-* 
 
 FROM THE LIBRARY OF 
 
 REV. LOUIS FITZGERALD BENSON. D. D. 
 
 BEQUEATHED BY HIM TO 
 
 THE LIBRARY OF 
 
 PRINCETON THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY 
 
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■ n R :: 5 1933 
 
 APR 2 > 193 
 
 I i BMFE: , 
 
 OR, 
 
 THE ARK OF THE COVENANT; 
 
 AND 
 
 OTHER POEMS, 
 
 WILLIAM NEWTON, D. D., 
 
 Pastor of the R. E. Church of the Sure Foundation, 
 
 West Chester, Pa. 
 
 PHILADELPHIA: 
 
 Reformed Episcopal Publication Society (Limited), 
 
 No. 1604 Chestnut Street.^ 
 
 1888. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 9- 
 
 10. 
 
 ii. 
 
 12. 
 
 13- 
 
 14. 
 
 16. 
 
 18. 
 19. 
 
 The Ark of the Covenant, 
 The Blind Weaver, . 
 
 The Rainbow, 
 
 Letter to a Young Scientist ; or, How 
 
 the Trout Swallowed the Barbel, 
 Sowing Beside All Waters, 
 Daily Blessings, .... 
 Letter from Miss Kate — 
 
 aeout the Darwinian Theory, 
 A Lesson of Faith, 
 Apple Blossoms, .... 
 The Day of the Lord, 
 Wait Aweel, and Dinna Weary, . 
 The Circle of Blessings, 
 
 Waiting, 
 
 The Evening Primrose. A Parable, 
 Intimations, .... 
 
 The Lilies of the Field, 
 The Source of Fullness. A Parable 
 My Hyacinth, .... 
 Silent Sympathy, 
 
 Page 
 
 9 
 
 65 
 
 67 
 
 70 
 
 77 
 78 
 
 80 
 88 
 89 
 
 9i 
 94 
 
 95 
 98 
 
 99 
 102 
 
 i°5 
 
 109 
 
 114 
 117 
 
6 CONTENTS 
 
 Page 
 
 20. The Lesson of a Weed. A Parable, . 118 
 
 21. We Love Him, Because He First 
 
 Loved Us, 122 
 
 22. The Connecticut Farmer's Protest 
 
 against the mummeries of ritualism, i 24 
 
 23. As the Father Hath Loved Me, so 
 
 Have I Loved You, . . . .128 
 
 24. The Inner Nature Revealing Itself. 
 
 A Parable, 131 
 
 25. Communion, 136 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 Go, Little Book ! Amid the strife 
 
 And bustle of this restless age ; 
 Speak lovingly the words of Life 
 
 To all who pause to note thy page ! 
 In unobtrusive ministry, 
 Be it thy silent work, to be 
 To them what thou hast been to me. 
 Gently as comes the evening dew 
 
 Distilling on the fainting flower, 
 Be it thy mission to renew, 
 
 In drooping souls, the secret power 
 That thrills the spirit when the light 
 Of God's own Truth dispels the night. 
 Let in the sunshine. Paint the clouds, 
 
 With rainbow beauty from above ; 
 And bid the darkness that enshrouds 
 
 Their lives, catch the first light of Love, 
 
 As, rising sunlike on the soul, 
 
 It tells of Him who makes us whole ! 
 
 W. N. 
 West Chester, Pa., October 23d, 1888. 
 
THE ARK OF THE COVENANT. 
 
 A Fragment. 
 
 ****** 
 
 * * * * * 
 
 * * ■* * * * 
 
 * * * * * 
 
 The Ark and the Mercy-Seat now, are no 
 more ; 
 The light has gone up from the Cheru- 
 bim there ; 
 The work of the priesthood of Aaron is 
 o'er, 
 And the site of its glories is lonely and 
 bare, 
 But the truths which they figured, Oh ! 
 these shall abide, 
 Unchanging and bright, as the Sun in 
 his place. 
 For Christ is the body, through whom are 
 supplied, 
 The Life and the Soul of these symbols 
 of grace ! 
 
IO THE ARK OF 
 
 I. 
 
 The Sun's declining rays were shed, 
 In fading light on Sinai's head ; 
 As Israel in their tents abode, 
 Around the Symbol House of God. 
 Moses the Sacred Building rears : 
 
 And as the Structure stands complete, 
 The Pillar of the Cloud appears 
 
 To mark it for its purpose meet ! 
 A Pillar ! For its base is spread 
 
 Above the camp ; and resting there, 
 It toweringly lifts up its head 
 
 Into the fields of upper air ! 
 Compact and firm, it seems to stand 
 As granite shaft, on solid land. 
 And yet a Cloud ! As light as those, 
 
 On which, as sinking in the West, 
 The parting Sun its splendor throws 
 
 In beauty on their radiant breast ! 
 Each tribe in its own place, appeared ; 
 And each, its separate standard reared. 
 Each moved or halted, as the sign 
 Above them, spake the will divine. 
 Eastward, the camp of Judah lay ;* 
 
 *Num. ii : 2. 
 
THE COVENANT. II 
 
 Reuben upon the South,* held sway; 
 Ephraim upon the West,f commands ; 
 While Northward,! Dan arrays his bands, 
 Above the Tabernacle, rose 
 
 The Pillar of the Cloud ; by day 
 A shield : to guard them from their foes ; 
 
 A Guide : to lead them on their way; 
 And 'neath its calm and heavenly light, 
 They rested through the hours of night ! 
 
 II. 
 
 This from without ; but all within 
 
 Was veiled from mortal view. 
 Aaron alone might enter in 
 
 These " figures of the True." 
 He comes to the Most Holy Place, 
 To symbolize His work of grace 
 
 Whose Blood can cleanse from sin. 
 See ! how with reverent steps and slow, 
 And mitred forehead, bending low 
 
 He calmly enters in ! 
 How grand, how glorious is the sight, 
 
 That bursts upon his eye ! 
 There's not a ray of earthly light 
 
 * Num. ii : 3. f Num. ii : 10. % Num. ii : 25. 
 
12 THE ARK OF 
 
 For mortals to descry ; 
 No burning lamp ; no Sun's bright ray ; 
 
 And yet, serene and fair, 
 One sacred, high and cloudless day 
 Reigns in full splendor there ! 
 'Tis the Shechinah's glorious light 
 
 Between the Cherubim ; 
 Unveiling thus to mortal sight, 
 
 The blessedness of Him 
 Who took our frame and flesh, to be 
 The Manifested Deity ; 
 And bring the ransomed of our race, 
 To dwell in light before His face ! 
 
 III. 
 
 But now the cloud is rising. See ! 
 
 With what a stately grace 
 It takes its course ; and silently 
 
 Moves from its resting-place ! 
 Oh ! many a heart, with joy, beats high ; 
 And gladness beams in many an eye, 
 
 As thus, before their sight, 
 Their heavenly Guide leads on the way ; 
 And shows them, where to march by day, 
 
 And where to rest by night ! 
 
THE COVENANT. 13 
 
 It moves ! And everywhere you see 
 The camp in motion. Reverently, 
 
 The sons of Aaron spread 
 The Covering Veil upon the Ark :* 
 
 The hosts are in their order led ; 
 And Judah marches first. But, hark ! 
 The Silver Trumpets' grateful sound 
 Is heard through all the camp around. 
 And as their notes, now low, now high, 
 
 Peal through the air, serene and clear ; 
 Their Leader's voice, melodiously 
 
 Falls on expectant Israel's ear! 
 
 Rise up, O Lord rf* in Thy dread robe of 
 splendor! 
 Make all Thy foes flee, like shadows 
 away ; 
 But be to Thy chosen, a Guard and De- 
 fender — 
 A Shield in the contest : a Guide for the 
 
 way ! 
 
 IV. 
 
 And thus they journey. J Wheresoe'er 
 The cloud pursues its way, 
 
 * Num. iv : 5. f Num. x : 35. \ Num. ix : 16-23 
 
14 
 
 THE ARK OF 
 
 They go, without one thought of fear ; 
 
 And where it rests, they stay ; 
 Alike where Eiim's palm-trees grow, 
 Or Marah's bitter waters flow. 
 And, as they rest, their Leader's prayer 
 Sounds out again upon the air : 
 Return, once again* to Thy chosen, return ; 
 
 And cause them to rest 'neath the wings 
 of Thy Love ; 
 Let the Cloud in its glory above them still 
 burn ; 
 
 And the Light that directs them be Light 
 from above ! 
 
 And as we read the record o'er, 
 
 We find new beauties to explore ; 
 New views of Truth ; which, pearl- like, lie 
 
 Dim and unnoticed, till the light 
 From some new angle meets the eye, 
 
 And gives its colors to the sight ! 
 
 V. 
 
 And thus the eye of Faith — though we 
 May not the hand that guides us, see — 
 Yet thus the eye of Faith discerns 
 
 * Num. x : 36, 
 
THE C O VENA N 7 . 
 
 15 
 
 A real guidance. And it turns, 
 
 As turns the glass, to sweep the sky ; 
 
 And, bringing heavenly objects near, 
 Places them full before the eye, 
 
 In star-like beauty calm and clear ! 
 Art thou a Christian ? Then, where'er 
 
 Thy pathway opens, Go ! 
 Thou need' st not have one thought of fear, 
 
 Or dread the strongest foe. 
 Unseen thy Saviour journeys near ; 
 
 And when thou dost not know, 
 He'll make each tangled question clear — 
 
 And doubts to knowledge grow ! 
 Clouds may surround thee ? Still ; the Sun 
 
 Lies back of them. They only hide 
 Its brightness till their work is done ; 
 
 When, all forever put aside, 
 They'll cast their shade and darkness o'er 
 The landscape of thy life no more ! 
 
 ****** 
 
 The flower must have the light of day ; 
 And, as it drinks the Sun's bright ray, 
 It gives it back a little while 
 In its sweet breath and beauteous smile. 
 But, when God's hand prepares the gem, 
 That sparkles in the diadem ; 
 
j6 the ark of 
 
 It is not in the gairish day, 
 
 Where sunbeams flash, and dewdrops play, 
 
 He calls its splendors into birth. 
 
 But in the darkest caves of earth. 
 
 Slowly He forms it — and His year 
 
 Counts ages for a single day — 
 And nations rise and disappear ; 
 
 And empires flourish and decay ; 
 While, far down in earth's deepest mine, 
 
 God's Hand prepares the brilliant gem, 
 In its resplendent light to shine. 
 
 So, when to grace His diadem, 
 He seeks His jewels to prepare ; 
 
 How long He seems in trouble's night, 
 To thrust them from His love and care ; 
 
 And all their fondest schemes to blight ! 
 Does He forget them ? No ! They lie 
 Clearly defined before His eye. 
 He is but seeking to fulfill 
 The purpose of His gracious will ; 
 That purpose is, in light divine, 
 
 To set them all before His face ; 
 In the Redeemer's Crown to shine, — • 
 
 God's brilliant Koh-i-noors of Grace ! 
 
THE COVENANT 
 
 VI. 
 
 l 7 
 
 We change the aspect of our theme. 
 For Israel now, by Jordan's stream, 
 
 Looks out with wondering eyes ! 
 Judea's Palm groves, far away, 
 Their rich magnificence display ; 
 
 Judea's mountains rise — 
 Carmel and Lebanon are there ; 
 Dispensing perfume on the air, 
 
 And beauty to the sight. 
 While Sinai, Tabor, Hermon, too, 
 Their towering summits lift to view, 
 
 As carved against the light ! 
 Stretching in open space between, 
 The ripening harvests, on the scene 
 
 Their gentler beauty throw ; 
 While hill and vale, and fertile plains 
 Tell of a land where plenty reigns, 
 
 And milk and honey flow ! 
 
 But Jordan — swollen to full height — * 
 Rolls down before them in its might, 
 No bridge, no boat, no raft, is there ! 
 How shall they cross it ? Everywhere, 
 
 * Josh, iii: 15. 
 
18 THE ARK OF 
 
 Throughout the host, this question's heard ! 
 And still there comes no answering word! 
 
 The fourth day rises, calm and clear. 
 And now, what words are these we hear ? 
 Assume that we are present ! Hark ? 
 'Tis the command, Take up the Ark y 
 And pass ye over ! Tremblingly, 
 
 The priests obey ; and from its place 
 Taking the Ark, move silently, 
 
 With the two thousand cubits space* 
 Between it and the host. With slow 
 And firm and thoughtful steps they go. 
 Their s not to reason of the way, 
 But simply God's command obey. 
 His is the woi'k, His to provide 
 Their safety from the threat'ning tide, 
 How anxiously their course is scanned. 
 How earnestly the little band 
 That bears the Ark, the burden shares 
 Of Israel's hopes and Israel's prayers ! 
 Onward they move, nor turn aside 
 From human fear or human pride ; 
 Right onward to the Jordan's brink, 
 
 Josh. 
 
THE COVE X A X /'. 
 
 19 
 
 They press, they falter not, nor shrink ; 
 Though the next step will bring their feet, 
 Its dark and swollen waves to meet ! 
 There was no sound — no spoken word — 
 Yet, from the presence of the Lord, 
 
 Backward the waters fly. 
 In his full flush of swollen pride, 
 And seeking where his waves to hide ; 
 
 While Israel's God is nigh ; 
 Jordan sweeps backward from his banks, 
 And leaves to Israel's awe- struck ranks, 
 
 A clear and open way ! 
 With reverent air and solemn tread 
 The priests march through the river's bed, 
 
 And pausing there, delay, 
 Till all their tribes in safety stand, 
 Marshal'd on Canaan's promised Land ! 
 
 VII. 
 
 It was a glorious sight. Below, 
 The severed waters onward flow. 
 Above, they rage ; and wildly toss 
 Their arms on high, but cannot cross 
 The line drawn by Jehovah's hand. 
 That wall of waters. See them stand 
 Piled up on heaps that seethe and glow ; 
 
20 
 
 THE ARK OF 
 
 Yet powerless, ere He gives command, 
 
 To take their place below ! 
 Meanwhile the tribes with martial tread, 
 With bands arrayed and standard spread, 
 Cross safely. What have they to dread ? 
 
 For while the Ark its place retains, 
 They who are on the Jordan's bed, 
 
 Are safe as those on Canaan's plain ! 
 The Ark's their safety. While it tells 
 
 Their gracious God is near ; 
 Vainly against them Jordan swells, 
 Or ambushed foes draw near ! 
 * *. * * * 1 
 
 Between the cradle and the grave, 
 There's many a Jordan spreads its wave ; 
 Whose dark and angry waters roll 
 And press to overwhelm the soul ? 
 It sometimes seems to mortal eyes, 
 
 God fails His promise to redeem ; 
 And all of peace and safety lies 
 
 The other side of Duty's stream. 
 What shall we do ? Press calmly on ! 
 Thousands before us thus have gone ; 
 
 And all unite to say, 
 That, as their feet sank in the tide, 
 Either its swollen waves divide 
 
THE COVENANT, 21 
 
 To furnish them a way ; 
 Or Jesus, by their side, hath stood, 
 To make His word of promise good. 
 
 Oh ! think you a mother forgetful can prove, 
 Oi the babe she has nourished? Yes, 
 she may forget ! 
 But, to reach to the depths of my Covenant 
 Love, 
 There never was measure or line for it 
 yet ! 
 
 The Jordan of trial your path may o'erflow ; 
 
 The floods of deep waters about you may 
 
 roll; 
 
 But fear not to tread where I call you to go, 
 
 For the Word of my Truth is the staff 
 
 of your soul ! 
 
