VWTH OTHER eli6iouSl*-»Devotional "Poems ^ ** ^:.|^. trs :^ SSIi. i' :a H£H0£RS0N Sms ,* .U, J? s * %^ :^lli3 /^& u-:,Ji LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. ! ©|ap Snjt^rig]^ ^n DNITED STATES OF AMERICA. .vTT-T, ^^sl^i'Sj ,' *-K •(» . .'. J", . ■•-'■ i-. .'l'•"!*7lJ■ ,.-i ■?■.;' -"Jf ' " >-v -' ^'^J'i*; *rt^;' C. 4 1R^ X ^^^~'^^S UP TO THE LIGHT, WITH OTHER RELIGIOUS AND DEVOTIONAL POEMS. y SARA HENDERSON SMITH. ii NEW YORK: ANSON D. F. RANDOLPH & COMPANY, 900 BROADWAY, COR. 20th STREET. COPYRIGHT, 1884, BY ANSON D. F. RANDOLPH & COMPANY. Edward O. Jenkins' Sons, Printers and Stereoiypers, 20 North William St.. New Yo'rk. PREFACE Sara Henderson Smith, the author of the Poems embraced in the accompanying selection, was the daughter of Dr. Thomas Henderson, late of the U. S. Army, and the wife of General Francis H. Smith, of the Virginia Military Institute. Her mother was a daughter of the late Commodore Thomas Truxtun, U, S. Navy. In a private memorandum found among her papers, there is the following record : OLD AGE IN DEATH. BY E. WALLER. The seas are quiet, when the winds give o'er, So calm are we when passions are no more. For then we know how vain it was to boast, Of fleeting things, too certain to be lost. Clouds of affection from our younger eyes Conceal that emptiness which age descries. The soul's dark cottage, shattered and decayed, Lets in new light, through chinks that time has made. Stronger by weakness, wiser, men become, (3) PREFACE, As they draw near to their eternal home ; Leaving the old, both worlds, at once, they view, That stand upon the threshold of the new. "The first two lines of the second stanza were among the last words distinctly ut- tered by my grandmother, Sara, widow of Alexander Henderson, of Dumfries, Prince William County, Virginia. " My grandmother was remarkable for in- tellectual gifts, which throughout her life she continued to cultivate by extensive reading, and every means afforded in her day. To a poetical temperament, she add- ed a love of music, and a voice of great power and sweetness. Her four daughters were carefully instructed in music — all of them good musicians ; two were very dis- tinguished ; my father, the only one of her sons who inherited this gift. I have heard him say when other opportunity was not afforded, his mother tuned her own piano. A married life, more than ordinarily blessed, and continuing nearly half a century, was followed by one year of widowhood." The " intellectual gifts," as well as the name of her grandmother, were the rich PREFACE. heritage of Sara Henderson Smith, and it is believed the accompanying selection from her Devotional Poems will fully illus- trate and confirm the gift of Poesy. This little volume will be followed by an- other, containing some of her brightest mis- cellaneous pieces, many of which were writ- ten in her earlier years. Like her grandmother, " her married life was more than ordinarily blessed, and con- tinuing nearly half a century," closed at the Virginia Military Institute, Lexington, Va., May 1 8, 1884. VIRGINIA MILITARY INSTITUTE, June 9, 1884. CONTENTS. Up to the Light, .... Say the Sweet Words again, I AM Wandering— I am Wandering, Admonition, You have Girded on your Armor, We love Him, because He first loved He is Calling many round me, My Son, give Me thy Heart, Song of the Deep Sea, . Prayer, .... Second Sunday in Advent, The Unsealed Fountain, First Sunday in Advent, Fourth Sunday in Advent, What is Life? . The River of Life, Gideon's Fleece, us. PAGE 13 14 16 18 20 22 24 26 26 28 29 31 33 35 36 39 41 (7) 8 CONTENTS. How Far is it to Canaan? . I AM NOT Willing yet to Die, Evening Meditations, The Changeless Monitor, Our Faiher in Heaven, Hallowed be Thy Name, " And when He thought thereon, Bartimeus, .... "Likewise Joy shall be in Heaven, Retrospection, . Galilee, .... Annie, A Christmas-Day Letter, The Angel Visitant, "In Thy Presence," A Fragment, .... Third Sunday in Advent, ''The Fashion of this World Away," .... "Come unto Me, all ye," The Voice of the Grave, The Missionary's Death-Bed, He wept, Passeth PAGE 42 44 46 48 51 53 55 57 59 60 62 65 66 68 70 72 73 75 77 78 80 CONTENTS. 9 PAGE The Soul's Bazaar, 83 What Thoughts are thine, Fair Boy, . 87 The Second Temple, 89 The Spirit's Home, 92 "Jesus Wept," 94 In Memory of Cadet John Quarles, . . 96 "And after the Fire, a Still, Small Voice," 98 Jacob's Dream, 100 The World was yet Young loi Little Henry, 103 Hollywood 105 A Letter, . , , , • . • .107 BE this my token when I am gone ! The child, to remember a pleasant word ; The servant, a burden laid lightly on ; The desolate waif, a feeling stirred Kindlier far than when she came For the trifle offered in His dear Name. Be this my token when I am gone ! The hand that could give, but not withhold ; Prouder than record on sculptured stone. Richer than treasures of burnished gold ; The tongue that could bless, but never defame. Patient, enduring, for His dear Name. Rough though the pathway our footsteps tread, Hedged with thorns lest we turn aside — He, the Sinless, oft laid His head On the cold mountains at eventide. The brow that had worn a kingly crown. With the night-dews heavy — with grief bowed down. Be this my token when I am gone ! Dimly reflecting His heart of love, Tears dried from eyes that had still wept on, Dimming with shadows the light above. And love, and service, and life complete, May the servant rest at the dear Lord's feet. S. H. s. (II) IIP TO THE LIGHT, AND OTHER POEMS. UP TO THE LIGHT. << T T P to the light," said the blade of grass, ^ " The clods are heavy, and I must pass Patiently— gropingly on my way. Till I pierce the darkness and find the day. What though an atom in time and space — Even an atom may claim its place ; And, toiling upward, I fulfil All that I know of my Master's will." " Up to the light," said the tiny bird. As dawn the depths of the forest stirred. And a joyful song rang out afar Clear and bright as the morning star. " What though an atom in time and space — Even an atom may claim its place ; And singing heavenward, I fulfil All that I know of my Master's will." " Up to the light," said the struggling soul, " The twilight deepens — the shadows roll Fitfully, fearfully, over my head. And the spirit within me is cold and dead. (13) 14 SAV THE SWEET WORDS AGAIN, Every atom in time and space Claims for itself its destined place — While I, a cumberer, through my days Faint in labor, and fail in praise. " 'Up to the light,' their way must lie — They are willing workers — but what am I ? Wasting the wealth of priceless hours On fleeting triumphs and fading flowers ; No more a dreamer in time and space, Lord, of Thy goodness, appoint my place. That loving, and serving I may fulfil All that I know of my Master's will." 'Up to the light,' through doubts and fears — Up through the mists of many tears — Up the steep ascent whose summits rise Till lost in the blue of the upper skies ; There, in the realms of Eternal day. Sorrow and sighing shall flee away. Rough or lonely the path may be. Upward, still upward, it leads to Thee." SAY THE SWEET WORDS AGAIN. "Wherefore He is able also to save them to the uttermost thai come unto God by Him."— Heb. vii, 25. O AY the sweet words again — *^ Are they for me } SAY THE SWEET WORDS AGAIN. 