, Only remembered by what I have done. Gladly away from this toil would I hasten, Up to the crown that for me has been won ; Unthought of by man, in rewards or in praises, — Only remembered by what I have done. 250 iaissrellaneou^ Up, and away, like the odours of sunset, That sweeten the twilight as darkness comes on, — So be my life — a thing felt but not noticed, And I but remembered by what I have done. Yes, like the fragrance that wanders in freshness, When the flowers that it came from are closed up and gone, So would I be to this world's weary dwellers, — Only remembered by what I have done. Needs there the praise of the love-written record, The name and the epitaph graved on the stone ? The things we have lived for, — let these be our story ; We ourselves but remembered by what we have done. I need not be missed, if my life has been bearing (As its summer and autumn move silently on), The bloom and the fruit, and the seed of its season, I shall still be remembered by what I have done. I need not be missed, if another succeed me, To reap down those fields which in spring I have sown ; He who ploughed and who sowed is not missed by the reaper, He is only remembered by what he has done. From Hymns of Faith and Hope, by H. Bonar. Wggs ^ ■liflJUL FIRST DAY OF CREATION. " And God said, Let there be light, and there was light." " Ye were sometimes darkness, but now are ye light in the Lord." " g|ET there be light/' Jehovah said, w^ The beam awoke, the light obeyed ; B 3 Bursting on chaos dark and wild, Till the glad earth and ocean smiled. Formless, and void, and dark as night, My heart remained, till heavenly light, Obedient to the Word Divine, On my dark soul began to shine. Light broke upon my rayless tomb, The day-star rose upon my gloom ; And with its gentle new-born ray, Brightened my darkness into day. Glory to Thee, by all be given ; — Of light the Light, in earth and heaven ; Of joys the Joy, of suns the Sun, Jesus, the Father's chosen One. HORATIUS BONAR. Uaps; of Creation. 253 THE SECOND DAY OF CREATIOX. And God said, Let there be a firmament in the midst of the waters, and let it divide the waters from the waters." This world I deem But a beautiful dream Of shadows that are not what they seem, Where visions rise, Giving dim surmise Of the things that shall meet our waking eyes. Arm of the Lord ! Creating Word ! Whose glories the silent skies record ; Where stands Thy Name In scrolls of flame, On the firmament's high shadowing frame. I gaze o'erhead Where Thy hand has spread For the waters of heaven that crystal bed, And stored the dew In its deeps of blue, Which the fires of the sun come tempered thro'. Soft they shine Through that pure shrine, As beneath the veil of Thy flesh Divine, Beams forth the light That were else too bright For the feebleness of a sinner's sight. 254 ©ap0 of Creation* _____ And such I deem This world will seem When we wake from life's mysterious dream ; And burst the shell, Where our spirits dwell, In their wondrous ante-natal cell. I gaze aloof On the tissued roof, Where time and space are the warp and woof ; Which the King of kings, As a curtain flings, O'er the dreadfulness of eternal things. A tapestried tent To shade us meant From the bare everlasting firmament ; Where the blaze of the skies Comes soft to our eyes, Through a veil of mystical imageries. But could I see, As in truth they be, The glories of heaven that encompass me, I should lightly hold The tissued fold Of that marvellous curtain of blue and gold. Soon the whole Like a parch'd up scroll, Shall before my amazed eyes uproll ; IBaps: of Creattom 255 And without a skreen, At one burst be seen, The presence wherein I have ever been. O who shall bear The blinding glare Of the Majesty that shall meet us there ? "What eye may gaze On the unveiled blaze Of the light-girdled throne of the Ancient of Days ? Christ us aid ! Himself be our shade, That in that dread day we be not dismayed. T. Whytehead. THIRD DAY OF CREATION. ' • And God said, Let the waters under the heaven be gathered together unto one place, and let the dry land appear, and it was so." Thou spakest ; and the waters roll'd Back from the earth away, They fled, by Thy strong voice controlled, Till Thou didst bid them stay : Then did that rushing mighty ocean, Like a tame creature cease its motion, Nor dared to pass where'er Thy hand Had fix'd its bound of slender sand. 256 23apsi of Creation* Again Thou spakest, Lord of Power, And straight the land was seen All clad with tree and herb and flower, A robe of lustrous green : Like souls wherein the hidden strength Of their new-birth is waked at length, When robed in holiness they tell What might doth in Thy Spirit dwell. And still within this earth resides A hidden power Divine, And waiting for the hour she bides, Till Thou shalt give the sign : Then sudden into light shall burst A flush of glory like at first, And this dark world around us lie Array'd in immortality. Lord, o'er the waters of my soul, The word of power be said ; Its thoughts and passions bid Thou roll Each in its channelled bed : Till that in peaceful order flowing, They time their glad obedient going To Thy commands, whose voice to-day Bade the tumultuous floods obey. For restless as the moaning sea, The wild and wayward will, From side to side is wearily Changing and tossing still : 23apsf of Creation* 25 But sway'd by Thee 'tis like the river, That down its green banks flows for ever, And calm and constant tells to all The blessedness of such sweet thrall. Then in my heart, Spirit of Might, Awake the life within, And bid a spring-tide calm and bright, Of holiness begin : So let it be with Heaven's own grace, Full shining on its quiet face, Like the young Earth in peace profound, Amid th' assuaged waters round. T. Whitehead. FOURTH DAY OF CREATION. ; And God said, Let there be lights in the firmament of the heaven- fc< divide the day from the night ; and let them be for signs, and for seasons, and for days, and for years." As yet the darkness and the day Sphered in their separate dwelling lay, But for the thrones of eve and morn, The kings of light were yet unborn. 258 Baps; of Creation. Then spake the Word of the Most High, And straight the solitude of sky Was peopled with the glimmering powers That sway the seasons, years, and hours ; And sun and moon the signal given, Arose and took their seat in heaven, High o'er the earth, to yield it light, And rule the day-time and the night. And far and near, in files of flame, The stars from out the darkness came, God's host in mystic ranks and signs, Marshalling their far-off beaconing lines. In silent order each bright band Bows to a secret high command, On separate pauseless mission sent For witness, guide and government. To heaven above, to earth below, The ordaining word of power doth go, And kings and priests, Lord, from Thee, Take their appointed ministry. Their lamps of clay Thy hand hath lit, Each for its different station fit, A globe of light, a twinkling spark, To rule the day, or cheer the dark. And Thou for each an orb has traced, Where we without or halt, or haste, May move in order calm and true, As the sky's white-robed pilgrims do. Baps of (ttrtatfoiu 259 happy arc the souls that stay In such harmonious course alway, And like the patient stars are found "Walking each day their quiet round. Deem not when on the heavens ye gaze, And see the midnight all ablaze, That we 'midst those bright strangers are An idle solitary star. Each soul, the living and the dead, The very earth whereon we tread, Is bound by mightiest, holiest ties, With all creation's destinies. The Christ of God, who dwells on high, In splendour of the Deity, Did take, Earth, from dust of Thine, That sacred Form, that Flesh Divine. For this thou ever shalt remain Link'd into life's eternal chain ; The fine-cleansed altar where the curse Was taken from the universe ; The Temple, from whose quires shall ring Those harps the lost ones used to string ; W r hose silent notes have marr'd so long The music of the angel's song. T. WlIYTEIIEAD. 260 JBaps: of ©reattom FIFTH DAY OF CREATION. And God said, Let the waters bring forth abundantly, the moving creature that hath life, and fowl that may fly above the earth. O'er the void and formless earth, In darkness lay the deep, When came the eternal spirit forth, And stirr'd its silent sleep : He moved amid the unshapen gloom, And through the mighty waters' womb The thrill of life did creep. Yet no sign of change it gave, Till God the bidding spoke ; Then straight within the heaving wave The hidden power awoke : And ocean teemed with living things, And heaven was swept with myriad wings, That from the waters broke. From that mystic deep arisen, Up, Christian spirit fly, As rose from out their watery prison The creatures of the sky : On this his rising-day prepare To meet thy Saviour in the air, And seek thy home on high. He unto heaven is gone ; And shouldst thou here below Round old delights be lingering on Thou canst not yet forego : Baps; of (ttwattoiu 26i O child of an immortal birth, Inheritor of more than earth, Thy better portion know. Here awhile contented be In quietness to glide, Like the mute creatures of the sea, On through the opposing tide : Move upward still, though dark and strong The world's dark waters foam along The torrent of their pride. Through the stream 'twixt earth and heaven Thy steady course be bent, While day by day shall strength be given To stem its swift descent : And think that still, with wings of love, The Eternal Spirit broods above The troublous element. T. Whttehead. SIXTH DAY OF CREATIOX. And God said, Let us make man in our image, after our likeness. 5 ' Last of creation's days, Last of the day's of woe, Which He, to whom be endless praise, Endured for us below : 262 Baps of Creation* Most sad, most sacred time, Now let me watch and pray, And muse upon Thy theme sublime Thou wondrous day. To-day, from Adam's side, Our mother Eve was made ; His beautiful and virgin bride, While He in sleep was laid. To-day, from Jesus' side, The Church, His spouse, arose ; Her life receiving from the tide, That as He slumbers, flows. The water and the blood, That still, as first, flow on, When 'neath the cross recording stood Thyself, Saint John. T. Whytehead. SEVENTH DAY. " And God rested on the seventh day from all His work which He had made. And God blessed the seventh day, and sanctified it. Sabbath of the saints of old, Day of mysteries manifold > By the Great Creator blest, Type of His eternal rest ; I with thoughts of Thee would seek To sanctify the closing week. 29apss of Cfreattom 263 Resting from His work, the Lord Spake to-day the hallowing word ; And His wondrous labour done, Now the everlasting Son Gave to heaven and earth the sign Of a wonder more Divine : Resting from His work, to-day In the tomb the Saviour lay, His sacred form from head to feet, Swathed in the winding-sheet, Lying in the rock alone, Hid behind the sealed stone. All that seventh day long, I ween, Mournful watched the Magdalene, Rising early, resting late, By the sepulchre to wait, In the holy garden glade, Where her buried Lord was laid. So as closed the Sabbath night, In Goshen watched the Israelite, Staff in hand, in pilgrim guise, By the slaughtered sacrifice, Waiting till the midnight cry Signal gave that God was nigh. So with Thee, till life shall end, I would solemn vigil spend ; Let me hew Thee, Lord, a shrine 264 Baps of Creation* In this rocky heart of mine, Where in pure embalmed cell, None but Thou may'st ever dwell. Myrrh and spices I will bring, My poor affections' offering ; Close the door from sight and sound Of the busy world around, And in patient watch remain Till my Lord appear again. Then the new Creation done, Shall be Thy endless rest begun : Jesu, keep me safe from sin, That I with them may enter in, And, danger past and toil at end, To Thy resting-place ascend. T. Whytehead. ~<3£§J^@f£4D^ JACOB'S BUEIAL. His sons carried him into the land of Canaan, and buried him in the cave of the field of Machpelah, which Abraham bought with the field for a possession of a burying place of Ephron the Hittite. before Mamre." OW Jacob rests where all his kindred are, The exile from the land in which of old D 3 His fathers lived and died, he comes from far To mix his ashes with their mortal mould. There, where he stood with Esau, in the cold Dim passage of the vault, with holy trust, His sons lay down the venerable dust. They laid him close by Leah, where she sleeps Far from her Syrian home, and never knows That Reuben kneels beside her feet and weeps, Nor glance of kindly recognition throws Upon her stately sons from that repose. His Rachel rests far-sundered from his side, Upon the way to Betlehem, where she died. Sleep on, weary saint ! thy bed is bless'd, Thou, with the pilgrim-staff of faith, hast passed Another Jordan, into endless rest : Well may they sleep who can serenely cast A look behind, while darkness closes fast Upon their path, and breathe thy parting word, " For Thy salvation I have waited, Lord." ^rrtpture Irenes;. 267 Long years will pass away, ere once again Thy silence, Machpelah ! shall be stirred ; The boughs will spread unpruned, and mosses stain The ancient stones where sings the lonesome bird ; But ne'er shall dust as saintly be interred Within thy silent vaults, nor rites be paid As solemn underneath thy hoary shade. j. d. burn- wells OF MAEAH. " And they went three days in the wilderness, and found no water. And when they came to Marah they could not drink of the waters of Marah, for they were bitter." By Marah's bitter fountains the hosts of Israel stand, As evening closes round them, a sad and weary band ; While sounds of lamentation rise on the summer air, The wail of woman's anguish, the groan of man's despair. Three days of desert journey their pilgrim feet have trod, Since through the parted billows they took their mid- night road ; And since on those returning waves the morning sunbeam shone, No other water have they found in all their journeying on. 268 Scripture Scenes. One hope alone sustained them through their long night of fear, The wells of Marah are at hand, each hour we come more near ; And now they gain the fountain side, they stand upon the brink, They see the living water rise, they taste, but dare not drink. Ah ! still the wells of Marah lie on our pilgrim way, And Israel's old sorrow is still our own to-day ; When some loved object long desired, and long pursued, we gain, And find, too late, the glory fled, the promise false and vain. Well, then, for those in such an hour, who know what Moses knew, And turn to Him who changeth not, the Faithful One and True, And from His loving heart receive, and from His gracious Hand, The cure for every ill they meet, through all the desert land. For in the wilderness of earth still grows the healing Tree, Unchanged in all its wondrous power to soothe and remedy ; Still, answering the cry of faith, will God the gift bestow, To pour a sweetness in each cup of bitter human woe. Scripture g>tme#. 