 My promise I never will fail to redeem ; 
 Go down to the waters ; I'll meet with 
 you there, 
 The Ark of My Presence shall turn back 
 the stream, 
 Or else, o'er its billows in safety, I'll 
 bear ! • 
 
22 THE ARK OF 
 
 And thus like Moses, with the Land 
 
 Of Promise, spread before his eye ; 
 I've seen the dying Christian stand,* 
 
 While Faith brought heavenly objects 
 nigh. 
 How sweet the vision it displays 
 In living light before his gaze ! 
 How calm the trust, how strong the tone, 
 That calls the promises his own ; 
 And as he nears the swelling flood, 
 Expects to see them all made good ! 
 Well I remember one, who died, 
 Thus, in the bloom of maiden pride ! 
 She passed, not suddenly away, 
 But lingered, in a slow decay. 
 Her hope was like the Evening Star, 
 
 Which — rising with the setting Sun — 
 Shines out more brightly from afar, 
 
 The nearer that the day is done. 
 
 * I was younger then than now; and really believed that 
 Canaan was a type of Heaven. 
 
 Of course, a very beautiful picture can be made out of this 
 figure — while we manage to overlook the facts of the case ! For 
 the truth is, that Israel's fighting days commenced with the pas- 
 sage of the river. And, for myself, I must be allowed to hope, 
 that I shall find my Canaanites this side the Flood. I long for 
 " Sweet rest in Heaven /" 
 
THE COVENANT. 23 
 
 How clear and radiant was the light, 
 With which it shone upon our sight, 
 And its bright beamings in her eye, 
 Assured us, Jesus still was nigh ; 
 And one might e'en expect to hear 
 Angelic music stealing near ! 
 In Jordan's midst, she seemed to stand, 
 And view, by faith, the Promised Land ; 
 And thus she calmly passed away, 
 
 As fades the sunbeam in the West ; 
 And, closing thus, her life's brief day, 
 
 Sleeps, sweetly, on her Saviour's breast ! 
 
 VIII. 
 
 And now, the hosts of Israel stand, 
 Safely within the Promised Land ! 
 At length, their feet are on the sod, 
 First given them by their father's God. 
 Its Title stands in sovereign grace ; 
 But they, themselves, must win their place, 
 By conquest o'er the evil there ! 
 
24 THE ARK OF 
 
 Before them, tall, erect and fair, 
 The groves of Palm-trees, on the air, 
 
 Their gentle fragrance throw ; 
 While nestling 'neath their lofty crest, 
 Strong walls and towers and dwellings rest, 
 
 And royal splendor show. 
 Far off, the haze-clad mountains rise ; 
 And rippling streams bear rich supplies, 
 
 To fields in verdure dress'd : 
 And Canaan, to their wondering eyes, 
 
 Displays the Promised Rest ! 
 The City of the Palm-trees there 
 Bursts on their vision, strong and fair, 
 Claiming amidst them all, to stand, 
 First of the cities of the Land; 
 Serene and strong, she seems to rest 
 A sparkling Gem on Canaan's breast ! 
 
 A strange report is on the air ; 
 And now, the bravest warriors there, 
 Throng her broad walls, with eager eye, 
 The wondrous pageant to descry ! 
 Is that the Man, of Israel's God, 
 Before whose wonder-working rod 
 The Red Sea shrunk away? 
 
THE COVENANT, 25 
 
 Are those the men before whose stride 
 Jordan rolled back in sullen pride 
 
 To yield them open way ? 
 What means this strange procession ? See ! 
 
 There's neither sword nor spear, 
 Nor banner spread for victory, 
 
 Nor martial engine here ! 
 With stately step and measured tread, 
 In serried ranks, with bending head, 
 
 Around the walls they go. 
 No sound is breathed upon the air 
 From all the thousands marching there 
 
 Before the wondering foe ! 
 In silence, each his station takes ; 
 In silence, each the circuit makes ; 
 And all, by One o'erpowering will, 
 Are held in their obedience still ! 
 Six days behold the host, repeat 
 
 What seems unmeaning show. 
 And, as the seventh day dawns, the feat 
 
 Is once more acted, to the slow 
 And measured tread of thousands. See ! 
 With trumpets of the Jubilee* 
 
 * The words in the Hebrew are Shoperoth Yobelim — trum- 
 pets of Jubilees. The name in the text refers to the form of 
 the trumpets. 
 
2 6 THE ARK 01* 
 
 Seven priests their station take 
 Before the Ark ; and reverently 
 The vast procession moves ! Its way 
 Is pointed from above ; and they 
 Once more the strange command obey ; 
 
 Once more the circuit make 
 Of the fair city lying there, 
 
 Unconscious of the gloom, 
 Which, as that circle narrower grows, 
 Still in increasing darkness, throws 
 
 The shadow of its doom ! 
 Six times, in silence deep and dread, 
 With solemn air and martial tread ; 
 Each man, with sword upon his thigh ; 
 Each camp, with standard lifted high ;* 
 
 The host, its march renews ; 
 And the doomed city, wonderingly, 
 
 The strange procession views ! 
 But, when the priests their trumpets blew, 
 
 And the last circuit close, 
 The mighty host its meaning knew — 
 
 And such a shout arose, 
 As if the unseen powers of air 
 Had marshaled all their forces there 
 
 * There were four camps, with three tribes in each, Num. ii : 3. 
 
THE COVENANT, 27 
 
 To hurl on Israel's foes. 
 Untouched by stroke from human hand, 
 The fairest city of the land 
 
 Before its captors falls ; 
 And Israel, turning in their ranks, 
 March up its flower-embroidered banks, 
 
 And o'er its prostrate walls ! 
 
 One, only one, of Israel's band 
 
 The Lord's command defied, 
 Took of the treasures of the land, 
 
 And in his trespass, died.* 
 And Achan's sin and Achan's shame, 
 May well a passing tribute claim ! 
 He sought to hide it. Can there be, 
 
 Within the earth's wide space, 
 A spot where we may secretly 
 
 Convey our sin ; wipe out its trace, 
 And say, It's safe? No ! Every eye 
 Will turn the secret to descry ; 
 And voiceless things will cry aloud — 
 
 * Josh, vii : 25-6, 
 
28 THE ARK OF 
 
 And unseen hands will lift the shroud, 
 That hides the buried sin from sight ; 
 And drag the guilty one to light ! 
 We see the answer. There he stands ! 
 The Guilty One of Israel's band. 
 Confronted by that daring crime, 
 
 That dooms his ill-starred name to be 
 Hung out before all coming time ; 
 
 Gibbeted in Man's memory ! 
 
 IX. 
 
 At length, the land has rest. No more 
 The fields are red with hostile gore. 
 No more are heard the sounds of strife ; 
 The struggle for a nation's life 
 At last has ceased ; and Israel stands, 
 Confessed the Victor ; while the bands 
 Of Canaan's warriors shrink away, 
 And join, no more, the hostile fray. 
 By lotMivine, each tribe receives 
 Its own inheritance ; and lives 
 In its own borders. But no more, 
 The voice of their great Leader swells, 
 
 In trumpet-tones upon the ear; 
 Or, in its calmer accents, tells 
 
 The words He wills them all to hear. 
 
THE COVENANT, 29 
 
 His form lies silent in the grave : 
 And all the signs, Jehovah gave, 
 To seal his ministry, have fled ; 
 As fades the memory of the dead — 
 
 And who their influence can restore? 
 And Canaan's sins have come to be, 
 Entwined in Israel's history. 
 The outward forms of worship, still 
 Their place, in each day's duties, fill. 
 Still, from the Brazen Altar, rise 
 The flames of daily sacrifice. 
 But, o'er the Mercy-Seat, no more, 
 Glows the Shechinah, as of yore. 
 Gone is the splendor of its light ; 
 The Ark itself is wrapped in night ; 
 And, sounding o'er the hallowed shrine, 
 No more is heard the voice Divine ; 
 Hushed are its counsels ; all unheard, 
 Its guiding or restoring word ; 
 And darkness, with no light of grace, 
 Falls thickly round the Holy Place ! 
 And years pass by. And darker grows 
 
 Israel's transgression, and the rod 
 Of judgments gathering o'er them shows 
 
 The marks of an offended God ! 
 
30 THE ARK OF 
 
 But Grace prepares the means to bless, 
 Where all is lost by wickedness. 
 
 X 
 
 An Hebrew mother brings her boy, 
 
 An offering to the Lord ; 
 And in the fullness of her joy, 
 
 Owns the sweet pledge restored : — 
 u Lent to the Lord ; he shall be Thine, 
 
 As long as he doth live ; 
 And all my love might claim as mine 
 
 In him, to Thee I give : 
 Sealed to Thy service here, to show 
 What blessings from that service flow ! 
 Through him shall Thy most gracious voice 
 
 Sound in our midst once more ; 
 And faithful souls in Thee rejoice — 
 
 Their Everlasting Store ! 
 Thy poor shall be completely bless'd ; 
 
 And all the world shall see, 
 That they alone can safely rest, 
 
 Who surely trust in Thee ! " 
 
 And now a vision pure and deep, 
 As ever dawned on poet's sleep, 
 Upon the page appears ; 
 
THE COVENANT, 31 
 
 We gaze with wonder, and confess 
 How much of its sweet loveliness, 
 
 Sparkles through dew-like tears ? 
 In Shiloh, God had fixed His Seat ; 
 
 And all the rites that made 
 His service at the first complete, 
 
 Were here, again arrayed. 
 Perfect in beauty — but no more 
 They tell of an unbounded store 
 Of Grace and Truth, whose meaning lies 
 In unknown forms before their eyes. 
 Radiant with light ; whose beams in vain, 
 Seek entrance in their hearts to gain ; 
 As shadows faultless ; but no eye, 
 
 Sees the great Truth, whose outline there 
 Lies in these forms of mystery, 
 
 To point the hope, or prompt the prayer. 
 Still in its outward form, complete, 
 No glory crowns the Mercy-Seat. 
 The Body perfect — but no sign, 
 Or movement tells of Life divine ! 
 In stately robes of beauty dress'd, 
 
 The frontlet on his brow ; 
 The high priest bears upon his breast, 
 
 All Israel's thousands now. 
 For in the Breastplate's jeweled face. 
 
32 
 
 THE ARK OF 
 
 Each tribe by name, appears : 
 Stands in its own appointed place ; 
 
 And in his priesthood bears 
 Its own relation to the Blood, 
 In which His chosen people stood. 
 But, o'er that Breastplate play, no more, 
 
 Those beams of heavenly light, 
 That made its radiancy, of yore 
 
 A wonder and delight ! 
 The ancient glory of the Place. 
 
 Where God had deigned to be 
 Found in the workings of His grace, 
 
 The priest, no more, could see ! 
 Still, in one dull routine, he goes ; 
 And still the stream of service flows, 
 
 When all its life had fled ; 
 Still, still, unthinking, he pursues 
 One beaten path ; and still renews 
 
 Death's service for the dead ! 
 Meanwhile, as comes the dawn of day, 
 In the first tint of early gray, 
 
 Appearing in the East; 
 So light, amid this darkness springs ; 
 And promise makes of better things, 
 
 As Samuel, the Child-Priest, 
 Begins his work of minist'ring, 
 
THE COVENANT, 33 
 
 The lowliest and the least ! 
 Taught only, at his mother's knee, 
 Scarce conscious what he heard ; 
 The youthful Prophet, wonderingly, 
 
 Felt life's deep fountain stirred, 
 As, musing in the Holy-Place, 
 He found these symbol Lights of Grace, 
 
 Could, to his spirit's view, 
 Dim outlines of the Unseen trace, 
 
 As shadows of the true. 
 Oh ! think not Truth's most subtle strain, 
 In childhood's ears is told in vain. 
 Harp-like, the spirit may resound 
 With many a low, sweet, voiceless sound ; 
 
 And leaving much untold 
 May still interpret truths, that lie 
 Too deep for human scrutiny, 
 
 And their best sense unfold ! 
 For, like the germ within the flower, 
 
 The soul of truth may lie 
 Unconscious; waiting for the hour 
 
 Whose sun-like ministry 
 Shall bid the unseen truth arise 
 As flowrets do 'neath genial skies. 
 
34 THE ARK OF 
 
 XI. 
 
 Eli had lain him down, to sleep ; 
 And, in the shadows still and deep 
 
 Around the Holy Place, 
 Samuel, with ca m and peaceful breast, 
 Had sought the boon of childhood's rest, 
 
 And found its needed grace. 
 The Lamp of God was burning low ; 
 And all things told the silent, slow, 
 
 Deep waning of its light; 
 When, breaking on the startled ear, 
 A deep voice, musical and clear 
 
 Rang out upon the night. 
 Samuel ! it called ; and Samuel heard ; 
 And, at the unexpected word, 
 
 But with no thought of dread ; 
 At once, to Eli's couch he ran, 
 And touched the venerable man. 
 
 11 I called thee not," he said ; 
 "Go to thy rest again !" and he 
 Without reply, obediently 
 Went to his couch : But hark ! once more 
 That deep voice sounded as before ; 
 
 And, only wondering why 
 Eli should call him to his side, 
 
THE COVENANT. 35 
 
 When he, so late, the call denied, 
 And thinking but of him, replied, 
 
 II Thou call'dst me. Here am I !" 
 
 II I did not call, my son !" he said ; 
 And, mute with wonder, to his bed, 
 The child returned — but not to sleep. 
 For once again was heard that deep, 
 Melodious voice ; which to his ear 
 Came, as from one unseen, but near : 
 Samuel, it called ! and twice the word 
 
 Rang through the Holy-Place. 
 Not yet did Samuel know the Lord ; 
 Not yet had he received His word, 
 
 Or known His pard'ning grace ; 
 And thinking but of Eli, ran 
 And touched once more the aged man ; 
 " Nay, nay!" he said, " for thou didst call, 
 
 And I am here again !" 
 
 At once, a light began to fall ; 
 
 Revealing in its train, 
 What Eli could not but recall, 
 
 Yet feared to entertain. 
 Was it His Voice that called the child ? 
 
 It must, indeed, be He. 
 That thought, alone, could clear the wild 
 
36 THE ARK OF 
 
 And startling mystery 
 That hung about it ! "'No !" he said ; 
 " I called thee not. Go to thy bed : 
 And if again, that voice is heard, 
 Answer to the inquiring word. 
 Speak ! for Thy servant heareth, Lord !" 
 
 Oh ! radiant is the morning dew, 
 
 When Spring's first opening rose 
 Begins, to our admiring view. 
 
 Its beauties to disclose. 
 But never yet, to mortal sight. 
 
 Did opening flower convey 
 Such beauty, as when first the light 
 
 Of God's own Truth makes way, 
 For its unfolding in the soul, 
 That opens to its sweet control. 
 
 In Childhood's dawnine daw 
 
 So Samuel answered, as he heard 
 Again, that thrice repeated word. 
 Speak, for thy servant heareth, Lord ! 
 And then as tolls the funeral bell, 
 Words, clear and deep, sound forth the 
 knell 
 Of Eli's gathering doom : 
 
THE COVENANT. 
 
 Words with no softening touch of grace. 
 S emed to fill all the sacred place 
 :h darkness and with gloom. 
 For he, the Father, Ruler, Priest, 
 
 th tripple power supplied, 
 To bring the greatest and the least, 
 
 Obedient to his side, 
 Looked on as if he heeded not ; 
 
 While on the priesthood's name, 
 His sons affixed the damning blot 
 
 Of infamy and sham^ 
 And judgments, from the hand of God, 
 Prepared them for the chast'ning rod ! 
 
 XII. 
 
 years passed on ; and Samuel grew 
 
 A prophet of the Lord ; 
 And all the tribes of Israel knew, 
 
 That the Revealing Word 
 In Shiloh's Tent appeared once more, 
 In Symbol Presence, as of yore ; 
 That once again, the voice divine, 
 
 In accents low and s 
 Sounded from out the glorious sign, 
 
 That crowned the Mercy-Sea 
 
 II 
 
38 THE ARK OF 
 
 The living service of their Lord, 
 In the Child-Prophet is restored ! 
 
 XIII. 
 