15 ' Save to the uttermost," Lord, can it be ! I, once the chief of all, Slighting Thy mercy's call. Fast bound in Satan's thrall, Can I be free ? Sin, with its iron chain Fetters me still ; Evil I would not do. Conquers my will. Oh ! for the liberty Wherewith Christ makes us free ; Lord, most complete in me. Thy work fulfil. As some poor castaway, Nearing the shore. Grasping a friendly hand. Fears death no more ; So while the waves run high. Strong in Thy strength — may I On Thy great love rely. All doubting o'er. Thou hast said, " It is I, Be not afraid. My perfect work is done. Thy ransom paid." 16 / AM WAhWERING, I AM WANDERING. Only for Him who died, Jesus, the Crucified, Be all my sin and pride At His feet laid. Loud Hallelujahs ring Through the high heaven ; Peace, with the starlit morn Is to earth given. Now, then, my soul, be strong Take up the Angel's Song — And while it floats along, Be thy bonds riven. Christinas Eve. I AM WANDERING, I AM WANDERING. "Jesus said, If thou knewest the gift of God, thou wouldest have asked of Him, and He would have given thee living water." " Whosoever drinketh of this water (of earth) shall thirst agani." " But whosoever drinketh of the water that I shall give him, shall never thirst." — John iv. lo, 13. *' T AM wandering, I am wandering, ^ In this weary world alone ; I have proved all earthly pleasures, — I am satisfied in none. " Half real — half unreal — ' A higher life than this. / AM WANDERING, I AM WANDERING. 17 Floats before my mental vision — Can you tell me what it is ? " For this my soul is longing, Yet I may not bid it stay ; Ere I grasp the bright illusion, It has fluttered far away ! " • It is written " — read the record— The characters are plain ; ' They who drink from earthly fountains, Shall surely thirst again." ' But the cup that I will give thee. So free to all — so pure, — I have filled with living waters, — He who drinks, shall thirst no more." " My Saviour, hast Thou offered Eternal life to me ? Bought by Thy precious bloodshed- Thy bitter agony ! " Come, then, and take possession Of all that is Thy own ; For the immortal spirit Finds rest in Thee alone." 2 18 ADMONITION. ADMONITION. ' What I say unto you, I say unto all, Watch." — Mark xiii. 37. ONE, from 5'our ranks, has fallen away, Worthily wearing your garb of grey ; One vacant seat at your mess-hall board — One well-known name from your class roll scored — One youthful form, in the spring-time's birth, Sadly borne to its native earth. Summer dies with its laughing bloom — Life, in the glad new year shall come. Dancing waters lie still in death — Life springs up with the south wind's breath, But the body and spirit of man, in twain, Never on earth shall be one again. Gone from our sight, to that far-off bourne, Whence the steps of the traveller never return, No sound comes back to the waiting ear ; — Nought for our lost but the pall — the bier — And words falling heavily — fall, they must — Ashes to ashes " — " dust to dust." Can all of our being be bound within This narrow circle of death and sin? Can the soul the Glorified came to save, Die with the treasure we give the grave ? ADMONITION. 19 Better by far that earthly love Never its sheltering tendrils wove. Look up — look up— through the darkened night, Thanks be to God, He giveth light. Look up — look up — to Him who saith Fear not — / have the keys of death ! " At the shadowy portal angels wait — Look to the Life beyond the gate. Jesus, at your conscience knocking, Whispers, " Frail as he, thou art." Satan still, without, is blocking Every pathway to your heart. Shall your Lord neglected wait. Till you pass the shadowy gate ! While that heart's warm tears are gushing Heed, oh ! heed the warning sound ; Lest your footsteps still be rushing On uncertain, slippery ground. Till you reach the shadowy gate ; — Lest ior you, no angels wait. He the Life — the Resurrection — He who holds your fleeting breath, Only asks the soul's affection, — Pleads to rescue you from death. 20 you HAVE GIRDED ON YOUR ARMOR. Will you linger — will you wait — Till you reach the shadowy gate ? ' They that seek " Him " early " — " find Him. Freshest from the new-born day, Flowers of hope and promise bind Him. Bearing still His Cross alwaj'", Till you leave it at the gate, Where with crowns the angels wait. YOU HAVE GIRDED ON YOUR ARMOR. " Thou therefore be strong." " Endure hardness as a good sol- dier of Jesus Christ."— 2 Tim. ii. 1-3. YOU have girded on your armor, You have rallied side by side ; Naught upon your stainless banner, Save a cross, all crimson-dyed ; Nothing, save the blessed token Of a bleeding Saviour's love; Once on earth a Man of Sorrows — Now a Prince enthroned above. May your way be onward, upward. Though your feet oft travel-worn ; May the wounded, fainting spirit. Never whisper of return : YOU HAVE GIRDED ON YOUR ARMOR. 21 Though the soul-betraying tempter Bid the Christian warfare cease, May you onward press and upward — So He gives His people peace. There are well-springs in the desert, Where the lone and weary rest — There's a Friend whose arm is stronger Than the foe within your breast : Ever near your glorious Leader You cannot suffer loss ; For earth has no such triumphs, As the triumphs of the Cross. In the flush of early manhood Some may lay their armor down ; Some, in the sultry noontide, May win the victor's crown : Some, toiling on till evening. Find rest at close of day ; — But from every brow the burden Of the strife is wiped away. Beyond the purple rim of morning, Bathed in floods of living light. Gleams "Jerusalem the Golden " With its towers and banners bright : Then onward still, and upward, In the path that Jesus trod, JVB LOVE him:' etc. Who bore our sins to lead us To the City of our God. V. M. Institute, May i6ih, 1869. Confirmation by Bishop Whittle. Forty-eight cadets confirmed and admitted to membership with the Church of Christ on earth, " Thanks be unto God for His unspeakable gift." '' IVE LOVE HIM BECAUSE HE FIRST LO VED US:'~^ John iv. 19. T HEARD a voice — the gentlest tone -'- That ever fell on mortal ear ; It might have touched a heart of stone, Alas ! a harder heart was here. It said that " pleasure, fame and power In youthful dreams were fair to see "; But they are phantoms of an hour — I am eternal. Follow Me ! " In vain He plead. I see Him now So patient with my rash disdain ; Turning with careless lip and brow From Him, my Lord, oft and again. In Satan's iron fetters bound. What could disturb my fancied peace ? The world is fair," I said, "when found No more to charm, Thy words may please." " JVB LOVE him;' etc. He spoke of wealth. The proud, rich man Who laid him down self-satisfied, Then started — thus the summons ran : "Thou fool — this night!" and heard, and died ! Of one who sat upon a throne, And while the people worshipped, fell, Eaten of worms and stricken down. Forever with the lost to dwell. In vain He plead ! He told of him For whom all pleasure's gifts came free ; Whose cup was sparkling to the brim, Who drank and called it " Vanity ! " In vain ! my heart more stubborn grew. Rebellion struggled fierce within ; From pride of intellect I drew Food for my folly and my sin. Once more He came. Asked would I learn Of all His love had borne for me ; Spoke of His wounds, His crown of thorns, His soul's dark hour of agony. That look of love, — at last it swept The barriers of my sin away ; And when I thought thereon, I wept. And at His feet repentant lay. That look of love, for sinners sealed In anguish on the blood-stained Cross, 24 HE IS CALLING MANY ROUND ME. My guilt and helplessness revealed ; And