269 And of that mighty secret, when our spirits are possest, We bless the storm that drove us to the haven of our rest : "We bless the shadowing clouds that darkened earthly skies, And taught our hearts to nobler joys above the clouds to rise. And now we do not ask to pass the bitter fountains by, But that our God may meet us there, to heal and sanctify ; And so to lead us onward, till the wilderness be passed, And safely through the city's gate we enter in at last. THE EUEIAL OP MOSES. " And they buried him in the valley in the land of Moab, over against Beth-peor : but no man knoweth of his sepulchre unto this day." By Nebo's lonely mountain, On this side Jordan's wave, In a vale in the land of Moab, There lies a lonely grave ; And no man dug the sepulchre, And no man saw it e'er ; For the angels of God upturned the sod And laid the dead man there. 270 Scripture &zmt$. That was the noblest funeral That ever passed on earth ; But no man heard the tramping, Or saw the train go forth. Noiselessly as the daylight Comes when the night is done, And the crimson streak on ocean's cheek Grows into the great sun. Noiselessly as the spring time Her crown of verdure weaves, And all the trees on all the hills Open their thousand leaves ; So without sound of music, Or voice of them that wept ; Silently down from the mountain's crown, The great procession swept. Perchance the bald old eagle On grey Beth-peor's height, Out of his rocky eyrie Looked on the wondrous sight. Perchance the lion, stalking, Still shuns that hallowed spot ; For beast and bird have seen and heard, That which man knoweth not. But when the warrior dicth, His comrades in the war, With arms reversed and muffled drum Follow the funeral car ; £>n ipture Irenes;. 271 They show the banners taken, They tell his battles won ; And behind him lead his masterless steed, While peals the minute gun. Amid the noblest of the land, Men lay the sage to rest, And give the bard an honour'd place, With costly marble drest, In the great Minster-transept, Where lights like glories fall ; And the choir sings, and the organ rings Along th' emblazoned walls. This was the bravest Warrior That ever buckled sword ; This the most gifted Poet That ever breathed a word ; And never earth's philosopher Traced with his golden pen, On the deathless page, truth half so sage, As he wrote down for men. And had he not high honour ? The cloud-wreath for his pall, To lie in state while angels wait With stars for tapers tall ; And the dark rock pines, like tossing plumes Over his bier to wave, And God's own hand in that lonely land, To lay him in the grave. 272 £>rrtpture Irenes* In that deep grave without a name, Whence his uncoffined clay Shall break again — most wondrous thought ! Before the judgment day ; And stand, with glory wrapped around, On the hills he never trod, And speak of the strife that won our life With th* Incarnate Son of God. O lonely tomb in MoaVs land ! dark Beth-peor's hill ! Speak to these curious hearts of ours, And teach them to be still. God hath His mysteries of grace, Ways that we cannot tell ; He hides them deep like the secret sleep Of him He loved so well. Whittier. THE CHILD SAMUEL. " And ere the lamp of God went out in the Temple of the Lord where the ark of God was, and Samuel was laid down to sleep, that the Lord called Samuel ; and he answered, ' Here am I."' Hushed was the evening hymn, The temple courts were dark ; The lamp was burning dim Before the sacred Ark ; When suddenly a voice Divine Rang through the silence of the shrine. 5>rripture Irenes;. 273 The old man, meek and mild, The priest of Israel, slept ; His watch the temple child The little Levite kept ; And what from Eli's sense was sealed, The Lord to Hannah's son revealed. give me Samuel's ear, The open ear, Lord, Alive and quick to hear Each whisper of Thy Word ; Like him, to answer at Thy call, And to obey Thee first of all. give me Samuel's heart, A lowly heart that waits, Where in Thy house, Thou art, Or watches at Thy gates ; By day and night, a heart that still Moves at the breathing of Thy will. give me Samuel's mind, A sweet unmurmuring faith, Obedient and resigned To Thee in life and death ; That I may read with child-like eyes, Truths that are hidden from the wise. 274 Scripture &tmt$. CHKIST'S BAPTISM. " Repent, for the Kingdom of Heaven is at hand." The voice of him who cries aloud, Is heard on Judah's waste, And soon a sinful sorrowing crowd Around the Baptist haste. And see, as they assemble thus, The spotless Lamb draws nigh, The Lamb, who gave Himself for us, To suffer and to die. John's mind with heavenly light supplied, The Source of life could see : " I need Thy washing, Lord," he cried, " And comest Thou to me?" But e'en though thus self-humbled, still His Word must be obeyed : He must in every point fulfil The law Himself has made. Herald of Christ, at length thine eyes The Mightier One have seen : 'Tis thine with water to baptize, 'Tis His with fire to clean. Praise to the Son, through whom alone Our stains of guilt are lost ; Like praise be to the Father done, And to the Holy Ghost. ILjmn of the Primitive Church, — Translated by Chandler. Scripture Scenes* 275 THE MIRACLE AT THE MARRIAGE EEAST. "Not grudgingly, or of necessity." The Hand that strews the earth with flowers, Enrich'd the marriage feast with wine : The Hand once pierced for sins of ours, This morning made the dew drops shine ; Makes rain-clouds palaces of art, Makes ice-drops beauteous as they freeze : The heart that bled to save, — that heart Sends countless gifts each day to please ; Spares no minute refining touch To paint the flower, to crown the feast, Deeming no sacrifice too much ; Has care and leisure for the least ; Gives freely of its very best, Not barely what the need may be, But for the joy of making bless'd, — Teach us to love and give like Thee ! Not narrowly men's claims to measure, But question daily all our powers : To whose cup can we add a pleasure ? Whose path can we make bright with flowers. From "The Three Wakings." T2 276 Scripture brutes* THE HOMELESS WANDERER. " Not where to lay His head." O'er the dark wave of Galilee The gloom of twilight gathers fast ; And on the waters drearily Descends the fitful evening blast. The weary bird hath left the air, And sunk into his shelter'd nest ; The wandering beast has sought its lair, And laid him down to welcome rest. Still, near the lake with weary tread, Lingers a form of human kind ; And on His lone unshelter'd head, Blows the chill night-damp of the wind. Why seeks He not a home of rest ? Why seeks He not a pillowed bed ? Beasts have their dens, the bird its nest, He hath " not where to lay His head." Such was the lot He freely chose, To bless, to save the human race ; And through His poverty there flows A rich full stream of Heavenly grace. RuSSEL. Scripture Ernies* 277 " What thing is this ? for with authority commandeth He even the unclean spirits, and they obey Him." where is He that trod the sea ? where is He that spake, And demons from their victims flee, The dead their slumbers break ? The palsied rise in freedom strong, The dumb men talk and sing ; And from blind eyes, benighted long, Bright beams of morning spring. where is He that trod the sea ? where is He that spake, And piercing words of liberty The deaf ears open shake ? And mildest words arrest the haste Of fever's deadly fire ; And strong ones heal the weak, who waste Their life in sad desire. where is He that trod the sea ? where is He that spake, And dark waves rolling heavily, A glassy smoothness take ? And lepers whose own flesh has been A living loathsome grave, See with amaze that they are clean, And cry, 'tis He can save ! 278 Scripture brents;* where is He that trod the sea ? Tis only He can save ; To thousands hungering wearily, A wondrous meal He gave ; Full soon, by tender mercy fed, Their heaven-sent fare they take, 'Twas springtide when He blest the bread, 'Twas harvest when He brake. where is He that trod the sea ? My soul the Lord is here, Let all thy fears be hushed in Thee, To leap, to look, to hear. Be thine : — thy needs He'll satisfy : Art thou diseased or dumb, Or dost thou in thy hunger cry ? " I come," saith Christ, " I come ! " THE CHILD SET IN THE MIDST, There is a child of mystery, Whose name I do not know ; But his little footsteps haunt me, Like music sweet and low. Scripture &ttm$. 279 His face sleeps, calm in the twilight Of the ancient solemn years ; And the shade of the Cross is o'er him With its Eternal tears. For the Eyes of infinite Sorrow Looked on him clear and mild ; While in earth's strife and battle, A soft and humble child. The features meek and innocent, The golden waving hair, The glance of peace and purity, Arise before me there. Earth shrouds in tender silence The little spot she gave ; The heaping dust of centuries Lies on his unknown grave. I cannot tell how life looked on him, If her face was stern and mild, As she drew from her mystic bundle The lot of that favored child. If he faded back like a sunbeam Into the realms of day ; Or if he trod with sorrow A yet diviner way. I know that the lips of the Holiest Have comforted those that mourn, — That the hand of Eternal Pity Holds forth the crown of thorn. 280 Scripture £>aiu& But I like to think of him passing, Like the bright morning star, Into that quiet region Where the infant angels are. I like to think of his little feet Climbing the heavenly stair ; Of his eyes in their wondering meekness Waking to glory there. And the same dim music sounds When I think of that blessed child, As the perfumed lilies breathed On which the Saviour smiled. CHKIST KAISING THE WIDOW'S SON. Now when He came nigh to the gate of the city, behold there was a dead man carried out, the only son of his mother, and she was a widow, and much people of the city was with her." " Stark, Stark ! that arm which steered the skifT Thro* Galilee's white surf; Leaden that foot which chased the deer O'er Tabor's bounding turf. * " On Carmel's height the shepherd sings, Soft wavg the trees on Lebanon ; Iiut neither song nor summer greets The widow's only son. Scripture Irenes?* 28i " starch, march, — the pale procession swings With measured, solemn tread ; Woe, woe ! yon gaping sepulchre Is calling for the dead. " And bitter is the wail that weeps The widow's treasured joy ; And gladly would she lay her down Beside her darling boy. " Halt, halt ! a Hand is on the bier, And life stirs 'neath the shroud : Rise, Rise ! and view the Form Divine Who wakes thee midst the crowd. " And as the mother clasps her son, In awe-struck ecstasy ; Turn thou to Him thine eyes new op'ed Whose word was ' Let there be/ " Home, home ! to make that mother glad, And recompense her tears ; And home to give that Saviour-God This second lease of years. " And when amidst a greater crowd, Thou hear'st that voice again, May rising saints see Jesus in The widow's son of Xain." Hamilton. 282 £>rriptur* Rentes. BLIND EAETIMEUS. A crowd to Jericho approach'd — And lo ! as on they sped, A blind man sat beside the way, And ask'd his daily bread. He heard the sound of many feet, And sought the reason why ; And learned that Jesus — David's son — Of Nazareth passed by. And loudly now on Him he calls, And still his tones increase, As voices from the crowd he hears Bidding him hold his peace. But One, on whom none call in vain, Had also heard his cry — And paused to list the sufferer's prayer As He was passing by. He hears that loving, gentle voice, Ask what his wish may be ; One life-long, yearning wish was his, " Lord, let the blind man see." But who the blind man's joy can tell, As broke upon his sight, The heavenly radiance of His face Who said, " Receive thy sight !" Scripture &nx\t$. 283 Oh, sick at soul ! Oh, blind of heart ! Why lift ye not your cry ? Since He, who had all power to save, To-day is passing by ! CHEIST KEBUKIISiG PETEE. vi From all the deceits of the world, the flesh, and the devil good Lord deliver us." — Litany. " Then Peter took Him and began to rebuke Him, saying — Be it far from Thee, Lord ; this shall not be unto Thee." (Marginal reading — " Pity thyself.'^) " Pity thyself! " Words seeming kind ! But met with stern rebuke ; For Jesus knew what lurked behind The words that Peter spake. He tracked in them the serpent's wile, That foe to man — offence to God, Who erst the woman did beguile, But now must 'neath her Seed be trod. Behold him take an angel-form, A demon's work to do ; For robed in light he hides the storm, That would a world undo. 284 Scripture &ttnt#. 'Twas not to spare, but firm abide All suffering, — Jesus came ; Nor must those shrink or turn aside Who bear the Master's Name. " Pity thyself ! "—How oft this checks The high resolve, the generous aim ? How oft the fairest hopes it wrecks, And robs the Saviour of His claim ! Ah ! when to lay up earthly hoard We " labour in the very fire ;" Not oft we hear the warning word Of spare — to check our low desire. Lord, teach Thou us the holy art, Of when to spare, and when to spend; To spare for Thee, the grace impart, Spend, and be spent for our True Friend. A SOJTO OF THE DISCIPLES. " Then Jesus saith unto them, Children, have ye any meat ? All through the wild and starless night, We drag our empty nets in vain, We toil until the morning's light, Barren of life seems all the main. — Scripture Irenes* 285 The world's wide waters yield us naught To satisfy our longing thought — Wlien o'er the waves a voice comes sweet : " 0, children, have ye any meat ? " The Stranger stands upon the shore, We know Him not, He seems so far ; But o'er the billows muffled roar, We cry as to a guiding star : " No, Lord, none, none ; we still have fed On dry husks, long since winnowed, We have no gold to bay us wheat, Behold, we have not any meat ! " " No, Lord, ah ! no ; we hunger sore, A.nd all these waters yield no food ; But yet to linger on the shore, Perchance within the reach of good Our hands from out the deep may win, Were double pain and double sin ; So we toil on through cold and heat, But now, we have not any meat." " Nay, but such toil will profit naught, Self-chosen labour brings no gain, Let down your nets now for a draught, This time it shall not be in vain. A higher hand than your's must guide — Ye must lay down self-trusting pride, E'er ye can render answer meet To — ' Children, have ye any meat?' " 286 Scripture &ttnt$. We heard, and we believed the word, And it was even as He had said, And then we knew it was the Lord, As towards the land our boat we sped ; Yet could not speed it for the weight Of the net, strained with living freight ; We fain would leave it for His feet, And cry, " We have not any meat ! " For e'en this meat which thou hast given, Would not fulfil our high desire ; But Thou dost break the bread of heaven, And Thou dost kindle heavenly fire. Then layest on the altar-flame The symbol of Thy holy name, And callest us to sit and eat : " Come, children, to the soul's true meat." Then from the fullness of this feast, Made ready by the risen Lord, We rise with love towards the least Of those that wait upon His word ; Ready to feed as we are fed, To break to all the heavenly bread, And all the way-side wanderers greet With — " Brethren have ye any meat ? " Beady, if Him indeed we love With the love threefold we have vowed To follow Him where'er He move, And 'neath a cross like His be bowed ; ^rnpture Irenes* 287 Or else to tarry, if He will, By the lone sheepfold, mindful still How from the shore that voice came sweet, — "0, children, have ye any meat?" M. G. T. JESUS AT THE WELL OE SICHAR. " Then cometh he to a city of Samaria, which is called Sychar, Now Jacob's well was there. Jesus therefore being wearied, sat thus on the well ; Then cometh a woman of Samaria to draw water : Jesus saith unto her, give me to drink Jesus answered and said unto her, If thou knewest the gift of God. and who it is that saith to thee, Give me to drink ; thou wouldst have asked of him, and he would have given thee living water." Sweet was the hour, Lord, to Thee, At Sychar's lonely well, When a poor outcast heard Thee there Thy great salvation tell. Thither she came, but, oh, her heart, All filled with earthly care, Dreamed not of Thee, nor thought to find " The Hope of Israel there." Lord ! 