POEMS OF DAWN
"A bending staff I would not break,
A feeble faith I would not shake,
Nor even rudely pluck away
The error which some truth may stay,
Whose sudden loss might leave without
A shield against the shafts of doubt."
1915
DEDICATED
to
The Household of Faith
"Brethren, giving all diligence, add to your faith
virtue (steadfastness); and to virtue knowledge;
and to knowledge temperance (self-control);
and to temperance patience; and to
patience godliness; and to godliness
brotherly kindness; and
to brotherly kindness
LOVE:
For if these things
be in you and abound,
they shall make you that you
shall neither be barren nor unfruitful in the
knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ."--2 Pet. 1:5-8.
POEMS OF DAWN.
GREAT TRUTHS.
GREAT truths are dearly bought. The common truth,
Such as men give and take from day to day,
Comes in the common walk of easy life,
Blown by the careless wind across our way.
Great truths are dearly won; not found by chance,
Nor wafted on the breath of summer dream;
But grasped in the great struggle of the soul,
Hard buffeting with adverse wind and stream.
Sometimes, 'mid conflict, turmoil, fear and grief,
When the strong hand of God, put forth in might,
Ploughs up the subsoil of the stagnant heart,
It brings some buried truth-seeds to the light.
Not in the general mart, 'mid corn and wine;
Not in the merchandise of gold and gems;
Not in the world's gay hall of midnight mirth,
Nor 'mid the blaze of regal diadems;
Not in the general clash of human creeds,
Nor in the merchandise 'twixt church and world,
Is truth's fair treasure found, 'mongst tares and weeds;
Nor her fair banner in their midst unfurled.
Truth springs like harvest from the well-ploughed fields,
Rewarding patient toil, and faith, and zeal.
To those thus seeking her, she ever yields
Her richest treasures for their lasting weal.
THE WORD OF TRUTH
THE Word of Truth is like a stained-glass window rare,
We stand outside and gaze, but see no beauty there,
No fair design, naught but confusion we behold;
'Tis only from within the glory will unfold,
And he who would drink in the rapture of the view
Must climb the winding stair, the portal enter through.
The sacred door of Truth's cathedral is most low,
And all who fain would enter there the knee must bow
In deep humility. But once inside, the light
Of day streams through and makes each color heavenly bright,
The Master's great design we see, our hands we raise
In reverent ecstasy of wonder, love and praise!
PRESS ON.
BUILD thee more stately mansions, O my soul,
As the swift seasons roll!
Leave thy low vaulted past!
Let each new temple, nobler than the last,
Shut thee from heaven with a dome more vast,
Till thou at length art free,
Leaving thine outgrown shell by life's unresting sea.
THE WORD OF GOD.
OH, wonderful, wonderful Word of the Lord!
True wisdom its pages unfold;
And though we may read them a thousand times o'er,
They never, no never, grow old!
Each line hath a pleasure, each promise a pearl,
That all if they will may secure;
And we know that when time and the world pass away,
God's Word shall forever endure.
Oh, wonderful, wonderful Word of the Lord!
The lamp that our Father above
So kindly hath lighted to teach us the way
That leads to the arms of His love!
Its warnings, its counsels, are faithful and just;
Its judgments are perfect and pure;
And we know that when time and the world pass away,
God's Word shall forever endure.
Oh, wonderful, wonderful Word of the Lord!
Our only salvation is there;
It carries conviction down deep in the heart,
And shows us ourselves as we are.
It tells of a Savior, and points to the cross,
Where pardon we now may secure;
And we know that when time and the world pass away
God's Word shall forever endure.
HOW READEST THOU?
Some read it with design to learn to read,
But to the subject pay but little heed;
Some read it as their duty once a week,
But no instruction from the Bible seek;
Whilst others read it without common care,
With no regard to how they read or where.
Some read it as a history, to know
How the people lived three thousand years ago.
Some read to bring unto themselves repute,
By showing others how they can dispute;
Whilst others read because their neighbors do,
To see how long 'twill take to read it through.
Some read it for the wonders that are there,
How David killed a lion and a bear;
Whilst others read--or rather in it look--
Because, perhaps, they have no other book.
Some read the blessed Book--they don't know why,
It somehow happens in the way to lie;
Whilst others read it with uncommon care,
But all to find some contradictions there.
One reads with father's specs upon his head,
And sees the thing just as his father did;
Another reads through Campbell or through Scott,
And thinks it means exactly what they thought.
Some read to prove a pre-adopted creed,
Thus understand but little what they read;
And every passage in the Book they bend
To make it suit that all-important end.
Some people read, as I have often thought,
To teach the Book, instead of to be taught.
THE OATH-CLAD PROMISE--THE GOSPEL
GEN. 22:16, 18. GAL. 3:8, 16, 29.
Men are saved by their faith in the Crucified One,
--Rom. 10:9; Acts 16:31; Heb. 11:6.
When His love and His goodness to them are made known.
--Rom. 10:13-15; 1 Cor. 1:21; John 3:18; 1 Tim. 2:3-6.
Saving faith comes by hearing the life-giving Word,
--Rom. 10:17; Phil. 2:16.
And the mercy of God through the Savior conferred.
--2 Cor. 5:19; 1 Tim. 2:3-6.
All who will may be saved by obedient faith,
--John 3:18; Rev. 22:14-17.
And may gain life unending through Christ, by His death.
--Mark 10:30.
For the Gospel salvation to all is made free:
--Titus 2:11.
As they heed its instruction their judgment will be.
--Rom. 2:16; John 3:18.
Endless life is for those who the Gospel accept,
--John 3:16; Mark 10:30; Rom. 6:23.
But death is the portion of those who reject.
--Acts 3:23; Heb. 10:26,27; Rom. 6:23.
For there's no other way that's revealed by the Lord
--Acts 4:12; John 14:6.
To redeem fallen man but through Christ and His Word.
--Titus 2:13,14; Gal. 3:13.
"The heavens are the Lord's, but the earth He hath given
--Psa. 115:16; Isa. 45:18.
To the children of men," as their home and their heaven.
--Psa. 37:29; Matt. 6:10.
Wicked rulers and nations thus far have borne sway
--Dan. 2; 2 Tim. 3:13; Isa. 60:2.
And their reign has led down from the gold to the clay.
--Dan. 2:31,44.
But the Age for the world's promised blessing is near,
--Gen. 12:3; Gen. 22:18; Psa. 72:17; Rev. 15:4.
When the true Light that lighteth all men shall appear.
--John 1:4,7,9; John 8:12; Dan. 2:44.
God has been taking out from the world for His name
--Acts 15:14; Rev. 5:9,10.
A faithful, tried people with Jesus to reign.
--2 Tim. 2:12; Rev. 7:14; Mark 10:30.
Those sleeping in Christ from the dead will arise,
--1 Cor. 15:23,52.
And with "those who remain" meet the Lord of the skies,
--1 Thess. 4:16,17; Mark 13:27.
Who will come to the earth with His chosen again,
--Zech. 14:4,5; 1 Thess. 3:13; Jude 14.
And over the nations commence His just reign.
--Matt. 25:31,32; Luke 1:32,33; Isa. 2:3; Isa. 9:6,7.
As a Body perfected the "seed" will then bless
--1 Cor. 12:27; Col. 1:18; Gen. 22:18.
All the peoples of earth with the blessings of peace.
--Gal. 3:8,16,29; Luke 2:10,14.
These elect ones with Christ shall forever abide,
--1 Thess. 4:17.
As His loved and honored and glorified Bride.
--John 3:29; Matt. 25:1; Rom. 7:17,18.
All the powers of earth to an end shall be brought,
--Psa. 10; Rev. 2:26,27; Jer. 25:29,33.
And their rule and authority soon come to naught.
--1 Cor. 15:24; Phi. 2:10.
All their glory and pride like the chaff pass away,
--Dan. 2:35.
And Christ and His chosen in mercy bear sway.
--Dan. 7:27; Psa. 22:27,28; Luke 22:29,30; Luke 19:17.
When He speaks to the earth she uncovers her slain,
--Isa. 26:19,21; Hosea 13:14.
And they all hear His voice and to life rise again.
--John 5:28; 1 Cor. 15:22.
He must reign till all things unto Him are subdued,
--1 Cor. 15:25,28; 2 Cor. 5:19.
And the face of the earth from the curse is renewed.
--Rev. 22:3; Rev. 21:5.
These times of refreshing and blessing are near,
--Acts 3:19,21; Matt. 24:33.
Christ's life-giving power will shortly appear.
--Col. 3:3,4; Mark 10:30; John 11:25; Matt. 28:18.
He will banish the curse and perfection restore,
--Psa. 104:30; Rev. 22:3.
And the earth fill with gladness and beauty once more.
--Isa. 35; Isa. 55:10,13.
Then sorrow and death and corruption will cease,
--Rev. 21:4.
And the world shall be clothed in the garments of peace.
--Zech. 9:10; Isa. 2:4.
When He rules in the earth the glad tidings are heard,
--Psa. 22:28; Isa. 45:23; Acts 15:16,17; 1 Tim. 2:6.
And the world shall remember and turn to the Lord.
--Psa. 22:27.
All nations shall worship the Lord then with fear,
--Psa. 86:9; Rev. 15:4; Psa. 67:4.
And all men join in praise when His words they shall hear.
--Rev. 5:13; Psa. 102:15.
When the Spirit of grace rests on Israel again,
--Rom. 11:26; Jer. 32:40.
And they look upon Him whom in wrath they had slain,
--Zech. 12:10; Acts 2:23,36.
They will bitterly mourn and acknowledge their sin,
--Ezek. 36:31; Ezek. 16:61,63.
And gladly accept Him, their long-looked-for King.
--Isa. 25:9; Matt. 23:39; Luke 3:15.
Then the promised possession the Lord will restore,
--Ezek. 36:24; Ezek. 37:21; Jer. 32:37.
And their numerous sins He'll remember no more.
--Jer. 31:33,34; Ezek. 36:33; Rom. 11:27.
Jerusalem will, with the Lord as its Light,
--Acts 15:15,16; Zech. 6:12,13; Isa. 40:10-20; Isa. 33:20.
Be the glory of earth and its joy and delight.
--Isa. 52:9,10; Isa. 65:18,19; Psa. 48:2.
From this City most glorious life's waters shall flow,
--Zech. 14:8; Joel 3:18; Rev. 22:1.
And the life-giving trees on its borders shall grow.
--Ezek. 47:1,12; Rev. 22:1,2; Rev.2:7.
As the curse is removed this blest City of love
--Rev. 22:3; Rev. 20:9.
Is enlarged and made one with the City above.
--Rev. 21:10; Dan. 2:35,44.
All honor and glory to God shall be given,
--Num. 14:21; Rev. 5:12.
And His will on the earth will be done as in heaven.
--Matt. 6:10.
THE TRUE CHURCH.
I.
ONE Sabbath morn I roamed astray,
And asked a Pilgrim for the way:
"O, tell me, whither shall I search,
That I may find the one true Church?"
He answered, "Search the world around;
The one true Church is never found.
Yon ivy on the abbey wall
Makes fair the falsest Church of all."
But, fearing he had told me wrong,
I cried, "Behold the entering throng!"
He answered, "If a Church be true,
It hath not many, but a few!"
Around a font the people pressed,
And crossed themselves on brow and breast.
"A cross so light to bear," he cried,
"Is not of Christ, the Crucified!
Each forehead, frowning, sheds it off:
Christ's cross abides through scowl and scoff!"
We entered at the open door,
And saw men kneeling on the floor;
Faint candle, by the daylight dimmed,
As if by foolish virgins trimmed;
Fair statues of the saints, as white
As now their robes are, in God's sight;
Stained windows, casting down a beam,
Like Jacob's ladder in the dream.
