FROM THE LIBRARY OF REV. LOUIS FITZGERALD BENSON, D. D. BEQUEATHED BY HIM TO THE LIBRARY OF Wm WUam MR wms&m ** EB 21 1933 PSALMS OF LIFE. SARAH DOUDNEY. With a Preface BY THE Rev. R. H. BAYNES, M.A., VICAR OF ST. MICHAEL AND ALL ANGELS, COVENTRY. " Teaching and admonishing one another in Psalms, and Hymns, and Spiritual Songs." * LONDON : HOULSTON AND SONS, 65, PATERNOSTER ROW. 1871. LONDON : PRINTED BY J. AND W. RIDER, BARTHOLOMEW CLOSE. PREFACE. I HAVE been asked by my friend, the Author of these " Psalms of Life," to write a preface for her book. I do not think that it needs any preface at all, for it thoroughly explains itself, and will, I believe, find a warm welcome in many a home, and a true response in many a heart. The Hymns are exactly what she has described them, " Psalms of Life." They have been written amid the work and war- fare of daily life, and they are full of iv Preface. thoughts and truths which, by God's good blessing, may help us to do earnestly the one, and wage manfully the other. The highest aspiration of the writer will, I know, be attained, if any words of hers shall minister comfort to the sorrowing, hope to the downcast, and strength to the weary. It is in this blessed ministry for good that the real power and value of Hymns seem to me to consist. They form both the poetic Liturgy of the Church, and the precious heritage of each of her separate members. As I once ventured to say elsewhere, — in the great congregation of Christ's faithful people, amid the far waste of some colonial land, on shipboard, when the eye and ear can discern nothing save God's stars above, and God's great sea around, — in the lone- Preface. v liness of the darkened chamber of sickness, and even up to the margin of the cold river of death, next to the words of Holy Scrip- ture and the deep utterances of the Book of Common Prayer, the Hymns of the Church are most cherished and most dear, lifting up the soul by the very melody of well- remembered words, and soothing it with the sweetness of the blessed truths those words enshrine. It is no light praise of the " Psalms " that follow, to say that some of them have already been used in the worship of the Church, while others have solaced and cheered some patient sufferers who are not with us now, for their warfare is accom- plished, and in the rest of Paradise they behold their Lord. vi Preface. It only remains to add that most of the " Psalms of Life " have already appeared in periodicals of the day, and that the writer's warm thanks are tendered to those publishers who have so kindly given their permission to reprint her Hymns * R. H. Baynes, M.A. Feast of St. Michael and all Angels, mdccclxxi. * Amongst these, special mention must be made of the Religious Tract Society, Messrs. Cassell and Co., the pro- prietors of the Churchman's Shilling Magazine, and the publishers of " Songs of Gladness." CONTENTS. PAGE Christ's Invitation 9 Thinking of Jesus n A Place called Gethsemane .... 14 The Knight's Tomb 17 "One of the Songs of Sion" .... 19 The Communion of Saints 22 Organ Notes 25 The Crown of Patience 27 The Children's Angels 30 A Farewell Communion 34 Closer than a Brother 37 The Spirit of God 40 A Pilgrim's Prayer 42 Evensong 45 Light above the City 48 The Deserted House 51 Last Words 55 God shall wipe away all Tears . . . -57 Spring Thoughts 60 Trial . . . 62 Truly my Hope is even in Thee .... 65 Deliver us from Evil 68 In Time of Sickness 70 Vlll Contents. Christmas Chimes 72 St. Michael and All Angels .... 74 The Christian's "Good Night". ... 76 Take up thy Cross 78 A Morn of Joy 80 The Lesson of the Water-mill .... 82 The Hills 85 Via Dolorosa 87 Good Friday Eye 89 The Hardest Time of All 91 An Autumn Message 93 The Father's Guidance 96 Storm and Calm 98 The Foolish Virgins 100 The Baptism of Suffering 102 Confirmation Hymn 103 Sunday Morning Hymn 104 Sunday Evening Hymn 106 Alleluia 108 Heart of Jesus, pierced for me. . . .110 For all Thy care we bless Thee . . .112 He hath gone into His Garden . . . 115 In Thy Holy Garden Ground . . . .117 O Comforter Divine 119 Lay down thy Burden for a Little Space . 121 Shine through the Mists of Earth To-day . 123 Praise to the Father, Praise .... 125 Lord of the Golden Harvest . . .127 PSALMS OF LIFE. CHRIST'S INVITATION. " Incline your ear, and come unto Me : hear, and your soul shall live ; and I will make an everlasting covenant with you, even the sure mercies of David." SOME unto Me, and rest, \| Thou weary heart, distrest With wasting toil, and strivings vain and endless ; Mourning from day to day For idols passed away ; — Come unto Me ; I will not leave thee friendless. I watched thy cisterns fail, I saw thee spent and pale, With parched lips, and heart with anguish bursting ; Then, from the desert sod, Thy cry went up to God ; — Come unto Me; I will not leave thee thirsting. I watched thee strive to feed On husks that mocked thy need ; I saw thee faint with weariness and fasting ; B io Psalms of Life. No hand thy want supplied, Thy brethren turned aside ; — Come unto Me ; My bread is everlasting. I watched thy taper gleam With dim, uncertain beam Through the long hours of darkness fast declining ; I saw its flame at last Quenched by the chill night-blast ; — Come unto Me ; My light is always shining. I watched thee stretch thy hands Across thy barren lands To harvest-fields where other hands were reaping ; No golden glories crowned Thy dry and stony ground ; — Come unto Me ; I will not leave thee weeping. For thee I lived and died ; Behold My Hands,— My Side Pierced for thy sake;— hast thou not heard the story ? Mark well My Crown of thorn, My Body bruised and torn ; — Come unto Me, and thou shalt share My glory. 1 1 " THINKING OF JESUS." A poor woman who was dying said in her last hours, "I can do nothing for myself, — I cannot even read the Bible ; so I lie here, thinking of Jesus." (HE year is near its end, and hoar- frost blanches Green turf and dark brown slopes at morning prime, Sorrowful winds go sighing through the branches, Where amber leaves yet linger for a time ; Virginian creepers hang their scarlet fringes Athwart old crumbling walls, grown worn and grey — And solemnly their dying glory tinges Yon window with the beauty of decay. Dim eyes look through the narrow cottage casement, Where dark red roses on their slender stalks Bow down their heavy heads in self-abasement, And drop their petals on the moss-grown walks ; Dim eyes — whose glances nevermore shall brighten At sight of young spring blossoms in their bloom, Nor need the gleam of primroses to lighten The dull grey shadows of the little room. 1 2 Psalms of Life. She will not view those upland fields snow-shrouded, Nor mark the fair frost-tracery on the pane, Nor watch the sky by winter gloom o'erclouded, Nor see the Christmas stars shine out again. She will not listen to the church bells ringing From the old tower their Christmas greeting sweet, Nor hear the clear child-voices blithely singing Their ancient carols through the village street. Yet through the long, long hours, while strength is wasting, She lieth calmly in the shadows dim, " Thinking of Jesus," every moment hasting Nearer and nearer unto home and Him ; "Thinking of Jesus," when the moonbeams soften The room's harsh outlines with a touch of grace ; " Thinking of Jesus," — meekly praying often That ere the day dawn she may see His face. Her life hath been a time of toil and weeping, Few sunbeams came to make her pathway bright; Her hands have sown, while other hands were reaping ; Her heart was sad, while other hearts were light. Forgotten by the world — by friends forsaken, In the hard struggle for her daily bread ; Yet her meek trust in God remained unshaken, — " Thinking of Jesus," she was comforted. " Thinking of Jesus. '' 13 Ah ! there are many in the world's high places Whose minds are filled with thoughts of selfish schemes, Who wear the weary shadow on their faces, That comes of blighted hopes and broken dreams ; Could they but stand beneath this roof so lowly, And see the work that Christ's dear love can do, Making the dying spirit calm and holy, Would they not long to think of Jesus too ? Thinking of Him, no earthly hand shall sever Her soul's firm tendrils from the living Vine : For faith shall hold Him fast, and trust Him ever — Not even death can make that clasp untwine ! Give me such confidence, Thou blest Redeemer, Teach me to love Thee with unwearied zest, That I, no more a vain, bewildered dreamer, " Thinking of Jesus," may find peace and rest. 14 Psalms of Life. "A PLACE CALLED GETHSEMANE." " By Thine agony and bloody sweat ; by Thy cross and passion ; by Thy precious death and burial ; by Thy glorious resurrection and ascension ; and by the coming of the Holy Ghost, good Lord, deliver us." 1 ONELY Gethsemane, My spirit turns to thee From this poor world of perishable bloom ; Seeking thy dusky bowers, I muse in silent hours, 'Mid the dim shadow of thine olive gloom. For me, O Christ, for me, That pallid Brow I see Steeped in thick night-dew, — pressed upon the sod; For me, for me, I know That Head was bowed so low In Thy great conflict, O Thou Son of God ! Visions of coming woes In that dread hour arose ; — A spectral Cross upon a darkened hill, — A maddened, mocking throng, — A Victim borne along, — Thou sawest all, and Thou wert willing still. Gethsemane. i = Down in that sombre glade The paschal moonbeams strayed Through the deep leafy silence brooding there ; Silvered the olive boughs, And bound those sacred brows With a pale ring of glory, dim and fair. Did not Thine eyes foresee Another crown, — for Thee, Woven of thorns, and wet with crimson dew? O Love, so sorely tried, That would not set aside The pangs which Thine omniscient soul foreknew Ah ! when this fevered life Draws me within its strife, And holds me in its silken web of lies, Lead me awhile with Thee To sad Gethsemane, Where the dark branches quivered to Thy -sighs. Break Thou the charmed sleep, And give me strength to keep Watch with my Lord one hour, that I may see A little of that woe From whence my bliss shall flow, And know the pain that won such joy for me. Yea, Jesus, even more ; If Thy dear Hand should pour Into my cup a draught of deadly wine, 1 6 Psalms of Life. Let me, for Thy sweet sake, The bitter chalice take, Saying, " Thy will be done, O Lord, — not mine ! " So shall this moonlit shade Dearer to me be made Than the marred beauty of old Eden bowers ; Dearer the midnight breeze That stirs those solemn trees Than the rich breath of June's full-blossomed flowers. Lonely Gethsemane, My spirit turns to thee, Seeking thy silent, angel-haunted sod, In that far Eastern land Where yet His feet shall stand When men shall know Him for the Son of God. i7 p -i THE KNIGHT'S TOMB. " It is sown in dishonour; it is raised in glory : it is sown in weakness ; it is raised in power :" "It is sown a natural body; it is raised a spiritual body." af^'ERE in the old side-chapel, calmly- lying With hands crossed meekly as a sign of grace, And ruby gleams from yon rich window dyeing The cold white pallor of his sculptured face \ He sleepeth well ; the tender light hath crowned him With a dim aureole of golden mist ; And the grey shadows ever shifting round him Are touched by changeful tints of amethyst. Day after day the deep prayer-music pealing Through mighty arches, rolls above his breast ; And flute-like notes from boyish voices stealing Seem but to lull him into calmer rest. But who can tell the passion and the anguish, The long, sad watch that came before the sleep ? How often did his knightly spirit languish In the stern vigil it was doomed to keep ! 