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 „ DAY 
 
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LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 
 
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 UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 
 
THE 
 
 Cool of the Day 
 
 OTHER POEMS 
 By George sV Dwight 
 
 ARRANGED BY 
 
 Jeannie Dwight Franklin 
 
 ^'^JoPYK'^ 
 
 NEW YORK ^, V, ^ 
 
 GEO. M. ALLEN COMPANY „ i C^^^^ / V 
 BROADWAY & 21st ST. 
 1892 
 
i,^"" 
 <^^^ 
 
COPYRIGHT, 
 
 GEO. M. ALLEN COMPANY, NEW YORK 
 
 1892 
 
CONTENTS, 
 
 Page 
 The Cool of the Day, . . . . ' . .9 
 
 Rest in the Lord, ...... 12 
 
 The Mystic Gate, . . . . . . .13 
 
 Resurrection, ....... 16 
 
 "To Stand," ........ 19 
 
 Transfiguration, ...... 21 
 
 The Soul's Tryst, . . ... 23 
 
 Autumnal SabbAth, ...... 25 
 
 Nebo, ......... 27 
 
 The Triumphal Entry, . .... 28 
 
 Sympathy, ........ 30 
 
 Sufficient unto the Day, 
 Sometimes, 
 
 32 
 
 33 
 
 A Living Epistle, ...... 34 
 
 Summer Sunset, . . . . . , .-36 
 
 Ministry, . . . . . . . .38 
 
 "Under His Wings," . . . . . .39 
 
 The Heavenly Climate, ..... 41 
 
 Reveries, . . . . . . . .42 
 
 The Empty Nest, ...... 45 
 
 A Midsummer Eve in Sweden, . . . .46 
 
 A Name, ........ 49 
 
 " Meum et Tuum," . . . . . . .50 
 
viii CONTENTS. 
 
 Page 
 
 Beauty Revealed, ...... 52 
 
 The Rest that Remaineth, . . . . .53 
 
 Now are Ye the Sons of God, .... 54 
 
 In Time of Trouble, . , . . .55 
 
 Gethsemane, ....... 57 
 
 Which Passeth Understanding, . . . .58 
 
 "Father, vSave Me FROM THIS Hour," ... 60 
 
 Panoply, . . . . .61 
 
 He Careth for You, ..... 62 
 
 Tired Mother's Comfort, . .64 
 
 XLVI Psalm 66 
 
 Discipline, . . . . . . . .67 
 
 Bethany, ..... r .. 69 
 
 Twilight, ........ 71 
 
 Philip, ........ 73 
 
 "I Shall be Like Him," . .75 
 
 The Midnight Sun, ...... 77 
 
 Mine, ......... 78 
 
 Surrender, ....... 80 
 
 In Memoriam, . .81 
 
THE COOL OF THE DAY. 
 
 THE COOL OF THE DAY. 
 
 quite pos- 
 
 sessed the throne 
 
 late made vacant by the ex- 
 iled Sun ; 
 While loyal clouds that linger in the West 
 Still wear his royal colors on the breast — 
 Comes a brief pause, delicious in its sway, 
 The rarest hour of summer's fairest day ! 
 A restful island in a restless sea — 
 The rich andante of a symphony. 
 Bathed in the beauty of the evening flush. 
 Nature seems listening in a reverent hush — 
 As if alert with quickened sense to hear 
 The coming of some blessed presence near. 
 Sweet odors rise from off the grasses slain, 
 Like holy thoughts that follow heaven-sent 
 
 pain — 
 Infinite pathos thrills through earth and sky 
 Like wedded rythm of song and poetry ; 
 My heart-strings pulsing to the self-same 
 
 strain, 
 A harp of joy, just lightly touched by pain — 
 The tone of sadness serving to complete 
 
lo THE COOL OF THE DAY. 
 
 And round a joy already passing sweet. 
 
 The gentle thrush, from out the shadowy 
 grove 
 
 Sends sweet confession of contented love ; 
 
 The outbreak of that speechless tenderness 
 
 Nor man nor bird can ever quite express — 
 
 Though well her liquid voice hath struck 
 the key 
 
 Of that divine, pervading sympathy, 
 
 Which from the skies and grasses at my feet. 
 
 Blends in the air harmonious and sweet ; 
 
 Awakening tender thoughts within my 
 breast, 
 
 Memories of toil and hopes of coming rest ; 
 
 Thoughts with w^hich nature is in full ac- 
 cord, 
 
 As though her spirit spake an answering 
 word. 
 
 Whence comes this undefined and mystic 
 
 power. 
 This gentle grace of twilight's pensive hour? 
 This nameless charm, that to our inmost 
 
 sense 
 Enters with still and hallowing influence ? 
 As if the angel of this outward calm, 
 Laid on our souls her touch of blissful 
 
 balm — 
 Is it that earth, enshrined in love doth hold. 
 The memory of those Eden hours of old, 
 
THE COOL OF THE DAY. n 
 
 When at the twilight God Himself came 
 
 down 
 To walk the garden with His loved and 
 
 own — 
 And consecrates this time of joy and rest, 
 A sweet memorial of her former guest ? 
 Or can it be that still at close of day 
 The Lord from Heaven earthward takes His 
 
 wa}^ ? 
 And that the landscape, hushed in rapture 
 
 meet. 
 Expects the coming of His Kingly feet- 
 Till mountain peak and meadow's daisied 
 
 sod 
 Are instinct with the presence of their God? 
 vSurely, oh heart— no other hour of day 
 
 So woos from care and war of self away 
 
 Until we seem to tread fair Beulah's land, 
 'Mid paths of peace led by the Father's hand! 
 
 Oh ! may my spirit at the close of life. 
 
 Enjoy such respite from the day's long 
 strife. 
 
 And through the twilight walk the home- 
 ward path 
 
 Alone with God, without a thought of death! 
 
12 REST IN THE LORD. 
 
 REST IN THE LORD, AND WAIT 
 PATIENTLY FOR HIM. 
 
 y^^^ HIS rest is not the brief release, 
 ll^gfi That only lasts while tempests 
 ^^^^S;^ cease — 
 
 A transient and uncertain peace. 
 
 Nor yet the long, untroubled sleep 
 
 Of coral groves beneath the deep. 
 
 That know not when the whirlwinds sweep. 
 
 It is that constant, changeless calm. 
 Which midst the billows' worst alarm, 
 Holdeth its faith, nor feareth harm. 
 
 A rest, not on, but " in the Lord 
 Ah, could another human word 
 Such sense of restfulness afford 
 
 As if, encircled by his love 
 On either side, beneath, above. 
 The soul lost all desire to rove. 
 
 Content to wait his chosen day, 
 Nor count such waiting as delay. 
 Though planets melt and suns decay. 
 
THE MYSTIC GATE. 13 
 
 THE MYSTIC GATE. 
 
 TO J. R. B. 
 
