jxitk M^ ^etiPitU 
 
A Day With The Risen Lord 
 
 By 
 FREDERICK W. EBERHARDT 
 
 Author of 
 
 "THE QUEST OF ETERNAL LIFE" 
 
 1913 
 FREDERICK W. EBERHARDT 
 
 FRANKFORT, KY. 
 
76 3^0^ 
 
 Copyright 1913 by 
 
 FREDERICK W. EBERHARDT 
 
 Frankfort, Ky. 
 
 DC1.A346761 
 
HE CAME UNTO HIS OWN 
 
 1 heard Him calling me, and then I knew 
 The Lord had come unto His heritage, 
 To seek of me account of stewardship. 
 The claim so often made, that for His sake 
 I wrought as shepherd in His earthly fold. 
 Must now be weighed before His searching eye. 
 With one swift prayer I rose from off my couch. 
 E'er yet the gates of night had opened to the day, 
 And all the town lay wrapped within the robe 
 Of grateful slumber 'neath the watchful stars. 
 Led by His guiding spirit, forth I fared, 
 And lo! the night grew tremulous, and weird 
 And mystic movements filled the air around 
 With faint sweet sounds of twittering birds. 
 And swaying tree tops crooning cradle songs. 
 And soon the waning fires on high foretold 
 That day was near at hand ; the heavens became 
 
A sea of filmy cloud waves, and the light 
 Came, on wings wide-sweeping of the strong 
 Resplendent one, God's Angel of the dawn. 
 And then I saw Him, saw Him where He stood 
 Upon a slope, just where the Western road 
 Sweeps round the hill; parked with the friendly 
 
 green 
 Of junipers and crowned with a lordly house 
 That seemed in truth a castled paradise. 
 He stood in luminous divinity 
 As when on Hermon, He in glory shone 
 In presence of His friends, the favored three. 
 
 His gaze was on the city as it lay 
 
 A nest within the circle of the hills. 
 
 As though the great All-Fathers' mighty arm 
 
 Did hold it to His breast in sheltering love. 
 
 Then drawing near 1 gazed into His face 
 
 And oh, so kind it seemed. His eyes serene 
 
 Did banish fear and shame, and as I stooped 
 
To kiss His feet, He raised me up, and said 
 
 *"Tis well that thou so soon hast heard my call; 
 
 Peace be to thee and peace be on this town." 
 
 E'en as He blessed, the tears his eyes bedewed 
 
 As when on Olivet He mourned o'er doomed 
 
 Jerusalem, in poignant anguish bowed. 
 
 He wept, and yet a smile of holy joy 
 
 His countenance illumed, as though He saw 
 
 Some saving grace of righteousness among 
 
 The people waking to the life of this 
 
 Momentous visitation day of God. 
 
 Beneath us veiled in mist the forum rose; 
 
 The lovely dome that crowned its stately walls 
 
 In semblance floating like some city seen 
 
 In cloudland visions of the summer sea. 
 
 Close crowded in the vale appeared the homes. 
 
 And far above the busy marts of trade 
 
 The towers and sun-tipped spires did greet the 
 
 morn. 
 Yonder the high-raised square of prison walls 
 
Loomed gray and grim and cheerless 'gainst the 
 
 green 
 Of bursting buds of April tree-tops, and 
 Through snowy clouds of incense, which arose 
 From fruitful altars of the spring, there gleamed 
 The marbles of our unforgotten dead. 
 All this His glance surveyed and then He said: 
 "I come unto my own that here abide, 
 And think you those I love will welcome me?" 
 My answer was a prayer that He might come 
 In gracious charity and here abide 
 To test the welcome due His quest of love. 
 
II 
 
 THE KING'S DAUGHTERS 
 
 AND first He questioned me of those who 
 name 
 His name and join to do His work of 
 grace, 
 His mission beatific to fulfill. 
 For often those who most are strenuous. 
 Contending for the Christ and for His Church, 
 Deny His claim in fact, and yield to Him 
 No increase of His vineyards or His flocks. 
 Was it so here? My tongue refused me speech 
 So closely linked in life's affinities 
 Are we, that strife of contest blinds our eyes 
 With smoke of battle and of flying chaff. 
 The sweet alluring calls of love so near, 
 That rarely do we pause to judge the lives 
 That by our side drift heedless on to doom. 
 I thought of His disciples bound by ties 
 
Of covenant to worship Him, to give 
 
 Instruction in the way of Ufe, and do 
 
 Those works beneficent that once He wrought. 
 
 I marveled much to think how mean must seem 
 
 Our best oblation to His holy cause — 
 
 Our virtues passive, vices militant. 
 