now I count all gain but loss For the dear honor of His name. Lord, let it still abide with me, Lest I forget in wealth or fame. The ransom paid on Calvary. HE IS CALLING MANY ROUND ME. " Hear what comfortable words our Saviour Christ saith unto all who truly turn to Him : ' Come unto me, all j^e that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.' " — St. Matt, xi, 28. HE is calling many round me, And they say His voice is sweet, That they can not choose but follow, And worship at His feet : That the hardest heart is melted By love so great, so free, But to me He has not spoken, — No message comes to vie. It is a day of mercy, Will He not hear my cry } He came to ransom sinners. And will He pass me by .'' No other hand can save me, Can take away my sin ; HE IS CALLING MANY ROUND ME. 25 'Tis Thine, oh ! precious Saviour, Tis Thine, to wash me clean. What if the world be given. What were an earthly crown. If my soul from life eternal To death and hell go down ? No, it is all, or nothing ! Then let my portion be, No lingering and no doubting. My Saviour, near to Thee. Oh ! Love divine, exceeding ! Thy voice is in my heart ; ' Fear not, for I am with thee. Thine is the better part." No more can earthly pleasures My senses steal away ; They fade as fades the darkness Before the light of day. On earth the Cross is hallowed,— In Heaven the crown is won. When the pearly gates are opened, And salvation's work is done. Here, still my footsteps guiding. Thy love shall be my stay ; There I farewell, night and shadow. Welcome, eternal day ! SO.VG OF THE DEEP SEA. MY SO.V, GIVE ME 7HY HEART. < f~^ IVE me th)^ heart," while youth is wreath- V-J ing Garlands of flowers to twine thy brow — " Give me thy heart," while joy is breathing A spell of promise around thee now. " Giv^e me thy heart " — while every feeling Thrills to the spirit's rapturous play — " Give me thy heart," ere age is stealing Its first, best energies away. I ask no crown of jewelled splendor, No glittering treasure from the mine ; I only ask the heart's surrender. Come, lay it at thy Father's shrine. SONG OF THE DEEP SE.-1. OFT alone, not lonely, Must the spirit be; Where the ear can hear them, Where the eye can see. Move the surface waters. Fretting, surging on, SONG OP THE DEEP SEA. While unbroken stillness Marks the depths unknown, So the soul's rude turmoil Is for fellow-man ; But its hidden workings He may never scan. Friends pause at the portal Veiled with anxious care ; One, our Elder Brother, Only enters there ; Sees our sore temptation, — Hears our pleading call, — Pities, ere we speak them. For He knows them all. Be the inner temple Then divinely pure ; Only hallowed footsteps Tread the sacred floor. There we guard our treasures, — Tender words of love, Free from earth's defilings As the stars above. There we weep our sorrows. While the lip smiles on. Glad that to the Master Is the servant known ; 28 PRAYER. Patient for the token Swept along the sea, Fear thou not the trial, I have sent it thee." Earth must have its guerdon- Days must come and go. Like the upper waters In their ceaseless flow. But the deep sea quiet Bears within its breast Germs of higher teaching, Types of perfect rest ; Ever as the sea-shell Murmurs of the sea, Bearing still a message, " Peace He giveth thee." P R A YE R . FATHER ! I would this wayward heart Might on Thy promised love repose- I would Thy Spirit might impart To mine, some balm for human woes. The world which I have worshipped long Has failed me in the hour of grief — THE SECOND SUNDA Y IN AD VENT. 29 Its fascinations, once so strong, Can never more afford relief. Thou who hast said Thou ne'er will turn Heedlessly away from misery, Thou ! who hast promised ne'er to spurn The contrite heart that clings to Thee, Oh ! send me not unblest away — A suppliant at Thy throne I bow. On Thee I fix the only ray Of hope that lingers round me now. Give me a portion of Thy grace — Thy Love's rich treasure on me pour ; Show me the brightness of Thy face, And let me love the world no more. THE SECOND SUNDAY IN ADVENT, '' That we through patience and comfort of the Scriptures might have hope." — Rom. xv. 4. ^T TE need to wait m patience — ' * One who is gone before, Had a weary life upon this earth. But all his sorrows o'er, In glory and in majesty. He reigneth evermore. 30 THE SECOND SUNDA Y IN AD VENT. We need to wait in patience — Affection's broken chain, Our restless hearts with quenchless love, Would strive to link in vain ; The lost one to the yearning breast, Returneth not again. We need to wait in patience — From all defilement free — To holy thoughts with purpose strong, As a sure refuge flee, For as our Master knew no guile, Pure should His servants be. We need to wait in patience — Our treasures are not here — The Christian traveller murmurs not, Although the way be drear ; His guide-book points no resting-place, Unless his Lord be near. We need to wait in patience — Our Father wills it so ; Nor idly wait — but day by day, With help and comfort go, To wayworn, fellow-pilgrims In a world of toil and woe. And we may wait in comfort — For still on angel wing, THE UNSEALED FOUNTAIN. 31 Our shield from soul-destroying ease— Our help in suffering — His messengers from every foe Shall swift deliverance bring. In comfort and in hope, His patient children wait ; Oh ! with what tenderness He looks Upon their low estate ; And gently leads their wandering feet To the Celestial Gate. THE UNSEALED FOUNTAIN. " In that day there shall be a fountain opened for sin and for uncleanness." — Zech. xiii. i. '< TJ O every one that thirsteth" -'- -■■ Here living waters flow. Come to the crystal fountain — Come with your sin and woe — No price — no ransom bringing— Ye heavy-laden come — For Christ the Lord is waiting — He calls His ransomed home. O'er many a snow-capped mountain, On many a waving plain — THE UNSEALED FOUNTAIN. A voice of love is telling Of One for sinners slain. The red man on his war-path No more shall blindly roam ; For Christ the Lord is waiting — He calls His ransomed home. From Afric's burning deserts Her dusky sons we meet ; Brought out for toil and travail — Led on with captive feet ; They hear the Gospel message Across the wild waves foam ; For Christ the Lord is waiting — He calls His ransomed home. Our fathers, sons, and brothers. The subtle tempter's pre)^ Here quench the restless fires That waste your souls away. Your sins, though red like crimson, Shall white as snow become ; For Christ the Lord is waiting — He calls His ransomed home. Look on the Cross uplifted ! Who would this Love repay ; Go, seek the lost— the erring — Once you were blind as they ; THE FIRST SUNDA Y IN AD VENT. 33 Go, tell the " old, old story" Till countless throngs shall come ; — For Christ the Lord is waiting — He calls His ransomed home. THE FIRST SUNDAY IN ADVENT. The night is far spent ; the day is at hand." — RoM. xiii. IVT OW the rosy morn is breaking ^ ^ O'er the long benighted earth, Prophets' stars have held their waking, Till the glorious sun beamed forth ; Youth and maiden rise to meet Him, Hoary head and infant fair. With loud hallelujahs greet Him, Let hosannas fill the air. See ye Him in royal splendor, With a lordly, glittering train, Bidding kings their pomp surrender. Through His peerless, wide domain ? No ; He cometh meek and lowly. With Salvation's garments clad. Bow in reverence. He is holy. Praise with joy, He maketh glad. 34 THE FIRST SUNDA Y IN AD VENT. Man's proud heart is His dominion. There His sceptre holds its sway, Peace and Love, on angel pinion, Saviour-King, attend Thy way ; Guilt, with doubt and fear oppressing, He can break thy captive thrall, With unerring wisdom blessing, Princely gifts He offers all. Souls, redeemed from sin and sorrow, Gird the heavenly armor on, Victory waits the coming morrow. Conflict with the night is gone ; Slumber not, the foe is waking — Pause not. He is ever near — Onward, till the morn is breaking. Rest was never promised here. Once again thy Lord descending. On Mount Olivet shall stand, Ransomed hosts are round Him bending. O'er Him waits an angel band ; Then, throughout the wide creation. Let your shout of triumph ring — Morning breaks, with adoration, Victors ! greet your Saviour-King. THE FO UR TH SUNDA V IN AD VENT. 35 THE FOURTH SUNDAY IN ADVENT. "Rejoice in the Lord alway." "The Lord is at hand."