C
HYMNS
FAITH AND HOPE
BONAR
First Series

Gb 4808

16
Gb 4808

HYMNS
OF
FAITH AND HOPE.
FIRST SERIES.
BY
HORATIUS BONAR, D.D.
KELSO.
LONDON:
JAMES NISBET& CO., BERNERS STREET.
1864.

Gb 4808
EDINPURGH: PRINTED BY JOHN GREIG& SON.
Univ.- Bibl. Giessen

PREFACE.
Most of the following pieces have appeared already in different journals, or in other shapes and ways, during the last twelve years. They are now gathered together into one volume, in order that anything useful in them may be preserved and made more accessible. They are what they are here called, Hymns of Faith and Hope. They belong to no church or sect. They are not the expressions of one man's or one party's faith and hope: but are meant to speak what may be thought and spoken by all to whom the Church's ancient faith and hope are dear.
KELSO, December 19. 1856.

CONTENTS.
Divine Order,
Left Behind, The Meeting- Place, A Stranger Here, Ocean Teachings,
No More Sea,
The Change,
The Cloudless,
The Home- Sickness,
The Land of Light,
The Seen and the Unseen,
Advent,
Return unto thy Rest,
Dawn,
The Morning Star,.
Things Hoped For,
Through Death to Life,
Hora Novissima,
The Night Cometh,
The Day after Armageddon,
Rest Yonder,
How Long!
A Little While,
.
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vi
Not Very Far,
The Everlasting Memorial,
Our One Life,
The Consolation,
The Real,
Not Here,
Not Now,
CONTENTS.
Earth's Beauty,
Light's Teachings,
The Night and the Morning,
Hope of Day,
Day- Spring,
Dust to Dust,
Arise and Depart,
The Kingdom,
Newly Fallen Asleep,
The Flesh Resting in Hope,.
Rest,
A Pilgrim's Song,
Quis Separabit, Far Better,
Wandering Down ,.
The Rod,
Strength by the Way,
The Stranger Sea- Bird,
Hope Deferred,
The Blank,.
The Little Flock,
The Sleep of the Beloved,
The Name of Names,
Mine and Thine,
Abide in Him,
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CONTENTS.
The Beloved Son,
The Sinbearer,
The Substitute,
Lost but Found,
The Word made Flesh,
The Darkness and the Light,
The Voice from Galilee,
A Bethlehem Hymn,
This do in Remembrance of me,
The Feast,
God's Israel,
The Shadow of the Cross,.
Christ our Peace,
Child's Prayer,
Child's Morning Hymn,
To M. L. B.,
The Two Eras of the Land,
Martyr's Hymn,
The Rest- Day,
The Inner Calm,
The Disburdening ,.
Sursum Corda,
The Heavenly Sowing,
Companionship,
Disappointment,
The Time to Meet,.
Gone Before,
The Elder Brother,
Life from the Dead,
It is Finished,
Laus Deo,
Press on,
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viii
Ever Near,
Creation,
Desert Lilies,
The Friend ,.
Summer Gladness,
The Blank,
Choose Well,
The Useful Life,
' Twas I that did it,.
Passing Through,
Forward,
Nothing Between,
Follow Thou Me,
Vanity,
Old Words,
.
.
Machpelah,
The Old Jew on Mount Moriah,
The Shepherds' Plain,
Come, Lord ,.
Thy Way, Not Mine,
Alleluia,
Live ,.
The Martyr's Grave,
All Well,
●
CONTENTS.
Links,
The Prayer,
The Resurrection of the Just,
The City,
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HYMNS
OF
FAITH AND HOPE.
DIVINE ORDER
Tis first the true and then the beautiful, Not first the beautiful and then the true; First the wild moor, with rock and reed and pool,
Then the gay garden rich in scent and hue.
' Tis first the good and then the beautiful,
Not first the beautiful and then the good; First the rough seed, sown in the rougher soil, Then the flower- blossom, or the branching wood.
Not first the glad and then the sorrowful,
But first the sorrowful, and then the glad; Tears for a day; for earth of tears is full, Then we forget that we were ever sad.
A

2
LEFT BEHIND.
Not first the bright, and after that the dark,
But first the dark, and after that the bright; First the thick cloud, and then the rainbow's
are,
First the dark grave, then resurrection- light.
" Tis first the night,-stern night of storm and war ,Long night of heavy clouds and veiled skies; Then the far sparkle of the Morning- star,
That bids the saints awake and dawn arise.
LEFT BEHIND.
Look at this starbeam! From its place of birth, It has come down to greet us here below; Now it alights unwearied on this earth,
Nor storm nor night have quench'd its heavenly glow.
Unbent before the winter's rugged blast,
Unsoiled by this sad planet's tainted air, It sparkles out from yon unmeasured vast, Bright' mid the brightest,' mid the fairest fair.

LEFT BEHIND.
Undimm'd it reaches me; but yet alone: The thousand gay companions that took wing
Along with it have perish'd one by one,
Scatter'd o'er space like blossoms of the spring.
Some to yon nearer orbs have sped their
course,
Yon city's smoke has quench'd a thousand
more;
Myriads in yon dark cloud have spent their force;
A few stray gleams are all that reach our shore.
And so with us! How many, who began Life's race with us, are drooping by the way Losing themselves in darkness one by one, From the glad goal departing wide astray
When we shall reach the kingdom of the blest, How few who started with us shall we find Arriving or arrived, for glorious rest;
How many shall we mourn as left behind!*
*" Pauci læta arva tenemus."- Virgil, Eneid, VI.

THE MEETING- PLACE.
WHERE the faded flower shall freshen, Freshen never more to fade; Where the shaded sky shall brighten, Brighten never more to shade: Where the sun- blaze never scorches; Where the star- beams cease to chill; Where no tempest stirs the echoes Of the wood, or wave, or hill: Where the morn shall wake in gladness, And the noon the joy prolong, Where the day- light dies in fragrance, ' Mid the burst of holy song:
Brother, we shall meet and rest ' Mid the holy and the blest!
Where no shadow shall bewilder, Where life's vain parade is o'er, Where the sleep of sin is broken,
And the dreamer dreams no more: Where no bond is ever sundered;
Partings, claspings, sob and moan, Midnight waking, twilight weeping, Heavy noontide,-all are done: Where the child has found its mother, Where the mother finds the child, Where dear families are gathered, That were scattered on the wild: Brother, we shall meet and rest ' Mid the holy and the blest!

THE MEETING- PLACE.
5
where the hidden wound is healed,
Where the blighted life re- blooms, Where the smitten heart the freshness Of its buoyant youth resumes: Where the love that here we lavish On the withering leaves of time, Shall have fadeless flowers to fix on In an ever spring- bright clime: Where we find the joy of loving, As we never loved before, Loving on, unchilled, unhindered, Loving once and evermore:
Brother, we shall meet and rest ' Mid the holy and the blest!
Where a blasted world shall brighten Underneath a bluer sphere, And a softer, gentler sunshine
Shed its healing splendour here: Where earth's barren vales shall blossom Putting on their robe of green, And a purer, fairer Eden
Be where only wastes have been: Where a King in kingly glory,
Such as earth has never known, Shall assume the righteous sceptre, Claim and wear the holy crown:
Brother, we shall meet and rest ' Mid the holy and the blest.

6
A STRANGER HERE.
I MISS the dear paternal dwelling,
Which mem'ry still undimm'd recals, A thousand early stories telling,
I miss the venerable walls.
I miss the chamber of my childhood, I miss the shade of boyhood's tree ,The glen, the path, the cliff, the wild- wood, The music of the well- known sea.
I miss the ivied haunt of moonlight, I miss the forest and the stream,
I miss the fragrant grove of noonlight, I miss our mountain's sunset gleam.
I miss the green slope, where reposing I mused upon the near and far, Marked, one by one, each floweret closing, Watched, one by one, each opening star
I miss the well- remembered faces, The voices, forms of fresher days; Time ploughs not up these deep- drawn traces,
These lines no ages can erase.
I miss them all, for, unforgetting,
My Spirit o'er the past still strays, And, much its wasted years regretting, treads again these shaded ways,

A STRANGER HERE.
I mourn not that each early token Is now to me a faded flower, Nor that the magic snare is broken, That held me with its mystic power.
I murmur not that now a stranger, I pass along the smiling earth;
I know the snare, I dread the danger, I hate the haunts, I shun the mirth.
My hopes are passing upward, onward, And with my hopes my heart has gone; My eye is turning skyward, sunward,
Where glory brightens round yon throne.
My spirit seeks its dwelling yonder; And faith fore- dates the joyful day When these old skies shall cease to sunder The one dear, love- linked family. Well- pleased I find years rolling o'er me,
And hear each day time's measured tread Far fewer clouds now stretch before me, Behind me is the darkness spread.
And summer's suns are swiftly setting,
And life moves downward in their train, And autumn dews are fondly wetting The faded cheek of earth in vain. December moons are coldly waning,
And life with them is on the wane; Storm- laden skies with sad complaining, Bend blackly o'er the unsmiling main.

A STRANGER HERE.
My future from my past unlinking, Each dying year untwines the spell; The visible is swiftly sinking,
Uprises the invisible.
To light, unchanging, and eternal, From mists that sadden this bleak waste To scenes that smile for ever vernal,
From winter's blackening leaf I haste. Earth, what a sorrow lies before thee, None like it in the shadowy past: The sharpest throe that ever tore thee, Even though the briefest and the last!
I see the fair moon veil her lustre, I see the sackcloth of the sun; The shrouding of each starry cluster, The three- fold woe of earth begun.
I see the shadows of its sunset;
And wrapt in these the Avenger's form; I see the Armageddon- onset;
But I shall be above the storm.
There comes the moaning and the sighing There comes the hot tear's heavy fall, The thousand agonies of dying;
But I shall be beyond them all.

OCEAN TEACHINGS.
" This great and wide sea."- Ps. CIV. 25 THAT rising storm! It has awakened me;
My slumbering spirit starts to life anew; That blinding spray- drift, how it falls upon me As on the weary flower the freshening dew.
That rugged rock- fringe that girds in the ocean,
And calls the foam from its translucent blue, It seems to pour strange strength into my spirit ,Strength for endurance, strength for conflict too.
And these bright ocean- birds, these billowrangers,
The snowy- breasted,-each a winged wave ,They tell me how to joy in storm and dangers, When surges whiten, or when whirlwinds
rave.
And these green- stretching fields, these peaceful hollows,
That hear the tempest, but take no alarm, Has not their placid verdure sweetly taught me The peace within when all without is storm?
And thou keen sun- flash, through the cloudwreath bursting,
Silvering the sea, the sward, the rock, the foam,

10
What light within me has thy pure gleam kindled!
" Tis from the land of light that thou art
come.
NO MORE SEA.
And of that time how blythely art thou telling, When cloud and change and tempest shall take wing;
Each beam of thine prophetic of the glory, Creation's day- break, earth's long- promised spring.
Even thus it is, my God me daily teacheth Sweet knowledge out of all I hear and see; Each object has a heavenly voice within it, Each scene, however troubled, speaks to me. For all upon this earth is broken beauty;
Yet out of all what strange, deep lessons rise!
Each hour is giving out its heaven- sent wisdom, A message from the sea, the shore, the skies.
NO MORE SEA.
Καὶ ἡ θάλασσα ουκ ἔστιν ἐτι.-( Rev. xxi. 1.)
SUMMER Ocean, idly washing
This grey rock on which I lean; Summer Ocean, broadly flashing
With thy hues of gold and green:

NO MORE SEA.
Gently swelling, wildly dashing O'er yon island- studded scene; Summer Ocean, how I'll miss thee, Miss the thunder of thy roar, Miss the music of thy ripple,
Miss thy sorrow- soothing shore, Summer ocean, how I'll miss thee,
When the sea shall be no more." Summer Ocean, how I'll miss thee,
As along thy strand I range; Or as here I sit and watch thee In thy moods of endless change, Mirthful moods of morning gladness, Musing moods of sunset sadness; When the dying winds caress thee, And the sinking sunbeams kiss thee, And the crimson cloudlets press thee, And all nature seems to bless thee!Summer Ocean, how I'll miss thee,
Miss the wonders of thy shore, Miss the magic of thy grandeur, When" the sea shall be no more."
And yet sometimes in my musings, When I think of what shall be; In the day of earth's new glory, Still I seem to roam by thee. As if all had not departed,
But the glory lingered still; As if that which made thee lovely, Had remained unchangeable.
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NO MORE SEA,
Only that which marr'd thy beauty, Only that had passed away, Sullen wilds of Ocean- moorland, Bloated features of decay. Only that dark waste of waters,
Line ne'er fathom'd, eye ne'er scanned, Only that shall shrink and vanish,
Yielding back the imprison'd land. Yielding back earth's fertile hollows, Long- submerged and hidden plains; Giving up a thousand valleys,
Of the ancient world's domains. Leaving still bright azure ranges,
Winding round this rocky tower; Leaving still yon gem- bright island, Sparkling like an ocean flower. Leaving still some placid stretches, Where the sun- beams bathe at noon, Leaving still some lake- like reaches, Mirrors for the silver moon. Only all of gloom and horror, Idle wastes of endless brine, Haunts of darkness, storm and danger, These shall be no longer thine. Backward ebbing, wave and ripple,
Wondrous scenes shall then disclose; And, like earth's, the wastes of ocean Then shall blossom as the rose.

13
THE CHANGE.
I LOVE yon pale blue sky; it is the floor
Of that glad home where I shall shortly be A home from which I shall go out no more, From toil and grief and vanity set free.
I
gaze upon yon everlasting arch,
Up which the bright stars wander, as they
shine;
And, as I mark them in their nightly march, I think how soon that journey shall be mine!
Yon silver drift of silent cloud, far up
In the still heaven,-through you my pathway lies:
Yon rugged mountain- peak,-how soon your
top
Shall I behold beneath me, as I rise!
Not many more of life's slow- pacing hours, Shaded with sorrow's melancholy hue; Oh, what a glad ascending shall be ours, Oh, what a pathway up yon starry blue! A journey like Elijah's, swift and bright,
Caught gently upward to an early crown, In heaven's own chariot of all- blazing light,* With death untasted and the grave unknown
*
θείῳ πυρὶ παμφαὴ;.— Soph. Philoct.

*
14
THE CLOUDLESS.
No shadows yonder! All light and song; Each day I wonder, And say, How long Shall time me sunder
From that dear throng?
No weeping yonder! All fled away; While here I wander Each weary day; And sigh as I ponder My long, long stay. No partings yonder! Time and space never Again shall sunder; Hearts cannot sever; Dearer and fonder Hands clasp for ever.* None wanting yonder, Bought by the Lamb! All gathered under
The ever- green palm; Loud as night's thunder Ascends the glad psalm.
ἀδακρυν νέμονται ἀιῶνα … Pindar. Olym.

THE HOME SICKNESS.
" O civitas sancta, civitas speciosa, de longinquo te saluto, ad te clamo, te requiro."- Augustine, De Spir. et Anim.
15
AND whence this weariness,
This gathering cloud of gloom? Whence this dull weight of loneliness, These greedy cravings for the tomb? These greedier cravings for the hopes that lie
Beyond the tomb, beyond the things that die;
Beyond the smiles and joys that come
and go,
Fevering the spirit with their fitful flow; Beyond the circle where the shadows fall; Within the region where my God is all.
It is not that I fear
To breast the storm or wrestle with the
wave,
To swim the torrent or the blast to brave, To toil or suffer in this day of strife
As He may will who gave this struggling life;
But I am homesick!
It is not that the cross
Is heavier than this drooping frame can bear,
Or that I find no kindred heart to share

16
THE HOME SICKNESS.
The burden, which, in these last days of ill,
Seems to press heavier, sharper, sorer still; But I am homesick!
It is not that the snare
Is laid around for my unwary feet, And that a thousand wily tempters greet My slippery steps and lead me far astray From the safe guidance of the narrow way; But I am homesick!
It is not that the path
Is rough and perilous, beset with foes, From the first step down to its weary close, Strewn with the flint, the briar, and the thorn,
That
wound my limbs and leave my raiment torn;
But I am homesick!
It is not that the sky
Is darkly sad, and the unloving air Chills me to fainting; and the clouds that
there
Hang over me seem signal- clouds unfurled, Portending wrath to an unready world; But I am homesick!
It is not that this earth
Has grown less bright and fair; that these
grey hills,
These ever- lapsing, ever- lulling rills,

17
And these breeze- haunted woods, that ocean clear,
Have now become less beautiful, less dear, But I am homesick!
THE LAND OF LIGHT.
Let me then weary be!
I shrink not, murmur not; In all this homelessness I see
The Church's pilgrim- lot:
Her lot until her absent Lord shall come, And the long homeless here, shall find a
home.
Then no more weariness!
No gathering cloud of gloom; Then no dull weight of loneliness,
No greedy cravings for the tomb: For death shall then be swallowed up of life,
And the glad victory shall end the strife!
THE LAND OF LIGHT.
THAT clime is not like this dull clime of ours; All, all is brightness there;
A sweeter influence breathes around its flowers, And a far milder air.
No calm below is like that calm above, No region here is like that realm of love; Earth's softest spring ne'er shed so soft a light, Earth's brightest summer never shone so bright.
B

18
That sky is not like this sad sky of ours, Tinged with earth's change and care: No shadow dims it, and no rain- cloud lowers; No broken sunshine there!
THE LAND OF LIGHT.
One everlasting stretch of azure pours
Its stainless splendour o'er these sinless shores For there Jehovah shines with heavenly ray, There Jesus reigns dispensing endless day.
Those dwellers there are not like these of earth, No mortal stain they bear;
And yet they seem of kindred blood and birth ,Whence, and how came they there? Earth was their native soil; from sin and shamne, Through tribulation they to glory came; Bond- slaves delivered from sin's crushing load, Brands plucked from burning by the hand of God.
Those robes of theirs are not like these below; No angel's half so bright!
Whence came that beanty, whence that living glow?
Whence came that radiant white? Washed in the blood of the atoning Lamb, Fair as the light those robes of theirs became, And now, all tears wiped off from every eye, They wander where the freshest pastures lie, Through all the nightless day of that unfading sky!

19
THE SEEN AND THE UNSEEN
ON THE GREAT EXHIBITION, 1851.
HA! yon burst of crystal splendour, Sunlight, starlight blent in one; Starlight set in arctic azure,
Sunlight from the burning zone! Gold and silver, gems and marble, All creation's jewelry; Earth's uncovered waste of riches, Treasures of the ancient sea. Heir of glory,
What is that to thee and me?
Iris and Aurora braided,
How the woven colours shine! Snow- gleams from an Alpine summit, Torch- light from a spar- roofed mine. Like Arabia's matchless palace,
Child of magic's strong decree, One vast globe of living sapphire, Floor, walls, columns, canopy. Heir of glory,
What is that to thee and me?
Forms of beauty, shapes of wonder, Trophies of triumphant toil; Never Athens, Rome, Palmyra, Gazed on such a costly spoil.

