Poems of home and country :: :: University of Virginia Library

Now gloomy night is gone,
And smiling day comes on;
The morning-dawn is breaking,
And we, from slumbers waking,
Look up to Thee, our Saviour,
And seek Thy daily favor.

Grant us Thy watchful care,
To save from every snare;
Oh, make us good and holy,
And teach us to be lowly,
And kind in every feeling,
And to each other yielding.

If pain and want we bear,
Be Thou, our Saviour, near,
To shine upon us brighter,
And make the sorrows lighter,
That are to mortals given,
To make them fit for heaven.

191

Lord, give our daily food,
And make us mild and good;
And when the clouds of evening,
Their glowing forms are weaving,
We'll look to Thee, our Saviour,
And praise Thee for Thy favor.

THINGS SMALL AND GREAT.

Who shall not love the weak and young?
The oak-tree, wide and tall,
A shade on land, a ship at sea,
Was once an acorn small.

Who shall not love the bloom of youth?
The buds of blushing spring
In summer beauty will expand,
And richest harvests bring.

Who shall not love the cloud that floats,
Slight as the human hand,
But in its fertile bosom bears,
Blessings for all the land?

Who shall not love the opening world?
The morning's first faint ray
Shines, a sweet harbinger of joy,
Earnest of perfect day.

Who would not teach the infant tongue
To lisp the Saviour's name?
The Saviour ransomed such as these,
For such as these He came.

192

Who would not deem the smallest gem
Worthy his utmost care,
To fit it for the radiant crown
The Saviour's brow shall wear?

September 7, 1893.

THE DEWDROP AND THE SOUL.

A bright drop on the rose-leaf rests,
A little quivering one;
Yet in its tiny globe it holds
The mighty, shining sun.

The soul, a gem, of birth divine,
Sparkles on life's fair tree;
But in its little compass, God,
The Almighty, deigns to be.

Each mirrors in its sunny depths
A light that ever shines;
Cradled in thorns, beaming with joy,
Such are life's varied lines!

What is the drop? Mere dew—a tear;
Exhaled,—'t is quickly gone!
Fraught with immortal life, the soul,
Like God himself, lives on.

How blest the life whose steady light
To this dark world is given!
Winds breathe and pass; such life will last,
A life for God and heaven.

Translated from the Swedish.

193

RELIGION.

The joys of earth are fleeting,
And, quick, their charms retreating,
Give place to grief and woe!
There is no scene of gladness,
That is not dashed by sadness;
There is no perfect bliss below.

But there are fadeless pleasures,
And ever-during treasures,
Joys which no tongue can tell,
Sweet streams of consolation,
And rivers of salvation,—
From pure religion's fountain well!

When sorrows gather o'er us,
And troubles crowd before us,
Religion gives us light;
The chains are loosed that bound us,
The skies grow clear around us,
And all is peaceful, fair, and bright.

When mortal life is fading,
Thro' Death's dark Jordan wading,
There is no painful gloom:
Religion cheers the holy,
And points the meek and lowly
To joys that live beyond the tomb.

194

REMEMBER THY CREATOR.

ECCLESIASTES XII.

Remember thy Creator
While youth's fair spring is bright,—
Before thy cares are greater,
Before comes age's night.
While yet the sun shines o'er thee,
While stars the darkness cheer,
While life is all before thee,
Thy great Creator fear.

Remember thy Creator
Before the dust returns
To earth,—for 't is its nature,—
And life's last ember burns!
Before with God who gave it
Thy spirit shall appear,
He cries, who died to save it,
“Thy great Creator fear.”

THANKSGIVING.

While all creation sings for joy,
Let thoughts of praise our hearts employ
Amid the harmony around,
Let not our tongues be silent found,—
Our music still!

195

Ten thousand songs of praise we owe,
To Him whose glories round us flow,
To Him who bids our sorrows cease,
And fills our souls with sacred peace,—
So great His love!

He guides our steps to living streams;
He leads our thoughts to holy themes;
Our wandering feet His love redeems,
By day He cheers us with His light,
And gives us sweet repose at night,—
So rich His grace!

Let all who dwell below the sky
Join in the angels' minstrelsy,
Till earth no more is dark with sin,
And heavenly joys their course begin,
No more to cease!

MARTHA AND MARY.

Cumbered with earthly care,
Her lot, to do and bear,
To watch and wait,
Martha, with tender thought,
Her loving service brought;
It was for Christ she wrought
Early and late.

Mary (a place most sweet!),
Low at the Saviour's feet,
Hung on His word;

196

Hers, but in love sincere,
Waiting His voice to hear,
With meek and holy fear,
Beside her Lord.

Be ours the bliss to sit,
Waiting at Jesus' feet,—
The twain in one,—
Whether we hear or do,
With patient hearts and true,
To toil, and listen, too,
To Him alone.

PERFECT IN CHRIST.

Perfect in Christ, our spirits yearn to be;
Perfect in manhood,—perfect, Lord, in Thee;
Strong in Thy strength, to love, to do, to bear;
Strong through Thy mighty arm, Thy ceaseless care.

Perfect in Christ,—no pain, no grief, nor loss,
Nor wearing toil, nor weight of wearying cross
Shall check the fond desire that bliss to feel,—
To bear the impress of the Spirit's seal.

As some glad morning bird, on joyous wings,
Leaps from her nest, and, soaring heavenward, sings,—
So would our souls, from sin's dark thraldom free,
Bound upward, Lord, to find their rest in Thee.

Perfect in Christ, these natures, weak and frail,
O'er sin and weakness shall at last prevail;
In Him complete, before Him reverent fall,—
Our Priest, our King, our Saviour, and our All.

197

FLEETING BLESSINGS.

FROM THE GERMAN.

There stood upon a river's bank
A tall and branching tree,
Beneath whose shade a shepherd lived,
From care and tumult free.
The rustling breeze, so mild and cool,
Watched o'er his nightly rest;
And all day long the rippling stream
In flashing light was drest.

But, ah! a torrent from the hills
Rushed fiercely to the shore,
Tore from its root the stalwart tree,
And down the current bore;
The flood passed by, and all was still,
The broad, bright stream flowed on;
But when the shepherd sought the place,
The sheltering tree was gone.

So sickness sweeps along the land;
So death is drawing nigh;
And we, with all our life and joy,
May droop and faint and die!
When God shall call our spirits home,
We may no longer stay;
Dear Saviour, make us meet to dwell
With Thee in endless day!

198

EARLY CONSECRATION.

To Him who dwells above, all grace possessing;
To Him, who sheds upon us every blessing,—
Ourselves, our all, we consecrate to-day;
Our souls we yield to His delightful sway.

No earthly joy shall part, no sorrow sever,
Our hearts from Thee, our God, our King, forever;
Our steadfast spirits shall in Thee confide,
And ever near Thy sacred throne abide.

Where'er we go, Thy fear shall be before us;
Where'er we stay, no sin shall triumph o'er us.
In every hour, to Thee, our souls shall fly;
To Thee, we yield our spirits, till we die.

The vows, blest Saviour, which our lips have spoken,
Shall never by deceitful hearts be broken;
Still let Thy grace upon our efforts shine,
And we will evermore be only Thine!

OUR BELOVED TEACHERS.

As fades the light of closing day,
As earth's fair flowers shut at even,—
So pass they from our paths away
Who led our infant feet to heaven.

199

The seed of living truth they sowed
Shall in a genial harvest rise,
And children gathered home to God
Be their bright honor in the skies.

Oh, happy they whose weekly toil
Prepares fresh gems in heaven to shine;
Such wealth no worldly ill can spoil,
Nor make its priceless worth decline.

Oh, happy they who, early taught
To give their hearts, O Lord, to Thee,
Bind budding life and opening thought
To life's great end,—eternity.

When earth and years and life are passed,
And Heaven shall yield its long reward,
Gather our little flock at last
To be forever with the Lord.

THE WORD OF GOD.

Blest word of God, our help, our stay!
Our star by night, our sun by day!
Our compass o'er life's pathless sea!
Our guide, O God, to heaven and Thee!

Blest source of truth, thy voice we hear;
Thy precepts love, thy law revere!
God's hand on every leaf we trace;
In every page we see His face!

200

How free the pardon it reveals!
How rich the covenant love it seals!
How safe on its Amen to rest,—
The Word of God, forever blest!

Far as the homes of man are known,
Reign Thou, Jehovah, God alone!
Send forth Thy Spirit with Thy word,
Till all earth's millions own Thee, Lord!

THE CLOSING WEEK.

How sweet the evening shadows fall,
Advancing from the west,
As ends the weary week of toil,
And comes the day of rest!

Bright o'er the earth the star of eve
Her radiant beauty sheds;
And myriad sisters calmly weave
Their halo round our heads.

Rest, man, from labor; rest from sin!
The world's hard contest close;
The holy hours with God begin;
Yield thee to sweet repose.

Bright o'er the earth the morning ray
Its sacred light will cast,—
Fair emblem of the glorious day
That evermore shall last.

201

SATURDAY EVENING.

Daily the hum of eve returns;
The twilight onward speeds,—
As night to day, and day to night,
In changeless round succeeds.

But busier is the evening hum
That swells upon the air;
And quicker footsteps seem to tell
Of more than common care.

It is the night-fall of the week;
It brings the joyful close
To earthly scenes awhile, and bids
The spirit take repose.

No work shall break the Sabbath rest;
No care with harsh control
Shall bind, in mortal grasp, the strength
Of the immortal soul.

The day shall be a day of love,
With holy converse blest,
And urge the lingering spirit on,
To seek the heavenly rest.

Then let the evening hum be loud;
'T is but the note that tells
Of preparation for the peace
That in the Sabbath dwells!

202

SABBATH MORNING.

How blest the Sabbath morning breaks
O'er island, continent, and deep!
How sweet the thrill of holy peace,
Whose pulses through the spirit creep!

All Nature wears a fairer hue;
The balmy wind more fragrant blows;
While the blue canopy above
Reflects and shares the glad repose.

The summer clouds that skirt the west,
Heaped on the far horizon's rim,
Seem like an angel choir at rest,
Intent to join earth's grateful hymn.

And thousands crowd from thousand homes,
In every land where man has trod;
The babe to lisp, and age to learn,
The wondrous works and ways of God.

Gather them in with loving zeal,
From South to North, from East to West,—
To Him whose loving arms embrace,
Whose loving voice proclaims them blest.

203

THE LORD'S DAY.

Pleasant is the day of rest,
Of the happy week the best;
Care and sorrow leave the breast
On the Sabbath day.

Brightest beams the sun afar,
Sweetest is the evening star,
Fairest Nature's glories are,
On the Sabbath day!

With the good I love to go
Where Salvation's tidings flow,
Breathing heaven while here below,
On the Sabbath day!

Precious is the Sabbath-school,
Kind and gentle every rule,
Every scene of mercy full,
On the Sabbath day!

Saviour, may I learn of Thee,
Meek and mild and good to be,
While Thy teachings come to me
Every Sabbath day!

Guide me to the world above,
By Thy Spirit and Thy love;
May I all the joys improve,
Of the Sabbath day!

Holier await the just,
When they leave this mortal dust;
Teach me, Lord, in Thee to trust,
On the Sabbath day!

204

ANNIVERSARY HYMN.

[_]

[Tune: Italian Hymn.]

Blest be the day of rest,
Of all the week the best,—
Queen of the seven!
Day given to praise and pray,
Soothing life's weary way,
Turning our night to day,
Emblem of heaven!

We love the house of prayer,
Breathings of heaven are there;
Its hymns of praise
And messages of love
Attract our hearts above,
Bidding us come and prove
Jesus' rich grace.

Blest be our gracious Lord!
Blest be His loving word,—
“Let children come
To me,”—their Guide and Friend!
He will our steps defend,
And, when life's toils shall end,
Welcome us home.

205

The hour that calls us here,
Marks one more happy year,
In mercy given;
When fades life's twilight ray,
Be ours the perfect day,—
Life, that feels no decay,
Sabbath in heaven!

Sung at the Clarendon Street Baptist Church, Boston, October 14, 1889.

A SABBATH-SCHOOL HYMN.

FROM THE GERMAN.

All the week we spend
Full of childish bliss;
Every changing scene
Brings its happiness;
Yet our joys would not be full,
Had we not the Sabbath-school.