— Phil. iv. TIT" HO that awaits a father dear, ^ ^ When he our distant path would cheer. But knows that for the honored guest, With every charm the home is drest, And feels how Hght the labors prove. That follow in the steps of love ! The room arranged with anxious care— The softened light that is not gloom— The well-known books— the favorite chair- Some tokens of our early home Long treasured— now brought out to speak Of ties that absence can not break. Our task complete— how oft reviewed— Still deem we some thing left undone ; And strive to catch in thoughtful mood, Some fancy of the cherished one ; Nor pause, till in his fond embrace. The heart has found its resting-place. Thou, more than father— more than friend- How should our spirits watch for Thee, Who, with transcending love, didst bend To guard our helpless infancy, 36 WHAT IS LIFE? Our erring, wayward youth — and still Our life doth shield from every ill. No more, indeed, an infant fair, We lay our treasures at Thy feet, — No more our blest abode to share, With joy Thy hallowed form we greet, No more we soothe Thy weariness. Nor worship where Thy footsteps press. And yet, oh ! Blessed One, Thoa art To every true Disciple near; Still may each faithful, trusting heart, Expectant wait till Thou appear ; And feel how light the labors prove. That follow in the path of Love. In Thee believing, we rejoice — For Thee we watch, we strive, w-e pray — Through the dim twilight hear Thy voice, As Life's dark shadows flee away ; Nor ever from our vigils cease. Until we rest with Thee in peace. I WHAT IS LIFE? SAW him in the morn of life, A noble, generous one — WHAT IS LIFE? 37 Floating his barque on pleasure's sea, As honor steered it on — The breath of hope had swelled the sails, And sunshine o'er it hung— Away it sped its dazzling course, While carelessly he sung— Oh ! life has naught but happiness— Whate'er the wise may say- Its freshness and its bloom from me Can never pass away. I saw him then at summer eve, He bent his head to hear The scarcely uttered words which fell Like music on his ear ; A lovely girl had murmured them. As on his arm she hung. And radiant was the lover's face As once again he sung — Oh ! life has naught, etc., etc. I saw them both again, and she Was trembling at his side. And solemn were the words by which He claimed her as his bride. A crowd of friends were gathered round, But to his ear there sprung 38 Ji'^A T IS LIFE ? A Strain his lips had often breathed When joyously he sung — Oh I life has naught, etc., etc. I saw his happy home — his wife Was o'er an infant bent, Who, to his matchless smile, a look Of answering beauty sent ; He gazed upon the scene, as if His earthly hopes were flung Upon these frail and gentle ones — And then once more he sung — Oh ! life has naught, etc., etc. I saw a mourner stand alone Beside a marble tomb ; One flower was taken in the bud, The other in its bloom — And to the cherished spot he brought A heart by sorrow wrung. But a watch was kept by angels there. And thus the spirits sung— Oh ! life has many a bitter cup — Whate'er the young may say — But the glory and the peace of Heaven Will never pass away. THE RIVER OF LIFE. 39 THE RIVER OF LIFE. 1 STOOD beside a noble stream, Whose crystal waters roll'd Far onward to the distant sea, In majesty untold ; No poisonous herb or deadly fruit Grew on that river's brink, But safely in the tall trees' shade The traveller paused to drink." I saw a man of passions fierce, Pass by in bitter mood — He bent him o'er the cooling wave, His anger was subdued ; And he who ne'er had bowed the knee, Now pardon sought of Heaven, And prayed for blessings on his foes, As he would be forgiven. And then an aged miser came. Dreaming of hoarded gold — Spurning the poor whose humble cry Their tale of sorrow told. He drank ; his rigid hand unclaspt. And all his wealth did seem Too poor an offering for that love Which gave a life for him. 40 THE RIVER OF LIFE. I looked again — a widowed form Bowed down with grief drew nigh ; The seal of woe was on her brow, And tears had dimm'd her eye. She took the cup, and hope and joy- Now filled her grateful heart. And "we will meet again," she said, "Where friends no more shall part." I could not turn my gaze away, And strange it were to tell The many wondrous miracles Wrought by that river's spell ! The young forsook the halls of mirth, And with a steadfast eye The herald of the Cross went forth To suffer and to die. At length I heard a voice — I turned — An angel form was near — I trembled, as in gentle tones He said, " Why gaze ye here? That river is the Stream of Life, On you its power may fall ; Go drink of its exhaustless wave And freely give to all." GIDEON'S FLEECE. 41 GIDEON'S FLEECE. AM I, thy meanest servant, Lord, To be my country's stay ? To scatter back the Gentile horde That rush upon their prey ? These things are far too wonderful For a weak heart like mine ; Oh ! strengthen now my wavering faith And bless me with a sign. I lay the fleece upon the floor. Wilt Thou be ever nigh ? Then let it, Lord, be wet with dew. And all the earth be dry. Once more forgive the daring thought. And grant my earnest prayer — For what were Israel's armies, Lord, And Israel's God not there ? Thou who didst guide our fathers through The pathless wilderness — Still, with their children be — and here Thy waiting servant bless. Again this night I spread the fleece, Wilt Thou be ever nigh ? Then let the earth be wet with dew, The fleece alone be dry. 42 HOW FAR IS IT TO CANAAN f Christian ! the lesson is thine own — And wouldst thou have a sign ? To know -when warring with thy foes. If Israel's God be thine ? When cloudless skies are o'er thy head, Nor warning may'st thou trace — Still in thy heart, with dew from Heaven, Nourish the plant of grace. And when affliction's storm shall lower. And life's rude seas run high — That heart borne high above the wave Shall still in faith be dry. HOW FAR IS IT TO CANAAN? T T OW far is it to Canaan ? -■- -■■ The way is lone and drear, Night's shadows darken o'er my path Oh ! that my home were near. Throughout life's weary journey My guilt has worn me down ; Shall I e'er reach the promised land Or wear the promised Crown ? Look up, thou fainting one, thy Lord This message sends to thee," I will blot out thy sins and thou " Strong in My strength shall be." HOW FAR IS IT TO CANAAN? 