 H ! dark and shadowed door ! 
 Oh ! glory-shining portal ! 
 Lying our path before — 
 Leading to the immortal ! 
 Thou art the end of toil and strife ; 
 To weary ones the "Gate of Life." 
 Yet, since thy noiseless hinge and lock 
 Yield only to the gentle knock 
 Of Nature's latest breath, 
 Mortals do call thee "Death." 
 
 Oh ! silent, swinging door ! 
 
 How smoothly dost thou move 
 To let — thy threshold o'er. 
 
 The feet of those we love. 
 How slight thy mystic barrier seems 
 Between us and the "Land of Dreams ! 
 How fine the veil, how thin the screen. 
 Hung Paradise and Pain between ! 
 So slight — that it doth not withstand 
 The pressure of the childish hand ! 
 So fine — the infant's closing sigh 
 Will sway the folds, to let it by. 
 
14 THE MYSTIC GATE. 
 
 Oh ! noiseless, swinging door ! 
 
 How gently dost thou ope 
 To pass into the " Evermore," 
 
 The treasures of our hope ! 
 But once beyond thine archway past, 
 Thou shuttest to and standest fast ! 
 Fast! — though our hearts would fain pursue 
 The darlings who have just gone through. 
 Vain, throbbing heart, is thy pursuing. 
 The hidden bolt there's no undoing ! 
 Thou canst not turn the secret lock ! 
 Firm stands the gate as ad'mant rock ! 
 Thou canst but sit thee down and wait 
 The opening of the silent gate ; 
 Ere long it shall to thee unfold, 
 And entrance give to *' streets of gold ! " 
 
 Beloved ! is the waiting weary ? 
 Doth all without the gate seem dreary ? 
 Is thy heart with grief opprest? 
 Art thou sighing for thy rest ? 
 Thirsting for renewed love, 
 In the deathless land above ? 
 Canst thou now no longer wait ? 
 Wouldst thou rise and storfu the gate 1 
 Patience ! Sit thee down and watch. 
 Mindful who doth hold the latch, 
 Thou knowest what He did to save thee. 
 And how He yearneth now to have thee ; 
 "Will He be slow to ope the door, 
 
THE MYSTIC GATE. 15 
 
 And welcome home for evermore ? 
 Behold ! traced on the arch above, 
 His own sweet words of cheer and love : 
 
 " Let not your spirit troubled be, 
 '' Ye trust the Father — trust in Me : 
 '' Within His house are mansions fair — 
 " Which for Our loved ones 1 prepare. 
 '' When thine is done, I'll ope the door, 
 '* And thou shalt stand without no more, 
 " But to My longing arms shalt flee, 
 "That, where I am, thou mayest be." 
 
 Then sit thee down, content to wait 
 His opening of the mystic gate ; 
 Repine not at thy lengthened watch. 
 Since His dear hand is on the latch. 
 
i6 RESURRECTION. 
 
 
 RESURRECTION. 
 
 TO J. W. D. 
 
 I SPRING, than other springs more 
 
 fair ! 
 Strange rapture thrills thy balmy 
 
 air — 
 A mystic charm, whose presence flings 
 Unwonted grace o'er common things ! 
 The daisy hath a price untold ; 
 The buttercup is virgin gold ; 
 While oriole, from his trembling throat, 
 Lets fall a new and tender note ; 
 And the song-sparrow, from the tree. 
 Chirps an especial joy to me. 
 
 Whence this transfiguration bright. 
 Baptizing earth with Heavenly light ? 
 This deep and secret ecstacy — 
 A-throb through May's sweet mystery — 
 Yielding to every hue and tone 
 A subtle beauty, not its own ? 
 
RESURRECTION. 17 
 
 Beside my path, with prattle sweet, 
 
 Walketh a child, on faltering feet ; 
 
 Who trod but late life's outer verge, 
 
 Where death's cold waves forever surge, 
 
 And lingering on its lonely shore. 
 
 Peered into Heaven through open door ; 
 
 Who wears, still woven in her hair. 
 
 The shimmer of its lambent air. 
 
 The while we watched her lingering wait 
 
 Uncertain at the mystic gate. 
 
 How brightly did love's signals burn, 
 
 To tempt her tiny foot's return ; 
 
 How oft, in agony of prayer, 
 
 We begged the Lord this lamb to spare ; 
 
 Till His good angels led her back, 
 
 And loosed our hearts from grief's hot rack. 
 
 Now, with a memory of the skies 
 
 Still looking from her azure eyes, 
 
 Ineffable and gentle grace 
 
 Still shining on her blanched face — 
 
 Unto our air, her breath has brought 
 
 The sweetness on that journey caught ; 
 
 Hers is the charm, whose presence brings 
 
 This nameless grace to common things. 
 
 Anemone and violet 
 
 New beauty from her touch beget ! 
 
 The dandelions 'mid the grass 
 
 Flash up like gems to see her pass ! 
 
 To pave her path the apple shakes, 
 
 In scented showers, its snowy flakes ! 
 
i8 RESURRECTION. 
 
 And lilacs launch upon the wind 
 Their former fragrance, thrice refined ! 
 Joy's benediction droppeth down, 
 With Godlike touch, each plant to crown ! 
 In silent praise, the forest trees 
 Fling out their banners to the breeze ! 
 While orchards, pulsing to the psalm. 
 From silvery censers scatter balm ! 
 All nature hails with gratitude 
 The miracle of life renewed ! 
 
 So sings my soul to Thee, dear Lord, 
 For the sweet gift of hope restored ! 
 
TO stand:' 19 
 
 ''TO STAND." 
 
 RANT me a patient courage, Lord ! 
 Sore wounded and with broken 
 sword, 
 Beset on every hand : 
 A lonely and forsaken man. 
 Far at the doubtful battle's van 
 To stand ! 
 
 Weary, athirst and well nigh spent, 
 O, for a speedy succor sent 
 
 From out Thy royal band ! 
 It is so hard, in wreck and rout, 
 'Mid dying faith and living doubt, 
 
 To stand ! 
 
 Yet o'er the conflict's din and heat, 
 Thy golden trumpet soundeth sweet : 
 " Yield not, my son, but stand ! " 
 It is not mine to say Thee, " Nay ; " 
 Mine but to hearken, to obey — 
 To stand ! 
 
20 " TO STAND." 
 
 Then if I perish, let me die 
 Fronting my foes right valiantly; 
 
 Thy colors in my hand ! 
 Since death is but the joyful word 
 That calleth me before my Lord 
 
 To stand ! 
 
TRA NSFIG URA TION. 2 1 
 
 (Written on Orang-e Mountain— New York City and Brooklyn 
 Bridge in sight, and a rainbow arching over the city.) 
 
 TRANSFIGURATION. 
 