THE SEEN AND THE UNSEEN.
Dazzling the bewildered vision, More than princely pomp we see: What the blaze of the Alhambra, Dome of emerald, to thee?
Heir of glory,
What is that to thee and me?
20
Farthest cities pour their riches, Farthest empires muster here, Art her jubilee proclaiming
To the nations far and near. From the crowd in wonder gazing,
Science claims the prostrate knee; This her temple, diamond- blazing, Shrine of her idolatry.
Heir of glory,
What is that to thee and me?
Listen to her tale of wonder,
Of her plastic, potent spell; " Tis a big and braggart story, Yet she tells it fair and well. She the gifted, gay magician, Mistress of earth, air, and sea This majestic apparition, Offspring of her sorcery Heir of glory,
What is that to thee and me?
What to that for which we're waiting, Is this glittering earthly toy? Heavenly glory, holy splendour, Sum of grandeur, sum of joy.

THE SEEN AND THE UNSEEN.
Not the gems that time can tarnish, Not the hues that dim and die, Not the glow that cheats the lover, Shaded with mortality.
Heir of glory,
That shall be for thee and me!
Not the light that leaves us darker;
Not the gleams that come and go; Not the mirth whose end is madness; Not the joy whose fruit is woe; Not the notes that die at sunset; Not the fashion of a day; But the everlasting beauty, And the endless melody. Heir of glory,
That shall be for thee and me!
City of the pearl- bright portal; City of the jasper wall; City of the golden pavement; Seat of endless festival. City of Jehovah, Salem,
City of eternity,
To thy bridal- hall of gladness, From this prison would I flee. Heir of glory,
That shall he for thee and me
21
Ah; with such strange spells around me, Fairest of what earth calls fair,
How I need thy fairer image, To undo the syren snare!

22
THE SEEN AND THE UNSEEN.
Lest the subtle serpent- tempter
Lure me with his radiant lie; As if sin were sin no longer, Life were no more vanity. Heir of glory,
What is that to thee and me?
Yes, I need thee, heavenly city, My low spirit to upbear;
Yes, I need thee; earth's enchantments So beguile me with their glare. Let me see thee, then these fetters Break asunder; I am free;
Then this pomp no longer chains me;
Faith has won the victory.
Heir of glory,
That shall be for thee and me!
Soon where earthly beauty blinds not, No excess of brilliance palls, Salem, city of the holy,
We shall be within thy walls! There beside yon crystal river,
There beneath life's wondrous tree, There with nought to cloud or sever, Ever with the Lamb to be;
Heir of glory,
That shall be for thee and me!

23
ADVENT.
THE Church has waited long, Her absent Lord to see; And still in loneliness she waits, A friendless stranger she.
Age after age has gone, Sun after sun has set, And still, in weeds of widowhood, She weeps a mourner yet.
Come, then, Lord Jesus, come!
Saint after saint on earth
Has lived, and loved, and died; And as they left us one by one, We laid them side by side; We laid them down to sleep, But not in hope forlorn, We laid them but to ripen there, Till the last glorious morn.
Come, then, Lord Jesus, come!
The serpent's brood increase,
The powers of hell grow bold, The conflict thickens, faith is low, And love is waxing cold. How long, O Lord our God,
Holy and true and good, Wilt thou not judge thy suffering Church, Her sighs and tears and blood? Come, then, Lord Jesus, come

24
RETURN UNTO THY REST,
We long to hear thy voice, To see thee face to face, To share thy crown and glory then, As now we share thy grace. Should not the loving bride
The absent bridegroom mourn? Should she not wear the weeds of grief Until her Lord return?
Come, then, Lord Jesus, come
The whole creation groans
And waits to hear that voice, That shall restore her comeliness, And make her wastes rejoice. Come, Lord, and wipe away
The curse, the sin, the stain, And make this blighted world of ours Thine own fair world again.
Come, then, Lord Jesus, come!
RETURN UNTO THY REST.
CEASE, my soul, thy strayings! Have they brought thee peace? Come, no more delayings,
Cease thy wanderings, cease.
These vanities how vain! Wander not again.

RETURN UNTO THY REST.
Thou hast found thy centre; There, my soul, abide; Never more adventure
Now to swerve aside.
These vanities how vain! Wander not again.
Thou hast reach'd thy dwelling; Safe, sure anchorage From the perilous swelling Of the tempest's rage.
These vanities how vain Wander not again.
Tranquil hours now greet thee, In thy calm abode; Gracious looks now meet thee, From thy loving God.
These vanities how vain Wander not again.
See, yon star, love- lighted, Sparkles from on high; See, yon hope, love- plighted, Cheers thy heaviest sky.
These vanities how vain! Wander not again.
Watch, my soul, the glory Coming brightly up, O'er yon forest hoary,
O'er yon mountain- top.
These vanities how vain! Wander not again.
25

26
DAWN.
" Tis the bridal morning;
Rise, make no delay; Put on thine adorning, Cast thy weeds away.
These vanities how vain! Wander not again.
Pierce these mists that blind thee, Press to yonder prize,
Break the bonds that bind thee,
Rise, my soul, arise!
These vanities how vain! Wander not again.
DAWN.
LIGHT of the better morning, Shine down on me!
Sun of the brighter heaven, Bid darkness flee!
Thy warmth impart To this dull heart: Pour in thy light, And let this night Be turned to day By thy mild ray! Lord Jesus, come, Thou day- star, shine,
Enlighten now This soul of mine!
Univ.- Bibl.
Giessen

THE MORNING- STAR.
Streaks of the better dawning Break on my sight, Fringing with silver edges These clouds of night Gems on morn's brow, Glow, brightly glow, Foretelling soon The ascending noon, Wakening this earth To second birth,
When He shall come To earth again, Who comes to judge, Who comes to reign.
THE MORNING- STAR.
THERE is a Morning- star, my soul,
There is a Morning- star;
" Twill soon be near and bright, tho' now It seems so dim and far.
And when time's stars have come and gone, And every mist of earth has flown,
That better star shall rise
On this world's clouded skies, To shine for ever!
27
The night is well nigh spent, my soul, The night is well nigh spent.
And soon above our heads shall shine A glorious firmament:

28
THINGS HOPED FOR.
A sky all glad and pure and bright, The Lamb, once slain, its perfect light A star without a cloud,
Whose light no mists enshroud, Descending never.
THINGS HOPED FOR.
THESE are the crowns that we shall wear, When all thy saints are crown'd; These are the palms that we shall bear d On yonder holy ground.
Far off as yet, reserved in heaven, Above that veiling sky,
They sparkle, like the star of even, To hope's far- piercing eye.
These are the robes, unsoil'd and white, Which then we shall put on,
When, foremost' mong the sons of light, We sit on yonder throne.
That City with the jewell'd crest, Like some new- lighted sun; A blaze of burning amethyst, Ten thousand orbs in one;That is the city of the saints, Where we so soon shall stand, When we shall strike these desert- tents, And quit this desert- sand.
ala

THINGS HOPED FOR.
These are the everlasting hills,
With summits bathed in day, The slopes down which the living rills, Soft- lapsing, take their way.
Fair vision! how thy distant gleam Brightens time's saddest hue; Far fairer than the fairest dream, And yet so strangely true!
Fair vision! how thou liftest up The drooping brow and eye; With the calm joy of thy sure hope Fixing our souls on high.
Thy light makes even the darkest page In memory's scroll grow fair; Blanching the lines which tears and age Had only deepened there.
With thee in view, the rugged slope Becomes a level way, Smoothed by the magic of thy hope, And gladden'd by thy ray.
With thee in view, how poor appear The world's most winning smiles; Vain is the tempter's subtlest snare, And vain hell's varied wiles.
Time's glory fades; its beauty now Has ceased to lure or blind; Each gay enchantment here below Has lost its power to bind.
29

30
Then welcome toil, and care, and pain! And welcome sorrow too!
THROUGH DEATH TO LIFE.
All toil is rest, all grief is gain, With such a prize in view.
Come crown and throne, come robe and palm! Burst forth glad stream of peace!
Come, holy city of the Lamb!
Rise, Sun of Righteousness!
When shall the clouds that veil thy rays For ever be withdrawn? Why dost thou tarry, day of days? When shall thy gladness dawn?
THROUGH DEATH TO LIFE.
THE star is not extinguished when it sets Upon the dull horizon; it but goes To shine in other skies, then re- appear In ours, as fresh as when it first arose.
The river is not lost, when, o'er the rock, It pours its flood into the abyss below: Its scattered force re- gathering from the shock, It hastens onward, with yet fuller flow.
The bright sun dies not, when the shadowing orb
Of the eclipsing moon obscures its ray: It still is shining on; and soon to us
Will burst undimmed into the joy of day.

THROUGH DEATH TO LIFE.
31
The lily dies not, when both flower and leaf Fade, and are strewed upon the chill sad ground:
Gone down for shelter to its mother- earth,
" Twill rise, re- bloom, and shed its fragrance round.
The dewdrop dies not, when it leaves the flower, And passes upward on the beam of morn: It does but hide itself in light on high, To its loved flower at twilight to return.
The fine gold has not perished, when the flame Seizes upon it with consuming glow: In freshened splendour it comes forth anew, To sparkle on the monarch's throne or brow.
Thus nothing dies, or only dies to live:
Star, stream, sun, flower, the dewdrop, and the gold;
Each goodly thing, instinct with buoyant hope, Hastes to put on its purer, finer mould.
Thus in the quiet joy of kindly trust,
We bid each parting saint a brief farewell: Weeping, yet smiling, we commit their dust To the safe keeping of the silent cell.
Softly within that peaceful resting- place,
We lay their weary limbs; and bid the clay Press lightly on them, till the night be past, And the far east give note of coming day.

32
The day of re- appearing! how it speeds!
He who is true and faithful speaks the word. Then shall we ever be with those we love,
Then shall we be for ever with the Lord.
HORA NOVISSIMA
The shout is heard; the archangel's voice goes forth;
The trumpet sounds; the dead awake and sing;
The living put on glory; one glad band,
They hasten up to meet their coming King.
Short death and darkness: Endless life and light!
Short dimming; endless shining in yon sphere,
Where all is incorruptible and pure;
The joy without the pain, the smile without the tear.
HORA NOVISSIMA.
FAR down the ages now,
Her journey well- nigh done, The pilgrim Church pursues her way, In haste to reach the crown.
The story of the past
Comes up before her view; How well it seems to suit her still, Old, and yet ever new.

HORA NOVISSIMA.
" Tis the same story still,
Of sin and weariness, Of grace and love still flowing down To pardon and to bless.
' Tis the old sorrow still,
The briar and the thorn; And' tis the same old solace yet ,The hope of coming morn.
No wider is the gate,
No broader is the way,
No smoother is the ancient path That leads to light and day.
No lighter is the load
Beneath whose weight we cry, No tamer grows the rebel flesh, Nor less our enemy.
No sweeter is the cup, Nor less our lot of ill; " Twas tribulation ages since, " Tis tribulation still.
No greener are the rocks,
No fresher flow the rills, No roses in the wilds appear, No vines upon the hills.
Still dark the sky above,
And sharp the desert air; " Tis wide, bleak desolation round, And shalow everywhere.
C
33

34
THE NIGHT COMETH.
Dawn lingers on yon cliff; But, oh, how slow to spring! Morning still nestles on yon wave, Afraid to try its wing.
No slacker grows the fight, No feebler is the foe, No less the need of armour tried, Of shield and spear and bow.
Nor less we feel the blank
Of earth's still absent King; Whose presence is of all our bliss The everlasting spring.
Thus onward still we press,
Through evil and through good, Through pain and poverty and want, Through peril and through blood.
Still faithful to our God,
And to our Captain true; We follow where he leads the way, The kingdom in our view.
THE NIGHT COMETH.
TIME's sun is fast setting, Its twilight is nigh, Its evening is falling
In cloud o'er the sky;

THE NIGHT COMETH.
Its shadows are stretching
In ominous gloom; Its midnight approaches, The midnight of doom.
35
Then haste, sinner, haste, there is mercy for thee,
And wrath is preparing,-flee, lingerer, flee!
Rides forth the fierce tempest On the wing of the cloud; The moan of the night- blast Is fitful and loud; The mountains are heaving, The forests are bow'd, The ocean is surging,
Earth gathers its shroud. Then haste, sinner, haste, there is mercy for thee,
And wrath is preparing,-flee, lingerer, flee!
The vision is nearing,
The Judge and the throne! The voice of the Angel
Proclaims" It is done. On the whirl of the tempest Its ruler shall come, And the blaze of his glory Flash out from its gloom; Then haste, sinner, haste, there is mercy for thee,
And wrath is preparing,- flee, lingerer, flee!

36
THE DAY AFTER ARMAGEDDON.
With clouds He is coming! His people shall sing, With gladness they hail him Redeemer and King. The iron rod wielding,
The rod of his ire, He cometh to kindle Earth's last fatal fire! Then haste, sinner, haste, there is mercy for thee,
And wrath is preparing,-flee, lingerer, flee!
THE DAY AFTER ARMAGEDDON.
" They have blown the trumpet, but none goeth to the battle."- EZEK, VII. 14.
" Tis the summons to battle! But the cry is unheard; The trumpet has spoken,
Not a warrior has stirred.
Hark, the summons to battle! It has sounded again, Still louder and keener; It has sounded in vain.
Yet a third time, and shriller, That war- note has blown; But the answer that cometh Is the echo alone.

THE DAY AFTER ARMAGEDDON.
" Tis the silence of silence! Tower, tent, vale, and hill, Field, forest, and highway ,All are soundless and still!
No challenge is lifted, No signal unfurl'd; " Tis man's dark hour of terror The awe of the world.
For the arm of Jehovah
Has been bared in its might, And the sword of his vengeance Has been burnished to snuite.
Through the ridges of battle His ploughshare has sped; And the tents of the living
Are the tombs of the dead.
The rude roar of millions Is hushed in an hour; The array of the mighty Is crushed in its power.
' Twas man's proudest muster Of sinew and steel: His army of armies,
Mail- clad to the heel.
No sun had e'er dawned on So fearful a day,
No trumpet had marshalled So dread an array.
37

38
THE DAY AFTER ARMAGEDDON.
As if earth in her frenzy, From each region afar, Had poured forth her nations For the shock of that war.
In the flush of their manhood, In the bud of their prime, In veteran ripeness,
The men of each clime,
Came thronging and rushing, Like rivers in flood, Defying the terrors
And vengeance of God.
For the ruler of darkness, The god of this world, Had summoned his armies, His banner unfurled.
As the storm- cloud it gathered, As the lightning it sped; As the mist it has vanished; All is still as the dead.
Like the desert at midnight ,Not a breath nor a beam; " Tis the silence of silence, The dream of a dream.
Now, chains for the spoiler!
Dark and swift be his doom! Thou hast trodden the nations; Thy treading is come?

REST YONDER.
Earth, cease now thy wailing, Thy wounds bleed no more; Lo, the curse is departing, Thy sorrows are o'er!
Rise, daughter of Judah; Awake now and sing;
It has come, the glad kingdom, He has come, the great King!
Thy long night is ending Of sorrow and wrong; For shame there is glory, For weeping a song.
The new morn is dawning, Bursts forth the new sun: The new verdure is smiling, The new age is begun
REST YONDER.
THIS is not my place of resting, Mine's a city yet to come; Onwards to it I am hasting, On to my eternal home.
In it all is light and glory,
O'er it shines a nightless day; Every trace of sin's sad story,
All the curse has passed away.
39

40
HOW LONG?
There the Lamb our Shepherd leads us By the streams of life along; On the freshest pastures feed us, Turns our sighing into song.
Soon we pass this desert dreary, Soon we bid farewell to pain; Never more be sad or weary, Never, never sin again.
HOW LONG?
Do they still linger,-these slow- treading ages? How long must we still bear their cold delay! Streak after streak the glowing dawn presages; And yet it breaks not, the expected day!
Each tossing year, with prophet- lip hath spoken,
Prepare your praises, earth awake and sing!"
And yet yon dome of blue remains unbroken; No tidings yet of the descending King!
Darkness still darkens; nearer now and nearer The lightnings gleam; the sea's scorched billows moan;
And the sere leaf of earth is growing serer Creation droops, and heaves a bitterer groan

41
HOW LONG?
O storm and earthquake, wind and warring thunder,
Your hour is coming! One wild outburst
more,
One other day of war, and wreek, and plunder; And then your desolating reign is o'er.
These plains are not your battle- field for ever; That glassy deep was never made for you; These mountains were not built for you to shiver;
These buds are not for your rude hands to
strew.
F'lee and give back to earth its verdant gladness, The early freshness of its unsoiled dew; Take hence your sackcloth, with its stormy sadness;
And let these wrinkled skies their youth
renew.
Give back that day of days, the seventh and fairest,
When, like a gem new- set, earth flung afar Her glory, of creation's gems the rarest,
Sparkling in beauty to each kindred star. Come back, thou holy love, so rudely banished, When evil came, and hate, and fear, and
wrong;
Return, thou joyous light, so quickly vanished; Revive, thou life that death hath quenched so long!

42
Re- fix, re- knit the chain so harshly broken, That bound this lower orb to yon bright heaven;
A LITTLE WHILE.
Hang out on high the ever- golden token,
That tells of earth renewed and man forgiven.
Withdraw the veil that has for ages hidden That upper kingdom from this nether sphere Renew the fellowship so long forbidden; O God, thyself take up thy dwelling here!
A LITTLE WHILE.
BEYOND the smiling and the weeping I shall be soon;
Beyond the waking and the sleeping, Beyond the sowing and the reaping, I shall be soon. Love, rest, and home! Sweet hope!
Lord, tarry not, but come.
Beyond the blooming and the fading I shall be soon;
Beyond the shining and the shading, Beyond the hoping and the dreading, I shall be soon. Love, rest, and home! Sweet hope!
Lord, tarry not, but come.

A LITTLE WHILE.
Beyond the rising and the setting I shall be soon;
Beyond the calming and the fretting, Beyond remembering and forgetting, I shall be soon; Love, rest, and home! Sweet hope!
Lord, tarry not, but come.
Beyond the gathering and the strowing I shall be soon;
Beyond the ebbing and the flowing, Beyond the coming and the going, I shall be soon. Love, rest, and home! Sweet hope!
Lord, tarry not, but come.
Beyond the parting and the meeting I shall be soon;
Beyond the farewell and the greeting, Beyond this pulse's fever- beating, I shall be soon. Love, rest, and home! Sweet hope!
Lord, tarry not, but come. Beyond the frost- chain and the fever I shall be soon;
43
Beyond the rock- waste and the river, Beyond the ever and the never,
I shall be soon. Love, rest, and home! Sweet hope!
Lord, tarrv not, but como.

44
NOT VERY FAR.
SURELY, yon heaven where angels see God's face,
Is not so distant as we deem,
From this low earth?" Tis but a little space, The narrow crossing of a slender stream; ' Tis but a veil, which winds might blow aside: Yes, these are all that us of earth divide, From the bright dwelling of the glorified, The Land of which I dream!
These peaks are nearer heaven than earth below,
These hills are higher than they seem;
" Tis not the clouds they touch, nor the soft
brow
Of the o'er- bending azure as we deem. " Tis the blue floor of heaven that they up- bear; And like some old and wildly rugged stair They lift us to the land where all is fair, The Land of which I dream!
These ocean waves, in their unmeasured sweep, Are brighter, bluer than they seem; True image here of the celestial deep,
Fed from the fulness of the unfailing stream, Heaven's glassy sea of everlasting rest, With not a breath to stir its silent breast, The sea that laves the land where all are blest, The Land of which I dream!