 And not a few conformed entirely to 
 
 The life of selfish Dives or of Cain, 
 
 Who scorned their duty and the rightful claim 
 
 of God. 
 And then I answered: "Lord, 'tis faulty, all. 
 I dare not blame a brother; mine own blame 
 Subdues me, yet I know I love thy work 
 And know my fellow workers, in their hearts, 
 Are far more faithful in their love to Thee. 
 If thou wilt tarry in our midst this day. 
 The house we've set apart for holy use 
 Shall open wide its doors, and at Thy call 
 Thy saints shall gather to attend Thy will. 
 And oh, to see Thee stand and hear Thy voice 
 
As in the synagogues of Galilee, 
 
 No other rubric but Thy presence dear 
 
 To guide our hearts' devotion! that were joy 
 
 Ineffable our souls to satisfy. 
 
 In truth, dear Master, a.11 Thy servants here 
 
 Will open wide to Thee the door of every place 
 
 Wherein is wrought a kindly christian deed." 
 
 "Thou speakest well, " He said, "now gaze and 
 
 see 
 How some at least my coming would receive." 
 And then we stood just where the Eastern road 
 Drops into town with long and steep descent. 
 And soon I saw two strangers drawing near, 
 The one a man of lofty bearing was, 
 Though meanly clad, and, leaning on his arm 
 A woman young, and rarely beautiful. 
 Who walked with weary step the toilsome way. 
 There where the giant tulip trees o'ershade 
 A noble lawn, the playground for the wards 
 Of this our goodly commonwealth, she raised 
 
Her eyes in mute appeal to his strong face. 
 And, trembling, would have fallen where she 
 
 stood, 
 But that he clasped her in his arms and held 
 Her close as would a father some sick child. 
 I saw the look of quick distress with which 
 He hailed a passerby, and saw them stand 
 Awhile in question close; then holding still 
 His burden dear, he bent his steps to where 
 Not far away a friendly hospice stood 
 Provided "In His Name" for those in need. 
 With faltering hand he knocked for entrance 
 
 there, 
 And I did wait with bated breath as if 
 In presence of some mystery sublime. 
 Soon at his call there came a white-robed nurse. 
 Who bent on him and on his burden fair 
 A searching glance and bowed her head to hear 
 What his request might be. A moment passed 
 In which my heart did throb with nameless fear 
 
 10 
 
And then the door was opened wide in welcome. 
 
 And all at once I knew the meaning of the scene. 
 
 The Mother of our Lord had found a place 
 
 Where love and comfort joined to give to Her, 
 
 Instead of cave-stall near the crowded inn. 
 
 An ample shelter in her birth-hour need. 
 
 Too soon the vision passed but He remained. 
 
 I saw Him lift His hands in blessing tow'rd 
 
 The house, on which He gazed with eyes of love. 
 
 And, O, so glad 1 was when that I heard 
 
 Him say, "Well done, well done, my faithful ones. 
 
 Ye 'Daughters of the King.' Your ministry 
 
 Is not in vain, ye work as unto me." 
 
 Then turning round to where I stood, suffused 
 
 With happiness, He said, "fresh courage take 
 
 And know that while so many here 
 
 Are deep engrossed in earthly hopes of gain. 
 
 There still are those would gladly give me place. 
 
 If only they could realize that I 
 
 Am here among them, evermore their Lord." 
 
The Prayer 
 
 OThou who knowest my inmost thought. 
 And how my pride oft comes to naught; 
 Commiserate my poor estate, 
 For while I bow to supplicate, 
 My prayer is like some minor strain 
 Of mournful music wrought in pain, 
 
 Though all imbued with high desires 
 To join the choric harmonies, 
 
 And song antiphonal, which choirs 
 The angels' heavenly rhapsodies 
 To say how much I love Thee. 
 
 My love is not a saintly thing; 
 
 A sinner's love is all I bring. 
 
 From henceforth, Lord, I am content 
 To yield my powers with will intent 
 
 To serve Thee with submissive mind. 
 
And thankful take whate'er I find 
 Of bliss or pain, nor seek to please 
 
 Myself in aught, nor from Thee rove 
 In self-sought ways, nor long for ease. 
 
 Bearing all Thy grace to prove 
 To show how much I love Thee. 
 
 My love no lordly homage yields, 
 A poor slave's work in lowly fields 
 
 Is now the only boon I claim; 
 
 Thou wilt not let me ask in vain, 
 For still imperfect love secures 
 Thy power to babes, and still assures 
 
 Thy servants grace to magnify 
 Thy ministry to halt and lame, 
 
 And healing still doth glorify 
 In blind and dumb Thy shepherd name. 
 
 Who grateful own they love Thee. 
 
 13 
 
And so to Thee I dare avow 
 Me consecrate, nor will allow 
 
 A master's claim, O, Saviour mine. 
 