 '■'■The things that a?'e seeii are te?nporal, but the things that are 
 U7iseen are etet-fial.'^ 
 
 LL day the mists with shadowy wing 
 Had half concealed the glorious 
 spring — 
 
 While from my heart fatigue and doubt 
 Had barred God's perfect shining out. 
 The sun had passed the wooded crest 
 Of the fair hills that guard the west — 
 When, through some glen along the height, 
 Sudden it shot a gleam of light 
 That o'er the middle landscape rolled, 
 A wave of amber mixed with gold ! 
 It swept across the fields of June 
 And showed them fairer than the noon. 
 The vane above the village spire 
 Flamed like a torch of sacred fire, 
 While common objects flushed and shone 
 With a strange beauty not their own. 
 Eastward it spread its lambent flood, 
 To where the distant city stood, 
 
22 77?^ NSFIG URA TION. 
 
 Transfiguring by its radiance bright 
 
 Her homes to palaces of light, 
 
 Till like the new Jerusalem 
 
 Its streets flashed gold — each gate a gem ! 
 
 Then climbing upward to the sky 
 
 It built a rainbow, broad and high, 
 
 A double arch of pulsing hue, 
 
 That rose against- the heavenly blue, 
 
 And seemed to my enraptured eyes 
 
 The portal into Paradise ! 
 
 Thus, mused I, doth God's touch transform 
 The cloudy day of doubt and storm — 
 While the hard paths of toil and care, 
 Illumined by His smile seem fair ? 
 Thus life takes on transcendent grace 
 Beneath the shining of His face ! 
 
 Soon night had blurred the vision out. 
 But with the darkness came no doubt ; 
 What though the tinted archway die ? 
 The real bridge still spans the sky, 
 And up from earthly shadows dim 
 I cross God's promises to Him ! 
 
THE sours TRYST. 
 
 23 
 
 THE SOUL'S TRYST. 
 
 H ! speed ye laggard hours away, 
 And bring the welcome gloam- 
 
 For with the fading of the day, 
 My brightest bliss is coming ! 
 To meet alone, in holy tryst, 
 My royal lover— Jesus Christ ! 
 
 I have His pledge that He will be 
 Just past these glaring meadows 
 
 In yon dark glen, unknown to me 
 
 Deep veiled in mystic shadows. 
 
 But, ah !. what spot can long be dim, 
 
 So I but meet and talk with Him ! 
 
 My timid heart, in quick affright. 
 Shrinks from the darkness lonely; 
 
 But I would walk through blackest night. 
 If but to touch Him only ! 
 
 For once His thrilling voice I hear. 
 
 My fluttering heart forgets its fear. 
 
24 THE SOULS TRYST. 
 
 I ne'er have seen His glorious face, 
 Save through some dreamy presage ; 
 
 But I have learnt His gentle grace 
 In many a tender message. 
 
 How shall I bear the blest surprise 
 
 That waits me in His matchless eyes ! 
 
 Then haste, oh, night ! with flying feet, 
 And bring the tardy gloaming ! 
 
 That I may taste the rapture sweet, 
 
 That crowns my bridegroom's coming ! 
 
 My soul is faint to feel the bliss, 
 
 That He is mine and I am His ! 
 
AUTUMNAL SABBATH, 25 
 
 AUTUMNAL SABBATH. 
 
 H ! this is more " rare than a day in 
 June ! " 
 This twilight time of the circling 
 year ; 
 Nature hath tried each changing tune 
 Through spring-time sweet, and summer 
 dear ; 
 And now in these ripe autumnal days 
 Holdeth her festival of praise ! 
 
 And if her chorus in youthful May 
 Thrilled with a rapture more intense, 
 
 The soundless psalm that she sings to-day 
 Is rich in wealth of experience ; 
 
 That was the bliss of an opening life — 
 
 This is the peace that has outlived strife. 
 
 The filmy haze that is floating about. 
 
 And tinging the air with its pearly mist — 
 
 No sullen vapor born of doubt — 
 Is like to the halo worn by Christ ; 
 
 A tender symbol of Heavenly love, 
 
 A trace of the atmosphere above. 
 
26 AUTUMNAL SABBATH. 
 
 The ro3'al trees on the mountain's slope — 
 Though bud and blossom and fruit are 
 gone, 
 
 In flaming garments of joy and hope 
 Await their guerdon for duty done ; 
 
 The message coming by winter's breath — 
 
 A promise of resting — not of death. 
 
 But underlying the season's balm, 
 
 And deeper than simple sense of ease, 
 
 The soul is aware of a speechless calm, 
 The passing glimpse of its future peace; 
 
 And feels that a fruitful life is blest 
 
 With the crowning gift of a perfect rest. 
 
 Oh ! tender veil of Octobral mist ! 
 
 That lures, yet limits, my longing view. 
 Like Heaven's own portals of amethyst, 
 
 That human vision would fain look 
 through ; 
 May my mortality pass away 
 With the tranqiiil joy of this autumn da}^ ! 
 
NEBO. 
 
 27 
 
 NEBO. 
 
 OMETIMES from off Joy's crown- 
 ing height 
 God grants fair visions to my 
 sight — 
 Sweet valleys of supreme delight ! 
 But when my feet would speed away 
 To taste their fruits without delay, 
 He bars my path and tells me, '' Nay ! " 
 Yet whispers, while the sad surprise 
 Still lingers in my downcast eyes, 
 " Come up instead — to Paradise ! " 
 
28 THE TRIUMPHAL ENTRY. 
 
 THE TRIUMPHAL ENTRY. 
 
 ^1„ 
 
 ^AY of joy ! — and glad hosanna ! 
 Past the wilderness and manna ! 
 Canaan reached with waving 
 banner ! 
 
 On sweet Salem fondly gazing — 
 Bulwarks, towers and walls amazing — 
 Burst, oh, heart — with song and praising ! 
 
 Oh ! how passing fair she lieth ! 
 City where no sufferer sigheth ! 
 In whose homes no child e'er crieth — 
 No one wearieth — no one dieth. 
 
 Oh ! ecstatic swift transition ! 
 From the waste, to fields Elysian ! 
 Up from faith to perfect vision ! 
 
 Doubt is slain — and vanquished Sighing ! 
 Chained, Captivity is lying ; 
 Tyrant Death himself is dying ! 
 
THE TRIUMPHAL ENTRY. 29 
 
 Conquerors in bright procession 
 Marching up to blest possession — 
 Theirs, through Jesus' intercession. 
 
 Sword and mail from strife laborious, 
 Gleaming in the pageant glorious, 
 Pass the jeweled gates victorious ! 
 
 Kings and priests from every nation 
 Celebrate Christ's coronation? 
 Hail Him — Captain of Salvation ! 
 
 Million-voiced the mighty chorus : 
 " Worth}^ Jesus to reign o'er us ! 
 " He hath paid the ransom for us ! 
 " He doth endless life restore us ! " 
 
 Oh ! thou song of bliss eternal ! 
 Oh ! thou land, forever vernal ! 
 Oh ! thou day of light supernal ! 
 