1 8 Psalms of Life. The sword and shield in deadly fight were dinted Ere Death's low tones might bid the conflict cease, And God's white angel with a touch imprinted On that worn brow his seal of perfect peace. And we the living, who with quiet paces Come here to gaze upon his marble bed, Bringing our restless hearts and care-lined faces So near the hallowed slumber of the dead ; We too must know the striving and the failing, The daily war with unrelenting foes, Until, by heavenly might at last prevailing, We gain the victory, and earn repose : Resting until the trump of resurrection Awakes us at the Lord's appointed hour, And our own bodies clad in full perfection, Once sown in weakness, shall be raised in power. First the long strife — the sleep — and then the waking, The sudden change from peace to ecstasy, When we, the image of our Maker taking, Shall wear His likeness through eternity. *^£S?^> 19 ONE OF THE SONGS OF SION" fc And again they said, Alleluia." ^fllSII^ OWN below me lay the fertile acres, By the mellow sunshine warmly- kissed ; K (^^^^ / Far away I saw the white sea-breakers Glimmer through a veil of gauzy mist. Down below me lay the wooded valleys, Shrining village homes and rural loves In the quiet of their cool green alleys, Haunted by the murmur of the doves. Sunlit slopes with shady purple tinges, Furzy commons stretching free and wide ; Solitary pools with reedy fringes, Where the moorhen and the plover hide. At my feet, like filmy fairy tangles, Silken webs athwart the turf were spread ; And, like gems, the wonderful dew spangles Flashed and glittered on each slender thread. Up above me rose the hill-top, crested By an ancient church, all grey and worn \ And I paused for weariness, and rested In the glory of the early morn. 20 Psalms of Life. Sunlight on the summer world was lying, Darkness veiled my spirit like a shroud ! And I prayed in bitter sorrow, crying For the light that shines behind the cloud. Then I wept and listened, waiting, pleading, Hoping vainly for an answering word ; But the soft south wind swept by unheeding, And the harebells quivered, lightly stirred. Bright-winged butterflies around me fluttered, Bees were booming through the golden air, While the troubled soul within me uttered All her passion in a voiceless prayer. Lo ! a sudden strain of music straying Downwards from the church's open door Hushed the bitter words my heart was saying, Chased away the cloud for evermore ! Children's voices through the stillness ringing, Drifted softly far across the sod ; Children's voices— gladly, sweetly singing Alleluia to the praise of God. As a sign of tender love and pity Came the hallowed tones and lingered long : Like a message from the Golden City, Blending with the notes of earthly song. Deep into the spirit's darkest regions Flashed the light, let in by that sweet hymn " Alleluia," sing the white-robed legions, " Alleluia," chant the seraphim ! "Alleluia." 21 As the sick man, on his weary pillow, Listens for the herald of the dawn ; Hears the low breeze rustle through the willow, Hears the grasses whisper on the lawn ; Knowing surely that the gentle warning, Lightly breathed by winds upon the earth, Is the mystic harbinger of morning, Wafted from the chambers of her birth ; So the soul, in Lenten darkness shrouded, Hears the songs of Sion chanted here, Surest tokens of that dawn unclouded, Soon to burst upon our shadowed sphere. Surest tokens of the music breaking In great waves upon the glassy sea, Where the minstrels of the Lord are waking Anthems of eternal melody. 22 Psalms of Life. THE COMMUNION OF SAINTS. " And we also bless Thy holy name for all Thy servants departed this life in Thy faith and fear ; beseeching Thee to give us grace so to follow their good examples, that with them we may be partakers of Thy heavenly kingdom." [HE night steals on apace, and white mists creep Over low-lying fields and valleys still ; The crimson sky grows dull, and shadows deep Gather beneath the hill. Slowly I see the heavens unfold afar, Like dusky purple curtains softly drawn Asunder, and one tremulous bright star Steps out to watch till dawn. The breezes sleep, but autumn flower-scents roam, With mystic sweetness in each wandering breath, As if to tell us of the angels' home, Where there is no more death. And thoughts of that far-distant spirit-land Fill us with longings, till we pine to see The faces of the lost, and understand Our life's great mystery. The Communion of Saints. 2$ This we believe, our risen Lord above Hath knit together in one holy bond The Church on earth, whose very name we love, With the great Church beyond. With angels and archangels, and with all The company of heaven, do we praise ; But theirs are now the endless festival, And ceaseless holy days. Ours are the Alleluias faint and brief, The Sundays that like gems lie far apart ; The " Miserere " chanted low, when grief Burdens the feeble heart. Ours is the love for those beyond the strife, We thank Him in the words well known and dear, For all His saints departed from this life In His own faith and fear. Ours are the shadows and the gloom of Lent, And the brief joy while Easter glories shine ; The comfort of Christ's blessed Sacrament, His flesh and blood divine. Theirs is the shade no longer, but the light That never fades, and Jesu's presence sweet Revealed not only unto faith, but sight, Perfect, and most complete. 24 Psalms of Life. It is but death's dark curtains that divide The saints above from those they loved so well j Friends may still wander with us side by side, Near, but invisible ; — May still at times be suffered to return To the old haunts they knew in years gone by, Though human eyes are powerless to discern These spirit-watchers nigh. In the unbroken calm of evening hours, Perchance they walk on earth with noiseless tread ; They whisper to us in the sighs of flowers, Saying, " Be comforted ; " We too have trod the sad world's thorny way, Have borne, as ye do now, the secret grief; Have seen our earthly hopes, like yours, decay. And fade as doth a leaf. " And we have won the rest that ye shall win ; Hereafter ye shall sing the song of praise That all Christ's children, who have come within The Church Triumphant, raise." " Still the Church Militant must watch and wait, With eager eyes turned ever to the east ; Until the Bridegroom opes the golden gate, And calls her to the feast." 25 ORGAN NOTES. " A song and melody, in our heaviness. " CHOES of cathedra] music Heard, it may be, long ago, Linger with us unforgotten, Haunt us still, and live and grow ; They are drifting, softly drifting Through the wild unrest of life, Golden organ notes, uplifting Weary souls above the strife. Though the clamour of the city Round our outer being rolls, Still those sacred notes are filling All the chambers of our souls ; As if touched by hands immortal, Stray chords, tremulous with love, Drifted through some open portal Of the wondrous Church above ! In the grey and silent morning, Ere the shadows are withdrawn, When the white mist hides the valley With a veil of airy lawn ; c 26 Psalms of Life. Then we listen, hearing slowly Through the stillness deep and calm, Murmurs of that music holy, Like the cadence of a psalm. When the summer sunset lingers Low adown the crimson west, And the weary hands are folded With the blessed sense of rest ; Then we listen, strengthened, soothed By the magic of that strain, Till the furrowed brow is smoothed, And the heart grows young again. They are drifting, softly drifting Through the great world's daily strife, Golden organ notes that tell us Of a new and better life ; *Low, clear music, sweetly blending With the spirit's voiceless cry ; Undertones that have no ending, Echoes of eternity ! 2 7 THE CROWN OF PATIENCE. "If thou wilt not suffer, thou refusest to be crowned ; but if thou desirest to be crowned, fight manfully, and endure patiently." — Thomas a Kempis. KNELT before mine Holy One In spring-tide's early days ; I worshipped there, the very air Was tremulous with praise ! The song of birds was in the land, The wind was cool and sweet ; I carried lilies in mine hand, And laid them at His feet. Then in that morning light He smiled As thus He spake to me, — " Lo, as the lily among thorns Must My beloved be." I knelt before mine Holy One In summer's balmy hours ; The winds were hushed, the earth w 7 as flushed With lavish bloom of flowers : I heard the murmur of the dove In forest arches dim ; And as a token of my love A rose I brought to Him. 28 Psalms of Life. Then in that golden light He smiled As thus He spake to me, — " Lo ! I alone am Sharon's Rose, That blossomed once for thee." I knelt before mine Holy One When songs of joy were borne From fruitful lands, where busy hands Were binding up the corn : The wild flowers drooped upon the plain Beneath the languid heat ; I brought an ear of golden grain, And laid it at His feet. Then in that mellow light He smiled As thus He spake to me, — " I only am the Bread of Life, And I will nourish thee." I knelt before mine Holy One When all my hopes were dead ; On field and height, a shroud of white The silent snows had spread : No flower was left to live forlorn And brave the bitter blast ; I wove a coronal of thorn, And brought my Lord at last. Then in that dreary light He smiled As thus He spake to me, — "This is the crown, the cruel crown. That once I wore for thee. The Crown of Patience. 29 " Go, bind the chaplet round thy brows, And wear it for My sake ; With faith and prayer thy slender share Of sorrow meekly take ! Mine hand shall aid thee in thy need, My love shall hold thee up ; But as thou art Mine own indeed, Thy lips shall taste My cup : Bear on awhile, My tender care Shall guard thee day and night, And give thee for thy crown of thorns A diadem of light." 3o Psalms of Life. THE CHILDREN'S ANGELS. "Some have entertained angels unawares." ERE lies the village in its nest of green, With plumy pine trees ever sighing round ; And through dark boughs you catch the silver sheen, And hear the river-sound : While clamorous crows across the lowlands ca 1, Blotting the cloudless sky with sable wings ; Or perching idly on the grey church wall, Where fibrous ivy clings. Here stands the old farmhouse, with moss-grown eaves, Where sparrows chirp, and building martins hide ; Its porch a very bower of dancing leaves, Its casements opened wide. Above the golden thatch the sweet-briar flings Its long green arms, and pink, shell-tinted flowers ; And soft bird-music from the garden rings Through long, long summer hours. The Children's Angels. 3 1 Here in the doorway framed in shifting shade, Mary, the meek house-mother, calmly sits \ While round her brows the mellow light hath made A glory as she knits. Swift glide her glancing needles to and fro, Her ball of yarn moves softly at her feet ; Her cheeks are pale, her locks are white as snow, Her eyes are strangely sweet. Something outlived and something yet to come Have set on her calm face the seal it wears ; You know that when those patient lips are dumb Her soul is full of prayers. Ask for the story that she loves to tell, The simple tale of comfort born in pain ; A dream perchance it may be called, — ah, well, Such dreams are not in vain ! " I had three children, sir ; five years ago A fever came, and swept my two away ; It was to me a time of frenzied woe, I could not weep nor pray. " No tender thought of comfort came to me, And I grew hard and thankless in my grief; The cruel wind had stripped my household tree, And left but one small leaf. 32 Psalms of Life. " I languished in the stillness of the house, I missed the tiny shouts and words and cries ; My one wee darling — quiet as a mouse, Watched me with large, sad eyes. " I missed them in the budding days of spring, I missed them when I saw the ripe nuts fall ; But when the Christmas chimes began to ring, I missed them most of all ! " On Christmas evening in yon little room My child lay sleeping on her father's knee, My good man slumbered too ; and awful gloom Had settled down on me. " Without — I heard the Christmas carols sung ; Within — I only saw those vacant chairs ; Ah me ! I shivered in my woe, and wrung My wild hands unawares ! " And was I dreaming, sir? — I scarcely know (The carols sounded louder in the street) : But a bright angel, white as driven snow, Sat in each darling's seat. " I cannot tell, it might have been a dream, But from that hour mine agony was past ; Angels were in the house — I caught the gleam Of wings around me cast. The Children's Angels. oo " One blossom springeth when another dies, The wild rose blushes in the hawthorn's place ; Nought lieth waste — for Nature's hand supplies Each void with fresher grace. " And in the heart no blanks unfilled remain, Each empty seat shall have its angel guest ; Our saddest losses bring our highest gain • — Through sorrow cometh rest. " That is my story, sir ; and it may be A doting mother's fancy, vague and wild ; Yet in my soul I know God gave to me An angel for each child." 