The Pilgrim gazed from nave to roof,
And, frowning, uttered this reproof:
"Alas! who is it that understands
God's Temple is not made with hands?"
II.
We walked in ferns so wet with dew
They plashed our garments trailing through,
And came upon a church whose dome
Upheld a cross, but not for Rome.
We brushed a cobweb from a pane,
And watched the service in the fane.
"Do prayers," he asked, "the more avail,
If offered at an altar rail?
Does water sprinkled from a bowl,
Wash any sin from any soul?
Do tongues that taste the bread and wine
Speak truer after such a sign?"
Just then, upon a maple spray,
Two orioles perched, and piped a lay,
Until the gold beneath their throats
Shook molten in their mellow notes.
Resounding from the church, a psalm
Rolled, quivering, through the outer calm.
"Both choirs," said I, "are in accord,
For both give praises to the Lord."
"The birds," he answered, "chant a song
Without a note of sin or wrong:
The church's anthem is a strain
Of human guilt and mortal pain."
The orioles and the organ ceased,
And in the pulpit rose the priest.
The Pilgrim whispered in my ear,
"It profits not to tarry here."
"He speaks no error," answered I,
"He teaches that the living die;
The dead arise; and both are true;
Both wholesome doctrines; neither new."
The Pilgrim said, "He strikes a blow
At wrongs that perished long ago;
But covers with a shielding phrase
The living sins of present days."
We turned away among the tombs--
A tangled place of briers and blooms.
I spelled the legends on the stones:
Beneath reposed the martyrs' bones,
The bodies which the rack once brake
In witness for the dear Lord's sake,
The ashes gathered from the pyres
Of saints whose zeal our soul inspires.
The Pilgrim murmured as we passed,
"So gained they all the crown at last.
Men lose it now through looking back,
To find it at the stake, the rack;
The rack and stake are old with grime;
God's touchstone is the living time!"
III.
We passed where poplars, gaunt and tall,
Let twice their length of shadow fall.
Then rose a meeting-house in view,
Of bleached and weather-beaten hue.
Men, plain of garb and pure of heart,
Divided church and world apart.
Nor did they vex the silent air
With any sound of hymn or prayer.
God's finger to their lips they pressed,
Till each man kissed it and was blessed.
I asked, "Is this the true Church, then?"
He answered, "Nay, a sect of men:
And sects that shut their doors in pride
Shut God and half His saints outside.
The gates of Heaven, the Scriptures say,
Stand open wide, by night and day.
So, then, to enter, is there need
To carry key of church or creed?"
IV.
Still following where the highway led,
Till elms made arches overhead,
We saw a spire and weathercock,
And snow-white church upon a rock--
A rock, where centuries before,
Came sea-tossed pilgrims to the shore.
My sandals straightway I unbound,
Because the place was holy ground.
I cried, "One church at last I find,
That fetters not the human mind."
"This church," said he, "is like the rest;
For all are good, but none is best."
V.
Then far from every church we strayed--
Save Nature's pillared aisles of shade.
The squirrels ran to see us pass,
And God's sweet breath was on the grass.
I challenged all the creeds, and sought
What truth, or lie, or both, they taught.
I asked, "Had Augustine a fault?"
The Pilgrim gazed at heaven's high vault,
And answered, "Can a mortal eye
Contain the sphere of all the sky?"
I said, "The circle is too wide."
"God's truth is wider!" he replied.
"Though Augustine was on his knee,
He saw how little he could see;
Though Luther sought with burning heart,
He caught the glory but in part;
Though Calvin opened wide his soul,
He comprehended not the whole.
Not Luther, Calvin, Augustine,
Saw visions such as I have seen."
While yet he spake, a rapture stole
Through all my still inquiring soul.
I looked upon His holy brow,
Entreating, "Tell me, who art THOU?"
But such a splendor filled the place,
I knew it was the Lord's own face!
I was a sinner, and afraid!
I knelt in dust, and thus I prayed:
"O Christ, the Lord! end Thou my search,
And lead me to the one true Church."
He spake as never man may speak--
"The one true Church thou shalt not seek,
Seek thou, forevermore, instead,
To find the one true Christ, its Head!"
The Lord then vanished from my sight,
And left me standing in the light.
THE NOMINAL CHURCH.
THE Church and the World walked far apart
On the changing shores of time;
The World was singing a giddy song,
And the Church a hymn sublime.
"Come, give me your hand," said the merry World,
"And walk with me this way;"
But the good Church hid her snowy hands
And solemnly answered, "Nay,
I will not give you my hand at all,
And I will not walk with you;
Your way is the way that leads to death;
To my Lord I must be true."
"Nay, walk with me but a little space,"
Said the World, with a kindly air,
"The road I walk is a pleasant road,
And the sun shines always there;
Your path is thorny and rough and rude,
But mine is broad and plain;
My way is paved with flowers and dews,
And yours with tears and pain;
The sky to me is always blue,
No want, no toil I know;
The sky above you is always dark,
Your lot is a lot of woe;
The way you walk is a narrow way,
But mine is amply wide;
There's room enough for you and me
To travel side by side."
Half shyly the Church approached the World
And gave him her hand of snow;
And the old World clasped it and walked along,
Saying in accents low,
"Your dress is too simple to please my taste,
I will give you pearls to wear,
Rich velvets and silks for your graceful form,
And diamonds to deck your hair."
The Church looked down at her plain white robes
And then at the dazzling World,
And blushed as she saw his handsome lip
With a smile contemptuous curled.
"I will change my dress for a costlier one,"
Said the Church with a smile of grace;
Then her pure, white garments drifted away,
And the World gave, in their place,
Beautiful satins and shining silks,
Roses and gems and pearls;
While over her forehead her bright hair fell
Crimped in a thousand curls.
"Your house is too plain," said the proud old World,
"I'll build you one like mine;
Carpets of Brussels and curtains of lace,
And furniture ever so fine."
So he built her a costly and beautiful house,
Most splendid it was to behold;
Her sons and her beautiful daughters dwelt there,
Gleaming in purple and gold;
Rich fairs and shows in the halls were held,
And the World and his children were there;
Laughter and music and feasting were heard
In the place that was meant for prayer.
There were cushioned pews for the rich and gay,
To sit in their pomp and pride;
While the poor, who were clad in shabby array,
But seldom came inside.
"You give too much to the poor," said the World,
"Far more than you ought to do;
If they are in need of shelter and food,
Why need it trouble you?
Go, take your money, and buy rich robes,
Buy horses and carriages fine,
Buy pearls and jewels and dainty food,
Buy the rarest and costliest wine;
My children dote on all these things,
And if you their love would win,
You must do as they do, and walk in the ways
That they are walking in."
Then the Church held fast the strings of her purse,
And modestly lowered her head,
And simpered, "No doubt you are right, sir;
Henceforth I will do as you've said."
Then the sons of the World and the sons of the Church
Walked closely, hand and heart,
And only the Master, who knoweth all,
Could tell the two apart.
Then the Church sat down at her ease and said,
"I am rich and my goods are increased;
I have need of nothing, nor aught to do,
But to laugh, and dance, and feast."
The sly World heard, and he laughed in his sleeve,
And mockingly said aside,
"The Church is fallen, the beautiful Church,
And her shame is her boast and pride."
The angel drew near to the mercy-seat,
And whispered in sighs her name,
Then the loud anthems of rapture were hushed,
And heads were covered with shame.
And a voice was heard at last by the Church
From Him who sat on the Throne,
"I know thy works, and how thou hast said,
'I am rich'; and hast not known
That thou art naked, poor and blind,
And wretched before My face;
Therefore, from My presence, I cast thee out,
And blot thy name from its place."
----------
IT is not the deed we do,
Though the deed be ever so fair,
But the love that the dear Lord looketh for,
Hidden with holy care
In the heart of the deed so fair.
The love is the priceless thing,
The treasure our treasure must hold;
Or ever the Lord will take the gift,
Or tell the worth of the gold
By the love that cannot be told.
TELL ME ABOUT THE MASTER.
TELL me about the Master!
I am weary and worn tonight;
The day lies behind me in shadow,
And only the evening is light!
Light with a radiant glory
That lingers about the west.
My poor heart is weary, aweary,
And longs, like a child, for rest.
Tell me about the Master!
Of the hills He in loneliness trod,
When the tears and blood of His anguish,
Dropped down on Judea's sod.
For to me life's seventy mile-stones
But a sorrowful journey mark;
Rough lies the hill country before me,
The mountains behind me are dark.
Tell me about the Master!
Of the wrongs He freely forgave;
Of His love and tender compassion,
Of His love that is mighty to save;
For my heart is aweary, aweary,
Of the woes and temptations of life,
Of the error that stalks in the noonday,
Of falsehood and malice and strife.
Yet I know that whatever of sorrow
Or pain or temptation befall,
The infinite Master hath suffered,
And knoweth and pitieth all.
So tell me the sweet old story,
That falls on each wound like a balm,
And my heart that is bruised and broken
Shall grow patient and strong and calm.
OUR MASTER
NO fable old, nor mythic lore,
Nor dream of bards and seers,
No dead fact stranded on the shore
Of the oblivious years;--
But warm, sweet, tender, even yet
A present help is He,
And faith hath still its Olivet,
And love its Galilee.
The healing of His seamless dress
Is by our beds of pain;
We touch Him in life's throng and press,
And we are whole again.
O Lord and Savior of us all!
O blessed Christ Divine!
We own Thy sway, we hear Thy call,
We test our lives by Thine.
We faintly hear, we dimly see,
In various phrase we pray;
But, dim or clear, we own in Thee
The Light, the Truth, the Way.
Our Friend, our Brother, and our Lord,
What may Thy service be?--
Not name, nor form, nor ritual word,
But simply following Thee.
To do Thy will is more than praise,
As words are less than deeds,
And simple trust can find Thy ways
We miss with charts of creeds.
CHRIST, ALL IN ALL
IN Christ all fulness dwells: from Him proceeds
All that fall'n man, poor, wretched, guilty, needs.
In Him the contrite, bruised in spirit, find
Whate'er can heal the sorrows of the mind--
Forgiving love, that saves from blank despair,
Rich grace, that banishes each anxious care,
Soft pity, that relieves the bursting sigh,
And truth, revealing joys that never die.
Thrice happy they, who to His word attend,
His favor seek, and on His strength depend.
'Tis theirs to know His heart-consoling voice,
To share His smile, and in His name rejoice.
To them, reclaimed in mercy from the fall
And heav'nward marching, Christ is all in all:
In want, their treasure--in distress, their stay--
In gloom, their day-spring--vigor, in decay--
'Mid foes, their guard--in solitude, their guest--
In storms, their hiding place--in toils, their rest--
In bonds, their freedom--their relief, in pain--
In life, their glory--and in all things, gain.
LET NOT DOUBTS O'ERWHELM.
HOW oft we doubt
And fear we shall be overwhelmed in sin,
Because temptation grows so strong without,
Because our courage is so faint within.
And thus we sigh:
Then can it be that I have known the Lord?
Can I be one with Him that sits on high?
Have I e'er felt the power of His Word?
Is this poor life
Fit prelude for a high eternity?
Alas! have I not yet begun the strife,
Or must I fail before the victory?
O heart of doubt!
When wilt thou, O thou foolish heart, be wise?
Thou lookest everywhere, within, without,
Forgetting only to lift up thine eyes.
No more despair,
There is no help for thee in things below;
Search not within for hope--it is not there,
But unto Christ do thou for comfort go.
Christ is thy Rock;
Doubt not this firm foundation, true and tried;
Fear not the gathering tempest's angry shock;
It harms not those that on this Rock abide.
Christ is thy Friend,
He knows thy weakness, He will give thee strength;
Trust! in His name is victory; He will end
The conflict for thee; thou shalt win at length.