 Save that which by all right is Thine: 
 To follow Thee from Chinneroth's Sea 
 In penitent humility. 
 
 Through deserts vast, o'er blasted steep. 
 Begirt by Thee and by Thee led; 
 
 To feed Thy lambs and tend Thy sheep. 
 Though bound with chains, with torture fed. 
 
 That all may know I love Thee. 
 
Ill 
 
 THEY THAT PASS BY 
 
 THE day's full tide of hurrying toil began 
 To flow along the streets, when once again 
 We paused just where bridge that spans 
 the stream. 
 Which like a silver serpent winds its way 
 All through the town a slothful sinuous flood, 
 Doth open on the busy thoroughfare 
 Where County, State and Nation all converge; 
 And where in strange propinquity old Rome 
 Commingles with the tides of vital faith 
 That stands for freedom of the mind and soul. 
 "Hast thou observed the passers-by this day? 
 And dost thou comprehend that for each one 
 Myself and Satan are in mortal strife? 
 Are they to thee endeared because to me 
 And to my Father they are precious all?" 
 So spake the Risen One, and I replied, 
 
"Ah, Lord, indeed, indeed I love them well 
 And yearn to win their love in recompense; 
 I love their greetings in the market place 
 And joy to see the faces, e'en of those 
 Unknown by name, light up when that we meet." 
 And all the while the crowds were passing by. 
 Here groups of care-free chatt'ring girls and boys 
 With buoyant footsteps on their way to school, 
 And closely following, a motley throng 
 Intent upon the interests of the hour. 
 I marked the well groomed statesmen, on the 
 
 road 
 To fresh achievements, brushing ragged garb 
 Of some besotted human derelict; 
 And then the busy merchant, keen of eye 
 And step alert; the fair robed matrons; 
 The aged sire with furrowed brow and step, 
 Now palsied, bending to the grave; 
 The anxious toilers burdened with the task 
 Of daily bread, with little thought of God; 
 
 16 
 
Wee toddling babes, sweet opening buds of 
 
 Spring — 
 So passed they by: the rich, the poor, the clean 
 And unclean, young and old, both black and 
 
 white, 
 With laughter, tears and curses, moving on 
 In endless day-dreams of a fleeting goal. 
 "O, Shepherd of the Universal Fold, 
 At last, I said, how must I seem to Thee 
 No better than a hireling, false of heart, 
 Who never can be earnest in the task 
 Of rescue for Thy straying sheep who turn 
 To their own way with step deliberate. 
 And odious sin doth hide its deadly sting 
 Because so long familiar to my sight, 
 And duty owed to man for Thy dear sake 
 Is not discharged, and slothful indolence 
 Makes e'en the cross, on which Thou Lord did'st 
 
 die 
 In awful pain of sacrifice, seem but 
 
A vague sweet symbol, void of living power. 
 
 O, what a minister am I, alas! 
 
 Pity me and take me home with Thee; 
 
 I am not worthy of the trust conferred." 
 
 "Speak not of death," said He, "nor seek release 
 
 In coward flight. Be brave and faithful still; 
 
 Sometime thou'lt see how one true life 
 
 That shuns not daily witnessing for truth 
 
 Conserveth many lives and giveth light 
 
 To those who walk the road that leads to death. 
 
 Know too, that oft behind the mask of pride 
 
 And unconcern there is a heart that longs 
 
 For peace, and needeth but the master key 
 
 Of love to ope in glad surrender to 
 
 The King of love, the Lord of heaven and earth. 
 
 Stand thou between their need and His great 
 
 power. 
 Nor faint in weariness of doing well; 
 Thus shall thy ministry at last prevail 
 And of these careless passers-by there shall 
 
Arise some souls at last to call Thee blest; 
 For he who keeps the noxious weeds and briars 
 From only one small plot of fruitful soil. 
 His lowly labor shall not be in vain; 
 And he whose husbandry doth purge one life 
 From briars of doubt and weeds of base desire 
 Need not despair a harvest for the Lord. 
 Be steadfast then, and sow and reap, and where 
 Thou canst not reap, go glean and be assured 
 That many glean beside, in every field — 
 Brave, patient Ruth, and weeping Naomi, 
 Philip and Andrew, yea the son of man. 
 Sometimes the choicest head of ripened corn 
 Doth need the tender careful hand of love 
 To save or else the ruder shock of blade 
 Will shatter it and waste the precious grain. 
 Think well that all who pass you by each day 
 Are dearer far to God Most High than they 
 Can ever be to thee when loving most. 
 If they indifferent are to His appeal 
 
Count it not strange if they should be to thine. 
 
 But be thou earnest for the time is short 
 
 And all too soon the judgment day will come." 
 