Lovely is the dawn
Of each rising day;
Loveliest, the morn
Of the Sabbath day!
Then our infant thoughts are full
Of the precious Sabbath-school.

To our happy ears,
Blessed News are brought,—
Tidings of the work
Love divine has wrought.
Gracious news and merciful,—
How we love the Sabbath-school!

206

Teachers, you are kind,
Thus to point the road
Leading us from sin
To our Father, God.
May we all be dutiful,
In the precious Sabbath-school!

Sweetly fades the light
Of each passing day;
Fairest is the night
Of the Sabbath day;
Then our hearts with praise are full,
For the precious Sabbath-school.

SABBATH EVENING.

Softly fades the twilight ray
Of the holy Sabbath day,
Gently as life's setting sun,
When the Christian's course is run.

Night her solemn mantle spreads
O'er the earth, as daylight fades;
Nature rests in sweet repose,
At the holy Sabbath's close.

Peace is on the world abroad;
'T is the holy peace of God,—
Symbol of the peace within,
When the spirit rests from sin.

207

Still the Spirit lingers near,
Where the evening worshipper
Seeks communion with the skies,
Pressing onward to the prize.

Saviour, may our Sabbaths be
Days of peace and joy in Thee,
Till in heaven our souls repose,
Where the Sabbath ne'er shall close.

GOD BE OUR STAFF AND FRIEND.

[_]

[Tune: “Bethany.”]

Far from the dear delights
Of friends and home,
Summoned by life's high call,
Pilgrims, we roam;
Waifs on the world's highway,
Cheerful in hope, we stay;
God make our darkness, day,
Our winter, bloom.

Of scenes and seasons past,
Fond memory tells,
Sweet as the lulling sounds
Of vesper bells;
But more than pleasures gone,
Are deeds of duty done,
And life's grand conquest won,—
Draughts from deep wells.

208

They gather, far away,
The loved, the fair,
To keep this festal day
With praise and prayer.
We know they love us still;
God save them all from ill,
Their ardent prayers fulfil,—
The loved ones, there.

We trust His generous arm
Through all life's fever;
God be our Staff and Friend,
Strong to deliver;
Then, 'neath heaven's gorgeous dome,
No more like drifting foam,
The households, all at home,
Shall feast forever.

Written for a Young Men's Association of Boston, to be sung at a Thanksgiving Dinner; also used at a Christmas Dinner, at San Francisco, 1884, by two hundred young men, away from home.

THE YOUNG FOR CHRIST.

[_]

Written for the Societies of Christian Endeavor and other Young Peoples' Societies' Convention held in Chicago, Ill., July, 1891.

Drawn from a thousand distant homes,
In Christ's dear love we meet;
The hosts who labor in His cause,
In Christ's dear name we greet.

We hold one Lord, one central light;
Our hopes, our aims are one,—
As planets, in their devious flight,
Revolve around one sun.

209

Humbly, in loyal faith, we bow
At one Redeemer's feet;
Our prayers, like clouds of incense, rise
Before one mercy-seat.

If blossoms of the early spring
Are doubly sweet and fair;
Our budding youth to God we bring,
And leave the offering there.

One kingdom to our conquering Prince,
From sea to sea, be given;
His will be done o'er the wide earth,
Just as 't is done in heaven!

ONWARD! CHRISTIAN WARRIORS.

[_]

[Tune: “Webb.”]

Onward! O Christian warriors,
Where'er the trumpet calls;
Onward! the Leader summons,
Beyond the sheltering walls;
Onward! the work awaits you,
Fear not the world's cold frown;
Arm for the glorious conflict,
Then wear the victor's crown.

Onward! with loving purpose,
Where crime and sorrow reign;
Onward! like men in earnest;
Onward! with heart and brain;

210

Onward! to save the erring,
To break the bonds of sin;
Onward! the lost to rescue;
Gems for Christ's crown to win.

Onward! the battle thickens;
The Captain's signal see;
Onward! to deeds of glory;
Onward! to victory;
Onward! with God assisting,
Like soldiers true and brave,
Till o'er each conquered fortress
Salvation's banners wave.

For the Young People's rally, Dudley Street, Boston, November 26, 1894.

211

THE GOSPEL MINISTRY.

HARVEST-TIME.

Far o'er the land the precious grain
Waves 'neath the sunny sky,
And ripening harvests offer sheaves
For immortality.

But who will reap the golden fruit,
And who at last will stand,
A faithful servant, crowned with joy,
O Lord, at Thy right hand?

Be ours the work, be ours the joy,
To us the charge be given,
To gather souls to Christ, and find
Our garnered sheaves in heaven.

Strength to the reapers, mighty God,—
Strength to the reapers send,
To bear the burden of the day,
And labor till the end.

There songs of triumph shall arise;
Then shall Thy kingdom come,
And echoing anthems greet at last
The heavenly harvest home.

212

SOWING AND REAPING.

As whitening fields of precious grain
On sunny hills expand,
The world's wide harvest, fully ripe,
Waits for the reaper's hand.

But who shall reap the joyful crop?
And who with gladness sing,
When he that sowed with tears and hope
His sheaves shall homeward bring?

Each lowly toiler o'er earth's waste,
Through paths of sadness led,
Shall bring some crown at last to rest
On our Immanuel's head.

Then be our path through sun or shade,
Be dark or bright our way,
We toil in hope and love, till dawns
Heaven's pure and perfect day.

Then he that sowed on distant hills,
In humble faith and prayer,
And he that reaped in fields at home,
Shall sing together there.

Sower and reaper, from their Lord,
Shall hear the joyful “Come!”
Sower and reaper meet and sing
Heaven's glorious “Harvest-home.”

213

WELCOME TO A PASTOR.

Come to our waiting hearts and homes,
O teacher, sent from Heaven;
To thee, to guide our souls to God,
The highest behest is given.

Come with the prophet's stern rebuke,
The warning trump to sound;
Come, point us to the Rock, wherein
Alone is safety found.

Come with the words of heavenly grace,
To cheer the fainting soul;
Come with the Spirit's saving power,
To make the wounded whole.

Come with the Shepherd's loving heart,
The tender flock to guide,
To feed in pastures green, and lead
Where living waters glide.

Come, for the waving field is ripe,
The sickle waits thy hand,
And bending harvests, far and near,
Around the reaper stand.

And when the workman, worn with toil,
His finished labor leaves,
He, with rejoicing heart, shall bring
Homeward his glorious sheaves.

214

A BLESSING SOUGHT UPON A PASTOR.

And now the solemn deed is done;
The vow is pledged, the toil begun,—
Seal Thou, O God, the oath above,
And ratify the pledge of love.

The shepherd of Thy people bless;
Gird him with Thy own holiness;
In duty may his pleasure be,
His glory in his zeal for Thee.

Here let the ardent prayer arise,
Faith fix its grasp beyond the skies,
The tear of penitence be shed,
And myriads to the Saviour led.

Come, Spirit, here consent to dwell;
The mists of earth and sin dispel;
Blest Saviour, Thy own rights maintain,
Supreme in every bosom reign.

Oh, let our humble worship be
A grateful tribute, Lord, to Thee;
And may these hallowed scenes of love
Fit us for purer joys above.

215

THE DIVINE PRESENCE INVOKED.

O thou whose glory fills the sky,
Exalted be Thy praise!
Let all below, let all on high,
To Thee hosannas raise.

Light of the world, and Joy of all
The saints around the throne,
While they, in holy reverence, fall,
And worship Thee alone,—

Accepted at the throne of grace,
Oh, may our praise ascend;
And unto us reveal Thy face,
While at Thy feet we bend.

Contrite and humble hearts, O God,
We fain would bring to Thee,
And, like the saints in Thine abode,
Serve Thee in purity.

Spirit of God! with gracious power
In Zion's courts appear,
And make it known, this sacred hour,
That Zion's God is here.

216

BENEFITS OF THE MINISTRY.

Blest is the hour when cares depart,
And earthly scenes are far,—
When tears of woe forget to start,
And gently dawns upon the heart
Devotion's holy star.

Blest is the place where angels bend
To hear our worship rise,
Where kindred thoughts their musings blend,
And all the soul's affections tend
Beyond the veiling skies.

Blest are the hallowed vows that bind
Man to his work of love,—
Bind him to cheer the humble mind,
Console the weeping, lead the blind,
And guide to joys above.

Sweet shall the song of glory swell,
Spirit divine, to Thee,
When they whose work is finished well,
In Thy own courts of rest shall dwell,
Blest through eternity.

217

GREAT IS THE WORK, BUT THINE THE POWER.

ORDINATION HYMN.

Great is the work, but Thine, O God, the power,
Our Strength in weakness, and in fear, our Tower;
Seal with Thy Spirit what our hands have done,
And crown with joyful fruits the work begun.

Sustain Thy servant in his varied toil;
Enrich the sower, bless the fruitful soil.
To prayer and faith, let souls redeemed be given;
Graces made perfect, spirits trained for heaven.

The work, the gifts, the heart to do and bear,
To us intrusted, crave, O God, Thy care;
Cheerful, we wait Thy will, our field assign;
Grant us Thy help, and be the glory Thine.

THE CHOSEN OF GOD.

Oh, blest are they to whom 'tis given
To shine as radiant stars above,—
The sons of light, the heirs of heaven,
The tenants of a world of love.

No grief shall draw the swelling tear
Of anguish from the pilgrim's eye;
No wearying toil, no anxious fear,—
The conqueror never more shall die.

218

No fierce disease, no chilling blast,
Shall e'er that better land invade;
Faith's vision there shall change to sight,
And glory o'er the scene be shed.

And there the peace that Jesus gives,
In every ransomed soul shall reign;
There parted friends shall meet in joy,
There mothers clasp their babes again.

O glorious world, in vain we strive
To catch a glimpse of joys so high;
Nor thought can reach, nor words describe
The scenes that glow beyond the sky!

With ardent zeal our souls are fired
To pass beyond affliction's rod,
The crown of endless life to win,
And reach the paradise of God.

THE SICKLE AND THE SHEAF.

'T is mine to wield the sickle,
Thine, Lord, to give the sheaf;
Through Thee the buds of spring-time
Burst into life and leaf.
Mine is the toil of seed-time,
And Thine the sun and rain;
Mine is the sweat and patience,
And Thine the ripened grain.

219

Though wan and weary reapers
Amid their labors fall,
And workmen, few and scattered,
In vain for helpers call;
Though noontide heat burns fiercely,
Or threatening tempest lowers,—
The gathering and the gleaning
Is by mightier strength than ours.

We can wait with calm endurance,
Though the drought curls up the leaf;
We can trust Jehovah-jireh
To fill the swelling sheaf.
'T is ours the sturdy muscle,
The vigorous arm to bring;
'T is Thine with heavenly blessing
To make the valleys sing.

We shall reach the outmost furrows,
In their drooping tassels dressed;
Beyond the field of labor,
We shall find a place of rest.
We shall meet again the reapers
Who share our grief and joy;
In the harvest-song of glory,
We shall find one blest employ.

The eagle from her eyrie
Flies forth at dawn of day,
Poised on her fearless pinions,
With God to guide her way,
Soars upward, as the morning
Glows with God's glory bright,
On, till her form, receding,
Loses itself in light.

220

So, when the work is ended,—
The garnered crop secure,—
And God shall bid His reapers
Toil in the heat no more;
We from all care and sorrow
Shall find divine relief,
And lay before our Master
The sickle and the sheaf.

CHRIST, THE CORNER-STONE.

We build on Christ, our Corner-stone,
That Rock of Ages we adore;
Glory shall crown His name alone,
Rock of our faith, eternal, sure!

Each stone we lay shall speak His praise;
And spire and pinnacle shall rise
In solemn grandeur, holy grace,—
A grateful tribute to the skies.

In faith, this corner-stone we lay;
In hope, the house of God we rear.
Here God will answer when we pray;
Jehovah shall be worshipped here.

And when in silent dust we sleep,
This sacred stone shall still record
That we and ours the covenant keep,
That we and ours confess the Lord.

Newton Centre, August 27, 1887.

221

THE REAPERS.

Far o'er the distant mountain ridge
Climbs up the morning ray,
Whose growing light and warmth foretell
The reign of perfect day;
O'er the wide fields the springing grain
Shoots up its verdant threads,
Prophetic of the waving crop,
And the wheat's ripened heads.