 But War is raging. Israel's might 
 Fails, in this now unequal fight, 
 
 The victory to win. 
 Back of Philistia's hostile bands 
 Unseen by human vision stands 
 
 The doom of Israel's sin. 
 It gives its strength to every stroke ; 
 It bends their necks beneath the yoke ; 
 And with the blood of thousands slain, 
 Enriches all the battle-plain ! 
 
 Again the conflict rages : now, 
 
 More fiercely than before : 
 The fields are drenched ; the br:oks run 
 red, 
 
 With freshly streaming gore. 
 Still, at one point, the battle tide 
 
 With fiercer force is rushing ; 
 And strength, by human hate supplied, 
 Through human hearts is crushing. 
 And then there burst so fierce a yell, 
 
 Upon the startled air ; 
 
THE COVENANT. 
 
 39 
 
 As if the very fiends of hell, 
 Were massed in conflict there. 
 
 And shields were cleft ; and banners rent, 
 
 And steeds and riders madly blent 
 In deadly overthrow. 
 
 Still, still that cry unceasing goes ; 
 
 And still the tide of battle flows, 
 Upon the unyielding foe ! 
 
 At last the conflict lulls. But hark ! 
 
 That shrill, despairing cry 
 Proclaims to Israel, that the Ark 
 
 Had lost the victory. 
 What brought it there ? God's sacred sign 
 
 Of covenanted grace ; 
 What brought it to the battlefield, 
 
 From its appointed place ? 
 Man's empty thought, that outward signs, 
 
 Could living power bestow ! 
 Or that the Symbol Ark could work 
 
 Discomfort on the foe ! 
 Still through the ages, men had planned, 
 
 The outward Rite to place, 
 In substitution for the grand 
 
 And living work of grace ! 
 But painted lightning could, no more, 
 
4 o THE ARK OF 
 
 Its path in glory trace ; 
 Or shadowy props support the wall, 
 Threatened with danger of its fall ! 
 No ! Life alone, can life bestow ! 
 And outward Rites can only show 
 As Object Lessons, to the eye, 
 The grand and living mystery — 
 God, in communion with the soul, 
 
 Can, as an end of strife, 
 Subject it to this sweet control, 
 
 And fill it with His Life ! 
 
 XIV. 
 
 Eli forebodes the worst. And now, 
 Dark shadows rest upon his brow ; 
 Fears for the Ark disturb his rest; 
 Conscience of evil shakes his breast, 
 
 With overmastering dread ; 
 He trembles for the Ark of God ; 
 Shrinks from His now extended rod, 
 
 And bows his hoary head, 
 In meek acceptance of the doom, 
 That sends his loved ones to the tomb: 
 Out from the priesthood wipes his name, 
 And clothes it with perpetual shame ! 
 See ! There he sits ! Old ; feeble ; blind ; 
 
THE COVENANT, 41 
 
 With form bent forward ; head inclined ; 
 And leaning on his staff, to hear 
 Whatever might, to hope or fear, 
 
 Its strength or solace bring ; 
 When, suddenly, upon the air, 
 Loud cries of terror and despair, 
 
 Out from the City ring ! 
 Forerunners from the fatal field, 
 Had Israel's overthrow revealed ; 
 And sorrow sits on every brow ; 
 And every arm is powerless now, 
 
 And every heart oppressed ; 
 And Eli, struggling with his fear. 
 Signs to the runner to come near, 
 
 And tell to him the rest : — 
 With garments rent, and on his head, 
 The roadside dust and ashes spread, 
 
 The runner tells his tale — 
 44 Israel is vanquished ! On the plain, 
 Thousands unburied now remain ; 
 Hopni and Phineas, too, are slain — " 
 
 The old man's cup is full ; but still, 
 He drains it with unfaltering will 
 To the last dregs. But when he heard 
 The runner add his last, sad, word 
 About the Ark of God ; in vain, 
 
42 
 
 THE ARK OF 
 
 The struggle longer to retain 
 
 The mastery of himself. The ear, 
 
 One low, deep, anguished cry could hear ; 
 
 One sharp, heart-broken wail ; — 
 And Eli's spirit to his God, 
 Went forth, as backward on the sod, 
 
 His body lifeless, fell ; 
 Mute witness for the truth of God ; 
 And charged, of His avenging rod, 
 
 To future times to tell — 
 His Sin had met him face to face, 
 
 And with its deadly doom, 
 Had clothed him with the deep disgrace, 
 
 Of a dishonored tomb ! 
 Poor, weak, old man ! Too weak to hold 
 The reins of judgment, on his bold, 
 And wilful sons ; or, in the Name 
 Of Israel's God, His Word proclaim ! 
 Yet still he loved the Ark ; and still, 
 He served it with a gladsome will. 
 Dearer than all that Life could give, 
 He held the privilege to live 
 In its sweet service and employ ; — 
 One fatal weakness, on the joy 
 That else, would have possessed his soul, 
 Entered its claim — and marred the whole ! 
 
THE COVENANT, 43 
 
 XV. 
 
 With dance, and songs, and shouts of joy 
 
 Philistia's camp is ringing. 
 And tribute to their idol god, 
 
 Philistia's lords are bringing ! 
 The Ark of God is borne aloft, 
 
 In triumph by its foes ; 
 And straight to Dagon's Temple, see ! 
 
 The vast procession goes. 
 And placed before its altar there 
 
 The sacred Symbol stands ; 
 As if the very Truth of God, 
 
 Were in the idol's hands ! 
 Was it indeed ? Was this the end 
 
 Their glorious past was meant to reach ? 
 God's dealings with them — did they tend 
 
 No higher truth than this to teach ? 
 Had Egypt's lessons ended here ? 
 
 Was the Red Sea an empty show? 
 Had Jordan failed them, in the clear, 
 
 Outspoken truths it taught them ? No ! 
 Eternally those truths remain : 
 And sooner shall the starry plain 
 Pass into nothingness • and Earth 
 Forget the laws which from its birth, 
 
4 4 THE ARK O fi 
 
 Ruled every motion, than one word, 
 
 Shall fail, of all that Israel's Lord 
 
 Had spoken to them ! Rest we here ; — 
 
 The shadows, for a time, may hide 
 The landscape from us. But the clear, 
 
 Unclouded radiance shall abide 
 Back of the shadows : and restore 
 The splendors of the day, once more. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 The morning sun rose bright and clear ; 
 And Dagon's priests, from far and near, 
 Are hast'ning to his temple ; there, 
 Fit rites of worship to prepare. 
 But sudden anger fires the crowd ; 
 And imprecations, deep and loud 
 Burst from them ! Dagon overthrown ? 
 Their idol prostrate on his face, 
 Before the Arkj Seems it not clear, 
 Some other Power was active here, 
 
 Than that which men can trace ? 
 Some other Will had this decreed ; 
 Some other Hand had done this deed, 
 
 And hurled him from his place ! 
 But soon back to that place, once more, 
 Did willing hands their god restore ; 
 
THE COVENANT. 
 
 45 
 
 And turning thence away, 
 In mute expectancy abide 
 Whate'er disclosures might betide, 
 
 Upon the coming day ? 
 
 The morning rose ; and with it came 
 
 The truth they dread to hear ; 
 That Dagon might, a thing of shame, 
 
 Before their eyes appear. 
 And soon his temple's open door 
 Revealed that truth. There ! with his face 
 
 Upon the temple's floor, 
 He lies dismembered ; in disgrace 
 
 Before the Ark, once more ! 
 There, too, cast on the threshold, see ! 
 His head and hands mysteriously 
 Sharing that unseen stroke that gave 
 His cause to a dishonored grave ! 
 So, there he lies ! Poor ; abject ; mean 
 
 In the ridiculous excess 
 Of folly, that could seek to screen 
 
 Such impotence from the express 
 And stern rebuke of men deceived 
 By that in which they most believed ! 
 But yesterday the Ark appeared 
 
 To them an empty name ! 
 
4 6 THE ARK OF 
 
 To-day ? By thousands it is feared, 
 
 As vested with a claim 
 Of matchless power ; which — silently 
 As lightning from a cloudless sky — 
 Smites home with the avenging rod, 
 Of things that do the will of God ! 
 
 XVII. 
 
 The men of Ashdod, in their grief, 
 Cry out for succor and relief. 
 The Ark of God abroad they bear 
 From place to place ; but everywhere 
 It spreads the same, o'ermastering fear. 
 
 Its mere approach awakens dread : 
 And heavy judgments, far and near, 
 
 Fence it about, with silent tread, 
 And as the months pass slowly by, 
 
 Bursts forth from all the land — 
 
 " Send back the Ark of Israel's God 
 
 That we, no more may feel His rod, 
 
 Or tremble 'neath His hand ! " 
 
 Philistia's lords that call attend, 
 The priests and the diviners lend 
 Their presence, aiding to devise 
 
THE COVENANT, 47 
 
 Whatever course may seem most wise 
 
 And prudent to pursue. 
 In high debate, their voices blend ; 
 And shape, as the ulterior end, 
 
 This thing for them to do ; — 
 
 11 The Ark must be returned ; but so, 
 That we, beyond all doubt, may know, 
 It was no chayice that laid its hand 
 Upon our god, our homes, our land!' 
 
 Due preparations then were made ; 
 The Ark on a new cart was laid ; 
 A trespass offering too, encased 
 In a gold coffer then, was placed 
 With solemn reverence by its side ; 
 Two kine were in their places tied 
 To draw the cart ; while kept behind, 
 Their calves were in their stalls confined. 
 And thus they stand, prepared to bear 
 The Ark to its own place ! But where ? 
 No voice directs them where to move ; 
 And Nature, by their yearning love 
 For their own offspring, bids them go 
 Back to their stalls ! But will they ? No ! 
 A stronger power turns them aside, 
 
4 8 THE ARK OF 
 
 From native fields to paths untried ; 
 O'er which, with measured steps and slow, 
 They journey — lowing as they go ! 
 Straight on to Bethshemesh * they bear 
 
 Their sacred burden ; nor delay, 
 To crop the road-side grass ; or share 
 
 The grateful shade, that skirts the way! 
 And thus, o'er valley, plain and hill, 
 They hold their course unchecked, until 
 They reach the village harvest field, 
 Where they their sacred treasure yield ! 
 Their work was done. And so they stand 
 As if awaiting the command, 
 
 That urged them all their way; 
 Whether it called to toil or strife, 
 Or ended service with their life — 
 
 Theirs only to obey ! 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 It is wheat harvest ; and to-day 
 The fields put on their best array ; — 
 The golden grain waves to and fro ; 
 Or falls in many a measured row 
 
 * A village to the North of Judah, belonging to the priests. 
 Josh, xv : io. 
 
THE COVENANT. 49 
 
 Before the reapers' tread. 
 Young men and maidens intervene, 
 To add fresh beauty to the scene, 
 
 And banish thoughts of dread. 
 With gladness, every breast is stirred ; 
 When lo ! a rumbling sound is heard, 
 
 Of wheels upon the sod ; 
 At once each reaper's form is raised, 
 And every one looks up amazed 
 
 To see the Ark of God. 
 No human voice directs their way, 
 Or bids them where their course to stay ; 
 
 But just beside that Stone,* 
 Which, altar-like its form uprears, 
 There, 'mid the reapers' deaf'ning cheers, 
 
 Their vvonderous work is done ! 
 With willing hands and reverent air, 
 Down from the cart the Levites bear 
 The Sacred Symbol, and prepare 
 The fitting rites of worship. There ! 
 That Stone, their altar could supply ; 
 
 The cart, the wood might yield ; 
 Their Temple's roof, the vaulted sky ; 
 
 Its floor, the harvest field ! 
 
 * I Sam, vi ; 14. 
 
50 THE ARK OF 
 
 And soon the flames of sacrifice 
 Were seen ascending to the skies. 
 And gladness thrilled thro' every breast, 
 
 That Israel, "how, in peace, once more, 
 Beneath His outspread wings could rest, 
 
 As had their fathers done, before ! 
 
 XIX. 
 
 Through varying scenes of light and shade, 
 
 The progress of the Ark was laid. 
 
 Their unseen God seemed ever near, 
 
 To deepen love or heighten fear : 
 
 As faith or unbelief supplies 
 
 The thought that prompts their sacrifice ? 
 
 In the sweet radiance of his claim 
 
 To faithfulness in every trust, 
 Samuel had gone ; but left his name 
 
 The fragrant memory of the just, 
 And History, on her tablets, bears 
 
 No names, that with such beauty show, 
 How, from a Mother's faith and prayers, 
 
 Such rich and varied blessings flow ! 
 Saul too, had ended his career, 
 
 But left behind a tarnished name; 
 Unhallowed by devotions tear ; 
 
 A thing of darkness and of shame — 
 
THE COVENANT, 5I 
 
 No circling radiance round it glows ; 
 No power of blessing from it flows ; 
 No honor to the Ark was paid ; 
 
 No grateful memory for its past 
 Of glory, on his people laid — 
 
 Self-willed and faithless to the last ; 
 Unblest his own high path he trod ; 
 And went, uncalled for, to his God ! 
 Then David came. His ruddy face, 
 His stalwart form, and manly grace, 
 Seemed to suggest exalted place. 
 Raised to the throne, he stood confess'd, 
 
 First monarch of his day ; 
 And, o'er the nation God had bless'd, 
 
 Held undisputed sway! 
 Each intimation of the will 
 Of Israel's God constrained him still : 
 His highest wisdom was to be, 
 With that, in perfect harmony ! 
 His name, His honor, and His word 
 Held the first place ; and Israel's Lord 
 Was sought too — and not sought in vain — 
 Thro' the long period of his reign ! 
 Fixed on his throne, without delay 
 
 All Israel gatherd at his call, 
 In most magnificent array, 
 
52 
 
 THE ARK OF 
 
 To carry up the Ark. And all 
 That kingly power could do to show 
 The glory of its past ; and throw 
 A sense of greatness round it, he 
 Achieved, with joyous loyalty ! 
 The silver trumpets' sweetest strains ; 
 
 The lute's soft notes ; the cymbal's 
 sound, 
 Mingling with voices from the trains 
 
 Of earnest worshipers around, 
 In sweetest harmony, proclaim 
 The praises of Jehovah's Name ! 
 And so, with music, dance and song, 
 
 And every outward trace 
 Of joy, the Ark is borne along, 
 
 Up to the Holy Place. 
 And as it gains its station there, 
 These words ring out upon the air ; — 
 
 Rise up, O Lord ! from thy seeming 
 repose ! 
 Arise, and be known from the Ark of 
 Thy rest ! 
 Shine forth in Thy light and Thy splendor 
 for those 
 Who blest with Thy love, are of all 
 things possessed ! 
 
THE C O VE N A MT. 53 
 
 Let Thy saints in the garments of joy be 
 arrayed ! 
 Let Thy priests, in the robe of Thy 
 righteousness shine ! 
 At the workings of ill, let them not be 
 dismayed ; 
 And the light that surrounds them, be 
 glory divine ! 
 
 XX. 
 
 So years passed by ; and wealth and fame 
 Added fresh splendors to his name. 
 Surrounding nations own his sway, 
 And tribute to his greatness, pay. 
 But earthly power looked sweetly down, 
 
 From his exalted place ; 
 And found its glory and its crown, 
 
 In that grand scheme of grace, 
 That sought before Creation's birth, 
 To save the ruined sons of earth. 
 The everlasting Covenant stood, 
 Sanctioned and sealed in Jesus' blood ; 
 And, by its counsels, all divine, 
 Messiah, in the kingly line 
 Of David, was to David given ; 
 The Second Man, the Lord from Heaven ! 
 