 The Protest 
 
 IF the harp should say, some day, 
 I dislike the music men play on me 
 I know I could make sweeter melody 
 And chords more perfect in harmony 
 If left to myself to waken the spell, 
 So I will be harp and harper as well — 
 
 Wouldn't it be a foolish harp thus to say? 
 
 If the plow should say, some day, 
 I do not like the place of my toil 
 I know i could choose a better soil 
 And show for my work more corn and oil, 
 
 20 
 
If I managed myself, all must allow 
 So I will be plowman as well as plow — 
 Wouldn't it be a foolish plow thus to say? 
 
 If the man should say, some day, 
 I will be master alone of my fate. 
 And peer of the Lord to equal His state: 
 I am not content on His call to wait, 
 He makes life's music too sad for me. 
 His harp and His plow no longer I'll be — 
 Wouldn't he be a foolish man thus to say? 
 
 Ah, yes, for God is the master alway. 
 He alone knoweth the chords of truth. 
 Let Him play in the key of pain or ruth 
 Let Him make what music He will forsooth; 
 Let Him use me in service as He will. 
 Plow or plowman or instrument still — 
 Wouldn't we all be wiser thus to say? 
 
 21 
 
IV 
 THE THINGS THAT ARE CAESAR'S 
 
 THE sun's effulgent beams still from the east 
 Inclined, as up a spacious avenue 
 He walked with me, toward the capitol. 
 The crown of pride upon the valley's head. 
 When as we reached the terrace broad and wide. 
 Commanding prospect of the embracing hills. 
 He stood awhile in silence there, as when 
 Upon the pavement, once, of Pilate's hall He 
 
 stood, 
 Arrayed in tattered robe of royal hue and crown- 
 ed 
 A King, with thorns that pierced His brow, and 
 I could almost see again the maddened crowds 
 Of people surging like the sea in storm; 
 Could almost hear them clamor for the life 
 Of Him who came to give eternal life — 
 Could hear those two short sentences, which 
 
Still are sounding down the augmenting years, 
 "Behold the man!" and then, "behold your 
 
 King!" 
 "My master, would it be so now with us^" 
 I asked, and soft He answered, "No, oh, no. 
 Those that my right would champion are more 
 Than those that would oppose, in Caesar's 
 
 name." 
 Then while I much rejoiced to know His faith 
 In us did rest. He questioned me and asked: 
 "Of those now placed in Caesar's seat of power. 
 Placed there by voice of freemen for their weal, 
 How many think'st thou, use that power aright — 
 So use their power the state's good ship to guide? 
 Hast thou considered that this noble pile 
 May well become a forge Philistian 
 To fashion manacles for men free-born? 
 May this high columned splendor never look 
 On honor sold, ambition's height to scale; 
 These antechambers hear the whispered shame 
 
Of bartered privilege that undermines 
 The law's stability, through avarice. 
 More than the fiery scourge of treacherous war. 
 Pray that the itching lust for gold may ne'er 
 Invade these hails of council and these courts 
 Deliberate — that passion base that hath 
 Since Baalam's fatal day wrought havoc dread 
 With nations chosen of the Lord, and cursed 
 Great kings and satraps; priests and captains 
 
 high, 
 And even prophets — seers of holy truths — 
 Perverting justice oft, and breaking pledge 
 Of honor for the sake of luxury. 
 With lying lips ail blasted with deceit," 
 And 1, what could 1 say? for oft I'd asked 
 Myself, and oft of others asked, is this 
 Indeed a Christian state administered 
 In fear of God and for His people's sake? 
 Remembering too the tales so often heard 
 Of secret lobbies, sinister, yet bold 
 
To bribe if need be where they could not gain 
 
 By flattery or lure of wine or vice; 
 
 Thus thwarting the expressed will of those 
 
 Whose right inheres in clean majority; 
 
 Remembering too, how I had heard e'en those 
 
 Who called themselves true followers of Christ, 
 
 Plead on the open floor for laws to help 
 
 The hellish traffic in the drunkard's lust. 
 
 We stood in silence for a time, and then He spoke 
 
 Again and said, "How few like Samuel 
 
 Of old can give themselves to minister 
 
 For all the people's welfare, or give laws 
 
 Like him, the servant in the house of God, 
 
 The great law-giver, Moses, who received 
 
 His statutes from the hands of God, for that 
 
 He ever sought in rule to know the will 
 
 Of Him from whom all right to rule doth come. 
 
 Too oft, like Saul of Gibeah, men find 
 
 The taste of power in office doth excite 
 
 To bold contempt of duty and of pledge." 
 