Christ is thy Peace;
From penalty and stain He sets thee free;
And in the white robe of His righteousness,
Before the approving God presenteth thee.
Christ is thine ALL:
Forget thyself, and in Him sweetly rest;
And thou shalt enter, whatsoe'er befall,
The everlasting mansions of the blest.
JESUS ONLY.
JESUS only! In the shadow
Of the cloud so chill and dim,
We are clinging, loving, trusting,
He with us and we with Him;
All unseen, though ever nigh,
Jesus only--all our cry.
Jesus only! In the glory,
When the shadows all are flown,
Seeing Him in all His beauty,
Satisfied with Him alone;
May we join His ransomed throng,
Jesus only--all our song!
CHRIST WITHIN.
A LIVING Christ, of wondrous birth,
Who trod the dreary paths of earth,
Shedding abroad His holy light
Through the deep gloom of sin's dark night.
A dying Christ, whose precious blood
Seals the poor sinner's peace with God;
And fills the soul with fullest love,
Like to the joy prepared above.
A Christ ascended--all is done,
A world redeemed, a victory won.
With angel hosts, a glorious throng,
We'll sing with joy salvation's song.
A living Christ our spirits need,
A loving Christ our souls to feed;
A dying Christ, our ransom He,
A risen Christ to set us free.
This, too, our need--a Christ within,
A life with God, afar from sin,
A Christ whose love our hearts shall fill,
And quite subdue our wayward will.
----------
O WHAT, if we are Christ's,
Is earthly shame or loss?
Bright shall the crown of glory be
When we have borne the cross.
CHRIST, OUR TEACHER.
LET Him teach thee, weary soul; (Psa 27:11.)
Let His hands now make thee whole; (Job 5:18.)
Let His peace thy heart control,-- (Col. 3:15.)
Let Him teach thee.
Into paths of righteousness (Psa. 23:3.)
Let Him lead and let Him bless; (Psa. 67:7.)
Let Him save thee from distress,-- (Psa. 107:13.)
Let Him teach thee.
Let Him guide thee with His eye: (Psa. 32:8.)
Let His hand thy need supply; (Phil. 4:19.)
Let His goodness satisfy,-- (Psa. 65:4.)
Let Him teach thee.
Let His good Word sanctify; (Jno. 17:17.)
Let the furnace purify; (1 Peter 1:7.)
Let Him say, "Fear not; 'tis I,"-- (Mark 6:50.)
Let Him teach thee.
Let Him probe thy heart within; (Psa. 66:10.)
Let Him search out every sin; (Psa. 139:23.)
Let the glorious light shine in,-- (2 Cor. 4:6)
Let Him teach thee.
Let the Shepherd kindly feed; (Isa. 40:11.)
Let Him firmly, truly lead;
(He'll not break the bruised reed,) (Isa. 42:3.)
Let Him teach thee.
Let Him give thee songs at night; (Job 35:10.)
Let Him make the darkness light; (Isa. 42:16.)
Let Him set thy spirit right,-- (Psa. 51:10.)
Let Him teach thee.
In the tumult let Him hide, (Psa. 27:5; Psa. 31:20.)
Let Him keep thee at His side; (Ex. 33:21.)
Let His name be glorified,-- (Isa. 61:3.)
Let Him teach thee.
NOT I, BUT CHRIST.
NOT I, but Christ, be honored, loved, exalted;
Not I, but Christ, be seen, be known, be heard;
Not I, but Christ, in every look and action,
Not I, but Christ, in every thought and word.
Not I, but Christ, to gently soothe in sorrow;
Not I, but Christ, to wipe the falling tear;
Not I, but Christ, to lift the weary burden;
Not I, but Christ, to hush away all fear.
Not I, but Christ, in lowly, silent labor;
Not I, but Christ, in humble, earnest toil:
Christ, only Christ! no show, no ostentation;
Christ, none but Christ, the gatherer of the spoil.
Christ, only Christ, e'er long will fill my vision;
Glory excelling, soon, full soon, I'll see--
Christ, only Christ, mine every wish fulfilling--
Christ, only Christ, mine All in All to be.
TO JESUS ALWAYS.
I ALWAYS go to Jesus,
When troubled or distressed;
I always find a refuge
When I with Him can rest.
I tell Him all my trials,
I tell Him all my grief;
And while my lips are speaking
He gives my heart relief.
When full of dread forebodings,
And flowing o'er with tears,
He calms alway my sorrows,
And hushes all my fears.
He comprehends my weakness,
The peril I am in,
And He supplies the armor
I need to vanquish sin.
When those are cold and faithless,
Who once were fond and true,
With careless hearts forsaking
The old friends for the new,
I turn to Him whose friendship
Knows neither change nor end:
I always find in Jesus
An ever faithful Friend.
I always go to Jesus;
No matter when or where
I seek His gracious presence,
I'm sure to find Him there.
In times of joy or sorrow,
Whate'er my need may be,
I always go to Jesus,
And Jesus comforts me.
A PRESENT HELP.
THERE is never a day so dreary,
But God can make it bright;
And unto the soul that trusts Him,
He giveth songs in the night.
There is never a path so hidden,
But God will show us the way,
If we seek for the Spirit's guidance,
And patiently wait and pray.
There is never a cross so heavy,
But the loving hands are there,
Outstretched in tender compassion,
The burden to help us bear.
There is never a heart that is broken,
But the loving Christ can heal;
For the heart that was pierced on Calvary,
Doth still for His people feel.
There is never a life so darkened,
So hopeless and so unblest,
But may be filled with the light of God,
And enter His promised rest.
There is never a sin nor a sorrow,
There is never a care nor a loss,
But that we may carry to Jesus,
And leave at the foot of the cross.
What more can we ask than He's promised?
(And we know that His Word cannot fail,)
Our refuge when storms are impending,
Our help when temptations assail.
Our Savior, our Friend and Redeemer,
Our portion on earth and in Heaven;
For He who withheld not His own Son,
Hath with Him all things freely given.
HE RESTORETH MY SOUL.
I AM often so weary of sorrow,
So weary of struggling with sin,
So timid concerning the morrow,
So faithless of entering in
To the beautiful rest that remaineth
Secure in the City of God,
Where shall enter no evil that staineth,
Nor ever the spoiler hath trod.
But aye, when the struggle is sorest,
And dark the clouds grow o'er my soul,
Dear Lord, the sweet cup that Thou pourest
Hath blam, and I drink and am whole.
From the quenchless old well of salvation
I quaff the pure waters divine,
And a sense of triumphant elation
Is thrilled through this spirit of mine.
No hand but Thine own, blessed Master,
Could comfort and cheer in the day
When the touch of a sudden disaster
Hath cumbered and tangled the way.
No look but Thine own could illumine
When night gathers black o'er the land,
And strength that is failing and human
Lieth prone on the desolate strand.
But ever Thy help is the nearest
When help from the earth there is none,
And ever the word that is dearest
Is the word of the Crucified Son;
And aye, when the tempest-clouds gather,
I fly for sweet shelter and peace
Through the Son to the heart of the Father,
Then terror and tremor do cease.
He restoreth my soul, and I praise Him
Whose love is my chrism and crown;
He restoreth my soul; let me raise Him
A song that His favor will own;
For often so weary of sorrow,
So weary of fighting with sin,
I look and I long for the morrow
When the ransom'd their freedom shall win.
JESUS.
THE gentle sighing of the wind among the pines,
The joyous singing of the lark at break of day,
The rippling of the water-brooks through cooling shade,
The patter of the softly falling rain at night,
Are sounds less sweet by far than His most precious name.
No art can show a form so gracious and so fair,
No Master's hand hath drawn a smile so wondrous sweet,
Nor could depict the majesty of that pure brow;
No canvas ever glowed with such a holy light
As shines from His most radiant image in my heart.
The dearest earthly friend may fail in time of need,
The sweetest and the loveliest grow cold at heart,
The nearest may not heed the throbbing heart's sad cry,
The gayest throng may hold the loneliest solitude,
But Jesus, Jesus never fails my call to hear.
Oh, may the music of Thy name more clearly fall
Upon my ears attuned to catch that sweetest sound!
Oh, may Thine image in my heart so bright become
That I by gazing may be changed into the same;
Oh, blessed Jesus, let Thy presence ne'er depart,
Oh, come and reign forevermore with my heart!
THERE'S ONLY ONE.
THERE'S only one upon whose care
We safely lay our thoughts to rest;
There's only one who knows the depth
Of sorrow in each stricken breast.
There's only one whose pity falls
Like dew upon the wounded heart;
There's only one who never leaves,
Though enemy and friend depart.
There's only one, when none are by,
To wipe away the falling tear;
There's only one to heal the wound,
And stay the weak one's timid fear.
There's only one who understands
And enters into all we feel;
There's only one who views each spring
And each perplexing wheel in wheel.
There's only one who can support,
And who sufficient grace can give
To bear up under every grief,
And spotless in this world to live.
O blessed Jesus, Friend of friends!
Above us raise Thy sheltering arm,
And while amid this evil world,
Protect us from its guilt and harm.
I OFFER THEE.
EVERY heart's throb, it is Thine;
Every human tie of mine;
Every joy, and every pain;
Every act of mind, or brain--
My blessed God!
Every hope, and every fear;
Every smile, and every tear;
Every song and every hymn
"Laudamus Te."
Take them all, my blessed Lord,
Bind them with Thy secret cord;
Glorify Thyself in me--
Adored One!
Multiply them by Thy Word,
Strengthen, bless, increase, my Lord,
Perfect me in holy Love,
Thou first, and last!
TRUE BEAUTY.
BEAUTIFUL hands are they that do
The work of the noble, good and true,
Busy for them the long day through;
Beautiful faces--they that wear
The light of a pleasing spirit there,
It matters little if dark or fair;
And truly beautiful in God's sight,
Are the precious souls who love the right.
MY SACRIFICE.
LAID on Thine altar, O my Lord Divine,
Accept this gift to-day, for Jesus' sake.
I have no jewels to adorn Thy shrine,
Nor any world-famed sacrifice to make;
But here I bring, within my trembling hand,
This will of mine--a thing that seemeth small;
And Thou alone, O Lord, canst understand
How, when I yield Thee this, I yield mine all.
Hidden therein Thy searching gaze canst see
Struggles of passions, visions of delight,
All that I have, or am, or fain would be--
Deep loves, fond hopes, and longings infinite.
It hath been wet with tears, and dimmed with sighs,
Clenched in my grasp till beauty hath it none.
Now, from Thy footstool, where it vanquished lies,
The prayer ascendeth--"May Thy will be done!"
Take it, O Father, ere my courage fail;
And merge it so in Thine own will that I
May never have a wish to take it back;
When heart and courage fail, to Thee I'd fly.
So change, so purify, so like Thine own
Make Thou my will, so graced with love Divine,
I may not know or feel it as mine own,
But recognize my will as one with Thine.
----------
TODAY I seem to understand
That pain and trial, grief and care,
Are chisels in an unseen Hand
That round us into statues fair.
LORD, HERE I BRING MYSELF.
LORD, here I bring myself,
'Tis all I have to give,
My heart's desire is wholly this,
Henceforth for Thee to live;
To own no will but Thine,
To suffer loss or shame,
All things to bear, if only I
May glorify Thy name;
Henceforth mine every power
Each day for Thee to use,
My hands, my feet, my lips, mine all,
As Thou, my Lord, shalt choose.
Dear Lord, my constant prayer
Is for increase of grace,
That I by faith may walk with Thee,
Till I behold Thy face.
WHOM WILL YE SERVE?
CAESAR'S friends? or friends of Jesus?
Solemn question for to-day!
Friends of Caesar! Friends of Jesus!
Take your sides without delay.
If ye pause for man's forbidding,
Caesar's friendship ye secure;
If ye do the Father's bidding,
Scorn, reproach, ye shall endure.