43 How far is it to Canaan ? I long to be at home, Even now the glories of that world Over my spirit come. I see the Heavenly City, Its music fills my ear. Impatient, Lord, I wait, until Thy messenger appear. " Go on, triumphant Christian, yet One warning word be given, Take care, lest too securely trod, The road is lost to Heaven." How far is it to Canaan ? My treasures all are there. Flowers of such loveliness had made An earthly house too fair. Mine eyes are dimm'd with weeping, I'm desolate and lone. Yet, Lord ! I bless Thy chastening hand, Thou didst but take Thine own. * Mourner, thy trials safely past, Now hear thy Saviour say, I will restore the lost again, Where tears are wiped away." How far is it to Canaan ? Surely my footsteps tread Upon the verge of that dark vale Before each pilgrim spread. 44 / AM NOT WILLI XG YET TO DIE. Whose hand thus leads me onward, With strength no more my own ? Father ! 'tis Thine, each pledge redeemed, I am not left alone. Now, soldier, lay thine armor down, Sweetly this life resign ; Thy Saviour bore death's sting away. And victory is thine." / AAI NOT WILLING YET TO DIE. " Thy people shall be made willing in the day of Thy power. Psalm ex. T AM not willing yet to die, — -*- The earth is green, the sky is fair. The waters murmur gently by. Music and light are everj^where ; The evening breeze, rich with the breath Of summer roses, fans my brow ; Withdraw thine icy hand, oh, Death ! Some other time — not now, not now. I am not willing yet to die, — Autumn has spread such glory round, Painted our valley gorgeously. And every hill with splendor crowned ; / AM NOT WILLING YET TO DIE. 45 Thrown o'er each cliff a crimson wreath, Reflected in the lake below — Withdraw thine icy hand, oh, Death ! Some other time — not now, not now. I am not willing yet to die, — Our fireside is a joyous one. And while the wintry storm sweeps by. More tender is each loving tone ; I cannot leave this glowing hearth. To lay me down mid frost and snow. Withdraw thine icy hand, oh. Death ! Some other time — not now, not now. I am not willing yet to die, — Oh ! look upon the laughing Spring, While her fair sponsor., Hope, stands by, And pledges life to every thing ; All nature weaves a fragrant wreath Of early flowers, to twine her brow — Withdraw thine icy hand, oh, Death ! Some other time — not now, not now. I am not willing yet to die, — Alas ! my time would never come. Each changing season adds a tie To bind me to my earthly home : Thou who didst die on Calvary, Oh ! make me willing by Thy power ; Trusting, but weak, I cling to Thee, Thine be the way, Thine be the hour. 46 EVENING M EDIT A TIONS. E VENING M EDIT A TIONS. " The joy with which a stranger intermeddleth not." T T was a cloudless night in June, ■*■ The stars to greet the fair young moon, Had all like courtiers come ; Earth's children to their rest had gone. And the night breeze went murmuring on. Rich with the wood's perfume. I was alone — but Nature there Opened her book, and pictures fair, To one who loved her gave ; — The mountains piled in masses high. Threw their bold outline to the sky — Their shadow o'er the wave. And nearer, gardens blooming round. And swelling hills with verdure crowned. Were spread before my view ; Though dimly seen — yet known so well — That day had lent the night a spell, To trace each line anew. And yet, long ere an hour passed by. The landscape faded from my eye. And the bright stars alone Filled my whole soul, entranced each thought- Till Fancy deepening as she wrought. Gave form to every one. E VENING MED I TA TIONS. 47 First to my spirit came the loved, Year after year from earth removed, And still by death endeared ; Those to whose early loveliness. E'en Memory could not add one grace, Who one blest home had shared. And friends were there, for whom life wove A wreath of beauty and of love, Then, ere the flowers could fade, On every leaf a seal was set. Gone, but not lost " — they blossom yet. Undying, undecayed. Apostles, martyrs, swelled the throng, And ransomed myriads swept along. In garments dazzling white ; Till the whole Heavens seemed to be Filled with a glorious Company Of angels robed in light. That hour, that scene, have passed away— Yet, blest illusion— stay, oh ! stay— O'er this dull heart of mine ; When Faith is dim, and Hope is weak. Then bid thy shining memories speak Of Heaven and things divine. 48 THE CHANGELESS MONITOR. THE CHANGELESS MONITOR. WHERE art thou going — whence art thou come ? Born with creation, hast thou a home ? The wind breathes a song in its rushing flight ; The sun writes a story in burning light ; But viewless and noiseless thy car moves on, And men call thee ' Time,' till thy course is run. Sapping the strongholds of life away ; Touching its grandeur with slow decay; Leading our joys to glad fruition ; Healing our sorrows with gentle mission ; Making our rapture and grief thy own ; Say, is this all, till thy course is run ? Borne by thee to a distant shore Where thou, and thy dial, are known no more. What is the message that we may trace In the mystic characters on its face, Every throb of our heart's beating Still to its fairy round repeating. Youth is the questioner; be thou true ; Little has age with thee to do. His tottering footsteps soon must wait Thy last farewell at eternity's gate." THE CHANGELESS MONITOR. 49 " Mine, has been from distant ages All the gathered lore of sages ; Mine, are countless hoards of treasure Filled up, heaped up — without measure ; Mine, the grasp of kingly power ; Mine, the victor's proudest hour. " Mine, the pride of beauty, leading Hearts (like captive princes, bleeding At a heathen triumph) knowing Naught of care for their undoing ; Artist work, and poet's rhymes. Wedding bells, and victory chimes. " All of earthly riches, glory. Learning, fame in song and story ; All are given to me, and I Write upon them, * Vanity.' Gleams at most of fitful light — Meteors o'er a troubled night. " Yet, momentous gifts bestowing. Life or death, my hand is sowing. Gifts of moments — gifts of hours — Vested with immortal powers — Ever bearing on from me. Records for eternity. " What if the whole world obtaining And thy soul is lost, the gaining ? 4 50 THE CHANGELESS MONITOR. What if registered ' esteeming Light the price of thy redeeming ' ? Open is thy record yet, Read, where I my seal have set. " Mark this well ; ' a deathless treasure Lost in giddy rounds of pleasure.' Here, ' The poisonous goblet tasted, Youth, and health, and reason wasted.' Here (the darkest path e'er trod), ' The fool hath said, there is no God.' " Here, ' The miser's grip grew tighter.' Here, 'The idler's mirth grew lighter.' Here, ' The undying soul, believing In a great "hereafter," living One with passion, toil, and strife. Crushing all of nobler life.' " Thou art answered. Pleasures tasted,— Business thrall, — and moments wasted ;— All the good that thou art doing — All the evil, thou pursuing — In the characters I trace, Soon shall meet thee, face to face. " Not like these be thy recording; Not like theirs, thy last awarding ; UR FA THER IN HE A VEN. 51 Circling years are pausing never- Soon we part, and part forever — Then may thy rich guerdon be, Joyful to remember me." OUR FATHER IiV HEAVEN. FROM green-clad earth, from sandy shore, Where ocean sleeps or tempests roar; Where the bright river lifts on high Its waves to greet the circling sky. Father of Light and Life to Thee, One chord through all immensity, Thrills with the tones of need and fear — Tones quick to reach a father's ear. Nor dies the infant's feeble wail In plaintive sighs along the gale ; Nor falls the penitential prayer Unheeded