/..i^i'A w*"\«>^.\ /.'^i.-^^o m^ v^^ • cS^;^.*..*^ . O ;t* ,^ .^'% — STnmt — -bg- li 1911- "Where hast thou gleaned to-day? and where wronghtest thou ? * * * Gleaned in the field until even." Ruth. ^ True Gospel Grain Pub, Co. 1118 W. Spring St, Lima, Ohio, U. S. A. \\ Copyright 1911. By J. M. HUMPHREY. ©CI, A 300 9 76 PREFACE. TV /f Y purpose in presenting this little book, ^^ ^ is to supply our young christian people with some sacred pieces for recitations. Some- thing that can be conscientiously used in all phases of christian work, but especially in the Sabbath School and Young People's Leagues. I do not claim to have it free from mistakes or grounds for criticism. However, I have done my best under the circumstances, therefore I send it forth in the name of the Lord Jesus, trusting He may make it a blessing to some heart. Yours for the elevation of mankind, J. M. H. N.B. — All poems followed by a star. (*) are selected. SIIltB bank xb ntCtttwnuUln hthimUh tn unh ml|0 l|aur Inttg jstttre gnnr tn tl|^tr eternal remark. CONTENTS. Page A Dying Youth 54 A Vision of Heaven 23 A Dialogue 11 Beautitudes 41 Beneath His Care 36 Behold He Cometh 43 Creation 31 Dew Drops 17 Death 46 God's Big Book 39 He'll Meet Me at the River 56 Helen's Grave 35 I'm Dying 29 Mother's Death 9 My Birth 7 Misunderstandings 41 Mother's Prayers 26 New Year's Reflections 48 No Room in the Inn 62 Ode to the Bible '.... 64 Over the Line of Time 55 Out of the Storm 46 Secrets Revealed 32 The Missionary Plea 63 The Work of Time 33 The Lonesome Grave 60 To-morrow 2"] The Silent City 14 To a Skeleton 58 The Ramsomed Prisoner 22 The Soul /. 16 Tell Me Ye Winds 37 Why Should the Spirit be Proud 18 Will You be there? 57 When I get Home? 15 Beg Mother's Pardon 42 In Heaven 39 Human Woe 49 The Great Procession 13 The Resurection 2t Keep Sailing On 45 The Cloudless Life 35 Friends of By-Gone Days 28 The Alter Pledge 44 O^bamngs from lEmanuf la MY BIRTH. O, God of truth, Thou Holy One Do breathe on me, Thy humble son And help me sing with heart aglow My humble birth of long ago ! In eighteen hundred, seven and two, In June when all the buds were new: When roses bloomed so rich and gay And robbins sang throughout the day, When fiields were filled with Nectar sweet, Where bees did rove in bliss complete. Where zephyr breezes calm and sweet Did every bloooming flower greet. One Sabbath morning just at dawn. Ere' all the gloom of night had gone; From cabin hut, with rooms but two Beneath a willow wet with dew. Came words of gladness on the air From aged friends w^ho gathered there. 7 A new man-child in Time had woke, Such rapture all the silence broke! They gathered 'round the wood-chunk fire To praise the Lord and me admire : Yes, praising Him with mother dear For saving from all pain and fear. The sun did rise with glory bright And shown our way with great delight The roster who had herald day Could scarcely from the house stay 'way. The old pet dog did wag his tail As 'round and 'round the house he'd sail. The old milk cow did low with glee. - While all the neighbors came to see. MOTHER'S DEATH. When life's year clock had numbered twelve One thing occurred I ne'er could solve. Six son were we and daughters four In best of health but very poor. Our father labored every day To keep ''Starvation's Wolf" away. He taught us often of the Lord And warned us to obey His word. He spake of Heav'n that wondrous place Where we would go, if saved by grace. He also spake of death and hell Where wicked men go down to dwell. Our mother dear was pious too Tho' days of health but very few. I'll ne'er forget that August day When scarce 'twas noon, the time to pray; When neighbors ran from far and near, By field and road in doleful fear, To see our mother breathe her last, And by Time's boundary line go past. I see her now as there she lies While friends and neighbors sobbed and sigh- ed. The dews of death came o'er her brow And down her ghastly form did flow. She seemed to gaze beyond this sphere, From all her friends and loved one dear. Her hands grew cold, her tongue grew still Her form entire by death was chill'd. She crossed her hands, yet breathing low And closed her eyes and was no more. We children stood and wished she'd wake, And wept as if our hearts would break. But cold as stone she still remained And for no cause would lisp our names. Alas ! the doleful morning came When slowly marched the funeral train, To that far-off and lonesome spot Where Mirth and Pleasure are fororot. 10 A DIALOGUE. (First Child.) O, who are these arrayed in white And waving branchy palms Before the throng in glory bright And singing vict'ry songs? And tell me why they sing the songs? Of "Moses and the Lamb," And claim to be the children of the Holy Great "I am?" (Second Child.) These are they who washed their robes In the blood of Calv'ry's Lamb, Long ago, long ago: (First Child.) O, who are these that prostrate fall Before the Saviour's feet; And with a voice like thunder tone, Do His dear name repeat; While He, with tender lily hands Doth wipe away each tear. And from their pure and holy hearts Dismisses ev'ry fear? 11 (Second Child.) These were all redeemed from earth, . . Made joint-heirs by ''Second Birth," Thro' the blood, thro' the blood. (First Child.) O, who are these with starry crowns Much brighter than the sun ; And chaplets from the tree of Life Before the Holy One? Why talk they of Redeeming Love And of a ''Cleaning Blood" And why are they in each respect So like the Son of God? (Second Child.) These are they who loved His name, Bore the cross despising shame; All the way, all the way. (First Child.) O, who are these in argent fields Along the stream of bliss ; Where ^'Fadeless Youth" forever blooms In blood bought righteousness, And Calv'rys Lamb doth lead them forth Where living waters flow And hunger, sorrow, pain and death They'll never, never know? (Second Child.) These are they who kept the faith, Served Him. 