Friends of Caesar! Friends of Jesus!
Stand revealed! your choice declare!
Who in truth two masters pleases?
Who may rival banners bear?
Jesus' friends account Him precious,
Lose for Him all other gain:
Dearer far the smile of Jesus
Than the praise of worldly men.
Free from Caesar, friends of Jesus!
Stand in phalanx! never fear!
Love, severely tried, increases;
Courage yet! the Lord is near!
Onward still, His name confessing,
Weaving crowns to grace His brow;
Lo! His hands are full of blessing,
Lifted for your succor now.
Caesar's friends were we, but Jesus
Owns us for His friends to-day!
What! shall rival friendship please us,
While the Bridegroom is away?
No! through grace would we surrender
Caesar's things to Caesar's care,
Whilst to God, Our God, we render
Filial homage, praise, and prayer.
----------
LEAVE no unguarded place,
No weakness of the soul,
Take every virtue, every grace,
And fortify the whole.
THE COST OF DISCIPLESHIP.
WOULD ye be My disciples? Consider again:
Can ye follow My footsteps through trial and pain?
Can ye throw away pleasure, and glory, and fame,
And live but to honor My cause and My name?
Can ye turn from the glitter of fashion and mirth,
And dwell like a pilgrim and stranger on earth,
Despising earth's riches, and living to bless?
Can you follow the feet of the shelterless?
Can ye ask from your heart the forgiveness of men?
Can ye list to reproaches, nor answer again?
Can ye pray that repentance to life may be theirs
Who've watched for your falling, who've set for you snares?
When ye hear I am come, then can ye arise,
The joy of your heart springing up in your eyes?
Can ye come out to meet Me, whate'er the cost be,
Though ye come on the waves of a storm-crested sea?
When I call, can ye turn and in gladness "come out"
From the home of your childhood, the friends of your heart?
With naught but My promise on which to rely,
Afar from their love--can ye lie down and die?
Yea, we'll take up the cross and in faith follow Thee
And bear Thy reproach, Thy disciples to be.
Blest Saviour, for courage, to Thee we will fly;
Of grace Thou hast promised abundant supply.
THE CALL DIVINE.
TO-DAY, to-morrow, evermore,
Through cheerless nights without a star,
Not asking whither or how far,
Rejoicing though the way be sore,
Take up thy cross
And follow Me.
I cannot promise wealth or ease,
Fame, pleasure, length of days, esteem--
These things are vainer than they seem--
If thou canst turn from all of these,
Take up thy cross
And follow Me!
I promise only perfect peace,
Sweet peace that lives through years of strife;
Eternal love, immortal life,
And rest when all these wanderings cease.
Take up thy cross
And follow Me!
My yoke is easy--put it on;
My burden very light to bear.
Who shareth this, My crown shall share--
The present cross insures the crown.
Take up thy cross
And follow Me!
COURAGE! PRESS ON.
TIRED! well, what of that?
Didst fancy life was spent on beds of ease,
Fluttering the rose leaves scattered by the breeze?
Come, rouse thee! work while it is called to-day:
Courage! arise! go forth upon thy way.
Lonely! and what of that?
Some must be lonely; 'tis not given to all
To feel a heart responsive rise and fall,
To blend another life within its own:
Work can be done in loneliness. Work on.
Dark! well, what of that?
Didst fondly dream the sun would never set?
Dost fear to lose thy way? Take courage yet!
Learn thou to walk by faith, and not by sight;
Thy steps will guided be, and guided right.
Hard! well, what of that?
Didst fancy life one summer holiday,
With lessons none to learn, and naught but play?
Go--get thee to thy task! Conquer or die!
It must be learned; learn it, then, patiently.
FULL CONSECRATION.
O SACRED union with the Perfect Mind!
Transcendent bliss, which Thou alone canst give,
How blest are they this Pearl of price who find,
And, dead to earth, have learned in Thee to live!
And thus, while dead to human hopes I lie,
Lost, and forever lost, to all but Thee,
My happy soul, since it has learned to die,
Has found new life in Thine infinity.
With joy we learn this lesson of the cross,
And tread the toilsome way which Jesus trod;
And counting present life and all things loss,
We find in death to self the life of God.
THE TRANSFORMATION.
TO the Potter's house I went down one day,
And watched him while moulding the vessels of clay,
And many a wonderful lesson I drew,
As I noted the process the clay went through.
Trampled and broken, down-trodden and rolled,
To render more plastic and fit for the mould
How like the clay that is human, I thought,
When in Heavenly hands to perfection brought!
For Self must be cast as the dust at His feet,
Before it is ready, for service made meet.
And Pride must be broken, and self-will lost--
All laid on the altar, whatever the cost.
But lo! by and by, a delicate vase
Of wonderful beauty and exquisite grace.
Was it once the vile clay? Ah! yes; yet how strange,
The Potter hath wrought such a marvelous change!
Not a trace of the earth, nor mark of the clay--
The fires of the furnace have burned them away.
Wondrous skill of the Potter!--the praise is his due,
In whose hands to perfection and beauty it grew.
Thus with souls lying still, content in God's hand,
That do not His power of working withstand--
They are moulded and fitted, a treasure to hold,
Vile clay now transformed into purest of gold.
GIDEON'S BAND.
"COUNT me the swords that have come."
"Lord, thousands on thousands are ready."
"Lo! these are too many, and with them are some
Whose hearts and whose hands are not steady.
He whose soul does not burn,
Let him take up his tent and return."
"Count me the swords that remain."
"Lord, hundreds on hundreds are daring."
"These yet are too many for Me to attain
To the victory I am preparing.
Lead them down to the brink
Of the waters of Marah to drink."
"Lord, those who remain are but few,
And the hosts of the foe are appalling,
And what can a handful such as we do?"
"When ye hear from beyond My voice calling,
Sound the trump! Hold the light!
Great Midian will melt in your sight!"
THE REFINING.
"TIS sweet to feel that He who tries
The silver takes His seat
Beside the fire that purifies,
Lest too intense a heat--
Raised to consume the base alloy--
The precious metals, too, destroy.
'Tis good to think how well He knows
The silver's power to bear
The ordeal through which it goes;
And that with skill and care
He'll take it from the fire when fit,
With His own hand to polish it.
'Tis blessedness to know that He
The piece He hath begun
Will not forsake till He can see--
To prove the work well done--
His image, by its brightness known,
Reflecting glory like His own.
But ah! how much of earthly mould,
Dark relics of the mine,
Lost from the ore, must He behold--
How long must He refine,
Ere in the silver He can trace
The first faint semblance of His face!
Thou great Refiner! sit Thou by,
Thy promise to fulfil!
Moved by Thy hand, beneath Thine eye,
And melted at Thy will,
O may Thy work forever shine,
Reflecting beauty pure as Thine!
THE NARROW WAY.
"DEAR Lord, the way seem very dark,
I cannot see."
"Yes, child, I know, but I will be thy Light--
Come, follow Me!"
"Dear Lord, so lonely is this way--
Where are my friends?"
"My child, dost thou forget how far from Me
Their pathway tends?"
"Dear Master, I am growing weak,
I scarce can stand."
"O, foolish child, trust not in thine own strength,
Come, take My hand;
"For I have trod this way before,
So dark to thee.
I know each step, its weariness and pain,
Wilt trust in Me?"
"Yea, Lord, though friendless, lonely, dark,
This way may be,
I will be strong. Beloved Guide, lead on,
I follow Thee!"
THE PILGRIM.
STILL onward through this land of foes
I pass in Pilgrim guise;
I may not stop to seek repose
Where cool the shadow lies;
I may not stoop amid the grass
To pluck earth's fairest flowers,
Nor by her springing fountains pass
The sultry noontide hours.
Yet flowers I wear upon my breast
That no earth-garden knows--
White lilies of immortal peace,
And love's deep-tinted rose;
And there the blue-eyed flowers of faith
And hope's bright buds of gold,
As lone I tread the upward path,
In richest hues unfold.
I keep mine armor ever on,
For foes beset my way;
I watch, lest passing on alone
I fall a helpless prey.
No earthly love have I--I lean
Upon no mortal breast;
But my Beloved, though unseen,
Walks near and gives me rest.
Painful and dark the pathway seems
To distant earthly eyes;
They only see the hedging thorns
On either side that rise;
They cannot know how soft between
The flowers of love are strewn.
The sunny ways, the pastures green,
Where Jesus leads His own;
They cannot see, as darkening clouds
Behind the Pilgrim close,
How far adown the western glade
The golden glory flows;
They cannot hear 'mid earthly din
The song to Pilgrims known,
Still blending with the angels' hymn
Around the wondrous throne.
So I Thy bounteous token-flowers
Still on my bosom wear;
While me the fleeting love-winged hours
To thee still nearer bear;
So from my lips Thy song shall flow,
My sweetest music be;
So on mine eyes the glory grow,
Till all is lost in Thee.
A SOLITARY WAY.
PSA. 107:1-9; PROV. 14:10; 1 COR. 2:11.
THERE is a mystery in human hearts,
And though we be encircled by a host
Of those who love us well, and are beloved,
To every one of us, from time to time,
There comes a sense of utter loneliness.
Our dearest friend is "stranger" to our joy,
And cannot realize our bitterness.
"There is not one who really understands,
Not one to enter into all I feel;"
Such is the cry of each of us in turn.
We wander in a "solitary way,"
No matter what or where our lot may be,
Each heart, mysterious even to itself,
Must live its inner life of solitude.
And would you know the reason why this is?
It is because the Lord desires our love.
In every heart He wishes to be first.
He therefore keeps the secret-key Himself,
To open all its chambers, and to bless
With perfect sympathy and holy peace
Each solitary soul which come to Him.
So when we feel this loneliness, it is
The voice of Jesus saying, "Come to Me;"
And every time we are "not understood,"
It is a call to us to come again;
For Christ alone can satisfy the soul,
And those who walk with Him from day to day
Can never have "a solitary way."
And when beneath some heavy cross you faint,
And say, "I cannot bear this load alone,"
You say the truth. Christ made it purposely
So heavy that you must return to Him.
The bitter grief, which "no one understands,"
Conveys a secret message from the King,
Entreating you to come to Him again.
The Man of Sorrows understands it well.
In all points tempted, He can feel with you.
You cannot come too often, or too near.
The Son of God is infinite in grace;
His presence satisfies the longing soul;
And those who walk with Him from day to day
Can never have "a solitary way."
GOD KNOWS.
GOD knows--not I--the devious way
Wherein my faltering feet must tread,
Before into the light of day
My steps from out this gloom are led.
And since my Lord the path doth see,
What matter if 'tis hid from me?
God knows--not I--how sweet accord
Shall grow at length from out this clash
Of earthly discords which have jarred
On soul and sense; I hear the crash,
Yet feel and know that on His ear
Breaks harmony--full, deep and clear.
God knows--not I--why, when I'd fain
Have walked in pastures green and fair,
The path He pointed me hath lain
Through rocky deserts bleak and bare.
I blindly trust--since 'tis His will--
This way lies safety, that way ill.
His perfect plan I may not grasp,
Yet I can trust Love Infinite,
And with my feeble fingers clasp
The hand which leads me into light.
My soul upon His errand goes--
The end I know not--but God knows.
RIGHT WAS THE PATHWAY.
LIGHT after darkness,
Gain after loss,
Strength after suffering,
Crown after cross.
Sweet after bitter,
Song after sigh,
Home after wandering,
Praise after cry.
Sheaves after sowing,
Sun after rain,
Sight after mystery,
Peace after pain.
Joy after sorrow,
Calm after blast,
Rest after weariness,
Sweet rest at last.
Near after distant,
Gleam after gloom,
Love after loneliness,
Life after tomb.