on the passing air ; The gasp of want — the bitter cry Born of a love that cannot die. Are not too poor for Thee to own Amid the splendors of Thy throne. Who that in childhood oft might speak With tearful eye and flushing cheek. OUR FATHER IN HEAVEN. Some tale of wrong, or doubt, or fear, Into the earthly parent's ear, (However else the world may prove Chary of sympathy and love) But knows his heart may safely rest Upon a loving father's breast. And when to Thee our spirits rise Laden with earth's anxieties ; When from our side the loved are torn. And faith is dim, and hope forlorn ; When heavy with the dews of night Our drooping wings scarce seek the light How sweet to soothe our griefs to rest Upon a loving Father's breast. Nor only thus : by error driven Too oft we wander far from Heaven ; Too often dazzled by the ray Of prosperous sunshine, miss the way ; Temptation's warfare fierce within Goading the soul to doubt and sin ; Repentant, then, still may we rest Upon a loving Father's breast. The birds exulting through the air. Ring out their praises for His care ; The lilies clothed in beauty yield Their fragrant incense from the field ; « ' HALL O WED BE THY NAME." 53 But we for whom He sent His Son To seek the lost, — to save His own, Alone are called our cares to rest Upon a loving Father's breast. His own — though weak in heart and faith — His own in life — His own in death. Though here by fires of suffering tried — Only as silver purified, Faint not — thy Father lives and reigns, And every tear that He ordains Is but a messenger of love To lead you to His rest above. Now, then, as children let us come — With Thee is peace, and rest, and home ; Resisting sin, unvexed by strife, Trusting, amid the toils of life ; Till Satan conquered, we lay down Our earthly cross to wear a crown, And all our sorrows find their rest, Father, upon Thy loving breast. ''HALLOWED BE THY NAME." GLORIOUS in strength and majesty, We hallow Thy great Name ; 54 ''HALLOWED BE THY NAME:' The starlit Heavens — the teeming earth, Its wondrous power proclaim. Imprinted on the mountain crest, The torrent's ceaseless flow ; Nor less on every fluttering leaf And wayside flower below. The child scarce passed from infancy Sees in his father's hand A power that he would vainly wield, Would vainly understand ; Yet not for this unfailing trust And filial reverence meet; But for the tender care that guides His feeble, tottering feet. And He who leads the lightning flash Along its fiery path ; Who binds at will the stormy winds, The surging waters' wrath. Still makes our human griefs His own — Our wandering steps can stay ; And from the splendors of His throne Wipes all our tears away. Father ! what oft'ering can we bring That is not Thine to claim } Oh! for a seraph's raptured strains To magnify Thy Name. ^'AhW WHEN HE THOUGHT THEREON."* 55 Not where an angel veils his face May mortal vision soar ; Only with childlike trust and love We praise Thee evermore. And though our words be few and weak, Our hearts oft ill at ease, Now idly drifting with the wave- Now breasting stormy seas ; With Thee is rest— all else may change, But Thou art still the same ; And with Thy works we magnify And hallow Thy great Name. ''AND WHEN HE THOUGHT THEREON, HE WEPT:'-yi.AKKx\v.j2. << A ND when He thought thereon. He wept." -^ Alas ! alas ! too late the tears ! O memories of the past that kept Their sleepless watch through coming years ! He sees the fisher's garb he wore, His boat rocks idly on the sea ; Mending his net upon the shore He hears the summons, " Follow Me." 56 '■'AND WHEN HE THOUGHT THEREON r Can he forget the pitying love That healed the soul He came to bless, The heart all human woe could move To ministry of tenderness ? The cry— the bitter, anguished cry That rose above the stormy wave — The Master's whisper, " It is I," The Master's hand outstretched to save. And was it he, of all that band, Who would for his dear Lord have died, O coward heart ! O feeble hand ! O traitor tongue, his Lord denied. His Lord forsaken of His own, Led to betrayal with a kiss ; Buffeted, mocked, and spit upon, Was ever sorrow like to His ? One look He gave ! the flood-gates gone, Onward the surging billows swept ; Grief and remorse must claim their own, "And when He thought thereon, He wept. Oh ! heart of mine, how oft hast thou Pleading for self, thy Lord denied ; Canst thou forget the thorn-crowned brow, The wounded hands, the bleeding side, BARTIMEUS. 57 The shadows of Gethsemane, The agonizing watch He kept For thee, O faithless heart, for thee — And hast thou " thought thereon and wept " ? BARTIMEUS, Mark x. 46. << TJ E is coming ! He is coming! I hear along ^ ^ the street The sound of many voices — the tread of many- feet! Is it the man of Nazareth — the man I heard you say. That healed the sick, and raised the dead— and will He pass this way? " Why would ye bid me hold my peace — who else my life can save From darkness heavier than the night, more hopeless than the grave ; For you, the blessed sun may shine — for you, the earth is fair ; But earth and sunshine bring to me the black- ness of despair." 58 BARTIMEUS. From the dimmed cav^erns of the brain, a cry has come for light ; The struggle of a human soul, thirsting for human sight ; That cry is heard, the sufferer's hope — the suf- ferer's only plea — " Jesus, Thou Son of David, have mercy upon me !" His steps are stayed — upon the throng a stillness falls like death. The Son of Man, in Godlike power, has quelled the tumult's breath ; And words of pity pierce the air — " Arise, and go th)^ way." " Thy faith hath saved thee," morning breaks and night is lost in day. He turned and followed Jesus ! so love is bom of faith. No more a beggar asking alms, along the way- side path ; The glory of the earth is His — the sunshine and the flowers, And songs of love, and songs of joy — O, happy, happy hours ! Blind — blind, as Bartimeus, in prison bonds held down, "Raking up straws, while overhead, an angel bears a crown."* ♦ Bunyan's " Pilgrim's Progress,"— the man with the muck-rake. ^^ LIKEWISE JOY SHALL BE IN HEAVEN:' 59 A human soul from darkness is struggling to be free — "Jesus, Thou Son of David, have mercy upon me." ''LIKEWISE JOY SHALL BE IN HE A VEN: Luke xv. 3-10. " Q AY, shepherd, whither goest thou, >^ Scaling with eager feet The dark and treacherous mountain-path Mid storm, and snow, and sleet ? Thine eye would vainly seek to pierce The gathering gloom of night ; Thy flock is sheltered— rest thee here— Our cottage fires burn bright." " Delay me not — ninety and nine Are safe within the fold, Nor tell me that the way is lone, And pitiless the cold ; For one poor wanderer treads the verge Of yonder black abyss, And I must seek and save the lost From such a death as this." " Go, shepherd, on thy Heaven-taught quest Of pity and of love. 60 RETROSPECTION. Until the songs of men rejoice With angel songs above ; Until the erring, storm-wrecked soul Once more be homeward bound ; Until thy dead shall live again — Until thy lost be found." Who tends the Master's flock, full well The Master's Cross doth know, For he must scale the frowning rock, Must bridge the depths below ; Must homeward lead the wounded soul With tender, pitying love. So shall the songs of men rejoice With angel songs above. RE TROSPECTION. MANY years have passed away Since a well-remembered day When beneath a lilac bloom, Revelling in rich perfume. Following out a childish thought, I, the lowly blossoms sought, Myrtle — heartsease — violet — In the shadowy frame-work set. RETROSPECTION. 