'twas thy power unseen that drew The stray one to that place, In solitude to learn from Thee, The secrets of Thy grace. 288 Btviptnxt £rene& There Jacob's erring daughter found Those streams unknown before, The water-brooks of life that make The weary thirst no more. As once of old the living water, Lord Jesus, Thou did'st give, At Sychar, to Samaria's daughter, So bid us drink and live. In spirit, Lord, we'll sit with Thee, Beside the springing well Of life and peace, and hear Thee there, Its healing virtue tell. Dead to the world, we'll dream no more Of earthly pleasures now, Our deep, divine, unfailing spring Of grace and glory Thou. No hope of rest in aught beside, No beauty, Lord, we see, But seek the rest, the peace, the joy, That dwells, our God, with Thee ! Scripture &mxt$. 289 GENNESA.HET. And behold, there arose a great tempest in the sea, insomuch that the ship was covered with the waves : but He was asleep. And the disciples came to Him and awoke Him, saying, Lord save us, we perish. Then he arose, and rebuked the winds and the sea, and there was a great calm." On the lone bosom of a lake, Contending surges fiercely met, " Be still " — 'twas thus the Saviour spake, And thou wert calm — Gennesaret ! Whene'er with sad forebodings filled, When guilty fears my bosom fret, I'll turn to Him who gently still'd Thy raging waves — Gennesaret ! I'll think of that more fearful storm, When wrathful thunders fiercely met Around the Cross of Him, whose form Mov'd 'mid thy waves — Gennesaret ! When quivering lip, and eye-ball dim, Proclaim life's sun about to set, I'll lean upon the arm of Him Who still'd thy waves — Gennesaret ! Safe landed on that heavenly shore, My heart shall have but one regret, That here I did not love Him more, Who walked thy waves — Gennesaret ! u 290 Scripture Irenes;. Lord ! let Thy love my bosom fill, While toss'd on life's rough surges yet ; Speak Thine own mandate — " Peace, be still ! " Which calm'd of old, Gennesaret. THE WOMAN THAT WAS A SINNER, ; This man, if he were a prophet, would have known who and manner of woman this is that toucheth him : for she is a sinner." Oh, turn not such a withering look On one who still can feel ; Nor, by a cold and harsh rebuke, An outcast's misery seal ! But think, ere thus the mourner's sigh,- The mourner's tears you spurn, That 'tis perhaps a Friend on high Who prompts my late return ! The haunts of vice might pleasing seem, When first I iong'd to stray ; But Ah ! one hour dispelled the dream, And dash'd my joys away. Amidst the crowds in pleasure's bower My heart was still forlorn ; ■ And where I thought to find a flower, I only felt a thorn. J&m'iitua Jxeneaf* Oh, say not, then, the cup of wrath I must submit to drain, When in the safe, the narrow path, I wish to tread again ! It is not thus the Gospel speaks To those who cease from sin ; The soul, Immanuel's fold that seeks, Is ever welcomed in. And say not that my guilt is great — I know, I feel 'tis true ; But while I groan beneath its wei I hope for pardon too. Beyond the reach of grace Divine Myself I have not thrown ; And once, at least, to guilt like mine, My Lord has mercy shown. When such a wandering sheep as I Was unto Jesus brought, And all the cruel standers-by A rigid sentence sought ; The feeble reed He would not break, Though it was bruised sore ; The gentle words the Saviour spake, Were, — " Go, and sin no moi. Dr. I L'2 292 J&>rripture ^mtesu CHEIST IN THE PHARISEE'S HOUSE. And, behold, a woman in the city, which was a sinner, when she knew that Jesus sat at meat in the Pharisee's house, brought an alabaster box of ointment, and stood at His feet behind Him weep- ing, and began to wash His feet with tears, and did wipe them with the hairs of her head, and kissed His feet, and anointed them with the ointment." Yes, weep, woman, frail and fair ; Though tears, that fall so fast Amid that bright up-braided hair, Can ne'er efface the past. Though other drops, whose power Divine, Can wash thy stains away, Must plead e'en more than tears like thine. More holy still than they. Had He who pardons bid thee bring Those tears His love to buy, That Word had ne'er unsealed the spring That fills thy streaming eye. Ah ! 'twas not Sinai's flash that taught That frozen fount to thaw ; JSTo — milder, mightier rays it caught, And, lo, the waters flow ! Pour, then, thine odours — pour and see, In Him on whom they fall, The vase of clay, that holds for thee Balm costlier far than all. Scripture &m\t$+ 293 More fragrant unction on that brow Rests where His Father smil'd ; He bears a brother's name, for thou — Thou, too, art call'd a child. Oh wondrous ! — pour a heaven of tears : When sin's erased above, How dark that record torn appears, In the full light of love ! S. M. Waring. PETER WEEPING. And the Lord turned and looked upon Peter. And Peter remembered the word of the Lord, how He said unto him. Before the cock crow, thou shalt deny Me thrice. And Peter went out and wept bitterly/' " strong in purpose — frail in power, Where now the pledge so lately given ? Coward — to creatures of an hour ; Bold to the challenged bolts of heaven ! " Shall that fierce eye e'er pour the stream Of heart- wrung tears before its God ? — Thus did the rock in Horeb seem, One moment ere it felt the rod. " But Jesus turns — mysterious drops Before that kindly glance flow fast ; — So melt the snows from mountain tops, When the dark wintry hour is past. i 294 ^cnptuvf ^ffiusf. " What might it be that glance could paint ? Did one deep-touching impress blend The more than sage — the more than saint — The One, the Everlasting Friend ? i; Was it that lightening thought retrac'd Some hallowed hour beneath the moon Or walk, or converse high, that grac'd The Temple's column'd shade at noon P " Say, did that face to memory's eye, With gleams of Tabor's glory shine ? Or did the dews of agony Still rest upon that brow Divine ? " I know not, — but I know a will That, Lord, might frail as Peter's be ! A heart that had denied Thee still, E'en now — without a look from Thee ! S. M.Vabixg. " The disciple whom Jesus loved." There lies a little lonely isle Where dark the salt waves run, And Grecian fishers dry their nets Against the Eastern sun ; And, many a hundred years ago, Within that island fair, There dwelt an exiled Jewish man, A man of reverend air ; ^>rripture Irenes* 295 His eye was bright as setting suns, His aged form unbent ; The little children following, He blest them as he went. That head beloved, at supper-time Had leant on Jesus' breast ; That honored hand had taken home His mother for a guest. That eye had seen in glorious trance Mysterious things to be, Wild visions of impending doom On heaven, and earth, and sea. His pen had writ of times to come, Of dearer times by-gone ; He was the fisher's chosen son, The Lord's beloved John. And he had drank his Master's cup So long, so patiently, And now he lingered there, the last, Till Christ should set him free. I wish I'd lived in those old times, And been a Grecian child, To hear that old man's blessing kind, To meet him when he smiled. To hear the words of holy love That ever from his lips Fell gentle, as the evening dew The thirsty blossom sips. 296 Scripture Irenes* But love endureth thro' all age : Nor time, nor distance drear, Divide trie living and the dead Of Christ's communion dear. For all His saints in Him are one ; The exile o'er the sea, — The child within his English home, — The struggling and the free. The holy John hath rest at last ; He wears the promised crown, And still by that dear Church he watched, His words are handed down. And we shall meet him, not as once, On that far island shore, But were apostles, martyrs, saints, Have peace for evermore. Mim c "Walking in the fear of the Lord," ^EAR ! yea truly Lord, a sinner must S^ Often fear while lie is dust ; S^ While he owns a heart within, So full of earthliness and sin. O never let my spirit be So full of false security, As to walk while wandering here, 'Mid sinful men without a fear ! It is not that I doubt my God, Nor yet the power of Jesus' bloo-d ; That His love could ever leave me, Or His truth could e'er deceive me ! It is not that I think His power Could fail me in the darkest hour ! Nor that death or hell could ever Me from my Redeemer sever ! But 'tis — lest I should grieve his grace, And He should hide from me His face ; And tho' He ne'er would let me go, Still I might lose my joy below. Lord, when I'm weak, then Thou art strong ; When I am sad, Thou'lt be my song ; And when I fail, or faint, or fear, I'll recollect that Thou art near. fElterdlaneousu 299 For aye, the closer I have trod In daily commune with my God ; Full well I know Fve found within, Less fear, — because less frequent sin. Then tho' I rest upon Thee, Lord ; And trust Thine ever-faithful word ; And not a shade of doubt could make Me think, Thou ever would'st forsake, Still never let my spirit be So full of false security, As to walk while wand'ring here, 'Mid sinful men without a fear. From " Parish Musings " by J. B. Moxsell. THE HIDDEX CROSS. ; ' For My thoughts are not your thoughts, saith the Lord." " For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, thoughts of peace and not of evil, to give you an expected end." " And when that happy time shall come of peace and rest. We shall look back upon our path and say It was the best." It was a time of sadness — and my heart, Although it loved and knew the better part, Felt wearied with the conflict and the strife, And all the needful discipline of life. 300 iHfsrellaneous;* And while I thought on these — as given to me, My trial tests of faith and love to be, It seemed as though I never could be sure, That faithful to the end I should endure. And thus no longer trusting to His might Who says, " We walk by faith and not by sight ; " Doubting, and almost yielding to despair, The thought arose — " My cross I cannot bear." Far heavier its weight must surely be Than those of others which I daily see ; Oh if I might another burden choose, Methinks I should not fear my crown to lose. A solemn silence reigned on all around, E'en nature's voices uttered not a sound ; The evening shadows seemed of peace to tell, And sleep upon my weary spirit fell. A moment's pause — and then a heavenly light Beam'd full upon my wondering sight ; Angels on silvery wings seemed everywhere, And angels' music thrill'd the balmy air. Then One, more fair than all the rest to see, One — unto whom all others bow'd the knee ; Came gently to me as I trembling lay, And " Follow Me," He said, " I am the Way." iHfettllaneousi* 301 Then speaking thus, He led me far above, And there beneath a canopy of love, Crosses of divers shapes and size were seen, Larger and smaller than mine own had been. And one there was most beauteous to behold, A little one, with jewels set in gold ; — Ah, this, methought, I can with comfort wear, For it will be an easy one to bear. And so the little cross I quickly took, But all at once my frame beneath it shook ; The sparkling jewels, fair they were to see, But far too heavy was their weight for me. This may not be, I cried, and look'd again To see if there were any here could ease my pain ; But one by one I passed them slowly by, Till on a lovely one I cast mine eye. Fair flowers around its sculptured form entwined, And grace and beauty seem'd in it combined ; Wondering I gazed — and still I wondcr'd more, To think so many should have passed it o'er. But, oh ! that form so beautiful to see, Soon made its hidden sorrows known to me ; Thorns lay beneath those flowers and colours fair ; Sorrowing, I said, " This cross I may not bear/' 302 J$tssrelIaneQuss* And so it was with each and all around, Not one to suit my need could there be found ; Weeping, I laid each heavy burden down, As my Guide gently said' " No cross — no crown. At length to Him I raised my sadden'd heart, He knew its sorrows, bid its doubts depart; — " Be not afraid," He said, "but trust in Me, My perfect love shall now be shewn to thee." And then with lightened eyes and willing feet, Again I turned, my earthly cross to meet ; With forward footsteps, turning not aside, For fear some hidden evil might betide. And there, in the prepared appointed way, Listening to hear, and ready to obey, A cross I quickly found of plainest form, With only words of love inscribed thereon. With thankfulness I raised it from the rest, And joyfully acknowledged it the best, — The only one of all the many there, That I could feel was good for me to bear. And while I thus my chosen one confess'd, I saw a heavenly brightness on it rest ; And as I bent — my burden to sustain — I recognised my own old cross again. f&fettIIaiWOU& 303 But oh, how different did it seem to be ! Now I had learned its preciousness to see ; No longer could I unbelieving say, Perhaps another is a better way. Ah, no ! henceforth my one desire shall be, That He who knows me best should choose for me ; And so whate'er His love sees good to send, I'll trust ; it's best — because He knows the end. A. L. Waring. GUSTAVUS ADOLPHUS' BATTLE SOXG. "If ever a man subordinated self to the cause he contended for, it was surely the Great Gustavus. And he has his reward in kind The life he so unflinchingly offered to stem the returning flood of Romanism, was accepted, and the flood was stayed. The hero died at Lutzen, and the faith he had contended for, held its ground in Germany. From that noble heart, in which northern strength and northern tenderness, the lofty he- roism of an old Viking, were so wonderfully blended, one psalm has come down to us. Its composition was characteristic. The brave king was no man of letters. The fire of faith which burned in his heart, was more wont to fuse the iron of heroic deeds, than the gold of beautiful words. But the thoughts were in his heart ; had they not inspired him in march and battle-field ? So he told his chaplain, Dr. Jacob Fabricius, what his thoughts were, and the chaplain moulded them into three verses of a hymn, and the simple-hearted hero took them ever after as his battle song." — From The Voice of Christina Lift in - x :- Be not dismayed thou little flock, Although the foe's fierce battle shock, Loud on all sides assail thee. 304 JftisfcellaneousJ* Though o'er thy fall they laugh secure. Their triumph cannot long endure, Let not thy courage fail thee. Thy cause is God's — go at his call, And to His Hand commit thy all ; Fear thou no ill impending : His Gideon shall arise for thee, God's Word and people manfully, In God's own time defending. Our hope is sure in Jesus' might, Against themselves the Godless fight, Themselves, not us, distressing : Shame and contempt their lot shall be y God is with us, with Him are we, To us belongs His blessing. HONOUR. " Honour all men. Honour is tender human love, Late seen and touched by each of us, Again descended from above, And changed to be ubiquitous. iWtstcellaneou^ 305 Noli me tang ere ! 