Joy for the reapers, when they lay
Their gleaming sickles by;
And countless heaps of precious sheaves
In yellow bundles lie.
From field and home, from plain and hill,
Hasting in joyous throngs,
They make the bright and fragrant air
Echo with grateful songs.

So shall the seed of truth and grace,
Scattered by loving hands,
Harvests of untold wealth produce
In all the earth's broad lands.
The germ, once dropped in fertile soil,
A wondrous yield shall see,
Divinely sown, divinely fraught
With immortality.

222

THE AGED PASTOR.

TO REV. C. A. THOMAS, D. D., BRANDON, VT.

Hail, pastor! with thy honored brow
And age's silver head;
What memories of the loved and lost,
The living and the dead,
Crowd on the thoughts, as time recalls
The scenes of earlier years,
Weaving, like flowers with autumn leaves,
Garlands of joy and tears!

How forty years of life have made
Familiar faces strange!
While history with her pen records
How men and landscapes change;
And near twice forty years, thy steps,
The wreath of cloud and flame
Has led, alternate, proving still
Thy covenant, God, the same.

Hail, pastor! though the years have sped,
Faithful and trusted still;
Trusted, on life's ascending slope,
Faithful, as slants the hill
Declining westward, where the sun
Turns toward the light of even,
And rests among the pillared clouds,
The gateways into heaven.

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We bring no formal incense here;
We speak no empty praise;
We hang not on the grand old oak,
A wreath of heartless bays,—
While thankful memory wanders back
Through all the growing years,
And eyes the busy world has dazed,
Are dimmed with grateful tears.

The wide career our feet have trod;
The tasks of duty done;
The conquered fields, the harvests gained;
The laurels sought and won,—
Are but his life, whose lips have taught
Lessons of love and truth,
Embodied in our riper days,
Taught in our tender youth.

And he whose lips and life alike
Inspired us to be men,
Enshrined in Time's slow-gathering years,
Shall live and move again,
As sculptured bust or painted form,
The boast of ancient days,
Transmitted through all ages, still
Lives for a joy and praise.

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STEWARDSHIP.

[_]

Sung at the opening of the Seaman's Bazaar at Faneuil Hall, Boston, December 22, 1865.

In marts of wealth, in gilded halls,
At power's exalted shrine,
With solemn voice, Jehovah calls,
“This wealth, this power, is mine.”

Grateful, whate'er you need, enjoy,
Of all the bounteous store;
The rest, 't is God's command, employ
To bless His suffering poor.

Give freely, like the fruitful seed;
Give, like the sun and rain,—
Claiming no merit for the deed,
Nor asking aught again.

Those words of love, a rich reward
For every gift shall be,—
“Ye gave it unto Christ the Lord,
Ye gave it unto me.”

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GOD OF THE STARRY WORLDS ABOVE.

INVOCATION BEFORE THE DEDICATION OF A CHURCH.

God of the starry worlds above!
God of Creation's goodly frame!
Glory, Thy robe; Thy nature, love,—
We rear this temple to Thy name.

Come, O Divine Shekinah, come!
God over all, here hold Thy state!
Dwell in this house,—Thy chosen home;
These earthly courts Thy presence wait.

Come, like the peaceful twilight hour;
Come, like the glowing noontide ray.
Come, blessing by Thy glorious power;
Thy light diffuse, Thy grace display.

Come, as the gentle rain distils
On new-mown fields, with quickening power;
Revive us, from the heavenly hills,
As dews revive the fainting flower.

And while our new hosannas here,
With grateful heart and voice, we raise,
Descend in glorious grace, and rear
A living temple to Thy praise.

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COME, O DIVINE SHEKINAH, COME!

DEDICATION HYMN.

Come, O Divine Shekinah, come!
With glory fill this new abode:
Come,—in our waiting souls there's room,—
Display Thy power,—a present God.

Come to our shrine, O God of love,—
Come as a God of love and power;
Refresh Thy people from above,
As dews refresh the drooping flower.

Come as a spring and fount of grace,
Our temple with Thy light adorn,
As crimson rays of glory trace
The gorgeous rising of the morn.

Come as a dove, with wings of peace,
The sad to cheer, the bruised to heal,
The wounds that sin has made, to ease,
The covenant of our life to seal.

Display Thy power, a present God;
Come, in our waiting souls there 's room;
With glory fill this new abode,—
Come, O Divine Shekinah, come!

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DEDICATION OF CARYVILLE CHAPEL.

Come, God the Father, for our hands have reared
This sacred shrine to Thy almighty name;
Come, as, of old, the solemn cloud appeared,
When to the temple veil Thy presence came.

Come, God the Son, display Thy healing power;
Accept our gift, and here set up Thy throne;
Our refuge Thou, our hope, our only tower,
Thy blood our ransom, reign in us alone.

Come, God the Spirit, teach our hearts to bring
Words of true prayer; our human lips inspire;
Thine is the temple, Thine the psalms we sing;
Our hearts are Thine; Thou art our souls' desire.

Come, Father, Son, and Spirit, God alone;
With reverent homage at Thy feet we bow.
We yield to Thee the work our hands have done,—
Our temple stands, its crowning glory, Thou.

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GOD OF THE MOUNTAINS AND THE SEA.

RE-DEDICATION OF SEAMEN'S BETHEL, NOVEMBER 8, 1893.

“The abundance of the sea shall be converted unto Thee.”

God of the mountains and the sea,
Thy grateful people come to Thee,
To offer humble praise and prayer,
Thy love to own,—Thy grace to share.

Come, enter, Lord, our Bethel gates,
The temple for Thy presence waits;
Display Thy power, Thy grace make known;
In every heart erect Thy throne.

We dedicate the house to Thee;
Here let Thy saints Thy glory see,
Thy name to waiting souls reveal,
The contrite soothe, the wounded heal.

Gather from every land and shore
Glad trophies of Thy saving power,
And own the abundance of the sea,
A rightful offering, Lord, to Thee.

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THE FATHERS, WHERE ARE THEY?

While centuries pass with solemn tread,
And kingdoms sink, the Church remains,—
From life's immortal fountain fed,
A light whose glory never wanes.

Where are the fathers? Once they stood
With fervent faith, with armor bright;
Now, gathered with the sons of God,
As stars at morning melt in light.

Here have they worshipped; here they died;
And here their fallen mantles rest;
Though gone from earth, their works abide,
Like sunset glory in the west.

The censers, from their hands we take,
And wave with hallowed incense still;
They sleep in death; their children wake,
The lamps with golden light to fill.

Head of the Church, our All, our Guide,
We own Thy power, we sing Thy grace;
Still to new conquests Thou shalt ride,
And added centuries speak Thy praise.

230

SWEEP ON, O CAR OF LIGHT!

DEDICATION OF THE GOSPEL CAR “EMMANUEL,” IN DENVER, COLORADO, MAY, 1893.

Sweep on, O car of light!
God bless thy holy flight;
On thy wheels bring
Peace to the troubled breast,
And, to the weary, rest;
Glad, for thy mission blest,
The angels sing.

Roll o'er the mountain's height;
Roll to the waters bright,
The distant sea;
Visit the lonely vale,
Outfly the wintry gale;
Thy errand will not fail,
God moves with thee.

Ride on, triumphant Lord!
Thy Spirit and Thy word
Shall speed Thy way.
Scatter the shades of night;
Command, “Let there be light!”
Gird on Thy sword of might,
And win the day.

Salvation's chariot, roll
On, till from pole to pole
Christ reigns alone;

231

Till darkness turns to day,
Till earth shall choose His sway,
And all its trophies lay
Before His throne.

Davenport, Iowa, March, 1893.

FAREWELL TO THE OLD CHURCH.

Dear is each well-remembered face,
Preserved in memory's shrine;
No scene will drive them from their place,
Or dim one precious line.
We linger, chained by love, to-day,
Amid the hallowed past,
And weep, as mournfully we say,—
This hour must be the last.

Here were our early footsteps brought,
And here, in riper years,
Our hearts, with joy or sorrow fraught,
Burdened with doubts and fears,
Like rivers, swollen with floods in spring,
Gushed with repentant grief,
Or felt the power of grace to bring
The needed, sweet relief.

Here pilgrims came, with weary feet,
And sat in pious trust,
And left, their pilgrimage complete,
The memory of the just;

232

We linger in the places where
Their honored footsteps trod,
And trace the path of faith and prayer,
By which they passed to God.

Here we have pledged the solemn vow
To Him who reigns above;
Here learned in humble faith to bow
To Him whose name is Love.
Here have we stood, a grateful band,
Nor sought such bonds to part,—
Dear every brother's faithful hand,
Each sister's loving heart.

As pilgrims, doomed awhile to roam
On some far distant shore,—
Returned to seek their early home,
Their well known cottage-door,—
Mourn for the friends of earlier times,
For many an honored head,—
Some passed, long since, to other climes,
Some, sleeping with the dead,—

Some, rifled of their youthful bloom,
White rose-leaves on their brow,
Some, shadowed o'er by clouds of gloom,—
Alas, how altered now!—
We seek the friends to memory dear,—
How many—but in vain;
Oh, who will bring our loved ones here,
Just as they were, again?

Gone, but not lost,—in nobler spheres,
Redeemed and saved, they shine;

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Each hand a palm of glory bears,
Each brow, a light divine;
And we on earth, and they above,
Led by one Shepherd's hand,
Encircled by one wreath of love,
Form still one blessed band.

'T is done,—we leave the hallowed ground,
But keep what grace has done;
The rushing tide of life has found
New victories to be won;
But, temple, where the saints have prayed,
Where God has deigned to dwell,
How shall we let thy glory fade?
How shall we say “farewell”?

How shall we leave the sacred shrine
Where once our fathers trod;
How darken here the light divine
Of those who walked with God?
With quivering lip, with tearful eye,
With calm, but bleeding heart,
We sit in mournful sympathy,
And breathe the word,—Depart.

But yonder, springs in joyous light,
A temple high and pure;
The tenants, clad in raiment bright,
Shall leave its courts no more;
No night shall darken o'er its wall;
No sigh with anthems blend;
No mourners weep, no shadow fall,—
Its worship never end.

234

Then they that sowed in faith and tears
Shall reap in endless joy;
And saints from all the varied years,
Shall find one glad employ.
Cemented by one bond of love,
Striking one heavenly strain
Our members all shall meet above,
Baldwin Place Church again.

235

THE LIVING CHURCH.

THE ROCK OF AGES.

Built on the Rock of Ages, Lord,
Thy living Church abides secure;
Nations and men may fade away,
Thy work of Grace shall still endure.

This temple, to Thine honor reared,
Waits for Thy crowning presence now;
Accept the work our hands have wrought;
We are but dust,—almighty, Thou.

Here men of God shall speak thy praise;
Treasures of thought be gathered here;
And truth, from living lips dispensed,
Fall, welcome, on the listening ear.

With humble faith, with holy joy,
We lay our gift before Thy face:
'T is dark, but for Thy radiant light;
'T is poor, but for Thy heavenly Grace.

Then let Thy glorious presence, Lord,
O'er all the hallowed work appear;
And let the living record stand,—
The place is holy; God is here.

Sung at the dedication of a church edifice.

236

GOD ALL IN ALL.

God of all grace, supreme, alone;
Thy robe, the light; the heavens, Thy throne;
The winds, Thy voice; Thy path, the sea,—
Reverent, we bow, and worship Thee.

In all Thy works, Thy hand we trace;
Creation does but veil Thy face.
Thy life, our life; Thy warmth, our spring;
Our only rest, Thy sheltering wing.

Thy breath makes every pulse-beat thrill;
We feel the whispers of Thy will;
We come, we go, at Thy command;
We wait the moving of Thy hand.

Plant in our hearts Thy love and fear;
Teach us Thy precepts to revere;
And fashion us, through grace, to be
But living temples meet for Thee.

Sung at Tremont Temple, Boston, February 24, 1890.

DIVINE PROVIDENCE.

DEDICATION HYMN.

Oh, praise ye Jehovah; His glory proclaim!
Bring joyful hosannas to honor His name;
With glad acclamations His altar draw near;
Bow low to His footstool; Jehovah is here.

237

He speaks in creation; He rules o'er the flood,
Through Nature's wide realm the Omnipotent God;
But chooses the temples we build to His praise,
As shrines for His name, and abodes of His grace.