34 Psalms of Life. A FAREWELL COMMUNION. "Lord, I have loved the habitation of Thy house, and the place where Thine honour dwelleth." NE gleam of rosy fire Has touched the tall church spire ; And the soft dreamy light of early day Steals through the ancient street, Where many weary feet Have trodden patiently their toilsome way. And, like an olden rhyme, The silver-sounding chime Wakens sweet echoes in the thoughtful breast, — Echoes of other days, Of peace and prayer and praise, And tender memories of Sunday rest. The sweet, sad Autumn weaves Her crown of crimson leaves, And a low breeze goes softly singing by; With airy touch it waves The grass upon the graves, And creeps within the old church door to die. A Farewell Communion. 35 Here, in the quiet aisle, I pause a little while To gaze on vaulted roof and column fair, And watch the fitful shade By rainbow colours made On time-worn pavement and on marble stair. Father and Friend divine, In this fair house of Thine, Where oft in fervent prayer Thy child hath bent, Let special grace come down, The closing rite to crown, Be with me now in this last Sacrament. O Saviour, ever blest, My soul first tasted rest In this dear church, where Thou didst first impart Thyself in wine and bread, And here sustained and fed, I held Thy very Presence in mine heart. Lord Jesus, deign to pour Thy gift of life once more Into my spirit ere I leave this place : Let the last banquet be Sweetest of all to me, More richly mingled with Thy love and grace. Help Thou this feeble heart ; Teach me when I depart Thy power can reach me o'er life's barren lands ; 36 Psalms of Life. Not in this church alone Thy blessings wait Thine own \ Thou dwellest not in temples made with hands. The poorest house of prayer Is rich if Thou art there ; When Thou didst celebrate the Paschal Feast, No pomp of stately gloom Adorned that " upper room," Thou wert Thyself both Sacrifice and Priest. Do Thou my Guardian be, Lest I lose sight of Thee In the fair beauty of Thine earthly fane ; Unless Thy Spirit's might Direct mine heart aright, And fix my thoughts on Thee, all else is vain. Though blessed be these walls, Wherein my soul recalls The day of her espousal unto Thee, A thousand times more blest Is that beloved Guest Who in the wilderness will come to me. 0/ < ; CLOSER THAN A BROTHER." " I have heard of Thee by the hearing of the ear : but now mine eye seeth Thee." I. UNTHRONED upon the purple-vested WM hills Sat the fair Autumn in her regal glow, ^nd the clear voices of the silver rills Made music down below. The woods were glorious, but far and near The scattered leaves their gleams of scarlet shed. As if the life-blood of the dying year Had stained them ruby-red. And the strange stillness soothed us more and more As on we wandered slowly, hand in hand, Like lovers in the magic days of yore Passing through fairy-land. For twisted roots of wild fantastic shape Haunted our path with limbs of rugged brown : This seemed a satyr, that a goblin ape Wearing an ivy crown. o 8 Psalms of Life. friend, we knew that happiness like ours Was solemn in its purity, and rare ; Treading the borders of immortal bowers, Breathing immortal air ! Then softly as an angel clothed in white Came Death, and met us with a placid smile ; Laid on our clasping hands his finger light, And whispered, " Part awhile." ii. Low in the heavens stooped the fiery sun, Flushing the peaceful landscape far and wide ; When sudden I became aware of One Close walking by my side. He spake of comfort, but I would not weep, Wrapping the chilly mantle of despair More closely round my stricken soul, to keep All hope from entrance there. At length, grown w T eary of my woe, I turned To gaze awhile on my companion's face ; Ah me ! I trembled, for mine eyes discerned Thereon a blood-red trace. " Is this," I said, " the sunset's parting stain That casts a rosy shadow on Thy brow?" But faster fell the drops like crimson rain, "Ah, Lord, I know Thee now ! 4i Closer than a Brother." 39 " Forgive the feeble soul that understands So little of this wondrous love of Thine." He answered, holding out His pierced hands. " Was any grief like Mine ? " I knelt and kissed my Saviour's wounded feet, Like Magdalene I washed them with my tears ; Fast flowed the healing waters fresh and sweet From fountains sealed for years. Then on my trembling lips I felt His kiss, I heard His promise of eternal rest ; The world grew darker, but the light of bliss Remained within my breast. 4-0 Psalms of Life. THE SPIRIT OF GOD. 11 The wind bloweth where it listeth, and thou hearest the sound thereof, but canst not tell whence it cometh, and whither it goeth." "Thou knowest not what is the way of the Spirit." SOFT wind-voices through the pine boughs straying, Swinging the plumy branches to and fro ; Who shall declare the words that ye are saying, Or follow where ye go ? Ye murmur — and the full-blown blossoms quiver, While seeds of life are wafted through the air ; Ye mutter — and the foam-pearls strew the river, And tall reeds tremble there. Great is the Hand that scatters blessings seed-like, Whose germs are carried by His Spirit's wings ; Blest is the pliant soul that bendeth reed-like Before its whisperings. O give us grace to hear its mystic sighing, To catch the music of its lightest tone ; And let the echo in our hearts replying, Thy Spirit-message own. The Spirit of God. 41 Grant us Thy power, O Lord, to shape and fashion The deed that springs from the imparted thought; Oh, give us words to speak our poet-passion, And tell what Thou hast wrought ! Oh, bend the stubborn knees in meek devotion, Oh, bow the haughty souls in humble prayer • And let Thy rushing wind of pure emotion Clear all the tainted air. Not unto us, O Christ, shall praise be given, To Thee be glory for Thy gift divine, With sin and wrath Thy Spirit's might hath striven, And all the work is Thine. The one pure feeling through our darkness drifting. White-winged and beautiful as some stray dove, The sudden prayer our heavy hearts uplifting With all the strength of love ; The kind word uttered to the feeble-hearted. The bold word spoken that Thy light may shine, These are the promptings by Thy breath imparted, And all the praise is Thine. O soft wind- voices through the pine-boughs stray ing, We cannot trace the airy paths ye go ; O breath of God, our human spirits swaying, Thy way we cannot know ! 42 Psalms of Life. A PILGRIM'S PR A YEP. ' ' Those things which for our unworthiness we dare not, and for our blindness we cannot ask, vouchsafe to give us for the worthiness of Thy Son, Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen." ^^tK/^l^EARY and sad to-night, I look to Thee for light ; Thick darkness rests upon the road I tread; Let but one beam of Thine Over the pathway shine, And Thy poor pilgrim shall be comforted. Longing for strength and grace, I strive to see Thy face, Like some lone worshipper in dim-lit aisle Seeking with earnest gaze To pierce the twilight haze That veils from him the Saviour's pictured smile. Still for Thy voice I pine, Catching a word of Thine As one who hears amid the city's roar Some low-toned silver note Of chanting voices float Forth from the grey cathedral's open door. A Pilgrim's Prayer. 43 Saviour and Brother dear, I know that Thou art near, In Thy blest presence would my soul rejoice ; But this dim mortal sight Can scarce perceive Thy light, And these dull ears but faintly hear Thy voice, Watch me and guard me well, Lest the world's evil spell Breathed on my faith should make the flame expire ; Strengthen the feeble hands To work at Thy commands, And fill the heart with heavenly desire. Let me be purified As gold by fire is tried, Make me a jewel meet for Thee to wear ; Cleanse Thou my garment's stain, Let it be white again As angels' raiment, beautiful and fair. Sustain me when I sink, And suffer me to drink Of living water that I thirst no more ; Over this desert sand Guide me like Israel's band, And let Thy cloudy pillar go before. Give me the power to pray, Call back the thoughts that stray On airy wings, in vain unmeaning flight ; 44 Psalms of Life. Jesus, be all-in-all, Hold every sense in thrall, And thrill the soul with infinite delight. Let faith be granted me Thy heavenly Face to see, Mine unbelief alone creates the cloud ; Only my doubts and fears Keep from my longing ears The blessed Voice that speaketh clear and loud. Give me sweet hours of rest, Leaning upon Thy breast Like the belov'd disciple ; let me be A favoured child of grace, Held in my Lord's embrace Close to the Heart so deeply pierced for me. 45 E VENSONG. 1 ' I will lay me down in peace, and take my rest : for it is Thou, Lord, only, that makest me dwell in safety." INKS the kingly sun in crimson splendour, While the sweet bells chime for evensong ; Comes the evening breeze with murmurs tender Rustling in the churchyard grasses long. Fall the autumn leaves, with glory painted, Like the tints from chancel windows shed, Where the vestments of the figures sainted, Blaze with amber glow and ruby red. Showers of gold and scarlet hide the mosses That have clustered on the churchyard way : Sunset colours rest upon the crosses, And the hallowed walls so grave and grey. Drifting through the church's open portal, See the dead leaves scattered on the aisle ; But the Tree of Life hath leaves immortal, We shall pluck them in a little while. 46 Psalms of Life. Yonder where the trailing ivy fetters Stones all lichen-grown, and grey with years, We may trace some broken, worn-out letters, Seen but dimly through our falling tears. Time will wear away these feeble traces \ Names of those released from earthly strife May be gone from graveyard resting-places , But are written in the Book of Life. Nothing shall be lost ; His promise liveth Through the ages ; Jesus Christ will keep All the Father gave Him, and He giveth His beloved ones the gift of sleep. But the bells have ceased ; the organ pealing Calls us with its music deep and strong; Let us enter here, and meekly kneeling, Ask Him to accept our evensong. Father, let our evening praise ascending Unto Thee find favour in Thine eyes : Jesus ! may Thy Holy Spirit blending With our prayers, make pure the sacrifice. Let these weary hearts grow lighter, thinking Of the land where there is no more night ; Show the feeble faith, so nearly sinking, One bright vision of intense delight ! Evensong. 