61 Still I seem a child again Fearing nought of grief or pain. Only on my quest intent — Only on my treasure bent — In a blissful fairy land, Reaching out a dimpl'd hand, When a rude and startling grasp. Strong of will and firm of clasp, While the tender flesh was torn, Pierced with many a cruel thorn — Snatched me from the leafy bower Half bereft of life and power, Strange the work that love had done — Strange the trophy love had won ! " Father, was the hand Thy own ? " Wept my heart with bitter moan ; Still His voice is in my ear — " Saw thou not the Serpent near ? " Through the mists of after years Reproduced from blinding tears, With a quick, keen sense of pain Came the picture back again. Father, is the hand Thy own ? " Pleads my heart with bitter moan. And the answer meets my ear — Saw thou not the Serpent near ? " 62 GALILEE. Children still, through careless hours Ever seeking fragrant flowers, Wandering with unwary feet. Where the bloom and shadow meet, Does a "Father's watchful eye Rescue thee from danger nigh, Pleads thy heart with bitter moan, Father, is the hand Thy own ? " Let the answer meet thy ear. Saw thou not the Serpent near ? " GALILEE, Matt. iv. 23. THE Storied hills of Galilee Are bright with blooming flowers, And waters on the restless sea Flash through the sunlit hours ; And Childhood's happy voice is there. And Youth in morning's prime. And Age that marks with hoary hair The dial-plate of Time. But Childhood flings its roses by, And Youth forgets its song, And feeble Age, with eager eye. Moves restlessly along ; GALILEE. 63 From hill and plain they throng — they press. And on the glittering sands Only a youth of lowly dress. But noble presence, stands. A King — He came unto His own. His own received Him not ! A King discrowned — without a throne — And toil His daily lot : And on the sea, and on the shore, His Presence stills the air, And words man never spake before Hold waiting thousands there. As shadows tell the waning day, Low kneeling at His feet. The sore distressed their burdens lay And all their woes repeat. O Love Divine that came to bear Our Cross of shame and pain. For even the outcast leper there Could never plead in vain. Lights stream from palace windows now. And odors faint and sweet. Where will He cool His fevered brow, Where rest His weary feet ? A royal Prince — no welcome said To Him from princely hall ; 64 GALILEE. He hath not where to lay His head, And He is Lord of all. Land of the olive and the vine, Where is thy grandeur now ? Thy children's sin and woe are thine. Their curse is on thy brow. And sons and daughters, exiled, toil Through scorn, and grief, and loss, While alien footprints mark the soil They shadowed with the Cross. O storied hills of Galilee, Long desolate and lone, The waters of thy restless sea For thee make ceaseless moan ; And Gentile hordes with ruthless hand Thy fairest gifts lay waste, And all the glory of thy land Sleeps in the buried past. Sleep is not death ! Thy King shall come In triumph from the skies ; Thy vine-clad slopes in beauty bloom, Thy palace splendors rise. Legions of angels round Him now His royal state maintain, And every knee to Him shall bow, Whose right it is to reign. ANNIE. g5 A N N I E. " And they sung as it were a new song."— Rev. xiv. 3. " These are they which follow the Lamb whithersoever he goeth. These were redeemed from among men, being the first fruits unto God and the Lamb." — Rev. xiv. 4. O AY, canst thou bear her a message } ^ Thy spirit is winging its flight To a land that she entered before thee, All radiant with glory and light ; And when at His feet whom thou lovest, Thy lips shall breathe forth a new song, With the angels adoring around thee, Her voice the glad note shall prolong. Say, canst thou bear her a message ? She was o\ix first-born — our beloved, — A few years she lingered among us. And then the fair child was removed ; So lovely, dost thou not remember The wave of her soft, golden hair ? So gentle, so pure, so unearthly — We know that our darling is there. Tell her that earth has no blessing Her loss in our hearts to supply, That the Grief-opened fount closes never ! That Sorrow's dark stream runs not dry ! 5 66 A CHRISTMAS-DAY LETTER. But the Cross that our Master has hallowed, Must still to His servants be dear, And the false world no more can allure us To dream that our treasures are here. Tell her, while memory wakens One thought of the past, she is ours — She comes v/ith all visions of beauty. She has left a new charm for the flowers ; The sunset, the starry night's splendor. The summer eve's murmuring close, And see thou forget not to tell her, We love for her sake " the white rose." Say, canst thou bear her a message ? Thy spirit is winging its flight — One word which the earth cannot sully, Go sound through the regions of light ; 'Tis the name of the Lord, our Redeemer, That name to her young heart so dear, And tell her, her Saviour is precious To those she left sorrowing here ! A CHRISTMAS-DAY LETTER. A H ! my heart is weary ! -^^ Let me charm its grief away Every pulse vibrating, To the Angels' song to-day. A CHRISTMAS-DAY LETTER. 67 Hark the pealing anthem, With Time alone to cease, — " Hail ! Thou Infant Saviour ! Hail ! Thou Prince of Peace ! Once, the household idol. Her gentle beauty blest, Amid the showering roses Of the spring-time, found her rest ; And yesterday, beside her. We laid a darling one ; Our two years' pet and plaything — A sunbeam, come and gone. Ah ! our hearts are weary ! Let us charm our grief away ; Their voices join the chorus Of the Angels' song, to-day ; And we, adoring, catch the anthem, With Time alone to cease, — " Hail ! Thou Infant Saviour ! Hail ! Thou Prince of Peace ! " Peace ! Alas ! around us Everywhere is strife ; Brother against brother. Hunting life for life. Gloom and desolation Brood o'er many a hearth, 68 THE ANGEL VISITANT. Ringing once with laughter — Wild with childish mirth. Yet amid the fires, Our Lord still finds His own, Looking for their deliverance, In every heart a throne ; And swelling still the anthem, With Time alone to cease, — " Hail ! Thou Infant Saviour ! Hail ! Thou Prince of Peace ! " In the Heavenly City, When from golden harp-strings rung, "As the voice of many waters," The glad "New Song" is sung, The redeemed shall wake an anthem, No more with Time to cease, — " Hail ! Thou risen Saviour ! Hail ! Thou Prince of Peace ! " December 25, 1864, THE ANGEL VISITANT. " Are they not all ministering spirits ? " 'THREAD softly! -*- The toil and strife of the day are done- Soft falls the glow of the setting sun. THE ANGEL VISITANT. 