S4 
 
 THE ARK O P 
 
 Thus David grew ; for all his powers, 
 
 Tree-like, unfolded in the light 
 Of God's own Truth — or summer flowers, 
 " Cresent by moonlight" — and his sight 
 Of heavenly things grew strong and clear, 
 As faith brought unseen objects near. 
 Each phase of the believer's life ; 
 Its joys, its peace ; the inward strife 
 With unseen foes, that seek to win 
 His members to the work of sin, 
 And hold dominion o'er them ; this — 
 With the sweet touch of quiet bliss, 
 That thrills the spirit when it knows 
 Each conflict is with vanquished foes, 
 That seek to gain their lost control, 
 And conquer, e'en the ransomed soul ; 
 But flee at once before the sign 
 Of trusting in the Name divine — 
 All this was his ; and in the strains 
 Of the sweet singer still remains, 
 A royal legacy of song, 
 
 Our wants, our cravings to supply ; 
 And as the ages roll along, 
 
 Tell of the Love that cannot die ! 
 
THE COVENANT, 55 
 
 XXI. 
 
 Speak low ; as for a father's shame. 
 For guilt besmears that honored name ; 
 And secret sins cry out to God, 
 And call for His avenging rod. 
 Mourn o'er his fall ! But let no claim 
 
 Of a false pity seek to hide 
 The blackness of his guilt ; or frame 
 
 Suggestions, that would turn aside 
 His condemnation. For the sin, 
 That unexpelled, still lurked within 
 His members ; waiting for its hour, 
 Finds it at last ; and wond'ringly, 
 Conquers by unresisted power, 
 
 And gains permitted victory ! 
 
 Where shall he now his guilt bestow? 
 
 Where hide his fearful secret ? See ! 
 Through Earth's wide range, above, below, 
 
 There is no single spot where he 
 May safely hide away his sin. 
 Earth will not take his secret in ! 
 Silent as Thought : with cat-like tread, 
 
 Unseen, it follows on his path ; 
 And makes the living and the dead, 
 
56 
 
 THE ARK OP 
 
 Secret detectives of his wrath, 
 Before whom sin can ne'er abide ; 
 Or ever from His presence hide ! 
 And years may pass, and mortal eyes 
 
 May fail the guilty one to trace : 
 When lo ! the buried sin will rise, 
 
 And meet the sinner face to face ! 
 But not for this did David wait ; 
 Or hide behind his kingly state. 
 For when the prophet of the Lord 
 Spoke to him this revealing word, 
 " Thou art the man ," at once his sin, 
 
 Unveiled, before his view, appears ; 
 And shame without, and guilt within 
 
 Rise up against him ; when he hears 
 A voice that spoke to him alone ; — 
 And, circling from the Eternal Throne, 
 Told of his sin, without one plea, 
 
 And then, of One who for him stood ; 
 And, answering to its penalty, 
 
 Secured his pardon with His blood ! 
 Oh ! sweeter than the sweetest strains 
 
 Of music on the moonlit sea ; 
 The memory of that hour remains, 
 
 When Faith first heard the Come to Me ; 
 And coming finds the promised rest, 
 
THE COVENANT. 57 
 
 Pardon and peace on Jesus' breast ! 
 
 There only we begin to see 
 
 The hatefulness of sin ; and flee 
 
 From its control away ! 
 There, there, repentance unto life 
 Reveals its power, with blessings rife, 
 
 As Light reveals the Day ! 
 
 XXII. 
 
 But does the pardon of our sin, 
 
 Wipe out its consequences ? No ! 
 From its first moment, they begin 
 
 To work their just results ; and flow, 
 Unseen as streams beneath the sod ; 
 
 Till from their secret place they rise 
 
 And show, before our wondering eyes, 
 How all things seal the Truth of God ! 
 And Evil soon begins its work, 
 
 In those he deemed most true ; 
 And still, new combinations rose ; 
 And still, the gatherings of his foes, 
 
 Stronger and stronger grew. 
 But that, which wrought the deadliest grief 
 Which neither solace nor relief, 
 
 From earthly source could gain ; — 
 Like spear-head, broken in his side — 
 4 
 
5 8 THE ARK OF 
 
 That Absalom, his boy, his pride 
 
 Should lead the rebel train ! 
 Should rise against his father's life ; 
 And by this most unhallowed strife, 
 Seek to o'erthrow his father's throne, 
 And on its ruins rear his own. 
 This was the deadliest stroke of all ; 
 This was the thrust that made his fall, 
 Sudden; abrupt; without relief; 
 And crushed him, 'neath its wordless grief ! 
 Gone was his kingly look and air ; 
 His kingly head was bowed and bare ; 
 
 His kingly state was gone, 
 Gone too, the warrior's martial pride ; 
 His arm hung powerless by his side, 
 
 And refuge he had none ! 
 With other foes, a bow of steel 
 Might sooner, soft compunction feel, 
 
 Than he decline the fray ! 
 But, when the stroke, that ends the strife, 
 Can do so only through his life ; 
 
 Heart-sick he turns away — 
 Rather be crown and kingdom lost ; 
 Than saved by him at such a cost ! 
 
THE COVENANT, 59 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 So David flees. A little band 
 
 Loving in heart, and strong in hand ; 
 Faithful and tried and true, 
 Prepare to follow where he leads ; 
 To succor him in all his needs ; 
 
 And bring him safely through ! 
 And as he flees his followers swell, 
 
 To hundreds, thousands, more ; 
 And still, the growing numbers tell 
 
 Of an increasing store 
 Of loyal hearts, prepared to bring, 
 Back to his throne their lord and king ! 
 And still the host increases. See, 
 That swelling throng ! How reverently 
 They press about him ! How his grief 
 Makes mute appeal for their relief; 
 As he, by sorrow overborne ; 
 With covered head and garments torn, 
 Turned from his kingly state away ; 
 From home ; and from the sweet array 
 Of influences that distill ; 
 Gently, as dew on Sion's Hill, 
 For those that truly know the Lord, 
 And love the treasures of His word ! 
 
60 THE ARK OF 
 
 And so he loved the Holy Place ; 
 
 The Ark : the Mercy-Seat ; the Light 
 Of glory from the symbol face 
 
 Of the Shechinah ! But the site 
 Of all its treasures, now, no more 
 Made portion of his kingly store ! 
 And Zadok answered to this thought ; 
 And with a band of Levites brought 
 The Ark from its own place to share 
 The burdens he was called to bear ! 
 But now, the Ark would be, to him 
 
 Shorn of its glory. For the light, 
 That dwelt between the Cherubim, 
 
 Showed not its radiance in his sight ! 
 That glorious Sign of pard'ning grace, 
 Would show the the hiding of his face ? 
 The Mercy-Seat would yield, no more, 
 Its gracious counsels as before ; 
 But dark and silent now the Shrine, 
 That echoed with the voice divine ? 
 So, said the king, take back the Ark. 
 For, while my path lies in the dark, 
 He> only He, can give me light ! 
 If I find favor in His sight, 
 I shall again, behold His face, 
 And worship in the Holy Place. 
 
THE COVENANT. 6l 
 
 But, if from me He turn away ; 
 And by his dealings, seem to say, 
 "/ have no pleasure in thee!' Lo ! 
 Here I am : prepared to know, 
 And own the pleasure of my Lord; 
 And bow before His Sovereign word ! 
 And this is Faith — the spirit-rest 
 
 Of him that knows, but cannot see ; 
 That leans upon the Saviour's breast 
 
 In storm as in tranquility ; 
 And waits, as for the dawning day, 
 Until the shadows pass away : 
 That lets the blessed sunshine in, 
 
 When darkness seems to veil the sky ; 
 And 'midst Earth's deserts, feels within, 
 
 The movings of a spring of joy ; 
 Which, 'mid the desert's sands and strife, 
 Springs up to everlasting life ! 
 
 Oh ! not in the Ark, as a Symbol divine, 
 Do we meet the rich treasures of truth 
 and of grace. 
 We see them alone, when in Jesus they 
 shine, 
 In that fullness of glory, no mortal can 
 trace. 
 
62 THE ARK. 
 
 For He, in Himself is the fullness ex- 
 pressed 
 In the symbols that grouped round the 
 Ark of the Lord. 
 And the beams of the beauty on all things 
 impressed 
 Are but shades of the glories that in 
 Him are stored ! 
 No. Not in the Ark ! That is only a Sign ! 
 Tis the God of the Ark, who bestows 
 all the power. 
 And that moves the heart, by an impulse 
 divine — 
 As only the sunbeam can open the 
 flower ! 
 
 The shrines of the Temple may glitter- in 
 gold ; 
 The rites of the Holy-Place wait on our 
 call; 
 The riches of art may leave nothing 
 untold — 
 But one beam of His brightness would 
 darken them all I 
 
Miscellaneous Poems. 
 
THE BLIND WEAVER. 
 
 A Weaver sat at his Loom, 
 
 A blind old man was he ; 
 And he saw not one of the Shuttle's 
 threads, 
 
 Which he wrought so cunningly ; 
 But his fingers touched each line, 
 
 As the pattern before him grew : 
 And the sunset gleam of a smile divine, 
 
 Its light o'er his features threw : 
 As, plying his work to a slight refrain, 
 He sang it over and over again : — 
 Light and Darkness and Shade ; 
 
 Shade and Darkness and Light : 
 We can never tell how the pattern s made, 
 
 Till the fabric is turned in our sight ! 
 
 And slowly the fabric grew ; 
 
 As his shuttle, from side to side, 
 With a cunning turn of his wrist he threw, 
 
 And its lines were multiplied. 
 But still, the surface was rough, 
 "*4 
 
66 THE BLIND WEAVER. 
 
 And the pattern you could not trace : 
 For the threads seemed blindly broken off, 
 
 And showed neither beauty nor grace ; 
 But he plied his work, to a slight refrain, 
 And crooned it, o'er and o'er again : — 
 Light and Darkness and Shade : 
 
 Shade and Darkness and Light, 
 We never can tell what the patterns made, 
 
 Till the fabric is turned in our sight ! 
 
 And thus at the Loom of Life, 
 
 Like that blind, old Weaver, we 
 Are working the threads of our own 
 designs, 
 
 To a pattern we do not see ! 
 And still, with a patient love, 
 
 That is wiser far than we know : 
 There is One that looks from His Throne 
 above, 
 
 And directs the shuttle's throw. 
 And spite of our broken threads, 
 
 He is working His Great Design ; 
 And the Pattern that seemed unmeaning 
 here, 
 
 With a heavenly grace shall shine ! 
 So, we'll ply our work to the old refrain. 
 
THE RAINB W. 67 
 
 And sing it o'er and o'er again ; 
 Light and Darkness and Shade : 
 
 Shade and Darkness and Light 
 Shall have done their work when the 
 
 Pattern s made, 
 And the Fabric is held up to sight I 
 
 THE RAINBOW. 
 
 1. 
 Up from the West, dark, sullen, proud, 
 
 It rolled along the sky ; 
 The summer's first-born thunder cloud, 
 
 In gloomy majesty : 
 And distant mutterings, deep and loud, 
 
 Told that the storm was nigh : 
 While the large raindrops' pattering 
 
 sound, 
 Seemed to rejoice the thirsty ground ! 
 
 2. 
 
 It came at last ; a sudden flash 
 
 Of most bedazzling light, 
 To which the Thunder's deep-toned crash 
 
 Responded in its might, 
 
68 7 HE RAINBOW. 
 
 And the rain as it rushed, with sudden 
 dash, 
 Like diamond-sparks grew bright, 
 As the the Lightning sent its fiery gleam, 
 Athwart the drops of its falling stream. 
 
 3- 
 
 And then it ceased. The setting sun 
 Shone forth with brilliant ray ; 
 
 As if its best work must be done 
 To crown the closing day. 
 
 And heavy drops of dew bent down 
 Each twig and leaf and spray : 
 
 And birds poured forth their songs, to 
 greet 
 
 The gladsome scene with welcome meet. 
 
 4- 
 And as, with the resplendent glow, 
 
 The Western Clouds grew bright ; 
 Athwart the sky, Heaven's beauteous Bow 
 
 Rose trembling on the sight ; 
 And seemed to cast on all below, 
 
 A new and heavenly light ; 
 Which seemed, with radiance more divine. 
 On all within its arch to shine. 
 
THE R A IN B O W , 69 
 
 Sweet Bow of Promise ! As I gaze, 
 
 Upon thy radiant form ; 
 I think of Him, whos glory plays 
 
 In light above the storm : 
 And makes their iridescent rays 
 
 To His sure word conform : 
 More than Philosophy can teach, 
 Thou tellest in thy silent speech ! 
 
 6. 
 
 And still, as through the changing years, 
 
 The clouds arise in view ; 
 The sunbeam, at His word appears, 
 
 To pierce its darkness through : 
 And Nature's smiles and Nature's tears 
 
 The gracious pledge renew : 
 And bear to distant lands, the Sign 
 Of Grace and Mercy all divine ! 
 
76 HOW THE TROUT 
 
 HOW THE TROUT SWALLOWED 
 THE BARBEL; 
 
 OR, 
 A LETTER TO A YOUNG SCIENTIST. 
 
 1 There's mony a fact we kenfu 1 weel ; 
 But canna tell the reason <?' it. ' ' 
 
 Dear Ned : — You Scientists forget, 
 
 That, when explaining Nature's wonders, 
 You need some place in which to set 
 
 Her worshipers' most flagrant blunders. 
 Though as to facts you all agree ; 
 There's anything but harmony 
 When you explain them. And for one, 
 
 I scarcely know the vagary 
 That was not held in days long gone ; 
 
 — Nay, even named with commenda- 
 tion — 
 By those who served the Altar-fire 
 
 Of Science, in their generation, 
 And so, Dear Ned, when you aspire 
 
 To tread the path they've marked before 
 you ; 
 And, just to raise a little higher, 
 
SWALLOWED THE BARBEL, yi 
 
 The veil of darkness, hanging o'er you ; 
 Pray, don't forget, the facts may be, 
 
 Precisely as you represent them ; 
 And yet, because you fail to see 
 
 Some other fact, undoubtedly, 
 
 Your most ingenious theory 
 Will fail to state the truth anent them. 
 The facts may be as you've discerned ; 
 
 And seem a most prodigious wonder. 
 But, when that other fact is learned 
 
 Your theory will prove a blunder! 
 This is the truth as I would state it ; 
 And now proceed to name and date it.* 
 
 * A Story with a Moral. 
 
 Professor Owen, at the annual soiree of the Leeds Mechanics' 
 Institution, related the following anecdote : — Some of the work- 
 ing scientific men of London with a few others, have formed a 
 sort of club ; and after our winter's work of lecturing is over we 
 occasionally sally forth to have a day's fishing. We have for 
 that purpose taken a small river in the neighborhood of the me- 
 tropolis, and near its banks there stands a little public house, 
 where we dine soberly and sparingly on such food as old Izaak 
 Walton loved. We have a rule that he who catches the biggest 
 fish of the day shall be our president for the evening. In the 
 course of one day a member, not a scientific man but a high po- 
 litical man, caught a trout that weighed 3^ lbs., but early in 
 the clay he had pulled out a barbel of y z lb. weight. So while 
 we were on the way to our inn, what did this political gentleman 
 do but with the butt end of his rod ram the barbel down the 
 
7 2 HOW THE TR0U1 
 
 Some scientists of high renown, 
 Wearied with labors in the Town, 
 Agreed to lay aside their books, 
 
 trout's throat (loud laughter), in which state he handed the fish 
 to be weighed. Thus he scored 4 lbs., which being the greatest 
 weight he took the chair. As we were going away for home a 
 man of science — it was the President of the Royal Society — said 
 to the man of politics. " If you don't want that fine fish of yours 
 I should like to have it, for I have some friends to dine with 
 me to-morrow." My lord took it home, and I heard no more 
 until we met on the next week. Then, while we were pre- 
 paring our tackle, the President of the Royal Society said to 
 our high political friend. " There were some very extraordinary 
 circumstances, do you know, about that fish you gave me. 
 (Laughter). I had no idea that the trout was so voracious; 
 but that one had swallowed a barbel. - ' " I am astonished to 
 hear your lordship say so," rejoined an eminent naturalist; trout 
 may be voracious enough to swallow minnows — but a barbel, 
 my lord ! There must be some mistake." "Not at all," re- 
 plied his lordship, "for the fact got to my family that the cook, 
 in cutting open the trout, had found a barbel inside; and as my 
 family knew I was fond of natural history I was called into the 
 kitchen. There I saw it ; the trout had swallowed a barbel full 
 half a pound weight." "Out of the question, my lord," said 
 the naturalist; "it's altogether quite unscientific and unphilo- 
 sophical." " I don't know what may be philosophical in the 
 matter — I only know I am telling you a matter of fact," said his 
 lordship; and the dispute having lasted awhile, explanations 
 were given, and the practical joke was heartily enjoyed. And 
 (continued Professor Owen) you will see that both were right 
 and both wjre wrong. My lord was right in his fact — the bar- 
 bel was inside the trout ; but he was quite wrong in his hypothe- 
 sis founded upon that fact, that the trout bad therefore swallowed 
 the barbel— the last was only matter of opinion. 
 