47 Let one golden harp-note reach us clearly From that white-robed multitude of Thine \ Lift our souls by one faint echo merely Of the anthems raised by choirs divine. Let the angels — who unseen behold us, Watching at Thy bidding evermore — Roll away the shadows that enfold us, And reveal one glimpse of yonder shore. Guard us waking, Saviour, guard us sleeping \ Let no evil dreams our rest destroy \ Bring us safely through the night of weeping To the glory of Thy morn of joy. 48 Psalms of Life. LIGHT ABOVE THE CITY, "There is sprung up a light for the righteous, and joyful gladness for such as are true-hearted." BO VE— soft clouds like tinted snow- drifts flying Over the quiet sky, so calmly bright ; Beneath the city with its house-roofs lying Veiled by the tender haze of dying light : Above — the solemn peace, the tranquil glory That follows oft a day all dim with showers ; Beneath — the great unrest, the old, sad story, The throbbing pulses of this world of ours. The golden rays grew paler as they drifted Down into crowded places foul and dun ; Only the tall spires, out of shadow lifted, Caught the last brightness of the sinking sun : Night hovers in the streets, while daylight lingers Still in those upper realms so purely clear, — Weaving her sable shroud with hasty fingers To cover every touch of radiance here. Rich city, with thy gathered heaps of treasure, Thy sculptured palaces of regal state, Where Dives, clad in purple, feasts at pleasure, While Lazarus starves unheeded at the gate ; Light above the City. 49 Hast thou no earnest glances, upward tending, Which turn from earth to seek this placid sky ? Hast thou no silent breath of prayer ascending From human hearts grown sick with vanity? Yea, from the narrow court and gloomy alley Rises the spirit's incense fresh and sweet, — Pure as the sighs of lilies of the valley, Whose fragrance floats along the sordid street ; There are wise virgins here, whose lamps are burning Through the long vigil with unfailing light ; These watch in patience for the Lord's returning, And for His sake they keep their garments white. They hear a sound of golden harp-notes stealing Through the loud tumult of the city's din ; And each repining thought and bitter feeling Is silenced by that holy strain within ; With every cry of weariness and sorrow Comes the soft music of some undertone, To tell them of the glorious to-morrow, When Jesus Christ shall comfort all His own. For such as these, the Light above the city Is shining even in their darkest hours, While the gay world, too wild to pause and pity, Goes trampling underfoot life's withered flowers, And the low wail of pain is sadly sighing Through the exultant sounds of festal song ; God's faithful children, on His word relying, Look upward to His heaven, and grow strong. 50 Psalms of Life. These feeble bands the Father deigns to strengthen, These wounded hearts He heals with balm of love ; Life's eventide draws on, — the shadows lengthen, But light still dwells in those pure skies above ! Soon shall the rush of countless angel-pinions Sweep through the air ; and loud the herald's cry Shall ring throughout the world's defiled dominions, " Behold, O earth, the Bridegroom draweth nigh ! " 5i THE DESERTED HOUSE. ' ; We have a building of God, an house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens." ^^HE old house is deserted ; And throughout the bleak March day Come the fitful, sad sea breezes, Round its silent walls to play ; And the wild March rains are beating On the green lawn, smooth and fair, While the lonely weeping willow Trails its wind-tossed branches there. No faces at the windows, And no footsteps in the hall : For there broods a sullen silence While the shadows rise and fall ; And the restless winds of ocean Blowing far across the foam, Moan a passing wail of pity For the place once called a home. But there were children's voices In that house a while ago ; And the sound of little footsteps Pattered lightly to and fro ; 52 Psalms of Life. There where rosy, childish faces At the windows often pressed ; And in those dismantled chambers Happy children went to rest. And looking from the casements, Youthful dreamers loved to gaze Farathwart the waste of waters, Dim with golden sunset haze ; When the soul was yet unburdened, And the fancy wandered free, And life's secrets lay unfathomed Like the wonders of the sea ! In those dim rooms, together Gathered parents, young and old, When the Christmas psalms were chanted, And the Christmas stories told ; When the glow of winter firelight Gleams of changeful glory shed On the grey hairs of the grandsire, And the baby's golden head : And there were secret struggles, Mighty battles fought unknown ; For the silent mystic conflict Could be seen by God alone ; When the quiet walls have echoed To a wounded spirit's cry, And a mute white face was lifted In a prayer of agony. The Deserted House. And there were deep rejoicings When the gloomy shades were past, And the glimmer of the day-dawn Broke upon the soul at last ; O the strange unwritten stories That these silent chambers hold ! O the mysteries of passion That no language shall unfold ! Time worketh wondrous changes, And the lone heart weepeth sore O'er the goodly halls, deserted By the guests that come no more ; And it sees not at its threshold How the Saviour, knocking, stands, How He waits to lead it upward To " a house not made with hands. 1 ' For He hath many mansions In His Father's kingdom bright ; And they need not star nor sunshine, For His glory giveth light : There the peace is never broken, For the rest is calm and sweet \ And the scattered gems are gathered, And the parted friends shall meet. Thou knowest, loving Jesus, How to our poor homes we cling, 54 Psalms of Life. Though the tenants are departed, And have left us sorrowing : Take us quickly to Thy household, Hear our spirits' earnest prayer, That the circle of our dear ones May be found unbroken there ! 55 LAST WORDS. ; ' Let us labour therefore to enter into that rest." $* ESUS, I wait. 75 Last words breathed soft and low From dying lips grown tremulous and faint : O Great Life-giver, Thou didst surely know The yearnings of Thy saint. Waiting, — a moment only, — just a pause, A hush before the music had begun ; A silence ere the cloudy veil withdraws, And the bright home is won. " Jesus, I wait." Was He not waiting too, With hands outstretched in welcome, and with eyes Brimful of love, to guide His servant through The gates of Paradise ? O calm, safe rest ! all sorrows passed away Like twilight mists before a risen moon ; O blessed close to life's most weary day ! O peace attained so soon ! 56 Psalms of Life. Teach us to live, and living, wait for Thee, Redeemer, — making life and labour sweet ; Watching and working till our eyes shall see The Face they long to greet. Our highest earthly bliss, to do Thy will ; Our hope, the promise of Thy great reward ; Our effort, all Thy purpose to fulfil, And magnify the Lord. Teach us to wait, — as waits the ripened corn In golden fulness for the reaper's hand ; Meet for Thy garner, when the harvest morn Dawns o'er the weary land. And Thou wilt come with radiant angel train, Lord of the harvest ; claiming all Thine own ; Then shall we greet our dearest ones again, And know as we are known. Then shall the endless festival begin, And the long waiting, as a dream, go past ; For love, triumphant over death and sin, Shall reign supreme at last. 57 « GOD SHALL WIPE A WA Y ALL TEARS." " And sorrow and mourning shall flee away." J HERE are some whose tears are ready; There be some who cannot weep, But with faces calm and steady, All their keenest sorrows keep : Those, like April clouds, soon breaking Into brief and sudden rain ; These, like frozen rivers fettered By the winter's binding chain. And the tears set soon a-flowing May as easily be dried ; But some hearts would break in knowing All the woe of tears denied, Did not He whose tender pity Our unspoken anguish hears, Touch the rock and bring the waters, For He knows our need of tears. Yes, He knoweth ; and the blessing That our souls have often kept, When life's cross was sorely pressing, Is the brief text, " Jesus wept :" E 58 Psalms of Life. For we hear not that the angels Shed one tear for mortal woe, But our Maker took our nature And our sorrows here below. When the city lay before Him With its sun-touched towers so fair, When the people's shouts rose o'er Him, And "hosannas " rent the air; Saw He not those bright domes glimmer Through the mist of tears all dim ? Wept He not in His compassion, That they would not come to Him ? There be tears too often wasted In the early days of youth, For the wine that palls when tasted, For the love that has no truth : For the dreams that passion nurtures In the restless brain and heart, Till the stern, cold voice of reason Bids the dreams and dreamer part. There be tears for human blindness, For the errors of our life, That have made our love unkindness, And have turned our peace to strife ; When we weep o'er self- formed fetters That our hands can ne'er undo, Chafing madly at the bondage Which may not be broken through. " God shall wipe away all Tears." 59 There be tears, more sad than any, For the good that might have been : For the squandered moments many, For the grain we did not glean When we lingered in the corn-fields. Singing songs till set of sun, Till the last, last sheaf was gathered, And the harvest-time was done. We are longing, ever yearning For the time when Thou wilt reign, A triumphant King returning To Thy waiting bride again ; When Thou comest in Thy glory To begin the world's new day, And the tears from off all faces Thy dear Hand shall wipe away. 6o Psalms of Life. SPRING THOUGHTS. " all ye green things upon the earth, bless ye the Lord : praise Him and magnify Him for ever." ^ SAW the light of spring lie broad and soft On rich brown furrows tinged with emerald hue, And pure white clouds were drifting far aloft O'er a wide sea of blue. Between the ferny banks all green and moist, I wandered slowly down a sheltered way, Hearing the mavis piping dulcet-voiced His ancient roundelay. The strength of spring is in the swelling buds, And a dim greenness clothes the naked trees ; Amid the mosses gleam like ivory studs The wood-anemones. A golden touch unbinds the captive rill, The angry winds have ceased their bitter strife ; This world that lay so mute, and cold, and still, Has passed from death to life. Spring Thoughts. 61 We had long patience, Father, for Thy spring, We sat in tears, or lifted up our hands With passionate prayers to hear Thy minstrels sing Throughout our silent lands. And it hath come, the sweet hope long deferred ; The truth of Thine old promise seems revealed In rapturous warblings of each happy bird, In green blades of the field. Could we not trust Thee when our woods were bare, And Thy cloud-curtains hid the genial light ? While snowflakes whirling through the wintry air Buried our dead from sight ? Only at times our fretful hearts have traced Thy purpose in the storm-cloud and the rain, Knowing the Hand that laid our fair earth waste Could make it bloom again. And yet, beneath the snow-shroud white and chill The hidden germs of life lay safe and deep ; And all Thy vital laws were working still, Though we might doubt and weep. Has not our feeble faith Thy Spirit grieved? Have we not wearied Thee with thankless sigh, Forgetting all Thy blessed gifts received In fruitful days gone by ? O give us grace in surest hope to dwell, Until Thy love shall clothe each barren spot ! Teach us to feel Thou doest all things well, Although we see Thee not. 62 Psalms of Life. TRIAL. " If in the land of peace, wherein thou trustedst, they weaned thee, then how wilt thou do in the swelling of Jordan?" F in the palmy hours of youth, Thy life's fair morning-tide, Thou tremblest at the mimic waves O'er which thy bark must glide, What wilt thou do when Jordan's flood Swells in its angry might, And the clear azure of the skies Is changed to darkest night ? If in the sunny land of peace Wherein thou trustest now, Thy heart is vexed when blossoms fall From some o'erladen bough, What wilt thou do when all thy flowers Lie desolate and dead, And the sere leaves of withered hopes Rustle beneath thy tread ? If at some passing April shower Through which the sunlight shines, Thy chafing spirit murmurs sore, Thy wayward will repines, Trial 63 What wilt thou do when winter rain Beats wildly on thy breast, Without a single shelter near To give thee peace and rest ? If in these tranquil days of ours Thy weak hand fears to raise The holy symbol of thy faith, Or speak thy Master's praise, What wilt thou do in coining years, If some with sword and flame Should dare thee boldly to confess The Saviour's worthy Name ? O thank the Father if His love Hath led thy pilgrim feet Along a safely sheltered way, Through pastures green and sweet ; A sterner, darker path they knew, Those saints of high renown ; For he must bear the martyr's pain Who wins the martyr's crown ! Beyond dark Jordan's rolling waves The Golden City lies, And from its pearly portals wide Float holy melodies ; The voices of the ransomed there Ring o'er death's swelling tide ; Lift up thy head ; be strong — thou too Shalt reach the other side ! 