45
THE EVERLASTING MEMORIAL.
And these keen stars, the bridal gems of Night, Are purer, lovelier than they seem; Filled from the inner fountain of deep light, They pour down heaven's own beam; Clear- speaking from their throne of glorious blue,
In accents ever ancient, ever new,
Of the glad home above, beyond our view, The Land of which I dream!
This life of ours, these lingering years of earth, Are briefer, swifter than they seem;
A little while, and the great second birth
Of time shall come, the prophet's ancient theme!
Then He, the King, the Judge at length shall
come,
And for this desert, where we sadly roam, Shall give the kingdom for our endless home, he Land of which I dream!
THE EVERLASTING MEMORIAL.
UP and away, like the dew of the morning,
Soaring from earth to its home in the sun, So let me steal away, gently and lovingly, Only remembered by what I have done

46
My name and my place and my tomb, all forgotten,
The brief race of time well and patiently run. So let me pass away, peacefully, silently,
Only remembered by what I have done.
THE EVERLASTING MEMORIAL.
Gladly away from this toil would I hasten,
Up to the crown that for me has been won; Unthought of by man in rewards or in praises ,Only remembered by what I have done.
Up and away, like the odours of sunset, That sweeten the twilight as darkness comes
on;
So be my life,-a thing felt but not noticed, And I but remembered by what I have done.
Yes, like the fragrance that wanders in freshness,
When the flowers that it came from are closed up and gone,
So would I be to this world's weary dwellers, Only remembered by what I have done.
Needs there the praise of the love- written record,
The name and the epitaph graved on the
stone?
The things we have lived for,-let them be our
story,
We ourselves but remembered by what we have done.

THE EVERLASTING MEMORIAL.
47
I need not be missed, if my life has been bearing
( As its summer and autumn moved silently on)
The bloom, and the fruit, and the seed of its
season;
I shall still be remembered by what I have done.
I need not be missed, if another succeed me, To reap down those fields which in spring I
have sown;
He who ploughed and who sowed is not missed by the reaper,
He is only remembered by what he has done.
Not myself, but the truth that in life I have spoken,
Not myself, but the seed that in life I have
sown,
Shall pass on to ages; all about me forgotten, Save the truth I have spoken, the things I have done.
So let my living be, so be my dying;
So let my name lie, unblazoned, unknown; Unpraised and unmissed, I shall still be re membered;
Yes, but remembered by what I have done.

48
OUR ONE LIFE.
' TIS not for man to trifle! Life is brief, And sin is here.
Our age is but the falling of a leaf,
A dropping tear.
We have no time to sport away the hours, All must be earnest in a world like ours.
Not many lives, but only one have we, One, only one;
How sacred should that one life ever be, That narrow span!
Day after day filled up with blessed toil, Hour after hour still bringing in new spoil.
Our being is no shadow of thin air, No vacant dream,
No fable of the things that never were,
But only seem.
" Tis full of meaning as of mystery.
Tho' strange and solemn may that meaning be
Our sorrows are no phantom of the night, No idle tale;
No cloud that floats along a sky of light,
On summer gale.
They are the true realities of earth, Friends and companions even from our birth.
*

THE CONSOLATION.
49
O life below,-how brief, and poor, and sad! One heavy sigh.
O life above,-how long, how fair, and glad! An endless joy.
Oh, to be done with daily dying here; Oh, to begin the living in yon sphere!
O day of time, how dark! O sky and earth, How dull your hue;
O day of Christ, how bright! O sky and earth. Made fair and new!
Come, better Eden, with thy fresher green; Come, brighter Salem, gladden all the scene!
THE CONSOLATION.
THE storm has broken, and the heavy blast, That stifled morn's free breath and shook its dew,
Is dying into sunshine; and the last
Cold cloud has vanish'd from yon arch of blue.
I know it is but for a day; the war
Must soon be waged again' twixt earth and heaven;
Another tempest will arise to mar
The tranquil beauty of the fragrant even. And yet I joy as storm on storm awakes;
Not that I love the uproar or the gloom; But in each tempest over earth that breaks, I count one fewer outburst yet to come.
D

50
THE REAL.
No groan creation heaves is heaved in vain, Nor e'er shall be repeated; it is done. Once heaved it never shall be heaved again; Earth's pangs and throes are lessening one by one.
So falls the stroke of sorrow, and so springs
Strange joy and comfort from the very grief, Even to the weariest sufferer; so brings
Each heavy burden still its own relief. One cross the less remains for me to bear; Already borne is that of yesterday; That of to- day shall no to- morrow share; To- morrow's with itself, shall pass away. That which is added to the troubled past
Is taken from the future, whose sad store Grows less and less each day, till soon the last Dull wave of woe shall break upon our shore. The storm that yesterday plough'd up the sea Is buried now beneath its level blue; One storm the fewer now remains for me, Ere sky and earth are made for ever new.
THE REAL.
THERE are no dreams beyond the tomb; The night of dreams is o'er; " Tis only here they go and come, On this dull, shadowy shore

THE REAL.
When we arise from off this restless couch
Of weariness and pain,
When death awakes us with his stony toucl Never to sleep again,
Then shadows vanish; the invisible Rises before our view;
On every side comes up the real, The certain, and the true.
And when the morn of morns shall come, The resurrection- day,
Then yet more real shall all become, And shadows pass away.
How true and great that world must be, How false, how little this!
Man sees not what he seems to see, He seems not what he is.
51
Here is the hollow and untrue;
This is the night of dreams; Thickly o'erspread with mist and dew, Earth is not what it seems.
But morn is coming with its light, To chase each shade and ill, Then time's vain beauty shall take flight, Like rainbow from the hill.
And truth returneth from on high Gone is the night of dreams, Gone is the shadow and the lie; Earth shall be what it seems.

52
NOT HERE.
SOFTLY the winds were fanning this fresh cheek,
When heedless boyhood loved to dream and stray;
I loved earth's skies, nor deemed them sad or
bleak;
Its fields seemed still to breathe of joyous May.
I said, what better home shall this heart seek? Here let me dwell for aye.
Cold winter smote, frosts nipt, sore tempests broke,
And the dark cloud shut out the beauteous
day;
The fair flower perished, and the blast's rude shock
Struck the strong pine, and swept its pride
away;
My fond dream passed, I said as I awoke, " I would not live alway."
Yet would I not turn back, nor faint, nor sigh, Nor shun the war, nor murmur at the doom, I see the beacon- light of yonder sky,
Beyond the earth and sea, beyond the tomb And then I say," O Saviour, ever nigh, Light me through this cold gloom."

53
NOT NOW.
DAYS come and go,
In joy or wo: Days go and come, In endless sum.
Only the eterual day
Shall come but never go,
Only the eternal tide Shall never ebb but flow. O long eternity,
My soul goes forth to thee!
Suns set and rise
In these dull skies, Suns rise and set,
Till men forget,
The day is at the door,
When they shall rise no more. O everlasting Sun,
Whose race is never run, Be thou my endless light, Then shall I fear no night!
EARTH'S BEAUTY.
WHERE the wave murmurs not, Where the gust eddies not, Where the stream rushes not, Where the cliff shadows not, Where the wood darkens not, I would not be!

54
LIGHT'S TEACHINGS.
Bright tho' the heavens were, Rich tho' the flowers there, Sweet tho' the fragrant air, And all as Eden fair,
Yet as a dweller there, I would not be!
O wave and breeze and rill and rock and wood, Was it not God himself that called you GOOD!
LIGHT'S TEACHINGS.
THE light is ever silent;
It calls up voices over sea and earth, And fills the glowing air with harmonies, The lark's gay chant, the note of forest- dove, The lamb's quick bleat, and the bee's earnest
hum,
The sea- bird's winged wail upon the wave. It wakes the voice of childhood, soft and
clear;
The city's noisy rush, the village- stir, And the world's mighty murmur that had sunk,
For a short hour to sleep upon the down That darkness spreads for wearied limbs and eyes.
But still it sounds not, speaks not, whispers
not!
Not one faint throb of its vast pulse is heard By creature ear. How silent is the light!

55
LIGHT'S TEACHINGS.
F.ven when of old it waken'd Memnon's lyre, It breathed no musi: of its own; and still, When at sweet sunrise, on- its golden wings, It brings the melodies of dawn to man, It scatters them in silence o'er the earth.
The light is ever silent;
It sparkles on morn's million gems of dew, It flings tself into the shower of noon,
It weaves its gold into the cloud of sunset ,Yet not a sound is heard; it dashes full On yon broad rock, yet not an echo answers: It lights n myriad drops upon the flower, Yet not blossom stirs; it does not move The sligitest film of floating gossamer, Which tie faint touch of insect's wing would shiver.
The lightis ever silent;
Most sient of all heavenly silences;
Not even the darkness stiller, nor so still; Too swft for sound or speech, it rushes on Right hrough the yielding skies, a massive flod
Of mutitudinous beams; an endless sea, That flows but ebbs not, breaking on the
shore
Of the dark earth, with never- ceasing wave, Yet in its swiftest flow, or fullest springtide,
Univ.- Bibl. Giessen

56
LIGHT'S TEACHINGS.
Giving less sound than does one falling blossom,
Which the May- breeze lays lightly on the sward.
Such let my life be here;
Not marked by noise but by success alone; Not known by bustle but by usefil deeds, Quiet and gentle clear and fair as light; Yet full of its all- penetrating power, Its silent but resistless influence; Making no needless sound, yet ever working, Hour after hour, upon a needy warld!
Sunshine is ever calm;
There are no tempests in yon sea of beams, That bright Pacific on whose peaceful bosom
All happy things come floating dovn to us. Light has no hurricane, no angry plast, No turbid torrent laying waste ourplains. Morn after morn goes by, and the fesh light Pours in upon the darkness, yet nostorm Awakes, no eddy stirs the tranquil; low; No crested billow rises, and no foan Drifting along, tells of some tumultpast.
Sunshine is ever strong;
No blast can break or bend one singe ray; In seven- fold strength it faces wae and
wind;
Heedless of their opposing turbulence,

57
LIGHT'S TEACHINGS.
It passes through them in its quiet power Unruffled, and unbroken, and unbent. No might of armies, and no rage of storms, Can turn aside one sunbeam from its path, Or bate its speed, or force it back again To the far fountain- head from whence it
came.
Sunshine is ever pure;
No art of man can rob it of its beauty, Nor stain its unpolluted heavenliness. It is the fairest, purest thing in nature, Fit type of that fair heaven where all is pure, And into which no evil thing can enter, Where darkness comes not, where no shadow falls,
Where night and sin can have no dwellingplace.
Sunshine is ever joyous;
Its birthplace is in yon bright orb which flings,
O'er cliff and vale, its wealth of rosy smiles. Each sunbeam seems the very soul of joy; No sadness soils it; scattering gladsomeness, Like a bright angel, onward still it moves. The very churchyard brightens as the ray Alights upon its tombstones, and the turf Seems strangely heaving to the radiant glow,
As if fore- dating the expected sunrise,

58
THE NIGHT AND THE MORNING.
When, at the first gleam of the MorningStar
The faithful grave shall render up its Treasure,
And sunshine, such as earth has never known,
Shall fill these skies with mirth, and smiles and beauty,
Erasing each sad wrinkle from their brow, Which the long curse had deeply graven
there.
THE NIGHT AND THE MORNING
To dream a troubled dream, and then awaken To the soft gladness of a summer sky; To dream ourselves alone, unloved, forsaken, And then to wake' mid smiles, and love, and joy;
To look at evening on the storm's rude motion, The cloudy tumult of the fretted deep; And then at day- burst upon that same ocean, Soothed to the stillness of its stillest sleep ,So runs our course, so tells the church her story,
So to the end shall it be ever told;
Brief shame on earth, but after shame the glory,
That wanes not, dims not, never waxes old

HOPE OF DAY.
Lord Jesus, come, and end this troubled dreaming!
Dark shadows vanish, rosy twilight break! Morn of the true and real, burst forth, calm
beaming,
Day of the beautiful, arise, awake
HOPE OF DAY.
TILL the day dawn, And the Day- star arise, Father, O keep thy son, Thy feeble, faithless one! O guide him through the waste, Till the long gloom be past. It is a night of fear;
59
The path is rough and drear Clouds frown, blasts rush along, The tempests gather strong; Strange perils compass me, Of flood, fire, rock, and sea; Yet I, in loneliness,
Would fain still onward press.
O felt and known, but yet unseen be nigh; O loved and longed for, hear each hidden sigh: Leave me not, struggling thus, to sink and die.
Till the day dawn, And the Day- star arise, O Saviour, let thy love, Down- dropping from above,

60
HOPE OF DAY.
This withered soul renew With thy flower- freshening dew! O never- changing Friend, My failing steps attend; Hold thou me up, and so I shall pass safely through. Still keep me at thy side Thou who for me hast died O light me on my way,
My joy, my strength, my stay.
Oclasp me closer to thy pierced side, Thou who for me the death of deaths has died; Let not this staggering faith be too, too sorely tried.
Till the day dawn,
And the Day- star arise, Spirit of gentle love, Thou tempest- calming dove, Come, and within me dwell, Come, and all gloom dispel. Most blessed Comforter, My weary footsteps cheer. O light and lamp divine, Upon my midnight shine, Better than star or moon, Brighter than day's bright noon, O let thy joyous ray
Turn all my night to day.
When thou art absent, even my joy is sad, When thou art with me, even my grief is glad; Let not thy silence now sorrow to sorrow add.

DAY- SPRING.
Till the day dawn,
And the Day- star arise,
Church of the living God, Pursue thy upward road; Look not behind, nor stray From the well- trodden way. Be not ashamed to bear Thy cross on earth, nor fear Reproach and poverty, For him who died for thee. With girded loins press on, Till the reward is won. Think of thy absent Lord, Hold fast thy plighted word. Doff not thy weeds of widowhood, nor fear To let the world thro' which thou passest, hear The widow's cry, and see the widow's faithful tear.
DAY- SPRING.
THE loving morn is springing
From night's unloving gloom; And earth seems now arising In beauty from the tomb.
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See daylight far above us,
Tingeing each cloudy wreath, Ere it showers itself in splendour Upon the plain beneath.

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DAY- SPRING.
' Tis sparkling on the mountain- peak, " Tis hurrying down the vale, " Tis bursting thro' the forest- boughs, ' Tis freshening in the gale.
" Tis mingling with the river's smile, ' Tis glistening in the dew. " Tis flinging far its silver net, O'er ocean's braided blue.
" Tis blushing o'er the meadow's gold, " Tis alighting on the flower, Unfolding every gentle bud
To the gladness of the hour.
" Tis gilding the old ruin's moss, " Tis gleaming from the spire; And thro' the crumbling window- shafts It shoots its living fire.
" Tis quivering in the village- smoke, That curls the low roof o'er; It beats against the castle gate, And at the cottage door.
O'er the church- yard it is resting, On stone, and grass, and mould; Giving voice to each grey tombstone, As to Memnon's harp of old. O the gay burst of beauty
That is flushing over earth, And calling forth its millions To holy morning mirth!

DUST TO DUST.
Yet look we for a sunrise
More beautiful than this; And watch we for a dawning Of purer light and bliss. When a far fairer morning O'er greener hills shall rise, And a far fresher sunlight
Look down from bluer skies. Is not creation weary?
Has sin not reigned too long? Hear, Lord, thy Church's pleading, Come, end her day of wrong!
DUST TO DUST.
DUST receive thy kindred!
Earth take now thine own! To thee this trust is rendered In thee this seed is sown.
Guard the precious treasure, Ever- faithful tomb! Keep it all unrifled,
Till the Master come.
Time's tide of change and uproar Breaks above thy head Feet of restless millions
O'er thy chambers tread
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DUST TO DUST.
Earthquakes, whirlwinds, tempests, Tear the quivering ground; Voices, trumpets, thunders Fill the air around.
Roar of raging battle;
Shout, and shriek, and wail, Startle even the bravest, Turn the fresh cheek pale.
Torrent rolled on torrent,
Bursts o'er bank and bar; Sweeping down our valleys, Swells the rising war.
Billow meeting billow,
Beats the shattered strand, Rousing ocean- echoes, Shaking sea and land.
But these sounds of terror Pierce not this low tomb; Nor break the happy slumbers Of this quiet home.
Couch of the tranquil slumber For the weary brow; Rest of the faint and toiling, Take this loved one now
Turf of the shaded churchyard, Warder of the clay, Watch the toil- worn sleeper, Till the awaking day.

ARISE AND DEPART.
Watch the well- loved sleeper, Guard that placid form, Fold around it gently,
Shield it from alarm.
Clasp it kindly, fondly, To cherish not destroy; Clasp it as the mother
Clasps her nestling joy.
Guard the precious treasure, Ever faithful tomb;
Keep it all unrifled
Till the Master come.
ARISE AND DEPART.
BRETHREN, arise,
Let us go hence!
Defiled, polluted thus,
This is no home for us; Till earth is purified, We may not here abide. We were not born for earth; The city of our birth, The better paradise, Es far above these skies. Upward then let us soar, Cleaving to dust no more!
Univ. Bibl.
Giessen
X
65

66
ARISE AND DEPART.
Brethren, arise,
Let us go hence!
Death and the grave are here, The sick- bed and the bier. The children of the tomb May love this kindred gloom; But we the deathless band, Must seek the deathless land. The mortal here may rove, The immortal dwell above.
Here we can only die, Let us ascend on high.
Brethren, arise,
Let us go hence!
For we are weary here. The ever- falling tear, The ever- swelling sigh, The sorrow ever nigh, The sin still flowing on, Creation's ceaseless groan, The tumult near and far, The universal war,
The sounds that never cease, These are our weariness!
Brethren, arise,
Let us go hence!
This is not our abode; Too far, too far from God!: The angels dwell not here There falls not on the ear

ARISE AND DEPART.
The everlasting song, From the celestial throng. " Tis discord here alone, Earth's melody is gone; Her harp lies broken now, Her praise has ceased to flow!
Brethren, arise,
Let us go hence!
The New Jerusalem, Like a resplendent gem, Sends down its heavenly light, Attracting our dull sight. I see the bright ones wait At each fair pearly gate; I hear their voices call; I see the jasper wall, The clear translucent gold, The glory all untold!
Brethren, arise,
Let us go hence!
What are earth's joys and gem What are its diadems? Our crowns are waiting us Within our Father's house. Our friends above the skies Are bidding us arise; Our Lord, he calls away To scenes of sweeter day Than this sad earth can know. Let us arise and go!
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68
THE KINGDOM.
PEACE! Earth's last battle has been won; Its days of conflict now are o'er; The Prince of peace ascends the throne, And war has ceased from shore to shore.
Rest! the world's day of toil is past; Each storm is hushed above, below, Creation's joy has come at last, After six thousand years of woe.
Messiah reigns! earth's King has come! Its diadems are on his brow, Its rebel kingdoms have become His everlasting kingdom now.
This earth again is Paradise;
The desert blossoms as the rose; Clothed in its robes of bridal bliss, Creation has forgot its woes.
O, long- expected, absent long,
Star of creation's troubled gloom! Let heaven and earth break forth in song, Messiah! Saviour! art thou come?
For thou hast bought us with thy blood, And thou wast slain to set us free; Thou mad'st us kings and priests to God, And we shall reign on earth with thee!