 As the hart athirst and panting, 
 So our weary souls are fainting, 
 Quick to taste thy joys enchanting ! 
 
 Sound, oh trump ! thy note of thunderj! 
 Rend the clouds of night asunder ! 
 Bring the dawn of blissful wonder ! 
 
30 SYMPATHY. 
 
 SYMPATHY. 
 
 TO MRS. E. C. T. 
 
 i 
 
 li 
 
 LITTLE, slender, grassy mound, 
 Barely a span above the ground, 
 Walleth my whole horizon 
 round ; 
 Forever present to my sight — 
 By sunny noon and starry night 
 It casts eclipse o'er all my light ; 
 Above the hilltops, towering high. 
 Its outline seems to reach the sky 
 And hide all beauty from my eye. 
 
 My empty arms — so full of late — 
 Ache for the lack of that sweet weight. 
 The jewel of my whole estate — 
 Of my own life, so dear a part, 
 With it hath gone my inmost heart, 
 And left a hidden, speechless smart — 
 A pang through all my womanhood, 
 That poisons every mirthful mood. 
 That robbeth sleep and loatheth food. 
 
SYMPATHY. 31 
 
 Yet, secret balm is sent to me 
 
 By voiceless human sympathy, 
 
 Like messages from Deity ; 
 
 Till now — how could I know, or guess, 
 
 How much of God's own tenderness 
 
 Thrills through a loving friend's caress ? 
 
 I always knew my Lord was good, 
 
 But ne'er before had understood 
 
 His gentleness and brotherhood ; 
 
 How could I know the vast degree 
 
 Of love that led infinity 
 
 To yield its best beloved for me ? 
 
 Thus, in the furrows, ploughed by pain, 
 Joys are resown like golden grain. 
 And beauty shall be born again. 
 
32 SUFFICIENT UNTO THE DAY. 
 
 SUFFICIENT UNTO THE DAY. 
 
 '■'■Take no thought for the morrow,- 
 '•'■Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof^ 
 
 ^^^300LISH heart, why wilt thou 
 %\ l^gl borrow 
 
 ^ ^^^S^ Phantom troubles by the way, 
 Why, with prophecies of sorrow, 
 
 Fright the present joy away ? 
 God is Sovereign of to-morrow; 
 
 Only thine to serve to-day ! 
 
 By a Father's love dictated — 
 Every care that comes to thee. 
 
 Each day's task is gauged and weighted 
 To thy soul's capacity ; 
 
 And with God's own pledge is freighted : 
 "As thy day, thy strength shall be." 
 
 Shrink not then from burden bearing, 
 
 Grasp each duty in thy road. 
 What th' Almighty hand is sharing 
 
 Cannot prove a crushing load ; 
 It shall end in guerdon wearing, 
 
 When thy wage is due from God. 
 
SOMETIMES. 33 
 
 SOMETIMES. 
 
 ''A window shalt thou make to the ark— thou shalt 
 finish it above.'''' 
 
 |OMETIMES God bids my soul em- 
 bark 
 On sorrow's surging sea — 
 Close locked in some experience dark, 
 
 To which He holds the key ; 
 In silent loneliness, my ark, 
 Drifts on in mystery ! 
 
 But lest my faith should fail through doubt, 
 
 In my adversity. 
 His love so walls me round about, 
 
 The waves I need not see ; 
 But from one window, may look out 
 
 On Heaven's serenity ! 
 
 And flashing through, God's snow-white 
 dove 
 
 Brings pledge of quick release — 
 Sweet proof that on His heights of love. 
 
 Where raging billows cease, 
 I soon shall rest, the floods above. 
 
 On mountain tops of peace ! 
 
34 A LIVING EPISTLE. 
 
 A LIVING EPISTLE. 
 
 TO MRS. R. R. R. 
 
 AIR as the gospel of the Holy Writ, 
 ^H| A human life that well interprets 
 ^^ it: 
 
 Whose common words and deeds trans- 
 figured, shine 
 With the same light that lit the Life divine. 
 
 This hallowed charm, thy daily influence 
 
 yields, 
 As subtle odors haunt the harvest fields ; 
 While nameless quiet mingles with thy life, 
 A calm rebuke to noise and petty strife. 
 
 Thine, the rare grace, sure symbol of the 
 
 saint, 
 A patient trust that uttereth no complaint — 
 But meekly bends beneath God's discipline. 
 Whose heaviest burden wraps most love 
 
 within. 
 
A LIVING EPISTLE. 35 
 
 And holiest trait of noblest womanhood, 
 That slayeth self to gain another's good, 
 And consecrates the willing hands and feet, 
 To helpful tasks and ministrations sweet. 
 
 Sure thou hast learned such gentleness of 
 
 mien, 
 Through constant converse with the Naza- 
 
 rine, 
 And art — as friend, as mother, daughter, 
 
 wife — 
 A sweet epistle of His perfect life ! 
 
36 
 
 SUMMER SUNSET. 
 
 SUMMER SUNSET. 
 
 WEET day of summer balm and 
 rest, 
 Oh, stay thy flight ! 
 Still wave, above yon mountain's crest, 
 
 Thy banners bright ! 
 Still hold the portals of the west 
 Against the night ! 
 
 Lo ! how the waving forest trees 
 
 Beckon thy stay ! 
 Hark, how the fragrant evening breeze 
 
 Doth woo delay ! 
 While thrushes plead across the leas. 
 
 Pass not away ! 
 
 But though all nature join the cry. 
 
 Not yet — not yet ! 
 Behind yon rocky rampart high 
 
 Thy sun will set ! 
 Each bird will hush — each floweret's eye 
 
 With tears be wet ! 
 
SUMMER SUNSET. 37 
 
 E'en now beyond the purpling hill 
 
 Thy light hath past : 
 The woodland shadows, silent, chill — 
 
 Are o'er me cast. 
 The while thou wingest, tireless till 
 
 Thou gild the east ! 
 
 The Father knows we cannot bear 
 
 Unclouded light ; 
 Therefore each perfect day must share 
 
 With darksome night — 
 Until He bring that dawning fair, 
 
 Eternal— bright ! 
 
38 
 
 MINISTRY. 
 
 MINISTRY. 
 
 il 
 
 HENE'ER in a disciple's name, is 
 given 
 A cup of cooling to some fainting 
 heart ; 
 The Master, bending from His throne in 
 Heaven, 
 Blesses the offering by drinking part ; 
 Till, flushed with rapture 'neath his look 
 divine, 
 The earthly water turns to Heavenly 
 wine. 
 
UNDER HIS wings: 
 
 39 
 
 "UNDER HIS WINGS SHALT THOU 
 TRUST." 
 
 TO MRS. E. P. W. 
 
 DO not care to trace Thee, Lord ! 
 'Tis sweeter far to trust Thy word, 
 And every care resign : 
 The sun is an uncertain light, 
 And half my journey lies through night, 
 So faith is safer far than sight. 
 Be Thou my guide divine. 
 Hold Thou my hand in Thine ! 
 