With that the ascending flights of marble stairs 
 We cHmbed and passed into the council hall, 
 But every eye within was holden fast; 
 Nor was there any man could know Him nigh. 
 Then I. His messenger, did call and say: 
 "Men of the Commonwealth who gather here 
 In counsel for the welfare of our State; 
 The lawful Lord of this assembly stands 
 Within your midst; give honor unto Him 
 And seek to know His will in what ye do." 
 Then some did bow in lowly reverence 
 While others smiled disdain and mocked Him 
 
 there. 
 Still others talked of trivial things, or read 
 The news of passing vanities, nor knew, 
 That by the touchstone of His presence, they 
 Were being judged, inevitably judged. 
 O, men, who hold the reins of state-craft, know 
 That God is on the people's side. Concur 
 With Him in striving ever for their good ; 
 
And, if opposing selfish interests, 
 
 Ye find your efforts fail; think then that still 
 
 The Master bides His time and still He reigns; 
 
 And out of all the chaos of corrupting greed 
 
 Will come at last the better day for which 
 
 The blood and tears of patriots were shed: 
 
 The day when honest men in honest faith 
 
 Shall serve the state in fear of God and true 
 
 Devotedness of character, to bring 
 
 The Kingdom of our Lord and of His Christ. 
 
 The Warning 
 
 ALAS, for the moan of our wasted years; 
 To know we have spent our days in 
 
 vain, 
 To pass into judgment with naught 
 of gain. 
 With naught that abides when the grave appears. 
 
 28 
 
The dazzling splendor and dizzy height 
 Of proud ambition are not worth while: 
 Are worse than useless, and but beguile 
 
 The soul to defy Jehovah's might. 
 
 So hard to attain and harder to keep; 
 To be hurled at last with hideous dole, 
 The ghastly wreck of a vaulting soul, 
 
 With a harvest of endless remorse to reap. 
 
 O, ye who aspire to rule and sway. 
 
 Remember that power belongs to the meek; 
 And the might of the strong that honors the 
 weak. 
 
 Earns a crown more lasting than pine or bay. 
 
 To such the future holds never a dread. 
 And death is never a leap in the dark, 
 But a cradled fall to the shining mark 
 
 Of the Almighty Father's Arms, outspread. 
 
PHILATHEA 
 
 DOWN from the rampart of the western 
 heights 
 The glow of evening beamed upon the 
 town, 
 As forth we went into that quarter, named 
 In olden days in terms of foul reproach, 
 But now through civic conscience purified. 
 And through the work beneficent of church 
 And school uplifted from its slum. 
 Here soon we came upon a work of love; 
 A band of women who in Christlike ways 
 Did minister unto the needs of those 
 In thrall of poverty and slaves of sin. 
 From homes of plenty, and of ease, they came. 
 These saintly maids and matrons gently reared. 
 And all in kind humility they gave 
 
Themselves to visitation in His name. 
 
 And here they taught and here they prayed and 
 
 sang 
 Sweet hymns of faith to comfort those bereaved; 
 And here they gave their gracious charity. 
 Not hke some lady bountiful, in robes 
 Of trailing velvet and with jewels rare 
 And costly laces, tossing measured alms, 
 Right careful not to touch the beggars' rags 
 For fear contamination might defile; 
 But in true sympathy, as sisters of 
 The Nazarene they wrought in fellowship, 
 Nor shrank from menial service, e'en to give 
 Themselves as He, when washing Simon's feet. 
 With flowers, and smiles, and songs they minis- 
 tered. 
 And now returning, tired but happy, they 
 Rehearsed the day's full toll of varied joys. 
 So, as they passed, the Master beamed on them 
 A look of love ineffable and breathed 
 
In kindly whisper, "Know ye what ye clo> 
 
 Go on in peace, your deeds high heaven records 
 
 And what ye do to these, ye do to me." 
 
 So passed we on until we came to where 
 
 The river swerves toward the street, and there 
 
 A piteous scene of woe our eyes beheld, 
 
 A woman, branded with the scarlet sign 
 
 Of shame, who stood beside the water's edge. 
 
 With look despairing, as of one who seeks 
 
 Relief in death, yet fears to venture, still 
 
 Restrained by dread of awful entrance to 
 
 The woeful torments of the suicide. 
 
 There like some stained Ophelia she appeared. 
 
 Arrayed in tarnished remnants of the days 
 
 Of former affluence, the hire of guilt. 
 
 As when a rose that with her sisters grew 
 
 In blushing sweetness on the parent stem, 
 
 Is rudely plucked from off her fragrant seat 
 
 To grace the bosom of some haughty dame; 
 
 For one brief hour caressed, then cast aside 
 
To pine in withered sadness, till at last, 
 
 Trampled beneath the hurrying feet of men. 
 
 Her glowing heart forever stilled in death; 
 
 So seemed this wastrel creature in her mood 
 
 Of melancholy languor drooping there, 
 
 A prodigal of self and all her charms. 
 