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NEWLY FALLEN ASLEEP.
PAST all pain for ever,
Done with sickness now; Let me close thine eyes, mother, Let me smooth thy brow. Rest and health and gladness; These thy portion now; Let me press thy hand, mother, Let me kiss thy brow.
Eyes that shall never weep: Life's tears all shed, Its farewells said ,These shall be thine!
All well with thee; Oh, would that they were mine!
A brow without a shade;
Each wrinkle smoothed, Each throbbing soothed, That shall be thine!
All well with thee; Oh, would that it were mine!
A tongue that stammers not In tuneful praise, Through endless days, That shall be thine!
All well with thee;
Oh, would that it were mine!

70
NEWLY FALLEN ASLEEP.
A voice that trembles not;
All quivering past, Death's sigh the last; That shall be thine!
All well with thee;
Oh, would that it were mine!
Limbs that shall never tire,
Nor ask to rest,
In service blest;
These shall be thine!
All well with thee;
Oh, would that they were mine!
A frame that cannot ache;
Earth's labours done, Life's battle won;
That shall be thine!
All well with thee;
Oh, would that it were mine!
A heart that flutters not; No timid throb,
No quick- breathed sob;
That shall be thine!
All well with thee;
Oh, would that it were mine!
A will that swerveth not, At frown or smile,
At threat or wile:

NEWLY FALLEN ASLEEP.
That shall be thine!
All well with thee;
Oh, would that it were mine!
A soul still upward bent. On higher flight, With wing of light; That shall be thine!
All well with thee;
Oh, would that it were mine!
Hours without fret or care;
The race well run, The prize well won;
These shall be thine!
All well with thee;
Oh, would that they were mine!
Days without toil or grief;
Time's burdens borne, With strength well- worn; These shall be thine!
All well with thee;
Oh, would that they were mine!
Rest without broken dreams,
Or wakeful fears,
Or hidden tears;
That shall be thine!
All well with thee;
Oh, would that it were mine!
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72
THE FLESH RESTING IN HOPE.
Life that shall fear no death; God's life above, Of light and love; That shall be thine!
All well with thee;
Oh, would that it were mine!
Morn that shall light the tomb, And call from dust The slumbering just;
That shall be thine!
All well with thee;
Oh, would that it were mine!
THE FLESH RESTING IN HOPE.
" The grave is mine house: I have made my bed in the darkness.... the clods of the valley shall be sweet unto him."- Job xvii. 13, xxi. 33.
LIE down, frail body, here, Earth has no fairer bed, No gentler pillow to afford; Come, rest thy home- sick head. Lie down," vile body,"* here,
This mould is smoothly strown, No couch of flowers more softly spread: Come, make this grave thine own.
* Phil. iii. 21.

THE FLESH RESTING IN HOPE.
Lie down with all thy aches, There is no aching here; How soon shall all thy life- long ills For ever disappear.
Thro' these well- guarded gates
No foe can entrance gain;
No sickness wastes, nor once intrudes The memory of pain.
The tossings of the night,
The frettings of the day, All end, and, like a cloud of dawn, Melt from thy skies away.
Foot- sore and worn thou art,
Breathless with toil and fight, How welcome now the long- sought sleep Of this all- tranquil night.
Brief night and quiet couch In some star- lighted room, Watched but by one beloved eye, Whose light dispels all gloom;
A sky without a cloud, A sea without a wave ,These are but shadows of thy rest In this thy peaceful grave.
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Rest for the toiling hand,
Rest for the thought- worn brow, Rest for the weary way- sore feet, Rest from all labour now.

REST.
Rest for the fevered brain,
Rest for the throbbing eye; Thro' these parched lips of thine no more, Shall pass the moan or sigh.
Soon shall the trump of God
Give out the welcome sound,
That shakes the silent chamber- walls And breaks the turf- sealed ground.
Ye dwellers in the dust,
Awake, come forth, and sing; Sharp has your frost of winter been, But bright shall be your spring.
' Twas sown in weakness here; " Twill then be raised in power. That which was sown an earthly seed, Shall rise a heavenly flower.
REST.
NOT long, not long! The spirit- wasting fever Of this strange life shall quit each throbbing vein;
And this wild pulse flow placidly for ever; And endless peace relieve the burning brain.

REST.
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Earth's joys are but a dream; its destiny
Is but decay and death. Its fairest form Sunshine and shadow mixed. Its brightest day
A rain bow braided on the wreaths of storm.
Yet there is blessedness that changeth not; A rest with God, a life that cannot die; A better portion, and a brighter lot;
A home with Christ, a heritage on high.
Hope for the hopeless, for the weary rest,
More gentle than the still repose of even! Joy for the joyless, bliss for the unblest;
Homes for the desolate in yonder heaven
The tempest makes returning calm more dear; The darkest midnight makes the brightest star,
Even so to us when all is ended here,
Shall be the past, remembered from afar.
Then welcome change and death! Since these alone
Can break life's fetters, and dissolve its spell; Welcome all present change, which speeds as on So swift to that which is unchangeable.

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A PILGRIM'S SONG.
A FEW more years shall roll, A few more seasons come; And we shall be with those that rest, Asleep within the tomb. Then, O my Lord, prepare
My soul for that great day; O wash me in thy precious blood, And take my sins away.
A few more suns shall set
O'er these dark hills of time; And we shall be where suns are not, A far serener clime. Then, O my Lord, prepare
My soul for that blest day; O wash me in thy precious blood, And take my sins away.
A few more storms shall beat On this wild rocky shore; And we shall be where tempests cease, And surges swell no more.
Then, O my Lord, prepare
My soul for that calm day; O, wash me in thy precious blood, And take my sins away.

A PILGRIM'S SONG.
A few more struggles here, A few more partings o'er, A few more toils, a few more tears, And we shall weep no more. Then, 0 my Lord, prepare
My soul for that bright day; O wash me in thy precious blood, And take my sins away.
A few more Sabbaths here Shall cheer us on our way; And we shall reach the endless rest, The eternal Sabbath- day.* Then, O my Lord, prepare
My soul for that sweet day; O wash me in thy precious blood, And take my sins away.
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" Tis but a little while
And He shall come again,
Who died that we might live, who lives That we with Him may reign. Then, O my Lord, prepare
My soul for that glad day;
O wash me in thy precious blood, And take my sins away.
* The old Latin hymn expresses this well:" Illic nec sabbato Succedit sabbatum, Perpes lætitia Sabbatizantium."

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QUIS SEPARABIT.
" Tis thus they press the hand and part, Thus have they bid farewell again: Yet still they commune, heart with heart, Linked by a never- broken chain.
Still one in life and one in death, One in their hope of rest above, ' ne in their joy, their trust, their faith, One in each other's faithful love.
Yet must they part, and parting, weep;
What else has earth for them in store? These farewell pangs, how sharp and deep, These farewell words, how sad and sore!
Yet shall they meet again in peace, To sing the song of festal joy, Where none shall bid their gladness cease. And none their fellowship destroy.
Where none shall beckon them away, Nor bid their festival be done; Their meeting- time the eternal day, Their meeting- place the eternal throne.
" Ibi festivitas sine fine."- Augustine

FAR BETTER.
There, hand in hand, firm linked at last, And, heart to heart, enfolded all, They'll smile upon the troubled past, And wonder why they wept at all.
Then let them press the hand and part, The dearly loved, the fondly loving, Still, still in spirit and in heart, The undivided, unremoving.
FAR BETTER.
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O SAFE at home, where the dark tempter roams
not;
How have I envied thy far happier lot! Already resting where the evil comes not; The tear, the toil, the woe, the sin forgot.
O safe in port, where the rough billow breaks not,
Where the wild sea- moan saddens thee no more;
Where the remorseless stroke of tempest shakes
not;
When, when shall I too gain that tranquil shore.

80
O bright, amid the brightness all eternal;
When shall I breathe with thee the purer air, Air of a land whose clime is ever vernal, A land without a serpent or a snare.
FAR BETTER.
Away, above these scenes of guilt and folly Beyond this desert's heat and dreariness. Safe in the city of the ever- holy,
Let me make haste to join thy earlier bliss. Another battle fought, and oh, not lost ,Tells of the ending of this fight and thrall, Another ridge of time's lone moorland cross'd, Gives nearer prospect of the jasper wall.
Just gone within the veil, where I shall follow, Not far before me, hardly out of sight ,I down beneath thee in this cloudy hollow, And thou above me on yon sunny height.
Gone to begin a new and happier story, Thy bitterer tale of earth now told and done; These outer shadows for that inner glory
Exchanged for ever.- O thrice blessed one!
O freed from fetters of this lonesome prison, How I shall greet thee in that day of days, When he who died, yea rather who is risen, Shall these frail frames from dust and darkness raise.

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WANDERING DOWN.
I AM wandering down life's shady path, Slowly, slowly, wandering down; I am wandering down life's rugged path, Slowly, slowly, wandering down.
Morn, with its store of buds and dew, Lies far behind me now;
Morn, with its wealth of song and light, Lies far behind me now.
" Tis the mellow flush of sunset now, " Tis the shadow and the cloud; Tis the dimness of the dying eve, ' Tis the shadow and the cloud.
" Tis the dreamy haze of twilight now, " Tis the hour of silent trust; " Tis the solemn hue of fading skies, ' Tis the time of tranquil trust.
The pleasant heights of breezy life, The pleasant heights are past; The sunny slopes of buoyant life, The sunny slopes are past.
I shall rest in yon low valley soon, There to sleep my toil away: I shall rest in yon sweet valley soon, There to sleep my tears away.

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WANDERING DOWN.
One little hour will soothe away
Time's months of care and pain; One quiet hour will dream away Time's years of care and pain.
Laid side by side with those I love, How calm that rest shall be! Laid side by side with those I love, How soft that sleep shall be! I shall rise and put on glory When the great morn shall dawn; I shall rise and put on beauty When the glad morn shall dawn.
I shall mount to yon fair city, The dwelling of the blest; I shall enter yon bright city, The palace of the blest.
I shall meet the many parted ones, In that one home of joy; Lost love for ever found again, In that dear home of joy.
We have shared our earthly sorrows, Each with the other here; We shall share our heavenly gladness Each with the other there.
We have mingled tears together,
We shall mingle smiles and song; We have mingled sighs together,
We shall mingle smiles and song.

83
THE ROD.
I WEEP, but do not yield, I mourn, yet still rebel; My inmost soul seems steel'd, Cold and immoveable.
The wound is sharp and deep; My spirit bleeds within; And yet I lie asleep,
And still I sin, I sin.
My bruised soul complains Of stripes without, within; I feel these piercing pains; Yet still I sin, I sin.
O'er me the low cloud hung Its weight of shade and fear; Unmoved I pass'd along,
And still my sin is here. Yon massive mountain- peak The lightning rends at will; The rock can melt or break; I am unbroken still.
My sky was once noon- bright, My day was calm the while, I loved the pleasant light,
The sunshine's happy smile.

84
THE ROD.
I said, My God, oh, sure, This love will kindle mine; Let but this calm endure, Then all my heart is thine. Alas, I knew it not!The summer flung its gold Of sunshine o'er my lot,
And yet my heart was cold. Trust me with prosperous days, I said, Oh spare the rod; Thee and thy love I'll praise, My gracious, patient God. Must I be smitten, Lord?
Are gentler measures vain? Must I be smitten, Lord?
Can nothing save but pain? Thou trustedst me a while; Alas! I was deceived; I revell'd in the smile,
Yet to the dust I cleaved. Then the fierce tempest broke, I knew from whom it came; I read in that sharp stroke A father's hand and name. And yet I did Thee wrong;
Dark thoughts of Thee came in. A froward, selfish throng; And I allow'd the sin!

THE ROD.
I did Thee wrong, my God,
I wronged thy truth and love, I fretted at the rod, Against thy power I strove.
I said, My God, at length, This stony heart remove, Deny all other strength,
But give me strength to love. Come nearer, nearer still,
Let not thy light depart; Bend, break this stubborn will, Dissolve this iron heart.
Less wayward let me be, More pliable and mild; In glad simplicity
More like a trustful child.
Less, less of self each day,
And more, my God, of thee; Oh keep me in the way, However rough it be.
Less of the flesh each day, Less of the world and sin; More of thy Son, I pray, More of Thyself within. Riper and riper now,
Each hour let me become, Less fit for scenes below,
More fit for such a home.
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STRENGTH BY THE WAY.
More moulded to Thy will, Lord, Let Thy servant be, Higher and higher still, Liker and liker thee.
Leave nought that is unmeet; Of all that is mine own Strip me; and so complete My training for the throne.
STRENGTH BY THE WAY.
JESUS, while this rough desert- soil
I tread, be Thou my guide and stay; Nerve me for conflict and for toil; Uphold me on my stranger- way.
Jesus, in heaviness and fear,
' Mid cloud, and shade, and gloom I stray, For earth's last night is drawing near; Oh cheer me on my stranger- way. Jesus, in solitude and grief,
When sun and stars withhold their ray, Make haste, make haste to my relief; Oh light me on my stranger- way. Jesus, in weakness of this flesh,
When Satan grasps me for his prey; Oh give me victory afresh;
And speed me on my stranger- way.

THE STRANGER SEA- BIRD.
Jesus, my righteousness and strength, My more than life, my more than day; Bring, bring deliverance at length; O come and end my stranger way.
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THE STRANGER SEA- BIRD.
FAR from his breezy home of cliff and billow, Yon sea- bird folds his wing; Upon the tremulous bough of this streamshading willow
He stays his wandering.
Fanned by fresh leaves, and soothed by blossoms closing,
His lullaby the stream,
A stranger, in bewildered loneliness reposing, He dreams his ocean dream:His dream of ocean- haunts, and ocean- brightness,
The rock, the wave, the foam,
The blue above, beneath, the sea- cloud's trail of whiteness,
His unforgotten home.
And he would fly, but cannot, for the shadows Of night have barred his way; How could he search a path across these woods and meadows
To his far sea- home's spray?

88
Dark miles of thicket, swamp, and moorland dreary
Forbid his hopeless flight;
With plumage soiled, eye dim, heart faint, and wing all weary,
He waits for sun and light.
THE STRANGER SEA- BIRD.
And I, in this far land, a timid stranger, Resting by Time's lone stream,
Lie dreaming, hour by hour, beset with night and danger,
The Church's Patmos- dream:The dream of home possessed, and all home's gladness
Beyond these unknown hills,
Of solace after earth's sore days of strangersadness,
Beside the eternal rills.
Life's exile past, all told its broken story; Night, death, and evil gone; This more than Egypt- shame exchanged for Canaan- glory,
And the bright city won!
Come then, O Christ! earth's Monarch and Redeemer,
Thy glorious Eden bring,
Where I, even I, at last, no more a trembling dreamer,
Shall fold my heavy wing.

89
HOPE DEFERRED.
How oft the morn has cheated us, As, with unsleeping eye, We lay upon our silent couch, And watched the changing sky.
How often, as the heavy hours Stole by with soundless haste We've said, Ah now the dawn begins, The weary night is past.
Hours went and came, but yet no streak On eastern cloud or hill,
We looked in vain, no sign appeared, ' Twas night and silence still.
" Twas but the starlight, not the sun, The moonlight, not the day, We thought it was the dawn, but now, That dawn seems far away.
" Tis thus, beguiled with fond desire, And sick with hope deferred, The watching Church, with eager ear, The well known cry has heard;
" He whom you look for is at hand, Both hope and fear are done!" No,' tis not yet,-and still she waits The still unrisen sun.

90
HOPE DEFERRED.
Age after age, in love and faith, She has, with longing eye, Been watching every streak of dawn In yon perplexing sky.
And shall she now give up her trust, And turn her eye away,
As if there were no sun for her, No hope of light and day?
She will not, for she knows how sure The promise of her Lord;
She will not, for she knows how true Is the unchanging word.
The morn shall come; nay, He himself Brighter than morn's best ray, Shall come to bid the night depart. And bring at last the day.
Then shall the weary night- watch cease When, counting each lone hour, She marked the shadows flitting by The lattice of her tower.
' Twas not in vain she kept the watch, When all around her slept; " Twas not in vain she waited thus, And loved, and longed, and wept.
It dawns at last, the long- loved morn; It comes, the meeting- day, And in its joys shall be forgot The sorrows of delay.

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THE BLANK.
ONE flower may fill another's place,
(
With breath as sweet, with hues as glowing One ripple in yon ocean- space Be lost amid another's flowing.
One star in yon bright azure dome
May vanish from its sparkling cluster, Unmissed, unmourned, and, in its room, Some rival orb eclipse its lustre.
But who shall fill a brother's room?
Or who shall soothe the bosom's grieving? Who heal the heart, around his tomb Too faithfully, too fondly cleaving?
Can I supply youth's memories?
Or speak the word in childhood spoken? Can I re- knit the severed ties,
Replace, retune the chord once broken?
It is not here, it is not now,
That hearts are knit no more to sever; Grief's wrinkles rased from cheek and brow, And life's long blanks filled up for ever.

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THE LITTLE FLOCK.
A LITTLE flock; So calls He thee,
Who bought thee with his blood; A little flock, disowned of men, But owned and loved of God.
A little flock! So calls He thee; Church of the first- born, hear! Be not ashamed to own the name; It is no name of fear.
A little flock! Yes, even so; A handful among men,
Such is the purpose of thy God; So willeth He; Amen!
Not many rich or noble called, Not many great or wise; They whom God makes his kings and priests, Are poor in human eyes.
Church of the everlasting God,
The Father's gracious choice,
Amid the voices of this earth How feeble is thy voice;
Thy words amid the words of earth, How noiseless and how low! Amid the hurrying crowds of time, Thy steps how calm and slow!
But' mid the wrinkled brows of earth, Thy brow how free from care;

THE LITTLE FLOCK.
' Mid the flushed cheeks of riot here, Thy cheek how pale and fair! Amid the restless eyes of earth, How stedfast is thine eye, Fixed on the silent loveliness, Of the far eastern sky.
A little flock! Tis well,' tis well; Such be her lot and name;
Thro' ages past it has been so, And now' tis still the same.
But the chief Shepherd comes at length; Her feeble days are o'er,
No more a handful in the earth, A little flock no more.
No more a lily among thorns; Weary, and faint, and few,
But countless as the stars of heaven, Or as the early dew.
Then entering the eternal halls, In robes of victory,
That mighty multitude shall keep The joyous jubilee.
Unfading palms they bear aloft, Unfaltering songs they sing; Unending festival they keep,
In presence of the King.*
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* Τῶν ἀγγέλων και των ἁγίων έχει ευστική
SOUTW. ATHANABILA

94
THE SLEEP OF THE BELOVED.
" So he giveth his beloved sleep."- PSALM Cxxvii. 2. SUNLIGHT has vanished, and the weary earth
Lies resting from a long day's toil and pain, And, looking for a new dawn's early birth,
Seeks strength in slumber for its toil again. We too would rest; but ere we close the eye Upon the consciousness of waking thought, Would calmly turn it to yon star- bright sky
And lift the soul to Him who slumbers not. Above us is thy hand, with tender care, Distilling over us the dew of sleep: Darkness seems loaded with oblivious air, In deep forgetfulness each sense to steep.
Thou hast provided midnight's hour of peace, Thou stretchest over us the wing of rest With more than all a parent's tenderness, Foldest us sleeping to thy gentle breast.
Grief flies away; care quits our easy couch, Till, wakened by thy hand, when breaks the day,
Like the lone prophet by the angel's touch, We rise to tread again our pilgrim- way.
God of our life! God of each day and night Oh, keep us still till life's short race is run Until there dawns the long, long day of light, That knows no night, yet needs no star nor
sun.