 The clouds that frighten faithless doubt. 
 Are but Thy curtains, shutting out 
 
 What Thou wouldst kindly hide, 
 Or the dark mantle, which Thine arm 
 Wraps round me, sheltering and warm, 
 A covert from the wind and storm. 
 
 Close held against Thy side. 
 
 Lord ! there would I abide ! 
 
40 ''UNDER HIS WINGS." 
 
 Faith finds a far serener rest, 
 
 Thus held in darkness on Thy breast, 
 
 Than sight could ever know : 
 I feel so sure, whate'er may come. 
 So held, my soul can never roam, 
 But journeys safely toward the home 
 
 To which I fain would go — 
 
 Lord ! hold me ever so ! 
 
THE HEAVENLY CLIMATE. 
 
 41 
 
 THE HEAVENLY CLIMATE. 
 
 HE tender morning-glory, there, 
 Fears not to taste the noontide air; 
 Its tinted chalice, fragile, bright, 
 Outheld into eternal light. 
 And filled unto its jeweled brim — 
 Feasts on the radiance shed by Him, 
 Who, in the realm of love the King, 
 Saveth from blight the frailest thing ! 
 
42 REVERIES. 
 
 REVERIES. 
 
 ~^S^ AM lying" at my ease 
 ^1 Along the grass ; 
 
 Watching through o'erarch- 
 ing trees, 
 The clouds that pass ; 
 Silent sailing argosies, 
 Drifting day-dreams of the skies, 
 They enchant my drowsy eyes 
 Like Lethean glass. 
 
 Close at hand a busy bee, 
 
 From out his flower. 
 Hums a soft reproach to me. 
 
 For squandered hour ; 
 E'en the sun's slow shifting beam, 
 Murmuring ripples of the stream. 
 While they stimulate my dream 
 
 Protest its power ! 
 
REVERIES. 43 
 
 Hast thou left no task undone, 
 
 Within thy sphere — 
 Thus, like thriftless summer drone. 
 
 To loiter here ?" 
 I have fled, to harmless dreams, 
 From the web of worldly schemes, 
 Where man is not, what he seems, 
 
 To trust or fear ! " 
 
 Though all things their motion keep 
 
 Through earth and sky, 
 Only I, in wakeful sleep 
 
 An idler lie ; 
 Yet, while prone upon this sod, 
 I the paths of thought have trod, 
 I have met and walked with God, 
 
 In company ! 
 
 Man may gather, stretched at ease, 
 
 On clovery ground. 
 Rarer sweets, oh, honey bees ! 
 
 Than ye have found ; 
 Leisure lends him airy wings. 
 Wide the mystic portal flings. 
 Bids him look on hidden things 
 
 This life that bound. 
 
 Hours that lure one out of self. 
 To realms afar. 
 
44 REVERIES. 
 
 Past the strife for worldly pelf, 
 
 Blest moments are. 
 Time thus spent, is not a theft. 
 Bearer of some Heaven sent gift, 
 We are by its coming, left 
 
 Richer than we were ! 
 
THE EMPTY NEST. 45 
 
 THE EMPTY NEST. 
 
 iETTER an empty nest should be, 
 I Within my winter-stricken tree ; 
 '^=cm Than that through all the summer 
 long, 
 I should have missed the robin's song ; 
 Far better, music half the year, 
 Than none, through its long lapse to hear.^ 
 
 The bird hath flown — its minstrelsy 
 Still soundeth in my m.emory. 
 For joy, once tenant of the heart, 
 Leaveth some record ere he part ; 
 An angel footprint on the floor 
 Indelible forevermore ; 
 Or on the wall some touch of grace. 
 Nor time, nor tears shall e'er efface. 
 
 Build, then, within my nest, oh, snow. 
 Thy monument to present woe ; 
 I yield to thee the vacant shrine. 
 The exiled, summer songf — is mine ! 
 
46 A MIDSUMMER EVE IN SWEDEN. 
 
 A MIDSUMMER EVE IN SWEDEN. 
 
 
 LOSE clasped by present Joy, how 
 seeming brief 
 Our long captivity to weary 
 Grief- 
 Summer is here, and in her short, sweet 
 
 reign, 
 The world forgets its long, dark wintry 
 pain. 
 
 On Maeler's limpid lake at ease I float — 
 Peace holds my helm, from noisy care re- 
 mote — 
 By shady banks where white -stemmed 
 
 birches lean 
 To trail their banners pendulous and green, 
 And stately rushes bow their plumes to see 
 The liquid semblance of their symmetry. 
 From the old castle, slumbering on the shore, 
 Sound the weird songs of Odin, Prey and 
 
 Thor, 
 In manly voices, mellow, tenuous, clear. 
 Like mystic music of an upper sphere. 
 
A MIDSUMMER EVE IN SWEDEN. 47 
 
 Long since the golden sun hath sunk from 
 
 sight, 
 And dawned the silver day of northern 
 
 night — 
 The soft midsummer of the Arctic sky, 
 Where the long twilight lingers lovingly. 
 Among the pads where sleeping lillies lie, 
 My heart like theirs' thrown open to the sky, 
 I drift and dream in measureless content, 
 Serene and soundless as the firmament. 
 Whose azure arches bend above me near, 
 Their circles finished in the tranquil mere ; 
 While I, at rest within my fragile boat, 
 Midway between two perfect heavens float. 
 In that rare calm whence springs the happy 
 
 doubt, 
 If Heaven is part within nor all without. 
 Deep in pellucid mirrors of the stream. 
 The last mementoes of the sunset gleam- 
 Sapphire and ruby, topaz, amethyst, 
 Shimmer like jewels on a robe of mist ; 
 Till the gay perch, upleaping from the 
 
 tide— 
 The same bright colors sparkling on his 
 
 side — 
 In curving ripples breaks the casket up, 
 Its gems dissolving in their crystal cup. 
 Cool shores of silence beckon me from strife, 
 I drift afar from the fatigues of life ; 
 As to the bird, poised on the wing in space. 
 
48 A MIDSUMMER EVE IN SWEDEN. 
 
 Motion is only more delicious peace ; 
 From e'en the effort of a thought set free, 
 Mere sense of being brings full bliss to me, 
 Deepens the calm — till blest beyond my 
 
 doubt, 
 Heaven fills my heart and wraps me round 
 
 about — 
 While on, in sweet content, I float and float, 
 On Maeler's lake, with Peace to guide my 
 
 boat. 
 
A NAME. 49 
 
 A NAME. 
 
 TO S. D. R. 
 
 OME things in nature are so passing 
 fair, 
 And clothed with such inexplica- 
 ble grace, 
 That language hath no word so fitly rare, 
 The secret of their loveliness to trace — 
 We name the violet, but we cannot tell 
 The subtle charms that shrine its life as 
 
 well ; 
 Its beauty baffles all our speech, and yet, 
 We name it, when we name the violet. 
 