 O, men, had you beheld the Master's face. 
 
 As all unseen He went to her relief! 
 
 Gently He laid on her His spirit hand 
 
 And at the touch a shudder shook her form; 
 
 Her eyes as founts of bitter tears became. 
 
 As falling on her knees, she looked to heaven. 
 
 And with that look her soul leaped back to God. 
 
 And feeble fires of faltering faith flamed up 
 
 In holy resolutions of a pure 
 
 And contrite womanhood, to live anew. 
 
 He spoke to her, but only to her heart 
 
 His message came, yet that did well suffice. 
 
 For as she turned her back upon the stream, 
 
 I knew she went to live in sin no more. 
 
Then questioned me the Holy One: "Where 
 
 now 
 Can such as she find help against the bows 
 And slings of social ostracism? 
 What are my people doing to provide 
 Encouragement and means of livelihood 
 To those abandoning their evil ways? 
 And thou, what hast thou done?" And I, "My 
 
 Lord, 
 Thou knowest from a child, such outcasts vile 
 Have loathesome been to me, for even now 
 I shudder when I see a face all marred 
 By base depravity, and own with self- 
 Reproach no care of mine hath wrought to save." 
 "And is it well," He said, "that those who want 
 God's pity most, should find no brother's hand 
 To guide, nor sister's kiss, to welcome home? 
 It was not thus, when as the son of man, 
 I called the prodigal to leave the rout 
 And ruin of satanic revelry 
 
 35 
 
To seek forgiveness in the Father's arms. 
 
 Be not afraid to follow me, nor fear 
 
 Defilement, like the Pharisees of old. 
 
 Count none too low to be beneath your care, 
 
 Nor deem all aspiration dead within 
 
 These sodden souls of Circe's swinish stys. 
 
 Cease not to pray for them, to pity them. 
 
 To warn them still, and let them know how they 
 
 Are missed from out the heavenly shepherd's 
 
 fold. 
 Let those once snatched as brands from burning 
 
 doom 
 Remember how their loathesome chains did gall. 
 And those who never knew the scorching flame 
 Of mad delirious delights of sins 
 That blast the soul e'er yet the body dies, 
 Be merciful and ever strive to save." 
 
 56 
 
The Lament. 
 
 HO. the far country! 
 See its gleaming battlements, and walls 
 And towers opaline, and gorgeous halls ; 
 Its banners flaunting gaily in the breeze; 
 
 Its lakes and iridescent waterfalls, 
 And multi-varied charms the sense to please 
 In the far, far country of sin! 
 
 Ho, the far country! 
 
 How enchanting are its labyrinthine ways, 
 And bright its golden coruscating rays; 
 How many bounding footsteps thither wend. 
 With passionate desire their choicest days to 
 spend 
 In the far, far country of sin! 
 
Ho, the far country! 
 
 How sweet the luring, laughing eyes. 
 
 The fair hands beckoning, and sighs 
 And songs of siren voices languishing 
 
 In olent dreaminess of paradise; 
 Bending to them youth's guileless wanderings. 
 
 In the far, far country of sin! 
 
 Ho, the far country! 
 
 Hot blood of youth leaps ever uncontrolled. 
 
 And will not brook the warning voice of cold 
 And sober counseling, but hastes away 
 
 To enter through the gates wide open rolled. 
 With gleeful welcome, and bright laughter gay. 
 
 In the far, far country of sin! 
 
Woe, the far country! 
 
 Behind those gates, the prodigal's reward 
 
 is dregs and husks; is bitter, hateful, hard 
 And scornful robbery of goods and name; 
 
 To herd with swine, with manhood marred 
 By sin's debaucheries and groveling shame; 
 
 In the far, far country of sin! 
 
 Woe, the far country! 
 
 So few there are who ever break its bars. 
 
 To come back home, and those who do, the 
 scars 
 Of blighting sin bear ever in the heart; 
 
 A shattered wreck, devoid of sails and spars; 
 Compelled with every wholesome freight to part 
 
 In the far, far country of sin! 
 
Woe, the far country! 
 
 How many noble sons in sacrifice 
 
 Are offered on its altars, what a price 
 They pay to touch the hidden deadly fire 
 
 That burns with secret flame of scorching vice 
 Within those courts of prodigal desire. 
 
 In the far, far country of sin! 
 
 Woe, the far country! 
 
 How terrible the death of those who die 
 
 In outcast darkness, with despairing cry 
 Banished from God and heaven, in night to 
 rove; 
 
 No road to hope from thence, no mercy nigh; 
 O, child come back to a gracious Father's love, 
 
 From the far, far country of sin. 
 