'til discharged by death ; Praise His name, praise His name ! 12 THE GREiAT PROCESSION. Where goeth this unnumbered throng^ Of Adam's fallen race Who 're trav'ling down the road of time At such a rapid pace? They 're marching to the grave ! Why move they with such steady tread Both morning noon and night? And why doth health and beauty fail In their incessant flight? They 're marching to the grave ! Why hold they with such tiny cord The wealth, earth freely gave? And why are all their future plans Like bubbles on the wave? They 're marching to the grave! 13 THE SILENT CITY. I saw a town of marble piles Where willows waved o'er violets smiles. 'Twas all laid out in walks and squares And free throughout from worldy cares. The flowers bloomed, the birds did sing, The butterflies were on the wing. From bud to bud the bees did rove. While zephyr breezes fann'ed the grove. The proud and gay were all asleep, And widows there retired to weep. Distinctions vain, had flown away And all were equal in the clay. Some slept beneath a snow white stone Which only "Money Kings" could own ; And some no stone at head or feet, But died in Christ and rest was sweet. And those, who had no time for God Found time to die and turn to sod ; And handsome forms once fair and gay Were slowly turning back to clay. No one I saw in poverty And ev'ry slave was there set free ; They slept together, high and low, Awaiting Gabriel's trump to blow. Each dweller found a calm retreat. No rush of trade was in the street. The sighing brook, the musing wind. Did say to man, "Think of your end." 14 WHEN I GET HOME. When I get home to Father's house And see His smiling face, I'll praise Him for ''the chast'ning rod" That helped me win the race. When I get home to Father's house And worship at His feet, ril praise Him for each stormy gale That on my soul did beat. When I get home to Father's house And see my starry crown, ril praise Him for each trial here And ev'ry jeer and frown. When I get home to Father's house And hear the martyrs sing, ril see 'twas but a trifle here To die for Christ my King. 15 THE SOUL. The Soul is but the life of man, Which doth not die, nor ever can, 'Twill live as long as God on high, In woe or bliss while ages fly, O, what will you take for your Soul? 'Twas only made bright heav'n to share, And sing and praise with angels Tair In that blest land of love and light. Where goes no sin, no death, or night O, what will you take for your Soul? The world is ofif'ring fading toys ; Vain wealth and fame and fleeting joys But heaven offers more than gold, Yea, wealth which never can grow old, O, what will you take for your Soul? The Soul is now left in your trust. To save or lose the one you must; Will you sell out to death and sin. Or serve my Lord a crown to win O, what will you take for your Soul? 16 DEW DROPS. By-gone favors ne'er forgot But in mem'ry have their lot. Out of sight but not of mind, Cord of friendship still doth bind. One dear friend among the few Ever faithful, ever true. When absent from this cheerful spot, Tho' weal or woe may be my lot ; If mem'ry has a vacant cell Forget me not! To read and obey such a book as this Is truly the way to endless 1)lJss. That soul who on the Lord doth wait Will never, never be too late. Time seems dreary while I wait For thy message long and late. Tho' your sky be dark as night, Tho' your path be drear of bright. This will give you joy for aye: — That with Jesus you are right. 17 WHY SHOULD THE SPIRIT OF MORTAL BE PROUD? Oh, why should the spirit of mortal be proud? Like a fast flitting meteor, a fast flying cloud, A flash of the lightning, a break of the wave, Man passes from life to his rest in the grave. The leaves of the oak and the willow shall fade, Be scattered around and together be laid ; The young and the old, the low and the high, Shall moulder to dust and together shall lie. The child that a mother attended and loved. The mother that infants affection that proved. The husband and mother and infant that bless- Each, all, are away to their dwelling of rest. The maid on whose cheek, on whose brow, in whose eye, Shone beauty and pleasure, her triumphs are by, And the memory of them that loved her and praised, Are alike from the minds of the living erased. The hand of the king that the scepter hath borne. The brow of the priest that the r'''tve hath worn, 18 The eye of the sage, the heart of the brave, Are hidden and lost in the depths of the grave. The peasant v^hose lot was to sow and to reap. The herds man who climbed with his goats to the step, The beggar who wandered in search of his bread. Have faded away like the grass that we tread. The saint that enjoyed the communion of heaven. The sinner that dared to remain unforgiven, The wise and the foolish, the guilty and just, Have quietly mingled their bones in the dust. So the multitude goes, like the flower and the weed. That wither away to let others succeed. So the multitudes come, even those we behold, To repeat every tale that hath ever been told. For we are the same that our fathers have been. We see the same sights that our fathers have seen, We drink the same stream, and see the same sun, And run the same course that our fathers have run. The thoughts we are thinking, our fathers would think; From the death we are shrinking, they too would shrink; 19 To the life we are clinging, they too would cling; But it speeds from the earth like a bird on a wing. They loved, but their story we cannot unfold ; They scoured, but the heart of the haughty is cold; They grieved, but no wail from their slumbers may come ; They joyed but the voice of their gladness is dumb. They died-aye, they died ; and we things that are now, Who walk on the turf that lies over their brow, Who make their dwellings a transient abode, Meet the changes they met on their pilgrimage road. Yea hope and despondency, pleasure and pain. Are mingled together like sunshine and rain ; And the smile and the tear, and the song and the dirge, Still follow each other like surge upon surge. 