95
THE NAME OF NAMES.
FATHER, thy Son hath died The sinner's death of woe; Stooping in love from heaven to earth, Our curse to undergo; Our curse to undergo,
Upon the hateful tree.
Give glory to thy Son, O Lord,
Put honour on that name of names By blessing me!
Father, thy Son hath borne
The sinner's doom of shame; Bearing his cross without the gate He met the law's full claim; He met the law's full claim, Sin's righteous penalty.
Give glory to thy Son, O Lord, Put honour on that name of names By pardoning me!
Father, thy Son hath poured
His life- blood on this earth, To cleanse away our guilt and stains To give us second birth; To give us second birth,
From sin to set us free. Give glory to thy Son, O Lord, Put honour on that name of names By cleansing me!

96
THE NAME OF NAMES.
Father, thy Son has risen, O'ercoming hell's dark powers His surety- death was all for us, His surety- life is ours; His surety- life is ours, Ours, ours eternally. Give glory to thy Son, O Lord, Put honour on that name of names
By quickening me!
Father, thy Son to thee
Is now gone up on high, Enthroned in heaven at thy right hand,
He reigns eternally; He reigns eternally,
In might and majesty. Give glory to thy Son, O Lord,
Put honour on that name of names
By raising me!
Father, thy Son on earth
No one to own him found,
He passed among the sons of men Rejected and disowned; Rejected and disowned,
That we received might be! Give glory to thy Son, O Lord, Put honour on that name of names By owning me! Father, thy Son is king,
Heaven's crown and earth's is his, For us, for us, he bought the crown, For us he earned the bliss;

MINE AND THINE.
For us he earned the bliss,
Amen, so let it be!
Give glory to thy Son, O Lord, Put honour on that name of names By crowning me!
MINE AND THINE.
" Didicisti quod nihil tui boni præcesserat, et gratiâ Dei conversus es ad Deum."- AUGUSTINE.
ALL that I was,-my sin, my guilt, My death was all my own; All that I am, I owe to thee, My gracious God alone.
The evil of my former state Was mine and only mine; The good in which I now rejoice Is thine and only thine.
The darkness of my former state, The bondage all was mine; The light of life in which I walk, The liberty is thine.
Thy grace first made me feel my sin.
It taught me to believe;
Then, in believing peace I found,
And now I live, I live.
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98
ABIDE IN HIM.
All that I am, even here on earth, All that I hope to be, When Jesus comes and glory dawns, I owe it, Lord, to thee.
ABIDE IN HIM.
" Tecum volo vulnerari Te libenter amplexari
In cruce desidero."- OLD HYMN,
CLING to the Crucified!
His death is life to thee ,Life for eternity.
His pains thy pardon seal; His stripes thy bruises heal; His cross proclaims thy peace, Bids every sorrow cease. His blood is all to thee,
It purges thee from sin; It sets thy spirit free,
It keeps thy conscience clean. Cling to the Crucified!
Cling to the Crucified! His is a heart of love, Full as the hearts above; Its depths of sympathy Are all awake for thee; His countenance is light, Even in the darkest night.

THE BELOVED SON.
That love shall never change,
That light shall ne'er grow dim; Charge thou thy faithless heart, To find its all in him. Cling to the Crucified!
THE BELOVED SON.
" This is my beloved Son in whom I am well pleased."MATT. iii. 17.
IT is the Father's voice that cries ' Mid the deep silence of the skies: " This, this is my beloved Son, In Him I joy, in Him alone."
In Him my equal see revealed, In Him all righteousness fulfilled, In Him, the Lamb, the victim see, Bound, bleeding, dying on the tree.
And can you fail to love again? Far fairer he than sons of men! His very name is fragrance poured, Immanuel, Jesus, Saviour, Lord!
99
He died, and in his dying, proved How much, how faithfully he loved: At my right hand, his glories shine, Is my beloved, sinner, thine?

100
THE SINBEARER.
O full of glory, full of grace, Redeemer of a ruined race, Beloved of the Father, come, Make in these sinful hearts a home!
Beloved of the Father, thou,
To whom the saints and angels bow; Immanuel, Jesus, Saviour, come,
Make in these sinful hearts thy home!
THE SINBEARER.
He was wounded for our transgressions; He was bruise for our iniquities."- ISA. liii. 5.
THY works, not mine, O Christ, Speak gladness to this heart;
They tell me all is done;
They bid my fear depart.
To whom, save thee, Who can alone For sin atone, Lord, shall I flee?
Thy pains, not mine, O Christ, Upon the shameful tree, Have paid the law's full price, And purchased peace for me. To whom, save thee,& c.

THE SINBEARER.
Thy tears, not mine, O Christ, Have wept my guilt away; And turned this night of mine Into a blessed day.
To whom, save thee,& c.
Thy bonds, not mine, O Christ, Unbind me of my chain, And break my prison- doors, Ne'er to be barred again.
To whom, save thee,& c.
Thy wounds, not mine, O Christ, Can heal my bruised soul, Thy stripes, not mine, contain The balm that makes me whole. To whom, save thee,& c.
Thy blood, not mine, O Christ, Thy blood so freely spilt, Can blanch my blackest stains, And purge away my guilt.
To whom, save thee,& c.
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Thy cross, not mine, O Christ,
Has borne the awful load Of sins, that none in heaven, Or earth could bear, but God.
To whom, save thee,& c. Thy death, not mine, O Christ, Has paid the ransom due; Ten thousand deaths like mine, Would have been all too few. To whom, save thee,& c.

102
THE SUBSTITUTE.
Thy righteousness, O Christ, Alone can cover me; No righteousness avails, Save that which is of thee. To whom, save thee,& c.
Thy righteousness alone Can clothe and beautify; wrap it round my soul; In this I'll live and die.
I
To whom, save thee,& c.
THE SUBSTITUTE.
" Jesu, plene caritate, Manus tuæ perforatæ
Laxent mea crimina; Latus tuum lanceatum, Caput spinis coronatum,
Hæc sint medicamina."- OLD HYMN.
I LAY my sins on Jesus,
The spotless Lamb of God; He bears them all and frees us From the accursed load. I bring my guilt to Jesus, To wash my crimson stains White in his blood most precious, Till not a spot remains. I lay my wants on Jesus;
All fulness dwells in Him: He heals all my diseases, He doth my soul redeem.

LOST BUT FOUND.
I lay my griefs on Jesus, My burdens and my cares; He from them all releases,
He all my sorrows shares. I rest my soul on Jesus,
This weary soul of mine; His right hand me embraces, I on his breast recline. I love the name of Jesus,
Immanuel, Christ, the Lord; Like fragrance on the breezes, His name abroad is poured. I long to be like Jesus, Meek, loving, lowly, mild. I long to be like Jesus,
The Father's holy child. I long to be with Jesus,
Amid the heavenly throng, To sing with saints his praises, To learn the angels' song.
LOST BUT FOUND.
" Arte mirâ, miro consilio, Quærens ovem suam summus opilio, Ut nos revocaret ab exilio."- OLD HYMN.
I WAS a wand'ring sheep,
I did not love the fold;
I did not love my Shepherd's voice,
I would not be controlled.,
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104
LOST BUT FOUND.
I was a wayward child, I did not love my home, I did not love my father's voice, I loved afar to roam.
The Shepherd sought his sheep, The Father sought his child, They followed me o'er vale and hill, O'er deserts waste and wild. They found me nigh to death, Famished, and faint, and lone; They bound me with the bands of love; They saved the wandering one!
They spoke in tender love,
They raised my drooping head; They gently closed my bleeding wounds, My fainting soul they fed. They washed my filth away,
They made me clean and fair;
They brought me to my home in peace ,The long- sought wanderer!
Jesus my Shepherd is,
" Twas He that loved my soul, " Twas He that washed me in his blood, " Twas He that made me whole.
" Twas He that sought the lost,
That found the wandering sheep, " Twas He that brought me to the fold, ' Tis He that still doth keep.

THE WORD MADE FLESH.
I was a wand'ring sheep,
I would not be controlled: But now I love my Shepherd's voice, I love, I love the fold! I was a wayward child;
I once preferred to roam, But now I love my Father's voice, I love, I love his home.
THE WORD MADE FLESH.
" Ye know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that though he was rich, yet for your sakes he became poor, that ye through his poverty might be rich."- 2 COR
viii. 9.
THE Son of God in mighty love,
Came down to Bethlehem for me; Forsook his throne of light above, An infant upon earth to be.
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In love, the Father's sinless child Sojourned at Nazareth for me; With sinners dwelt the undefiled, The Holy One in Galilee.
Jesus, whom angel- hosts adore,
Became a man of griefs for me; In love, though rich, becoming poor, That I, through him, enriched might be.

106
THE DARKNESS AND THE LIGHT.
Though Lord of all, above, below, He went to Olivet for me; There drank my cup of wrath and woe, When bleeding in Gethsemane.
The ever- blessed Son of God
Went up to Calvary for me; There paid my debt, there bore my load, In his own body on the tree.
Jesus, whose dwelling is the skies, Went down into the grave for me; There overcame my enemies,
There won the glorious victory. In love the whole dark path he trod, To consecrate a way for me; Each bitter footstep marked with blood, From Bethlehem to Calvary.
' Tis finished all; the veil is rent,
The welcome sure, the access free; Now then we leave our banishment, O Father, to return to thee!
THE DARKNESS AND THE LIGHT.
" Ye were sometimes darkness, but now are ye light in the Lord."- EPH. V. 8.
" LET there be light," Jehovah said, The beam awoke, the light obeyed; Bursting on chaos dark and wild, Till the glad earth and ocean smiled.

THE VOICE FROM GALILEE.
Formless, and void, and dark as night, My heart remained, till heavenly light, Obedient to the word divine,
On my dark soul began to shine.
Light broke upon my rayless tomb, The day- star rose upon my gloom; And with its gentle new- born ray Brighten'd my darkness into day.
Glory to Thee, by all be given;--Of light the light, in earth and heaven; Of joys the joy, of suns the sun, Jesus, the Father's chosen One.
THE VOICE FROM GALILEE.
" Of his fulness have all we received, and grace for grace." -JOHN i. 16.
I HEARD the voice of Jesus say,
Come unto me and rest;
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Lay down, thou weary one, lay down Thy head upon my breast. I came to Jesus as I was,
Weary, and worn, and sad, I found in Him a resting- place, And he has made me glad.
I heard the voice of Jesus say, Behold, I freely give

108
A BETHLEHEM HYMN.
The living water,-thirsty one, Stoop down, and drink, and live. I came to Jesus and I drank Of that life- giving stream; My thirst was quench'd, my soul revived, And now I live in Him.
heard the voice of Jesus say, I am this dark world's light, Look unto me, thy morn shall rise, And all thy day be bright. I look'd to Jesus, and I found In Him, my Star, my Sun; And in that light of life I'll walk, Till travelling days are done.
A BETHLEHEM HYMN.
" Mundum implens, in præsepio jacens."- AUGUSTINE
HE has come! the Christ of God; Left for us his glad abode; Stooping from his throne of bliss, To this darksome wilderness.
He has come! the Prince of Peace; Come to bid our sorrows cease; Come to scatter with his light, All the shadows of our night.

THIS DO IN REMEMBRANCE OF ME.
He the Mighty King has come! Making this poor earth his home; Come to bear our sin's sad load; Son of David, Son of God.
He has come, whose name of grace Speaks deliverance to our race; Left for us his glad abode; Son of Mary, Son of God!
Unto us a child is born! Ne'er has earth beheld a morn, Among all the morns of time, Half so glorious in its prime.
Unto us a Son is given!
He has come from God's own heaven' Bringing with him from above, Holy peace and holy love.
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THIS DO IN REMEMBRANCE OF ME. HERE, O my Lord, I see thee face to face;
Here would I touch and handle things unseen; Here grasp with firmer hand the eternal grace, And all my weariness upon Thee lean. Here would I feed upon the bread of God; Here drink with Thee the royal wine of heaven;
Here would I lay aside each earthly load, Here taste afresh the calm of sin forgiven.

110 THIS DO IN REMEMBRANCE OF ME.
This is the hour of banquet and of song,
This is the heavenly table spread for me; Here let me feast, and, feasting, still prolong The brief bright hour of fellowship with Thee.
Too soon we rise; the symbols disappear; The feast, though not the love, is passed and
gone;
The bread and winę remove, but Thou art here; Nearer than ever; still my Shield and Sun.
I have no help but thine; nor do I need Another arm save thine to lean upon. It is enough, my Lord, enough, indeed; My strength is in thy might, thy might alone.
I have no wisdom, save in Him who is
My wisdom and my teacher, both in one; No wisdom can I lack while Thou art wise, No teaching do I crave, save thine alone.
Mine is the sin, but thine the righteousness; Mine is the guilt, but thine the cleansing blood;
Here is my robe, my refuge, and my peace; Thy blood, thy righteousness, O Lord my God. I know that deadly evils compass me,
Dark perils threaten, yet I would not fear, Nor poorly shrink, nor feebly turn to flee; Thou, O my Christ, art buckler, sword, and
spear.

THE FEAST.
111
But see, the Pillar- cloud is rising now, And moving onward thro' the desert- night; It beckons, and I follow, for I know
It leads me to the heritage of light. Feast after feast thus comes and passes by; Yet passing, points to the glad feast above, Giving sweet foretaste of the festal joy,
The Lamb's great bridal feast of bliss and love
THE FEAST.
LOVE strong as death, nay, stronger, Love mightier than the grave, Broad as the earth, and longer Than ocean's wildest wave. This is the love that sought us, This is the love that bought us, This is the love that brought us
To gladdest day from saddest night, From deepest shame to glory bright, From depths of death to life's fair height, From darkness to the joy of light: This is the love that leadeth
Us to his table here. This is the love that spreadeth For us this royal cheer

112
THE SHADOW OF THE CROSS.
GOD'S ISRAEL.
" HAPPY sons of Israel, Who in pleasant Canaan dwell;" Happy they, but happier we, If Jehovah's own we be.
Happy citizens who wait Within Salem's hallowed gate; Happy they, but happier we Who the heavenly Salem see.
Happy sons of Levi there, Who within thy house of prayer Always stand; but happier we, Day and night still praising Thee.
For Jerusalem above
Is the city that we love; Jerusalem our home we call, Heavenly mother of us all.
The first two lines of the above are from the old translation of the 66th Psalm by George Sandys.
THE SHADOW OF THE CROSS.
OPPRESS'D with noon- day's scorching heat, To yonder cross I flee; Beneath its shelter take my seat; No shade like this for me!

CHRIST OUR PEACE.
Beneath that cross clear waters burst, A fountain sparkling free; And there I quench my desert thirst, No spring like this for me!
A stranger here, I pitch my tent Beneath this spreading tree; Here shall my pilgrim life be spent; No home like this for me!
For burdened ones a resting- place, Beside that cross I see; Here I cast off my weariness; No rest like this for me!
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CHRIST OUR PEACE.
I THOUGHT upon my sins, and I was sad,
My soul was troubled sore and filled with pain;
But then I thought on Jesus and was glad, My heavy grief was turned to joy again.
I thought upon the law, the fiery law, Holy, and just, and good in its decree; I looked to Jesus, and in Him I saw
That law fulfilled, its curse endured for me. I thought I saw an angry frowning God
Sitting as Judge upon the great white throne My soul was overwhelmed; then Jesus shewed His gracious face, and all my dread was gone.
H

114
CHILD'S PRAYER.
I saw my sad estate, condemned to die, Then terror seized my heart, and dark de spair;
But when to Calvary I turned my eye,
I saw the cross, and read forgiveness there.
I saw that I was lost, far gone astray,
No hope of safe return there seemed to be; But then I heard that Jesus was the way, A new and living way prepared for me. Then in that way, so free, so safe, so sure, Sprinkled all o'er with reconciling blood, Will I abide, and never wander more, Walking along in fellowship with God.
CHILD'S PRAYER.
* They that seek me early shall find me."- PROV. viii. 17
HOLY FATHER! hear my cry, Holy Saviour! bend thine ear, Holy Spirit! come thou nigh;
Father, Saviour, Spirit, hear. Father, save me from my sin, Saviour, I thy mercy crave, Gracious Spirit, make me clean; Father, Son, and Spirit, save.

CHILD'S MORNING HYMN.
Father, let me taste thy love, Saviour, fill my soul with peace, Spirit, come my heart to move; Father, Son, and Spirit, bless.
Father, Son, and Spirit,-thou One Jehovah, shed abroad All thy grace within me now; Be my Father and my God.
115
CHILD'S MORNING HYMN.
" He wakeneth morning by morning; He wakeneth mine ear to hear."- ISA. 1. 4.
THE morning, the bright and the beautiful morning
Is up, and the sunshine is all on the wing: With its fresh flush of gladness the landscape adorning,
A gladness which nothing but morning can bring.
The earth is awaking, the sky and the ocean, The river and forest, the mountain and plain; The city is stirring its living commotion,
And the pulse of the world is reviving again. And we too awake, for our heavenly Father, Who soothed us so gently to sleep on his breast,

116
CHILD'S MORNING HYMN.
And made the soft stillness of evening to gather Around us, now calls us again from our rest. But ere to our labours and duties returning,
We hasten to give him the praise that is meet, And in solemn devotion, the first hours of morning,
Our freest and freshest we lay at his feet.
Then, happy in heart, not a moment delaying, In the breeze of the dawning so pleasant and cool,
No loitering, no lingering, no trifling, no playing,
But eager and active, we haste to the school. How sweet are its hours that shine o'er us so
brightly;
How pleasant its lessons, how short seems the day;
Its hours are but moments, they fly off so lightly, When we are so busy, so cheerful, and gay.
Then away to the school in the sweet summer morning,
God's blessing upon us, his light on our road; And let all the lessons we daily are learning, Be only to bring us more surely to God. Oh now, let us haste to our heavenly Father, And ere the fair skies of life's dawning be dim, Let us come with glad hearts, let us come altogether,
And the morn of our youth let us hallow to Him.

TO M. L. B.
TO M. L. B.
No night descend on thee; O'er thee no shadows come! Safe be thy journey through This vale of cloud and gloom. Daybreak be ever thine;
With fresh and rosy hours, Calm sunshine of the morn, Odours, and dews, and flowers.
Light dwell in thee, and thou Dwell ever in the light; No wrinkle on thy brow,
Thine eye still blue and bright.
117
One long sweet spring be thine,
With buds still bursting through; Fresh blossoms every hour,
And verdure fair and new.
Peace be thy gentle guest, Peace holy and divine, God's blessed sunlight still, Upon thy pathway shine. His Spirit fill thy soul,
And cast out every sin, His own deep joy impart,
And make a heaven within.