After long agony
Rapture of bliss!
Right was the pathway
Leading to this!
HE LEADETH ME.
IN pastures green? Not always; sometimes He
Who knoweth best, in kindness leadeth me
In weary ways, where heavy shadows be.
Out of the sunshine, warm and soft and bright,
Out of the sunshine into darkest night;
I oft would faint with terror and with fright,
Only for this--I know He holds my hand;
So, whether in the green or desert land,
I trust, although I may not understand.
And by still waters? No, not always so;
Ofttimes the heavy tempests round me blow,
And o'er my soul the waves and billows go.
But when the storm beats loudest, and I cry
Aloud for help, the Master standeth by,
And whispers to my soul, "Lo, it is I!"
Above the tempest wild I hear Him say,
"Beyond this darkness lies the perfect day,
In every path of thine I lead the way."
So, whether on the hill-tops, high and fair,
I dwell, or in the sunless valleys, where
The shadows lie--what matter? He is there.
And more than this, where'er the pathway lead,
He gives to me no helpless, broken reed,
But His own hand, sufficient for my need.
So, where He leads me I can safely go;
And in the blest hereafter I shall know,
Why, in His wisdom, He hath led me so.
BAPTISMAL HYMN.
O WELL-BELOVED Son of God
Be in our midst, we pray;
Our feet are in obedience shod,
To tread the narrow way.
Who giveth, gains; who loseth, finds;
Who dieth, lives to Thee--
Teach us this Law. Incline our minds
To drink Thy cup with Thee.
As drop by drop its bitter draught
Thy sinless lips did lave,
The uttermost of woe was quaffed,
This sin-sick world to save.
Death kissed Thy feet on Jordan's shore,
Thy hands on Calvary,
His Sovereign Thou! Our hearts adore
Thy glorious majesty.
Baptize us, Lord, into Thy death,
And may we chosen be
From out the world, as royal priests,
As sons and heirs to Thee.
----------
WHILE place we seek, or place we shun,
The soul finds happiness in none,
But with our God to lead the way,
'Tis equal joy to go or stay.
THE ONE LOAF.
THE twilight hour, when all the world doth dream, I stand amid
The ripening grain, that ripples, like the bosom of a lake
Beneath the evening breeze. I pluck, and idly hold within
My hand, one golden ear, the while in swift succession pass
Strange visions of the olden time: I see a threshing-floor,--
The wheat by wooden flail bereft of chaff and shining husk.
The scene is changed: I see a woman grinding at a mill,--
Between the upper and the nether stones the grain is crushed
Until no semblance of its former state remains, but each
Is merged into one common whole,--a coarse and homely meal.
Another picture,--mixed with water and with salt, a loaf,
Or flattened cake, is formed and laid upon the glowing coals.
And as I gaze my thoughts are lifted to a higher plane;
I see "the members of His body," like the golden grain,
Denuded of their glittering robes of earthly pride and fame;
The upper and the nether stones of life's vicissitudes
Are slowly, surely, grinding rich and poor, the high, the low,
Into one common-union,--heart and mind, and zeal and love;
With purifying salt, life-giving water of the Word,
The mass is being drawn and held and moulded in "one loaf."
Ah, then, beloved, when we drink of that memorial cup,
And eat the symbol of His flesh, let us partake with joy,
Nor marvel if we need that strange, transforming power of fire,
Ere we are counted worthy to be like our Lord and Head,
And "broken" that a hungry, fainting, dying world be fed!
"UNTIL HE COME."
"TILL He come!"--Oh, let the words
Linger on the trembling chords;
Let the little while between,
In their golden light be seen;
Let us think how heaven and home
Lie beyond that "Till He come."
When the weary ones we love
Enter on their rest above,
Seems the earth so poor and vast,
All our life-joy overcast?
Hush! be every murmur dumb;
It is only "Till He come."
Clouds and conflicts 'round us press;
Would we have one sorrow less?
All the sharpness of the cross,
All that tells the world is loss,
Death and darkness and the tomb
Only whisper, "Till He come."
See, the feast of love is spread.
Drink the wine and break the bread;
Sweet memorials!--till the Lord
Call us 'round His heavenly board;
Some from earth, from heaven some,
Severed only--till He come!
WHY DOST THOU WAIT?
POOR, trembling sheep! Ah! who outside the fold
Hath bid thee stand, all weary as thou art,
Dangers around thee, and the bitter cold
Creeping and growing into thine inmost heart?
Who bids thee wait till some mysterious feeling,
Thou knowest not what--perchance mayst never know--
Shall find thee, when in darkness thou art kneeling,
And fill thee with a rich and wondrous glow
Of love and faith; and change to warmth and light
The chill and darkness of thy spirit's night!
For miracles like this who bids thee wait?
Behold, God's precious word to thee is, "Come!"
The tender Shepherd opens wide the gate,
And in His love would gently lead thee home.
Why shouldst thou wait? Long centuries ago,
O timid sheep, the Shepherd paid for thee!
Thou art His own. Wouldst thou His beauty know,
Nor trust the love which yet thou canst not see?
Thou hast not learned this lesson to receive:
More blest are they who see not, yet believe.
Still dost thou wait for feeling? Dost thou say,
"Fain would I love and trust, but hope is dead;
I have no faith, and without faith, who may
Rest in the blessing which is only shed
Upon the faithful? I must stand and wait."
Not so. The Shepherd doth not ask of thee
Faith in thy faith, but only faith in Him;
And this He meant in saying, "Come to Me."
In light or darkness, seek to do His will,
And leave the work of faith to Jesus still.
TRUST IN THE LORD.
O TRUST thyself to Jesus,
When conscious of thy sin--
Of its heavy weight upon thee,
Of its mighty power within.
Then is the hour for pleading
His finished work for thee;
Then is the time for singing,
"His blood was shed for me."
O trust thyself to Jesus,
When faith is dim and weak,
And the very One thou needest
Thou canst not rise to seek.
Then is the hour for seeing
That He hath come to thee;
Then is the time for singing,
"His touch hath healed me."
O trust thyself to Jesus,
When tempted to transgress
By hasty word, or angry look,
Or thought of bitterness.
Then is the hour for claiming
Thy Lord to fight for thee;
Then is the time for singing,
"He doth deliver me."
O trust thyself to Jesus,
When daily cares perplex,
And trifles seem to gain a power
Thine inner soul to vex.
Then is the hour for grasping
His hand who walked the sea;
Then is the time for singing,
"He makes it calm for me."
O trust thyself to Jesus,
When some truth thou canst not see
For the mists of strife and error,
That veil its form from thee.
Then is the hour for looking
To Him to guide thee right;
Then is the time for singing,
"The Lord shall be my light."
O trust thyself to Jesus,
In bright and happy days,
When tasting earthly gladness,
Or winning human praise.
Then is the hour for hiding
In the shadow of His wings;
Then is the time for singing,
"Praise to the King of kings!"
O trust thyself to Jesus,
When thou art wearied sore,
When head or hand refuses
To think or labor more.
Then is the hour for leaning
Upon the Master's breast;
Then is the time for singing,
"My Savior gives me rest."
O trust thyself to Jesus,
When thou art tried with pain;
No power for prayer, the only thought
How to endure the strain.
Then is the hour for resting
In His perfect love for thee;
Then is the time for singing,
"He thinks and cares for me."
O trust thyself to Jesus,
In days of feebleness,
When thou canst only dumbly feel
Thine utter helplessness.
Then is the hour for proving
His mighty power in thee;
Then is the time for singing,
"His grace sufficeth me."
O trust thyself to Jesus,
When thou art full of care
For wanderers whom thou canst not win
Our blessed hope to share.
Then is the hour for trusting
Thy Lord to bring them nigh;
Then is the time for singing,
"He loves them more than I."
O trust thyself to Jesus,
When loved ones pass away,
When very lonely seems thy life,
And very dark thy way.
Then is the hour for yielding
Entirely to His will;
Then is the time for singing,
"I have my Savior still."
O trust thyself to Jesus,
When flesh and heart do fail,
And thou art called to enter
Death's dark, o'ershadowed vale.
Then is the hour for saying,
I will no evil fear;
Then is the time for singing,
"Lord, Thou art with me here."
O trust thyself to Jesus,
As thy spirit takes its flight,
From every earthly shadow,
To the realm of perfect light.
Then is the hour for shouting,
"Christ hath done all for me!"
Then is the time for singing,
"He gives the victory!"
TRUST HIM MORE.
SINCE The Father's arm sustains thee,
Peaceful be;
When a chastening hand restrains thee,
It is He.
Know His love in full completeness
Fills the measure of thy weakness;
If He wounds thy spirit sore,
Trust Him more.
Without measure, uncomplaining,
In His hand
Lay whatever things thou canst not
Understand.
Though the world thy folly spurneth,
From thy faith in pity turneth,
Peace thine inmost soul shall fill,
Lying still.
Like an infant, if thou thinkest
Thou canst stand,
Child-like, proudly pushing back
The proffered hand,
Courage soon is changed to fear,
Strength doth feebleness appear;
In His love if thou abide,
He will guide.
Therefore, whatso'er betideth,
Night or day,
Know His love for thee provideth
Good alway.
Crown of sorrow gladly take,
Grateful wear it for His sake,
Sweetly bending to His will,
Lying still.
To His own the Savior giveth
Daily strength;
To each troubled soul that striveth,
Peace at length.
Weakest lambs have largest share
Of this tender Shepherd's care.
Ask Him not, then, When? or How?
Only bow!
OUR BOW OF PROMISE.
A RAVELED rainbow overhead
Lets down to earth its varying thread--
Love's blue, joy's gold; and fair between
Hope's shifting light of emerald green.
On either side in deep relief
A crimson pain, a violet grief.
Wouldst thou amid their gleaming hues
Snatch after those, and these refuse?
Believe, could thine anointed eyes
Follow their lines, and sound the skies,
There where the fadeless glories shine
Thine unseen Savior twists the twine!
And be thou sure what tint soe'er
The broken ray beneath may wear,
It needs them all that, fair and white,
His love may weave the perfect light.
FOLLOW THE PATTERN.
LET us take to our hearts a lesson--no lesson can braver be--
From the ways of the tapestry weavers on the other side of the sea.
Above their heads the pattern hangs; they study it with care;
The while their fingers deftly work, their eyes are fastened there.
They tell this curious thing, besides, of the patient, plodding weaver;
He works on the wrong side evermore, but works for the right side ever.
It is only when the weaving stops, and the web is loosed and turned,
That he sees his real handiwork--that his marvelous skill is learned.
Ah! the sight of its delicate beauty, how it pays him for all his cost!
No rarer, daintier work than his was ever done by the frost.
Then the master bringeth him golden hire, and giveth him praise as well;
And how happy the heart of the weaver is, no tongue but his own can tell.
The years of man are the looms of God, let down from the place of the sun,
Wherein we are weaving alway, till the mystic web is done--
Weaving blindly, but weaving sure, each for himself his fate,
We may not see how the right side looks, we can only weave and wait.
But looking above for the pattern, no weaver need have fear;
Only let him look clear into heaven--the perfect pattern is there.
If he keeps the face of the Savior forever and always in sight,
His toil shall be sweeter than honey, his weaving is sure to be right.
And when his task is ended, and the web is turned and shown,
He shall hear the voice of the Master, who shall say to him, "Well done!"
Since in copying thus the pattern, he had laid his own will down;
And God for his wages shall give him, not coin, but a glorious crown.
"O THOU OF LITTLE FAITH."
O THOU of little faith, why dost thou fear?
The tempest hath no power when I am near;
Will not the angry waves be still at My command?
Step out, I'll hold thy hand,
Then, wherefore dost thou fear?
O thou of little faith, why dost thou doubt?
Doth not Mine Angel compass thee about?