69. Fling wide the doors, where the joyous ring Of the heart's rich music is echoing. Wide — for an Angel guest is come. Unbidden, unmark'd to the happy home ; Flowers are blooming everywhere, Life's purest flowers are blooming there. Tread softly ! The hours pass on to another rest, 'Mid the parting glory that fills the west ; Heavy and dark are the mists that rise, Veiling its light from anxious eyes ; They see not the Angel with noiseless wing,- They knew not his gentle entering ; Shadows are falling everywhere, — Life's deepest shadow is falling there. Tread softly ! The hours pass on to another rest. And sunset flushes the glowing west ; Silently kneel, where the sufferer lies, With a heavenly light in her dreamy eyes. Kneel, for the Angel with noiseless wing To the rapt spirit is ministering ; " Passing away," is on all things fair, — Passing forever from earth, is there ! Tread softly ! The hours pass on to another rest. And twilight fades in the darkening west ; 70 "/^ THY PRESENCE. Strength, to the stricken, has come with death- Strength, that is born of unbroken faith, — And the Angel guest, with noiseless wing. O'er the wounded in spirit is hovering. Shadows are falling everywhere, — Light and shadow are falling there. Tread softly ! Hush'd and still is the dewy eve, Where the beloved to rest they leave. What though the desolate heart is worn. One, on the Cross, hath its burden borne ; And still to their sorrow, with healing wing, His angels are ever ministering ; Blessings are falling everywhere, — A blessing of peace is falling there. ''IN THY PRESENCE." I AM wandering here in darkness, I am weary of the night, Faith would vainly pierce the distance To my Father's home of light. Where one glad, glorious morning Ushers in Eternal Day, And earthly clouds and shadows Forever flee away. 'IN THY presence:' 71 " I am weary of the conflicts That my halting steps pursue, Of the foes so lately vanquished Ever springing up anew ; Of the cumbrous, glittering armor At eve laid down in pain. And, with the first awaking, To be girded on again. " I am weary of the weeping, Of bereavement's darkened life ; Of the want and desolation — Of the toil and pain and strife ; Of the hollow show and seeming Of a world by sin oppressed, I am weary — I am weary — And I long to be at rest ! " " Art thou weary of My service ? Is thy love so cold to Me ? In thy trials, thy temptations. Have I weary been of thee ? The path that thou must follow I have trod with bleeding feet, And if the toil be bitter, Will not the rest be sweet ? " " Lord, forgive my weak repining ! Fellow-travellers in the way 72 A FRAGMENT. Wounded by sin and sorrow, Nor Priest nor Levite stay ; Teach me to win them homeward, The lost — the blind — the lame, My feeble work accepted In Thy beloved Name. Onward ever at Thy bidding, Though the path be lone and drear. Only let me trace Thy footprints, Only feel that Thou art near ; Till o'er the waters gleaming Falls the light from yonder shore, ■ In Thy Presence there is fullness Of joy forevermore.' " A FRAGMENT. A GLORY floods Judea, As sunlight floods the sea : Shepherds, who watch your flocks by night. What may this glory be? While Eve her many voices hushed Drinks in with ravished ear The song by angels brought to earth^ That earth no more may hear. THE THIRD SUNDAY IN ADVENT. 73 That glory from past ages By prophet vision seen, Though dimly gleaming through the night, A star of hope had been — That song which kings had waited for In echoings sublime, Shall still the wondrous story tell Down to the verge of time. THE THIRD SUNDAY IN ADVENT. " It is required in stewards that a man be found faithful."— i Cor. iv. 2. OH ! life is but a pilgrimage, and every traveller bears, Whate'er his state — where'er his way— the bur- den of its cares ; For Pleasure's fountains ever gleam where Sor- row's shade is thrown, And he who fills the sparkling cup shall find them both his own. Deeply upon the poor man's brow the seal of care is set. And heavily it presses with the kingly coronet ; 74 THE THIRD SUNDA Y IN AD VENT. Then ye who feed the Saviour's flock, like Him each day go forth, And minister in mercy to the suffering ones of earth. Like Him, thou bearest messages of love to every heart — Like Him, the bread of life thou may'st freely to all impart ; And if thy work be hidden long, faint not, nor be dismayed. Thou canst not weep as He hath wept, nor pray as He hath prayed. Oh ! Holy office ! thus to watch for the undying soul — To whisper gentle words of peace where passion's billows roll, To break the spell of careless mirth — the droop- ing spirit cheer. When sad bereavement clouds the home, that else had been too dear. And did He not His tender lambs give to thy watchful care ? For precious in the Shepherd's sight the young and feeble are. We cannot know how brief a span of life to these is given. E'en now their infant feet may stand just at the gate of Heaven. " THE FASHION OF THIS WORLD:' 75 Then guard them well, for memory brings oft to the grateful breast The last hours of a little child thus early laid to rest; Her pastor's name was on her lips, and to his hand she gave A token of revering love that dies not in the grave. Oh ! be thou faithful to thy trust, a rich reward is thine — Forever and forever, as the glorious stars to shine — And the chief Shepherd in thy crown no brighter gems may weave. Than they who by thy teachings here like little children live. " THE FASHION OF THIS WORLD PASSETH A WA F." "D EAUTY, with her handmaids fair, ^ Hover'd o'er the infant earth. Showering fragrance through the air. Waking loveliness to birth. With her wand she tinged the flowers, Curtained Heaven's high arch with blue, 76 " THE FASHION OF THIS WORLD:' Pencilled clouds for evening hours, Gave the morn its rosy hue ; Robed in mist the lofty mountain, Softly veiled the dewy plain ; Decked with light the crystal fountain. Lost in forest depths again ; On the lake's calm bosom mirrored. Starry jewels of the night ; Through all nature still untired, Blending color, shade, and light. Now Creation's full harp swelling, To each note she lent its tone ; One task more, all else excelling. Ere her work of love is done ; Shadowy land and sparkling water. This last gift is not for thee, But to throw o'er Eden's daughter Perfect grace and symmetry. One there followed in her train. With an aspect coldly stern ; Beauty saw and wept in vain. Wheresoe'er her footsteps turn. Still that stranger form is near — "And who art thou } " she said, " And wherefore art thou here } " Not a word spoke the stranger. But in his grasp glittered COME UNTO ME, ALL YE." 77 A seal, and the motto was, " Passing away." And all that was lovely These sad words embittered ; And deeply he stamped Where the loveliest lay. Then Beauty, with sorrow And tenderness riven, Her fair maidens gathered. And homeward took flight ; Children of earth. Ye may meet her in Heaven ; At the fount of Perfection She feareth no blight. "COME [/AT TO MB, ALL K5"."— Matt. xi. 28. /^~^OME where the Sun of Righteousness is ^^-^ throwing A glow of radiance o'er life's clouded way ; Come where that Sun its guiding light bestowing Points on to brighter realms of endless day. Come, all that labor and are heavy laden, I will refresh you with my Spirit's power ; The promised bloom of life is ever fading. But I will lead where joys eternal flower. 78 THE VOICE OF THE GRA VE. A bruised reed, a broken, contrite spirit May rest its cares and sufferings safely here ; On earth, a Saviour's griefs though it inherit, In Heaven is wept away each bitter tear. Come Jtow — nor slight the gracious invitation Which says to every weary traveller. Come, Here is for all a balm of Consolation — And I will bid each wanderer welcome home. THE VOICE OF THE GRAVE, WHEN will ye wake again. Oh ! lovely slumberers in the silent tomb ? Can ye not burst the chain That holds ye fettered in Corruption's gloom ? Can ye not rise to life and light once more, And eyes now dimmed with grief to joy restore ? Spring flowers are wafting on The first soft perfume of the early year. And many a warbling tone By the small bird, is waked in forest drear ; Seejj/^ the woods with fragrant blossoms crowned ? Hear^