118
THE TWO ERAS OF THE LAND.
THE TWO ERAS OF THE LAND.
OF old they sung the song of liberty,
They sung it upon mountain and on plain, Till every echo of both land and sea Pealed back the song again.
They poured it on the morning's genial gale, It floated out upon the evening's calm, And the rich stream- breeze from each fragrant vale
Gave back the song in balm.
The peasant sang it in his straw- roofed cot, The noble sang it in his princely hall, Till the vexed land, responding to the note, Rose up at freedom's call.
The blithe blue morning's newly- wakened ray Of cloudless summer coming freshly down, Saw chains and bondage, tears and slavery, The tyrant's sword and frown.
The northern noonday saw the rising war, Like sudden tempest on a wind- swept sea, The shout rose upwards to the evening- star, The land, the land is free!
Amid the opressor's threats they planted high The ancient flag of sacred liberty,
That banner floats unthreatened to the sky, The Bruce hath set them free!

THE TWO ERAS OF THE LAND.
119
They sung the song of liberty again,
" Twas a still louder song than that of yore; It went like thunder- notes o'er hill and plain, It woke each echoing shore.
It woke the heart of age and heedless youth, It woke the spirit of the sleeping land, It roused them to the voice of holy truth, Who could that voice withstand?
Hear ye the truth, and hearing it obey, Know ye the truth, the truth shall make you free,
Love not the midnight, love the lightsome day, " Tis life and liberty.
The Free One makes you free; he breaks the rod,
He bids you lift your heads to sky and sun, As freemen of the everlasting God, Kneeling to Him alone.
The Free One makes you free; be slaves to
none,
Priest, prince, or self, in body or in soul; Serve thou with all thy strength thy God alone, Yield but to his control.
The True One gives you truth; a heritage, Richer than that which kings may buy or sell,
For children's children to the farthest age; Guard thou that treasure well.

MARTYR'S HYMN.
Round went the message over rock and plain, Like burning words from lips of prophet old, Priest, king, and lord opposed the voice in vain, It would not be controlled.
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Wide o'er the land went forth the new- born day,
Brightening alike the cot, the hall, the throne,
Long years of darkness vanish at its ray, Ages of night have gone.
The Christ has come, the breaker of all chains, The giver of the heavenly liberty;
Peace, light, and freedom to these hills and plains!
The land, the land is free!
MARTYR'S HYMN.
" The glory of children are their fathers."- PROV. xvii. 6
THERE was gladness in Zion, her standard was flying,
Free o'er her battlements, glorious and gay, All fair as the morning shone forth her adorning,
And fearful to foes was her godly array.

MARTYR'S HYMN.
There is mourning in Zion, her standard is lying
Defiled in the dust to the spoiler a prey; And now there is wailing, and sorrow prevailing,
For the best of her children are weeded away.
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The good have been taken, their place is forsaken;
The man and the maiden, the green and the grey;
The voice of the weepers wails over the sleepers, The martyrs of Scotland that now are away!
The hue of her waters is crimson'd with slaughters,
The blood of the martyrs has redden'd the clay;
And dark desolation broods over the nation, For the faithful are perished, the good are away!
On the mountains of heather they slumber together;
On the wastes of the moorland their bodies decay;
How sound is their sleeping, how safe is their keeping, Though far from their kindred they moulder
away.

122
THE KEST- DAY.
Their blessings shall hover, their children to
cover,
Like the cloud of the desert, by night and
by day;
Oh, never to perish, their names let us cherish, The martyrs of Scotland that now are away!
THE REST DAY.
Hæc dies, in quâ quies
Mundo redditur;.
Tempus enim est,
Quo resurrexit, qui nos deilexit.
Gaude, plaude, ama, clama Voce validâ;
Surge, curre,
Vere quære, Christum istum Corde, sorde procul positâ.
HYMN.
FOR thee we long and pray, O blessed Sabbath- morn! And all the week we say,
Oh! when wilt thou return? Come, come away, Day of glad rest, Of days the best, Sweet Sabbath day!

THE INNER CALM.
Thou tellest us how Christ
Arose and left the tomb;
And all the week we say,
Oh! when will Sabbath come? Come, come away,& c.
Thou tellest us how we,
Like him shall leave the tomb;
And all the week we say,
Oh! when will Sabbath come? Come, come away.& c.
Thou tellest of a rest,
A peaceful happy home, Where all the saints are blest: Oh! when will Sabbath come Ceme, come away,& c.
THE INNER CALM.
CALM me, my Ged, and keep me calm, While these hot breezes blow, Be like the night- dew's cooling balm Upon earth's fevered brow.
Calm me, my God, and keep me calm, Soft resting on thy breast, Soothe me with holy hymn and psalm, And bid my spirit rest.
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124
THE INNER CALM.
Calm me, my God, and keep me calm; Let thine outstretched wing Be like the shade of Elim's palm, Beside her desert- spring.
Yes, keep me calm, tho' loud and rude The sounds my ear that greet, Calm in the closet's solitude,
Calm in the bustling street.
Calm in the hour of buoyant health, Calm in my hour of pain, Calm in my poverty or wealth, Calm in my loss or gain.
Calm in the sufferance of wrong, Like him who bore my shame,
Calm' mid the threatening, taunting throng, Who hate thy holy name.
Calm when the great world's news with power My listening spirit stir;
Let not the tidings of the hour E'er find too fond an ear.
Calm as the ray of sun or star Which storms assail in vain; Moving unruffled thro' earth's war, The eternal calm to gain.

1
125
THE DISBURDENING.
LAY down thy burden here; With such a weary load, Thou canst not climb yon hill, Yon steep and rugged road.
' Tis rough, and wild, and high, Thickets and rocks impede; Scant resting- place between, How canst thou upward speed?
Lay down thy burden here, Poor weary son of time; So shall thy limbs be strong, So shalt thou upward climb.
The sun is hot, no cloud
To shield thee from his ray; It scorches up thy strength,
Stay now, poor climber, stay.
Thou breathest hard, the drops Are on thy burning brow; Try not another step,
Lay down thy burden now.
So shalt thou climb yon hill, Up to its steepest height; Like eagle of the rock,
With easy joyful flight.

126
SURSUM CORDA.
So shalt thou bear the toils
Thy God appoints to thee; So shalt thou serve thy God In happy liberty.
SURSUM CORDA.
Go up, go up, my heart,
Dwell with thy God above; For here thou canst not rest, Nor here give out thy love.
Go up, go up, my heart, Be not a trifler here; Ascend above these clouds, Dwell in a higher sphere.
Let not thy love flow out
To things so soiled and dim; Go up to heaven and God, Take up thy love to him.
Waste not thy precious stores On creature- love below; To God that wealth belongs, On him that wealth bestow.

THE HEAVENLY SOWING
Go
up, reluctant heart, Take up thy rest above; Arise, earth- clinging thoughts, Ascend, my lingering love!
THE HEAVENLY SOWING.
SoWER divine!
Sow the good seed in me, Seed for eternity.
" Tis a rough barren soil, Yet by thy care and toil, Make it a fruitful field An hundredfold to yield. Sower divine,
Plough up this heart of mine
Sower divine!
Quit not this wretched field, Till thou hast made it yield, Sow thou by day and night In darkness and in light. Stay not thy hand, but sow: Then shall the harvest grow.
Sower divine,
Sow deep this heart of mine!
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128
COMPANIONSHIP.
Sower divine!
Let not this barren clay Lead thee to turn away; Let not my fruitlessness Provoke thee not to bless; Let not this field be dry: Refresh it from on high.
Sower divine,
Water this heart of mine!
COMPANIONSHIP.
NOT with the light and vain,
The man of idle feet and wanton eyes; Not with the world's gay, ever- smiling train; My lot be with the grave and wise.
Not with the trifler gay,
To whom life seems but sunshine on the
wave,
Not with the empty idler of the day; My lot be with the wise and grave.
Not with the jesting fool,
Who knows not what to sober truth is due, Whose words fly out without or aim or rule; My lot be with the wise and true.

DISAPPOINTMENT.
Not with the man of dreams,
In whose bright words no truth nor wisdom lies,
Dazzling the fervent youth with mystic gleams My lot be with the simply wise.
With them I'd walk each day,
From them time's solemn lessons would I learn;
That false from true, and true from false I may Each hour more patiently discern.
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DISAPPOINTMENT.
Ecce mundus turbat et amatur, quid si tranquillus esset."- AUGUSTINE.
TRUST not these seas again, Tho' smooth and fair: Trust not these waves again, Shipwreck is there.
Trust not these stars again, Tho' bright and fair: Trust not these skies again, Tempest is there.
Trust not that breeze again, Gentle and fair;
Trust not these clouds again, Lightning is there.
IN

130
DISAPPOINTMENT.
Trust not that isle again, Flower- crowned and fair; Trust not its rocks again, Earthquake is there.
Trust not these flowers again, Fragrant and fair; Trust not that rose again, Blighting is there.
Trust not that earth again, Verdant and fair;
Trust not its fields again, Winter is there.
Trust not these hopes again Sunny and fair;
Trust not that smile again, Peril is there.
Trust not this world again, Smiling and fair; Trust not its sweets again, Wormwood is there.
Trust not its love again, Sparkling and fair; Trust not its joy again, Sorrow is there.

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THE TIME TO MEET.
" TIs autumn now:
And as we part, The dry brown leaf
Is rustling o'er the ground; Making the sadness sadder, and the cloud Of the long farewell deeper in its gloom.
Not thus let us meet;
' Mid falling leaves
And sere, frost- stricken flowers; But when the leaf is budding in its freshness.
And the rich blossom putting forth its gladness.
Not thus let us meet;
It is too sad;
But when the buried verdure
In coming up to meet the joyous sun, When the new spring looks round upon the hills,
Full of youth's buoyant promise and bright
song,
Then let us meet.
Yes, when the spring- breeze blows, And the gay garden blooms,
And the wide forest waves with budding green. And the freed streamlet warbles thro' the
broom,

132
And the clear air takes up the happy note Of skylark singing to the rosy dawn,
Then let us meet;
GONE BEFORE.
And meeting, cheer each other's weary heart With the dear hope of everlasting spring, And the fair land that spreads beneath the slopes
Of the eternal hills,
Where nothing dies; Where nothing fades; But all is without ending or decay, The sky, the sun, the light, The peace, the truth, the love, And above all, the joy!
GONE BEFORE.
THOU art in heaven, and I am still on earth! " Tis years, long years since we were parted
here;
I still a wanderer amid grief and fear, And thou the tenant of a brighter sphere. Yet still thou seemest near;
But yesterday it seems, Since the last clasp was given,
Since our lips met,
And our eyes looked into each other's depths.

GONE BEFORE.
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Thou art amid the deathless, I still here, Amid things mortal, in a land of graves, A land o'er which the heavy- beating waves Of changing time move on, a land where raves The storm, which whoso braves Must have his anchor fixed, Firmly within the veil;So let my anchor be;
Such be my consolation and my hope!
Thou art amid the sorrowless, I here, Amid the sorrowing; and yet not long Shall I remain' mid sin, and fear, and wrong. Soon shall I join you in your sinless song. Thy day has come, not gone, Thy sun has risen, not set, Thy life is now beyond The reach of death or change; Not ended but begun.
Such shall our life be soon! And then, the meeting- day, How full of light and joy! All fear of change cast out, All shadows passed away, The union sealed for ever Between us and our Lord.

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THE ELDER BROTHER.
YES, for me, for me he careth With a brother's tender care; Yes, with me, with me he shareth Every burden, every fear.
Yes, o'er me, o'er me he watcheth, Ceaseless watcheth, night and day: Yes, even me, even me he snatcheth From the perils of the way.
Yes, for me he standeth pleading, At the mercy- seat above; Ever for me interceding,
Constant in untiring love
Yes, in me abroad he sheddeth Joys unearthly, love and light; And to cover me he spreadeth His paternal wing of might.
Yes, in me, in me, he dwelleth; I in him and he in me! And my empty soul he filleth, Here and through eternity.
Thus I wait for his returning,
Singing all the way to heaven; Such the joyful song of morning, Such the tranquil song of even

135
LIFE FROM THE DEAD.
SPIRIT of everlasting grace,
Infinite source of life, come down! These tombs unlock, these dead upraise, Thy glorious power and love make known
Breathe o'er this valley of the dead,
Send forth thy quickening might abroad, Till, rising from their tombs, they spread, In full array, the host of God!
Thy heritage lies desolate,
And all thy pleasant places mourn, Oh look upon our low estate,
In lovingkindness, Lord, return!
Now let thy glory be revealed,
Now let thy presence with us rest; Oh heal us, and we shall be healed! Oh bless us, and we shall be blest!
IT IS FINISHED.
BLESSED be God, our God!
Who gave for us his well- beloved Son, His gift of gifts, all other gifts in one. Blessed be God, our God!

136
LAUS DEO.
What will he not bestow
Who freely gave this mighty gift, unbought, Unmerited, unheeded, and unsought, What will He not bestow?
He spared not His Son!
" Tis this that silences each rising fear, " Tis this that bids the hard thought disappear, He spared not His Son!
Who shall condemn us now?
Since Christ has died, and ris'n, and gone above,
For us to plead at the right hand of love, Who shall condemn us now?
" Tis God that justifies!
Who shall recal the pardon or the grace, Or who the broken chain of guilt replace? " Tis God that justifies!
The victory is ours!
For us in might came forth the Mighty One, For us he fought the fight, the triumoh won; The victory is ours'
LAUS DEO.
EVERLASTING praises To the Father be! Everlasting praises
To the Saviour be!

PRESS ON.
Everlasting praises To the Spirit be! Everlasting praises To the blessed Trinity!
Everlasting praises
For the Father's love! Everlasting praises
For the Saviour's love! Everlasting praises
For the Spirit's love! Everlasting praises
To the Three- One God of love!
PRESS ON.
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BE brave, my brother!
Fight the good fight of faith
With weapons proved and true; Be faithful and unshrinking to the death; Thy God will bear thee through; The strife is terrible,
Yet' tis not,' tis not long; The foe is not invincible,
Though fierce and strong.
Be brave, my brother! The recompence is great,
The kingdom bright and fair; Beyond the glory of all earthly state, Shall be the glory there.

138
PRESS ON.
Grudge not the heavy cost, Faint not at labour here, Tis but a life- time at the most, The day of rest is near.
Be brave, my brother!
He, whom thou servest, slights Not ev'n his weakest one;
No deed, tho' poor, shall be forgot, However feebly done.
The prayer, the wish, the thought, The faintly spoken word,
The plan that seemed to come to nought, Each has its own reward.
Be brave, my brother;
Enlarge thy heart and soul;
Spread out thy free glad love, Encompass earth, embrace the sea, As does that sky above.
Let no man see thee stand In slothful idleness,
As if there were no work for thee In such a wilderness.
Be brave, my brother!
Stint not the liberal hand,
Give, in the joy of love;
So shall thy crown be bright, and great, Thy recompence above; Reward, not like the deed,
That poor weak deed of thine; But like the God himself who gives, Eternal and divine.

139
EVER NEAR.
I CLOSE my heavy eye ,Saviour, ever near! I lift my soul on high
Thro' the darkness drear. Be thou my light, I cry, Saviour, ever dear!
I feel thine arms around, Saviour, ever near! With thee let me be found, So shall I never fear, Whatever ills abound;
Saviour, ever dear!
Thine is the day and night, Saviour, ever near; Thine is the dark and light; Be thou my covert here; O shield me with thy might, Saviour, ever dear!
And when I come to die, Saviour, ever near, Receive my parting sigh;
And in the hour of fear, Be to my spirit nigh,
Saviour, ever dear!

140
CREATION.
In the beginning was THE WORD; The Word was God.
In the beginning was the Word; And His abode
From everlasting was with God.
His name
I AM,
Jehovah, God, the Lord,
Ever to be adored:
The eternal Son,
The ever- blessed one.
From all, to all eternity,
The brightness of the eternal father's glory He!
Creator of the heaven and earth,
Their Lord and King.
Creator of the heaven and earth,
The angels sing!
To him all praise and glory bring; His power Adore,
From which all things had birth, By which they still stand forth, In beauty glad,
With heavenly radiance clad. Praise, praise His ever- flowing love, That brightens all below, and gladdens all
above.

CREATION.
" Let there be light,""' twas He that spoke, " And there was light." " Let there be light,"' twas He that spoke, And the long night,
At his divine command, took flight.
The ray
Of day
O'er the deep darkness broke; The sleeping world awoke: Earth, sea, and sky
Burst forth in praises high
To Him who made the light to be!-- He is the Light of light, and there is none but He!
This green, glad, goodly earth of ours His hand did frame.
This green, glad, goodly earth of ours Doth still proclaim,
141
By day and night, His wondrous name. These seas
Are His;
Each mountain- peak that towers;
These clouds with their fresh showers; These streams that run
Quick glancing in the sun;
These tossing woods, these trembling flowers, And all that men call bright in this bright world of ours.
All that has life and breath He made, In earth, sea, sky,

142
All that has life and breath He made,
To swim or fly,
To creep or bound; and, in his eye, All good
They stood,
CREATION.
In beauty pure arrayed, As if they could not fade. How fair this frame,
How excellent His name
Who, in the fulness of His love,
Transplanted thus to earth the Paradise above!
All glory to the eternal WORD, Earth's Lord and King;
All glory to the eternal Word, Ye angels, sing!
Ye sons of earth, your tribute bring!
His name
Proclaim ,Jehovah, God, the Lord;
Ever to be ador'd,
Maker of all,
Before him prostrate fall:
By every voice, and tribe, and tongue, For ever and for ever be his praises sung.

143
DESERT LILIES.
DESERT lilies, desert lilies! Blooming gaily in the sand Of this untrodden land;
With your leaf as soft and green, With your flower as fair in tint, As delicate in form,
As beautiful in hue,
As fragrant and as fresh,
As sweet at morn or even, As bright with smiles and dew, As in our happier plains, Cherished by genial rains.
Desert lilies, desert lilies!
Shining quietly like gems, Upon your verdant stems; With no breath of man to dim you, With no city smoke to taint you, With no hand of man to pluck you, With no eye of man to see you, With no care of man to tend you, With no child's glad face to watch
you,
As you spring and as you bloom; With no sorrowing lip to mourn you, As you fade and as you die. Nought but the wind's caress In this lone wilderness!

144
DESERT LILIES.
Desert lilies, desert lilies! Bidding welcome to the ray Of this fierce- flaming day, Courting no cloud nor shade Of rock, or cliff, or glade, Opening your purple eyes Unfearing to these skies. What sunlight ye have seen, What moonshine in these heavens, What starlight clear and glad, What soft dew at early dawn, What cold breezes o'er this waste! What sunsets ye have seen, On these wondrous peaks around, What tints of purple glow, At sunset or at morn!
What strange and solemn airs Have you heard, as all night long Ye listened, night by night, Coming forth from yon wild crags, Moving out along these slopes, Stealing down yon mighty hill To the silent sands beneath, Creeping thro' the wiry boughs Of these tarfas, far and near! O life, how glad and blest, Thou seem'st in such a waste! O beauty what a power, To cheer in loneliest hour! O earth, where is the spot, Which thy God visits not?