Are not My Father's promises as sure to thee
As they have proved to Me?
Then, wherefore dost thou doubt?
O thou of little faith, what dost thou dread?
Are not the lilies clothed, the sparrows fed?
Heed not the world, nor marvel that it hateth thee,
For so it hated Me,--
What, therefore, dost thou dread?
O thou of little faith, why dost thou shrink?
Why dost thou tremble at the river's brink?
Oh, hark! Above its tumult sweetly sounds My "Come",
Thou art not far from home!
Then, wherefore wouldst thou shrink?
----------
THE bark is wafted to the strand by breath Divine,
And on the helm there rests another Hand than mine!
A PERFECT TRUST.
O BLESSED peace of a perfect trust,
My loving God, in Thee;
Unwavering faith, that never doubts
Thou choosest best for me.
Best, though my plans be all upset;
Best, though the way be rough;
Best, though mine earthly store be scant;
In Thee I have enough.
Best, though my health and strength be gone,
Though weary days be mine,
Shut out from much that others have;
Not my will, Lord, but Thine!
And e'en though disappointments come,
They, too, are best for me,
To wean me from a calm'ring world,
And lead me nearer Thee.
O blessed peace of a perfect trust
That looks away from all;
That sees Thy hand in everything,
In great events or small;
That hears Thy voice--a Father's voice--
Directing for the best:--
O blessed peace of a perfect trust,
A heart with Thee at rest!
IF I COULD KNOW.
IF I could only surely know
That all these things that tire me so
Were noticed by my Lord--
The pang that cuts me like a knife,
The noise, the weariness, the strife,
And all the nameless ills of life--
What peace it would afford!
I wonder if He really shares
In all these little human cares,
This mighty King of kings!--
If He who guides through boundless space
Each radiant planet in its place,
Can have the condescending grace
To mind these petty things.
It seems to me, if sure of this,
Blent with each ill would come such bliss
That I might covet pain,
And deem whatever brought to me
The blessed thought of Deity,
And sense of Christ's sweet sympathy,
Not loss, but richest gain.
Dear Lord, my heart shall no more doubt
That Thou dost compass me about
With sympathy Divine.
The Love for me once crucified
Is not the love to leave my side,
But waiteth ever to divide
Each smallest care of mine.
BRINGING HOME THE FLOCK.
THROUGH pastures fair,
And sea-girt paths all wild with rock and foam,
O'er velvet sward, and desert stern and bare,
The flock comes home.
A weary way,
Now smooth, then rugged with a thousand snares;
Now dim with rain, then sweet with blossoms gay,
And summer airs.
Yet, safe at last,
Within the fold they gather, and are still;
Sheltered from driving shower and stormy blast,
They fear no ill.
Through life's dark ways,
Through flowery paths where evil angels roam,
Through restless nights, and long, heart-wasting days,
Christ's flock comes home.
Safe to the fold,
The blessed fold, where fears are never known,
Love-guarded, fenced about with walls of gold,
He leads His own.
O Shepherd King,
With loving hands, whose lightest touch is blest!
Thine is the Kingdom, Thine the power, to bring
Thy flock to rest!
HOW STRONG AND SWEET MY FATHER'S CARE!
HOW strong and sweet my Father's care!
The words, like music in the air,
Come answering to my whispered prayer--
He cares for thee.
The thought great wonder with it brings--
My cares are all such little things;
But to this truth my glad faith clings,
He cares for me.
Yea, keep me ever in Thy love,
Dear Father, watching from above,
And let me still Thy mercy prove,
And care for me.
Cast me not off because of sin,
But make me pure and true within,
And teach me how Thy smile to win,
Who cares for me.
O still, in summer's golden glow,
Or wintry storms of wind and snow,
Love me, my Father: let me know
Thy care for me.
And I will learn to cast the care
Which like a heavy load I bear
Down at Thy feet in lowly prayer,
And trust in Thee.
For naught can hurt me, shade or shine,
Nor evil thing touch me, nor mine,
Since Thou with tenderness Divine
Dost care for me.
THE LORD MY SHEPHERD.
THE Lord my Shepherd feeds me,
And I no want shall know;
He in green pastures leads me,
By streams which gently flow.
He doth, when ill betides me,
Restore me from distress;
For His name's sake He guides me
In paths of righteousness.
His rod and staff shall cheer me,
When passing death's dark vale;
My Lord will still be near me,
And I shall fear no ill.
My food He doth appoint me,
Prepared before my foes;
With oil He doth anoint me;
My cup of bliss o'erflows.
His goodness shall not leave me,
His mercy still shall guide,
Till God's house shall receive me,
Forever to abide.
HAVE FAITH IN GOD.
WHEN the stormy winds are blowing,
And the angry billows roll,
When the mighty waves of trouble
Surge around thy stricken soul,
Have faith in God,
Who reigns above;
Yea, trust in Him,
For He is love.
When the way is rough and thorny,
Danger all along the path,
When the foe is ever planning
How to crush thee in his wrath,
Have faith in God;
His loving care
Shall keep thee safe
From every snare.
When thine eyes are dim with weeping,
And thy heart is full of woe
For the loved that now are sleeping
In the silent grave so low,
Have faith in God;
The dead shall rise
And meet the Savior
From the skies.
Art thou filled with eager longing
For the night to pass away?
Art thou weary of the watching
For the dawning of the day?
Have faith in God;
He is our stay;
Soon, soon will come
The perfect day.
Art thou hoping, waiting, praying,
For the presence of the Lord?
Art thou waiting for the Kingdom,
And the glorious reward?
Have faith in God;
Our King is here,
And soon His glory
Will appear.
COURAGE! MY SOUL.
LET nothing make thee sad or fretful,
Or too regretful--
Be still;
What God hath ordered must be right;
Then find in it thine own delight,
His will.
Why shouldst thou fill to-day with sorrow
About to-morrow,
My heart?
One watches all, with care most true.
Doubt not that He will give thee, too,
Thy part.
Only be steadfast, never waver,
Nor seek earth's favor,
But rest;
Thou knowest that God's will must be
For all His creatures--so for thee--
The best.
EVEN SO, FATHER
SOMETIME, when all life's lessons have been learned,
And sun and stars forevermore have set,
The things which our weak judgment here hath spurned--
The things o'er which we grieved with lashes wet--
Will flash before us out of life's dark night,
As stars shine most in deeper tints of blue;
And we shall see how all God's plans were right,
And how what seemed unkind was love most true.
And we shall see that while we weep and sigh
God's plans go on as best for you and me;
How, when we called, He heeded not our cry,
Because His wisdom to the end could see;
And e'en as prudent parents disallow
Too much of sweet to craving babyhood,
So God, perhaps, is keeping from us now
Life's sweetest things, because it seemeth good.
And if, sometime, commingled with life's wine,
We find the wormwood, and recoil and shrink,
Be sure a wiser hand than yours or mine
Pours out this portion for our lips to drink;
And if some friend we love is lying low,
Where human kisses cannot reach his face,
Oh! do not blame the loving Father--no,
But bear your sorrow with obedient grace.
And you shall shortly know that lengthened breath
Is not the sweetest gift God sends His friend,
And that sometimes with sable pall of death
There also comes a boon His love doth send.
If we could push ajar the gates of Truth,
And stand within, and all God's workings see,
We could interpret all apparent strife,
And for life's mysteries could find the key.
If not to-day, be thou content, poor heart!
God's plans, like lilies pure and white, unfold;
We must not tear the chose-shut leaves apart;
Time will reveal the calyxes of gold.
And if, through patient toil, we reach the land
Where tired feet, with sandals loosed, may rest,
When we shall clearly know and understand,
I think that we shall say that God knew best.
OH, WHO SHALL ROLL THE STONE AWAY?
A NAMELESS chill pervaded all the air,
On that gray morn, long centuries ago,
As through the city's narrow streets there crept
Two women on their way to Calvary.
The fragrant odors of sweet spices told
Of their sad errand to the tomb of Him
They loved. And as they neared the garden where
Their blessed Lord was laid, a sudden fear
Took hold upon their eager, loving hearts--
(The sepulchre was hewn from solid rock,
A great stone had been rolled before the door,
And sealed with Pilate's royal signature)--
They felt their weakness, and in anguish cried,
"Oh, who shall roll for us the stone away?"
But faith grew bold, they urged their faltering steps--
When lo! they found an Angel from the Lord
Had rolled away the stone, and sat thereon!
Thus often, when with loving zeal we seek
To serve the Lord, a great fear chills our hearts,
The door of opportunity seems closed,
And in our weakness and distress we cry,
"Oh, who shall roll for us the stone away?"
But when with faith and courage we press on,
We find the Angel of the Lord hath gone
Before, and lo! the stone is rolled away!
TRANSVERSE AND PARALLEL
MY will, dear Lord, from Thine doth run
Too oft a different way;
'Tis hard to say, "Thy will be done,"
In every darkened day!
My heart longs still to do Thy will
And all Thy Word obey.
My will sometimes would gather flowers;
Thine blights them in my hand;
Mine reaches for life's sunny hours;
Thine leads through shadow land;
And many days go on in ways
I cannot understand.
Yet more and more this truth doth shine
From failure and from loss:
The will that runs transverse from Thine
Doth thereby make its cross;
Thine upright will cuts straight and still
Through pride, and dream, and dross.
But if in parallel to Thine
My will doth meekly run,
All things in heaven and earth are mine;
My will is crossed by none;
Thou art in me, and I in Thee:
Thy will and mine are done.
O SOUL OF MINE!
O SOUL of mine, be calm, be still,
Submit thyself to God,
In all thy ways yield to His will,
Nor faint beneath the rod.
O soul of mine, like potter's clay
Within the Master's hand,
O let Him mould thee day by day,
Till faultless thou shalt stand.
O soul of mine, have faith, believe,
Nor count the cost of strife,
Fight on, faint not, thou shalt receive
At last the Crown of Life!
NOT SEEING, YET BELIEVING.
THE clouds hang heavy 'round my way,
I cannot see.
But through the darkness I believe
God leadeth me;
'Tis sweet to keep my hand in His
While all is dim;
To close my weary, aching eyes
And follow Him;
Through many a thorny path He leads
My tired feet.
Through many a path of tears I go,
But it is sweet
To know that He is close to me,
My God, my Guide;
He leadeth me, and so I walk
Quite satisfied.
To my blind eyes He may reveal
No light at all;
But while I lean on His strong arm
I cannot fall.
AMEN, AMEN.
I CANNOT say,
Beneath the pressure of life's cares today,
I joy in these;
But I can say
That I would rather walk this rugged way,
If Him it please.
I cannot feel
That all is well when dark'ning clouds conceal
The shining sun;
But then I know
God lives and loves; and say, since it is so,
"Thy will be done."
I cannot speak
In happy tones; the tear-drops on my cheek
Show I am sad;
But I can speak
Of grace to suffer with submission meek,
Until made glad.
I do not see
Why God should e'en permit some things to be,
When He is love;
But I can see,
Though often dimly, through the mystery,
His hand above.
I may not try
To keep the hot tears back; but hush that sigh,
"It might have been;"
And try to still
Each rising murmur, and to God's sweet will
Respond--"AMEN."
----------
E'EN sorrow, touched by heaven, grows bright
With more than rapture's ray,
As darkness shows us world of light
We never saw by day.
LOVE'S ALCHEMY.
LOVE is the filling from one's own
Another's cup.
Love is a daily laying down
And taking up;
A choosing of the stony path
Through each new day
That other feet may tread with ease
A smoother way.
Love is not blind, but looks abroad
Through other eyes;
And asks not "Must I give?" but "May
I sacrifice?"
Love hides its grief, that other hearts
And lips may sing;
And burdened, walks, that other lives
May, buoyant, wing.
Brother, hast thou a love like this
Within thy soul?