'Tis the wink of an eye, 'tis the draught of a breath. From the blossom of health to the paleness of death, From the gilded saloon to the bier and the shroud. Oh, why should the spirit of mortal be proud? (*) 20 THE RESURRECTION DAY. Will my complexion e'er come back, My cheeks with health aglow? Will I be young and handsome too, As I was long ago? Yes, the Resurrection Day. Will all my members be restored From death's dark prison cell And I, in virture stand complete Like man before he fell? Yes, the Resurrection Day. Will all my loved ones e'er come back Who're now beneath the sod ; Who left me weeping long ago And went to meet their God? Yes, the Resurrection Day. And shall I know them all again As when they went away And will they love and talk with me As on their dying day? Yes, the Resurrection Day. And shall I be from sorrow free, And all of sins bequest, And will I ever reach the clime Unknown by "Reaper Death?" Yes, the Resurrection Day. And will my soul and body too Go up with angel flight. To see my Saviour face to face And dwell with Him in light? Yes, the Ressurection Day. 21 THE RANSOMED PRISONER. When in sin's prison house I sat, 'Neath justice's dire decree; The Lord was moved with great concern To ransome even me. When mute before a broken law Without one hope or plea; The never failing sinner's Friend Did intercede for me. When I was clothed in sin and shame, And deeply dyed with guilt ; He washed me in His precious blood Which for my soul was spilt. When drifting far away from God, On sins tempestuous sea; The line He threw from Calvary, Was caught and rescued me. 22 A VISIT TO HEAVEN. One day at home while all alone I knelt to worship at the throne ; A tranguil feeling came o'er me, And from the body set me free. My soul was borne by angels fair So mildly on the balmy air ; From earth and ev'ry hill and dale, Like fleets swept by the wintry gale. I quickly passed the moon so bright, The silver queen of silent night ; And passed the sun and ev'ry star. Than lightning speed, more swift by far. And on and up past chiming wqrlds. Which God's great pow'r has ever whirl'd What wondrous objects met my sight — The diamond tow'rs aglpw with light; The sparkling domes and snow-white mounds, Were seen before we crossed time's bounds. I saw the shining jasper walls And heard ten thousand angel calls; The pearly gates stood open wide, With beck'ning saints on either side. I heard the holy angels sing. While that bright clime with music rang. 23 I passed the gates of lucent pearl Into that fair and happy world. I saw that Great Eternal One, Whose face was shining as the sun, Exalted on a throne of white, *'As with a garment clothed with light." The streets were paved with burnished gold. A sight most wondrous to behold. No sun or moon or star was there To luminate that world so fair, For God and Christ did furnish light, One perfect day undimmed by night. Bright throngs I saw of angels fair," Who knew no pain, no toil, or care. Their faces glowed with holy joy. For naught could there their peace destroy. Their robes were made of ambient light And tipped with gold; a wondrous sight! Like liquid music on my ear Their voices sounded far and near. I saw the ransomed saints from earth As they redemption's songs rehearsed, Upon those shining harps of gold Such melodies that can't be told. I saw the mansions, rich and fine, A thousand times the sun outshined. Bedecked with jasper, pearl and gold. And light congealed which ne'er grow old. I saw the trees of crystal green, 24 Such sights on earth has not been seen. On each did bloom melliferous fruity Which grew prepared each taste to suit. The hills were draped with flower'ts gay, Which bloomed for one eternal day. The limpid sky which knew no night Was truly one most glorious sight. The buxom air was pure and mild, And filled with fragrance all the while. No tears were known on that blest shore, And pain and death were felt no more. On each prepetual youth did bloom, Dispersing all decay and gloom. And life's pure river, deep and wide, Where amber waters ever glide, Was flowing from the great throne white From God, the fount of love and light. On either side life's tree stood pure, Whose leaves were for the nation's cure. While bathing in this nectar stream, I 'woke and found it but a dream. 25 MOTHER'S PRAYERS. There burned an incence long ago In father's rural home; That left a fragrance in my soul That goes wher'ere I roam, — 'Twas mother's prayers. There is a sound that never dies That's ringing in my ear; It sounds throughout the livelong day And brings me words of cheer, — 'Tis mother's prayers. I feel a great restraining pow'r When nearing evil's path ; That keeps me from the tempter's snares And all his rage and wrath, — 'Tis mother's prayers. There is a light that on me shines In ev'ry busy street ; It helps me see the ''Golden Rule" And guides my err'ing feet, — 'Tis mother's prayers. I'm safely kept from ''error's rock" On doctrines shoreless sea; And daily made to know the truth No matter where I be,— Thro' mother's prayers. An unseen friend before me walks Who's armed with sword and stave; Who op'ns wide the prison door. And smites death's threat'ning wave,- 'Tis mother's prayers. '^TO-MORROW." O, baneful word, thou germ of woe, Indulged so oft by friend and foe, On land and sea, where'er we go, — Thou false ''To-Morrow !" Thy path is strewn wiht pain and grief, And ruined hopes so vain and brief, Which faded like a blasted leaf — O, vain '^To-Morrow!" Thy hands are stained with human gore ; Thy counsel. fraught with Satan's lore, Which sinks the soul to rise no more — Thou thief, 'To-Morrow !" Before thy long approaching dawn May come grim Death and Gabriel's horn, And that rein-trying judgment morn. It's "Now" or "Never!" 