64 Psalms of Life. Listen ! they sing the Lamb's new song ! In bitter, bygone years They learned the prelude of that strain With sighs and woe and tears ; They learned it here with breaking hearts In scorn and sorrow then ; But angels swell the chorus now, And join the grand Amen. Roll on, dark Jordan ; not the force Of gathered wave on wave Can keep one feeble pilgrim back Whom Jesus died to save ; Roll on, — the silver voices soar Above thy troubled foam, That those who breast thy tide may hear The music of their home. 65 " TR UL YMY HOPE IS E VEN IN THEE." " The more the outward man decayeth, strengthen him, we beseech Thee, the more continually with Thy grace and Holy Spirit in the inner man." jjES, I am waiting, very calmly waiting Until the silver cord is loosed; I know, By weariness increased and strength abating, That Death comes quickly : it is better so. Familiar things are round me, all unchanging With the great change that stealeth over me ; From bough to bough the birds I loved are ranging, The violets bloom beneath my favourite tree. How strange it seems thou wilt flow on, bright river, Winding thy silver course through valleys fair ; While on thy breast the golden sunbeams quiver, And the white lilies float serenely there. Still the west wind will murmur to the larches With the old music I have known so long, That stirred the tracery of sylvan arches, And filled the pauses in the blackbird's song. 66 Psalms of Life. I know the carpet of the shady dingle Is thick with moss, and many a primrose gem ; There hyacinths and wavy fern-plumes mingle, And village children go to gather them. They bring them to the Church, where willing fingers The buds and blossoms busily entwine ; And gladly o'er the work each spirit lingers, — But Easter wreaths will own no touch of mine. Oft I have pictured in my silent dreaming That ancient house of prayer on Easter morn, With the rich light through jewelled windows streaming On the frail symbols of the woodlands born ! While every Christian soul therein rejoices To sing Thy praise, O Lord of power and might ! And the great volume of the chanting voices Mingles with those that " rest not day nor night." Yea, theirs will be the Feast, — the Body broken, The precious Wine that hath so oft sufficed To cheer sad hearts ; the benediction spoken, The mystic presence of the risen Christ. Do Thou, O living Lord, my darkness lighten, Make Thou a temple of my lonely room • And let one sunbeam of Thy glory brighten These long, long hours of weariness and gloom. " Truly my Hope is even in Thee." 67 I will be patient till the summons reach me, That calls me evermore with Thee to dwell \ But ere I go, I pray Thee, Father, teach me To value here Thy gift unspeakable. Lead me a little while beside still waters. And let my soul in Thy green pastures feed \ Till with Thy ransomed flock, Thy sons and daughters, I go where Thou fulfillest all my need. Then though this mortal flesh, because of weakness, Permits me not in yon dear Church to be, I yet may hope, with reverence and in meekness, That Thou, my great High Priest, wilt come to me ! 68 Psalms of Life. "DELIVER US EROM EVIL? "Hold Thou me up, and I shall be safe." ORD of Thy church, we pray- That Thou wilt guard our feet from evil snares ; Let no temptations overtake to-day Thy children unawares. Keep us from hurtful things, And fill our souls so full of love and grace, That worldly thoughts, and vain imaginings May find no vacant place. Deliver us from pride ; Teach us, Thou lowly One, to learn of Thee, That we in meekness ever may abide, And deep humility. Keep us from unbelief; Let not the feeble flame of faith expire ; Breathe on the soul so dim with doubt and grief, And kindle holy fire. Deliver us from strife ; Let not our words like poisoned arro ws fly, But bid us look upon Thy blameless life, Thy perfect charity. " Deliver us from Evil." 69 Keep us from craven fear, That makes us shrink to wear Thy holy sign ; Rather let grateful hearts that hold Thee dear Exult in being Thine. Thus let us follow Thee Humbly and prayerfully, through joy or shame ; And teach us so to live, that we may be Worthy of Thy dear Name. &*)*(**% ;o Psalms of Life. IN TIME OF SICKNESS. " I will be glad, and rejoice in Thy mercy : for Thou hast considered my trouble, and hast known my soul in adversity. " AVIOUR, in mine hours of pain Send Thy Comforter to me ; All my sorrow shall be gain, If it brings one smile from Thee ; In the time of sharp distress Let me prove Thy tenderness. When this weary brow is worn By an anguish sore and keen, Jesus, show Thy crown of thorn, Teach me what Thy woe hath been ; O Thou Sufferer divine, Was there any grief like Thine? Set Thy precious Cross on high, Show Thy sacred Wounds afresh ; Thine was human agony, Thou didst suffer in the flesh : Saviour, when Thy pangs are shown, Shall I not forget mine own ? In Time of Sickness. Let this restless soul grow calm When Thy proofs of love I see ; Pour Thy crimson Blood as balm On the heart that longs for Thee Lamb of God, if Thou art near, Even sorrow will be dear. In Thy holy Church to-day Let Thy blessed Spirit wait ; Father, hear when Christians pray For the sick and desolate ; Comfort those who cannot share In Thy sacred service there. Thou canst raise an altar up, Even in this heart of mine ; There Thy grace can fill the Cup With Thy life-restoring Wine ; And my hungry soul is fed By Thine everlasting Bread. Then these hours of pain shall be Hours of holiness and love ; Hours of fellowship with Thee, Visions of Thy bliss above ; Wings, wherewith my soul may rise To the joys of paradise. 72 Psalms of Life. CHRISTMAS CHIMES. " Thanks be unto God for His unspeakable Gift." [HE winds are hushed, and pallid sun- beams glisten On the dark ivy and the crystal snow ; Chime on, sweet bells, while Christian spirits listen To strains of long ago. And who can say what tender recollections Of happy hours, and sorrowful farewells, Voices long hushed, and slumbering affections, Are wakened by the bells ? Our powers decay, our voices fail and alter, Time mars the music of the sweetest tongue ; Theirs are the tones that never change nor falter, Old, and yet always young. They bear to-day the ancient consolation ; A message " of great joy" their chime imparts, Stirring, with mystical reverberation, Thousands of weary hearts. Christmas Chimes. j$ Listen — they speak to thee, O mourning mother ! The Father will not leave thee all alone ; One hope is taken, but He gives another, The Christ-child is thine own. A new-born babe, He cometh, meek and lowly, To fill the void within thine aching breast \ To soothe thee with His love, so deep and holy, And give thee perfect rest. They speak to thee, O dreamer broken-hearted, Whose earthly lights have paled, or ceased to shine ; Why dost thou weep for fickle beams departed, When Jacob's Star is thine ? Lift up thine eyes ; that Light of Life immortal Shall chase all shadows from thy rugged way, Guiding thy feet to heaven's golden portal, Turning thy night to day. Chime on, sweet bells, your Christmas greetings flinging Like precious pearls upon the weary earth ; The world is sad ; but faith and hope up-springing, Shall hail Messiah's birth. € s^ 74 Psalms of Life. ST. MICHAEL AND ALL ANGELS. " Mercifully grant that as Thy holy Angels always do Thee service in heaven, so by Thy appointment they may succour and defend us on earth." WARM September sunset richly shading The furrowed uplands with a golden gleam ; And far away the dim hill-purples fading Into a dusky dream. An autumn peace on all the landscape sleeping, Sweeter than summer light or bloom of spring ; And this low wind, across the meadow sweeping, Sounds like an angel's wing. Ay, surely they are near us, — angel legions Are drifting downwards through the quiet air, Hearing glad tidings from immortal regions To earth-born sons of care. O everlasting God, Who hast ordained These bright-winged ministers to do Thy will, Let them be with us when our faith hath waned, To watch and comfort still. St. Michael and all Angels. 75 Thou knowest all our conflict — all the failing Of flesh and spirit lured by evil powers, The sore temptations these poor hearts assailing In our unguarded hours. The bitter strife, — the conquest won so dearly, The feeble strength that seems so fiercely tried : Thou knowest all — O Father, show us clearly The bright ones on our side ! Show us the serried ranks that ever cluster Round the baptized children of the Lord ; Each with white robes that never lose their lustre, And adamantine sword ! So shall we fear no evil : living, dying, Our souls are in Thy care, Thou wilt defend The faithful servants on Thy love relying, Even until the end. j6 Psalms of Life. 7 HE CHRISTIAN'S "GOOD NIGHT!" The early Christians were accustomed to bid their dying friends " Good night ! " so sure were they of their awaking at the Resurrection morning. LEEP on, beloved, sleep and take thy rest, 4£gg|jS\ Lay down thy head upon thy Saviour's Jsllp/ breast ; We love thee well, but Jesus loves thee best \ — Good night ! Calm is thy slumber as an infant's sleep ; But thou shalt wake no more to toil and weep ; Thine is a perfect rest, secure and deep ; — Good night ! Until the shadow from this earth is cast, Until He gathers in His sheaves at last, Until the Lenten gloom is overpast ; — Good night ! Until the Easter glory lights the skies, Until the dead in Jesus shall arise, And He shall come— but not in lowly guise ; — Good night ! The Christian's " Good Night!" 77 Until, made beautiful by love divine, Thou in the likeness of thy Lord shalt shine, And He shall bring that golden crown of thine ; — Good night ! Only " Good night !" beloved, not " Farewell !" A little while, and all His saints shall dwell In hallowed union, indivisible; — Good night ! Until we meet again before His throne, Clothed in the spotless robe He gives His own ; Until we know, even as we are known ; — Good night ! 78 Psalms of Life. TAKE UP THY CROSS. "In the world ye shall have tribulation." ^AKE up thy cross, and follow Me," (Dost thou not hear thy Saviour say?) " And as thy day thy strength shall be, I am the Life, the Truth, the Way. An easy path, a flowery road, Behold, I have not promised thee ; But I will help thee bear thy load : Take up thy cross, and follow Me. " Storm-tossed, or scorched by noontide heat, Press on across the desert lone ; With aching brow and bleeding feet, I lead thee on by ways unknown : A life of woe and strife and fears Thy course on earth must ever be, But I will wipe away thy tears : Take up thy cross, and follow Me. " I give thee neither gold nor gem, No earthly treasure thou shalt share j Mine is a thorny diadem. And such must all My servants wear ; Take up thy Cross. 