'Tis grown Conscious of self; yet if the way Of honour is to have his own, 'Tis but in care that others may. He plies no self-suspecting strife His own repute with men to raise ; He thinks them just ; and lives his life Conferring, not beseeching praise. He greatly scorns their faithless mood, Who, traitors to the social tie, Believe the ill before the good, And benefit of doubt deny. And nobly, when he cannot know Whether a 'scutcheon's dubious field, Carries a falcon, or a crow, Blazons a falcon on the shield. Yet careful ever not to part God's honour who creates success, His praise of even the best desert, Is but to have presumed no less. And should his own deeds plaudits bring, He's simply vexed at heart, that such An easy, yea, delightful thing, Should move the minds of men so much. His home is home ; his chosen lot, A private place and private name ; But, if the world's want calls, he'll not Eufuse the indignities of fame. x 306 i^ferellaneousJ* HAYELOCK. " Be thou faithful unto death, and I will give thee a crown of life.' He is gone. Heaven's will is best : Indian turf o'erlies his breast. Ghoul in black; nor fool in gold Laid him in yon hallowed mould. Guarded to a soldier's grave By the bravest of the brave : He hath gained a nobler tomb, Than in old cathedral gloom. Nobler mourners paid the rite Than the crowd that craves a sight : England's banners o'er him waved ; Dead, — he keeps the realm he saved> Strew not on the hero's hearse, Garland's of a herald's verse : Let us hear no words of fame Sounding loud a deathless name. Tell us of no vauntful glory, Shouting forth her haughty story : All life long his homage rose, To far other shrine than those. " In hoc signo," pale nor dim Lit the battle field for him ; And the prize he sought and won, Was the crown for duty done. Done as unto Christ his Lord, In obedience to His Word. ittisfrcllaneousi* 30' THE EIGHT MUST WIN. it is hard to work for God, To rise and take His part Upon this tattle-field of earth, And not sometimes lose heart ! He hides Himself so wondrously, As though there was no God ; He is least seen when all the powers Of ill are most abroad. Or he deserts us in the hour The fight is all but lost ; And seems to leave us to ourselves Just when we need Him most. there is less to try our faith In our mysterious creed, Than in the Godless look of earth, In these our hours of need. Ill masters good : good seems to change To ill with greatest ease ; And, worst of all, the good with good Is at cross purposes. It is not so, but so it looks, And we lose courage then ; And doubts will come, if God hath kept His promises to men. x2 Jos fftferrilaneousu Ah ! God is other than we think ; His ways are far above, Far beyond reason's height, and reached Only by child-like love. The look, the fashion of God's ways Love's life-long study are ; She can be bold, and guess, and act, Where reason would not dare. She has a prudence of her own, Her step is firm and free ; Yet there is cautious science, too, In her simplicity. Workman of God ! lose not heart, But learn what God is like ; And in the darkest battle-field Thou shalt know where to strike. blest is he to whom is given The instinct that can tell That God is on the field, when He Is most invisible ! And blest is he who can divine Where real right doth lie ; And dares to take the side that seems Wrong to man's blindfold eye ! O learn to scorn the praise of men ! learn to lose with God ! For Jesus won the world through shame, And beckons thee His road. Jtflferdlaitfous* 309 God's glory is a wondrous thing, Most strange in all its ways ; And of all things on earth least like What men agree to praise. As he can endless glory weave From time's misjudging shame ; In his own world he is content To play a losing game. Muse on His justice, down-cast soul ! Muse, and take better heart ; Back with thine angel to the field, Good luck shall crown thy part ! God's justice is a bed where we Our anxious hearts may lay ; And, weary with ourselves, may sleep Our discontent away. For right is right, since God is God, And right the day must win ; To doubt would be disloyalty, To falter would be sin ! Fabeb. 3io fHtstrllaneousu DURABLE EICHES. The meanest creature of His care Finds some soft nest to greet it made ; The hunted beast has yet its lair, — He had not where to lay His head. And scarce a little child that dies, But has its treasured things to share ; Its little store of legacies, Love hoards thenceforth with sacred care. He left no treasure to divide ; E'en the poor garments which He wore, Were shared by strangers ere He died, For their own worth and nothing more. Yet when the first disciples trod Vineyards and fields of other men, Pilgrims beside the Son of God, Had royal grants enrich'd them then ? Or when, on His Ascension Day, They stood once more on Olivet ; And town and village 'neath them lay, Gems in their vines and olives set, — Nor vines or olives, house or lands, They own'd those hills and valleys o'er, Yet when Christ lifted up His hands And bless'd them, were those Christians poor ? JWfettUaiwou& 311 If of that world which is His own, Where every knee to Him shall bow ; Some special acres each had won, Had they been richer then, or now ? From " The Three Wakings" OTJK ONE LIFE. u Occupy till I come." Tis not for man to trifle ! Life is brief And sin is here ; Our age is but the falling of a leaf — A dropping tear ; We have no time to sport away the hours, All must be earnest in a world like ours. Not many lives, but only one have we — Frail fleeting man ! How sacred should that one life ever be — That narrow span ! Day after day filled up with blessed toil, Hour after hour still bringing in new spoil. 312 iWfeceIIaneou& Our being is no shadow of thin air, No vacant dream ; No fable of the things that never were, But only seem. Tis full of meaning as of mystery, Though strange, and solemn may that meaning be. Our sorrows are no phantom of the night, No idle tale ; No cloud that floats along a sky of light, On summer gale. They are the true realities of earth — Friends and companions, even from our birth. 0, life below — how brief, how poor, and sad ! One heavy sigh. 0, life above — how long, how fair, and glad ! An endless joy. Oh, to have done for aye with dying here ! Oh, to begin the living in yon sphere ! 0, day of time, how dark ! O sky and earth How dull your hue ! 0, day of Christ, how bright ! 0, sky and earth, Made fair and new ! Come, better Eden, with thy fresher green ; Come, brighter Salem, gladden all the scene I ittferrilaneou** 313 THE BOEDER LAND. These lines were sent by a lady to a friend who wrote frequently to know where she had been for several months, that she had not written to her. She had been to the gates of the grave, in a long and severe illness. I have been to a land, a Border Land, Where there was but a strange dim light ; Where shadows and dreams in a spectral band, Seem'd real to the aching sight. I scarce bethought me how there I came, Or if thence I should pass again ; Its morning and night were mark'd by the flight, Or coming, of woe and pain. But I saw from this land, this Border Land, With its mountain ridges hoar, That they look'd across to a wondrous strand, — A bright and unearthly shore. Then I turn'd me to Him, " the Crucified," In most humble faith and prayer, Who had ransom'd with blood my sinful soul, For I thought He would call me there. Yet, nay : for awhile in the Border Land He bade me with patience stay, And gather rich fruits, with a trembling hand, Whilst He chased its gloom away ; He had led me amid those shadows dim, And shown that bright world so near, To teach me that earnest Trust in Him, Is " the one thing needful " here. 314 JWfettHaneousJ* And so from the land, the Border Land, I have turned me to earth once more ; But earth and its works were such trifles, scann'd By the light of that radiant shore. And oh ! should they ever possess me again, Too deeply in heart and hand, I must think how empty they seem'd and vain, From the heights of the Border Land. The Border Land has depths and vales Where sorrow for sin was known, Where small seem'd great, as weighed in scales Held by God's hand alone. ? Twas a land where earthly pride was naught, Where the poor were brought to mind, With their scanty bed, their fireless cot, And their bread so hard to find. But little I heard in the Border Land Of all that passed below ; The once loud voices of human life, To the deafen'd ear were low. I was deaf to the clang of its trumpet call, And alike to its gibe or its sneer ; Its riches were dust, and the loss of all Would then scarce have cost a tear. I met with a Friend in the Border Land, Whose teaching can come with power, To the blinded eye and the deafen'd ear In Affliction's loneliest hour. JWisittlIatttOtt& 315 " Times of refreshing " to the soul In languor, oft He brings ; Prepares it then to meditate On high and glorious things. Oh, Holy Ghost ! too often grieved In health and earthly haste, I bless those slow and silent hours Which seemed to run to waste ; I would not but have passed those " depths," And such communion known, As can be held in the Border Land, With Thee, and Thee alone. I have been to a land, to a Border Land ; May oblivion never roll O'er the mighty lessons which there and then Have been graven on my soul ! I have trodden a path I did not know, Safe in my Saviour's hand : I can trust Him for all the future, now I have been to a Border Land. L. N. R. THE PEARL, A MEDITATION ON THE SEA SHORE. Go, find a friend ! and where, oh, where, Is found that " pearl " so pure and rare ? Not every shell, the waves of life 316 Jftfettllanfousf* Cast in their lap of storm and strife, Affords the gem to be enshrined For ever in the constant mind. Go, find a friend ! — that ocean wide Has forms of beauty and of pride At once to win th' admiring eye, Yet not in these " the pearl " doth lie ; Its rougher bed, its homelier shell, Let the deep gulf of Ormus tell. Go, find a friend ! — in early youth, We dream the dream of trust and truth, In every beauteous form we see, Look for the "pearl " confidingly: Pursue— possess — and find there dwells No treasure in the empty shells. Go, find a friend ! — he is not found Always where genius sheds around Its dazzling phosphorescent light, Like that which streaks the seas at night, We may not trust that fitful ray Alone to gild life's dark long way. Go, find a friend ! — dive deep — the pearl Floats not on ocean's rippling curl, Not every gleam from kindly eyes, Where kindred feeling seeming lies, Must charm ; till time and trial tell If sorrow it can soothe as well. Mtettllmxtom. 317 Go, find a friend ! — and first arise To Him, the " ark " doth symbolize ; A friend in Jesus — who can need Aught other than the " Friend indeed " ? His favour found, the " pearl of price " — Make life His willing sacrifice. There may be hours of lonely pain Which earthly love would soothe in vain ; Nor life, nor death, have shades too deep For Christ to watch the sufferer weep, And gently dry each falling tear, Saying, " Fear not ! for I am here." This Friend of friends, if thou hast tried, For all thy need will still provide ; To Him His hidden ones are known ; Through every land His pearls are strewn ; Cast wheresoe'er thy lot may be, Some will find fellowship with thee. And, oh ! when all these pearls are bound Those meek once-suffering brows around Each fitting here, in several way, To crown Him on that glorious day. What matter how — what matter where — So they at last are numbered there ? 318 Jftfcrdlaiteousu THE IVY.— CHAEITY. " Charity shall cover the multitude of sins." How busily thou weav'st thy emerald vest, Unfading climber, round the fabrics frail Of man's uprearing ; still, with ceaseless toil, Striving to hide Time's envious ravages, And bind together the dissolving ruin ! Thou lendest beauty to decay and death, And throw'st a loveliness round loveless things. Yes, I will learn from thee. My neighbour's sin I, if I cannot cure, at least may hide ; If he want goodness, why should I want love ? He that did form me hid my sinful heart From the keen glances of my fellow-men, Lest they should hate me. Shall I dare to strip My brother's bosom, so much like my own, And hold him up to hatred or to scorn ? Shall I unveil a fellow sinner's heart With devilish industry, his foibles tell, And find delight in his depravity ? No, — God forgive us both ; all, all have sinned, And need, and should show, mercy; each should hide His brother's failings, as he hopes from God For mercy in his turn, and strive to veil The sin-born ruin of his neighbour's soul With the broad loving leaf of Charity. S. W. Partridge. Jtflferdlaneous* 319 THE STOKECEOP.— CONTEXT WITH LITTLE. " Having food and raiment, let us therewith be content." The earthless roof, the earthless roof alone, Is thy best bed fair child of penury ; And yet thou thrivest on thy lean estate, And bear'st thyself most joyous. Unlike some, Thou pulest not about thy want and woe, Nor lookest with askant and grudging eye On better-faring neighbours. Pleased, content, Thou enviest not thy mates their proud to-days, Nor fear'st thine own to-morrows. Happy child, Thine is the best philosophy, from thee I would learn wisdom, thus to make " / wish" The glad contented servant of " 1 have" Knowing although my store, like thine, be scant, My wants are scantier still. Though others boast Their wide ancestral lands, and coffers deep, Let me enjoy what many but possess, And prove to Mammon's sons 'tis what we are, Not what we have, makes happy and content. I would be mine own riches — and my purse, Myself, and th' uncoined treasure of my heart. Let what, not where, be still my chief concern, And though I be flung out from fortune's lap, And tossed upon some bare and unsunned spot, There I may thrive, and blossom ; live to Him Whose judgment not the mightiest may avoid, Whose loving smile the meanest may secure. S. W. Partridge. 