Then come where we wait Thy blessing to prove,
Thou, strong to redeem, and Thou, matchless in love;
Like light breaking forth from the gates of the morn,
May rays from Thy glory this temple adorn!

THE REDEEMER'S TEARS.

'T was at the grave of Lazarus,
The two fond sisters, in their sackcloth robes,
Drenched in affliction, and the godless Jews,
In that one scene made lovely, as they went
To weep with Mary at the sepulchre,
Stood there, a grieving circle. She came forth,
Obedient, e'en in sorrow, to the call
Of Him who called for her. There was no voice
Among the whited stones that pointed out
The home of dead men, and no scenery,
Or sweet, or gorgeous, in the hills or vales
Of loveliest form and hue that spread around them,
To call forth a moment's admiration;
There was one absorbing sense of sorrow,
That burned at the heart's core. The glorious voice
Of Him who raised, triumphant, the dead brother
Had not broke out in holy thanksgiving;
But there they stood, consumed by their deep grief,
And there—there, Jesus wept.

238

The evening sun slanted among the hills
Where Zion's temple shone. Down the descent
Of Olivet a joyous crowd advanced,
Singing hosannas unto Him that came,—
The Son of David, and yet David's Lord,
The prophet of their nation; not as when
Each heart beat sadly, and the silent tears
Stole down the cheeks of all the sorrowing band
At the dead brother's tomb. Now all was gay
And bright. But unto a devoted place,
Cursed as the dwelling of the crucifiers,
The crucifiers of the Lord of life
And glory, they were drawing near. The crowd,
Rejoicing in their city, and the sheen
Of their own glorious temple, pressed their way,
Thoughtless of coming evil. But, behold!
Amid the happy throng one stretched His gaze
Into eternity, soon to receive
The uncomforted inhabitants, whose towers
Were ready to their fall,—the inhabitants
Who knew not when their visitation came;
One gazed in silent sadness as He thought
Upon their coming fate, and Jesus wept.

Wept twice on earth,—once at the tomb of him
Whose sorrowing sisters He had loved; and once,
When He foresaw Jerusalem's dread fate.

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THE LAST SUPPER.

JOHN XIII. 1; XIV. 14, 23, 27.

From the villages retiring,
Burning with a holy flame,
Though His last days were expiring,
Jesus to the city came:
Still His own disciples loving,
He had words of peace to say;
Anxious thoughts His breast were moving
As drew near the farewell day.

Round the sacred table sitting,
When the traitorous foe had gone,
Love their souls more closely knitting,
As the dreadful scene drew on,
Pledges of His love He gave them,
Sweet memorials of His name;
Then declared how He, to save them,
From the Father's bosom came.

Peace I leave—my dying token—
'T is my peace I give to you;
Let the words that I have spoken
Be your trust and comfort too.
For a little while I leave you,
To my Father I must go;
Yet I will not—will not grieve you,
But the Comforter bestow.

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Mansions in yon world of glory,
I am going to prepare;
Though the path be dark and gory,
Ye shall all be with Me there.
Father, let Thy mercy guide them,
Sanctify them by Thy grace;
And, whatever woes betide them,
Let them see Thy smiling face.

GETHSEMANE.

Beyond where Cedron's waters flow,
Behold the suffering Saviour go,
To sad Gethsemane.
His countenance is all divine;
Yet grief appears in every line.

He bows beneath the sins of men;
He cries to God, and cries again,
In sad Gethsemane.
He lifts His mournful eyes above,—
“My Father, can this cup remove?”

With gentle resignation still,
He yielded to His Father's will,
In sad Gethsemane;
“Behold Me here, Thine only Son;
And, Father, let Thy will be done.”

241

The Father heard; and angels, there,
Sustained the Son of God in prayer,
In sad Gethsemane;
He drank the dreadful cup of pain,
Then rose to life and joy again.

When storms of sorrow round us sweep,
And scenes of anguish make us weep,
To sad Gethsemane
We'll look, and see the Saviour there,
And humbly bow, like Him, in prayer.

THE LORD IS RISEN!

The Lord is risen! and angels wait
Around the place where Jesus slept;
'Mid Roman swords and Jewish hate,
Unseen, their loving watch they kept.

The Lord is risen! The guard, the seal,
Conspire to hold their trust, in vain.
He lives! He lives! Before Him kneel!
The Conqueror now, though once the Slain.

The Lord is risen! The timid few
Heard with faint faith the wondrous word;
“Can such deep mystery be true?”
“Where, gardener, hast thou laid my Lord?”

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He looked! He spoke!—His loving word
Made the sad woman's heart rejoice;
“Mary,”—she knew her risen Lord;
“Rabboni,”—'t is the Master's voice!

The Lord is risen!—Death's reign is o'er;
The goal achieved, the victory won.
The Lord is risen! His name adore!
The great atoning work is done!

THE LIVING CHURCH SWEEPS ON.

CENTENNIAL HYMN.

Blest be the ancient men whose feet
Once sought these holy towers;
Blest be the saints whose voices sweet
Hallowed the sacred hours.

Blest be the sires whose Christly speech
In silvery accents flowed;
So skilled to pray, so skilled to preach,—
Men grandly taught of God.

Numbered among the holy dead,
Their forms from earth are gone;
Through all the century's silent tread,
The Living Church sweeps on.

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Have faith in God; His sceptred arm
O'er time and tempest reigns;
His little flock, secure from harm,
Safe on the Rock remains.

God of our fathers, in Thy name
Our banners still we raise;
Thy changeless love, the years proclaim,
And swell Thy sounding praise.

Written for the Church of the Epiphany, New York City, May 10, 1891.

A RICH BEQUEST.

Where are the ancient men who reared
In faith this honored shrine?
Where are the godly souls whose deeds
On this fair record shine?

Joined to yon glorious host on high,—
The heavenly Bridegroom's train;
Choice souls!—to them, to live was Christ,
To them, to die was gain.

The Church, the world, their native land,
They served with noble lives;
Loved and lamented! and their faith,
A rich bequest, survives.

The long procession upward winds
To the celestial shore;
The living, loving, keep the path
The leaders trod before.

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As beams the sun from age to age,
With undiminished blaze,
Lord, may the light they kindled here
Shine ever to Thy praise.

Head of the Church, while rolling years
Their solemn course fulfil,
Smile on the work the fathers wrought,
And bless their children still.

May 9, 1890.

245

CHRISTIAN EXPERIENCE.

THE PRESENT AND THE ETERNAL.

'T is but a step to yon bright world,
The home above the skies;
As evening beauty scarcely pales,
E'er morning's glories rise.

'T is but an hour,—and scenes of grief
Shall change to joy again,
As rainbows crown the passing cloud
With sunlight, after rain.

A tale of woe, a sad farewell,
A shriek of pain or grief,—
'T is but a wave that stirs the air,
A breeze that fans the leaf.

'T is but a shadow, when the sun
Is hid in dim eclipse;
'T is but a frozen dewdrop when
The frost the rose-leaf nips.

The frost dissolves; the dew exhales;
The rose-tree blooms anew;
The shadow passes; burns the sun,
As erst, in heaven's bright blue.

246

'T is but a night when darkness rules,
And mortals tread uncertain;
Quick comes the dawn, and beaming morn
Pours sunlight through the curtain.

Not time, nor space, nor work shall e'er
Love's clasping tendrils sever;
As clinging vines still upward climb,
And, climbing, cling forever.

O blessed bond of loving hearts;
Blest union, never broken;
Blest land, where tears are never shed,
And farewells never spoken!

Through joy and grief, through pain and death,
We tread towards heaven's high portal,
And yield, unmoved, the things that change,
For flowers and fruits immortal.

November 7, 1866.

DESPONDENCY.

The clouds of affliction and pain
Have shrouded in mourning the sky;
Thick darkness conceals all the plain,
And tempests are hurrying by.
I cry out, with sorrow o'erwhelmed,
While tears from my weeping eyes break;
When shall I with sorrow be done;
Oh, when in Thy likeness awake?

247

Yet 't is not my friends that I mourn,—
I weep not that loved ones retire;
I grieve not that I am forlorn,
And earthly enjoyments expire.
My Saviour! my Saviour! my God!
Why dost Thou my spirit forsake?
Oh, when shall I throw off my load?
Oh, when in Thy likeness awake?

The winds of temptation arise,
And howl o'er my pathway of night;
The cloud never moves from the skies,
To show the blest beaming of light.
With madness I rush into sin,
Then grief comes, my poor heart to break;
When shall I be sinful no more?
Oh, when in Thy likeness awake?

Oh, when shall my Sabbaths again
Be sweet and delightful to me?
When shall I, my Saviour, obtain
Communion of spirit with Thee?
This darkness and dulness I long,
I long from my bosom to shake;
When shall I to gladness return?
Oh, when in Thy likeness awake?

My Saviour! my Saviour! I wait,
I wait till Thy glory arise;
I watch at Thy merciful gate,
Till light bursts again from the skies.
Then gladness shall swell in my breast,
No more these complaints shall I make;
But calmly my spirit shall rest,
And I, in Thy likeness, awake.

248

CONSECRATION.

'T was God who heard when hope was dying;
'T was God who made me look and live.
He saw me to His covenant flying,
And condescended to forgive.

From long distress and thoughts of anguish,
He gave my spirit sweet release;
No more in sorrow left to languish,
My bosom now has perfect peace.

Tell me, dear Saviour, what oblation
To Heaven's high altar shall I bring?
What sacrifice for such salvation,
To Thee my life, my God, my King?

My soul, myself, my all, I give Thee,
Forever to be Thine alone;
And let my praise—for Thou art worthy—
Swell in rich numbers to Thy throne.

Accept my service, blessed Spirit.
Till I my course on earth have sped;
Then let me endless life inherit,
Still onward by Thy guidance led.

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IMPORTUNITY IN PRAYER.

“LET ME GO, FOR THE DAY BREAKETH.”

Go? When the promise stands,
That a faithful God will hear!
Go? when the Intercessor's voice
Sounds in the Almighty's ear!
Go? When my inmost spirit breaks,
For the longing it hath for Thee!
Oh, no! the Blessed shall not go,
Until He blesses me!

There is life in the gracious God,—
A fountain that cannot fail;
A gentle hand that can wipe the tear,
And soothe the contrite wail.
There is One who can speak the word,
And the blind shall rise and see;
Oh, then, the Blessed shall not go,
Until He blesseth me!

Yes, ashes and dust may plead
With the Holy One above;
And the earnest prayer ascend
To the God whose name is Love;
Angels may not be sent
In their heavenly ministry,—
But the Blessed shall never go,
Until He blesseth me.

250

My spirit glows in faith,
My heart in strong desire;
And God will come—will come
Ere the lamp of life expire.
Thou wilt not desert, I know,
The heart that clings to Thee;
Oh, no! the Blessed will not go,
Until He blesseth me!

FAR FROM EARTH.

Far from earth retreating,
From its scenes so fleeting,
Lord, I come to Thee.
From Thy glorious dwelling,
Where heaven's joys are welling,
Saviour, look on me!
Let Thy light
Dispel my night;
Let Thy holy peace come o'er me,
While I bend before Thee.

Worldly hopes, I speak not,
Worldly good, I seek not,
Here before Thy throne;
Let Thy Spirit, shining,
Come, from sin refining;
Let Thy blood atone.
From my heart
Let earth depart,
Every idol object sever;
In me reign forever.

251

Lord, behold me waiting,
Freely consecrating
All I have to Thee;
Near Thy cross abiding,
In Thy love confiding,
Longing Thine to be.
Come, then, come,
My heart illume;
Make my soul Thy Spirit's dwelling,
Rebel thoughts expelling.

Grace has made me willing,—
Grace, my spirit filling;
Lord, the praise be Thine;
When, with free salvation,
Saved from condemnation,
Near Thy throne I shine,
Then the strain
Shall swell again,—
Glory to Thy love, blest Saviour!
Reign, O reign, forever!

PASSING ON, PASSING UP.

Passing on, passing up, to the platform of life,
Its honors, its trials, its glory, its strife;
Passing on, passing up, as day follows on day,—
Passing on, passing up, and then, passing away.

The honored, the cherished, the good, have passed on,
Like morning stars, lost in the glow of the sun,—
The seal on their virtues, in safety their fame,
No stain on their record, no blot on their name.

252

The silver-tongued prophet sleeps silent, aside;
The statesman lies low in his manhood's young pride;
Our comrades in toil have passed on before,—
Passing on, passing up, to the heavenly shore.