SWALLOWED THE BARBEL. 73 
 
 And try their luck with lines and hooks. 
 In other words, to set about 
 The glorious work of catching trout ! 
 So, to the country they proceeded, 
 Supplied with all that most they needed ; 
 And sought both health and recreation, 
 In spending thus a short vacation. 
 They then resolved — those learned men 
 did — 
 
 That he, who scored the heaviest trout, 
 Should be adjudged to have ascended 
 
 — Worthily, too, beyond all doubt — 
 To the first honors won by them, 
 And be their President pro tern ! 
 
 Among their number, there was one, who 
 
 Loved a joke beyond his brothers ; 
 And who his task had never gone through, 
 
 Without a laugh upon the others ! 
 He was, besides, a politician : 
 And saw, as an astute logician, 
 Whatever Fortune thought of sending, 
 That promised help to gain his end in. 
 And so, he chanced to catch a trout, 
 That weighed some seven half : pounds 
 about; 
 
74 
 
 HO W THE TROUT 
 
 A barbel * too, of half-pound more ; 
 
 And these, combined, would win the score. 
 
 Because a four-pound Trout would be, 
 
 So rare a thing, that really, 
 
 The one that caught it might be sure, 
 
 To him, the honors would enure ! 
 
 And so it proved. The Chair, that night, 
 
 Was voted to the Politician ; 
 Who made the evening session, bright 
 
 With all the tricks of the Logician ; 
 Who scattered story, song and joke, 
 About him, in whate'er he spoke: 
 Like diamonds when their string is broke ! 
 
 The four pound Trout had caught the eye 
 Of the one Lord our Club possessed ; 
 
 And when its owner, graciously, 
 
 Asked his acceptance of it, he 
 
 Pronounced himself extremely bless'd ! 
 
 That night the Club adjourned : and when, 
 In a few days, they met again, 
 A look of most intense surprise, 
 
 * The Barbel — Barbus Vulgaris — is a fresh-water fish ; whose 
 upper jaw is furnished with four barbels, or beard-like appendges, 
 
S WA LL O WED THE BARBEL, 
 
 75 
 
 Flashed forth from both his Lorship's 
 
 eyes — 
 u There's something strange about that 
 Trout, Sir. 
 For, after all that we have heard ; 
 I do declare, without a doubt, Sir 
 The Trout's carnivorous ! " 
 
 "Absurd!" 
 
 Burst forth from all the members, there. 
 " Absurd or not, I do declare, 
 That, when my Cook prepared the Fish, 
 And laid it lengthwise on the dish ; 
 
 I saw the Barbel in the Trout ! 
 
 And what, from this, can you make out, 
 But that he swallowed it ? " 
 
 " No doubt, 
 The Fish was there, as you explain ! 
 But, how it got there, must remain, 
 A thing unknown ! But then my Lord, 
 Was never blunder so absurd, 
 
 As Barbel swallowed by a Trout! " 
 
 Just then, with merry twinkling eye, 
 The Politician made reply : — 
 
 II You see, that I was bound to gain, 
 
 The Presidency of our Club ? 
 
7 6 THE TROUT AND BARBEL. 
 
 But all my hopes of this were vain, 
 
 Unless — and there came in the rub — - 
 I scored the heaviest fish ; and so, 
 As homeward we prepared to go, 
 This little scheme came in my mind — 
 " The barbel and the troul combined, 
 Would give me every member s vote ; " 
 
 'Twas done as soon as it was planned— '- 
 So, lingering purposely behind, 
 
 I caught the Trout up in my hand, 
 And rammed the Barbel down its throat ! 
 
 And now Dear Ned ! my meaning's plain. 
 
 In every theory, word and act, 
 Would you a sound conclusion gain ? 
 
 Be sure you've learned that other fact ! 
 Because you see, if from the chain 
 
 Of your causation, you omit 
 One single link : it's very plain, 
 
 Your argument's not worth a nit ! 
 Grant, that the Barbel's in the Trout ! 
 
 But how it got there, is the question ? 
 And when you fail to make it out, 
 
 Because you have no facts to rest on ; 
 Be sure, not e'en to gain a vote, 
 Dont ram your Barbel down its throat! 
 
SOWING BESIDE ALL WATERS. 77 
 
 SOWING BESIDE ALL WATERS. 
 
 I dropped a Seed in the earth, 
 And I could not trace it there ; 
 
 But it grew by the hidden Law of its Birth, 
 To a Flowret, sweet and rare. 
 
 I struck a Chord in the soul 
 Of one who had music within ; 
 
 And it grew to a Song whose sweet control 
 Is heard 'mid the world's harsh din ! 
 
 I breathed a Hope in the heart, 
 Of one who was bowed by care ; 
 
 And it grew, like a rainbow out of the 
 clouds, 
 When the Sun was shining there. 
 
 And the Flower is blooming still, 
 
 For the Truth can never die ; 
 And the Music is working its own sweet 
 will, 
 
 To the fullest harmony ! 
 
78 DAILY BLESSINGS. 
 
 And the Hope that is born of Love, 
 Like the Love can never grow old ; 
 
 But it spreads its wings for its Home above, 
 — For its best was never told ! 
 
 DAILY BLESSINGS. 
 
 The blessings of our daily Life, 
 
 How manifold they be ! 
 And how, amid this dark world's strife, 
 
 Their quiet harmony 
 Comes, with a sweet persuading power, 
 As comes the dew-drop to the flower ; 
 
 Or murmurs of the sea, 
 To the tired mariner, at rest, 
 In peace upon the Ocean's breast ! 
 
 From the first moment of our birth, 
 
 While we our lot fulfill ; 
 Our passage up and down the earth, 
 
 Is marked by blessings still. 
 Countless as dew-drops on the lea ; 
 Or sand, tossed by the raging sea, 
 
 They speak His gracious will ; 
 
DAILY BLESSINGS. 79 
 
 And on our heads the burdens lay, 
 Of blessings we can ne'er repay ! 
 
 I cannot tell the sweep and range 
 
 Of all these gifts to me ; 
 Or estimate the wondrous change, 
 
 The loss of one would be ! 
 I only know the music deep, 
 The low, sweet, full, orchestral sweep 
 
 Of perfect harmony, 
 The grateful spirit seeks to bring, 
 Of tribute to its Heavenly King ! 
 
 'Tis good to feel a heavenly birth, 
 Though fashioned from the sod ; 
 
 And know that something not of earth, 
 Lifts me above the clod ! 
 
 To know myself derived from Thee — 
 
 And feel my immortality, 
 A part of Thine, O God ! 
 
 Whatever may other bosoms fill, 
 
 This, this is something nobler still ! 
 
 And now I seem some marks to trace, 
 
 Of what Thyself must be ; 
 Hid ; not obscurely, in the grace, 
 
go LETTER. 
 
 Of these, Thy gifts to me ! 
 Each one is earnest to proclaim, 
 Some syllable of Thy dear Name ; 
 
 Or fondly speak of Thee : 
 And all combined, show forth Thy praise, 
 And tribute to Thy glory raise. 
 
 And thus, as I Thy gifts recount, 
 There's such a boundless store 
 
 Drawn from Thine own exhaustless Fount 
 My cup is running o'er. 
 
 Free as the air they come to all ; 
 
 Noiseless as snowflakes in their fall ; 
 And yet Thou meanest more ? 
 
 For ne'er is Thy best blessing found, 
 
 Till with Thyself, Thy gifts are crowned ! 
 
 LETTER 
 
 FROM MISS KATE , TO A YOUNG 
 
 FRIEND ABOUT THE DARWINIAN 
 PHILOSOPHY. 
 
 Dear Dolly: — Just think now! It's not 
 
 so at all ! 
 After all we have heard of our loss by the 
 
 Fall; 
 
L E TT E R . 81 
 
 The New Lights of Science now make it 
 
 quite clear, 
 That that's not the cause of our sinning, 
 
 My Dear ! 
 
 Papa says, our preachers will now, have to 
 change 
 
 The field of their vision, and take a new 
 
 range ; 
 For the world has, at last, grown too wise 
 
 to believe, 
 That old woman's story of Adam and Eve ! 
 
 He says Mr. Darwin conclusively shows, 
 That Man was not made in his present 
 fair shape ! 
 He was not created, as some folks suppose ; 
 But slowly evolved from the Monkey or 
 Ape.* 
 
 * Note. — " Man is descended from a hairy quadruped, fur- 
 nished with a tail and pointed ears; probably arboreal in its 
 habits; and an inhabitant of the Old World. 1 ' See Darwin's 
 Descent of Man, Vol. II, p. 372 {Appleton s Ed.) 
 
 i( In a series of forms, graduating insensibly, from some ape- 
 like creature, to Man as he new exists,' - etc. Ibid, Vol I, p. 
 226. 
 
 "The early ape-like progenitor of Man." Ibid. Vol. I, p. 
 81 and 83, etc. " Man, alone has become a biped." Ibid. Vol. 
 i; P. 135- 
 5 
 
§2 LETTER. 
 
 But who made the Monkey, he could not 
 explain ; 
 And so, answered sharply, " Now Kate, 
 I must beg, 
 That you will not expose thus, your folly 
 again — 
 Don't you know that he came from the 
 primitive egg^' 
 
 But what that egg came from ; or how it 
 was hatched, 
 Is more than this poor brain of mine can 
 conceive. 
 Or, that the first ovum, like quilt-work, 
 was patched 
 With all shapes ot Life,is too much to 
 believe !* 
 
 * Note. — It is evident that Miss Kate had not profited by 
 her reading. For, had not Hugh Miller put into the mouth of 
 the Larnarckian Philosopher this comprehensive declaration : 
 
 — " Where that ditch now opens, the generations of the man 
 atop, lived, died, and were developed. There flourished and 
 decayed, his great, great, great, great grandfather, the sea-pen; 
 his great, great, great grandfather, the mussel ; his great, great 
 grandfather, the herring; his greatgrandfather, the frog; his 
 grandfather, the porpoise: and his father the monkey." Foot- 
 Prints of the Creator, p. 2 1 9. 
 
L E T TE R. 83 
 
 There's Father ! I'm sure now that people 
 must own, 
 That he's noble and manly — quite free 
 from low sins — 
 And his father and his — why as you go 
 down 
 Pray where ; tell me where ; this new 
 process begins ? 
 
 It must begin somewhere ! For don't you 
 suppose, 
 If monkeys were given to turn into men, 
 We should sometimes fall in with the cases 
 of those, 
 Who were only some half-way between 
 them ? And then — 
 
 It would be too funny ! Part Monkey part 
 Man! 
 The one fading gradu'ly off to the other ; 
 Till what as the meanest of monkeys began, 
 
 Should end in the silly Miss , or 
 
 her Brother ! 
 
 Perhaps too, it is so ! Papa says it's clear. 
 How else could it be, that the very same 
 men, 
 
34 LETTER. 
 
 Should, one day, so noble and manly ap- 
 pear ; 
 And the next taper off into monkey 
 again ? 
 
 But isn't it awful ? Now, think of it Dear ; 
 
 For, just as you're thinking, you're 
 
 something quite fine; 
 
 And how lovely the names of your kindred 
 
 appear, 
 
 To find an old ape at the end of the line ? 
 
 But Pa says, There's one thing that can't 
 be explained ; 
 One question, to solve which no labors 
 avail. 
 Can you guess what it is ? After all they 
 have gained, 
 They can give 110 account of his losing 
 his tail!* 
 
 He had one — that's certain ! He's lost 
 it — that's clear ! 
 
 * Note. — « No explanation, as far as I am aware, has been 
 given of the loss of the tail, by certain apes and by Man.'' Dar- 
 win's Descent of Man, Vol. I, p. 144 [Appleton's Ed.). 
 
LETTER. 85 
 
 But how he could lose it no one can 
 
 divine ! 
 And so, we must face the conclusion, My 
 
 Dear ; 
 The facts are too short, at one end of 
 
 the line ! 
 
 And, Dolly \ you'll hear this with greater 
 surprise ; 
 That Language was not God's great 
 gift unto Man ; 
 For it chanced, that an Ape,* most un- 
 commonly wise, 
 Was the first who attempted to outline 
 the plan ! 
 
 He thought it would be a nice thing to 
 achieve 
 Some signal of danger to tell of the foe ! 
 And the growl of some beast was the first, 
 I believe, 
 To hint, how from that source a Lan- 
 guage might grow. 
 
 * Note. — It does not appear altogether incredible, that some 
 unusually wise, ape-like animal, should have thought of imitat- 
 ing the growl of a beast of prey ; so as to indicate the nature of 
 the expected danger. And this would have been the first step 
 in formation of a language." Ibid. Vol. 1, p. 55. 
 
S6 LETTER. 
 
 It didn't seem much. But as Ape after Ape 
 Worked away at the thing, perhaps it 
 
 might be 
 That this germ of Language might grow 
 
 to such shape, 
 As to please e'en a Shakspeare or Milton 
 
 you see. 
 
 And now, Is there anything further required 
 To show how these new lights break out 
 into flame ? 
 Yes ! The truth is that hunger itself was 
 acquired, 
 To give us the pleasure of feeding the 
 same ! * 
 
 I know it seems strange ! But the reason 
 for that is, 
 You've gone on so long, without using 
 the light ; 
 That now, when you get all these fine teach- 
 ings, gratis, 
 You're almost too timid to take in the 
 sight ? 
 
 " x " NOTE. " In the same manner, as the sense of hunger and 
 the pleasure of eating were, no doubt, first acquired ; in order 
 to induce animals to eat." Ibid, p. 77. 
 
L E TT E R . 
 
 87 
 
 But as for myself, I must tell you, my dear, 
 / mean to hold on to the old-fashioned 
 Creed ; 
 For these New Lights of Science burn 
 dimly I fear, 
 When set up in seasons of darkness and 
 need. 
 
 There's nothing that teaches so truly to 
 live : 
 There's nothing that fits us so sweetly 
 to die ; 
 There's nothing such fullness of blessings 
 can give, 
 As the wisdom the truths about Jesus 
 supply ! 
 
 For they arch every lot with a glory divine, 
 And a radiance excelling the Bow from 
 above ; 
 As they teach us, in weakness and want to 
 recline, 
 Like a babe on the bosom of Infinite 
 Love ! 
 
A LESSON OF FAITH. 
 
 A LESSON OF FAITH, 
 
 T. 
 
 'Twas a cold December morning, 
 And the air was filled with sleet : 
 
 And the wind was surging fiercely, 
 
 Down the glazed and ice-bound street; 
 
 When I heard a gentle tapping, 
 Mid the dashing of the rain ; 
 
 As if something asked assistance, 
 Tapping on my window-pane ! 
 Tapping ; tapping ; gently tapping : 
 Tapping on my window-pane ! 
 