'Twill change thy name to saint when thou
Dost reach thy goal.
----------
O LOVE, our refuge in earth's wildest storm!
O Service, life-breath of a heart that's warm!
A dual-unity, of heaven born;
For love is service in its highest form.
Flame-tints that shimmer on the desert air!
Love-lights that make Life's sands a garden fair,
Where joy and pain sing softly to the soul,
That God in man is Love in human care.
LOVING SUBMISSION.
I MAY not understand just why the clouds obscure the sun,
But I can trust Him still, and feebly say, "Thy will be done."
I know not why each door of service He sees fit to close,
But I rejoice to find my will would ne'er His way oppose.
I can but wonder why it seemeth to my Father best,
To loosen from its resting place upon my throbbing breast
The priceless jewel fastened there by His own hand,--but then,
I joy to feel the mother-heart can still respond, Amen!
I do not always clearly see the lesson I should learn,
But hour by hour I'll strive to let the hallowed incense burn.
I know not why the sweet must turn to bitter in the cup,
But still I press it to my lips, and through my tears look up
To Him who is "too wise to err, too good to be unkind,"
Assured that, when the cup is drained, a blessing there I'll find.
Press hard, then, Master Workman, and refrain not, if I weep,--
The marble's fairest beauty grows beneath the chiseling deep,--
Yea, Lord, let skies be overcast, as seemeth best to Thee,
Take from my arms the dearest thing Thy love hath given me;
Let sweet or bitter fill my cup, according to Thy will,
I'll closer clasp Thy hand in mine and in the flame hold still.
And thus, although Thou slay me, I will praise Thee night and day,
I'll lay each burden at Thy feet, and bear a song away!
HIS WAY IS BEST.
JUST why I suffer loss
I cannot know;
I only know my Father
Wills it so.
He leads in paths I cannot understand;
But all the way, I know, is wisely planned.
My life is only mine
That I may use
The gifts He lendeth me
As He may choose.
And, if in love some boon He doth recall,
I know that unto Him belongeth all.
I am His child, and I
Can safely trust;
He loves me, and I know
That He is just;
Within His love I can securely rest,
Assured that what He does for me is best.
JUST TO LET THY FATHER DO WHAT HE WILL.
JUST to let Thy Father do what He will;
Just to know that He is true, and be still.
Just to follow, hour by hour, as He leadeth;
Just to draw the moment's power, as it needeth.
Just to trust Him, this is all. Then the day will surely be
Peaceful, whatso'er befall, bright and blessed, calm and free.
Just to let Him speak to thee, through His Word,
Watching, that His voice may be clearly heard.
Just to tell Him everything, as it rises,
And at once to bring to Him all surprises.
Just to listen, and to stay where you cannot miss His voice,
This is all! and thus today, you, communing, shall rejoice.
Just to trust, and yet to ask guidance still;
Take the training or the task, as He will.
Just to take the loss or gain, as He sends it;
Just to take the joy or pain as He lends it.
He who formed thee for His praise will not miss the gracious aim;
So today, and all thy days, shall be moulded for the same.
Just to leave in His dear hand little things;
All we cannot understand, all that stings.
Just to let Him take the care sorely pressing;
Finding all we let Him bear changed to blessing.
This is all! and yet the way marked by Him who loves thee best:
Secret of a happy day, secret of His promised rest.
ASSURANCE.
IT may not come to us as we have thought,
The blessed consciousness of sins forgiven;
We may not hear a voice that shall proclaim
Our title clear to the sweet rest of heaven.
We may not see a light upon the path
Above the brightness of the noonday sun,
Whose radiance shall reveal our names enrolled
As ransomed by the Lord's Anointed One.
Not thus may the sweet knowledge come to us,
That all is well with us forevermore;
Not with a flash of glory on the soul
Do all pass into life through Christ the door.
But like the winter merging into spring,
Or gently as the trees put forth their leaves,
May come to us the impulse of that life
Which God bestows on those sin truly grieves.
If we are conscious of a firm resolve
To follow Jesus as our constant guide;
If, in prosperity or in distress,
Our hearts cling closely to the Crucified;
If we are not ashamed to have it known
That in His service is our chief delight;
Though we may never feel the ecstasy
Which those attain who reach the mountain height;
Yet, if the hour of secret prayer be sweet,
When we hold converse with the Friend Divine,
And dear the time when with His "own" we meet,
For us the promise stand, "They shall be Mine."
HIS VEILED ANGELS GUARD THEE.
"The angel of the Lord encampeth round about them that fear
Him, and delivereth them."--Psa. 34:7. "He shall give
His angels charge over thee to keep thee in all thy
ways."--Psa. 91:11. "Are they not all ministering
spirits sent forth to minister
unto them that shall be heirs of
salvation?"--Heb. 1:14.
OFTEN when thou'rt faint and weary in the struggle and the strife,
And thy heart nigh sinks within thee, 'neath the strain and stress of life:
When thou'rt tempted, tried and fearful, and thou canst not see the way,
And each night looms black with shadows from thy sorrows in the day;
I would ask thee still to trust Him, He who sees all in the light,
For He guards thee by His angels, though they're veiled from thy sight--
Yea, He guards thee by His angels, though they're veiled from thy sight.
Oh, be watchful, oh, be sober, for the Adversary tries,
To allure us to destruction by his subtly fashioned lies.
He would sift us, he would tempt us, he would claim us for his prey,
And his legions ever watch us as we tread the Narrow Way:
But we know of his devices, and we trust Jehovah's might,
For He guards us by His angels, though they're veiled from our sight--
Yea, He guards us by His angels, though they're veiled from our sight.
There is One who knows thy weakness, and thy failings, and thy tears,
Thy burdens and thy sorrows, and thy tremblings and thy fears,
And thy heart-cries always reach Him, and are answered in His way,
Though thou canst not see His workings as they shape thy path each day.
Sad disaster had o'erwhelmed thee, had He not put forth His might,
Through His angels that surround thee, but are veiled from thy sight--
Guardian angels that surround thee, but are veiled from thy sight.
Ah, believe me, when the Day breaks, and we know as we are known,
In the sunlight of the glory that surrounds our Father's Throne,
He will tell us how He led us: we shall see the pathway clear,
The way we trod that led to God through failing, fault and fear.
And we'll see those guardian angels who were veiled from our sight,
We shall understand the workings of the Power put forth in might:
Yea, and with those guardian angels who were veiled from our sight,
We shall see our Savior, and our God, in Heaven's Eternal Light.
HE CARETH FOR YOU.
WHAT can it mean? Is it aught to Him,
That the nights are long, and the days are dim?
Can He be touched by the griefs I bear,
Which sadden the heart and whiten the hair?
Around His throne are eternal calms,
And strong, glad music of happy psalms,
And bliss unruffled by any strife.
How can He care for my poor life?
And yet I want Him to care for me,
While I live in this world where the sorrows be;
When the lights die down on the path I take;
When strength is feeble, and friends forsake;
When love and music, that once did bless,
Have left me to silence and loneliness;
And life-song changes to sobbing prayers--
Then my heart cries out for a God who cares.
When shadows hang o'er me the whole day long,
And my spirit is bowed with shame and wrong;
When I am not good, and the deeper shade
Of conscious sin makes my heart afraid;
And the busy world has too much to do
To stay in its course to help me through.
And I long for a Savior--can it be
That the God of the universe cares for me?
Oh, wonderful story of deathless love!
Each child is dear to that Heart above;
He fights for me when I cannot fight;
He comforts me in the gloom of night;
He lifts the burden, for He is strong;
He stills the sigh and awakens the song;
The sorrow that bore me down He bears,
And loves and pardons, because He cares.
Let all who are sad take heart again:
We are not alone in our hours of pain;
Our Father stoops from His throne above,
To soothe and quiet us with His love.
He leaves us not when the storm is high,
And we have safety, for He is nigh.
Can that be trouble, which He doth share?
Oh, rest in peace, for the Lord doth care.
MY TRUST IN HIM.
I CANNOT always see the way that leads
To heights above;
I sometimes quite forget He leads me on
With hands of love.
But yet I realize the path must lead me to
Immanuel's land,
And when I reach life's summit, I shall know
And understand.
I cannot always trace the onward course
My bark must take;
But looking backward, I behold afar
Its shining wake
Illumined with God's Light of Love; and so
I onward go
In perfect trust that He who holds the helm
The course must know.
I cannot always see the plan on which
He builds my life;
For oft the sound of hammer, blow on blow,
The noise of strife,
Confuse me till I quite forget He knows
And oversees,
And that in all details with His great plan
My life agrees.
I cannot always understand
The Master's rule;
I cannot always do the tasks He gives
In Life's hard school;
But I am learning with His help to solve
Them one by one;
And when I cannot understand, to say,
"Thy will be done."
FILLED WITH CHRIST'S FULNESS.
JESUS, my Lord, Thou art my life,
My rest in labor, strength in strife;
Thy love begets my love of Thee;
Thy fulness that which filleth me.
Long, long I struggled ere I knew
My struggling vain, my life untrue.
I sought by efforts of mine own
What is the gift of Christ alone.
I prayed, and wrestled in my prayer,
I wrought, but self was ever there;
Joy never came, nor rest, nor peace,
Nor faith, nor hope, nor love's increase.
Mine effort vain, my weakness learned,
Weary, from self to Christ I turned,
Content to let His fulness be
An unbought fulness unto me.
Life's heavenly secret was revealed--
In Christ all riches are concealed.
We try and fail; we ask, He gives,
And in His rest our spirit lives.
O peaceful rest! O Life Divine!
Mine efforts cannot make Thee mine.
I yield my sinful heart to Thee,
And in Thy love Thou fillest me.
IS IT FOR ME?
IS it for me, dear Savior,
Thy glory and Thy rest?
For me, so poor and humble,
Oh! shall I thus be blest?
Is it for me to see Thee
In all Thy glorious grace,
And gaze in endless rapture
On Thy beloved face?
Is it for me to listen
To Thy beloved voice,
And hear its sweetest music
Bid even me rejoice?
A thrill of solemn gladness
Hath hushed my very heart
To think that I may really
Behold Thee as Thou art;
Behold Thee in Thy beauty;
Behold Thee face to face;
Behold Thee in Thy glory
And rest in Thine embrace.
INTO HIS MARVELOUS LIGHT.
OUT of disaster and ruin complete,
Out of the struggle and dreary defeat,
Out of my sorrow, and burden, and shame,
Out of the evils too fearful to name,
Out of my guilt and the criminal's doom,
Out of the dreading, and terror, and gloom;
Into the sense of forgiveness and rest,
Into inheritance with all the blest,
Into a righteous and permanent peace,
Into the grandest and fullest release,
Into the comfort without an alloy,
Into a perfect and permanent joy.
Wonderful love that hath wrought all for me!
Wonderful work that hath thus set me free!
Wonderful ground upon which I have come!
Wonderful tenderness, welcoming home!
Out of the terror at standing alone,
Out, and forever, of being my own,
Out of the hardness of heart and of will,
Out of the longings which nothing could fill,
Out of the bitterness, madness and strife,
Out of myself and of all I called life;
Into the light and the glory of God,
Into the holy, made clean by His blood,
Into His arms, the embrace and the kiss,
Into the scene of ineffable bliss,
Into the quiet, the infinite calm,
Into the place of the song and the psalm.
Wonderful holiness, bringing to light!
Wonderful grace, putting all out of sight!
Wonderful wisdom, devising the way!
Wonderful power that nothing can stay!
BELIEVE GOOD THINGS OF GOD.
WHEN in the storm it seems to thee
That He who rules the raging sea
Is sleeping, still, on bended knee,
Believe good things of God.
When thou hast sought in vain to find
The silver thread of love entwined
In life's soft, tangled web, resigned,
Believe good things of God.