Still the flag of distress, in our sight, is unfurled;
Still waits for the sickle, the field of the world;
Still high on the tower where the herald has been,
Is emblazoned the call, “Wanted, Christians, and men!”

O men for the times! with heart and with hands,
Go, toil where the Master your labor demands;
And, faithful, toil on, till the close of the day,—
Passing onward and upward, and passing away.

May, 1868.

THY WILL, O LORD, BE DONE.

Thy way, O God, is best,—
Thy way, not mine;
Patient beneath Thy rod,
Quick to obey Thy nod,
Because Thou art my God,—
Thy way, not mine.

I know Thy wise design;
Thy will is mine.
From earthly dross refine,
Shape to the mould divine,
My soul shall ne'er repine,—
Thy will, not mine.

Clay in the potter's hand,
Thy will is mine.

253

'T is Thine, the vase to make,
Or Thine, dear Lord, to break;
Thine, or to give, or take,—
Thy will, not mine.

Sorrow, or joy, be sent,—
Thy will is mine;
In all, Thy love I see;
Whate'er my lot may be,
I trust my all to Thee,—
Thy will is mine.

March 30, 1892.

YE ARE NOT YOUR OWN.

Oh, not my own these verdant hills,
And fruits and flowers, and stream and wood;
But His, who all with glory fills,
Who bought me with His precious blood!

Oh, not my own this wondrous frame,
Its curious work, its living soul;
But His, who for my ransom came,
Slain for my sake,—He claims the whole!

Oh, not my own, the grace that keeps
My feet from fierce temptations free!
Oh, not my own, the thought that leaps,
Adoring, blessed Lord, to Thee!

Oh, not my own! I'll soar and sing,
When life, and all its toils, are o'er;
And Thou Thy trembling lamb shalt bring
Safe home,—to wander never more!

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ALL THINGS ARE YOURS.

All that is pleasant to the eye,—
The earth with all her stores,
The glowing sun, the rainbow's dye,—
All present things are yours.

The throne where all the holy bow;
The mansions where they rest;
The sweet, refreshing gales that blow;
The raptures of the blest;

The harp, the robes, the diadem;
The never-fading flowers;
Heaven's shaded walks and living stream,—
All coming things are yours!

All things are yours, for Jesus dwells
Within your glowing heart;
And many a raptured feeling tells,
He never will depart.

All things are yours, and Christ is God's!
Tho' grief your day obscures,
Soon you shall see heaven's bright abode,
And know that all is yours!

255

A PRESENT HELP IN TROUBLE.

When God is near,
O heart with sorrow swelling,
Pour out thy grief, thy tale of anguish telling;
And love will wipe each flowing tear,
When God is near.

When God comes nigh,
Peace quells the soul's commotion,
And sheds the sweet serene of calm devotion;
And every cloud of grief must fly,
When God comes nigh.

When God comes near,
Let every heart receive Him;
Slight not the Spirit's call, nor dare to grieve Him;
“The still small voice,” be wise to hear,
When God is near.

When God is nigh,
Covet not earthly pleasure,
But seek in heaven an ever-during treasure;
Each tear is seen, and heard each sigh,
When God is nigh.

256

THERE'S REST FOR THEE.

There's rest for thee,
Fond heart, who life art wasting.
Remit thy eager search of earth-born bliss;
The Saviour seek—true fount of happiness.
Flee to that refuge while thy days are hasting!

There 's peace for thee;
Whose heart is all commotion,
The voice of Christ can calm the troubled sea.
Forsake thy sins, and to His covenant flee,
And sweet shall be thy course o'er life's rough ocean.

There 's hope for thee,
Whose soul is rent with sadness.
With humble trust thy all to Jesus give;
Give Him thy heart, for Him resolve,
Then, on thy night, shall rise the star of gladness.

There 's life for thee,
Who, weary with delaying,
Shalt haste to Jesus, while He waits to save,
Who for thy life His life so freely gave,—
The sacred call of love at once obeying.

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ALL ONE IN CHRIST.

All one in Christ,—though, plains and hills dividing,
Our earthly homes are far asunder placed;
All one in Christ,—in Him our souls abiding,
O'er the broad earth or on the ocean waste.

All one in Christ,—bound in divine communion,
And He the cynosure,—the changeless Word.
One Sovereign rules; the watchword of our union,
One faith, one baptism, and one risen Lord.

All one in Christ,—should grief, or joy, betide us;
Or health, or sickness, life, or death, be ours,—
His word shall cheer, His loving hand shall guide us,
His name revive, like incense-breathing flowers.

All one in Christ,—His voice the fiercest battle,
Like Galilee's wild waves, can quell and calm;
Assuage the tumult, still the tempest's rattle,
For pain give ease, for waiting, victory's psalm.

All one in Christ,—man's passions, like the billow,
May roar and dash around with frightful shock;
Held in His leash, light as the air-swept willow,
They lash in vain the Everlasting Rock.

All one in Christ,—our paths, in varied winding,
May seem unheeding of Heaven's grand accord;
The rills of life, new channels ever finding,
Shall all converge in Him, our loving Lord.

258

All one in Christ,—life's discipline and rasping
May fret, and grind, and wear the sufferer down;
But there's a gracious Hand, the faint form clasping,—
The cross to-day; be patient, then the crown.

All one in Christ,—the fields must have their tilling;
O'er earth, His heritage, for Him we roam;
With ready hands we toil, and spirit willing,
Till the great Husbandman shall call us home.

All one in Christ,—soon will the great forever
Yield to the weary workers needed rest;
Toil waste no more, and sorrow grieve,—no, never,—
The loved disciple on the Master's breast.

FOLLOWING CHRIST.

With willing hearts we tread
The path the Saviour trod;
We love the example of our Head,
The glorious Lamb of God.

On Thee, on Thee alone,
Our hope and faith rely,—
O Thou, who didst for sin atone,
Who didst for sinners die!

We trust Thy sacrifice;
To Thy dear cross we flee.
Oh, may we die to sin, and rise
To life and bliss with Thee.

259

CHRISTIAN FELLOWSHIP.

Planted in Christ, the living vine,
This day with one accord,
Ourselves, with humble faith and joy,
We yield to Thee, O Lord!

Joined in one body may we be;
One inward life partake;
One be our heart; one heavenly hope
In every bosom wake!

In prayer, in effort, tears, and toils,
One wisdom be our guide;
Taught by one Spirit from above,
In Thee may we abide.

Complete in us, whom grace hath called,
Thy glorious work begun,—
O Thou, in whom the Church on earth,
And Church in heaven, are one!

Around this feeble, trusting band,
Thy sheltering pinions spread,
Nor let the storms of trial beat
Too fiercely on our head!

Then, when, among the saints in light,
Our joyful spirits shine,
Shall anthems of immortal praise,
O Lamb of God, be Thine!

260

JESUS IS PASSING BY.

“THE RESOLVE.”

The voice of joyful ones I hear,
It warbles sweet and high;
Arise, my soul, the Lord is near,—
Jesus is passing by!

Long have I waited at the pool;
Why should I longer stay?
Come, Saviour, make my spirit whole;
My Saviour, come away!

No longer will I, listless, wait;
No more, excuses frame;
No more with earth and sin debate;
No more Thy goodness blame.

The world no more shall have my heart;
I will rebel no more;
From cherished sin, to-day, I part,
And sparing Love adore.

The chief of sinners, Lord! I come,
And cast myself on Thee;
Thou art the weary wanderer's home,—
My home, dear Saviour, be!

The work is done; my God is mine,—
Glory to God! I sing;
Jesus, the glory all be Thine;
Let all creation ring!

261

A FORETASTE OF HEAVEN.

Blest be the sacred tie that binds
All Christian hearts in one;
Blest be the fellowships of earth,—
The joy of heaven begun.

Blest be the scenes, the sacred scenes,
When tears forget to start;
When soul, to happy soul, responds,
And heart, to Christian heart.

Blest be the hours, the sacred hours,
Foretaste of bliss above;
Each speaking eye, each throbbing pulse,
Speaks, throbs, with Christian love.

Dear antepast of joys to come!
Earth hails the radiant glow;
Light from that world illumines this,
And heaven is felt below.

October 12, 1886.

ABOUNDING MERCY.

AFTER TWO HUNDRED YEARS.

Oh! sing to the praise of the Saviour above,
Unchanging His wisdom, immortal His love;
Extolled be His mercy, and hallowed His name,
Who dwelt in the pillar of cloud and of flame.

262

His hand through the desert has guided our way,
Our shelter by night, and our glory by day;
The fathers are garnered at rest in the grave,—
But Jesus still triumphs, almighty to save.

The harvests are waving, as waves the ripe grain,
Fruit, once sown in tears, of the centuries twain;
The billows no more beat with furious shock;
The Church safely stands on its basis of rock.

More ages, still following, their circuit shall run;
More gems light the crown which our Saviour has won;
More trophies of grace to their Lord shall be given,—
Then echo the Jubilee anthem in heaven.

UP! YE SAINTS!

FROM THE GERMAN.

Up! ye saints, and raise
Songs of grateful praise;
While your hearts are warm,
While, in calm or storm,
River, hill, and tree,
You, your God can see,
All the glories showing
Of His love o'erflowing!

Once you trod the path
Leading on to death;
With the Spirit strove,
Scorned His offered love,

263

And, with wicked hands,
Burst His sacred bands.
All this He forgave you;
How He longed to save you!

Light, He sweetly shed,—
Peace about you spread;
O'er the guilty soul
Bade salvation roll.
Cleansed your heart from sin,
Kindly entered in;—
Scattered all your sadness,
Filled your souls with gladness!

Tell your joys abroad!
Praise your Saviour, God!
Sinful wanderers bring
From their wandering,
Back to Him, who knows
All their wants and woes,—
Joyfully returning
While His love is yearning.

Then, what glories wait
Your celestial state!
Ever ye shall shine,
Clothed in light divine,
Where the ransomed sing,
And glad voices ring,—
While each spirit raises
Never-ending praises!

264

SALVATION.

What peace is this that springs within my mind;
What light and joy, where all was dark and blind?
How lovely all creation looks to me!
Tell me, my soul, can this Salvation be?

My weight of guilt has hasted all away;
I cannot make one thought of sadness stay;
From God, in terror, I no longer flee,—
Tell me, my soul, can this Salvation be?

All Nature seems to echo, “God is love!”
Sweet voice! it rings around me and above;
That glorious God, my spirit sighs to see,—
Tell me, my soul, can this Salvation be?

Ye men of God, I love your blest retreat;
I love your names; converse with you is sweet;
To dwell in God's dear house, is bliss to me,—
Tell me, my soul, can this Salvation be?

O blessed, gracious Saviour, well I know,
'T is from Thy love these fond emotions flow;
'T is from Salvation's fount, so full and free,
These joys, so pure and grateful, come to me.

While to the cross, my heart, dependent, clings,
“Glory to God!” my happy spirit sings.
No storms of earth my pleasure can impair;
Peace fills my bosom,—peace is rooted there.

265

THE TRUSTING SOUL.

PSALM XCI.

The man who dwells
Beneath Thy shade, Most High,
Shall in Thy love abide;
Thy grace dispels
His fears, when storms are nigh;
Thou dost His footsteps guide.
The Lord from pestilence will guard Thee,
And no temptation shall retard thee;
'T is God that heals.

Beneath His wing
Thy steadfast soul shall trust;
His truth shall be thy shield,
Tho' death should bring
His thousands to the dust,
And fainting hope should yield;
Tho' dark disease should hover by thee,
No hurtful damp shall e'er come nigh thee,
Nor sorrow sting.

Because thy heart
Hath made its refuge God,
No woe shall thee befall;
No poisoned dart,
No desolating rod,
Shall mix thy life with gall;
But angels in their hands shall bear thee
Above the foes that would ensnare thee,
And peace impart.

266

Because the soul
Hath set on Me his love,
I will from danger save;
And peace shall roll
By him whom I approve,
Its soft and soothing wave,
His voice shall call, and I will hear him,
And in his trouble will be near him
Till joy be full.

BLEST BE THE HOLY BANDS.

Blest be the holy bands,
Uniting hearts and hands,—
One chain of love;
One life, one hope, one aim;
One faith in one blest Name;
Our Rock, our God, the same,
Below, above.