THE FRIEND.
On which his eye of light
Rests not in gentle love; O'er its most barren sands, Rejoicing from above!
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O desert rocks, if one small leaf Can make these wastes look fair, What will ye be when these scorched plains,
Earth's richest buds shall bear?
When eastern suns shall cease to scorch, And storms no more destroy;
And these lone valleys shall give forth Their streams, and flowers, and joy.
THE FRIEND.
THERE is a star in yonder sky,
Above all stars its seems to shine, " Tis long since first it fixed my eye, And I have learned to call it mine. It rose out of my own blue sea,
Then passed above those mountains green, Moving along all placidly
As if it loved to watch the scene. Far up the heavens it floated slow, Gleaming across yon solemn tower, As if it loved the scene below;A willing lingerer hour by hour.
K

146
It seemed to take its place each night, A sentinel to guard my rest, An eye of love and gentle light,
Pouring sweet thoughts into my breast. In through my lattice, as I lay
Half- soothed to sleep, it nightly shone. And, as I gazed upon its ray,
I felt that I was not alone.
THE FRIEND.
What tears that gentle star has dried,
What joy that sparkling orb has given; Thoughts for this earth too high, too wide, Dreams of its own all- radiant heaven.
It spoke of day beyond this night, In the glad land where all is fair; It pointed to the home of light,
And bid me rest my spirit there. It spoke of Him whose love is light, Whose death is life, whose cross is peace, Whose favour is the star of night,
The source and pledge of endless bliss. May I not love that star on high?
May not its light the fairest seem? May I not trace a loving eye,
A kindly smile in every beam?

147
SUMMER GLADNESS.
WHAT a world with all its sorrows!
What a scene, would it but stay; What an earth, if all its morrows Were as fair as this" to- day!"
When earth's summer- pulse is beating With the fever- fire of June, And the flowers fling up their greeting, Quivering to the joyous noon.
When the streamlet, smiling gladly, Hurries calmly, brightly by, Not a voice around speaks sadly Not a murmur nor a sigh.
Sunbeams, with their fond caresses, Smooth each rosebud's velvet fold, Lingering in the glowing tresses Of yon rich laburnum's gold. Nature all its gay adorning Opens to the day's bright bliss, Like a child at early morning, Wakened by its mother's kiss. What a world when all its sorrow Shall for ever pass away! What an earth! when each" Shall be fairer than" to- day."
" to- morrow
19

148
THE BLANK.
THE flowers of Spring have come and gone; Bright were the blossoms, brief their stay; They shone, and they were shone upon,
They flourished, faded, passed away. So, hidden from our sorrowing eyes, Our young, sweet, spring- bloom buried lies One blast of earth swept o'er the flower, It died, the blossom of an hour.
The summer flowers are freshly blowing Beneath glad July's genial morn; Like smiles the face of earth bestrowing, For fragrance and for beauty born; My summer- flower has passed away; " Tis now a blank, where all was gay ,A blank, where at each evening's close, I hoped to watch my budding rose.
Soon Autumn, with o'erflowing measure, Will hang, upon each bending tree, The clusters of its golden treasure, The life of earth's vast family. Alas, in one disastrous hour, From my green vine has fallen the flower;
A blighted hue its branches wear, My autumn- tree looks cold and bare.

CHOOSE WELL.
And winter, with its blast wide- roaming,
In cloud and darkness shall come forth; Beneath its grave of snow entombing
The varied verdure of the earth. But my sweet blossom safely laid, Beneath yon cloister's solemn shade, In gentle undisturbed repose,
Shall sleep in winter's grave of snows.
CHOOSE WELL.
O quam dulce, quam jucundum Erit tunc odisse mundum;
Et quam triste, quam amarum Mundum habuisse carum.
0 DEAD in sin!
Wilt thou still choose to die The death of deaths eternally? Dost thou not fear the gloom Of the eternal tomb?
O dead to life!
Wilt thou the life from heaven Reject? the life so freely given; Wilt thou choose sin and tears Through everlasting years?
149
OLD HYMN.

150
THE USEFUL LIFE.
O dead to Christ!
Wilt thou despise the love
Of Him who stooped from joy above, To shame on earth for thee, That he might set thee free?
O dead to God!
Wilt thou not seek his face?
Wilt thou not turn and own the grace? Wilt thou not take the heaven, So freely to thee given?
THE USEFUL LIFE.
Ψυχή μου, ψυχή μου,
9
Αναστα, τὶ καθευδεις.
OLD GREEK HYMN.
Go labour on; spend, and be spent ,Thy joy to do the Father's will; It is the way the Master went, Should not the servant tread it still?
Go labour on;' tis not for nought;
Thy earthly loss is heavenly gain; Men heed thee, love thee, praise thee not; The Master praises, what are men?

THE USEFUL LIFE.
Go labour on; enough, while here, If he shall praise thee, if he deign Thy willing heart to mark and cheer; No toil for Him shall be in vain.
Go labour on; your hands are weak, Your knees are faint, your soul cast down; Yet falter not; the prize you seek,
Is near,-a kingdom and a crown
1
151
Go labour on, while it is day,
The world's dark night is hastening on; Speed, speed thy work, cast sloth away: It is not thus that souls are won. Men die in darkness at your side, Without a hope to cheer the tomb; Take up the torch and wave it wide,
The torch that lights time's thickest gloom.
Toil on, faint not, keep watch and pray; Be wise the erring soul to win; Go forth into the world's highway, Compel the wanderer to come in.
Toil on, and in thy toil rejoice;
For toil comes rest, for exile home; Soon shalt thou hear the Bridegroom's voice, The midnight peal, behold I come;

152
" TWAS I THAT DID IT.
I SEE the crowd in Pilate's hall, I mark their wrathful mien: Their shouts of" Crucify" appal, With blasphemy between.
And of that shouting multitude I feel that I am one; And in that din of voices rude, I recognise my own.
I see the scourges tear his back, I see the piercing crown, And of that crowd who smite and mock, I feel that I am one.
Around yon cross, the throng I see, Mocking the sufferer's groan, Yet still my voice it seems to be, As if I mocked alone.
" Twas I that shed the sacred blood, I nailed him to the tree,
I crucified the Christ of God, I joined the mockery
Yet not the less that blood avails, To cleanse away my sin, And not the less that cross prevails To give me peace within.

153
PASSING THROUGH.
I WALK as one who knows that he is treading A stranger- soil;
As one round whom a serpent- world is spreading
Its subtle coil.
I walk as one but yesterday deliver'd From a sharp chain;
Who trembles lest the bond so newly sever'd Be bound again.
I walk as one who feels that he is breathing Ungenial air;
For whom, as wiles, the tempter still is wreathing
The bright and fair.
My steps, I know, are on the plains of danger, For sin is near;
But, looking up, I pass along, a stranger, In haste and fear.
This earth has lost its power to drag me downward;
Its spell is gone;
My course is now right upward, and right
onward,
To yonder throne.

154
Hour after hour of time's dark night is stealing In gloom away;
Speed thy fair dawn of light and joy and healing,
Thou Star of day!
FORWARD.
For thee its God, its King, the long- rejected, Earth groans and cries; For thee the long- beloved, the long- expected, Thy Bride still sighs!
FORWARD.
SHALL this life of mine be wasted? Shall this vineyard lie untilled? Shall true joy pass by untasted, And this soul remain unfilled? Shall the God- given hours be scattered, Like the leaves upon the plain? Shall the blossoms die unwatered By the drops of heavenly rain Shall I see each fair sun waking, And not feel it wakes for me? Each glad morning brightly breaking, And not feel it breaks for me? Shall I see the roses blowing,
And not wish to bloom as they? Holy fragrance round me throwing, Luring others on the way.

FORWARD.
Shall I hear the free bird singing, In the summer's stainless sky, Far aloft its glad flight winging, And not seek to soar as high?
Shall this heart still spend its treasures On the things that fade and die? Shall it court the hollow pleasures Of bewildering vanity?
Shall these lips of mine be idle? Shall I open them in vain? Shall I not, with God's own bridle, Their frivolities restrain?
155
Shall these eyes of mine still wander? Or, no longer turned afar, Fix a firmer gaze and fonder
On the bright and morning Star? Shall these feet of mine, delaying, Still in ways of sin be found, Braving snares, and madly straying On the world's bewitching ground? No, I was not born to trifle
Life away in dreams or sin! No, I must not, dare not stifle Longings such as these within!
Swiftly moving, upward, onward, Let my soul in faith be borne Calmly gazing, skyward, sunward, Let my eye unshrinking turn!

156
NOTHING BETWEEN.
Where the Cross, God's love revealing, Sets the fettered spirit free, Where it sheds its wondrous healing, There, my soul, thy rest shall be.
Then no longer idly dreaming
Shall I fling my years away; But, each precious hour redeeming, Wait for the eternal day!
NOTHING BETWEEN.
FONDLY, fondly returneth the daylight To the old hill's grey peak ere the dawn has begun;
Slowly, slowly recedeth the day- light
From the old hill's grey peak when the long day is done.
Softly, softly returneth the ripple,
To its rest on the sand of yon green- margined bay; Sadly, sadly recedeth the ripple
To mingle again with the sea's drifting spray.
Gladly, gladly the dew of the twilight
Floats up to the rainbow at blush of the dawn; Slowly, slowly the dew of the twilight Seeks the dark sod again when the sun is withdrawn.

157
It is thus, even thus, that the sunlight of heaven,
Returns and retires with the morn and the
NOTHING BETWEEN.
even;
Thus slowly retiring as sleep seals the eye, Returning at day- spring with joy from on high. Night's last gleam and truest, my God's gracious love,
Morn's first beam and fondest, his joy from above.
Yet,' tis not night alone that comes between My God and me, to mar the peaceful scene; But the world's blazing day, hour after hour, Beats on my head, and, with its scorching power, Dries up my dew and sap, nay, dims my eye, With its bewildering blaze of vanity. Then comes the quiet and the cool of night, To give me back the calm, of which the light Of this gay world had sought me to bereave. O gentle shadows of the tranquil eve! Eve with thy stillness and soul- soothing balm, What do I owe thee for thy solemn calm! Thou comest down like some peace- bringing dove,
To soothe and cheer me with thy silent love.

158
FOLLOW THOU ME.
RESTORE to me the freshness of my youth,
And give me back my soul's keen edge again That time has blunted! 0, my early truth ,Shall I not you regain?
Ah, mine has been a wasted life at best, All unreality and long unrest;
Yes, I have lived in vain!
But now no more in vain; my soul, awake, Shake off the snare, untwist the fastening chain:
Arise, go forth, the selfish slumber break, Thy idle dreams restrain!
Still half thy life before thee lies untrod;Live for the endless living, live for God;
I must not live in vain!
My God! the way is rough and sad the night, And my soul faints and breathes this weeping strain;
And the world hates me with its bitterest
spite ,For I have left its train,
With thee and with thy saints to cast my lot; Ah, my dear Lord, let me not be forgot, Let me not live in vain!
Can we not part in silence, since for ever.
This world and I? From scorn and taunt refrain?

159
Must it still hate and wound? still stir the fever
FOLLOW THOU ME.
Of this poor throbbing brain?
Ah, yes, it must be so, my God, my God; ' Tis the true discipline, the needed rod, Else I should live in vain!
The foe is strong, his venomed rage I dread, Yet, O my God, do thou his wrath restrain; Shield me in battle, soothe my aching head In the sharp hour of pain:
But more than this, oh give me toiling faith, Large- hearted love, and zeal unto the death; Let me not live in vain.
Restore to me the freshness of my youth,
And give me back my soul's keen edge again: Ah, let my spring return! bright hope and
truth
Shall I not you regain?
No wasted life, my God, shall mine now be. Hours, days, and years filled up with toil for
thee:
I shall not live in vain!

160
VANITY.
Τα ἀληθως ἀγαθα ουκ ἐστιν ἐν τῇ κατηγάμεν yn.
ORIGEN.
NAY,' tis not what we fancied it, This magic world of ours;
We thought its skies were only blue, Its fields all sun and flowers;
Its streams all summer- bright and glad, Its seas all smiles and calms,
Its paths from youth to age, one long Green avenue of palms.
But clouds came up with gloom and shade, Our sky was overcast,
The hot mist threw its blight around, Sunshine and flowers went past.
Hopes perished, that had hung like wreaths Around youth's buoyant brow,
And joys, like withered autumn leaves, Dropped from the shaken bough.
Yet from these clouds comes forth the light, Light beaming from on high; And from these faded flowers spring The flowers that cannot die.

OLD WORDS.
Far fairer is the land we seek, A land without a tomb, An everlasting resting- place, A sure and quiet home.
Far sunnier than the hills of time Are its eternal hills;
Far fresher than the rills of earth Are its eternal rills.
No blight can fall upon its flowers, No darkness fill its air, It has a day for ever bright, For Christ its sun is there.
O Sun of love and peace, arise, Thy light upon us beam; For all this life is but a sleep, And all this world a dream.
161
OLD WORDS.
ἅπλα γὰρ ἐστι τῆς ἀλήθειας επη.ÆSCHYLUS.
WAS this earth sunnier in the days of old? Or was it but the eye that looked on it, That then was fresher, happier, in the youth And manhood of our race? Were springs more bright,
And summers lovelier, lighted up by suns -suns of a younger heaven than ours"
Long set ,L

162
OLD WORDS.
Was the air purer ere the heavy breath Of ages had gone up to poison it? Did the long gleam upon the ancient Nile Blaze in a richer radiance to the noon, When history's old father gazed upon it? Or was the sunshine on the hills of Greece Purer when Homer sang and Sappho wept? Or was the brow of Lebanon more fair With whiter snow- wreaths, when the kings of
Tyre
Builded their marble palaces beneath The mighty shadow of its haughty peaks?
Was this earth sunnier in the days of old? Or was the glory hovering o'er its hills, And wandering thro' the unfathomable stretch Of its old skies, of which men fondly tell, But the gay vision of a fresher eye,
When this old race was younger, and men's steps
Went with more buoyant freedom over earth? Or was it all a dream, a dream of youth, When dreams are happiest? Is it still a dream. Well- dreamt in these our days, when men look
out
With sad eye on the present, as if clouds, Unknown in other days, had settled down Upon our hills, to shut out sun and stars? I know not. Yet I love to wander back To this earth's younger days and earlier scenes, In which there seem to meet both age and youth. The blossom and the fruit, the joy of dawn, And the grave quiet of the solemn eve.

OLD WORDS.
163
Was the world wiser in the days of old, When in this land our fathers died for truth? Or is the wisdom of these ancient times A fable well- devised, to keep us lowly?
And are the words and thoughts of other days, The martyr- words and thoughts, and above all, The martyr- deeds of mighty men, whose hair Grew grey before its time, whose youthful face Grew early pale, and o'er whose thoughtful brow Age drew its furrows, prematurely deep ,Are these old words and thoughts and noble deeds,
But meant for them who heard and saw them
then,
But overdated now, unsuitable
For manhood and full age, like that to which We have attained in these our riper times? It cannot be so; truth is ever true,
In this age or the last, and error false, To- day as it was yesterday. No age
Can outgrow truth, or can afford to part With the tried wisdom of the past, with words That centuries have sifted, and on which Ages have set their seal, and handed down From venerable lips of solemn men,
Who learn'd their wisdom in a graver school, And in an age of keener, sorer conflict Than we have known in this gay holiday, When truth and error are but things of taste, Changelings of fashion, altering year by year. Guard, then, those ancient wells, those living springs,

164
OLD WORDS.
Of which our fathers drank and were refreshed. Guard, then, these ancient palms, beneath whose shade
Our fathers have sat down, and of whose fruit They ate, and went upon their way in peace. Part not with these old names, each one of which
Bears in its bosom precious histories,
The life- deeds and death- conflicts of the men From out whose loins we spring, the men of might
And wisdom, who have won such victories Of truth for us. These venerable names And words, preserve, as an inheritance For children's children to the latest age. Part not with these old names and words, each
one
Contains an everlasting history,
A great soul's history, which, like a pearl, Within its shell lies hid. Fling not away The shell because unpolished and uncouth, Lest in so doing thou shouldst fling away The gem whose lustre lies unseen within. It is not beauty, it is truth we seek, And it is truth that men would fling away, Because its outward garb is rude and homely. Yet truth is beauty, best of beauty here; And beauty is but hidden truth unfolded, Like blossoms from the rough brown buds of spring.
Part not with these old names,
See how
they shine

MACHPELA H.
In these old heavens, like stars, whose rays no
age
Can dim, nor boastful art of man supplant, By lights, the invention of his fruitful skill. They lighted up the darkness of the ways By which our fathers walked in joy to heaven; Not now less needful nor less glad their beams. Part not with these old names and words, each
165
one
Is as a seed, the womb of hidden life; And he that flings away a seed destroys The future harvest of a hundred fields. Part not with these old names; in each of them Our fathers wrapt up wisdom for their sons, And their sons' sons down to earth's latest day. What thoughts are clinging round them, thick as dew
Upon the fields of the fresh summer's grass, Mellow as fruit upon the autumn- trees!
Say not, our age is wiser; if it be, It is the wisdom which the past has given That makes it so; for in these names is written That wondrous wisdom that has made us wise
MACHPELAH.
ONLY a tomb, no more!
A rock- hewn sepulchre;And this, and this is all that's thine, Fair Canaan's mighty heir!

166
Only a tomb, no more!
A future resting- place, When God shall lay thee down, and bid All thy long wand'rings cease.
MACHPELAH.
This cave and field, no more,
Canst thou thy dwelling call;
That land of thine, plains, hills, woods, streams, The stranger has it all!
Thy altar and thy tent
Are all that thou hast here;
With these content, thou passest on, A homeless wanderer.
Thy life unrest and toil;
Thy course a pilgrimage;
Only in death thou goest down, To claim thy heritage;
A heritage which death
Shall seal to thee for aye, A resurrection- heritage
When all things pass away.
A home of endless peace,
Beyond these hills of strife; When these old rocks give up their dead, And death shall end in life.
A heritage of life,
Beyond this guarded gloom; A kingdom, not a field or cave; A city, not a tomb.

THE SHEPHERDS' PLAIN.
167
THE OLD JEW ON MOUNT MORIAH. HE stood bewildered on his lonely hearth, Sadness was written on his fixèd brow, For he had witnessed days of holy mirth Where silence dwells, and desolation now. The grief he felt he cared not to avow; Calmly he stood, yet sorrowfully too, The latest leaf upon the topmost bough Of the green olive that so lately threw Aloft its leafy arms when the glad spring was
new.
Friendless and homeless! How unlike the past! Once honoured scion of a noble stem; But now forsaken, desolate, the last Brightj ewel of a kingly diadem;
The last dim dew- drop of all those that gem The still lone valley when the sun- beams fall He trod his ancient hills, but found on them Nought but his shivered altar- shrines, for all Was tomb- like hushed, and dark as with a funeral pall.
THE SHEPHERDS' PLAIN.
" Dum servant oves invenerunt Agnum Dei."- JEROME.
BLESSED night, when first that plain Echoed with the joyful strain ," Peace has come to earth again."

168
THE SHEPHERDS' PLAIN.
Blessed hills, that heard the song Of the glorious angel- throng, Swelling all your slopes along.
Happy shepherds, on whose ear Fell the tidings glad and dear, " God to man is drawing near."
Happy shepherds, on whose eye Shone the glory from on high, Of the heavenly Majesty.
Happy, happy Bethlehem, Judah's least but brightest gem, Where the rod from Jesse's stem,
Scion of a princely race,
Sprung in heaven's own perfect grace, Yet in feeble lowliness.
This, the woman's promised seed Abram's mighty son indeed; Succourer of earth's great need.
This the victor in our war, This the glory seen afar, This the light of Jacob's star!
Happy Judah, rise and own Him, the heir of David's throne, David's Lord, and David's Son.
Babe of promise, born at last, After weary ages past, When our hopes were overcast.