79 But far above the starry height, Within the home prepared for thee, Thy crown of glory glitters bright : Take up thy cross, and follow Me. '• My little flock, a weary band By foes and trials sore distressed, Must journey to the promised land, And trust My love to give them rest : Streams from the smitten rock shall flow, And angels' food thy bread shall be \ For all thy need I surely know : Take up thy cross, and follow Me." Yea, Lord, we come our cross to take ; O give us grace to watch and pray ! Content to suffer for Thy sake, Content to tread Thy rugged way ; O strengthen every trembling heart That longs yet fears Thine own to be ; Speak Thou, and bid our doubts depart : We will leave all, and follow Thee. 80 Psalms of Life. A MORN OF JO Y. ' The oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness. " jp*ERE in the old church porch we meet again After long years ; it seems like some sweet story, For us, whose paths so long apart have lain, To stand together in June's early glory ! Fair looks the land about us : o'er the scene Float some light mists, the summer's airy gauzes ; And strangely solemn, coming in between Our talk, the old church bells fill up the pauses. I have come hither very sore of heart On many bygone Sundays, praying only For strength to bear my cross and do my part In life, although my way were dark and lonely ; And God hath sent His Comforter, until The weary mind of half its load was lightened ; And I walked homewards through the woodland still, With stronger hope ; and faith restored and brightened. Now the old grief is ended : but I take My present happiness in grateful quiet ; Vet in past years I know such bliss would make Each pulse within me beat in rapturous riot \ A Morn of Joy. 81 But those wild days are gone, and better far Is this deep sober gladness, — calmer, purer Than the outpourings of youth's first hopes are; — Those joys may be more ardent, — these are surer. Let us thank God together ; we shall feel More fitted for this happier existence, If at its opening, side by side we kneel, And see past troubles in the fading distance ; And He who gave us His unfailing care Through wasting years, and held us in His keeping, Will teach us in humility to bear The morn of joy, as the long night of weeping. Listen, — the organ's swelling waves of sound Summon the worshippers to prayer and praises ; The place whereon we stand is holy ground, For here the dead sleep on beneath the daisies, While we, the living, bless Thee, gracious Lord, With feeble lips and utterance faint and broken ; Thou wilt despise us not, we oft have poured Into Thine ear heart-breathings never spoken ! This day shall never be forgotten ; when The mortal shall have put on the immortal, And the freed spirit, all untrammelled then, Escapes the limits of life's narrow portal ; As now we enter His own church to-day, We ask, while faith and love our souls embolden, To pass as calmly from Time's shadows gray Into thy gates, Jerusalem the Golden ! 82 Psalms of Life. THE LESSON OF THE WATER-MILL. " But this I say, brethren, the time is short." ISTEN to the water-mill ; Through the livelong day How the clicking of its wheel Wears the hours away ! Languidly the autumn wind Stirs the forest leaves, From the field the reapers sing Binding up their sheaves ; And a proverb haunts my mind As a spell is cast ; " The mill cannot grind With the water that is past." Autumn winds revive no more Leaves that once are shed, And the sickle cannot reap Corn once gathered ; Flows the ruffled streamlet on, Tranquil, deep, and still ; Never gliding back again To the water-mill : Truly speaks that proverb old, With a meaning vast, — " The mill cannot grind With the water that is past." The Lesson of the Water-mill. 8; Take the lesson to thyself, True and loving heart ; Golden youth is fleeting by, Summer hours depart ; Learn to make the most of life, Lose no happy day, Time will never bring thee back Chances swept away ! Leave no tender word unsaid, Love while love shall last ; " The mill cannot grind With the water that is past." Work while yet the daylight shines, Man of strength and will ! Never does the streamlet glide Useless by the mill ; Wait not till to-morrow's sun Beams upon thy way, All that thou canst call thine own Lies in thy " to-day;" Power, and intellect, and health May not always last ; " The mill cannot grind With the water that is past." O the wasted hours of life That have drifted by ! O the good that might have been, — Lost, without a sigh ! 84 Psalms of Life. Love that we might once have saved By a single word, Thoughts conceived, but never penned, Perishing unheard \ — Take the proverb to thine heart, Take, and hold it fast, — " The mill cannot grind With the water that is past." 85 THE HILLS. " I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills." OME, for the mists are rising from the vale Like clouds of incense from a shrine of prayer ; Come up among the hills, the free strong gale Is blowing freshly there. There blooms the purple heather in its prime, There hums the wild bee in its happy flight ; There sound the sheep-bells like a fairy chime, Drifting from height to height. There float the light cloud shadows, and the blue Of the eternal dome above is nigh : There are no leafy boughs to screen from view That arch of sapphire sky. Come, for the wild free solitude is sweet, And far below shall lie the world of care ; No sound of strife, no tramp of restless feet Can ever reach thee there. 86 Psalms of Life. Come when thy soul within thee is opprest With vague misgivings and with musings sad, For in the sense of freedom there is rest — The hills shall make thee glad. Come, for each breath inspires some lofty thought When the pure mountain air thy spirit fills ; The lessons that the ancient sages taught Were learned among the hills. 37 VIA DOLOROSA. " That I may know Him, and the power of His Resurrec- tion, and the fellowship of His sufferings, being made con- formable unto His death ; 4 ' If by any means I might attain unto the Resurrection of the dead." 'NCLOSED by ruined walls, a narrow street, Spanned here and there by arches grey and worn, Haunted by shadows, squalid and forlorn, — Was this the path that bare His blessed feet ? O Son of God, whose human strength gave way Beneath the cross upon this cruel road, Thy sacred heart sustained a Heavier load, And bore it bravely through that bitter day ! Our sins once made that path so rough for Thee, The weight of our transgressions pressed Thee down ; Our guilty fingers wove Thy thorny crown, And nailed Thee, faint and bleeding, to the Tree. Ah, Lord ! we too our rugged path must tread In Lenten bitterness and anguish sore, But Thou hast passed the dolorous way before, And we must follow where Thy steps have led. 83 Psalms of Life. Teach us to suffer meekly; Thou dost know The hidden wrong our contrite hearts confess, Thine eyes can read our deep unworthiness, Thine ears are open to our cries of woe. Help us to crush beneath our bleeding feet All base affections and all hopes unblest ; The path of anguish leadeth on to rest, We taste the bitter ere we touch the sweet. Stray sunbeams wander through these darkened hours, And even in the solemn gloom of Lent Our chastened souls may feel a dim content, Faint as the breath of springtide's pallid flowers. Then guide us till the mournful road is past ; Though wet with tears, our faces learn to smile ; Sorrow endureth for a little while, But Easter light and joy shall come at last. 8 9 GOOD FRIDAY EVE. " Is it nothing to you, all ye that pass by? Behold and see if there be any sorrow like unto My sorrow." *ILL they think of Thy Cross and Thy sorrow, Thy pain that no mortal can know ? Will they watch for a few hours to-morrow With Thee in Thine infinite woe, And turn from the world's crowded places Awhile with Thy people to be, To kneel with the tears on their faces, And come in contrition to Thee ? Will they weep for the Heart that was broken That they might find comfort and bliss ? And oh, will they give Thee no token To show that they love Thee for this ? No sigh for the Brow that was bleeding, No tear for the spear-smitten Side ! Alas ! will they pass on unheeding, As if no Redeemer had died? 90 Psalms of Life. teach them with earnest endeavour To seek Thee while yet there is time ; Thy gates are not open for ever, Thy church-bells will ring their last chime That Voice full of soft invitation That pleads with the obdurate heart, Hereafter in just indignation Shall say to the godless, " Depart." Lord, show them Thine anguish to-morrow ; And call unto those that pass by, " Come, look on My passion and sorrow, And turn ye, for why will ye die ? 1 suffered, that ye might have pardon, I died, that your souls might be free, I bled, for the hearts that ye harden ; And will ye not come unto Me?" Let us who have tasted Thy sweetness, Learn more of the depth of Thy woes ; For love is not love in completeness If sweetness is all that it knows ; It needeth the bitter to make it All perfect as love ought to be ; Then mix Thou the cup, Lord, we take it, And drink it to-morrow with Thee. 9i THE HARDEST TIME OF ALL. " Hope deferred maketh the heart sick : but when the desire cometh, it is as a tree of life. " S^fe^^^SHERE are days of silent sorrow Tp^^^lJ In the seasons of our life, 9 There are wild despairing moments, There are hours of mental strife ; There are times of stony anguish, When the tears refuse to fall ; But the waiting time, my brothers, Is the hardest time of all. Youth and love are oft impatient, Seeking things beyond their reach ; And the heart grows sick of hoping Ere it learns what life can teach : For before the fruit be gathered We must see the blossoms fall ; And the waiting time, my brothers, Is the hardest time of all. We can bear the heat of conflict, Though the sudden crushing blow, Beating back our gathered forces, For a moment lays us low ; Psalms of Life. We may rise again beneath it, None the weaker for the fall ; But the waiting time, my brothers, Is the hardest time of all. For it wears the eager spirit As the salt waves wear the stone ; And the garb of hope grows threadbare, Till the brightest tints are flown : Then amid youth's radiant tresses Silent snows begin to fall ; Oh, the waiting time, my brothers, Is the hardest time of all ! But at last we learn the lesson That God knoweth what is best ; For with wisdom cometh patience, And of patience cometh rest \ Yea, — a golden thread is shining Through the tangled woof of fate ; And our hearts shall thank Him meekly, That He taught us how to wait. 93 AN AUTUMN MESSAGE. 1 In the multitude of the sorrows that I had in my heart, Thy comforts have refreshed my soul." ppj^N the dreamy autumn sunlight sleep the dim hills far away, And softly shines the silver mist across the fields to-day ; The sweet-brier flaunts its scarlet now, and droops the laden vine, And pearly jasmine- blossoms scent this quiet room of mine. They are falling, ever falling, those pale stars so purely white, They strew the level sward around like little flakes of light ; A breeze comes up this morning, and it freshens from the sea, And drifting through the casement, whispers tenderly to me. O the breeze, — where has it wandered ere it sought my chamber here ? Does it come to bring a message from the scenes I hold so dear? Has it passed an ancient city where the early morning air Is hallowed by the church-bells ringing out the call to prayer? 94 Psalms of Life. While slowly through the solemn church the virgin sunbeams crept, Perchance along those stately aisles the sighing zephyr swept, And whispered near the windows where the burning colours fell On the saintly sculptured faces with a beauty none can tell. I am here amid the dropping leaves and fading Autumn flowers, While steals the chilly twilight through the wan October bowers ; But the lilies keep their lustre on those sacred chancel panes, And the sanctuary's glory is a light that never wanes. The breeze has gone : it strayed away, along the dingle side ; It crept among the braken there, and laid it down and died : The- day's first prime is over, but the bees are booming yet Round the fuchsia's waxen petals, and the beds of mignonette. When the snowflakes hide my garden, and the cottage porch is bare, And mine eyes are seeking vainly for the wealth of foliage there, An Autumn Message. 95 I can picture all the beauty in a land beyond my gaze, And my spirit, looking upward, will not mourn for summer days ! And it may be that a breeze will come as it hath come to-day With a message and a token from that city far away ; With a murmur of the music from the ancient church I love, Drifting softly through my fancy like the low notes of a dove. There will come another message, but I may not know the time, Whether it shall be at even, or at morning's early prime ; It will reach me from a City that hath streets of purest gold, Where the gates of pearl stand open, and the treasures are untold. There the bliss is never ended, and the song is never done, There the silver wings of angels shine around the Holy One ; And the white robes of the ransomed gleam beside the crystal sea : — Should I turn aside or tremble, when that message comes to me ? 