320 iffflferdlaneous;* LOYE TO OUR ENEMIES. When on the fragrant sandal tree The woodman's axe descends, And she who bloomed so beauteously Beneath the keen stroke bends. E'en on the edge that wrought her death, Dying, she breathes her sweetest breath, As if betokening in her fall, Peace to her foes, and love to all. How hardly man this lesson learns, To smile and bless the hand that spurns ; To see the blow, to feel the pain, But render only love again. This spirit not to earth is given ; One had it — but He came from heaven, Reviled, rejected, and betrayed, No curse He breathed, no plaint He made ; But when in death's deep pang he sighed, Prayed for His murderers, and died ! WORDS. Words are lighter than the cloud-foam Of the restless ocean spray ; Vainer than the trembling shadow That the next hour steals away. iHterellaneousf* 321 By the fall of summer raindrops Is the air as deeply stirred ; And the rose-leaf that we tread on Will outlive a word. Yet on the dull silence breaking With a lightning flash, a Word Bearing endless desolation On its blighting wings, I heard : Earth can forge no keener weapon, Dealing surer death and pain, And the cruel echo answered, Through long years again. I have known one word hang stariike O'er a dreary waste of years, And it only shone the brighter Looked at through a mist of tears ; While a weary wanderer gathered Hope and heart on Life's dark way, By its faithful promise, shining Clearer day by day. I have known a spirit calmer Than the calmest lake, and clear As the heavens that gazed upon it, With no wave of hope or fear ; But a storm had swept across it, And its deepest depths were stirred ; Never, never more to slumber, Only by a word. 322 Jfttsscdlanecms;* I have known a word more gentle Than the breath of summer air ; In a listening heart it nestled ; And it lived for ever there. Not the beating of its prison Stirred it ever, night or day ; Only with the heart's last throbbing Could it fade away. Words are mighty, words are living : Serpents with their venomous sting, Or bright angels, crowding round us, With heaven's light upon their wings Every word has its own spirit, True or false, that never dies ; Every word man's lips have uttered Echoes in God's skies. TEIFLES. " A grain of sand upon the sight May rob a giant of his might ; Or needle-point let out his breath, And make a banquet meal for death. JfttectHaneousL 323 " How often at a single word, The heart with agony is stirred, And ties that years could not have riven, Are scattered to the winds of heaven. " A glance that looks what lips would speak, Will speed the pulse and blanch the cheek ; And thoughts nor looked, nor yet express'd, Create a chaos in the breast. " A smile of hope from those we love, May be an angel from above ; A whispered welcome in our ears, Be as the music of the spheres. " The pressure of a gentle hand, Worth all that glitters in the land ! Oh ! trifles are not what they seem, But oft life's ruling voice I ween. " Seek then a conscience cleans'd from guilt, Through the rich blood for sinners spilt ; And seek the Holy Spirit's might, To help to walk in God's own light. " Then every sin the heart will shun, And little duties will be done ; And life, with all its trials prove A sphere for thoughtful, tender love." y 2 324 IKissallaiwousi* SONG OF THE EEDBEEAST. How wearily and drearily the long, long night hath past ! But merrily and cheerily the morning smiles at last ; And though the frost be keen, and tho' the night be long, I know that spring will come again and sing my morn- ing song. No more 'mid clustering leaves, or sweet flowers opening bright, But underneath the eaves we spend the wintry night. Instead of branches green, waving above our head, The icicles are seen hanging around our bed. When leaves began to fade, and o'er the crisp ground fell, We left the wooded glade, and haunts within the dell ; And as dark winter spread around his grey and chilly hue, To sheltering roof and shed, in haste we closer drew. I'm waiting till the spring with sun and falling shower, The bursting leaves shall bring, and all the opening flowers ; And tho" the frost be keen, and tho' the night be long, I know that spring will come again and sing my morn- ing song. Think not, my child, life's stream will always flow so bright, Or pleasure's sunny beam, will never lose its light ; iHtsifcUanemtSu 325 Think not you ne'er will sec life's scene with winter bound, Or from its brown and faded tree the leaves all drop- ping round. God changes weal to woe, and sunny things makes dim, Lest loving earth below, your heart be turned from Him ; He bids affliction lower to break your thoughtless pride, And makes you by each wintry hour draw closer to His side. Through pathways dark and strange, thro' sorrow and thro' gloom, He leads you to a realm of light beyond the silent tomb ; And by each gloomy night, He sends you kindly warning, To wait the everlasting light, and that cometh in the morning. Oh ! wait until the spring, in those unfading bowers Its changeless bloom shall bring, and never-dying- flowers ; And tho' thy pathway wend thro' ways now dark and dim, You know your Lord is at the end, and all is light with Him. Evans. 326 mf0ttnaitron& THE CUCKOO. •' Where self and pleasure are but one, That soul is morally undone ! " F. W. Faber, Without a home, without a nest, No mate to call his own, With no parental love possessed, A creature all alone ; He tells of selfish pleasures That loves abroad to roam ; Where the heart can have no treasure, Because it knows no home. This world, my child, hath many a voice That calls to idle pleasure, And bids the thoughtless heart rejoice In hours of selfish leisure ; That calls to passing pleasure, seen In outward things alone, And not in that which dwells within, Where peace is sought and won. The holy peace of spirits blest, Whose sin, and guilt forgiven, Have learned in patient hope to rest, Fast by the gate of Heaven ; And there is watching day and night In longing love for Him, Who'll open wide those portals bright, And call His chosen in. J JMisrellaneousu 327 This world can never meet the need Of souls that long for bliss ; Nor can its shallow fountains feed A course of love like this. And though they speak of flowerets strewn Across your path, ere long, Like the hoarse cuckoo heard in June, They'd be a weary song. Evans. THE PETEEL. " Are ye not much better than they ? " Far out at sea, and slowly borne To lands beneath a southern sky, A vision came of years gone by, And thoughts that haunt a heart forlorn As if my life had been a dream, And I, with aimless course, and blank, A weak weed, loosened from the bank, And idly drifting down the stream : As if there were no loving Eye To guide my feet, and watch my ways, And I, chance wandering thro' a maze, Might unregarded live and die. 328 JEfecellaneou^ Behind me, I could only mark The hopes and pleasures I had lost : Before me, like an unknown coast, The future loomed thro' vapours dark. A troubled mood, not free from sin, A murmuring at the will of God, A voice that cried against the rod, From an unhumbled heart within. But so I mused, when near the ship It chanced a lonely sea-bird flew, — Now hovering o'er the waters blue, It curved with frequent downward dip. Long time I watched its wavering flight,- Hither and thither o'er the sea It skimmed, as if each movement free Followed an impulse of delight. No other living thing did move In that wide circle's desert bound, — The bleak sea heaving all around, The dim dome arching vague above. And then I thought — " That little bird " Hath its loved haunt at close of day, "In some green island far away, " Or rock, or reef which breakers gird. ittfscellanrousL 329 " And not unguided doth it roam, — " One Eye its every wandering knows ; " And in its "heart an instinct glows, " That guides it to its distant home. " It hath no skill to sow nor reap, " Yet for its daily want He cares, " And its convenient food prepares, " In the salt furrows of the deep. " And wherefore doubt, oh ! fearful heart ! " As if thro' all thy wanderings wide, " He will not be thy faithful guide, " And act a loving Father's part ! " Set not thy will with His at strife, — * " The water of the bitterest cup " May be a fountain springing up " Hereafter to Eternal Life." I heard the mild admonishment, The echo of that Voice of Power, Which on the Mount made every flower And bird, a preacher of content. And straightway the remembrance bred Within me, hope, and holy trust, — My spirit rose out of the dust, And worshipped, and was comforted. J. D. Burns. 330 JKtecellatteousu A QUIET MIND. " My peace I give unto you." — John xiv. 27. I have a treasure which. I prize, Its like I cannot find : Its far beyond what earth can give, 'Tis this — A quiet mind. But 'tis not that I am stupified, Or senseless, dull, or blind ; 'Tis God's own peace within my heart, Which forms my quiet mind. I found this treasure at the Cross, And there, to every kind Of weary heavy-laden souls, Christ gives a quiet mind. The love of God within my breast, My heart to Him doth bind ; This is the peace of heaven and earth, This is my quiet mind. I've many a cross to take up now, And many left behind ; But present troubles move me not, Nor shake my quiet mind. And what may be to-morrow's cross I never seek to find, My Saviour says, '• Leave that to Me, And keep a quiet mind." iHfcctllaneotisu 331 And well I know the Lord hath said, To make my heart resigned, That mercy still shall follow those Who have this quiet mind. I'm waiting now to see my Lord, Who's been to me so kind ; I want to thank Him face to face, For this my quiet mind. "Beareth all things. Gently I took that which ungently came, And without scorn forgave : — Do thou the same. A wrong done to thee think a cat's eye spark, Thou wouldst not see, were not thine own heart dark, Thine own keen sense of wrong that thirsts for sin, Fear that — the spark self-kindled from within, Which blown upon, will blind thee with its glare, Or smothered, stifle thee with noisome air. Clap on the extinguisher, pull up the blinds, And soon the ventilated spirit finds Its natural daylight. If a foe have kenn'd, Or worse than foe, an alienated friend, A rib of dry rot in thy ship's stout side, Think it God's message, and in humbled pride With heart of oak replace it ; — thine the gains, Give him the rotten timber for his pains ! S. T. COLEBIDGE. 332 Jtttecellatttous. A SIMILE. Slowly, slowly up the wall, Steals the sunshine, steals the shade ; Evening damps begin to fall, Evening shadows are displayed, Round me, o'er me, everywhere All the sky is grand with clouds, And athwart the evening air Wheel the swallows home in crowds. Shafts of sunshine from the west, Paint of dusky windows red, Darker shadows, deeper red ; Underneath, and overhead. Darker, darker and more wan, In my breast the shadows fall ; Upwards steals the life of man, As the sunshine from the wall. From the wall into the sky, From the roof along the spire ; Ah ! the souls of saints that die, Are but sunbeams lifted higher. Longfellow. iBtscellaneousu 333 THE KINGDOM OF GOD. I say to thee, do thou repeat To the first man thou mayest meet In lane, highway, or open street — That he and we, and all men move Under a canopy of love, As broad as heaven's blue sky : That doubt and trouble, fear and pain, And anguish, all are shadows vain ; That death itself shall not remain ; That weary deserts we may tread, A weary labyrinth may thread, Thro' dark ways underground be led. Yet if w T e will one Guide obey, The dreariest path, the darkest way Shall issue out in heavenly day. And we on divers shores now cast, Shall meet, our perilous voyage past, All in our Father's house at last. And ere thou leave him, say thou this ; Yet one word more — they only miss The winning of that final bliss, Who will not count it true that love, Blessing, not cursing, rules above, And that in it we live and move. 334 JttfcceUaneouas* And one thing further make him know, That to believe these things are so, This firm faith never to forego. Despite of all which seems at strife With blessing, all with curses rife, That this is blessing, this is life. Trench, THE EACE. " Lord, raise up, we pray Thee, and come among us, and with great might succour us ; that whereas through our sins and wickedness, we are sore let and hindered in running the race that is set before us, Thy bountiful grace and mercy may speedily help and deliver Raise up Thy power we pray Thee, Lord, And come among us now, And succour us, the tempted ones, 'Neath our sins' weight who bow : For we are let and hindered sore In our appointed race, A close-wrapped garment folds us round, A veil is on our face. Help, help us, Lord, take speedily This clinging garb away, And wash us clean in Thy pure fount, Beneath the light of day : iMfettllaiwousJ* 335 And pour on us Thy holy oil, Thy sweet soul-healing balm ; So we may run the race right well, And win the victor's palm. Then Thou, our Judge, wilt crown our brow With an unfading wreath, And we shall give Thee glory then, Thy rainbowed throne beneath : And drink with Thee the wine of heaven The joy of all the blest, And serve Thee truly day and night In working as in rest. Thou wert the first this race to run — It was a thorny path, And many a stone of stumbling set Man's sin and Satan's wrath : But Thou didst gather up the thorns And bind them on Thy brow, And give Thy Gospel's peace to keep Our feet from stumbling low. We run the race the prize to win, let our hearts be pure, And strong, when Thou hast turned them tow rd The mansions that endure ; So shall our sin's weight more and more Be lightened every day, Though long it cling and close it fold, At length it falls away. M. G. T. 336 Jftferellaneousu CHEIST OUR EXAMPLE. Be ye therefore perfect, even as your Father which is in heaven is perfect." God from His throne above the skies This darkling orb surveys : And bids the sun in glory rise To cheer a guilty race. Alike to court, and lowly glen, Alike to friend and foe, Freely for all the sons of men, His daily bounties flow. Nor rich with mercies less divine, Immanuel's Holy Name, When Heir and Lord of Judah's line, The Great Deliverer came. No bounded love, no partial grace, The Heavenly Heralds sung, They told of joy, to every race, Of praise to every tongue. For wide as ocean ranges round, And far as winds can rove, From Salem swelled the solemn sound Of Pardon, Peace, and Love. Oh, then while winged to heaven in prayer, Our grateful accents flow, For all the gifts we freely share, And all the hopes we know ; Jflterdlaneous; 33 Be ours the joy with ready zeal To hail a Father's will, The love, a Saviour felt, to feel, The work He wrought, fulfil. So through the earth shall mercy reign, And God by mercy won, Receive His long-lost world again, The Kingdom of His Son. BOWDLER. THE UNNAMED WOMEN. The hand that might have drawn aside The veil, which from unloving sight Those shrinking forms avails to hide, With tender care has wrapt it tight. He would not have the sullied name, Once fondly spoken in a home, A mark for strangers' righteous blame, Branded through every age to come. And thus we only speak of them As those on whom His mercies meet, " She whom the Lord would not condemn/' And, " She who bathed with tears His feet," z 338 Miscellaneous:* Trusted to no evangelist, First heard where sins no more defile, Read from the Book of Life by Christ, And consecrated by His smile. From " The Three, Waking THE USE OE ELOWERS. God might have made the earth bring forth Enough for great and small ; The oak-tree, and the cedar-tree Without a flower at all. He might have made enough, — enough — For every want of ours ; For medicine, luxury, and toil, And yet have made no flowers. The ore within the mountain mine Requireth none to grow, Nor doth it need the lotus-flower To make the river flow. The clouds might give abundant rain, The nightly dews might fall ; And the herb that keepeth life in man, Might yet have drunk them all. Jftterellaneousu 339 Then wherefore, — wherefore were they made, All dyed with rainbow light ; All fashioned with supremest grace, Upspringing day and night. Springing in valleys green and low, And on the mountains high, And in the