27 FRIENDS OF BY-GONE DAYS. I'm thinking of friends of long ago, Who're now in heaven with Jesus I know, Arrayed in withe on the crystal sea ; Waiting and watching each moment for me. O, how they were pressed while here below, By Godless sinner's both high and low; But now they've reached their father-s home. Where pain, grief and death can never come. I'm also thinking of mother dear, Who taught me Jesus to love and fear ; Who went up there, from the old home lands, And now is calling with beck'ning hands. Me thinks I can see that white robed throng, And hear them singing redemptions son And playing upon those harps of gold. Sweet melodies that never grow old. Over the bounds they are gazing now. With crowns of glory upon their brows And palms of victory in their hands, — Calling me up to the heav'nly lands. 28 T AM DYING. I am dying; Life seems like a vapor rising, Leaving my poor human form In a stupor, strengthless lying, Lifeless, helpless without power, Till that awful, solemn hour When the dead from every clime At the closing up of time Rise to meet their Judge severe, Quaking terribly with fear. Friends can't help me, breath is leaving, In my bosom trembling, heaving, Lies my will with all its power Rising, crying that this hour Shall not close my earthly time, For I dare not cross that line Die and in eternal gloom Meet my dreadful, fearful doom. Hours seem weeks, as slowly flying O'er me while I here am dying. O, I'm sinking! can it be This dread hour has come to me? 29 I, who loved earth's fleeting pleasures And admired its pride and treasures; Laughed at danger, mocked at God, Was at nothing solemn, awed ; Lie here moaning, trembling, crying; Hope all gone and am I dying? I am dying. Life is leaving slowly, surely, I am going now most truly. Strength grows less each respiration, Still my heart's determination Cries with all its fainting power, No, I cannot die this hour. But I see that far off shore From which none return no more. (''') 30 CREATION. My mind flies back o'er ages gone Before the earth or man was born ; When all was wrap't in chaos night A howling waste, far-off from light. Methinks I hear the great God say To Christ in heav'n one blissful day; — ''Since from this place Thou Satan hurl'd Go in my might and build a world ; With hills and dales and waiving plains And flow'rs and fruits and golden grains. With beast and birds of ev'ry hue And fish and insects, not a few. So out from heav'n the Saviour came With all His host, O, praise His name! His wheels were staid in empty space While darkness fled before his face. His voice rang out thro' slumb'ring night In thunder tone — '^Let there be light" So in six days the mighty One Created earth and moon and sun ; And man and beast and ev'ry tree And flow'ry vales, and all we see. Then back to heav'n He took His flight With all His army clothed in light. The sons of God began to shout And heav'n with praises rang throughout. 31 SECRETS REVEALED. Those secrets hidden in thy soul, Which to no man thou wilt unfold, Will all be known from pole to pole. When at the judgment all is known. Each thought that harbors in thy breast. Where evil long has made its nest ; Will be rehearsed from east to west, _ When at judgment all is known. How wealth was gained will then be told. And lawyers orphan's bounty stole; 'Twill all be known by ev'ry soul, When at judgment all is known. Yes, all your dealings, God must scan, With ev'ry motive, wish and plan ; And then expose to cherub and man, When at judgment all is known. That awful crime you hid back there, Once more'll be met and dealt with square. And you reap for it dire despair. When at *ndgment all is known. 32 THE WORKS OF TIME. Who plucked away my childhood bloom, My rosy cheeks so gay ? Who filled my life with sorrow's gloom And ended all my play? — The great Despoiler — ''Time." Who wrinkled up my handsome face That once was smooth and fair? Who set my teeth all out of place And frosted up my hair? — The great Defacer — ''Time." Who took away my nimble gait And made me walk so slow? Who made my blood at such poor rate Throughout my body flow? — The Mitigater^"Time." Who strewed my path with "blasted hope" And prospects withered leaves? Who severed love's conjugal rope That bound the fam'ly sheaves? The great Destroyer— "Time". 33 Who took the load of grief from me And banished ev'ry tear, When 'nea'th the sighing willow tree I laid my loved ones dear? — The Consolater — "Time." Who rolled the tide of slander back With all its waves of shame And baffled ev'ry rude attack To cover up my name? — The great Explainer— "Time." Who brings us all to "equal plain" And turns us back to clay? \Vho proves to ev'ry mind and brain The truth of ''Judgment Day?"— The great Convincer — "Time." 34 THE CLOUDLESS LIFE. What wonderous love doth fill my soul, While in God's will I live ; What waves of glory o'er me roll As all to Christ I give. My sun of bliss does ne'er go down My moon it never sets ; Unfading spring each year doth crown, With fruitful righteousness. And now the blessed Holy Ghost My inmost being thrills ; All sight of transient things is lost And Christ my visions fills. Now heaven has begun below In this glad heart of mine ; Earth's darkest den seems all aglow With love and light divine. HELEN'S GRAVE. At morn a dew-bathed rose I pass'd, All lovely on its native stalk. Unmindful of the noonday blast, That strewed it on my evening walk. So when the morn of life awoke, My hopes sat bright on Fancy's bloom, Unheedful of the death-aimed stroke, That laid them in my Helen's tomb. Watch there, my hopes, watch Helen sleep ! Nor more with sweet-lipped Fancy rave But, with the long grass, sigh and weep, At dewy eve by Helen's grave. (*) 35 BENEATH HIS CARE. Christ will not forget to keep me, No, He never, never will ; But He'll furnish grace and glory And my soul shall fear no ill. Christ will not forget to help me, Thro' the winding path of life ; And in sorrow's lonely valley, Give me courage in the strife. Christ will not forget to cheer me, When hope's fires are burning low And the tidal wave of pressure. O'er my little bark doth flow. Christ will not forget to meet me, When this fleeting life is o'er, And I'm standing on the margin Of the everlasting shore. 