 Within my heart there dwells an image 
 sweet. 
 
 Symbol of all things gentle, lovely, good, 
 A life wherein the heavenly graces meet 
 
 To make and crown a perfect womanhood; 
 God's purple wraps her like the floweret's 
 
 bloom 
 Her love diffuses like its sweet perfume. 
 Vain all my words her virtues to define, 
 I sum them in a name, sweet sister mine ! 
 
50 ^^ MEUM ET TUUM: 
 
 "MEUM ET TUUM." 
 
 The four ranks of 7ne7i according to the Talmud. 
 
 ^Jj^^ANKIND may all be measured by 
 one sign, 
 The way in which their daily lives 
 
 define 
 The spirit of these two words : " mine and 
 thine." 
 
 Of lowest rank that grasping mortal is, 
 At heart a robber — full of cruelties — 
 Who claims both " mine and thine " as 
 wholly his. 
 
 And low enough, gauged by this subtle line, 
 The justice — clutching after fee and fine — 
 Who cries, " take that thine is, but touch 
 not mine ! " 
 
 Then comes a nature born of nobler blood, 
 Of impulse generous for the common good, 
 Who counts " mine, thine — thine, mine," in 
 brotherhood. 
 
'' MEUM ET TUUM." 51 
 
 But only on His Kingly face doth shine 
 The radiant proof of lineage divine, 
 Who saith, ** All Mine is thine, as thine is 
 thine ! " 
 
52 
 
 BEAUTY REVEALED. 
 
 BEAUTY REVEALED. 
 
 ^T stood apart, an ill-formed palm, 
 I The scorn of thoughtless eyes ; 
 ^ Yet midst the winter's wild alarm, 
 
 It brought us sweet surprise. 
 Outholding on its fair, five-fingered hand 
 A dainty blossom from the summer land ! 
 
THE REST THAT REMAINETH. 53 
 
 THE REST THAT REMAINETH. 
 
 LAND of asphodel and thornless 
 
 rose ! 
 Of sleepless rest and slumberless 
 repose ! 
 O glorious life, triumphant over this, 
 Whose ceaseless service is eternal bliss. 
 When shall I, past the restlessness of sin, 
 Under thy peaceful portal enter in ? 
 
54 A^C* W ARE YE THE SONS OF GOD. 
 
 NOW ARE YE THE SONS OF GOD. 
 
 God be Father unto me, 
 Then am I born to royalty, 
 That need not fear adversity ; 
 For, past the power of change or chance, 
 I have a sure inheritance ! 
 And small the lack of earthly things 
 To children of the King of kings ; 
 For they can well afford to wait, 
 Who are the heirs to such estate ! 
 
IN TIME OF TROUBLE. 55 
 
 IN TIME OF TROUBLE. 
 
 JT/Sil^ Y soul into the noontide fight, 
 ililii ^^^^ joyous thrill 
 ^^M Of valor flies ! 
 
 But when the dark and weary night, 
 With silent chill, 
 
 Drops down the skies ; 
 When faith must show, instead of sight. 
 The Master's will — 
 My courage dies. 
 
 I covet much earth's golden crown ; 
 Its weight of dross 
 Would gladly bear; 
 But if my Savior sendeth down 
 From off the cross. 
 The one worn there. 
 That coronet — Christ's very own — 
 I count but loss. 
 And shrink to wear ! 
 
 I find it hard, in patience meet, 
 To wait Thy will. 
 Oh, love divine ! 
 
56 IN TIME OF TROUBLE. 
 
 To fold my hands — to stay my feet — 
 And keepifig still, 
 My wish resign ! 
 To say in trustful spirit sweet, 
 Through seeming ill, 
 T/iy 7C'ay — not mine I 
 
 O ! Man of Sorrows — Jesus dear ! 
 Stretch out to me 
 Thy touch of balm ! 
 Forget not thorn and nail and spear 
 Once wounded Thee, 
 Head, heart and palm ! 
 Unto my grief draw very near ; 
 Thy sympathy 
 
 Shall make me calm ! 
 
GETHSEMANE. 57 
 
 GETHSEMANE. 
 
 ^NTO the gloomy grove of woe, 
 
 Where man must meet his fate, 
 Lover, or friend, can scarcely go 
 Beyond the outer gate ; 
 
 Save some dear heart that clingeth tight, 
 
 And will not be denied, 
 But on, through loneliness and night. 
 
 Still holdeth at his side ; 
 
 Till Pain, stern guide, bids it begone, 
 
 Or shuts the wearied sense. 
 And leaves him, wrestling all alone, 
 
 With agony intense. 
 
 Yet, past the bound of human love. 
 
 And mortal sympathies. 
 An angel meets him from above, 
 
 With chalice of the skies ; 
 
 Whose mystic drops hold subtle power 
 
 To transmute pain and loss, 
 And turn to triumph that dark hour 
 
 That sends him to the cross. 
 
58 WHICH PASSETH UNDERSTANDING. 
 
 ''WHICH PASSETH UNDER- 
 STANDING." 
 
 'f^M JESUS, Man of Sorrow, 
 1 ^\ Thou Son of God, the 
 hWm King ! 
 
 What language shall I borrow, 
 
 Thy boundless love to sing ? 
 No mortal words can measure 
 
 The burdens Thou didst take, 
 Accepting pain as pleasure, 
 
 All for my sinful sake. 
 
 By Thine own kin neglected ; 
 
 By trusted ones denied ; 
 By bitter foes rejected, 
 
 Thorn-crowned and crucified. 
 Earth's hatred and affliction 
 
 In patience Thou didst bear, 
 Returning benediction 
 
 For cross and nail and spear ! 
 
WHICH PASSETH UNDERSTANDING. 59 
 
 Had ever love such proving, 
 
 Was ever love so priced ? 
 Ah, what is all my loving. 
 
 Compared with Thine, O Christ! 
 'Tis scarcely worth the gaining — 
 
 This paltry heart of mine ; 
 And yet, for its obtaining, 
 
 Thou paid'st a price divine. 
 
6o ''FA THER, SA VE ME. ' 
 
 FATHER, SAVE ME FROM THIS 
 HOUR!" 
 
 I HE very hour th}^ soul would shun, 
 ^'11 May prove thy life's climactic one; 
 '^ ^ Within its fleeting grasp may lie 
 Control of all Eternity ! 
 So in the chance thou wouldst despise, 
 God may have wrapped thy destinies ! 
 Therefore distrust thy vision dim, 
 And laboring, leave the end to Him ! 
 
PANOPLY. 
 
 6i 
 
 PANOPLY. 
 
 FEARLESS faith, with naked 
 breast, 
 More safely fronts the giant foe, 
 Than timid doubt, though he should go 
 In plates of triple armor drest. 
 
62 HE CARETH FOR YOU. 
 
 HE CARETH FOR YOU. 
 