silent wilderness Where no man passeth by. Our outward life requires them not, Then wherefore had they birth ? To minister delight to man, To beautify the earth — To comfort man — to whisper hope Whene'er his faith is dim, For whoso careth for the flowers, Will much more care for Him. From "The Three Wakings." THE STRANGER. u And if a stranger sojourn with thee in your land, ye shall not vex him. But the stranger that dwelleth with you shall be unto you as one born among you, and thou shalt love him as thyself ; for ye were strangers in the land of Egypt : I am the Lord your God." The stranger's heart, oh ! wound it not, A yearning language is its lot ; In the green shadow of thy tree, The stranger finds no rest with thee. z2 340 Jfflferellaneou^ Thou think'st the vine's low-rustling leaves Glad music round thy household eaves ; To him that sound hath sorrow's tone, The stranger's heart is with his own. Thou think' st thy children's laughing play A lovely sight at fall of day ; Then are the stranger's thoughts opprest, His mother's voice comes o'er his breast. Thou think' st it sweet when friend with friend Beneath one roof in prayer may bend ; Then doth the stranger's eye grow dim, Far, far are those who prayed with him. Thy hearth, thy home, thy vintage land, The voices of thy kindred band, — Oh ! midst all these, while blest thou art, Deal gently with the stranger's heart. Mrs. Hemans. From "Christ's Triumph after Death." Here may the band that now in triumph shines, And that, before they were invested thus, In earthly bodies, carried heavenly minds, Pitch round about, in order glorious, Their sunny tents, and houses luminous, All their eternal day in songs enjoying, Joying their end, without end of their joying, While their Almighty Prince destruction is destroying. JWfecellaneous* 341 No sorrow now hangs clouding on their brow, No bloodless malady makes pale their face, No age drops on their hair his silver snow, No nakedness their bodies doth embase, No poverty themselves and theirs disgrace ; No fear of death the joy of life deflowers, No wasteful sleep their precious time devours, No loss, no grief, no change, wait on their winged hours. But now their white-robed bodies scorn the cold, And from their eyes joy looks and laughs at pain : The infant wonders how he came so old, The old man how he came so young again : Where all are rich and yet no gold they owe : And all are kings and yet no subjects know ; All full, and yet no time on food they do bestow. For things that pass are passed, ***** And in the midst of this Celestial City, Where the Eternal Temple should have rose, Lightened the Vision Beatific : End, and beginning of each thing that grows, Whose self no end nor yet beginning knows, That hath no eyes to see, nor ears to hear, Yet sees, and hears, and is all eye, all ear, That nowhere is contained, and yet is everywhere. Giles Fletcher, 342 jafettllatttousf* " With the lowly is wisdom." How much that genius boasts as hers. And fancies her's alone, On you, meek Spirits, faith confers ! The proud have further gone, Perhaps through life's deep maze, but you Alone possess the labyrinth's clue. To you the costliest spoils of thought, Wisdom, unclaimed, yields up ; To you the far-sought pearl is brought, And melted in your cup : To you her nard and myrrh she brings. Like orient gifts to infant kings. The single eye alone can see All truths around us thrown, In their eternal unity : The humble ear alone Has room to hold, and time to prize, The sweetness of life's harmonies. AUBERY DE VeRK. VANITY OF THE WORLD. " Surely every man walketh in a vain shew." Nay, 'tis not as we fancied, this magic world of ours, We thought its skies were only blue, its fields all sun and flowers, ifflf&tflaneou& 343 Its streams all summer bright and glad, its seas all smiles and calms, Its path from youth to age, one long green avenue of palms ; But clouds came up with gloom and shade, our sky was overcast ; The hot mist threw its blight around, sunshine and flowers went past ; Hopes perished, that had hung like wreaths around youth's buoyant brow ; And joys like withered autumn leaves, dropped from the shaken bough. Yet from these clouds comes forth the light — light beaming from on high ; And from these faded flowers spring up, the flowers that cannot die ! Far fairer is the land we seek : a land without a tomb : An everlasting resting-place, a sure and quiet home. Far sunnier than the hills of Time, are its Eternal hills ; Far fresher than the rills of Earth, are its Eternal rills. No blight can fall upon its flowers, no darkness fill its air ; It has a day for ever bright, for Christ its Sun is there. Sun of love and peace, arise ; Thy light upon us beam; For all this life is but a sleep, and all this world a dream. H. BONAR. 344 itt&ttIIan?ou& A STABLESS CKOWK. " And they that be wise, shall shine as the brightness of the firmament ; and they that turn many to righteousness, as the stars for ever anc£ If grief in heaven might find a place, And shame, the worshippers bow down. Who meet the Saviour face to face, 'Twould be to wear a starless erown •> Nor find in all that countless host We meet before th' Eternal Throne,, Who once like us were sinners lost, Any to say we led them home. The Son, to do His Father's will. Could lay his own bright crown aside.* The law's stern mandate to fulfil, Pour'd out his blood for us> and died f Shall we, who know His wondrous love- While here below, sit idly down ? Ah ! then, — if we reach heaven above.., 'Twill be to wear a starless crown. O may it ne^er of me be said, No soul that's saved by grace divine* Has called for blessings on my head ? . Or linked its destiny with mine. fttterellaneous* 345 THE FATAL DECISION. " Love not the world, nor the things that are in the world. If any man love the world, the love of the Father is not in him." She has chosen the world and its paltry crowd ; She has chosen the world and an endless shroud ; She hath chosen the world with its mis-named pleasures, She has chosen the world, before heaven's own treasures. She hath launched her boat on life's giddy sea, And her all is afloat for eternity ; But Bethlehem's star is not in her view, And her aim is far from the harbour true. When the storm descends from an angry sky, Ah ! where from the winds shall the vessel fly ? When stars are concealed and rudder gone, And heaven is sealed to the wandering one. The whirlpool opes for the gallant prize ; And with all her hopes to ihe deep she hies ! But who may tell of the place of woe, Where the wicked dwell, where the worldlings go. For the human heart can ne'er conceive, What joys are the part of them that believe; Nor can justly think of the cup of death, Which all must drink who despise the faith. 346 MtettUuntou& Away then, oil ! fly from the joys of earth Y Her smile is a lie, there's a sting in her mirth ; Come, leave the dreams of this transient night, And bask in the beams of an endless light. Mc Chbyne. " He respecteth not the persons of men," The charities that soothe, and heal, and bless, Are scattered at the feet of man — like flowers. The generous inclination, the just rule, Kind wishes, and good actions, and pure thoughts — No mystery is here ! Here is no boon For high — yet not for low : for proudly graced — Yet not for meek of heart. The smoke ascends To heaven as lightly from the cottage hearth As from the haughtiest palace. He whose soul Ponders this true equality, may walk The fields of earth with gratitude and hope. Wordsworth. JlWfecrilaiteousu 347 THE HOUSEHOLD DARLING. By John Prince. — (A working weaver.) I. Little Ella ! fairest, dearest, Unto me and unto mine, Earthly cherub coming nearest To my dreams of shapes divine. Her brief absence noted, pains me, Her bright presence solace brings, Her spontaneous love restrains me From a thousand selfish things. n. Little Ella moveth lightly Like a graceful fawn at play, Like a brooklet running brightly, In the genial smile of May. Like a breeze upon the meadows All besprent with early flowers ; Like a bird 'mid sylvan shadows, In the golden summer bowers. m. You should see her, when with nature She goes forth to think or play, Every limb and every feature Drinking in the joy of day. 348 J&ferellaneous* Stooping oft 'mid floral splendor, Snatching colours and perfumes ; She doth seem so fair and tender, Born of spring's unfolding blooms. rv. Sweet thought sitteth like a garland On her placid brows and eyes, — Eyes that seem a far-off land Through the intervening skies. And she seems to listen often To some voice above the spheres, Whilst her earnest features soften Into calmness kin to tears. V. Not all mirthful is her manner, Though no laugh so blithe as hers ; Grave demeanour comes upon her, When her inmost nature stirs ; When a gentle lip reproves her, All her gladsome graces flee ; But the word — -forgiveness, moves her With new joy, and sets her free. VI. Should a shade of sickness near me, Then she takes a holier grace ; Comes to strengthen and to cheer me, With her awful light of face. Jtfltsfcdlaneousu 349 Up the stair I hear her coming, Duly at the morning hour, Sweetly singing, — softly humming Like a bee about a flower. VII. The One Book wakes extatic feelings In her undeveloped mind, Holier thoughts, whose high revealings Teach her love for human kind. Music thrills her with a fervour Like the songs of Seraphim ; May bright spirits teach and train her, To partake the Lamb's pure hymn. vm God of heaven ! in Thy good seeming Spare this darling child to me, Spare me this unsullied being Till she bring me close to Thee. Holy Spirit ! bless her, mould her, Into goodness clothed with grace ; That on high I may behold her Walking with Thee face to face ! 350 Jfflferellanemisu THE REWARD OF CHRISTIAN BENEVOLENCE. Remove the stone from Thy compassion's spring And let the water for the pilgrim flow, Of the world's waste, the sons of want and woe ! Though their afflicted frame affliction wring : And hunger, thirst and nakedness, the sting Of sharp disease and bitter bonds they know ; They are the brethren, He to call them so Vouchsafes, — the brethren of thy Lord and King. A day shall come when thou before His throne Those sons of woe with lively thoughts must see Of joy, or anguish. — Then shall far be shewn The alms in secret done ; and publicly A voice proclaim, " Each act of mercy done To these My brethren, has been done to Me." Mant. THE ABBOT TURNED ANCHORITE. " Charity hopeth all things." Under A.D. 1331, in Chronicon Butley, is the following passage. " John Grene relinquishing his ahbacie by choice, was consecrated an anchorite, at the Chapel of St. Mary, in the old Monastery near the sea." A most impressive change it must, Methinks to such an one have been, To abdicate the abbot's trust, And seek this solitary scene. JWfettllanwus^ 351 It might not then seem so forlorn As now this crumbling wreck appears ; But more within the common bourne Of human hopes and human fears. Yet to resign the ampler sway Of yon fair Abbey's outstretched lands, For this small cell, this silent bay, And barren beach of drifted sands. Such a transition must suggest Whether thou wert or not sincere, To thought and feeling many a test, At once protracted severe. It might be spleen, it might be pride, Or monkish bigotry's stern voice Which bade thee on this step decide ; If so, who must not mourn thy choice ! That choice might have a nobler source, And from far holier motives spring, Which bearing blessings in their course, Might prove a pleasing offering. Thou might' st have proved how little all Religion's outward pomp and power The soul from earth can disenthral, And fit it for its parting hour. And having thus been taught to trace Snares in the path thy feet have trod, Thou sought'st this solitary place Here to prepare to meet thy God. 352 MtettUmttmi. I love to think it thus might be, For e'en the very thought appears, To shed upon this spot and thee A charm my inmost soul reveres. For tho' the act which gave it birth, Viewed in itself I may not prize, My spirit feels and owns the worth Of self-devoting sacrifice. I love to trace the latent good, Which dwells in widely differing creeds, Which still in thought's divinest mood, With every purer votary pleads. I love to think that while thine own Held much by mine rejected; still, The tried, the precious Corner Stone, Of each was brought from Calvary's hill. Thine may a prouder dome have built, A humbler tabernacle mine ; To both the blood which there was spilt, Alone could sanctify the shrine. 'Tis soothing thus to feel and think, Musing upon this spot, and thee ; And fancy on the grave's dread brink, That such thy feelings' thoughts might be. That here through many a lonely day, And many a solitary night, Thy life and converse might display The truly Christian Anchorite. JftidttUanfou& 353 Thy matins — many a tuneful strain, From gladsome nature's feather'd throng The hoarser music of the main, Thy still more solemn vesper-song. Thus fancy paints thy parting years, Their close a calm and hopeful scene, And thee bewailed by peasant's tears, A follower of the Nazarene. B. Barton. COWPER'S GRAVE. It is a place where poets crown'd May feel the heart's decaying, — It is a place where happy saints May weep amid their praying ; — Yet let the grief and humbleness, As low as silence languish ; Earth surely now may give her calm To whom she gives her anguish. poets ! from a maniac's tongue Was poured the deathless singing ! O Christians ! at your cross of hope A hopeless hand was clinging ! A A 354 iflisfrellaneousJ. men ! this man in brotherhood, Your weary paths beguiling, Groaned inly while he taught you peace, And died while you were smiling ! And now what time ye all may read Through dimming tears his story — How discord on the music fell, And darkness on the glory. And how when one by one, sweet sounds And wandering lights departed, He wore no less a loving face, Because so broken-hearted. He shall be strong to sanctify The poet's high vocation, And bow the meekest Christian down In meeker adoration. Nor ever shall he be in praise By wise or good forsaken, Named softly as the household name Of one whom God hath taken. With sadness that is calm, not gloom, I learn to think upon him, With meekness that is gratefulness, On God whose heaven hath won him ; Who suffered once the madness cloud Towards His love, to blind him, But gently led the blind along, Where breeze and bird could find him. ifttsirdlaneousu 355 The very world by God's constraint, From falsehoods chill removing, Its women and its men became Beside Him true and loving ! And timid hares were drawn from woods To share his home caresses, TTplooking in his human eyes, With sylvan tendernesses. But while in darkness he remained Unconscious of the guiding, And things provided came, without The sweet sense of providing. He testified this solemn truth, Though frenzy-desolated, — Nor man nor nature satisfy, Whom only God created ! Like a sick child that knoweth not his mother while she blesses, And drops upon his burning brow the coolness of her kisses ; That turns his fevered eyes around — " My mother ! where's my mother ?" As if such tender words and looks could come from any other ! The fever gone, with leaps of heart, he sees her bending o'er him ; Her