Cleansed by atoning blood,
Washed in one healing flood,
One God we own;
Ours, to accept His word,
Ours, to obey our Lord,
Making, with glad accord,
Our hearts His throne.

The whispering pine and palm
Shall blend in one sweet psalm,
Dear Lord, to Thee;

267

We seek the world to save;
We form one army brave,
As thousand drops, one wave,
All streams, one sea.

Glory to God our King!
Saviour, Thy kingdom bring,
Thy will be done;
Exert Thy glorious might,
Put all Thy foes to flight;
Triumphant, claim Thy right,
And wear Thy crown.

Reception at Richmond, Va., of 500 New England guests, May, 1886.

BLEST BE THE BONDS OF CHRISTIAN LOVE.

Blest be the bonds of Christian love
That bind our hearts in one;
Blest foretaste of the bliss above,—
Our heaven on earth begun.

Kindred in Christ, our hopes we rest,
Alike on His dear name;
One love inspires each throbbing breast,—
Our covenant-vows, the same.

Our prayers from many hearts ascend,—
One cloud before the throne;
Our many grateful voices blend
In one harmonious tone.

So joy for joy, and tear for tear,
And grace for grace is given;
So the glad harvest, ripened here,
Shall crown our love in heaven.

268

A CENTENARY HYMN.

We reap to-day the glorious fruit
Of labor, prayers, and tears,
And, joyful, sing the precious root,
Strong with its hundred years.

In cold and heat, in calm and storm,
The thickening fibres spread,—
Modelled in heaven, its life and form
With heavenly juices fed.

And far o'er all these sunny slopes,
The outstretched boughs expand;
True to the fathers' early hopes,
It shades and fills the land.

Honored and loved, where none molests,—
His labor finished well,—
The noble planter calmly rests,
Where first the fruitage fell.

And still the healing branches toss,
And still its head it rears,
Feels no decay, and shows no loss,
Strong with its hundred years.

Come from the weary toil and strife,
And sit beneath the shade;
And hail it, like the tree of life,
Whose leaf shall never fade.

For the First Baptist Church, Haverhill, Mass., 1865.

269

MISSIONARY HYMNS AND ODES.

PRAYER FOR THE HEATHEN.

God of the ocean and the shore,
Thy law we love, Thy name adore!
Let the abundance of the sea,
Be, Lord, converted unto Thee!

Through every ship that cleaves the wave,
Proclaim Thy love, Thy power to save;
From tropic seas to either pole,
Loudly let Heaven's sweet anthem roll!

Speak, Lord, and o'er the stormy flood,
Thy name shall swell, Thy peace shall brood,
Thy praise shall ring from every voice,
And distant climes in Thee rejoice!

Then land and sea, then flood and shore,
Through man redeemed, shall bless Thy power;
And earth and sea and heaven shall own
Salvation's glorious triumph won!

270

HERALDS OF SALVATION.

Go, heralds of Salvation, forth;
Go, in your heavenly Master's name,
From east to west, from south to north,
The glorious Gospel, wide proclaim!

Go, bid the thirsty desert bloom;
Go, bid the weary spirit rest;
Go, seek the wanderers through the gloom,
And guide them to the Saviour's breast!

Go forth, to sow the living seed;
Seek not earth's praise, nor dread its frown;
Nor labors fear, nor trials heed;
Win jewels for Immanuel's crown!

Lo! I am with you, saith the Lord;
My grace your spirit shall sustain;
Strong is My arm, and sure My word;
My servants shall not toil in vain.

Go forth in hope; My burden take,
Till God's great reaping-day shall come;
Then, they who sowed in tears shall wake,
And hail the joyful harvest home!

271

THE MISSIONARY ANGEL.

Onward speed thy conquering flight,
Angel, onward speed!
Cast abroad thy radiant light,
Bid the shades recede;
Tread the idols in the dust;
Heathen fanes destroy;
Spread the Gospel's holy trust,—
Spread the Gospel's joy!

Onward speed thy conquering flight;
Angel, onward haste!
Quickly on each mountain's height
Be thy standard placed;
Let thy blissful tidings float
Far o'er vale and hill,
Till the sweetly echoing note
Every bosom thrill!

Onward speed thy conquering flight,
Angel, onward fly!
Long has been the reign of night,
Bring the morning nigh;
'T is to thee the heathen lift
Their imploring wail;
Bear them Heaven's holy gift,
Ere their courage fail!

Onward speed thy conquering flight,
Angel, onward speed!

272

Morning bursts upon our sight,—
'T is the time decreed.
Jesus now His kingdom takes,—
Thrones and empires fall;
And the joyous song awakes,
“God is all in all!”

GOD BE WITH THEE.

Go with Thy servant, mighty Lord!
Attend his work with power divine;
Gird him with strength to preach Thy word,
And round him make Thy glory shine!

Before his face prepare the way,
And put the idol gods to shame;
Touch with Thy fire the lips of clay,
And magnify Thy saving name!

Bid, where he treads, the desert bloom;
Guide with Thy hand his unknown way;
Scatter the clouds of grief and gloom,
And change the darkness into day!

Triumphant Prince, gird on Thy sword;
Tread all the powers of darkness down;
Almighty, re-ascended Lord,
Assert Thy power, and wear Thy crown!

273

CHRIST'S DISCIPLES DIVIDE THE FIELD.

Before each of the first three verses, the following recitative is rendered.

“And I heard the voice of the Lord saying, ‘Whom shall I send, and who will go for us?’”

Response by Some Destined to Foreign Lands.

From dear New England's happy shore,
Where all our kindred dwell,
We hasten, to return no more,—
Our native land, farewell!

Response by Others Destined to Domestic Missions.

And we, where seldom on the ear
Salvation's tidings swell,
Go forth, to dry the mourner's tear,—
Our pleasant home, farewell!

Response by Others Destined to Home-Service.

Where all our earthly friendships blend,
Bound by affection's spell,
We, in God's work, our lives will spend,—
Brothers, a short farewell!

All, in Unison.

From these dear cherished scenes we go,
The home of praise and prayer,
To meet earth's gladness, or earth's woe,
For Christ, to do and bear.

274

Farewell, beloved, who shared our joy,
In whose fond hearts we dwell;
A noble work shall now employ
All that we are—farewell.

Brethren, we press the parting hand,
Our songs of parting tell;
Then, till we reach Heaven's holy land,
A sweet, but brief, farewell!

Anniversary, Andover Theological Seminary, September, 1832.

THE MISSIONARY'S FAREWELL.

Yes, my native land, I love thee;
All thy scenes, I love them well;
Friends, connections, happy country,
Can I bid you all farewell?
Can I leave you,
Far in heathen lands to dwell?

Home, thy joys are passing lovely,
Joys no stranger heart can tell;
Happy home, indeed I love thee,
Can I, can I say, “Farewell”?
Can I leave thee,
Far in heathen lands to dwell?

Scenes of sacred peace and pleasure,
Holy days, and Sabbath bell,
Richest, brightest, sweetest treasure,
Can I say a last farewell?
Can I leave you,
Far in heathen lands to dwell?

275

Yes, I hasten from you gladly,—
From the scenes I loved so well;
Far away, ye billows, bear me.
Lovely, native land, farewell;
Pleased I leave thee,
Far in heathen lands to dwell.

In the deserts let me labor;
On the mountains let me tell
How He died—the blessed Saviour—
To redeem a world from hell;
Let me hasten,
Far in heathen lands to dwell.

Bear me on, thou restless ocean;
Let the winds my canvas swell;
Heaves my heart with warm emotion,
While I go far hence to dwell.
Glad, I bid thee,
Native land, farewell! farewell!

LIGHT O'ER THE HILLS.

MISSIONARY HYMN.

Light o'er the hills! Light o'er the hills
The promised morning wakes;
The day foretold by seers of old
In wondrous glory breaks.

They come! The Saviour's voice they hear,
And, glad, His call obey,
Chosen in Christ, His name to wear,
A nation in a day.

276

Ride on! ride on, victorious Prince!
Ride on, triumphant King!
From land and sea, from earth and heaven,
Thy myriad trophies bring.

So gather all the tribes of earth,
To hear and heed Thy call,
Till man, submissive, at Thy feet,
Shall crown Thee, Lord of all!

THY KINGDOM COME, IMMORTAL KING!

MISSIONARY HYMN.

Thy kingdom come, immortal King!
Thy right maintain, Thy power display;
Earth's myriads to Thy footstool bring;
Make all the nations own Thy sway!

Come, with the eagle's daring flight,
Conquer the hosts of death and sin;
Flood the whole globe with holy light,
O kingdom of our God, come in!

Come as the swelling tides that break
In mighty waves on every strand;
Kingdom of God, in triumph wake
O'er every sea, o'er every land!

We wait Thy breath, immortal Dove!
Speak to earth's woes Thy healing word;
Come, wafted on the wings of love,
Make all the nations own Thee, Lord!

277

Thy kingdom come!—rise, Saviour, rise!
Assume Thy power, ascend Thy throne,
Till universal Nature cries,
“Strike the glad hour,—the work is done!”

PRINCE OF PEACE, OH, COME!

Earth waits Thy advent, Prince of Peace,—
Oh, come, with power divine!
O'er every sea, o'er every land,
Bid the blest Gospel shine!

Like myriad drops of morning dew—
Each drop, a sparkling gem—
Transfuse with light unnumbered souls,
To grace Thy diadem.

Before Thy throne, triumphant Lord,
Let willing captives bend,
And men of every name and tongue,
Their hallelujahs blend.

Then shall the Great High Priest, this globe,
A fragrant censer, swing,
And praise, from every smoking pore,
Like incense sweet shall spring.

From hill to echoing hill, the shout
Of victory shall resound,—
While hosts to answering hosts proclaim
The Lord, with glory crowned.

278

TO A DEPARTING MISSIONARY.

O. S. C.

The ship floats bravely on the sea,
The perfumed breezes play,
And many a fervent prayer is breathed
To speed her on her way.

She bears the merchant's golden wealth
To Asia's burning shore;
She bears a dearer burden far,
That comes to us no more.

She bears the friends we long have loved,
The friends we long have known;
“Farewell,”—perhaps no more to meet,
Till life's bright hours have flown.

Yet, ye will find, beyond the waves,
Some noble Christian bands,—
Heroes, with pure and loving hearts,
And wise and faithful hands.

We meet again,—no farewell tear,
In heaven, is ever shed;
We meet again,—no farewell prayer,
In heaven, is ever said.

We meet where all is joy and peace,
Where throbs no thrill of pain;
We meet in heaven, where all is bliss,
And never part again.

279

WELCOME TO A RETURNING MISSIONARY.

[_]

Sung at the return of Mrs. Harriet Carpenter from her mission-field in Japan.

When the scarred hero from the field
Of mortal strife retires to rest,
Glad greetings from a grateful throng,
With heart and voice, pronounce him blest.

So thee, O Christian warrior, now
Our souls with a high welcome greet;
And thou shalt all thy trophies lay,
Tribute of love, at Jesus's feet.

Welcome the Christian heart, which throbs
With loving purpose, strong and brave,
Burning to see the Lord enthroned,
The strayed to seek, the lost to save.

Triumphant Prince, Thy power display,
Till all mankind shall heed Thy call,
And earth, redeemed, with glad accord,
Shall crown Thee, King and Lord of all.

September, 1893.

280

THE KING OF GLORY.

[_]

Written for Mrs. M. B. Ingalls, of Thongze, Burmah, and sung at her “Burmah Curio Exposition,” held in Boston.

Haste to the conquest of the world,
O King with glory crowned!
Gather Thy trophies far and wide,
Wherever man is found.

Ride in swift triumph o'er the earth;
Lift up Thy sceptred hand;
Thine is the kingdom, Thine the right,—
Ride forth, o'er sea and land.

Then round the conquered world Thy praise
In waves on waves shall ring,
And shore to shore, and sea to sea,
In answering chorus sing.

Adoring thousands at Thy feet,
In faith and love, shall fall;
And countless souls, redeemed from sin,
Shall call Thee Lord of all.

Then he that sowed in patient hope,
Through all the weary years,
Shall find, at last, abundant sheaves,
And joy, for toil and tears.

281

THE LONE STAR.