96 Psalms of Life. THE FATHER'S GUIDANCE. ' ' He shall convert my soul, and bring me forth in the paths of righteousness for His name's sake." DARED not trust my wayward will, I had no earthly .guide \ In doubt and bitter loneliness For help and strength I cried ; And Thou wert near, — an answer came To soothe my troubled breast ; I trusted in Thy worthy Name, And Thou hast brought me rest. I do not ask a smoother way, From thorns and dangers free ; It is enough if I retain My fellowship with Thee : I cannot wander while Thy hand So firmly claspeth mine, And through a dry and barren land Thy streams of mercy shine. Thy comforts have refreshed my soul, Thy sunshine gilds my way ; In weakness and in weariness Thy promise is my stay ; The Father's Guidance. 97 The secret sorrows of my heart To Thee are fully known ; Yea, though the joys of life depart I cannot feel alone. And if I toil while others dream And sow while others reap, teach me for Thy blessed sake To weep with those that weep ! Teach me in faith and lowliness Some loving word to say ; Or drop some little flower to bless The mourner's rugged way. The deeds that He would have me do Are wrought by love and prayer \ A world of lowly charities Awaits His servant's care ; 1 need not seek some high emprise, Or lofty work for God , While crowds of simple duties rise Like daisies from the sod. With gentle hand He leads me on \ — The shadows longer grow, And softly o'er " the hills of time " I feel the night-winds blow ; Why should I tremble, when I see That valley, hushed and dim ? His rod and staff shall comfort me, And I am safe with Him. 98 Psalms of Life. STORM AND CALM. " I was glad when they said unto me, We will go into the house of the Lord." 1 HE day had opened with a storm of showers, And winds awoke to greet that Sunday morn ; The garden-walks were strewn with broken flowers And scattered petals from the roses torn. Scarlet and gold and purple blossoms lay All drenched and deadened by the blinding rain ; I knew that when the tempest passed away, Their ruined beauty could not bloom again. Sometimes athwart the furrowed autumn slopes, A sea-gull, driven inland, flashed along; But all the fields were dark as blighted hopes, And all the woods were void of choral song. Vet as the day wore on, that leaden sky Showed rifts of silver gleaming here and there ; The loud wind sank into a sobbing sigh, And sweetly chimed the bells for evening prayer. Storm and Calm. 99 A stormy sunset, — and the wild red light Flushed the grey, ivied tower with crimson glow ; Long golden rays of glory, dazzling bright, Slanted across the mossy graves below. In the old church the solemn organ strain Like a deep voice through troubled bosoms thrilled ; Ah, who can tell what throbs of hidden pain Those blessed melodies have soothed and stilled ! How sweet the calm within His temple seemed After the tumult of that dreary day ! How tenderly the waning daylight beamed On lofty arch and ancient column grey ! Without — the misty landscape bathed in tears, The pale, wet blossoms clinging to the sod ; Within — the sacred harmony that cheers The Christian spirit with the peace of God ! Thus, Father, let us ever seek Thy rest In times of weariness and bitter woe ; Finding a shelter in Thy loving breast When grief has laid our brightest treasures low. Teach us by faith to lift our thoughts above The ruined joys that strew these earthly ways ; L T ntil we lose all sorrow in Thy love. And change our minor notes to songs of praise. too Psalms of Life. THE FOOLISH VIRGINS. 1 ' While the bridegroom tarried, they all slumbered and slept." *HEN will the Bridegroom come ? The birds are waking The budding forests from their long repose : And through dark clods, the tender snowdrop breaking, Her pallid bosom shows. O sisters, must our lamps be ever burning ? Our eyes are weary, and our hopes decline ; Long have we waited for the Lord's returning, And yet He sends no sign. Still onward glide the days : — a sound of sighing Makes mournful music in the boughs o'erhead ; And heaps of brown and amber leaves are lying About the path we tread. Why comes He not? O friends, His promise faileth ! Let us lie down awhile, and take our rest, Lulled by this melancholy wind that waileth Over earth's faded breast. The day has died away ; — our lamps grow dimmer, Fresh oil shall feed them when to-morrow's light Illumes the east; — and see. their feeble glimmer Will last throughout the night. The Foolish Virgins. 101 & Rest, sisters, for your eyes are slumber-laden, Why should ye pause awhile your lamps to trim ? The Bridegroom comes not yet; — each weary maiden May sleep, and dream of Him. Awake ! awake ! Through midnight stillness ringing Comes the sharp echo of that sudden cry ! Rise, virgins ; — hear the herald angels singing, "The Bridegroom draweth nigh." Ah, woe for us ! Our last faint sparks are dying, And nearer, nearer sounds that warning shout; O give us oil, — sweet sisters, hear our crying — Help, for our lamps go out ! Hear us, the sadness of your glance appalleth ! O friends, have ye not known and loved us well ? Like drops of icy rain that answer falleth — " Go ye to them that sell." The door is shut ; — yet He is full of kindness, His tender love will pardon human sin : The Bridegroom hath compassion on our blindness, And He will let us in. Lord, open unto us ; — O King, receive us, Our deep unworthiness and guilt we own ; Thou art so merciful, .Thou wilt not leave us In this dark night alone. He speaks, — that solemn voice so calm and holy, Its tone of ancient pity hath forgot ; Upon our souls the awful truth dawns slowly, — Lost — -for He knows us not ! 102 Psalms of Life. TEE BAPTISM OF SUFFERING. Beloved, think it not strange concerning the fiery trial which is to try you, as though some strange thing happened unto you : "But rejoice, inasmuch as ye are partakers of Christ's suffer- ings ; that, when His glory shall be revealed, ye may be glad also with exceeding joy." ^f* F thou hast known some parting worse than death, The breaking of a tie that was thine all ; A pang that left thee hopeless, — when thy breath Came slowly, and thy tears refused to fall ; Come in thy bitterness and gloom, and see The moonlit Garden where He wept for thee. If thou art stricken for His blessed sake Who bare for thee the scourge's cruel sting, Rejoice, thy Lord hath called thee to partake Of His own baptism of suffering ; Low in that olive-shade He bowed for thee ; Bear on — remembering Gethsem me. Bear on — for He hath loved thee, and thy tears Shall change to gems, and glitter on thy brow In the calm light of the eternal years ; And thy worn soul, so chafed and fettered now, Shall know the freedom that He won for thee In the lone shadows of Gethsem me. !03 CONFIRMATION HYMN. " I will pay my vows unto the Lord, in the sight of all His people, in the courts of the Lord's house." ^^^^/OME in all reverence and deep contri- tion, Subdued by memories of youthful sin, Kneel at His throne in lowliest sub- mission, And with this day the better life begin. Comewith sweet thoughts of Jesus, and in meekness Take up the cross, and follow in His way ; His strength shall be made perfect in your weakness, His grace shall be your comfort and your stay. Renew your vows, — and seek His mercy only, To arm the trembling spirit for the strife ; Ye shall not fight the world's great battle lonely, Soldiers of Christ, ye bear a charmed life. Come, and the Holy Dove each promise sealing Shall fill your hearts and minds with pure desire ; Yea, while ye kneel, in humble prayer appealing, His gifts descend like Pentecostal fire. And ever when the sacred rite is ended, Ye will have need of Jesus on your way ; Need of His love and watchful guidance blended, To keep the precious strength ye gain to-day. Tender and clear as stars at even burning In dusky winter skies from east to west, So shall ye shine, — that all, your light discerning, May long to share that brightness calm and blest. 104 Psalms of Life. SUNDA Y MORNING H YMN. "The voice of praise and thanksgiving among such as keep holy day." AY of holy recollections, Memories of praise and prayer, Stirring all our deep affections, Hushing thoughts of worldly care ; Coming like the breath of summer Stealing over wintry lands, Lifting up the weary spirit, Strengthening the feeble hands. Day of peace — such depths revealing Of the love of Christ our King \ Day of rest — what balm of healing Can thy hallowed moments bring ! Foretaste of the bliss eternal That His ransomed ones shall know, Blessed gift of consolation To His waiting church below. In Thy sunlight seeing clearer Glimpses of the land of love, By Thy worship drawing nearer To the sinless souls above, Sunday Morning Hymn. 105 Purified and soothed, and raised From earth's sordid mire and clay, Evermore our hearts adore Thee For Thy hallowed seventh day ! We Thy pilgrims, fainting, fasting, Seek of Thee Thy living bread ; By Thy bounty everlasting Let the gracious food be spread ; Fill the chalice of salvation From that crimson Fount of Thine ; Clothe us in the marriage-garment Ere we taste the feast divine. From these blessed hours we borrow Music that shall linger long, And the labours of to-morrow Shall be cheered by holy song ; Followed still by chanting voices, We may tread life's rugged way, Ever in our hearts repeating Anthems that we sing to-day. Alleluia ! Lord of heaven, Throned in Triune majesty ! On this day of all the seven Sweetest hymns shall rise to Thee 1 Alleluia ! King of glory, Giver of all gifts of grace, Let our humble praise ascending, Reach Thee in Thy holy place. H io6 Psalms of Life. *S UNDA Y E VENING HYMN. 11 Have I not remembered Thee in my bed, and thought upon Thee when I was waking ? " OW that our holy day is done, Our day so blest and bright, Lord, for the sake of Thy dear Son, Vouchsafe us rest to-night. Put thoughts of worldly strife aside, Let love and faith increase ; Grant us, on this calm eventide, Thine own best gift of peace. Faint echoes of our sacred songs Shall haunt each weary brain, Even in sleep the heart prolongs Our holy Sabbath strain. And in our busy waking hours, O Father, still we pray, Let music from immortal bowers Lighten the toils of day. Send down through all the jars of time Some undertone of love, A message from Thy sinless clime Of perfect bliss above. Sunday Evening Hymn. 107 Such songs shall help us to endure The world's discordant strife, And keep our spirits calm and pure Amid the cares of life. Until this earthly conflict cease, Lord, let us faithful be ; Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace Whose mind is stayed on Thee. io8 Psalms of Life. ALLELUIA. " Ye are come unto Mount Sion, and unto the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem, and to an innumerable company of angels." &v^> AND of peace, and love, and brightness, Earthly spirits pine for thee ! Longing for those blessed regions Where all fettered hearts are free ; Alleluia, Alleluia ! Sing Thy white-robed company. Endless glory shineth in thee, Eor thy sun can never wane ; On thy gleaming, golden pavement, Walk the holy angel train ; Alleluia, Alleluia ! Rolls the everlasting strain. Golden harps and saintly voices All their hallowed music pour; While thy ransomed sons and daughters Their Redeemer's name adore ; Alleluia, Alleluia ! Sing thy children evermore. Alleluia. 