36 TELL ME YE WINDS. Tell me ye winged wind, That round my pathway roar, Do ye not know some spot Where mortals weep no more? Some lone and pleasant dell, Some valley in the west, Where free from toil and pain The weary soul may rest? The loud winds dwindled to a whisper low, And sighed for pity as it answered, "No." Tell me thou mighty deep, Whose billows round me play, Know'st thou some favored spot. Some island far away. Where weary man may find The bliss for which he sighs, — Where sorrow never lives, And friendship never dies? The loud waves, rolled in perpetual flow. Stopping for a while, and sighed to an- swer, — "No." 37 And thou, serenest moon, That, with such lovely face. Dost look upon the earth, Asleep in night's embrace, Tell me, in all thy round Hast thou not seen some spot Where miserable man. May find a happier lot? Behind a cloud the moon withdraw in woe. And a voice, sweet but sad, responded,- "No." Tell me thou ancient Holy One, Who dwelleth up on high, Dost thou not know some clime Where pleasures never die? Some land of fadeless day. Some place forever blest Where souls who love Thy law May dwell in perfect rest? The gracious, tender, loving Lord so true, Responded in an instant, "Yes I do." (''') 38 GOD'S BIG BOOK. I've heard of a book with pages fair, In God's great court house of gold ; Which has our actions recorded there, In letters that never grow old. A perfect account of every deed, Done while we lived here below ; Which Jesus some day to all will read, When Gabriel his trumpet shall blow. O, then we'll know who on earth was right, And walked in the holy way; When from those beautiful pages white, The Lord will man's record display. IN HEAVEN. If life's so pleasant right down here, What will it be, without a care, — In Heaven. If creatures here, so sweetly sing, What will it be to hear their King, — In Heaven. If this small sun doth shine so bright, What must it be where all is light,— In Heaven. 39 If flowers here, so richly bloom, What must they be beyond the tomb, — In Heaven. If here the Lord, is felt so near, How will it be, when we get there, — In Heaven. If worship, is so glor'ous here, What will it be, away up there, — In Heaven. If friendship here, is such a treat, What will it be in bliss complete, — In Heaven. If landscape here, cause such ado. What must it be in fadeless hue,— In Heaven. If mansions here, are rich and fine. What must they be of skill Divine,— In Heaven. If music here so captivates. What must it be beyond ''Death Gate,"— In Heaven. If beauty here, is such a prey What must it be, without decay,— In Heaven. 40 THE BEATITUDES. (Matt. 5.) Blessed are those in spirit poor Heaven is theirs, they'll want no more. Blessed are they who mourn and sigh, Boundless comforts from God are nigh. Blessed are they who're true and meek They shall gain earth which sinners seek. Blessed are those who thirst for right They shall be filled with grace and might Blessed are they whom love has won Mercy is theirs when life is done. Blessed are they whose hearts are pure They shall see God their Maker sure. Blessed are they who seek for peace Reigning with Christ shall never cease. Blessed are they who're pressed for right Heaven is theirs and a robe of white. MISUNDERSTANDINGS. We may be here misunderstood By enemy and friend ; But God who loves and knoweth all Will try the hearts of men. We now from men bear lots of blame For ills we know not of; But by and by they'll blush with shame When God the mystr'ys solve. Our path may now be strewn with grief And foes on either side; 'Tis leading home to blest relief Just o'er the Jordan tide. 41 So let us now fresh courage take Whate'er our lots may be ; Immortal joys will on us break When Jesus' face we see. BEG MOTHER'S PARDON. As I look back to when a boy, And think how I did *'Ma" annoy, I'd like to beg her pardon! And when I think how oft I stray'd And o'er and o'er her disobey 'd ; I'd like to beg her pardon! And even now it comes to mind. How oft I spake to her unkind, I'd like to beg her pardon! And, O, how oft I made her weep ! And more than once to loose her sleep ; I'd like to beg her pardon! I'm thinking too, when far away I wrote her not for many a day I'd like to beg her pardon! She sacrificed to comfort me, But her I left for fun and spree; I'd like to beg her pardon! When summoned to the old home-land, As 'round her coffin we did stand, I yearned to beg her pardon ! When visiting the old church yard, Where lies her form beneath the sward I weep to beg her pardon ! 42 BEHOLD HE COMETH. At last the day of reck'ning, Has dawned upon us all ; And found earth's teeming millions, Unfit for Jesus call, And lo, He's coming in the clouds. The throng of unbelievers. Who slept beneath the sod ; Have woke in consternation, To meet the Son of God ; For He's coming in the clouds. The earth is veiled in darkness. And quakes from pole to pole, While flaming wrath and vengeance, Like mighty torrents roll ; For He's coming in the clouds. The saints with holy rapture. Have gone without a doubt, To meet the King of Glory Who cometh with a shout, For He's coming in the clouds. The line of demarcation, The good and bad divides. While thro' the rifted heavens, The mighty Conqu'er rides ; For He's coming in the clouds. He's all ablaze with terror. The lightning's in His hand, Before Him worlds are fleeing, O, who is able t' stand? For He's coming in the clouds. 