 I looked ; and right before me, 
 
 A little sparrow stood. 
 And he turned his bright eye on me, 
 
 In mute appeal for food ; 
 He was not long in waiting ; 
 
 Nor did he ask in vain ! 
 For I yearned to help the lone one, 
 
 Tapping on my window-pane : 
 
APPLE BLOSSOMS. 89 
 
 Tapping ; tapping ; gently tapping ; 
 Tapping on my window-pane ! 
 
 And I'll think when storms are round me, 
 And I shrink before the blast ; 
 
 Of a glorious place of Refuge, 
 That will shield me to the last ! 
 
 And the sparrow still shall teach me ; 
 As I hear the low refrain, 
 
 Of his bold, yet gentle, tapping ; 
 Tapping on my window-pane : 
 Tapping ; tapping ; gently tapping : 
 Tapping on my window-pane ! 
 
 APPLE-BLOSSOMS. 
 
 I'm standing by the old Tree, Ned ! 
 
 The same Old Apple-Tree : 
 Where you and I together, played, 
 
 When our young life was free ! 
 And Memory, through the mist of years, 
 
 And wanderings, to and fro; 
 5* 
 
g APPLE BLOSSOMS. 
 
 Brings back again the smiles and tears 
 Of Forty Years ago ! 
 
 There, is the School- House down the lane ; 
 
 The grove of Chestnuts nigh it ; 
 The Stile, the Meadows and the Brook, 
 
 And the old Spring-House nigh it. 
 The little Brook runs, rippling, by 
 
 The path we used to go : 
 And sings, with silvery tone, its song 
 
 Of Forty Years ago ! 
 
 The Tree is gnarled and moss-grown, 
 Ned! 
 
 That was so vig'rous then. 
 For Time, its marks on it has spread, 
 
 As well as on us, men. 
 But yet, its blossoms are as bright, 
 
 And make as fair a show, 
 As when we plucked them, with delight, 
 
 Just Forty Years ago ! 
 
 It's strange, that there should be so much 
 Of thought's most subtle power. 
 
 Awakened by the electric touch, 
 Of this most simple flower ! 
 
THE DAY OF THE LORD. 9I 
 
 For there — I pluck it from its bough ; 
 
 And now — before I know — 
 I'm living o'er again the scenes, 
 
 Of Forty Years ago ! 
 
 THE DAY OF THE LORD. 
 
 For the Day of the Lord will come as a thief in the 
 
 night. ' 
 
 Oh, the Lord will come ! Let His saints 
 rejoice : 
 For He cometh to take them Home : 
 As they sleep in the dust, they shall hear 
 His voice, 
 When the promised Hour has come. 
 They shall rise from the dead, with a noise- 
 less tread, 
 As its accents reach their ear : 
 But the world around, shall hear no sound, 
 And see no cause of fear. 
 
 Oh, to the soul that trusts His Word, 
 A glorious hope is the Coming Lord! 
 
9 2 THE DAY OF THE LORD. 
 
 The Lord will come as a thief in the night; 
 
 And His work shall be going on, 
 And by those alone that watch for the light, 
 
 Shall his working thus be known ! 
 From the worldling's side, shall the Chris- 
 tian Bride, 
 Be noiselessly taken away ; 
 And two, at the mill, shall be grinding still, 
 
 And but one shall see the day. 
 As Enoch was sought for, but was not found, 
 
 So shall the righteous be : 
 For them, on the earth, or under the 
 ground, 
 No more shall the worldling see. 
 From their place of rest, on the mountain's 
 crest, 
 Or scattered like dust, on the sod : 
 With the living saints there, caught up in 
 the air, 
 To meet with their Saviour and God ; 
 Coming to fulfill His Word, 
 Oh, a glorious hope is the Coming 
 Lord! 
 
 The Lord will come ; and there by His 
 side, 
 
THE DAY OF THE LORD. 
 
 93 
 
 Shall His waiting people stand ; 
 Sharing His state, as His Chosen Bride, 
 
 A bright and a happy band. 
 He comes, with the angel's terrible voice, 
 With the shout and the trump of God : 
 And the heavens are bent in His swift 
 descent, 
 To the earth, which His feet had trod. 
 Oh, Woe to His foes, on that Day of His 
 wrath ; 
 And Woe to the Man of Sin ! 
 For Judgment shall swiftly sweep down on 
 His path, 
 And the Day of the Lord begin. 
 And thro' the long sweep of its thousand 
 years, 
 Shall His glorious reign extend : 
 And His Kingdom of Peace shall go on to 
 increase, 
 Till it's lost in the aoe without end! 
 Oh ! to the soul that slights His Word, 
 A fearful thought is the Coming Lord ! 
 
94 WAIT AWEEL AND DINNA WEARY, 
 
 "WAIT AWEEL AND DINNA 
 WEARY." 
 
 {Scotch Proverb.) 
 
 " Wait aw eel a 1 id dinna weary" 
 
 Though the night be cold and long. 
 If the early dawn be dreary, 
 
 Every morn has its own song. 
 Winter brings its snows and tempests, 
 
 But they do not beat in vain ; 
 Spring and Summer show for answer, 
 
 Smiling flowers and ripening grain. 
 
 " Wait aweel and dinna weary" 
 
 Though the sky be overcast. 
 If the Harvest seems to tarry, 
 
 Thou shalt bind the sheaves at last. 
 Sow in sunlight, nothing doubting ; 
 
 Sow in hope of things to come : 
 And the Angel Reapers, shouting, 
 
 Soon shall sing the Harvest Home ! 
 
THE CIRCLE OF BLESSINGS. 95 
 
 THE CIRCLE OF BLESSINGS. 
 
 " And it shall come to pass, saith the Lord, I 7l>HI 
 hear saith the Lord, I will hear the heavens, and they 
 shall hear the earth ; 
 
 " And the earth shall hear the earn, and the wine 
 and the oil ; and they shall hear Jezreel." — Hosea ii : 
 21, 22. 
 
 Creation's avast Harp ; and all the moods, 
 
 That over it are straying ; 
 Are but the echoes of the interludes 
 
 God's Hand on it is playing. 
 
 Nought stands alone. Each creature 
 makes reply, 
 
 To other creature's pleading ; 
 And round the Universe, there floats the cry 
 
 Of all that it is needing. 
 
 The silent cry. Its needis still, the speech, 
 
 With which it tells its story ; 
 And every blade of grass, with this, can 
 reach 
 
 The clouds in far-off glory ! 
 
9 6 THE CIRCLE OF BLESSINGS. 
 
 The violet whispers with its sweetest smiles, 
 
 Its inmost wants revealing ; 
 The sunbeam, journeying on its myriad 
 miles, 
 
 Answers their mute appealing. 
 
 The Corn stands, priest-like, with uplifted 
 hands, 
 
 For needed showers beseeching ; 
 The parched Earth responds to its demands, 
 
 In sympathy far-reaching. 
 
 The heavens receive their prayer; and He 
 who sits 
 
 Enthroned above their splendor ; 
 In His divine compassion, ne'er omits 
 
 The needed aid to render, 
 
 And when it comes, He sends it. For His 
 ear 
 
 Attends their wordless crying ; 
 And every creature, in its need, is near 
 
 To Him those needs supplying. 
 
 Sunshine and shade ; and storm and dew 
 and rain, 
 
THE CIRCLE OF BLESSINGS. gj 
 
 Each His Commission bearing ; 
 Come as His witnesses, and not in vain 
 Are they His power declaring. 
 
 Creation thus, with eloquent appeal, 
 
 On God is still depending ! 
 And all its hidden processes reveal, 
 
 How He His help is sending! 
 
 Thus Prayer and Answer ; Need and its 
 Supply, 
 
 Like Rainbow colors meeting, 
 Circle the Universe, unceasingly 
 
 With God and Nature's Greeting! 
 
 Faith looks above ; and in the strong 
 appeal, 
 All things to God have spoken, 
 Sets down, with strong assurance to its 
 seal, 
 His word can ne'er be broken ! 
 
9 8 WAITING. 
 
 WAITING. 
 
 ' ' / wait for the Lord. '' 
 
 I am waiting, only waiting ; 
 
 Waiting, Lord, to know Thy will. 
 Waiting 'mid the clouds and darkness, 
 
 For thy quiet, u Peace f be still!" 
 I am waiting, only waiting, 
 
 Waiting, Lord, upon Thee still ! 
 
 Dark the night has closed around me, 
 And I do not see my way : 
 
 But I wait. For Thine appearing 
 Turns the darkness into day. 
 
 And I'm waiting — simply waiting- 
 Waiting for its faintest ray ! 
 
 'g» 
 
 To the hills mine eyes I'm liftini 
 
 Whence the morning comes to view ; 
 
 And the midnight clouds in drifting, 
 Let the struggling brightness through. 
 
 And I'm waiting, only waiting, 
 Till its radiance reach me too ! 
 
THE EVENING PRIMROSE. 99 
 
 While I wait new vigor fires me, 
 
 Like the Eagle's in its flight : 
 And a heavenly zeal inspires me, 
 
 With a sweet, new-born delight ; 
 
 And in waiting, simply waiting, 
 
 Darkness kindles into light! 
 
 THE EVENING PRIMROSE. 
 
 Content to shine V the dark. 
 
 It was a splendid specimen of the Even- 
 ing Primrose. — Oenothera biennis grandi- 
 flora. — The Gardener had nursed it with 
 great care ; for the Mistress of the House 
 desired to show it, in full beauty, to some 
 friends from the City. And it seemed 
 now to have attained the limits of primrose 
 perfection. For it stood, a large, fully- 
 developed bush, upwards of four feet high, 
 and, with its vigorous branches and dark 
 green leaves, attesting its strong and 
 healthful life ! 
 
 It was a sight to delight the eye, as the 
 shades of a dewy evening in July, gathered 
 
ioo THE EVENING PRIMROSE. 
 
 over the landscape. There it stood, with 
 a score of branches, laden with blossoms, 
 some fully expanded ; others preparing to 
 open, as if trembling with joyous impa- 
 tience ; and others again in less advanced 
 stages of growth. See that one! Its 
 gracefully slender cone seems to feel the 
 touch of fairy fingers. Is that a motion f 
 Yes ! And a motion you can almost hear, 
 as first one calyx springs back, and then, 
 in a moment or two, another and another. 
 Then, one petal of the exquisitely delicate 
 straw-colored flower slightly unfolds, and 
 then another lifts itself up from the circling 
 fold in which it had been wrapped. And 
 then, with deliberate, yet sudden spring, 
 the flower bursts into full bloom — as if an 
 imprisoned spirit had come forth into the 
 free air! What a delicate perfume fills 
 the air ! And now the Bush seems alive 
 with conscious Life, and to rejoice in the 
 number and the beauty of its flowers ! 
 
 But darkness was spreading over the 
 scene. And as it deepened, the voice of 
 one of the Visitors was heard saying, 
 " What is the use of this ? Why should 
 
THE EVENING PRIMROSE, tot 
 
 all this beauty be for the night, when no 
 one can see or enjoy it ?" 
 
 And there seemed to come a soft and 
 tremulous tone as from one of the opening 
 flowers, shaping itself thus : 
 
 11 Perhaps, it is not so useless after all. 
 There are more creatures to enjoy our 
 beauty than you think. And. a thousand 
 eyes are open for us, when yours are shut. 
 And our beautiful Night Moth will hover 
 gently over us, and grow strong with the 
 sweets he will steal from us. And the 
 Moon will see us ; and the Stars will look 
 down upon us ; and we shall see their 
 imao-e in every drop of dew. And better 
 than all this, He who made us what we 
 are, will see us. For He made us to 
 bloom in the night — and it's pleasant to be 
 always bright for Him /" 
 
 And the Mistress of the House seemed 
 to know the gentle voice, and said, as she 
 lingered a moment by the side of the bush, 
 "The little Flower is truly wise. For, to 
 fill cheerfully and lovingly, the sphere 
 that He appoints, is to make the darkest 
 
i0 2 IN TIM A T/ONS. 
 
 night pleasant, and the gloomiest lot bright 
 with His smile !" 
 
 INTIMATIONS. 
 
 " Hence, in a season of calm weather, 
 Though inland far we be, 
 Our souls have sight of that Immortal Sea ! 
 
 — Wordsworth. 
 
 It's not alone the thing we see, 
 But that which stands behind it, 
 
 That makes the subtle harmony, 
 Of Nature as we find it. 
 
 The Seen is but the changing hue 
 Of what no change retaineth ; 
 
 And Faith but lets the glory through. 
 On darkness that remaineth. 
 
 It needs two worlds to make the chords 
 
 Of Nature's music finest; 
 And e'en the hints in thoughts and words, 
 
 Attest it the divinest ! 
 
 By that which is within us, we 
 Interpret all without us ; 
 
IN T I M A TIONS. 103 
 
 And by its subtle harmony, 
 Make Day or Night about us ! 
 
 The glory of the sunset sky 
 In its most changing splendor, 
 
 Awakens thoughts nor you nor I, 
 Nor any one can render ! 
 
 But in the soul, these. thoughts have place, 
 As in the Cloud, the Lightning; 
 
 They come ; they shine ; but leave no trace 
 Of all their gentle bright'ning. 
 
 The grandeur is not in the storm, 
 
 But in the spirit's feeling ; 
 And grace and beauty both conform 
 
 Themselves to its revealing. 
 
 For outward thin ops are but the test 
 
 o 
 
 Of what within is moving ; 
 And what we are, is half confess'd, 
 By that which they are proving ! 
 
 An island in a boundless sea, 
 
 Whose waves are ever sounding 
 
 The deep notes of Infinity, 
 
 Ourselves and all surrounding, 
 
Io 4 INTIMATIONS. 
 
 Is what we are, as wond'ringly, 
 We question things around us. 
 
 We question ; but there's no reply, 
 Beyond the lines that bound us ! 
 
 And then, as with a sense of wings, 
 What strange emotions move us ; 
 
 As Thought ; the callow nestling, springs 
 To mount to things above us ! 
 
 We own the far-off influence 
 
 Our inner-selves revealing ; 
 And thrill beneath the subtle sense 
 
 Of Nature's mute appealing! 
 
 And thus we stand with two-fold Life, 
 
 Mid hostile demonstrations ; 
 Kindred to both sides in the strife, 
 
 By Birth and Inclination ! 
 
 We feel the touch of Love divine, 
 
 But yield not to its wooing ; 
 We see where Truth and Right combine, 
 
 The False and Wrong pursuing ! 
 
 And never shall we feel the thrill 
 Of Truth's best ministrations ; 
 
THE LILIES OF THE FIELD, i G ; 
 
 Till Jesus, with His love shall fill 
 Our spirits' inspirations. 
 
 Then, when we find Him as our Life, 
 We find our True Life in Him ; 
 
 And cease from all our earthly strife, 
 To know Him and to win Him ! 
 
 THE LILIES OF THE FIELD. 
 
 i. 
 
 Oh ! The Lilies of the field ! 
 How sweet the truths they yield, 
 As they sparkle in the sunshine and the 
 • dew ! 
 How they quiver with delight, 
 In the morning's balmy light, 
 With a beauty, ever constant ever new ! 
 How they hide among the grass, 
 All unnoticed, as we pass ; 
 Till their fragrance shows the place, 
 Where they lift their smiling face ; 
 And they shine 
 With a glory all divine ; 
 
io 6 THE LILIES OF THE FIELD. 
 
 Such as kings in all their splendor never 
 knew. 
 
 2. 
 
 Consider how they grow ! 
 Hid away among the snow 
 
 Not a sign of all their beauty, can we trace! 
 For while Winter rules amain, 
 With his storm and sleet and rain ; 
 Or bends the leafless trees, 
 To the moaning of the breeze ; 
 
 They are sleeping, in their own appointed 
 place, 
 
 To the meaning and the groaning of the 
 breeze ! 
 But the South-wind comes to look, 
 By the hedge-rows and the brook, 
 
 For its beauties of the upland and the plain ; 
 And they feel its subtle glow, 
 Through the yet dissolving snow ; 
 And its thrill 
 
 Seems to banish all their chill ; 
 And they lift their opening eyes, 
 With a sweet and glad surprise 
 
 As they whisper, We have come to you again! 
 