[_]

At the Anniversary of the Missionary Union in Albany, New York, in 1868, it was proposed by some to abandon what was called the “Lone Star” mission in Nellore, India. Dr. Smith, then the guest of Judge Harris, being asked his opinion, in the evening, quietly replied, “You have it here,” handing him the following verses. The poem was read to the audience the next morning, without consulting the author, who happened not to be present. Some wept, some sobbed; and the mission was saved. That mission, soon afterwards developed into the largest band of communicants, under one charge, in the world. The poem entitled Faith's Victory records the fulfilment of the prophetic words of the “Lone Star” poem. At a subsequent visit of the poet and his wife to that mission they were hailed with a joyous welcome. Each planted a palm-tree still respectively called by the native Christians, “Dr. Smith” and “Mrs. Smith.”

Shine on, “Lone Star!” Thy radiance bright
Shall spread o'er all the eastern sky;
Morn breaks apace from gloom and night,—
Shine on, and bless the pilgrim's eye.

Shine on, “Lone Star!” I would not dim
The light that gleams with dubious ray;
The lonely star of Bethlehem
Led on a bright and glorious day.

Shine on, “Lone Star!” In grief and tears,
And sad reverses, oft baptized;
Shine on amid thy sister spheres:
Lone stars in heaven are not despised.

Shine on, “Lone Star!” Who lifts his hand
To dash to earth so bright a gem,
A new lost “Pleiad” from the band
That sparkles in night's diadem?

282

Shine on, “Lone Star!” The day draws near
When none shall shine more fair than thou;
Thou, born and nursed in doubt and fear,
Wilt glitter on Immanuel's brow.

Shine on, “Lone Star,” till earth, redeemed,
In dust shall bid its idols fall,
And thousands, where thy radiance beamed,
Shall crown the Saviour Lord of all.

FAITH'S TRIUMPH.

Weary and wan, his furrows long,
The patient ploughman trod,
Turning, with endless care and pains,
The sluggish, barren sod;
And morning came, and daylight went,
And strength and hope were gone,
The tearful eyes grew dim,—and still
The wearying toil went on.

Smitten beneath the burning sun,
The fainting workman cries,
“Master, how long this iron earth?
How long these brazen skies?”
“Ploughman, toil on in loving trust;
Yield thee to My sweet will.
Faith wins its victories; weary soul,
Believe, and labor still.”

283

And tears and love and faith prepared
The deeply furrowed field,
To hide and keep the precious grain,—
Seed of a bounteous yield;
And dew and rain and sunny skies
Enriched each seed that fell,
Lost to the eye of man, but God
Knew how to guard it well.

Oh, long and sad the sower's care,
As seasons went and came!
And God forgot the toiler's lot,
And put his hope to shame.
“Vain work,” a timid faith proclaimed;
“Poor toilers, faint and few!
Bury and hide your useless seed;
Bury the sowers, too.”

But God's great mystery of grace
Its mighty pathway holds,
And, like the budding rose of June,
In beauteous life unfolds.
The bursting germ, the verdant leaf,
Break forth from hidden graves;
And far o'er all the swelling hills,
The joyful harvest waves.

Whence are these myriad forms that bow
Before Messiah's throne?
Whence the grand chorus that uplifts
Thy name, O Christ, alone?
Whence are the clustering clouds that seek
The same celestial goal?
And one new song holds every lip,
One pulse-beat, every soul.

284

These are the ploughman's garnered wealth,
Born of his toil and pain;
These are the sower's faith and tears,
Transformed to golden grain.
God watched the toilers at their work;
And, when His wisdom willed,
The pledge His loving heart had made,
His loving hand fulfilled.

Then hail, Lone Star! of all the wreath,
Thou art the brighest gem,
As once, o'er fair Judea's plains,
The Star of Bethlehem.
Shine on! We learn to pray and wait,
To toil and trust, through thee,—
A star of triumph on Christ's brow,
And faith's high victory.

THE WORD OF GOD GLORIFIED.

O blessed word of God, thy living ray
Turns shade to sunshine, light to heavenly day;
Dispels earth's sorrow, calms the troubled breast,
And guides the pilgrim to the endless rest;
Explains life's mystery, and shines through woe,
As threatening clouds with sunset radiance glow;
Breaks with its joy earth's wintry gloom and night,
And turns its sable robes to bridal white.
Go forth, great word of God, thy force display;
Convert the world,—a nation in a day.
Teach China's millions, saved, on God to call,
And crown the living Saviour, Lord of all.

285

Light from God's truth gilds all thy isles, Japan,
Light, born in heaven, for universal man;
And flashing oars on all the crystal flood
Gleam with the radiance of the word of God.
Rise with thy light, and pour thy healing beam
On all the hills, by every winding stream,
Where the proud Burmans to their idols bow,
Hearing, with hardened neck, and lofty brow,
When men of holy heart and loving speech,
Man's only hope, in earnest accents, preach;
In India's myriad tongues let God's blest words
Proclaim the glory of the Lord of lords;
And all its tribes, in heaven's new song, proclaim
The love and power of Christ's own saving name.
In Afric's central heart new triumphs win;
And bid the Congo, found at last, begin
To seek new hope; to learn, on bended knee,
New lore of truth, and Heaven's blest mystery.
While haughty Moslem sees the crescent pale
Before the cross, whose empire ne'er shall fail,
But make its broad domains through love extend,
One reign o'er all the earth, one kingdom without end.

THE LIVING BREAD.

O thou whose voice the tempest stilled,
And made the wild waves calm,
Whose hand, with gentle touch, had power
To heal, like Gilead's balm,—

Speak to the storm-tossed sons of earth,
And draw their hearts to Thee;
And let Thy healing touch redeem
The wanderers of the sea.

286

Renew Thy miracle of love,—
Thyself, “The living Bread;”
Arise and let the fainting throngs,
On ship and shore, be fed.

Ride forth in glory,—land and wave
Thy mandate shall obey,
And all the peopled earth, redeemed,
Shall own Thy rightful sway.

JEHOVAH REIGNS.

Swiftly the years roll on; so swiftly comes
The day when every nation unto God
Shall swell Salvation's song. From the far South
The scented breezes bring a welcome voice
Upon their wings,—the voice of many tongues,
Asking of Christ and heaven. The western fields,
Far stretching towards the setting sun, send back,
From all the busy hum of gathering tribes,
The call for men of God. The frozen North,
With her sparse nations, and the swarming East,
Have heard that Christ for man was lifted up.
The story, simply told on some stray leaf,
That came, they know not whence, wakens a thrill
Of deep responsive feeling. There's a chord
That answers in the human breast to all
The word of God declares. As for the light
The eye is formed, and for the eye the light,—
So for the heart of man the words of life;
And for those words the human heart was made.

287

They send their soothing cry o'er ocean's waste;
The voice is heard above the roaring storm
Of earth's wild bustle. Many a stolid ear
Erects itself to hear; and many a heart
Cries in its fervor,—“I will go and tell
The dark idolater the way to God.”

O ye of little faith, 't is but a day,
And sin will vanish! All earth's withering woes
Will pass away; the Gospel's blessed words,
Borne by its ministers to every land,
Will heal them all. God will be glorified
In human blessedness; and, morn and eve,
The ransomed tribes shall send up to the throne,
From all earth's surface, hallelujahs, sweet,
And loud as many waters. Heaven itself
Will seem descended; earth will seem a heaven.

Come, O Thou Lamb of God, hasten Thy work;
Cut short the reign of sin; and if not here,
Oh, soon from our bright thrones above the sky,
Let us but catch the strain from all who dwell
Upon the earth—JEHOVAH REIGNS!

288

“AROUSE YE, O SERVANTS OF GOD!”

[_]

[Music: “The Cross and Victory.”]

[_]

Written for the hymn, and dedicated to Societies of Christian Endeavor.

Arouse ye, arouse ye, O servants of God!
His right arm, your strength, and your leader, His rod.
Oh, haste from the north, from the south, to His call;
His cause shall prevail,—He shall reign over all!
Farewell to your dreaming; no longer delay;
Go tell the glad tidings! God's hand points the way.
Go forward! go forward! to conquer or die;
God will make sure the victory.

Chorus.

Haste and bear the banner forth,
East and west, and south and north;
Haste to lift the cross on high,
The pledge of victory.
Haste and bear the banner forth,
East and west, and south and north;
Haste to lift the cross on high,
The pledge of victory,—
The cross, and victory!

The morning has broken, the noonday is near;
Go forward with courage, nor doubt ye, nor fear.
Rely on His promise, His oath, and His word;
His Spirit your helper, His Gospel, your sword.
The Prince of Salvation is winning His way,—
Bring crowns for His brow,—joy, joy, for the day!
Go forward! go forward, to conquer or die;
God will make sure the victory.

Chorus.

289

FROM EARTH TO HEAVEN.

COME UNTO ME.

Thou whose heart with pain is broken,
Long with grief and woe oppressed,
Hear what God, the Lord, hath spoken,
Weary wanderer after rest.
Come to Me, thy sins forsaking,
God's great mercy gladly taking:
With the world and folly part.
Give Me, give Me now, thy heart.

Come to Me, the meek and lowly;
Come, My easy burden bear;
Be thou one among the holy;
Cast away thy dull despair;
I will make thy burdens lighter;
I will make thy pleasures brighter;
Restless as the troubled sea,
Come, forsaking all for Me.

Who that ever sought My favor,
Though My grace was long abused,
Who that yielded to the Saviour,
Asked My love and was refused?
At the throne of mercy bending,
On the arm of God depending,
Come to Me, from labor cease;
And in Me thou shalt have peace.

290

O LORD, REMEMBER ME!

With crowds around upbraiding,
And curses on the blast,
While things of earth were fading,
And life was ebbing fast,—
The malefactor, praying,
To Christ upon the tree,
Breathed out his spirit, saying,
“O Lord, remember me!”

The Saviour looked in meekness,
Though death was drawing nigh;
He heeded not His weakness,
When came the contrite sigh.
He said, while thoughts of pity
Beamed from His dying eyes:
“To-day thou shalt be with Me,
In yonder paradise.”

If scenes of joy and gladness,
In life my lot should be,
Or should my days bring sadness,
O Lord, remember me!
Receive my parting spirit,
Where joys unfading rise,
And take me to inherit
A place in paradise.

291

THE ALL-SUFFICIENT REFUGE.

O rock of Ages! when the storm
Of trial drives across my path,
And vainly struggles human power
To stand against its sweeping wrath,
Then shield me by Thy towering head,
Then in Thy clefts, O, let me hide,—
No ill can reach the soul that leans,
Trusting, on Christ the Crucified.

O Rock of Ages! when my tears
In streams of contrite anguish flow,
And, penitent, my lips confess
How just the hand that strikes the blow,
Then to Thy massive, shelving cliffs,
Then to Thy shadow let me flee;
The dying Christ sustained the shock,
And, Lord, the soul is safe in Thee.

O Rock of Ages! when my heart,
Struck by some sore bereavement, bleeds,
And earthly props and comforters
Have proved themselves but broken reeds,
Then to Thy shelter let me press,
Which stands from age to age the same;
Christ changes not,—the stricken soul
Finds comfort in His healing name.

O Rock of Ages! if the cross
Of shame for Christ's dear name I bear,
Or suffer loss, because I choose
His seal upon my brow to wear,

292

Then, calm and fearless, let my soul,
Safe in Thy great protection, rest;
Christ is a refuge,—troubled hearts
Find shelter in the Saviour's breast.

O Rock of Ages! when in death
My strength grows weak, my spirits fail,
And earthly helpers leave my feet
To tread alone the solemn vale,
Then from each cliff and slope and crag,
Let light, from heaven reflected, shine;
Christ is earth's sun, and Christ alone
Can gild the tomb with rays divine.

As clings the seaman, when his bark
Is shattered by the raging wave,
To fragments of the broken wreck,
And vainly hopes his life to save,—
So, in all times of risk or need,
My spirit to Thy shade shall flee;
Secure, in life or death, to find
O Rock of Ages! all in Thee.

THE EVERLASTING SHELTER.

No sorrow, like a sweeping storm,
Around the soul fierce conflict wages,
But Christ has power its force to quell,—
No storm can move the Rock of Ages.

293

O yearning thirst of human hearts!
Thirst which no earthly good assuages,—
Seek water from the Smitten Rock;
That Rock is Christ,—the Rock of Ages.

O hearts and hands consumed by toil,
Confined to earth, as birds in cages!
Rest for the weary—endless rest—
Lies in Thy shelter, Rock of Ages.