109 With the deep harmonious anthem Blends no mournful minor tone, To the citizens of heaven Sighs and tears are never known ; Alleluia, Alleluia ! Echoes round the great White Throne. Lead us, O thou gentle Saviour, Upward to that holy place ; Washed, and ransomed, and forgiven By Thy wondrous work of grace ; Alleluia, Alleluia ! We shall sing before Thy face. 1 10 Psalms of Life. HYMN. ' ' He shall see of the travail of His soul, and shall be satisfied. " EART of Jesus, pierced for me, Let my heart find rest in Thee ; Stream of pardon — tide of grace, Purge away each sinful trace ; Let that flood celestial, flow Till my soul is white as snow. Riven Heart, O let me be Sheltered, cleansed, and blest in Thee ! Arms of Jesus, stretched for me On the Cross in agony, Fold me in a sure embrace, Hold me by the might of grace, Make me steadfast in the fight, Keep me from all false delight ; Clasp me close, until I stand Safe within the better land. Voice of Jesus, once for me Raised in tones of misery, When the bitter cry went up, "Father, take away this cup !" Hymn. 1 1 1 Soothe me in my dark distress, Warn me in my heedlessness \ Plead for me, Voice divine, Blend my feeble prayers with Thine. Love of Jesus, set on me, Seeing all that was to be, Knowing all the shame and scorn That should meet the Virgin-born ; Love, that never sank or failed When the powers of sin prevailed — Fill my heart, — and let me be Satisfied alone with Thee. U2 Psalms of Life. HYMN. " Sing ye praises with understanding." OR all Thy care we bless Thee, O Father, God of might ! For golden hours of morning, And quiet hours of night : Thine is the arm that shields us When danger threatens nigh, And Thine the hand that yields us Rich gifts of earth and sky. For all Thy love we bless Thee ; No mortal lips can speak Thy comfort to the weary, Thy pity for the weak : By Thee life's path is brightened With sunshine and with song ; The heavy loads are lightened, The feeble hearts made strong. For all Thy peace we bless Thee, That peace that spreads so wide ; The gracious benediction That falls upon Thy Bride ; For quiet meditation In days of prayer and fast, For holy jubilation When Lenten shades are past. Hymn. i r For all Thy grace we bless Thee, That grace so full and free ; The banquet of salvation So richly spread by Thee ; When soul and body falter, And faith hath languid grown, We know " we have an Altar " Where Thou wilt meet Thine own. For all Thy truth we bless Thee ; Our human vows are frail, But through the strife of ages Thy word can never fail : The kingdoms shall be broken, The mighty ones will fall, The promise Thou hast spoken Shall triumph over all. For all Thy saints we bless Thee, Our dearest ones who trod The dark and thorny pathway That led them home to God ; For all who follow slowly The Master's toilsome way, The brave, the pure, the lowly, Who strive, and watch, and pray. For Thine own Church we bless Thee, Thy Spouse, our Mother dear ; O grant her strength and wisdom To keep her vigil here ! 1 14 Psalms of Life. The watch is sad and weary, The Bridegroom tarries long ; But soon her " Miserere " Shall change to festal song ! O teach us how to praise Thee, And touch our lips with fire ! Yea, let Thy Dove descending, Our hearts and minds inspire ; Thus toiling, watching, singing, We tread our desert way, And every hour is bringing Nearer, the dawn of day. 1 1 1 HYMNS FOR CHILDREN. I. The vineyard which Thy right hand hath planted. ^E hath gone into His garden Jk To cull His flowerets fair ; M And many a tender blossom ^ Is blooming sweetly there. He feeds among the lilies, He banquets on the vine ; He sends the soft south breezes, And bids His sunlight shine. Are we within that garden ? Are we among that band, The flowers of His affection That bloom beneath His hand ? Lord Jesus, there enclose us, And let us thrive and grow ; The fruit of Thy fair vineyard, Thy lilies white as snow. He hath gone into His garden, His sacred walls enclose The cedar and the sapling, The rose-bud and the rose : i 1 6 Psalms of Life. And not a bud can perish, And not a leaf can fall Within the Saviour's garden, Because He loveth all. He numbers all His blossoms ; The smallest flowers must be As precious to the Master As palm or cedar tree ; With watchful care He seeks them, In noontide or in shade ; And silver showers fall softly To freshen those that fade. He comes to gather lilies ; We may not know the hour That makes some earthly blossom A bright immortal flowej : Then, Lord, may we be ready And waiting for Thy hand, That we may bloom in glory In Thine eternal land. 1 1 HYMNS FOR CHILDREN. II. 1 A garden enclosed is my sister, my spouse." N Thy holy garden ground, Jesus, let us all be found ; Bid that soft south wind of Thine Breathe upon the tender vine, Let Thine angel-guards, we pray, Scare the hungry birds away : Watch the soil where Thou hast sown, Till Thy precious plants are grown. Touched by Thine all-powerful hand Let the little buds expand ; Bid the folded leaves unveil Fragrant blossoms fair and pale ; Master, may Thy lilies grow White and pure as driven snow, Let Thy gracious dew and rain Cleanse the flowers from earthly stain. In Thy holy garden ground If one drooping bough be found, Spare the life which Thou didst give, Bid the dying member live ; 1 1 8 Psalms of Life. Lift it from the miry sod Nearer to the skies of God, Till it flourish, strong and free, In its beauty praising Thee. Fence Thy holy garden ground From the wilderness around ; Chase the serpent from its bowers, Guard Thine own beloved flowers ; Let no tainted breath creep in From the poisoned haunts of sin ; Keep them from the world apart, Make them pure, as pure Thou art. 119 HOL Y COMMUNION,— HYMN I. " Verily, verily, I say unto you, Except ye eat the flesh of the Son of man, and drink His blood, ye have no life in you." COMFORTER divine, Come to this heart of mine, Come and prepare my dear Re- deemer's dwelling ; From Thy white wings outspread, Let hope and peace be shed, All vain and troubled thoughts and cares expelling. Show me each secret sin That lies so deep within, Stifling with poisoned breath all pure emotion ; Let sighs of earnest prayer Clear all the tainted air, Till it grows odorous with true devotion. Jesus, I humbly pray, Enter my soul to-day, In Bread and Wine Thyself to me revealing ; Lord, make me all Thine own, Filled with Thy love alone, Dead to the world and every sinful feeling. i 20 Psalms of Life. Jesus, I humbly pray That Thou wilt take away The earth-born mists wherewith my faith is shrouded ; Here let me see Thy face, In this Thy dwelling-place ; Shine on me, Saviour, in Thy light unclouded. Come, Jesus, and restore Each waning grace once more, And let me taste Thee in the cup of blessing ; Pour from Thy heart to mine Thy precious blood divine ; Let me go hence, the Life of life possessing. Feed me with living bread, Let me be comforted With the eternal food that cannot perish ; And when the Feast is done, Rest with me, Holy One, And teach me how Thy heavenly grace to cherish. 12 I HOL Y COMMUNION,— HYMN II "Labour not for the meat which perisheth, but for that meat which endureth unto everlasting life, which the Son of man shall give unto you : for Him hath God the Father sealed." down thy burden for a little space, And taste the fulness of thy Saviour's grace ; Come, for this Feast supplies thy deepest need, His Flesh and Blood are meat and drink indeed. Here, from thy dear Redeemer's heart to thine Flows the life-giving stream in crimson wine : Here in the bread, thy hungry soul may take His sacred Body, given for thy sake. Filled with His strength, thy spirit shall be strong To fight against the foes that do thee wrong ; A purer Life within thy life shall lie, Giving thee grace to win the victory. This heavenly food shall help thee to sustain Life's weary load of bitterness and pain ; The precious banquet He prepares to-day, Keeps thee from fainting in the narrow way. i 122 Psalms of Life. Come, thirsty soul, the cup is never dry, His blood still flows this chalice to supply ; Come, famished heart, behold His table spread ! Himself the Feast, the everlasting Bread. Come, and thy doubts and fears shall aU subside In the dear presence of the Crucified \ Come, and the company of heaven above Shall join thee in this mystery of love. With angels and archangels thou shalt feel The joy that only Jesus can reveal ; With angels and archangels thou shalt raise The Eucharistic strain of fervent praise. HOI Y COMMUNION.— HYMN III " Ask, and it shall be given you ; seek, and ye shall find." wS0 HINE through the mists of earth to-day, JSi^L O f ace °f Christ, unchanged, divine ! ^^^^m Meet me at Thme own feast, I pray, Q^wJjJ Draw near, O soul of Christ, to mine ! Once Thou wert bruised for my sake, O living Manna from on high ! Grant me with humble heart to take The food that still can satisfy. O Rock of Israel ! smitten sore Once in the wilderness for me ; Here would I drink, and thirst no more, Of that pure tide that flowed from Thee. *And still that blended stream imparts Its precious power to heal and bless ; The Blood, to pardon contrite hearts, The Water, bringing holiness. # "As the Blood which He shed satisfied the Divine Justice, and removed our punishment, so the water washes and cleanses the pardoned soul ; and both these blessings are inseparable, even as the Blood and water which flowed to- gether out of His side." — John and Charles Wesley. 124 Psalms of Life. Pardon and purity I need To cleanse me from my sinful stain, Lord Jesus, teach me how to plead, And let no cry ascend in vain. In lowly penitence I seek The grace and strength that in Thee dwell ; My faith is faint, my prayers are weak, But all my want Thou knowest well. Thine is the glory, mine the night, Mine is the strife, and Thine the rest ; Shine on my darkness, Light of light, And lead the weary to Thy breast. I2 : II AR VEST HYMN.— I tl Be thankful unto Him, and speak good of His name. ^RAISE to the Father, praise For blessings freely poured ; Praise for the golden harvest days, And garners richly stored. Praise Him for all His care, For love that cannot cease ; For joys that rich and poor may share, For plenty and for peace. Praise to the Hand that made The valleys thick with corn ; From breezy hill and quiet glade The grateful strains are borne. But let a deeper tone With all our anthems blend ; Not for these earthly gifts alone Should songs of praise ascend ; Praise for the living Bread Descended from above ; Lord, let our empty souls be fed At Thy great feast of love ! 126 Psalms of Life. Christ, for Thy Church's sake, Thy Body Thou didst give ; O grant us grace Thy bread to take, That we may eat and live. Enter each heart, we pray, Supply our deepest need ; And make Thy sacred Flesh to-day Our Bread of life indeed ! 127 HARVEST HYMN.— II. '■ Yea, a joyful and pleasant thing it is to be thankful." ORD of the golden harvest, To Thee our songs we raise ; With endless adoration We offer grateful praise. Again our barns are teeming With piles of ripened sheaves ; Again the mellow Autumn Her fruitful garland weaves. From purple-crested mountains, From valleys green and low, The strains of high thanksgiving From happy hearts shall flow ; And joyful choirs shall praise Thee Within Thy holy walls, While like the dew from heaven Thy benediction falls. O Thou whose love hath given These bounties of Thy grace, Come to the hearts that seek Thee, In this Thy dwelling-place. 128 Psalms of Life. Let hungry souls be strengthened To bear earth's weary strife, With Bread so freely broken, And Wine of deathless life. Watch Thou Thy faithful children In this wide 'world of care, For seeds of life eternal The soil Thyself prepare ; The good grain sown in weakness Upraised in power shall be, The sowers and the reapers Shall yet rejoice with Thee. O God of life and glory, In that triumphal day When all Thy wheat is gathered, And tares are swept away \ Within Thy blessed garner May we be safely stored, The fruits of Christ's redemption, The harvest of the Lord ! To Father, Son, and Spirit, Our thankful songs are due, We magnify and bless Thee, With love and homage true ; Our everlasting gladness From Thy great mercy springs, Lord of the golden harvest, We hail Thee, King of kings ! J. AND W. RIDER, PRINTERS, LONDON. HHfiH roam imsaHraa hSsb HP El ■■■.'.■■'•••,■».;.• ■IB* ii I I m I I i B HMfi^