43 THE ALTAR PLEDGE. I made a pledge with Christ my Lord With Him to always walk; The narrow'st of the "narrow road," And never, never 1)alk. I made a pledge with Christ my Lord To heed what e'er He'd say ; And all my words and actions guard So from Him Ld not stray. I made a pledge with Christ my Lord To render all my store ; And never, gold or silver hoard, But share it with the poor. I made a pledge with Christ my Lord To walk in all the light ; No matter how my will it bored, Ld walk with heart contrite. I made a pledge with Christ my Lord Ld to this world be dead; Tho' all my friends made it their lord Ld never lift my head. I made a pledge with Christ my Lord To live in judgment light ; Tho' others could some guile afford, Vd keep my "motive" white. 44 KEEP SAILING ON! Tho' long may be the voyage of life O'er Time's tempestuous sea ; And ev'ry hope of reaching port Like shadows swiftly flee : Keep sailing on! keep sailing on! Tho' angry winds beset thy bark And rudely 'gainst it blow; And billows like a tidal wave With fury o'er it flow : Keep sailing on! keep sailing on! Tho' fogs of doubt may gather 'round Engulfing sea and land ; And all along thy homeward course Lie rocks and sinking sand : Keep sailing on! keep sailing on! The Christ of old is still aboard Who ruleth wind and wave ; And, as in sinking Peter's day He still hath pow'r to save : Keep sailing on ! keep sailing on ! 45 OUT OF THE STORM. Cheer up pilgrims it won't be long 'Till thy labor on earth is done, And the Lord will call thee home Never, never more to roam. Out of the storms of sin and strife, And the burdensome cares of life ; Home beyond death's swelling tide Where no evil can abide. Out of the storm of speechless grief Where no mortal can bring relief: Then thy night will turn to day And thy sorrows flee away. Out of the storm of slander's tongue^ And the scornings of old and young; Then with all the pure and blest Thou shall have eternal rest Out of the storm of pois'nous breath Divers diseases, age and death ; In Emmanuel's land of wealth To enjoy unfailing health. DEATH. There is a Foe at your right hand That's armed with God-like pow'r; Who wrecks his throngs in every land, Yea, millions ev'ry hour ! — It's Death! There is a Vale of midnight gloom Which links yon world to Time ; Where men foretaste their coming doom. 46 Or matchless bliss sublime. — It's Death! There is a Stranger in the land Who visits ev'ry home ; He daily works on ev'ry hand, But yet he's still unknown — It's Death! There is a Chief who takes no bribe Tho' offered all the globe ; He slays them all, of ev'ry tribe. In rags or princely robe — It's Death! There is a Foe that's lurking near Who's heartless as a stone, Who seeth not the widow's tear, Nor heeds the orphan's groan — It's Death! There is a Sage instructing men, Convincing one and all : Of heav'n and hell at this life's end, But "Late" on God to call- It's Death! There is a cold and icy Hand That's never lost its grip ; It binds the soul with great command ; And makes to Hades a trip — It's Death! There is a dark and rueful stream 'Tween this and worlds unknown ; On whose proud waves no hope doth beam And sinners wade alone — It's Death! 47 NEW YEAR REFLECTIONS. We're one more season nearer Our long eternal home ; And one brief year of service, Is now forever srone. & We're one more season nearer The ending of the fight ; When war will cease forever, The wrong against the right. We're one more season nearer That vast and dismal main ; And much in need of reapers To reap the golden grain. We're one more season nearer Our long and lonesome sleep ; Beneath the sighing willo^ Or in the briny deep. )W We're one more season nearer The close of *^Gospel day" ; When men shall quake with terror And to the mountains pray. We're one more season jiearer The great tribunal throne, Where Christ shall bid us "Welcome" Or with contempt disown. 48 HUMAN WOE. One cup there was dealt out to man, The worst of all since time began To rich and poor, both high and low, It was the cup of human woe. See yon poor widow in the streets Who seeks relief of all she meets! She has no child, no friend, no home, But in the cold wide world must roam. And as she goes from place to place. The doors are shut up in her face. Her tear stained cheeks are pale and thin And hunger fiercely gnaws within. At last in want without a friend; Her rueful hopeless life doth end. In deepest solitude she dies And soars to bliss beyond the skies. No toll is heard from yon church bell ; No friend to mourn her long farewell, No nodding hearse with flow'rs by No casket fine in which to lie ; No tomb stone high to mark the spot; No mossy bed to dress the lot. But in a common box she lay Which scarcely shields her from the clay. Among the paupers of the slums. To quietly wait till Jesus comes. 49 The next, a rueful drunkard's home Where peace and pleasure never come. No food was there for wife or child ; No gentle word but curses wild: No happy wife with shining face ; No carpets gay to deck the place. His home entire was filth and rags ; His children clad with strings and tags. They never knew a happy day Nor saw their father bow to pray ; Nor ever saw their mother smile, But sad and gloomy all the while. Her grief was like a shoreless sea ; Yea, boundless as emensity ! I'll ne'er forget the wintry night When all around with snow was white, And this lone family had no fire But cold and damp they did retire, A shivering heap upon the floor. Alas! to 'wake on earth no more. 