face all pale from watchful love, the unweary love she bore him ! A A 2 356 JWterellaneousu Thus woke the poet from the dream his life's long fever gave him, Beneath those deep pathetic eyes, which closed in death to save him ! Thus ? oh, not thus ! no type of earth could image that awaking, Wherein he scarcely heard the chant of seraphs round him breaking, Or felt the new immortal throb of soul from body parted ; But felt those eyes alone > and knew "My Saviour! not deserted ! " Deserted ! who hath dreamt that when the cross in darkness rested, Upon the victim's hidden face no love was manifested ! What frantic hands outstretched have e'er the atoning drops averted, What tears have washed them from the soul, that one should be deserted ? Deserted ! God could separate from His own essence rather ; And Adam's sins have swept between the righteous Son and Father ; Yea, once, Immanuel's orphaned cry, His universe hath shaken — It went up single, echoless, " My God, I am for- saken ! " fftterellaneousu 357 It went up from the Holy's Lips amid His lost creation, That of the lost, no son should use those words of desolation ; That earth's worst phrenzies, marring hope, should mar not hope's fruition, And I, on Cowper's grave, should see his rapture in a vision ! E. B. Browning. THE CBOWN. Thou shalt be crowned, mother blest, Our hearts behold thee crown'd e'en now ; The crown of motherhood, earth's best, O'ershadowing thy maiden brow. Thou shalt be crown'd, more fragrant bays Than ever poets brows entwine, For thine immortal hymn of praise, First singer of the church, are thine. Thou shalt be crowned. All earth and heaven Thy coronation pomp shall see ; The Hand by which Thy crown is given Shall be no stranger's hand to thee. Thou shalt be crown'd, but not a queen ; A better triumph ends thy strife ; Heaven's bridal raiment, white and clean, The victor's crown of fadeless life. 358 JWtsscellatteous* Thou shalt be crown'd, but not alone, No lonely pomp shall weigh thee down ; Crown'd with the myriads round His throne, And casting at His feet thy crown. From " The Three Wakings." " And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes." I Kiss thy brow, I smooth thy hair Dearest, thy soul is bowed in grief ; I can but say I love thee well, I cannot bring the least relief. Thy tears fall fast upon thy hands, Thy heart is full, thou canst not speak ; I can but say I love thee well, My love is strong, but I am weak. Yes I am weak, but love is strong, The strongest love is God's above, It must be stronger far than mine, And He is strong as is his love. Hast thou not read He wipes away All tears from eyes before His throne, From eyes of those who wait, " white robed ," Trusting their bliss to Him alone ? Jflt£!rdIaneou& 359 Dearest, when His all-loving Hand Shall touch thy brow and make it bright, Healing thy grief, the fount of tears Strengthening thine eyes to see His light. Wilt thou then wish thou hadst not shed These tears that now will have their way, When they will be thy plea, to claim That touch to wipe them all away ? O better far, we know it is, To be thus healed, than ne'er to weep ; Better to feel that tender Hand, Than e'en glad watch for aye to keep. Better to be the child that holds His father's garments in his fear, Than serve that lord, a trusty knight, Singing a war note loud and clear. Then raise thy head, thy tearful eyes, And look into these eyes of mine, Thou findest them all full of love, But greater is the Love Divine. Translated by M. G. T. from the Gei man. 360 ifflfecellaneousr* "ABSOLVO TE." " Thy faith hath saved thee ; go in peace." One Priest alone can pardon me, Or bid me " Go in peace " ; Can breathe that word, " Absolvo Te," And make these heart-throbs cease : My soul has heard His priestly voice ; It said, " I bore thy sins — Eejoice ! " He showed the spear-mark in His side, The nail-print on His palm ; Said, " Look on Me, the Crucified ; Why tremble thus ? Be calm ! All power is Mine — I set thee free— Be not afraid— < Absolvo Te.' " In chains of sin once tied and bound, I walk in life and light ; Each spot I tread is hallowed ground, Whilst Him I keep in sight, Who died a victim on the tree, That He might say, " Absolvo Te." By Him my soul is purified, Once leprous and defiled, Cleansed by the water from His side, God sees me as a child : No priest can heal or cleanse but He ; No other say, " Absolvo Te." Jtttsrdlaneciusu 36i He robed me in a priestly dress, That I might incense bring, Of prayer and praise and righteousness, To heaven's Eternal King : And when He gave this robe to me, He smiled and said, " Absolvo Te." In heaven He stands before the throne, The great High Priest above, " Melchisedec," — that name alone Can sin's dark stain remove : To Him I look on bended knee, And hear that sweet " Absolvo Te." A girded Levite here below, I willing service bring, And fain would tell to all I know Of Christ, the Priestly King : Would win all hearts from sin to flee, And hear Him say, " Absolvo Te." A little while and He shall come Forth from the inner shrine, To call His pardoned brethren home ; bliss supreme, Divine ! When every blood-bought child shall see The Priest who said, " Absolvo Te."' 362 iffltertflaneousf* " Out of the eater came forth meat," I never heard Reported slander, but there was some word, Some stray expression, like a well- aimed dart, Which found a rightful home within my heart. If I deserved it not from him who spoke, I did from some one else ; and it awoke Soft thoughts and kind regrets, such as belong In compensation unto those we wrong. If now unmerited, it was not so In younger days, or some few years ago ; And it is well to have our sinful past Upon our notice somewhat roughly cast In bitter admonitions : Providence By these revenges would prolong the sense Of self-abasement, and the cleansing grief Which in young hearts is wont to be too brief. It is true health which Christian spirits win From out the abiding shame of early sin. F. W. Faber. MUM ^wfh \Mj GO ifaig mi JPrtteg. I GO TO LIFE. GO to life and not to death, From darkness to light's native sky ; I go from sickness and from pain, To health and immortality. Let our farewell then be tearless, Since I bid farewell to tears ; Write this day of my departure, Festive in your coming years. I go from poverty to wealth, From rags to raiment angel fair ; From the pale leanness of this flesh, To beauty such as saints shall wear. I go from chains to liberty, These fetters will be broken soon ; Forth over Eden's fragrant fields, I walk beneath a glorious noon. For toil there comes the crowned rest, Instead of burdens, — eagle's wings ; And I, even I, this life-long thirst Shall quench at Everlasting Springs. God lives ! — Who says that I must die ? I cannot while Jehovah liveth ! Christ lives ! I cannot die, but live, He, life to me for ever giveth. ' JWetting anti parting 365 Let our farewell then be tearless, Since / bid farewell to tears ; Write the day of my departure, Festive in your coming years. J. B. MONSELL. THE MEETING OF FKIENDS. Sweet when friends their joys impart ; Thoughts to thoughts responsive start ; Soul to soul and heart to heart, Thus they meet. Yet when sev'ring fate denies, Mutual looks and answering eyes, They who own a Christian's ties, Still may meet. When the house of prayer they seek, When the w^ords of promise speak, Comfort to the faint and weak, Then they meet. When the heart's affections move, Borne on wings of joy and love, To their resting-place above, Then thev meet, 366 Mtttin$ antr Partmg* When the word of life is read, When their hearts are comforted, And with heav'nly manna fed, Then they meet. When their pilgrim path is past, Sin and death behind them cast, In their Father's house at last, There they meet. J. A. Elliot. THE MEETING PLACE. Where the faded flower shall freshen, Freshen never more to fade ; Where the shaded sky shall brighten, Brighten never more to shade : Where the sun-blaze never scorches ; Where the starbeams cease to chill ; Where no tempest stirs the echoes Of the wood or wave or hill : Where the moon shall wake in gladness, And the noon the joy prolong, Where the daylight dies in fragrance, 'Mid the burst of holy song : Brother, we shall meet and rest 'Mid the holy and the blest. #leetmg anti parting* 36? Where no shadow shall bewilder ; Where life's vain parade is o'er, Where the sleep of sin is broken, And the dreamer dreams no more ; Where the bond is never severed ; Partings, claspings, sob and moan, Midnight waking, twilight weeping, Heavy noontide — all are done. Where the child has found its mother, And the mother finds her child, Where dear families are gathered, That were scattered on the wild. Brother, we shall meet and rest 'Mid the holy and the blest. Where the hidden wound is healed, Where the blighted life reblooms, Where the smitten heart the freshness Of its buoyant youth resumes ; Where the love that here we lavish On the withering leaves of time, Shall have fadeless flowers to fix on, In an ever spring-bright clime : Where we find the joy of loving As we never loved before, Loving on, unchilled, unhindered, Loving once and evermore. Brother, we shall meet and rest 'Mid the holy and the blest. 368 JHeetmg antr ^artutff* Where a blasted world shall brighten Underneath a bluer sphere, And a softer, gentler sunshine Shed its healing splendour here ; Where earth's barren vales shall blossom, Putting on their robe of green, And a purer fairer Eden, Be where only wastes have been ; Where a King in kingly glory, Such as earth has never known, Shall assume the righteous sceptre, Claim and wear the holy crown, Brother, we shall meet and rest 'Mid the holy and the blest. H. Bonak, MY GOD! I KNOW THAT I MUST DIE. " Mein Gott ! ich weiss wohl dass ich sterbe." " As the waters fail from the sea, and the flood decayeth and drieth up : So man lieth down and riseth not." My God ! I know that I must die, My mortal life is passing hence ; On earth I neither hope nor try To find a lasting residence ; Then teach me by thy heavenly grace, With joy and peace my death to face, iHttfihg antr i&rtmgr* 369 My God ! I know not when I die, What is the moment or the hour, How soon the clay may broken lie, How quickly pass away the flower ; Then may Thy child prepared be Through time to meet Eternity. My God ! I know not how I die, For death has many ways to come, In dark mysterious agony, Or gently as in sleep to some ; Just as Thou wilt ! if but I be For ever blessed, Lord, with Thee. My God ! I know not where I die, Where is my grave, beneath what strand, Yet from its gloom I do rely To be delivered by Thy hand ; Content I take what spot is mine, Since all the earth, my Lord, is Thine. My gracious God ! when I must die, Oh, bear my happy soul above, With Christ my Lord, eternally To share Thy glory and Thy love ! Then comes it right and well to me, When, where, and how my death shall be. B. SCHMOLK. (Hymns from the Land of Luther.) 370 ileetmg: anU parting* QUIS SEPARABIT. 'Tis tlius they press the hand and part, Thus have they bid farewell again ; Yet still they commune heart with heart, Linked by a never-broken chain. Still one in life and one in death, One in their hope of rest above ; One in their joy, their trust, their faith, — One in each other's faithful love. Yet must they part, and parting w r eep, What else has earth for them in store ? These farewell pangs how sharp, how deep, These farewell words how sad and sore. Yet shall they meet again in peace, To sing the song of festal joy, Where none shall bid their gladness cease, And none their fellowship destroy. Where none shall beckon them away, Nor bid their festival be done ; Their meeting time the eternal day, Their meeting place the eternal throne. There hand in hand firm linked at last, And heart to heart enfolded all ; They'll smile upon the troubled past, And wonder why they wept at all. i&eetmg; antr parting. 371 Then let them press the hand and part The dearly loved, the fondly loving ; Still one in spirit and in heart, The undivided, unremoving. H. BONAR. PARTING. " What mean ye to weep and to break my heart " Was macht ihr, dass ihr weinet. What mean ye by this weeping, To break my bleeding heart ? As if the love that binds us Could alter or depart ! Our sweet and holy union Knows neither time nor place, The love that God has planted Is lasting as His grace. Ye clasp these hands at parting As if no hope would be, While still we stand for ever In blissful unity. bb2 372 meeting anti Parting* Ye gaze as on a vision Ye never could recall, While still each thought is with you. And Jesus with us all. Ye say, — we here, thou yonder, Thou goest, and we stay, And yet Christ's mystic body Is one eternally. Ye speak of different journies, A long and sad adieu, While still one way I travel, And have one way with you. Why should ye now be weeping These agonizing tears, Behold our gracious Leader, And cast away your fears. We tread one path to glory, Are guided by one hand, And led in faith and patience Unto one fatherland. Then let the hour of parting No bitter grief recall, But be an hour of union, More blessed with our Lord. With Him to guide and save us, No changes that await, No earthly separations, Can leave us desolate. Spitta. (Hymns from the Land of Luther.) ileetmg: antr JJartmg. 373 THE LONG GOODNIGHT. u Having a desire to part, and to be with Christ, which 15 far better." I journey forth rejoicing From this dark vale of tears, To heavenly joy and freedom From earthly bonds and fears : Where Christ our Lord shall gather All His redeemed again, His kingdom to inherit, — Goodnight till then ! Go to thy quiet resting Poor tenement of clay ! From all thy pain and weakness I gladly haste away: But still in faith confiding To find thee yet again, All glorious and immortal, — Goodnight till then ! Why thus so sadly weeping Belov'd ones of my heart ? The Lord is good and gracious, Though now He bids us part Oft have we met in gladness, And we shall meet again, All sorrow left behind us, — Goodnight till then ! 374 Mtttin^ antt parting* I go to see His glory Whom we have loved below ; I go the blessed angels The holy saints to know : Our lovely ones departed, I go to find again, And wait for you to join us,— Goodnight till then ! I hear the Saviour calling, The joyful hour has come, The angel-guards are ready To guide me to our home : Where Christ our Lord shall gather All His redeemed again, His kingdom to inherit, — Goodnight till then ! (Hymns from the Land of Luther,) THE DAY OF DEATH!! Thou inevitable day, When a voice to me shall say — " Thou must rise and come away ; iHrettntj antr parting* 375 All thine other journies past, Gird thee and make ready fast For thy longest and thy last." Day deep-hidden from our sight In impenetrable night, Who may guess of thee aright. Art Thou distant, art Thou near ? Wilt Thou seem more dark or clear ? Day with more of hope or fear ? Wilt Thou come, not seen before Thou art standing at the door, Saying light and life are o'er ? Or with such a gradual pace, As shall leave me largest space To regard Thee face to face ? Shall I lay my drooping head On some lov'd lap, round my bed Prayers be made, and tears be shed ? Or, at distance from my own, Name and kin alike unknown, Make my solitary moan ? Will there yet be things to leave, Hearts to which this heart must cleave From which parting it must grieve ? 