THE LILIES OF THE FLELD, t oJ 
 
 Consider how they grow ! 
 For, while Winter's tempests blow, 
 They are safe from all the terrors of the 
 storm ! 
 But, when its cold and gloom, 
 Give place to Spring-time bloom, 
 What hand shall safely guard their fragile 
 form ? 
 In the garden or parterre, 
 They may bloom in safety. There, 
 No traveller's foot may tread 
 
 On the plume, 
 As it lifts its tender head 
 In the glad anticipation, and the joyous 
 expectation 
 Of its bloom ; 
 When its fast approaching birth 
 Shall lift it from the earth 
 In the glory of its beauty and perfume. 
 So, they stand within their lot ; 
 And its dangers fright them not ! 
 For He who bade them stow, 
 In their own way makes them know 
 He is near ; 
 
to g THE LILIES OF I BE FIELD. 
 
 And He comes down in the Sunbeam and 
 the Dew 
 The fainting ones to cheer 
 And the weakest in their vigor to renew ! 
 
 4- 
 
 Consider how they grow ! 
 And let the truths, they teach 
 In most persuasive speech, 
 Sink in your hearts and grow, 
 Like the bulb beneath the snow 
 Preparing for its blooming in the Spring ! 
 So shall a richer bloom, 
 And a heavenlier perfume 
 Shed their beauty and their fragrance 
 round your way. 
 And the peace of God shall shine, 
 With a radiance all divine ; 
 And from darkness bring the glories of 
 the day ! 
 
THE SOURCE OF FLLLNESS. I0 g 
 
 THE SOURCE OF FULLNESS. 
 
 "Of His fullness have all we received." 
 
 The Garden was radiant in its lovliness. 
 Every flower that could delight the eye, 
 with its beauty, or fill the air with its fra- 
 grance, was there in the fullness of its 
 charms. There was the Violet, hiding 
 away among the grass. There was the 
 Lily, in its queenly beauty; the Rose in its 
 graceful splendor; and the Achillea, bend- 
 ing down with its wealth of pure, white, 
 daisy-like flowers. And running vines, and 
 stately, plants, and thrifty shrubbery, with 
 flowers of every variety of hue, combined 
 to form a scene, which attracted the gaze 
 of every passer-by ! 
 
 The Sun was just declining in the West ; 
 and his fading beams, rested as if for a 
 parting gaze, on Tree and Bush and 
 Flower, that had rejoiced in his presence 
 through the day. 
 
 11 How wonderful is this," — said the Big- 
 
HO THE SOURCE OF FULLNESS. 
 
 nonia ; as having climbed to the top of his 
 Cross-like pole, he rested there his wealth 
 of brilliant orange-colored corollas — a 
 perfect blaze of floral luxuriance and 
 beauty. " How wonderful this is ! Some 
 one must have thought of all this ! For 
 these flowers could never have made 
 themselves ! Some one must have thought 
 it all out ! But where did he get all these 
 beautiful colors? " And soon a faint and 
 spirit-like voice seemed to rise up from a 
 cluster of sweet-scented violets, near the 
 root of the Bignonia, and said : 
 
 " I think just where you got yours ! " 
 The Bignonia seemed to shake its 
 clusters of brilliant flowers in great sur- 
 prise, as it said : 
 
 " What is that you are saying, Little 
 One ? " 
 
 " I was saying," returned the Violet, 
 " that all the flowers get their colors just 
 where you get yours. There is no diffe- 
 rence." 
 
 " And where, pray, did I get mine ? " 
 "I think," answered the Violet, "we all 
 get our colors from the Sun." 
 
THE SOURCE OF FULLNESS. m 
 
 " And what do you know about the Sun ; 
 shut up there, as you are in the grass ? If 
 you could only, just for once, get up here 
 where I am, you might be able to talk 
 about the Sun ! But down there where 
 one can hardly see you, — why the thing is 
 too absurd ! " 
 
 "I dare say it is," meekly replied the 
 Violet ; while its blue eye seemed to glisten 
 with the moisture of a tear. " I only know 
 what I have been told by one who knows 
 very well ! " 
 
 11 And what were you told ? And who 
 told you ? " 
 
 "Why," replied the Violet, "as my 
 Mistress comes in the twilight to gather a 
 bunch of my flowers ; I often hear her 
 say, " How wonderful it is that these 
 flowers get their beautiful colors from the 
 Sun!" : 
 
 "Well," said the Bignonia, "I hope 
 her knowledge is better than her taste. 
 For she never gathers any of my flowers 
 into the bunches, she is so fond of col- 
 lecting ! But I would like to know how 
 we all get our colors from the Sun? I 
 
U2 THE SOURCE OF FULLNESS. 
 
 never saw a sunbeam of your color, or of 
 the Lily of the Valley, or of the Scarlet 
 Rose, or of the Purple of the Fuschia ! 
 And don't you know how very far the Sun 
 is from us? Why, I heard young Master 
 read in a Book, that the Sun was ninety- 
 five millions of miles away from us ? 
 Though to be sure, I've not got the faintest 
 idea of what that means ! But it must be 
 a very great way off? especially down 
 there to you ! And do you suppose the 
 Sun cares, what color you have ; or whether 
 you have any at all ? " 
 
 "I don't know anything about that," 
 meekly responded the Violet, "I was only 
 saying what Mistress said; and I am sure 
 she knows all about it! And it must be 
 true ; because when its beams come to me 
 in the morning ; something within me, 
 makes me feel that its my Sun ; and comes 
 all that long, long way, to tell me what no 
 other flower could understand — because 
 no other flower is the Violet ! And there- 
 fore the Sun couldn't be to it, what it is to 
 me ! And then a voice within me, cries 
 out ' Oh, my Sun ! How beautiful Thou 
 
THE SOUCE OF FULLNESS. 113 
 
 art ! ' And that makes me so glad, that I 
 cannot help opening my leaves, to take it 
 all in ; and breathing my thanks in the 
 very sweetest breath, I have ! And Mis- 
 tress says there is something inside every 
 plant — Nature I think she calls it — that 
 makes each one capable of just its own 
 color; and getting that color from the 
 Sunbeam by somehow working it up into 
 its substance ; and then showing it in its 
 leaves ! " 
 
 Just then, the Youthful Mistress of the 
 House, came by, and stooping down to 
 gather a bunch of her favorite flowers, 
 said, as she placed them in her bosom : 
 
 " You are right, Little One ! The color 
 
 of every flower, is first in the Sun. And 
 
 there is something in every plant, that 
 
 makes it choose that color. And the 
 
 Flower takes the sunbeam into its bosom 
 
 — its very inner-self — and works out from 
 
 them, the sweet breath of the Lily ; the 
 
 bright hues of the Bignonia ; and the 
 
 lovely colors of our little Violet! They 
 
 were all in the Sun, before they were made 
 
 the special marks of the Flower. And so," 
 6* 
 
H 4 M Y H \ A C I N TH. 
 
 she added, — reverently bowing her head, 
 and speaking in a subdued, yet rejoicing 
 voice — " we who believe in Jesus, find in 
 Him, more than the Flower finds in the 
 Sun. In Him, all fullness dwells. And we 
 are complete in Him ; and draw from Him 
 the grace, we need for every day's work 
 and duty. We have it all in Hun ! " 
 
 MY HYACINTH, 
 
 " Come ! tell me now, whence this Flower stole all 
 this beauty ; or cease your prating." 
 
 I held the Bulb in my open hand — 
 And it did seem hard to understand, 
 How, from that rough, unsightly thing, 
 A form of glorious life could spring ! 
 I could trace no outwand mark to show 
 What wealth of Beauty lurked below ; 
 Nor the faintest perfume on the air, 
 To tell what fragrance slumbered there 
 
 But I buried it deep ; and o'er its head. 
 Stores of richest earth o'erspread. 
 
M Y II V A C I N T II . 115 
 
 And I hid it away in a darkened room, 
 Shut out for weeks from the Sun and Air; 
 
 And you could not dream from that mid- 
 night gloom, 
 That the germ of a Beautiful Life was 
 there ! 
 
 But the Law of that Life, with its mystic 
 power, 
 
 Moved in each part of the future flower ; 
 
 And it soon began, through the soil below, 
 
 Delicate, thread-like roots to throw. 
 
 And it was not long, ere I could tell, 
 
 From the break that came, in the gentle 
 swell 
 
 Of the soil above it, that, rising there, 
 
 Was a stem that asked for sun and air. 
 
 And it threw the earth from its delicate 
 head ; 
 
 And its roots, in thick'ning clusters spread ; 
 
 And its stem to a stately column grew, 
 With swelling buds on its tapering crest ; 
 
 And its perfumed stores of deep'ning blue, 
 Were gathering strength in its rounding 
 breast. 
 
 And here it stands ! How passing strange, 
 
Ii6 M Y H Y A C I N TH . 
 
 The power that wrought this wondrous 
 
 change ! 
 That brought this beauty into bloom ; 
 That breathed around, this rich perfume ; 
 And opened up this glad surprise 
 Of Life and Fragrance to mine eyes ! 
 
 " Not strange at all /" — a voice replied ; 
 
 Which seemed in its soft and silvery tone, 
 To come from the Floweret, by my side — 
 
 " Not strange at all ! " Its the Life alone, 
 Which, lodged unseen, within my breast, 
 Sends out these roots ; erects this crest ; 
 Breathes out this fragrance ; and displays 
 This wealth of beauty to your gaze. 
 I cannot tell how this can be ; 
 But, Oh ! it is easier far for me, 
 To yield this soft, this rich perfume 
 Than to slumber on in my living Tomb. 
 The Law of my Life explains it all !" 
 
 And the sweet, low'accents died away ; 
 But I heard, as I thought, in their dying 
 fall, 
 A voice, from within, that seemed to say, 
 
 "The Flower speaks truth. For, in all 
 that live, 
 
SILENT SYMPATHY* JI7 
 
 Is the unseen germ of blessing or bane : 
 And whatever we are, we only give, 
 
 An outward form to that life again. 
 Look to it well, that yours may bloom 
 Sweetly as flowers that spring from the 
 sod ; 
 And open its beauty, and rich perfume, 
 In blessings to Man, and in praises to 
 God !" 
 
 SILENT SYMPATHY. 
 
 Would you desire better sympathy /" — Shakespeare. 
 
 My heart was filled with sorrow, 
 
 And my head was bowed with grief; 
 And I looked, in vain, around me, 
 
 For comfort and relief. 
 God forgive me, in my darkness, 
 
 That I saw not what to do ; 
 When His loving arms were round me, 
 
 All the same as if I knew ! 
 
 I did not know who did it, 
 
 For the Form I could not see ; 
 
n8 THE LESSON OF 7 HE WEED, 
 
 But an unknown Friend, in passing, 
 Laid some violets on my knee. 
 
 And their sweet breath stole around me 
 Ere I knew that they were there ; 
 
 And \felt their silent presence, 
 Both a Blessing and a Prayer ! 
 
 And the Blessing entered in me, 
 
 In thoughts that whispered Peace ! 
 And the Prayer returned upon me, 
 
 And bade my doubtings cease ; 
 For, from their sun-lit faces 
 
 Came a Voice I thought I knew — 
 Will not the God that made us thus, 
 
 Comfort and care for you f 
 
 THE LESSON OF THE WEED. 
 
 A PARABLE. 
 
 The Gardener was gathering a mess of 
 Strawberries for the Lady of the House ; 
 and smiled in gratification at the display of 
 large and luscious berries which his vines 
 produced. But a shade of irritation passed 
 
THE LESSON 01- THE WEED. 119 
 
 over his face, as he impatiently plucked up 
 the weeds, which persisted in growing in 
 the very midst of his choicest plants ! As 
 he was thus engaged, a low voice seemed 
 to issue from a strong and vigorous Knot- 
 weed {Polygonum), which he had just 
 thrown out on the path : 
 
 " Why do you pluck me up and cast me 
 aside so contemptuously ?" said the Weed. 
 
 "Why do I cast you aside ?" replied the 
 Gardener. " Because you are unfit to be 
 here. You are only a troublesome weed /" 
 
 "But I grew here," answered the Poly- 
 gonum. " I stand in the same soil ; grow 
 in the same sun, and share the same nour- 
 ishment with the plants you cherish so 
 carefully." 
 
 "I know that," replied the Gardener, 
 "but what do you give in return? See 
 these berries ! How large and rich and 
 beautiful they are ; How they repay my 
 care ! But you are only a miserable weed ; 
 a cumberer of the ground ; stealing away 
 from them the nourishment I meant them 
 to have!" 
 
 " I know 1 am only a weed : but I am 
 
120 THE LESSON OF THE WEED. 
 
 what I was made. I was not asked to 
 choose whether I would be a weed or a 
 strawberry plant. Do you suppose they 
 had any choice in the matter at all ?" 
 
 " Well, candidly, I don't believe they had. 
 They were just made strawberry-plants; 
 and couldn't be anything else." 
 
 " Then," said the Polygonum, looking 
 up into- his face with the deepest earnest- 
 ness, " don't you think I deserve some 
 consideration at your hands?" 
 
 "Consideration ! What consideration? 
 What would the Mistress say to me, if I 
 was to take a lot of you weeds along with 
 the strawberries for dinner ?" 
 
 "And then," said the Polygonum— as if 
 not hearing what the Gardener had said 
 last — "you don't know how hard I have 
 tried to bear just such berries as those : 
 but the harder I try, the bigger weed 
 I get to be !" 
 
 "I suppose you do. But the truth is, 
 you know, you can never get to be any- 
 thing but a zveed, no matter how hard you 
 try. It's just the inside nature coming out; 
 and yours is the weed nature all through; 
 
THE LESSON OF THE WEED. l2 j 
 
 and you might just as well give up trying 
 to be anything else !" 
 
 "Well," said the Polygonum, despond- 
 ently, "It may be all right, but I can't see 
 the justice of making me what I am, and 
 then punishing me for being so ! " 
 
 " No. I do not suppose you can. But 
 let me tell you, that the doom of law is 
 upon us all. Things low down in Creation 
 are made to represent the condition of 
 beings in the higher ranks of its order. 
 And so it comes to pass that certain things 
 — weeds for example — which, by no act of 
 choice are what they are, serve in their 
 character and doom as parables of the 
 state and end of beings, who choose the 
 evil and reject the good. And so, hard as 
 your lot may stem, you are really one of 
 the Creator's ministering servants ; who 
 shows us, even by His lowliest works that 
 for His higher creatures, there is no 
 honor, but that which springs from a choice 
 of the good for itself alone. !" 
 
122 WE LOVED HIM, BECAUSE 
 
 "WE LOVE HIM, BECAUSE HE 
 FIRST LOVED US." 
 
 When did He love us? Who can tell 
 
 What time this "first" began? 
 Or, to its source trace back the ocean 
 swell 
 Of this great love to Man ? 
 Before Creation's birth ; 
 Or angels o'er this new-made earth 
 Shouted for joy; God's thoughts of grace 
 Held then as now, unchanged their place. 
 Far back through everlasting years, 
 The purpose of His love appears. 
 Creation's work it underlies ; 
 It reared the earth ; it arched the skies. 
 It was ; and all things else appear, 
 To make its glorious purpose clear. 
 
 How did He love us? With a love, 
 Like His own nature, full and free ; 
 
 Yearning for all who live to prove 
 Its fullness everlastingly. 
 
 His Love, diffusive as the Light, 
 
 Acts unrestrained, to scatter Night, 
 
HE FIRST LOVED US. 123 
 
 And Sin and Darkness all away. 
 You cannot hedge it in, or draw 
 Restriction round it. For its law 
 Is always, everywhere, to shine, 
 In all things free ; in all divine ; 
 
 And imaged in the perfect day. 
 For when in grace to Man He moves 
 His nature acts : His nature loves. 
 Loves like Himself, prepared to give 
 
 Himself in blessing to the lost, 
 Their guilt and ruin to retrieve ; 
 
 And save them at whatever cost ! 
 