 40 
 
VI 
 EMMAUS 
 
 r NIGHT it seemed that all the winds of 
 heaven 
 Did hurl themselves upon the house and 
 
 cry 
 With Valkyr' fury; now and then they ceased 
 And seemed to pass away, impotent all, 
 But soon returned with greater vehemence, 
 That trembling brought, to wakeful watchers, 
 
 who, 
 Though knowing well that walls and deep 
 
 foundations were 
 Secure, yet waited each new climax fierce, 
 In apprehension dire, and breathed relief 
 When that assault did spend its futile rage. 
 As when the life that rests secure in Christ 
 Besieged by many winds and storms of trial. 
 Yet knowing He is able to protect. 
 
And trusts Him still, yet fears each new onset 
 And breathes with freer joy to know it gone 
 Leaving the soul unharmed in tranquil peace. 
 Into this strife of warring nature came the Lord, 
 Once more to question me. "Think you," He 
 
 said, 
 "That I would be a welcome guest within 
 The homes of rich and poor in this fair town-*" 
 And I, because my heart so often grieved 
 At ways of worldliness among my friends, 
 Did silent stand, for that I seemed to see 
 E'en as He spoke, the blazing splendor of 
 The myriad lights, and costly gems and flowers 
 And all the gracious hospitality 
 That wealth and culture know so well to give. 
 Now used in homage to the gods of earth. 
 Who rule by social favor, e'en the Bride of 
 
 Christ. 
 Here, whirling in the sensuous dance were those» 
 Who weary quickly of the house of prayer; 
 
 42 
 
And here the ruby sparkHng wine cup passed 
 
 From hp to Up, and here the devotees 
 
 Of fickle fortune's play of chance, absorbed 
 
 In strenuous pursuit of trifling spoil. 
 
 While all the while the Master's claim was still 
 
 Denied and rarely was His presence sought. 
 
 "My Lord, " I said at last, "I fear Thou'lt find 
 
 But few prepared to welcome Thee tonight." 
 
 "Nay, think not so, all homes are not so full 
 
 Of worldly cares, to banish me, for yet 
 
 In many doth the prophet's chamber wait 
 
 My coming thence, and Martha stands to serve 
 
 And Mary's costly spikenard, prepared 
 
 In love's sweet prodigality." 
 
 He touched my eyes, and lo, where I beheld 
 
 A mother cradling in her arms her babe 
 
 Whose dimpled hand, with clinging touch caressed 
 
 Her cheek, and in her song she sang of Him 
 
 Who loves and blesses little children too. 
 
 And called to Him, "Lord Jesus, come, and be 
 
Our guest tonight ;" and then He came and looked 
 On them and smiled, and on the mother's face 
 A look of heavenly peace did rest, and sure 
 He was to her a welcome, welcome, guest. 
 Again He touched my eyes, and then I saw 
 A father in frank converse with his son, 
 A manly boy, and all his words were of 
 The need of honest work, of noble deeds. 
 Of moral courage high, and chastity 
 That shuns contamination with the base. 
 And all ior Jesus' sake. I saw the boy 
 Look straight into his father's eyes, and heard 
 Him say, "My father for His sake I will. 
 And to my heart will welcome Him, and be 
 His man," and then they prayed, "Lord Jesus, 
 Take this life and make it Thine abiding place." 
 And lo, the Lord was there to bless them both. 
 And yet again I saw another home, 
 The lowliest of the low and those who dwelt 
 Therein were of the very poor, yet all 
 
Within was clean and sweet; one little lamp 
 
 Illumined there a cheerful group around 
 
 A table, bare, save for the sacred book. 
 
 I saw the latch uplifted, saw the glad surprise 
 
 On every face, as through the opening door 
 
 There came the Lord, who smiled on them, and 
 
 spoke 
 In benediction, "Peace, my friends, my peace 
 Be unto you. May I abide this night?" 
 And quick the answer came, "yea. Lord, abide 
 Beneath our roof, though all unworthy we. 
 For all we have is Thine, and we are rich 
 In honor, having here so great a guest." 
 Then I was satisfied that whether high 
 Or low, at morning, noon, or eventide, 
 Or night, still would He find an Emmaus; 
 Still find with us a home of Bethany. 
 
 45 
 
The Consolation. 
 
 MY life is stablished in the Lord, 
 I am in Him complete. 
 This house of mine is founded sure. 
 Its walls and cornerstone secure 
 Support me like some mighty rock, 
 A fortress in the fiercest shock 
 Of warring hosts in battle's clash, 
 And fiery thunder's loudest crash. 
 
 Would'st know how such a trust can be. 
 How any such security? 
 Why, Jesus Christ is my retreat, 
 My life in Him is all complete. 
 
 My daily food is from the Lord; 
 
 I am in Him complete. 
 The choicest fruits of earth I cull 
 From His fair orchards, and am full. 
 