'Twas long before the dawn of morn, Or e'er the gloom of night had gone. When this poor wife in death was calm With all her babies on her arm. The frozen tears stood in her eyes ; True sis^n that she in sorrow died : ■fc>' The next, was homes devoid of love That priceless ''blessing" from above. 50 That fount, of sure domestic bliss Which mortals can't afford to miss. Some wed for wealth and some for fame Who never felt the "true love flame" And after sharing- life awhile They on each other ceased to smile. The wife grew sour and discontent And oft her marriage did lament. The husband too, grew hard to please And more than once resolved to leave. Their home was sad tho' much was there Of earthly grandeur rich and rare. Ah ! life was irksome to them both Each did the others presence loathe; They scarcely ever could agree, And on no point the same could see. Tho' on the street they wore a smile Within, was sadness all the while. The next, was grief from broken hearts Which seemed more vile than Death's dread darts. Its victims most were womankind Who drank the most of love's sweet wine. One I remember long a go An awful sight of female woe. She was her mother's only child : Her life was pure and undefiled. There came a man with much fair speech 51 Her heart and hand, to all beseech ; Her childish heart he lured and won, And thus became her star and sun. His voice was like an angels song, His smiles were like the dawning morn. His presence scattered all her gloom, His absence withered all her bloom. Her lover fair all night she saw He filled her dream with blissful awe. At last the joyous day was fix'd To wed in love and bliss unmix'd. The time was spent in joyful song Tho' oft .appearing twice as long. At last the happy hour came When fathers fatted calf was slain. Her many friends and neighbors kind O'er flowed the place with presents fine. The preacher came, blest man of God To bind with truth the sacred cord. The maiden sits in blissful dreams An angel more than human seems. The march was set for half past nine The maids and friends were all in line Awaiting with attentive ear To hear the gallant groom appear . But news came in with thunder sound Which all the party did confound, *'He joined a girl that eve at four And left in haste for Englands shore." 52 '^Farwell" he sent the maid behind And ''Notes" received from time to time. She threw her form upon the floor And screamed aloud and was no more. I mention one example more, The worst I've seen on Time's dark shore 'Twas one who slighted Mercy's cup And by the Spirit was given up. I saw him on his dying; day, When earthly hopes had flown away. His future plans were tumbling down And nature all on him did frown. The sky grew dark and wrathful too While lightnings burned with fiery hue. The thunders bellowed loud and long And angry winds took up the song. This poor lost man tried hard to pray, And from the devil tear away. He called good men to pray and fast, But all the heavens seemed as brass. The pow'rs of hell did so prevail. They thought they heard the demons wail, His awful groans and fiendish shrieks Made e'en those men new quarters seek. Infernal gloom now filled the room ; O, awful pledge of coming doom ! And thus, with woe too deep to tell And anguish e'en deeper than hell, He shrieked and howled and died. 53 A DYING YOUTH. My youthful mates, both small and great Stand here and you shall see ; An awful sight, which is a type Of what you soon must be. I once appeared so fresh and fair Among the youthful crows; But now, behold me dead and cold Wrap'd in a sable shroud. My cheeks once red, like rosys spread. My sparkling eyes so gay; But now you see how 'tis with me This lifeless lump of clay. When you are dressed in all your best And fashioned so complete; You soon must be as you see me Wrap't in a winding sheet. Ah ! you beware, and do prepare To meet the monster death ; For he may come when you are young And steal away your breath. When you unto your frolicks go Remember what I say ; For a short time, though in your prime You may be called away. 54 Now I am gone, I can't return, No more of me you'll see But it is true that all of you Must shortly follow me. When you unto my grave shall go A gloomy place you'll see : I say to all who stand and view Prepare to follow me. {'^) OVER THE LINE OF TIME. Only this short and vain retreat Earthly duties to make complete. Then forever at Jesus' feet Over the line of Time. Only a step and then we'll be Ever from pain and sorrow free Home for a whole eternity — Over the line of Time. Only a fainting heart to fail Then we'll pass death's shadowy vale- Safe where no foe shall e'er prevail- Over the line of Time. Only an hour with Christ the Lord In those fadeless gardens of God, Pays for all the toils of the road — Over the line of Time. 55 HE'LL MEET ME AT THE RIVER. When my stay on earth is ending And life's fading like a dream ; I am sure my Lord will meet me Down at Jordan's icy stream. When my strength for pray'r is failing And by hell my faith's assail'd Christ of old will then uphold me Who o'er Death and Hell prevail'd. When my frail and sinking spirit Waits its summon in suspense; And beholds the rushing waters Christ will be my soul defense. When my long imprison'd spirit From its mortal house is freed ; And I'm facing unknown regions, Christ will be my guide to lead. When I reach the New Jerus'lem Far beyond this fleeting world ; I will sweep with my redeemer Thro' the gates of lucent pearl. 56 WILL YOU BE THERE? When the battle shall be done And the vict'ry ever won ; When we lay our armors down x\nd from God receive a crown — Tell me friend will you be there? When the saints from East and West Who thro,' Christ has stood the test ; All around the throne shall stand Blest for aye at God's right hand — Tell me friend will you be there? When those wondrous songs begin Led by saints redeemed from sin ; And the palms of victV}^ wave Over Death, hell and the grave — Tell me friend will you be there? When w^e rove the fields of light Clad in robes of spotless white, W^here the flowers never fade And no evil ever shade ; Tell me friend will you be there? 