THE SHEPHERDS' PLAIN.
Babe of weakness, can it be, That earth's last great victory Is to be achieved by thee?
Child of meekness, can it be, That the proud rebellious knee Of this world shall bend to thee?
Child of poverty, art thou
He to whom all heaven shall bow, And all earth shall pay the vow?
Can that feeble head alone Bear the weight of such a crown As belongs to David's Son?
Can these helpless hands of thine Wield a sceptre so divine, As belongs to Jesse's line?
Heir of pain and oil, whom none In this evil day will own, Art thou the Eternal One?
Thou, o'er whom the sword and rod Wave, in haste to drink thy blood, Art thou very Son of God?
Thus revealed to shepherds' eyes, Hidden from the great and wise, Entering earth in lowly guise ,Entering by this narrow door, Laid upon this rocky floor, Placed in yonder manger poor!
169

170
THE SHEPHERDS' PLAIN.
We adore thee as our King, And to thee our song we sing; Our best off'ring to thee bring. Guarded by the shepherds' rod, ' Mid their flock thy poor abode, Thus we own thee, Lamb of God. Lamb of God, thy lowly name ,King of kings, we thee proclaim; Heaven and earth shall hear its fame.
Bearer of our sins' sad load, Wielder of the iron rod, Judah's Lion, Lamb of God
-
Mighty King of righteousness, King of glory, king of peace, Never shall thy kingdom cease!
Thee, earth's heir and Lord we own;
Raise again its fallen throne, Take its everlasting crown.
Blessed Babe of Bethlehem, Owner of earth's diadem, Claim, and wear the radiant gem.
Scatter darkness with thy light, End the sorrows of our night, Speak the word, and all is bright.
Spoil the spoiler of the earth, Bring creation's second birth, Promised day of song and mirth.

COME, LORD,
" Tis thine Israel's voice that calls, Build again thy Salem's walls, Dwell within her holy halls.
" Tis thy Church's voice that cries, Rend these long unrended skies, Bridegroom of the Church, arise.
Take to thee thy power and reign, Purify this earth again; Cleanse it from each curse and stain.
Sun of peace, no longer stay, Let the shadows flee away, And the long night end in day.
Let the dayspring from on high, That arose in Judah's sky, Cover earth eternally.
Babe of Bethlethem, to thee, Infant of eternity,
Everlasting glory be!
COME, LORD.
" Senuit mundus."- AUGUSTINE.
COME, Lord, and tarry not;
Bring the long- looked- for day; Oh why these years of waiting here, These ages of delay?
171

172
COME, LORD.
Come, for thy saints still wait; Daily ascends their sigh; The Spirit and the Bride say, Come;Dost thou not hear the cry?
Come for creation groans,
Impatient of thy stay,
Worn out with these long years of ill, These ages of delay.
Come, for thy Israel pines,
An exile from thy fold; Oh call to mind thy faithful word, And bless them as of old.
Come, for thy foes are strong; With taunting lip they say, " Where is the promised Advent now, And where the dreaded day?
Come, for the good are few;
They lift the voice in vain; Faith waxes fainter on the earth, And love is on the wane.
Come, for the truth is weak, And error pours abroad Its subtle poison o'er the earth ,An earth that hates her God.
Come, for love waxes cold,
Its steps are faint and slow; Faith now is lost in unbelief, Hope's lamp burns dim and low.

COME, LORD.
Come, for the grave is full,
Earth's tombs no more can hold, The sated sepulchres rebel,
And groans the heaving mould.
Come, for the corn is ripe,
Put in thy sickle now, Reap the great harvest of the earth; Sower and reaper thou!
Come, in thy glorious might, Come with the iron rod, Scattering thy foes before thy face, Most mighty Son of God.
Come, spoil the strong man's house, Bind him and cast him hence, Shew thyself stronger than the strong, Thyself Omnipotence.
Come, and make all things new, Build up this ruined earth, Restore our faded Paradise, Creation's second birth.
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Come and begin thy reign Of everlasting peace, Come, take the kingdom to thyself, Great King of righteousness.

174
THY WAY, NOT MINE.
THY way, not mine, O Lord, However dark it be! Lead me by thine own hand, Choose out the path for me.
Smooth let it be or rough, It will be still the best, Winding or straight, it leads Right onward to thy rest.
I dare not choose my lot: I would not, if I might; Choose thou for me, my God, So shall I walk aright.
The kingdom that I seek
Is thine; so let the way, That leads to it be thine,
Else I must surely stray.
Take thou my cup, and it With joy or sorrow fill, As best to thee may seem; Choose thou my good and ill
Choose thou for me my friend My sickness or my health, Choose thou my cares for me, My poverty or wealth.

Not mine, not mine the choice, In things or great or small; Be thou my guide, my strength, My wisdom and my all.
ALLELUIA.
ALLELUIA, Alleluia!
The battle now is done,
ALLELUIA.
( FROM THE LATIN.)
The victory is won; Let us joy and sing Alleluia!
Alleluia, Alleluia!
Alleluia!
Suffering death's cruel doom, Jesus hath hell o'ercome; Let us praise and shout
Alleluia, Alleluia!
Alleluia!
He rose the third day, bright In heavenly love and light; Let us cry and chant
Alleluia, Alleluia!
Alleluia!
Closed are the gates below, Heaven's halls are open now; Let us joy and sing
175

176
LIVE.
Alleluia, Alleluia!
Jesus, by thy wounds, save Us from the endless grave, That we may live and sing
Alleluia!*
I give the first stanza of the above hymn as& specimen-
Alleluia, Alleluia;
Finita jam sunt prælia, Est parta jam victoria, Gaudeamus et canamus, Alleluia;
LIVE.
MAKE haste, 0 man, to live, For thou so soon must die; Time hurries past thee like the breeze: How swift its moments fly.
Make haste, 0 man, to live!
To breathe, and wake and sleep, To smile, to sigh, to grieve; To move in idleness through earth, This, this is not to live!
Make haste, 0 man, to live!
Make haste, 0 man, to do
Whatever must be done;
Thou hast no time to lose in sloth,
Thy day will soon be gone.
Make haste, 0 man, to live!

THE MARTYR'S GRAVE.
Up then with speed, and work; Fling ease and self away; This is no time for thee to sleep, Up, watch and work and pray!
Make haste, 0 man, to live!
The useful, not the great,
The thing that never dies; The silent toil that is not lost, Set these before thine eyes.
Make haste, 0 man, to live!
The seed, whose leaf and flower, Tho' poor in human sight, Bring forth at last the eternal fruit, Sow thou both day and night.
Make haste, 0 man, to live!
Make haste, 0 man, to live, Thy time is almost o'er; Oh sleep not, dream not, but arise, The Judge is at the door.
Make haste, 0 man, to live!
THE MARTYR'S GRAVE.
THE moss is green upon the stone; The stone lies heavy on the mould; The spot is dreary, sad, and lone; The forest air is cold.
M
177

178
The sky above is wan and bleak;
The ground beneath is brown and bare; No living voice intrudes to break The tranquil silence there.
THE MARTYR'S GRAVE.
Another breeze among the boughs, And then another leafy shower Comes rustling down; the sadness grows More and more sad each hour.
The shadow of the drifting cloud Falls chilly on these gloomy firs, Deepening the darkness of the wood; Hardly a leaflet stirs.
Quick- twinkling thro' the leafy screen, November stray- gleams go and come; Half- hidden by the shade, is seen
The old and well- known tomb.
Here sleeps the martyr's weary head; Here softly moulders holy dust, With the wild wood- moss overspread, Resting in silent trust.
No summer flowers breathe sweetness here, It is a lone forsaken spot, Round lie the leaves of autumn sere, The leaf that changes not.
Far from man's voice of love or strife, ' Tis fit that here his grave should be, In death an outcast as in life, Unnamed in history.

179
Young hopes, young friendships, joys of earth, Had passed him by like summer- dreams, Solemn his life had been from birth, Like march of mountain streams.
ALL WELL.
Changeful his lot, like yon vexed sky, When moorland breezes wildly blow, His weary soul now rests on high, His body sleeps below.
Rest, weary dust, lie here an hour; Ere long, like blossom from the sod, Thou shalt come forth a glorious flower, Fit for the eye of God.
ALL WELL.
No seas again shall sever; No desert intervene; No deep, sad- flowing river Shall roll its tide between.
No bleak cliffs upward towering, Shall bound our eager sight; No tempest darkly lowering, Shall wrap us in its night. Love, and unsevered union, Of soul with those we love, Nearness and glad communion Shall be our joy above.

180
LINKS.
No dread of wasting sickness, No thought of ache or pain, No fretting hours of weakness, Shall mar our peace again.
No death our homes o'ershading, Shall e'er our harps unstring, For all is life unfading, In presence of our King.
LINKS.
ARE there not voices strangely sweet, And tones of music strangely dear? So lovingly the soul they greet,
So kindly steal they on the ear.
We know not why they strike so deep, We cannot tell the secret spring Within us, which they wake from sleep,
Nor how such thoughts their notes can bring
We ask not why nor how they thrill
So keenly through the inmost soul; And why, when ceased, we listen still, As though they yet upon us stole. We feel the sweetness of the voice; We love the richness of the tone; it makes us sorrow or rejoice, Compelling us its power to own

LINKS.
181
Are there not words, too, strangely sweet, Thoughts, musings, memories, strangely dear?
So lovingly the soul they greet,
So gently steal they on the ear! Common the words may be and weak, The passing stranger owns them not; To other ears in vain they speak,
Unknown, unrelished, or forgot. Rich in old thoughts, these words appear, Part of our being's mighty whole; Linked with our life's strange story here, Knit to each feeling of our soul. Linked with the scenes of days gone past, With all life's earnest hopes and fears, Linked with the smiles that did not last, The joys and griefs of faded years. Linked with old dreams once dreamt in youth, When dreams were gladder, truer things, When each night's vision of bright truth, Lent to each buoyant day its wings, Linked with the whisper of the trees,
When summer- eves were fair and still; Set to the music of the breeze,
Or murmur of the twilight rill.
Linked with some scene of sacred calm, Of holy places, holy days; Linked with the prayer, the hymn, the psalm, The multitude's glad voice of praise.

182
Linked with the names of holy men, Martyr, or saint, or brother dear; Some parted, ne'er to meet again,
Some still our fellow- pilgrims here. Linked with that Name of names, the name Of Him who bought us with his blood Who bore for us the wrath and shame, The Virgin's Son, the Christ of God.
THE PRAYER.
THE PRAYER.
FETCH me the lightning from yon frowning cloud,
With fiery force to break or melt this heart, A heart all earthly, foolish, vain, and proud: In unbelief and hate that bids its God depart.
Fetch me a beam from yon clear star of night; Or yet a warmer ray from day's bright sun, To kindle into heat, and glow, and light, This soul of gloom and death, whose day seems scarce begun.
Fetch me a drop from yon translucent lake, Or, farther up, from yon pure mountain- well, These lips to cool, this feverish thirst to slake, This weary frame to freshen, these fierce fires to quell.

THE RESURRECTION OF THE JUST.
183
O thou my God, my being's health and source, Better than life, brighter than noon to me, Stretch out thy loving hand, with gentle force, Bend this still- struggling will, and draw it
after Thee.
Return to me, my oft- forgotten God,
My spirit's true tho' long- forsaken rest; Undo these bars, re- enter thine abode,
In Thee and in Thy love alone would I be blest.
Re- mould this inner man in every part,
Re- knit these broken ties, resume thy sway; Take, as Thy throne and altar, this poor heart; Oh teach me how to love, oh help me te obey!
THE RESURRECTION OF THE JUST.
AUTUMN has come at last; and nature now Binds up her summer tresses and disrobes, That she may lay herself in silence down Upon her winter's couch, and there by sleep Repair her worn- out energies, and draw New life into her veins, that when the sun Flames out again, and the long- silent voice Of happy birds and happier children wakes Spring's first glad matin song, she may arise, Girt with new strength and with fresh beauty clothed.

184
THE CITY.
Thus comes life's autumn, and the happy
spirit,
Calmly disrobing, lays its garments down, Upon the leaf- strewn soil of this old earth, Committing them, in quiet confidence, To the safe keeping of the trusty tomb, Till death's brief winter shall have passed away. Then these old robes, with which she walked the earth,
Purged from each stain of vile mortality, By the all- cleansing winter of the grave, And blanch'd to glorious whiteness by its gloom, Shall shine in fairer, fresher purity,
When earth's long- promised spring at last arrives,
And the unsetting sun smiles down in peace O'er a new Paradise of love and joy.
THE CITY.
THOU art no child of the city!
Hadst thou known it as I have done, Thou would'st not have smiled with pity, As if joy were with thee alone;
With thee the unfetter'd ranger
Of the forest and moorland free: As if gloom and toil and danger Could alone in a city be.

THE CITY.
The smoke, the din, and the bustle Of the city, I know them well, And I know the gentle rustle
Of the leaves in your breezy dell.
Day's hurry and evening's riot
In the city, I know them all; I know too the loving quiet
Of your glen at the day's sweet fall.
185
I know too each grim old alley,
With the blanch'd ray flickering through, I know each sweep of your valley,
Where the rosy light dies in dew. I know too the stifling sadness
Of the summer- noon's sultry street; I've breathed the air of your gladness, Where the streams and the breezes meet. I know the dun haunts of fever, Where the blossoms of youth decay; I know where your free broad river Sweeps disease on its breast away. Yet despite your earnest pity, And despite its own smoke and din, I cling to yon crowded city,
Though I shrink from its woe and sin, For I know its boundless measure,
Of the true, and the good, and fair; Its vast and far- gathered treasure,
All the wealth of soul that is there.

186
THE CITY.
You may smile, or sneer, or pity,
You may fancy it weak and strange; My eye to yon smoky city,
Still returns from its widest range.
My heart, in its inmost beatings, Ever lingers around its homes; My soul wakes up in its greetings, To the gleam of its spires and domes.
You call it life's weary common, At the best but an idle fair, The market of man and woman ,But the choice of the race are there.
The wonders of life and gladness,
All the wonders of hope and fear; The wonders of death and sadness,
All the wonders of time are there.
In your lone lake's still face yonder, By your rivulet's bursting glee, Deep truth I may read and ponder, Of the earth and its mystery,
There seems, in yon city's motion, Yet a mightier truth for me; " Tis the sound of life's great ocean, " Tis the tides of the human sea.
O'er the fields of earth lie scattered, Noble fruitage and blossoms rare; Yon city the store has gathered,
And the garner of hearts is there.

THE CITY.
You may prize the lonely lustre
Of your pearl or emerald green; What is that to the gorgeous cluster On the brow of the crowned Queen?
And the home to which I'm hasting, Is not in some silent glen;
The place where my hopes are resting, Is a city of living men.
187
The crowds are there; but the sadness Is fled, with the toil and pain; Nought is heard but the song of gladness. " Tis the city of holy men.
And wilt thou my sad fate pity,
Wilt thou grieve o'er my heavy doom, When within that resplendent city, I shall find my glorious home?

INDEX TO THE FIRST LINES.
A few more years shall roll, Alleluia, alleluia,
A little flock; So calls He thee,
All that I was,-my sin, my guilt,
And whence this weariness,.
Are there not voices strangely sweet,
Autumn has come at last,
Be brave, my brother,
Beyond the smiling and the weeping,
Blessed be God, our God,
Blessed night, when first that plain,
Brethren, arise,
Calm me, my God, and keep me calm,.
Cease, my soul, thy strayings,
Cling to the Crucified,.
Come, Lord, and tarry not,
Days come and go,
Desert lilies, desert lilies,
Do they still linger,-these slow- treading ages?.
Dust receive thy kindred,
.
.
●
●
●
Everlasting praises,
Far down the ages now,
Far from his breezy home of cliff and billow,
●
●
Father, thy Son hath died,
Fetch me the lightning from yon frowning cloud,
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INDEX.
Fondly, fondly returneth the daylight,
For thee we long and pray,
.
Go labour on; spend, and be spent,
Go up, go up, my heart,
•
Happy sons of Israel,
Ha! yon burst of crystal splendour,
He has come! the Christ of God,. He stood bewildered on his lonely hearth, Here, O my Lord, I see thee face to face, How oft the morn has cheated us, Holy Father! hear my cry,.
I am wandering down life's shady path, I close my heavy eye,
. 5.
I heard the voice of Jesus say,
I lay my sins on Jesus,
I love yon pale blue sky,
I miss the dear paternal dwelling,
I see the crowd in Pilate's hall,
I thought upon my sins, and I was sad,
I walk as one who knows that he is treading,
I was a wand'ring sheep,
I weep, but do not yield,
In the beginning was the Word,
It is the Father's voice that cries,
Jesus, while this rough desert- soil,
●
.
●
.
Lay down thy burden here,
" Let there be light," Jehovah said,
Lie down, frail body, here,
Light of the better morning,
Look at this starbeam! From its place of birth,
Love strong as death, nay, stronger,
Make haste, 0 man, to live,
Nay,' tis not what we fancied it,
No night descend on thee,
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INDEX.
No seas again shall sever,
No shadows yonder,
Not long, not long,
Not with the light and vain,.
O dead in sin,.
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The morning, the bright and the beautiful morning, 115
The moss is green upon the stone,
177
The Son of God in mighty love,
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●
O safe at home,
Of old they sung the song of liberty,
One flower may fill another's place,
Only a tomb, no more,.
Oppress'd with noon- day's scorching heat, Past all pain for ever,
Peace! Earth's last battle has been won,
Restore to me the freshness of my youth, Shall this life of mine be wasted?
Softly the winds were fanning this fresh cheek, Sower divine,.
Spirit of everlasting grace,
Summer Ocean, idly washing,
Sunlight has vanished,
Surely, yon heaven, where angels see God's face,
That clime is not like this dull clime of ours,
That rising storm! It has awakened me, The Church has waited long,
The flowers of Spring have come and gone,
The light is ever silent,.
The loving morn is springing,
The star is not extinguished when it sets,
The storm has broken,
●
There are no dreams beyond the tomb, There is a Morning- star, my soul, There is a star in yonder sky,
•
•
191
●

INDEX
192
There was gladness in Zion, her standard was flying, 120
28
These are the crowns that we shall wear,
39
132
184
This is not my place of resting,
Thou art in heaven, and I am still on earth,
Thou art no child of the city,
Thy way, not mine, O Lord,. Thy works, not mine, O Christ, Till the day dawn ,.
Time's sun is fast setting,
.
' Tis not for man to trifle,
' Tis first the true and then the beautiful,
' Tis Autumn now,.
' Tis the summons to battle,
' Tis thus they press the hand and part,
To dream a troubled dream,.
Where the wave murmurs not,
Yes, for me, for me he careth,
.
Trust not these seas again,
Up and away, like the dew of the morning, Was this earth sunnier in the days of old? What a world with all its sorrows, Where the faded flower shall freshen,
.
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EDINBURGH: PRINTED BY JOHN GREIG AND SOV.
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