 A. T. S. 
 
 """"^'F I could only surely know 
 
 That all these things that tire me 
 so, 
 
 Were noticed by my Lord — 
 The pang, that cuts me like a knife. 
 The lesser pains of daily life. 
 The noise, the weariness, the strife — 
 What peace it would afford ! 
 
 I wonder if he really shares 
 In all my little human C9,res, 
 
 This mighty King of kings ? 
 If He, Who guides through boundless space 
 Each blazing planet in its place, 
 Can have the condescending grace 
 
 To mind these petty things ? 
 
 It seems to me, if sure of this. 
 
 Blent with each ill, would come such bliss 
 
 That I might covet pain ; 
 And deem whatever brought to me 
 
HE CARET H FOR YOU. 63 
 
 The loving thought of Deity, 
 And sense of Christ's sweet sympathy, 
 Not loss, but richest gain. 
 
 Dear Lord, my heart hath not a doubt 
 That Thou dost compass me about, 
 
 With sympathy divine ! 
 The love for me once crucified 
 Is not the love to leave my side, 
 But waiteth, ever, to divide 
 
 Each smallest care of mine. 
 
64 TIRED MOTHER'S COMFORT. 
 
 TIRED MOTHER'S COMFORT. 
 
 M. T. D. 
 
 DO not think that I could bear 
 I My daily weight of woman's care, 
 If it were not for this — 
 That Jesus seemeth always near — 
 Unseen, but whispering in my ear 
 Some tender word of love, or cheer. 
 To fill my soul with bliss. 
 
 There are so many trivial cares 
 
 That no one knows and no one shares — 
 
 Too small for me to tell — 
 Things e'en my husband cannot see, 
 Nor his dear love uplift from me, 
 Each hour's unnamed perplexity. 
 
 That mothers know so well. 
 
 The failure of some household scheme, 
 The ending of some pleasant dream, 
 
 Deep hidden in my breast ; 
 The weariness of children's noise, 
 The yearning for that subtle poise 
 Which turneth duties into joys. 
 
 And giveth inner rest. 
 
TIRED MOTHER'S COMFORT. 65 
 
 These secret things, however small, 
 Are known to Jesus — each and all — 
 
 And this thought brings me peace. 
 I do not need to say one word, 
 He knows what thought my heart hath 
 
 stirred, 
 And, by divine caress, my Lord 
 
 Makes all its throbbing cease. 
 
 And then, upon His loving breast, 
 My weary head is laid at rest. 
 
 In peace serenely sweet ; 
 Until it seemeth all in vain 
 That care, fatigue, or mortal pain 
 Should hope to draw me forth again, 
 
 From such divine retreat. 
 
66 XL VI PSALM. 
 
 XLVI PSALM. 
 
 HAT other refug-e half so sweet, 
 What other strength so strong, 
 What help so near to weary feet 
 That flee from grief and wrong ? 
 
 The world is full of strife and noise, 
 
 A cruel, raging sea, 
 That wrecks our hopes, that strands our 
 joys, 
 
 And whelms tranquility. 
 
 Yet compassing this ocean's bound, 
 
 Untroubled by its roar, 
 God's brooding love doth circle round 
 
 An ever present shore. 
 
 On whose blest verge forever cease 
 
 Earth's tempest and alarm ; 
 The surging passions, lulled to peace, 
 
 Hush in perpetual calm. 
 
DISCIPLINE. 67 
 
 DISCIPLINE. 
 
 ^EAR Lord, I thank Thee for this 
 life, 
 With all its care, and pain, and 
 strife, 
 Its weary round of duty ; 
 Since by Thy grace I have been taught, 
 That with its warp is interwrought 
 Thy mystic woof of beauty ! 
 
 That 'neath its surface mystery. 
 Safe and unmarred forever lie, 
 
 Sweet plans of Thy designing ; 
 The purposes of love divine. 
 To sanctify this soul of mine. 
 
 By processes refining. 
 
 Life would not find its inner poise, 
 Unless its superficial joys 
 
 By outer winds were shaken ; 
 Faith would not rise to holy trust. 
 Until dethroned, and in the dust, 
 
 Its idols lay forsaken. 
 
68 DISCIPLINE. 
 
 Hearts could not gauge the thought of rest, 
 Or courage grow, without the test 
 
 Of toil and bitter trial ; 
 Souls would not learn to follow Christ 
 With daily cross, and love unpriced. 
 
 Were there no self-denial. 
 
 Since all these things are for my sake. 
 Grant me Thy grace, to gladly take 
 
 Each with its hidden treasure ; 
 And help my restless heart to reach 
 The wish to learn what Thou wouldst teach, 
 
 Till Thy will prove my pleasure. 
 
BETHANY. 69 
 
 BETHANY. 
 
 " Said I not unto thee if thou wouldst believe, thou shouldst 
 SEE the glory of God ? " 
 
 OPE within my heart is sinking 
 At the trouble in my home ; 
 Weary is my brain with thinking, 
 Of what sorrow yet may come. 
 Jesus — Master ! Thine appearing, 
 Swift would end my anxious fearing — 
 Haste with comfort and with cheering — 
 To Thy friend in Bethany ! 
 
 I have sent Him pressing message — 
 
 That our loved one lieth sick ; 
 Told Him all my gloomy presage, 
 
 Begged His healing presence quick ! 
 Still no answer doth He make me, 
 Yet His help must overtake me ! 
 Surely He will not forsake me. 
 
 Groping in the darkness thick ! 
 
 Now I know I am forsaken ! 
 
 Else my dear one had not died — 
 Test like this had ne'er o'ertaken — 
 
 Soul whom Jesus stood beside ! 
 
70 BETHANY, 
 
 Shroud my treasure for entombing, 
 
 Long shalt be life's weary gloaming, 
 
 In a home to which Christ's coming. 
 
 Thus hath plainly been denied ! 
 
 Shame upon thine unbelieving ! 
 
 Infinite His love to thee ! 
 Mighty proof, past the conceiving 
 
 Soon thy wondering eyes shall see ! 
 Just while thy faint heart is weakest, 
 Comes the succor that thou seekest. 
 Even while of doubt thou speakest, 
 
 Jesus enters Bethany ! 
 
 Fling aside thy robe of sadness ! 
 
 Quit thy mourning chamber dim ! 
 Hie thee forth, with hasteful gladness, 
 
 On the path to welcome Him ! 
 Clasped in His divine affection, 
 Joy shall overcome dejection ! 
 Faith spring up in resurrection ! 
 
 Deathless at the voice of Him ! 
 
TWILIGHT. 71 
 
 TWILIGHT. 
 
 ^pTS filmy veil o'er summer skies 
 
 It drew, and cooled their fervid 
 dyes. 
 
 With tender tint on field and dell, 
 The light across the landscape fell. 
 
 In softened shadows bathed the grove, 
 And wooed the maid to own her love. 
 