57 TO A SKELETON. Behold this ruin ! 'Twas a skull Once, of etherial spirit full This narrow cell was life's retreat ; This space was thoughts mysterious seat. What beautious visions filled this spot? What dreams of pleasure long- forgot? No hope, nor joy, nor love, nor fear Have left one trace of record here. Beneath this mouldering canopy Once shone the bright and busy eye ; But start not at the dismal void If social love that eye employed ; If with no lawless fire it gleamed, But through the dews of kindness beamed, That eye shall be forever bright Where stars and suns are sunk in night. Within this hollow cavern hung The ready, swift and tuneful tongue. If falsehood's honey it disdained, And when it could no praise was chained, If bold in virtue's cause it spoke Yet gentle concord never broke. 68 This silent tongue will plead for thee When time unvails eternity. Say, did these fingers delve the mind, Or with the envied rubies shine? To hew the rock or wear the gem Can little now avail to them. But if the page of truth they sought, Or comfort to the mourner brought, These hands a richer meed shall claim Than all that wait on wealth or fame. Avails it whether bare or shod These feet the path of duty trod ; If from the bowers of ease they fled To seek affliction's humble shed. If grandeur's guilty bribes they spurned, And home to virtur's cot returned, These feet with angels fee shall vie, And tread the palace of the sky. ('*') 5i) THE LONESOME GRAVE. I know a place in Time's drear vail That's found in valley, hill and dale, Where dearest friends their "Farewells wail It is the Lonesome Grave. A place where merchants stop to rest In all the towns from East to West, When stock and trade are at their best — It is the Lonesome Grave. A place where honor ventures not And earthly fame is all forgot, And vain distinction have no lot — It is the Lonesome Grave. A place where strive doth ever cease And Envy never more increase. But all resides in perfect peace — It is the Lonesome Grave. A place where wantons all are still ; And music ne'er the dancer thrill, And all the friv'lous death doth chill — It is the Lonesome Grave. 60 A place where strife doth ever cease And fair complexions fade away, And culture's phantom has no sway — It is, the Lonesome Grave. A place of shelter from the wind, From grief and pain the fruits of sin. A'Vhere widows' troubles find an end — It is the Lonesome Grave. A place where willows mournful wave. And flowxrs bloom o'er heroes brave ; Where on one ''plain" sleep, lord and slave- It is the Lonesome Grave. A spot that's dear to one and all And oft the tear of grief doth call. When retrospecting loved-one's fall— It is the Lonesome Grave. ci "NO ROOM IN THE INN." No room in the inn for the Holy Child Who descended to earth so meek and mild ; But out in the manger with bleating sheep The Lord of glory in swaddling doth sleep. No room in the inn for the ''Man of grief" Who suffered all things to bring us relief ; That every creature, both great and small, Might be unshackled from Apolyon's thrall. No room in the inn for the Lamb of God Who came to earth only, to shed His blood On Calvary's cruel and rugged cross, That sinful rebels night never be lost. No room in the inn for Prince of life" Who came from the Father to quell the strife ; To take from the grave yard, the victory And set all its slumbering pris'ners free. No room in the inn for the "Balm" of old Whose touch makes the sick and suffering whole ; His blood floweth out in an endless stream Calling all nations to *%ash and be clean." No room in the inn for the sacred ''Groom" Who's fairer than all the lilies in bloom; He's sweeter than Sharon's beautiful rose, And scatters sunshine wherever He goes. 62 No room in the inn for the "King of Kings" ; The Lord of glory where purity reigned; Whose home was garnished with jasper and gold, And fadeless flowers that never grow old. No room in the inn of our hearts and love ; No room for the sacred Heavenly Dove. No room in our lives for the Saviour's praise, But constant rejection in all our ways. THE MISSIONARY'S PLEA. Why stand ye idle here so long, When harvest time is almost gone, And dying millions wait for thee, In heathen darkness o'er the sea. How can you live in worldly ease, And spend your all for ''self" to please, When ev'ry moment brings a plea From starving millions o'er the sea. O, can you claim to love the Lord, And daily keep His holy word, ' When you refuse to heed the plea Of Christless millions o'er the sea. How can you pray "Thy Kingdom Come," And fold your hands in ease at home? Haste then the coming of the Lord, And tell the heathen of His word. 63 ODE TO THE BIBLE. Hail, thou immortal book of God ! The lamp of truth and love; Revealing ev'ry sacred code Required to live above. Thou, like the Western rocky peak, Hast stood the rage of Time; Refuting errors, far oblique. And furth'ring truth sublime. Thy face is like the lucent sun Illuming earth entire; Transfusing light to ev'ry one And scatt'ring holy fire. Beneath thy ever-beaming ray The germ of falsehood dies ; And to drear climes where heathen stay. Thy thrilling nurture flies. No human hand, with sword or flame, Can stanch thy onward course ; Nor Satan, with his skill or fame, Retard by fraud or force. But on and on, with conq'ring tread, O'er hell and ev'ry foe, Thou goest forth, with "Living Bread" And balm for ev'rv woe. f56 %^ .--■'•«-_■•"■ .f v-.-^'. -> ""' V* k O > > ♦.To' .# o ..,,.' .0 V '..0' ^ 4"' VV€RT SOOKBINOING •-UU''*'^* J^ ^^. o