And should He smite thee till thy heart
Is crushed beneath the bruising smart,
Still, while the bitter teardrops start,
Believe good things of God.
'Tis true thou mayst not understand
The dealings of thy Father's hand;
But trusting what His love hath planned,
Believe good things of God.
He loves thee; in that love confide;
Unchanging, faithful, true and tried.
And through whatever may betide,
Believe good things of God.
BEARING GOD'S BURDENS.
I LONG had borne a weary load
Along life's rough and thorny road,
And oftentimes had wondered why
My friend walked burdenless, while I
Was forced to carry day by day
The cross which on my shoulders lay.
When, lo, one day the Master laid
Another cross on me! Dismayed
And faint, and trembling and distressed,
I cried, "Oh, I have longed for rest
These many days. I cannot bear
This other heavy load of care.
I pray Thee, Lord, behold this one--
Shall I bear both while he hath none?"
No answer came. The cross was laid
On my poor back, and I was weighed
Down to the earth. And as I went
Toiling along and almost spent,
Again I cried, "Lord, have I been
Untrue to Thee? Is it for sin
That I have done, that I must still
Carry this cross against my will?"
"My child," the Master's voice returned,
"Hast thou not yet the lesson learned?
The burden thou hast borne so long
Hath only made thee grow more strong,
And fitted thee to bear for Me
This other load I lay on thee.
Thy brother is too weak as yet
To have a cross upon him set.
God's burdens rest upon the strong--
They stronger grow who bear them long,
And each new burden is a sign
That greater power to bear is thine."
So now no longer I repine,
Because a heavy cross is mine,
But struggle onward with the prayer,
Make me more worthy, Lord, to bear!
TRUST.
"BLESSED ARE THEY WHO HAVE NOT SEEN AND YET HAVE BELIEVED."
CHILD of Mine, I love thee, listen now to Me,
And make answer truly while I question thee.
For I see that shadows do thy soul oppress,
And thy faith so weakens, that I cannot bless.
Thou hast craved My power and presence in thy soul.
Wilt thou yield thee truly unto My control?
Wilt thou let Me ever with thee have My way,
Yield thyself in all things simply to obey?
Though My presence ofttimes seem to be withdrawn,
Of mine inward workings not a trace be shown,
Wilt thou count Me present notwithstanding all,
Still believe I'm working ever in thy soul?
When I give to others what I thee deny,
Flood them with My sunshine, wholly pass thee by,
Wilt thou still believe in My strong love for thee,
Yield thee to My purpose whatsoe'er it be?
When I to thy pleadings seem no heed to pay,
And thy foes grow bolder, claim thee as their prey,
Though toward thee I'm silent, wilt thou stand the test,
On My Word of promise lay thee down to rest?
If to these My questions thou canst answer "Yes,"
Thou shalt be forever one I love the best.
To the inner circle of My favored few,
Thou shalt be admitted, and My glory view.
MY HYMN.
I CANNOT think but God must know
About the thing I long for so;
I know He is so good, so kind,
I cannot think but He will find
Some way to help, some way to show
Me to the thing I long for so!
I stretch my hand: it lies so near.
It looks so sweet, it looks so dear!
"Dear Lord," I pray, "oh, let me know
If it is wrong to want it so!"
He only smiles; He does not speak;
My heart grows weaker and more weak
With looking at the thing so dear,
Which lies so far and yet so near.
"Now, Lord, I leave at Thy dear feet
This thing which looks so near, so sweet;
I will not seek, I will not long;
I almost fear I have been wrong.
I'll go and work the harder, Lord,
And wait till by some loud, clear word
Thou callest me to Thy loved feet
To take this thing so dear, so sweet!"
THIS IS MY WILL FOR THEE.
JUST to hear my dear Master say,
"This is My will for thee;"
Then to whisper the dark night through,
"This is His will for me."
Just to keep in the narrow way,
Painful how'er it be,
Just to follow Him day by day,--
All shall be well with me.
Just to joyfully bear the pain,
All that He sendeth me,
Just to suffer the scorn and shame,--
Trust where I cannot see.
Just to hear, when the day seems long,
"This is My will for thee;"
Then shall my faith and love grow strong,
Knowing His will for me.
Oh, to hear, when the work is done,
"This is My will for thee,--
Faith and Patience and Love have won,--
Sit in My throne with Me!"
IN MY NAME.
THERE were only two or three of us
Who came to the place of prayer--
Came in the teeth of the driving storm;
But for that we did not care,
Since after our hymns of praise had risen,
And our earnest prayers were said,
The Master Himself was present there,
And He gave us the living bread.
We noted the look in each other's face,
So loving, and glad, and free;
We felt His touch when our heads were bowed,
We heard His "Come to Me!"
Nobody saw Him lift the latch,
And none unbarred the door;
But "Peace" was His token in every heart,
And how could we ask for more?
Each of us felt the relief from sin,
Christ's purchase for one and all;
Each of us dropped his load of care,
And heard the Heavenly call;
And over our spirits a blessed calm
Swept in from the Jasper Sea,
And strength was ours for the toil of life
In the days that were yet to be.
It was only a handful gathered in
To that little place of prayer,
Outside were struggle and strife and sin,
But the Lord Himself was there.
He came to redeem the pledge He gave--
Wherever His loved ones be,
To give His comfort and joy to them,
Though they count but two or three.
A LITTLE TALK WITH JESUS.
A LITTLE talk with Jesus,--
How it smooths the rugged road!
How it seems to help me onward,
When I faint beneath my load!
When my heart is crushed with sorrow,
And mine eyes with tears are dim,
There is naught can yield me comfort
Like a little talk with Him.
I tell Him I am weary,
And I fain would be at rest;
But I still will wait His bidding,
For His way is always best.
Then His promise ever cheers me
'Mid all the cares of life:--
"I am come, and soon in glory
Will end thy toil and strife."
Ah, that is what I'm wanting,
His lovely face to see--
And I'm not afraid to say it,
I know He's wanting me.
He gave His life a ransom
To make me all His own,
And He'll ne'er forget His promise
To me, His purchased one.
The way is sometimes weary
To yonder nearing clime,
But a little talk with Jesus
Hath helped me many a time.
The more I come to know Him,
And all His grace explore,
It sets me ever longing
To know Him more and more.
THE SECRET OF HIS PRESENCE.
IN the secret of His presence
How my soul delights to hide:
Oh, how precious are the lessons
Which I learn at Jesus' side.
Earthly cares can only vex me,
Trials never lay me low,
And when Satan comes to tempt me,
To the secret place I go.
When my would is faint and thirsty,
'Neath the shadow of His wing
There is cool and pleasant shelter,
And a fresh and crystal spring.
And my Savior rests beside me,
As we hold communion sweet;
If I tried, I could not utter
What He says, when thus we meet.
Only this: I know, I tell Him
All my doubts, and griefs, and fears;
Oh, how patiently He listens,
And my drooping heart He cheers.
Do you think He ne'er reproves me?
What a false friend He would be,
If He never, never told me
Of the faults which He must see.
Do you think that I could love Him
Half so well, or as I ought,
If He did not plainly tell me
Each displeasing word and thought?
No! for He is very faithful,
And that makes me trust Him more,
For I know that He doth love me,
Though sometimes He wounds me sore.
Would you like to know the sweetness
Of this secret of the Lord?
Go and hide beneath His shadow,
This shall then be your reward.
And whene'er you leave the silence
Of that happy meeting place,
You must mind and bear the image
Of the Master in your face.
MORTALLY WOUNDED.
I LAY me down to sleep,
With little thought or care
Whether my waking find
Me here--or there!
A bowing, burdened head,
Only too glad to rest,
Unquestioning upon
A loving breast.
I am not eager, bold,
Nor strong--all that is past!
I'm willing not to do,
At last, at last!
My half-day's work is done,
And this is all my part:
To give a patient God
My patient heart;
And grasp His banner still,
Though all its blue be dim;
These stripes, no less than stars,
Lead after Him.
Weak, weary and uncrowned,
I yet to bear am strong;
Content not e'en to cry,
"How long! How long!"
----------
"THE Lord be with you!" steals the benediction
With solemn splendor like a falling star;
In morns of joy and midnights of affliction,
It breathes its echoed sweetness near and far.
"The Lord be with you!" when the shadows hold you;
And prove His loving power to soothe and bless;
When dangers darken and when fears enfold you,
"The Lord be with you!" in His tenderness.
LORD, GIVE ME THIS!
O HEAVENLY Father, Thou hast told
Of a gift more precious than pearls and gold;
A gift that is free to every one,
Through Jesus Christ, Thine only Son.
For His sake, give this to me.
O give it to me, for Jesus said
That a father giveth his children bread,
And how much more Thou wilt surely give
The gift by which the dead shall live!
For Christ's sake, give this to me.
I cannot see, and I want the sight;
I am in the dark, and I want the light;
I want to pray, and I don't know how;
O give me Thy Holy Spirit now!
For Christ's sake, give this to me.
Since Thou hast said it, I must believe
It is only "ask" and I shall receive:
Since Thou hast said it, it must be true,
And there's nothing else for me to do!
For Christ's sake, give this to me.
So I come and ask, because my need
Is very great and real indeed.
On the strength of Thy Word I come and say,
Oh, let Thy Word come true today!
For Christ's sake, give this to me!
PRAYER OF THE CONSECRATED.
WE seek, not, Lord, for tongues of flame,
Or healing virtue's mystic aid;
But power Thy Gospel to proclaim--
The balm for wounds that sin hath made.
Breathe on us, Lord; Thy radiance pour
On all the wonders of the page
Where hidden lies the heavenly lore
That blessed our youth and guides our age.
Grant skill each sacred theme to trace,
With loving voice and glowing tongue,
As when upon Thy words of grace
The wondering crowds enraptured hung.
Grant faith, that treads the stormy deep,
If but Thy voice shall bid it come;
And zeal, that climbs the mountain steep,
To seek and bring the wanderer home.
Give strength, blest Savior, in Thy might;
Illuminate our hearts, and we,
Transformed into Thine image bright,
Shall teach, and love, and live, like Thee!
LIVING FOR JESUS.
LIVING for Jesus day by day,
Following just as He leads the way,
Never a choice in great or small,
Doing His will, and that is all.
LORD, LET ME TALK WITH THEE.
LORD, let me talk with Thee of all I do,
All that I care for, all that I wish for, too;
Lord, let me prove Thy sympathy, Thy power,
Thy loving oversight from hour to hour!
When I need counsel, let me ask of Thee:
Whatever my perplexity may be,
It cannot be too trivial to bring
To One who marks the sparrow's drooping wing;
Nor too terrestrial since Thou hast said
The very hairs are numbered on our head.
'Tis through such loop-holes that the foe takes aim,
And sparks, unheeded, burst into a flame.
Do money troubles press? Thou canst resolve
The doubts and dangers such concerns involve.
Are those I love the cause of anxious care?
Thou canst unbind the burdens they may bear.
Before the mysteries of Thy Word or will,
Thy voice can gently bid my heart be still,
Since all that now is hard to understand
Shall be unravelled in yon heavenly land.
Or do I mourn the oft-besetting sin,
The tempter's wiles, that mar the peace within?
Present Thyself, Lord, as the absolving priest,
To whom confessing, I go forth released.
Do weakness, weariness, disease, invade
This earthly house, which Thou Thyself hast made?
Thou only, Lord, canst touch the hidden spring
Of mischief, and attune the jarring string.
Would I be taught what Thou wouldst have me give,
The needs of those less favored to relieve?
Thou canst so guide my hand that I shall be
A liberal, "cheerful give," Lord, like Thee.
Of my life's mission, do I stand in doubt?
Thou knowest and canst clearly point it out.
Whither I go, do Thou Thyself decide,
And choose the friends and serv