 It murmured to the nodding flower, 
 
 " Sweet sister ! sleep, 'tis evening hour." 
 
 Bade the red robin rest his wing, 
 And 'mid the boughs soft vespers sing. 
 
 It touched the glow-worm in the swamp. 
 Crying, " Arise, and trim thy lamp ! " 
 
 The drowsing cricket on the hearth 
 Awoke, to tune its song of mirth. 
 
 It flushed on tired childhood's cheek. 
 And said, " Thy dreamy pillow seek." 
 
72 TWILIGHT. 
 
 To plowman, at his cottage door, 
 
 It whispered, " Rest ! day's toil is o'er." 
 
 To wistful watcher by the sea, 
 
 ** The morn may bring thy ship to thee ! " 
 
 It crowned the saint upon his bier, 
 
 " Sleep well, God's own ! the night is here! 
 
 Kissed off the tears from weeping eyes, 
 " Have faith ! the day again shall rise ! " 
 
 Its passing ray, through chancel pane. 
 Wrote on the urn, " This life is vain ! " 
 
 The spire's gold cross, athwart the sky, 
 Flashed its last words, '' 'Tis gain to die ! 
 
 And so with vari-colored thought 
 Were evening shadows interwrought. 
 
 Thus to the earth, the fading light, 
 Gave benediction of the night. 
 
PHILIP. 73 
 
 PHILIP. 
 
 • Have I been so lo7ig time with you afid yet hast thou not 
 known Me? " 
 
 Morn, noon, at even-tide 
 And midnight lone. 
 
 When have My following feet 
 
 Once left thy path ? 
 When failed for thee to meet 
 
 E'en Heaven's wrath ? 
 
 Did ever love like Mine 
 
 So sweetly bless ? 
 Or other hand touch thine 
 
 With such caress ? 
 
 Forgettest thoti the scorn 
 
 I bore for thee — 
 The nail, the spear, the thorn 
 
 On Calvary ? 
 
74 PHILIP. 
 
 Thine, all the blissful gain — 
 
 Mine, all the loss ! 
 On thee no crushing pain, 
 
 On Me the cross ! 
 
 Lo ! on My patient brow 
 The crimson sweat ! 
 
 Dost thou remerfiber now ? 
 Canst thou forget ? 
 
 Ah ! black and dismal day ! 
 
 Ah ! direful lot ! 
 If thou shouldst hear Me say, 
 
 I know thee not ! 
 
/ SHALL BE LIKE HLMy 75 
 
 "I SHALL BE LIKE HIM, FOR I 
 SHALL SEE HIM AS HE IS!" 
 
 AVIOR, dear ! my heart is burning 
 For a passing glimpse of Thee ; 
 Sad and weary, I am yearning 
 For that sweet felicity ! 
 
 Thou art near, whate'er betide me, 
 
 Oft I feel Thy touch of grace ; 
 Ah ! while Thou art close beside me. 
 
 Let me look upon Thy face. 
 
 One short moment so enchanting. 
 Life's long pain would compensate, 
 
 And thenceforth, though sick and fainting, 
 I could ne'er be desolate ! 
 
 Patience ! oh, thou child of sorrow. 
 Soon the wished-for sight shall come, 
 
 Soon shall dawn the blest to-morrow. 
 When My hand shall lead thee home. 
 
76 «'/ SHALL BE LIKE HIM:' 
 
 Then in hours of blest fruition 
 I will show My face divine, 
 
 And, transfigured by the vision, 
 Thou shalt wear a look like Mine. 
 
THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 77 
 
 THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 
 
 JOLD fast thy faith — nor fear the 
 night ! 
 God's love is omnipresent light, 
 And will not leave companionless 
 The trustful soul in its distress. 
 Joy's crowning ecstacy is found 
 Outside her tropic's summer bound, 
 When led by stern experience forth 
 To frozen deserts of the North, 
 She sees the peaks of sorrow's zone 
 Transfigured by the midnight sun ! 
 
78 MINE. 
 
 MINE. 
 
 If God so clothe the gi-ass, shall He not much more clothe 
 
 YOU?" 
 
 |NLY a little blade of grass, 
 
 My days are few, and quickly pass. 
 Low in an humble sphere I lie, 
 
 Spurned by the foot of passer by. 
 
 Yet all the force of pregnant earth 
 
 Was requisite to give me birth : 
 
 All of the winter's frost and snow ; 
 
 All of the summer's affluent glow ; 
 
 The subtle processes of light. 
 
 The mystic spells of silent night ; 
 
 Kind ministry of boundless spheres, 
 
 Long patience of eternal years ! 
 
 Love's sweet, persuasive influence, 
 
 The fiat of omnipotence ! 
 
 Less than all this, my lifeless grain. 
 
 Still 'neath the dust of earth had lain, 
 
 Therefore I claim them all my own. 
 
 As if no stem, but mine, had grown. 
 
 And so may'st thou, oh, soul of mine ! 
 
 Claim all the wealth of Love divine, 
 
MINE. 79 
 
 As wholly and entii-ely thine — 
 
 As if, upon this springing sod, 
 
 No knee had knelt, no foot had trod, 
 
 Save thine, the ojily child of God ! 
 
8o SURRENDER. 
 
 SURRENDER. 
 
 Sear Lord ! It does not seem to me 
 That I can yield this thing to 
 ^^^ Thee ! 
 It nestles in my heart so deep, 
 It surely must be 7?nne to keep ! 
 Thou wilt not take it, I am sure ; 
 Thou art so rich, I am so poor ! 
 
 Not that I do not love Thee, Lord ; 
 Oh ! best beloved ! most adored ! 
 But this sweet thing is dear to me, 
 Because it holds me near to Thee ; 
 Nor can I think its pure caress 
 Could ever make me love Thee less ! 
 
 And yet, dear Lord ! if Thou dost see 
 That this love keepeth aught from Thee ; 
 If it doth seem to intervene 
 Thy loving heart and mine between ; 
 Take it ! I would not do Thee wrong ! 
 Thou'lt take me to Thyself ere long ! 
 
IN ME MORI AM. 8i 
 
 IN MEMORIAM. 
 
 HE world is lovelier for our Father's 
 life— 
 And death less dreaded since we 
 saw him die. 
 His silent grave rebukes all earthly strife, 
 And fitly crowns the calmness of his life — 
 It is our sweetest shrine beneath the sky! 
 
 No spectral doubts or questions meet us 
 there — 
 To lay their chilling touch upon our 
 heart ; 
 But angel memories throng the peaceful 
 
 air, 
 And hopes wing forward into regions fair, 
 Where re-united love shall never part. 
 
 Oh blessed life — whose influences last 
 When the loved form is hidden from our 
 sight — 
 Whose very grave, a narrow archway, fast, 
 The Heavenly future, bindeth to the past — 
 And builds a bridge unto eternal light. 
 
ry^ 
 
 f mi „. "-IBRARY OF CONGRESS 
 
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