376 MttthxQ mxH parting Or shall life's best ties be o'er, And all loved ones gone before To that other happier shore ? Shall I gently fall on sleep, Death like slumber o'er me creep, Like a slumber sweet and deep ? Or the soul long strive in vain To get free with toil and pain, From its half divided chain ? Little skills it where or how, If thou comest then or now, With a smooth or angry brow ? Come when or how, my latest sigh, Only Jesus stand Thou by, When that last sleep shall seal my eye. Trench. "Lord, if thou hadst been here, my brother had not died. We sadly watched the close of all Life balanced on a breath ; We saw upon his features fall The awful shade of death. ffltttins antf parting;. 377 All dark and desolate we were, And murmuring nature cried, " surely, Lord, hadst Thou been here, Our brother had not died ! " But when its glance the memory cast On all that grace had done, — And thought of lifelong warfare passed, And endless victory won, — Then Faith, prevailing, wiped the tear, And looking upward, cried, " Lord, Thou surely hast been here, — Our brother has not died ! " J. D. Burns. TO A ERIEKD DEPARTED. The memory of thy truth to me My heart will ne'er resign, Until, beloved ! mine shall be As cold a bed as thine. High o'er my path of life it will Hang ever as a star, To cheer my steps toward the hill Where souls immortal are. The lesson of thy gentle life Thy trials meekly borne, Will keep me hopeful in the strife, When fainting and outworn ; 378 Mtttin# antr parting. Then, — for a darker hour remains — The memory of the faith That triumphed over mortals pains, And calmly fronted death. I once had hoped, that, side by side, Our journey we might go, And with a perfect love divide, Our gladness and our woe ; But thou hast reached thy Father's home, And happier thou art there Than I, left wearily to roam Through days of grief and care. Though all is changed since thou art gone, I would not wish thee here, For rather would I weep alone Than see thee shed a tear ; The thought of thy great happiness Is now a part of mine ; Nor would I wish my sorrow less To see that sorrow thine. J. D. Burns. " I am the resurrection and the life, he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shaU he live." We bless Thee for the quiet sleep Thy servant taketh How, We bless Thee for his blessedness, and for his crowned brow; ittttttng anti parting* 379 For every weary step he took in patient following Thee, And for the good fight fought so well, and closed right valiantly. " Earth to earth, and dust to dust," The solemn priest hath said, So we lay the turf upon thy breast, And we seal thy narrow bed. And thy spirit brother soars away Among the faithful blest ; Where the wicked cease from troubling, And the weary are at rest. Mjlman. A KEQUIE^. Thou art free from pain, — and sorrow Like a cloud from thee hath passed ; And the day that knows no morrow Hath arisen on thee at last. The fair seal of life for ever Glitters clear upon thy brow ; And the sound of the dark river Hath no terror to thee now. Sore we wept when we were taking Our long farewell look at thee ; But around thee light was breaking, Which no eye but thine might see ; 380 JtfUetmg una $arttng« On thine ear a voice was falling, Which to our ear might not come, 'Twas the voice of Jesus calling His beloved to her home ! In the snow-white linen vested, Thou art sitting at the feast, And thy head is sweetly rested On the Saviour's loving breast. Thou hast heard the saints all singing, Thou hast also waved the palm, While the golden harps were ringing In the pauses of the psalm. Thou hast walked the pathways golden, Where the faithful walk in white, — With undazzled eyes beholden The fair city's jaspar light. Thou art safe there from all evil, — Where no hurtful thing may be ; O'er the world, the flesh, the devil, Thou hast gained a victory ! Wherefore we do not bewail thee, But will press the faster on, Till we meet thee, till we hail thee, In the land where thou art gone : Where the crystal river floweth, For the comfort of the blest, And the tree of healing throweth Its broad shadow o'er their rest. J. D. Burns. " Arise ye and depart, for this is not your rest, because it is polluted." ®Bi+ OUR FATHER WHICH ART IN HEAVEN. 2R MET a fair young child, whose golden hair $K Around her sunny face in clusters hung ; sfi^o Wf wwmm " They died, for Adam sinned ; They live, for Christ hath died." «C< ^ K^ Kdfe %%M$h & THE LITTLE SLEEPEE. iO mother's eye beside thee wakes to-night, No taper burns beside thy lonely bed, ^ Darkling thou liest, hidden out of sight, And none are near thee but the silent dead. How cheerly glows this hearth, yet glows in vain, For we uncheered beside it sit alone, And listen to the wild and beating rain, In angry gusts, against our casement blown. And though we nothing speak, yet well I know That both our hearts are there, where thou dost keep Within thy narrow chamber far below, For the first time unwatched, thy lonely sleep. Ah ! no, not thou ! — and we our faith deny, This thought allowing: thou, removed from harms, In Abraham's bosom dost securely lie, Oh, not in Abraham's, — in a Saviour's arms. In that dear Lord's who in thy worst distress, Thy bitterest anguish, gave thee, dearest child, Still to abide in perfect gentleness, And like an angel to be meek and mild. Sweet corn of wheat ! committed to the ground, To die and live, and bear more precious ear, While in the heart of earth thy Saviour found His place of rest, for thee we will not fear. 6atI)ereiJ jflotoersf* 409 Sleep softly, till that blessed rain and dew, Down lighting upon earth, such change shall bring, That all its fields of death shall laugh anew — Yea, with a living harvest, laugh and sing. Trench. TO MY GATHEEED LILY. " My Beloved is gone down unto His garden to gather lilies.' It died, for Adam sinned : It lived, for Jesus died. My lovely little lily, thou wert gathered very soon, In the fresh and dewy morning, not in the glare of noon ; The Saviour sent His angels to bear thee hence my own, And they'll plant thee in that garden where decay is never known. How peacefully, how sweetly, ebbed thy little life away^ Oh, blest for ever be the God who heard thy mother pray! She did not wish to keep thee in this world of sin and strife, But she pray'd that thou without a pang might'st yield thy infant life. 410 6atf)mti jflotoersu She watch'd thee, how she watch/d thee thro' that anxious night and day, And only turn'd her eyes from thee, to look to Heaven and pray ! " Deal gently with my darling ! " was still her fervent cry — And, " trust Me with thy little one," seemed still the Lord's reply. My Lily ! oh my Lily ! I saw thee hour by hour, Still drooping nearer to the earth, my pale, and precious flower ! And as I marked the glazing eye, and felt the cheek grow cold — The mingled thoughts that fill'd my heart, they never can be told ! 'Twas in thy mother's arms my own resigned its breath, And she will thank her God for that till she too sinks in death. Oh ! tenderly indeed, my love, the Saviour dealt with us, When He in pitying love disarmed the King of Terrors thus. One long-drawn sigh thy mother heard from thy un- conscious breast, And then she saw thy eyelids close, and knew thou wert at rest ; She pressed her lips upon thy cheek — how icy cold it felt! And turning from thy chamber then, she went apart and knelt. (gatbmtr tfloh)tx$. 411 And often, often ere it came, that last sad solemn day, Beside thy cradle-coffin she would sit, and gaze, and pray; And never, never from her heart, can thy sweet image fade, So pure, so white, so still, so cold, as if of marble made. And when at length the day was come — the solemn parting day, That saw thee from thy earthly home, my loved one borne away ; Still, still my God was with thee ! and I was not seen to weep, When they laid thee in the quiet tomb, where thy father's kindred sleep. And years have passed away since then, and many a joy and care Have filled by turns thy mother's heart, in which thou hadst no share ; But still within that heart she keeps one sacred spot for thee, And thine, my Lily, thine alone, that spot shall ever be! And often when I kneel in prayer I thank my Saviour yet, For all His tender love to thee, which I can ne'er for- get ; And when I pray for those I love still left on earth with me, I ask my God to deal with them as gently as with thee. 412 (gatftereU jflotoers;* PAUL GEBHARD ON THE DEATH OF HIS SOBT. " For, if we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so them also which sleep in Jesus will God bring with Him." Yes, thou art mine, still mine, my son, Whoe'er may think thee lost for ever ; But now thou art not mine alone, — Since He, of life the Lord and Giver, Who hath a stronger right than mine Hath called thee hence, and I resign To Him mine own, my darling boy, The fulness of my earthly joy. n. Ah, were the choice but given to me, No earthly good, no earthly pleasure, But willingly would I for thee Give up, my heart's most cherished treasure. " Yes," I would say, " still with me stay, " Be thou my dwelling's light alway : " And while love warms this heart of mine, " That love, my darling, will be thine." III. So speaks my heart and means it well, But God the Highest, means it better ; My love is more than tongue can tell, But in His heart is love still greater. (gatfrmti jflotoers* 413 I am a father, — that alone, — He, of all fathers, Head and Crown, — Fountain of Being, whence have sprung All loves that link, both old and young. IV. I long full sorely for my son : God but awhile the gift was lending ; And now He wills that near His throne He shall abide in bliss unending. " Alas, my light is quenched/' i" say ; He saith, " Beloved ! come away, " For evermore with me to dwell, " And taste of joys unspeakable." v. 0, gracious word, — sweet desire, — Holy, beyond our dim foreseeing ; In God's abode no ill can be, No sorrow of this mortal being. There come no sickness, want, or care, Sin casts not once its shadows there, And all God loves and watches o'er, Are safe from evil evermore. vi. We parents are full oft oppress'd With cares about a child's upbringing, We work and plan, and take no rest, — To one bright hope for ever clinging ; 414 <§ati)mtJ fflatotrg. To see them thro' our pains and care, Settled in life with prospects fair ; Yet seldom things fall out as we In our fond dreams had hoped to see. VII. How many a youth that promised well, By the world's breath is blighted wholly, And, yielding to the Tempter's spell, Soon turns aside to paths of folly. And o'er it darkly gathers then The frown of God, the scorn of men, — The father weeping tears of shame For the lost child who blots his name. VIII. Such evil chance can ne'er be his, Safe in the dwelling of the Father ; He walks in that fair Paradise Where Christ His happy saints doth gather. There his is pleasure unexprest, From every heartache he hath rest ; He sees the shining angel-band, Who, here unseen, around us stand. IX. He hears the song the angels sing, And with the strain his voice is blending ; He drinks of wisdom from the spring, He speaks of things all thoughts transcending (gatfomtr jflotoersi* 415 Things none of us can see or know While in this region dim and low, Which, strive how hard soe'er, the mind With all its searching cannot find. X. Oh, if afar I could but stand, And for a moment catch but faintly Thy voice, my son, amid the band Of worshippers white-robed and saintly : Thy voice the holy God adore, Who makes thee holy evermore ; Methinks it would my heart so thrill, That tears of joy mine eyes would fill. XI. I could but say, " There blest abide, " And I will cease this weak repining ;" My son — oh wert thou by my side ! Nay, hush my heart ! and come, thou shining Swift chariot of the prophet, come And bear me upwards to the home Where he and all the blessed dwell, And speak of things too high to tell. XII. So let it be — God's will is best — I bow my head in meek submission ; Thou livest and art truly blest In glory's clear and open vision. 416 (JMfoeretr jflotoers. In the glad sunshine of this smile Abide for ever. I the while Will, with our brethren, onwards fare, And, in God's time, rejoin thee there. Translated by J. D. Burns. " Only a year." One year ago — a ringing voice, A dear blue eye, And clustering curls of sunny hair Too fair to die. Only a year — no voice, no smile, No glance of eye, No clustering curls of golden hair, Fair but to die. One year ago — what loves, what schemes, Far into life ! What joyous hopes, what high resolves, What generous strife. The silent picture on the wall, The burial stone, — Of all the beauty, life and joy Remain alone ! #atf)atti jflotoers;* 417 One year— one year — one little year, And so much gone ; And yet the even flow of life Moves calmly on. The grave grows green, the flowers bloom fair Above the head : No sorrowing tint of leaf or spray Says he is dead. No pause or hush of merry birds That sing above, Tell us how coldly sleeps below The form we love. Where hast thou been this year, beloved ? What hast thou seen ? What visions fair, what glorious life Where thou hast been ? The veil ! the veil so thin, so strong Twixt us and thee ; The mystic veil when shall it fall That we may see. Not dead, not sleeping, not even gone, But present still, And waiting for the coming hour Of God's sweet will. Lord of the living and the dead, Our Saviour dear, We lay in silence at Thy feet This sad, sad year. H. B. Stowe. 418 (iatfterttr jftotoersu "IT IS WELL WITH THE CHILD." " The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away : blessed be the name of the Lord." I have a son, a darling son, Lis age I cannot tell, For they reckon not by years and months where he is gone to dwell : To us, for fourteen anxious months his infant smiles were given, And then he bade farewell to Earth, and went to live in Heaven. I cannot tell what form is his, what looks he weareth now, Nor guess how bright a glory crowns his shining seraph brow, The thoughts that fill his sinless soul, the bliss which he doth feel, Are numbered with the secret things which God will not reveal. But I know (for God hath told me this) that he is now at rest, Where other blessed infants be, on their Saviour's loving breast ; I know his spirit feels no more this weary load of flesh, But his sleep is bless'd with endless dreams of joy for ever fresh. I know that we shall meet our babe (his mother dear and I), Where God for aye shall wipe away all tears from every eye ; #atftereti jftotoersu 419 Whate'er befalls his brethren twain, his life can never cease, Their lot may here be grief and fear, but his is certain peace : It may be that the tempter's wiles their souls from bliss may sever, But, if our own poor faith fail not, he must be ours for ever. When we think of what our darling is, and what we still must be, When we muse of that world's perfect bliss, and this world's misery ; When we groan beneath this load of sin, and feel this grief and pain, Oh ! we'd rather lose the treasures left than have him back again. Moultrie. LONDON: WERTHEIM, MACINTOSH, and HUNT, 24, Patebnostee Row, And 23, Holles Street, Cavendish Square. * / j '. ; . '. i '.'I'