 Why did He love us ? Oh ! as well, 
 May we the Morning's secret tell ! 
 For, as the Light responsive springs 
 
 To turn the darkness into day ; 
 Love, conscious of our wanderings, 
 
 Goes forth to meet us on our way : 
 Enters our lost estate and brines 
 Life and Salvation on its wings. 
 It seeks not from our ill desert, 
 
 To save itself from toil and cost ; 
 But stoops, e'en to its deadly hurt, 
 
 If thus it may redeem the lost ; 
 Carries our griefs; unmurmeringly 
 
i 2 4 CONNECTICUT FA RMEF? S PRO TES T 
 
 Charges itself with all our loss ; 
 Anticipates Gethsemane, 
 
 And walks unflinching to the Cross ! 
 And thus He loved us. Thus the Law 
 Of His great love is still to draw 
 All creatures to Himself that He 
 The source of their true life may be ! 
 
 THE CONNECTICUT FARMER'S 
 PROTEST AGAINST THE MUM- 
 MERIES OF RITUALISM. 
 
 Draw it mild ye High Church fellers ! 
 
 Ye're a hi filutin set, 
 Ef ye think we'll blow your bellers, 
 
 Jest to hev you'r irons het. 
 Folks 'ud think to see you Sundays, 
 
 Sucking doves warn't sweeter'n you ! 
 Them as chance to meet you Mondays, 
 
 Hev to change their pint o' view. 
 
 Wot's the use of genytiexions 
 
 Ef the heart stands bolt upright? 
 Better 'tend the Lord's directions, 
 
AGAINST MIMUERIES OF RITUALISM. 1 25 
 
 Kind o' humbly in His sight ! 
 Priests and altar cloths and candles, 
 
 Albs and chasubles and stoles ; 
 Wot's the use of sich-like fixins, 
 
 In the work o' savin souls ? 
 
 Efye saves 'em ? That's a pint on 
 
 Wich there's lots o' folks like me, 
 Find theirselves quite out o' jint on, 
 
 All as touches that idee ! 
 'Cos it's jest es true as preachin' 
 
 Thet ye're Ritchelistic ways ; 
 Don't find no support of teachin' 
 
 In the twelve Apostles' days ! 
 
 You bet Paul warn't ketched intonin' 
 
 When men axed, Wot shall we do ? 
 It might cost him stripes or stonin' — 
 
 'Twern't no matter ! Clear and true 
 Cum forth his answer — alius tight'ning 
 
 On men's consciences an' pride ; 
 Them as was afeard o' lightnin', 
 
 Found they hed to stand aside ! 
 
 You don't fix things that ere fashion : 
 Hev ye grit enough for that ? 
 
I2 6 CONNECTICUT FARMER'S PROTESl 
 
 Introits ; abserlutions ; crossings ; 
 
 Them s the things ye fix up pat ! 
 Wall, ye might ez well knock under — 
 
 Cos ye've got to learn a power, 
 Ef ye think sich home-made thunder 
 
 Ever'll turn our skim-milk sour. 
 
 And ye boast that ye can mount up, 
 
 To the 'postles' times agen, 
 By the links that some folks count up — 
 
 — Don't hang much by that ere chain. 
 Coz it's clean agin all reason, 
 
 That the grace o' God can be 
 Tuck as some folks take the measles ; 
 
 From the hands of A. to B. 
 
 Tain't the way God makes His Preachers. 
 
 Paul warn't made so, nor was John. 
 An' they head a line o' teachers, 
 
 Ye haint much improved upon. 
 Think o' them in lawn and satin 
 
 Bishop's sleeves, an' chairs o' state ! 
 Guess the things ye seem so pat in, 
 
 Wouldn't pass with them for great. 
 
 Yet, ye be the True Church — be ye ? 
 And with angry thoughts pursue, 
 
AGAINST MUMMERIES OE RITUALISM. 127 
 
 Them as tell the old, old story, 
 
 'Coz they foller not with you. 
 Jest ye ask our Nance that question — 
 
 Gosh if she don't make ye see 
 There's no mite o' ground to rest on, 
 
 For sich Romanish idee. 
 
 Summon back the Lord's first preachers ; 
 
 Let .hem answer that ere claim, 
 Call the Martyrs for your teachers, 
 
 Ez they feel the scorchin' flame ; 
 An' with trumpet tones they'll tell you, 
 
 That the Church of Christ must be, 
 — Like the Lord thet died to save it — 
 
 One, unbroken unity. 
 
 Not in outward rites an' shaders ; 
 
 Not in outward eny thing ; 
 By the unseen grace that gushes 
 
 Down, from Life's eternal spring. 
 One, in hope of coming glory ; 
 
 One, in Faith thet works by Love ; 
 One, in thet same old, old story 
 
 Of the Lord's Incarnate Love! 
 
 Ho ! ye Ritchelist'c teachers ! 
 Set the trumpet to your mouth; 
 
t 2 8 AS THE FATHER HATH LOVED ME, 
 
 Ring it out like all Creation, 
 
 East an' West an' North an' South- 
 Let yere livin' members hear it, 
 
 Tell it o'er yere sleepin' dead, 
 It's a Livin' Faith that jines us, 
 
 Onto Christ, the Livin' Head ! 
 
 By the martyr-fires that light you, 
 
 Ez ye trace the ages back ; 
 By the glorious names thet greet you 
 
 All along your onward track ; 
 Cast away your Romish fixins, 
 
 Ez ye did in early youth — 
 And with all true hearts around you 
 
 Strike for God Almighty's truth ! 
 
 AS THE FATHER HATH LOVED 
 ME, SO HAVE I LOVED YOU." 
 
 " Where shall the wearied soul find rest, 
 Or consolation when distress'd? 
 Who, who amidst its deepest grief, 
 Can bring it sure and sweet relief?" 
 
SO HAVE I LOVED JOU. 12 g 
 
 Thus, to myself, I said one day, 
 As suffering, on my couch I lay : 
 Sickness without, and grief within 
 
 Lay on me as a chastening rod : 
 And doubts and fears, and clouds of sin, 
 
 Seemed to shut out the face of God: 
 When, sweetly as a voice from Heaven, 
 These words unto my soul were given : — 
 
 Wearied Soul! by sin oppressed, 
 
 Come, the Saviour's fullness prove ; 
 Lean thy head upon His breast : 
 
 Listen to His words of love : — 
 Canst thou tell the wondrous height 
 
 Of the Father's love to Me ? 
 Knowest thou of its deathless might ? 
 
 Such is that I have for thee ! 
 
 Thou wert precious in My sight, 
 
 Ere the woHd from nothing came : 
 Then, in thee I took delight, 
 
 And I called thee by thy name, 
 Do not think thou art forgot ; 
 
 On My heart thy name I bear ; 
 And, in every future lot, 
 
 I will make thy wants My care. 
 7 
 
130 AS THE FATHER HATH LOVED ME. 
 
 When the storm is passing by, 
 
 I will hide thee 'neath My wing. 
 And, when thou art called to die, 
 
 Home, at last, I'll safely bring. 
 Cast away thy doubts and fears ; 
 
 Thou, My faithfulness shall prove ; 
 And, when sight is dimmed by tears, 
 
 Trust the fullness of My love ! 
 
 I heard these words. And as the light 
 
 Breaks in to let the glory through ; 
 At once, out of my spirit's night, 
 
 He seemed to rise before my view ! 
 Oh ! never can that vision fade 
 Out of my sight ! In light or shade, 
 Its heavenly radiance seems to play 
 In rainbow beauty, o'er my way. 
 And all around, beneath, above, 
 Echoes His words of perfect love ! 
 
THE INNER NATURE. 131 
 
 THE INNER NATURE REVEALING 
 ITSELF. 
 
 A Parable. 
 
 " Make the Tree good, and his Fruit good.'' 
 " The engrafted word." 
 
 There are myriads of voices, floating all 
 around us. They come from all things 
 that are — though like the voices of the 
 stars, they have never been framed into 
 human speech ! Shall we ever be wise 
 enough to interpret them? They would 
 teach us many a lesson if we were ! 
 
 I was strolling with a couple of female 
 friends, in the very early twilight of a lovely 
 autumn evening, through the orchard of a 
 friend, with whom I was spending a short 
 vacation. The orchard itself was young 
 and thrifty, abounding in the finest fruit. 
 Two trees especially, arrested our atten- 
 tion, and before I was aware, my friends 
 had plucked an apple off one of the trees, 
 and proceeded to taste it. 
 
I32 THE INNER NATURE 
 
 Now, it so happened, that this tree was 
 a very vigorous, native Crab, and its fruit, 
 therefore, everything that such fruit could 
 be. In other words, it was most intensely 
 bitter. The scene that followed was by no 
 means complimentary, either to the fruit 
 itself, or to the beauty of expression in the 
 faces of my two friends, as they hastily 
 cast away the apples, and strove to regain 
 the calmness they had so unexpectedly 
 lost! Lingering a little behind, as they 
 passed on to the house, the leaves of the 
 tree seemed to shake with tremulous emo- 
 tion, and a low desponding voice from the 
 heart of the tree itself, exclaimed, "There 
 it is again ! There's no use in my trying ! 
 I might as well give it up !" And a clear, 
 musical voice, from the Golden Pippin, by 
 its side, said, " What might you as well 
 give up?" 
 
 " Why, I might as well give up trying 
 to make good fruit," replied the Crab-tree. 
 " For the harder I try, the sourer my fruit 
 gets to be ! You saw how it was just now? 
 People pluck my fruit, and the moment 
 they begin to eat, they spit it out, and 
 
REVEALING ITSELF, ^3 
 
 make all kinds of wry faces — just as those 
 two silly girls did, a moment ago ! It's 
 hard, too, for they pluck your fruit, and 
 say, 'How fine that is f And I'm sure, 
 you don't try any harder than I do." 
 
 " Xo, I do not. Indeed, I don't try at 
 all. My best fruit just comes ! But would 
 you believe it ? My apples were once 
 just like yours! And many's the time 
 I've laughed at the ugly faces they made 
 —just as those two girls did now — on 
 tasting them. I wasn't a bit sorry about 
 it !" 
 
 l J That may be. But you mustn't expect 
 me to believe that your fruit was ever like 
 mine ! Anyway / can't make Golden Pip- 
 pins out of a Crab-Apple tree!" 
 
 " No more can I ; and so it was not my 
 work at all. It all comes of the Grafting !" 
 
 "Grafting ? And what do you mean 
 by that?" 
 
 " Well, you see, one day the Master 
 came, and cut off all my best branches, 
 leaving me only a few, just to breathe 
 through. Then he put a little cutting or 
 cion of the Golden Pippin into the stump 
 
I 3 4 THE INNER NATURE 
 
 of each branch he had cut off; closed up 
 the wound as carefully as he could, and 
 put some wax — grafting wax, I think he 
 called it — all round it, and then, tying some 
 bandages round that, left me just so ! Oh ! 
 but I was a sorry-looking thing just then ! 
 All my best branches, that I was so proud 
 of, cut off, and nothing but the bandaged 
 stumps, sticking up, as if I wanted people 
 to see them ! You may be sure I felt bad 
 enough ! For how was I ever going to do any- 
 thing a decent tree ought to do ? And these 
 wounds, would they ever heal up ? Should 
 * I ever bear blossoms and fruit again ? For 
 if my fruit was sour, it was the best I knew 
 how to bear. And I tried hard enough to 
 make it better; just as you are trying now. 
 But, after a while, the Master came to 
 examine the grafts, as he called them. 
 And he said to his little son, Charlie, these 
 grafts have all taken, and we'll have fine 
 fruit here in a year or two ! Now I did not 
 know what he meant by the grafts having 
 taken — or what they had to take — but what 
 he said about the fruit, I understood well 
 enough. That was coming after a while. 
 
REVEALING ITSELF. 
 
 l SS 
 
 Well, he watched me very carefully: and 
 now, you see it's come just as he said. For 
 those little grafts have all grown to be fine, 
 large branches ; and every year fruit comes 
 just as you see it now. Oh ! it's a great 
 thing to be grafted!" 
 
 "But I don't see how all this helps me," 
 said the Crab Tree very mournfully. "I 
 can't graft myself, you know !" 
 
 Just then, the Master came along, fol- 
 lowed by the Gardener, to whom he said, 
 Th fs the Tree I was talking to you about. 
 I believe now I'll not cut it down, as I was 
 thinking of doing ; but just mark it for 
 grafting in the early spring. It's a young 
 and vigorous tree, and may do me good 
 service yet !" 
 
 And the Crab-Tree shook its branches 
 in tremulous delight, at the thought of 
 being good at hearty at last ; and of proving 
 its goodness by the good fruit it would 
 then be able to bear ! 
 
136 COMMUNION. 
 
 COMMUNION. 
 
 " An ye commune much with a donkey ', ye 1 11 just be a 
 donkey your ain se/. v 
 
 No creature stands alone. And all the 
 finer 
 
 Its inner life may be 
 To that extent the higher and diviner, 
 
 Its need of sympathy. 
 
 For what is sympathy ; but the communion 
 
 Of things that are of kin ? 
 That feel the touch of that mysterious 
 union, 
 
 Which makes them one within ? 
 
 The sunbeam lavishes its wealth of treasure, 
 
 Upon the way-side stone. 
 // has no wants ; knows neither pain nor 
 pleasure, 
 
 And so remains alone ! 
 
 But to the flowers, it makes the same 
 appealing ; 
 
C O M M UNION, 
 
 137 
 
 And to its mute caress, 
 They answer back ; to the same sun re- 
 vealing 
 Their wealth of loveliness ! 
 
 Sparkling with dew-drops, see the violet 
 raises 
 Its crest in mute delight ; 
 Singing in low and perfumed breath the 
 praises 
 Of Sunbeam and of Night ! 
 
 With both it holds communion ; now re- 
 vealing 
 
 Whate'er they can bestow ; 
 Then, in the fullness of its nature, living 
 
 The gifts that from them flow ! 
 
 The sunbeam came on its long journey 
 seeking 
 
 To draw it from the sod ! 
 And it replied in tearful silence, speaking 
 
 Its gratitude to God ! 
 
 The lute's strings answer in their low 
 vjbrations. 
 
*3* 
 
 COMMUNION. 
 
 To sounds from other strings ; 
 And spirit makes reply to inspirations, 
 From unseen, heavenly things ! 
 
 There is a subtle aura floating tx>und us, 
 
 Whose wave-like influence 
 Connects us with the unseen worlds that 
 bound us, 
 
 Through every door of sense ! 
 
 Man, beast, bird, insect feel its soft appeal- 
 ing 
 Which comes to them from far : 
 But oft its touch by stronger power con- 
 cealing, 
 As daylight hides the star. 
 
 For Nature is the key-board, and it ranges 
 
 Through all created things; 
 And we but dimly comprehend the changes, 
 
 That sweep across its strings. 
 
 We ai'e not now in tune. The limitations ; 
 
 The broken strings ; the strife ; 
 Will all be lost in the full revelation, 
 Of Him who is our Life ! 
 
COMMUNION, I39 
 
 We shall be like Him then. Our spirit 
 tension 
 
 No tuning shall prolong! 
 All shall be lost in the full grand ascension 
 
 Of our immortal song ! 
 
 Nature shall then be born ; her powers 
 expanded, 
 Long locked up in the night, 
 Undreamed of, unsuspected — now re- 
 manded 
 To service in the light ! 
 
 So as a prelude, gentle intimations 
 From earth, from air and skies, 
 
 Seem to foretell the richer inspirations 
 That shall from all things rise, 
 
 When the full song - of a restored Creation 
 
 Around, beneath, above, 
 Shall blend its notes in varying illustration 
 
 Of Jesus and His love! 
 
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