 And coarsest fare becomes a feast 
 
 46 
 
Enriched by Him, and e'en the least 
 Hard loaf of barley, doth become 
 Ambrosia, where He makes His home. 
 Dost ask how this can ever be, 
 How such a blest sufficiency? 
 Christ Jesus is my manna sweet, 
 I feed on Him and am complete. 
 
 My hope of heaven is in the Lord; 
 
 In him I am complete. 
 I do not fear the fiends of sin. 
 For neither death nor hell can win 
 
 Against my captain's conqu'ring sword; 
 
 I rest me in His promised word. 
 Naught can unclasp His mighty arms; 
 No subtly sweet, seductive charms. 
 
 Car'st thou to know how this can be, 
 
 Why this immortal surety? 
 Why. I'm in Him. My safe retreat. 
 My way, my truth, my life, complete. 
 
VII 
 THE UPPER ROOM 
 
 NOW when the midnight hour had fully come, 
 I kneeled before Him in the upper room 
 And bowed my head. His blessing to re- 
 ceive. 
 My heart was sore at parting, yet I felt 
 A sense of peace as from a power within, 
 That now would leave me never more alone. 
 The day had brought new meaning to my task, 
 That henceforth must be met as in His eye. 
 Then as I felt His strong consoling arms 
 Drawing me close to His great heart of love, 
 He spoke once more to sooth my sorrowing soul. 
 "Rest here," He said, "the body wearies soon 
 Through carking cares of mind, when hard beset 
 In bearing others' weakness and woes 
 And faith doth fail when man doth scourge him- 
 self 
 
 49 
 
With needless blame for that which only God 
 
 Can alter, only God can ever mend. 
 
 Oft have you wrought to comfort other hearts, 
 
 Now let your heart abide awhile; be still 
 
 And let me hold you close and comfort you. 
 
 My Father hath his purpose of the ages, which 
 
 Doth still remain a mystery to man. 
 
 And even angels know it but in part. 
 
 Eternity and time; the bad and good; 
 
 The forces seen and unseen, near and far; 
 
 Nations, and men, and messengers of light; 
 
 Hades, and hell, and earth, and heaven too, 
 
 Are but the segments of the circle vast. 
 
 That compasses His all-embracing scheme, 
 
 And all his mighty working unifies 
 
 In me. His life-dispensing gracious love. 
 
 Man cannot weave the varied threads into 
 
 A web consistent all with finite minds. 
 
 So sighs and struggles in rebellion oft; 
 
 But day by day, and hour by hour, God works 
 
 50 
 
The strands of sorrow, joy, disaster dire. 
 
 And jubilant success, into the skeins 
 
 Of scarlet, gold and blue, and linen fine, 
 
 To make the finished tapestry at last. 
 
 On earth man sees the obverse side alone. 
 
 But God, who uses now the threads of black, 
 
 And now of red, the heart's blood stain, and hues 
 
 Of dull monotony. He knoweth why; 
 
 And He is mindful of His own, in life 
 
 Or death, and still remembers those who own 
 
 Him as their Father, glorified in love. 
 
 Your life is in His keeping, leave it there. 
 
 And leave the ord'ring of the way, to Him. 
 
 Go work and pray, while it is called today; 
 
 And know that He is back of all you do: 
 
 The cup of water cold; the widow's mite; 
 
 The alabaster cruse; the orphan's aid; 
 
 The prophet's chamber, and the house of prayer, 
 
 All have their place in His eternal plan." 
 
 O saints of God, my brethren and my friends, 
 
 51 
 
Come stretch yourselves upon His promises! 
 Rest there, be still and know that He is God. 
 Work! work! yea, work with holy zeal. 
 But do not break your hearts, if what ye do 
 Seems all in vain; it cannot be in vain. 
 God worketh still, and binds in one the work 
 Of Moses and Elias, through the still, small 
 
 voice 
 That breathed on Horeb, after storm and fire. 
 And still He carries on His task divine. 
 Through John's beheading, Stephen's martyr- 
 dom, 
 Paul's dungeon chains; through martyr fires 
 Of Nero's Rome; through Wyklif's ashes cast 
 In rage on England's streams; through Bun- 
 
 yan's jail; 
 Through Williams' banishment, and Gary's toil ; 
 And with their glorious deeds of faith and love 
 He joins your feeble efforts, and assures 
 That naught shall fail of sure success at last. 
 
 52 
 
"And now farewell; remember, though in form 
 You see me not, lo, I am with you still." 
 So vanished He from me, but only from 
 My earthly sight. His presence in my heart 
 Abides, and for His sake I give myself 
 Anew, to minister to those He gives 
 Unto His undershepherd's care. 
 
■iti