Search all the wisdom earth can boast;
Bring all the light from saints and sages,—
Vain is the quest for peace and rest,
Till sought within the Rock of Ages.

What thought, what hope, what love, what joy,
The heart—the curious heart—engages;
Joy, love, and hope surpassing thought,—
All centre in the Rock of Ages.

There is a land serene and fair,
Where falls no blight, no passion rages,
Sheltered and safe from grief and sin,
O'ershadowed by the Rock of Ages.

Grateful, our heavenward path we tread,
Mount by successive steps and stages,
And wait secure the day of God,—
Hid in Thy clefts, O Rock of Ages!

294

LIFE'S RAPID RIVER.

As flows the rapid river,
With channel broad and free,
Its waters rippling ever,
And rushing to the sea,—
So swift our days are ending,
Short is each joy and grief,—
Summer with winter blending,
The longest life, how brief.

As moons are ever waning,
As hastes the sun away,
As stormy winds, complaining,
Bring on the wintry day,—
So fast the night comes o'er us,
The darkness of the grave,—
Death ever just before us,
God takes the life He gave.

Be then thy choicest treasure
Laid up in worlds above;
Be thine the highest pleasure,
Thy God, to serve and love;
And use, with wise endeavour,
The talent Heaven has lent,
Lest thou lament forever,
A precious life, misspent.

295

AS SUMMER CLOUDS.

As summer clouds in richness sleeping,
Are scattered by the winds away;
As flowers, awhile their beauty keeping,
Are withered at the close of day,—
So life is ever, ever flying,
And bringing on the hour of dying;
The cloud departs; the blossom fades;
And death draws on its silent shades.

How brief the rainbow's peaceful brightness!
Its glowing colors melt away;
How vain the busy insect's lightness!
Its life is sweet, but will not stay.
Earth's dearest joys are tinged by sorrow;
The soul may wade in grief to-morrow.
The rainbow melts; the insect dies,—
But man to endless life may rise.

The noonday hours are bright, but fleeting;
The time for labor soon is gone;
The gentle twilight, fast retreating,
Forsakes the world, and day is done.
So fast the day of life is spending;
So fast the time of duty, ending;
The day retires, the twilight flies;
O man, secure life's noblest prize.

296

HOW BLEST ARE THEY, IN CHRIST, WHO DIE!

“Peace was the last word of little Jane, and peace seemed to be inscribed on the farewell scene at the grave where they laid her down to rest.”

How blest are they, in Christ, who die,
While guardian angels linger nigh!
The dreary days of pain are o'er;
And life ebbs out,
As billows die on the shore.

Death wears no terror on its brow;
It comes like summer airs that blow
Across the earth at evening hour,
Or moonlight beams,
That glide along the peaceful bower.

While angel-bands the requiem sing,
The joyful soul is on the wing.
The captive free; life's labor done,—
Clad in white robes,
The saint appears before the throne.

Peace reigns beside the silent bed,—
Peace, where the happy soul has fled;
The Lord hath taken what He gave.
The soul hath rest;
And peace is written on the grave.

297

TO DIE IS GAIN.

[_]

During a severe illness in July, 1892, Dr. Smith wrote the following lines upon small scraps of paper, as he had strength. They were preserved and printed by his son, very tender memories attaching to the family experiences of that summer. Believing that they will bear spiritual comfort to many in other households, the compiler of this volume has the assent of their author to this present use.

To feel the mild, delicious clime,
Where summer never fades;
To breathe the glorious atmosphere,
Which sickness ne'er invades;

To reach at last that happy land,
Where tears are never known;
To see the wondrous face of Him
Who sits upon the throne;

All the great souls of all the years,
In Heaven's high courts to meet;
All kindred spirits, glorified,
To join, in converse sweet;

To burst the chrysalis, and soar
On love's triumphant wing;
To swell the hymns of mighty praise,
The ransomed armies sing;

To wear the robes of saints in light;
To shine as shines the sun;
To hear the Saviour's welcome voice
Pronounce the glad “well done!”

298

And, O, the crowning height of bliss,
Where all the glories blend,
To know the bliss, the light, the love,
Shall never, never, end!

Beyond the shades of sin and woe,
With joyful speed to fly,
And in God's loving arms to rest,—
Oh, it is gain to die.

THE DYING CHRISTIAN.

By the couch of the saint there are loved ones to weep;
There are angels to watch o'er the last weary sleep;
There's a Saviour to soothe every feeling of grief,
And a balm for the spirit that sighs for relief.

When the soul thro' the Jordan of death deeply wades,
And the light of creation burns dimly and fades;
There 's a voice that can speak thro' the gathering shade,—
Saint, thy Saviour is near thee, O, be not afraid.

As the sun hastens down to his place in the west,
And the calmness of evening thrills sweet through the breast;
So serene is the hour, when the soul sinks to rest,
And with gladness ascends to the home of the blest.

299

THE GRAVE.

How calm and peaceful is the grave!
How bright the flowers that round it wave!
How clear the sky that o'er it shines!
How soft the scene,
When morning dawns, when day declines!

The weary there forget their woes—
The pilgrim hath a long repose;
No earthly storms the dead awake;
Their sleep is still
As sunset on the peaceful lake.

The rich and great are slumbering there,
Set free from earth's delusive glare.
The poor are garnered in the dust,
Alike at rest,
Till comes the rising of the just.

O day of glory, when the tomb
Shall burst, and heaven's bright morning come,
When all that in the earth repose
Shall wake to life,
And Christ shall reign o'er all His foes!

300

WHERE IS THY VICTORY, O GRAVE!

Christian, awake! Let thy soul swell with gladness!
Prospects of glory dawn bright on thy sadness;
Rising, immortal, thy spirit shall sing,—
Grave, where 's thy victory; Death, where 's thy sting?

Sown in corruption, the frame lies decaying;
Raised in its glory, all beauty displaying,
Body and spirit united shall sing,—
Grave, where 's thy victory; Death, where 's thy sting?

Peacefully sleep till the trumpet awake thee;
He whom thou lovest will never forsake thee;
Ransomed from guilt and from death, thou shalt sing,—
Grave, where 's thy victory; Death, where 's thy sting?

Then, when this mortal, immortal awaking,
Triumphs, exulting, Death's dark fetters breaking;
Man in his glorified nature shall sing,—
Grave, where 's thy victory; Death, where 's thy sting?

HEAVEN.

Pain shall not enter there. No thought of woe
Shall rend the tender heart. The silent tear
No more shall wet the wasting cheek. The eye
Shall not be dimmed with sorrow. Nor shall aught
Be done, or thought, or said, to grieve the soul

301

Of harmless innocence. The thoughtless tongue,
That fills the world with sadness, then shall be
Employed in noblest praise. Lover and friend,
And all the dearly cherished of the heart,
Who long have rested in the tomb, shall come
And join the choral strain. From earth aroused,
The voice of harmony that flows so sweet
Around the throne, their tongues shall ever swell.
Then, then, there shall be peace,—a settled calm,
A soft serenity, more gently mild than earth,
With all its gorgeous scenes, can hope to bring
A meet comparison. And all that peace
Shall live and reign a long forever there,
Forever there! and this eternity
Shall make that heaven, a heaven.

May 31, 1832.

RE-UNION IN HEAVEN.

WHEN SHALL WE MEET AGAIN, MEET, NE'ER TO SEVER?

[_]

The first verse belonged to an English hymn which was submitted to Mr. Smith by Lowell Mason to complete, as the remaining verses were of a different metre. The last verses were written to conform in spirit and measure with the first.

When shall we meet again,—
Meet, ne'er to sever?
When will Peace wreathe her chain,
Round us forever?
Our hearts will ne'er repose,
Safe from each blast that blows
In this dark vale of woes,
Never—no, never.

302

When shall love freely flow,
Pure as life's river?
When shall sweet friendship glow,
Changeless, forever?
Where joys celestial thrill,
Where bliss each heart shall fill,
And fears of parting chill
Never—no, never!

Up to that world of light,
Take us, dear Saviour;
May we all there unite,
Happy forever.
Where kindred spirits dwell,
There may our music swell,
And time our joys dispel
Never—no, never!

Soon shall we meet again,—
Meet, ne'er to sever:
Soon will Peace wreathe her chain
Round us forever:
Our hearts will then repose,
Secure from worldly woes;
Our songs of praise shall close
Never—no, never!

303

A REDEEMED WORLD.

YOUR THOUSAND VOICES RAISE.

A CENTENARY HYMN.

[_]

[Tune: “America.”]

Your thousand voices raise,
In symphony of praise,
Clear, sweet and strong;
Tell it with joy unknown,
Tell it in loftiest tone,
Jesus is King, alone,—
The note prolong.

He came, He saw, He died,—
Jesus, the Crucified;
He lives, He reigns.
In Him all glories meet;
Kings bow before His feet;
His foes are mown like wheat;
His throne remains.

Born from an infant root,
Once like a feeble shoot,
Hopeful and brave;
The twig has grown a tree,
Known over land and sea,—
O'er what immensity
Its branches wave!

304

Ride on, triumphant Lord!
A hundred years record
Thy victories won;
Hasten the glorious day
When all shall own Thy sway,
And earth and heaven shall say,—
“The work is done.”

MORN OF ZION'S GLORY.

FROM THE GERMAN.

Morn of Zion's glory,
Brightly thou art breaking;
Holy joys thy light is waking.
Morn of Zion's glory,
Ancient saints foretold thee,
Seraph-angels, glad, behold thee;
How they glide,
Far and wide,
Streams of full salvation,
Free to every nation.

Morn of Zion's glory,
Joyful tidings bringing,
All the wilds with flowers are springing!
Morn of Zion's glory,
All the nations hail thee;
Foes to God in vain assail thee;
Peace with men
Dwells again
What celestial pleasure
Swells, a sacred treasure.

305

Morn of Zion's glory,
Every human dwelling
With the notes of joy is swelling;
Morn of Zion's glory!
Distant hills are ringing,
Echoed voices sweet are singing;
Haste thee on,
Like the sun,
Paths of splendor tracing,
Heathen midnight chasing.

Morn of Zion's glory,
Now the night is risen;
Now thy star is high in heaven.
Morn of Zion's glory,
Joyful hearts are bounding,
Hallelujahs high are sounding.
Peace with men
Dwells again;
Jesus reigns forever,
Jesus reigns forever!

THE GREAT SALVATION.

Glorious days shall be to Zion
When her conflicts are no more,
And the Saviour she relies on,
Sits enthroned in regal power.

Broken, every captive's fetter,—
All in Jesus shall be free;
Kings shall crowd to Heaven's sceptre;
All the earth shall bow the knee.

306

Hail, the willing nations, bending,
Prince of Peace, before Thy throne!
Heaven to earth, in love descending,
Views a world at peace,—Thine own.

In the scenes of coming glory,
All the ransomed hosts shall share;
All the holy, all the lowly,
Shall the crown of glory wear.

Hosts from every clime and nation
Then shall be in Christ made one;
Gained in full, the Great Salvation,—
Life and joy immortal, won.

THE SUCCESS OF THE GOSPEL ASSURED.

THE MORNING LIGHT IS BREAKING.

[_]

This Hymn, and the National Hymn, “My country, 't is of thee,” were written while the author was at Andover Theological Seminary, in 1832.

The morning light is breaking;
The darkness disappears;
The sons of earth are waking
To penitential tears.
Each breeze that sweeps the ocean,
Brings tidings from afar
Of nations in commotion,
Prepared for Zion's war.

307

Rich dews of grace come o'er us,
In many a gentle shower,
And brighter scenes before us,
Are opening every hour;
Each cry, to Heaven going,
Abundant answers brings,
And heavenly gales are blowing,
With peace upon their wings.

See heathen nations bending
Before the God we love!
And thousand hearts ascending
In gratitude above;
While sinners, now confessing,
The Gospel call obey,
And seek the Saviour's blessing,—
A nation in a day.

Blest river of salvation,
Pursue thy onward way;
Flow, thou, to every nation,
Nor in thy richness stay;
Stay not, till all the lowly
Triumphant reach their home;
Stay not, till all the holy
Proclaim, “The Lord is come!”

308

JESUS EVER REIGNS.

FROM THE GERMAN.

Up, ye nations, raise
Songs of grateful praise;
Let creation round,
Ring the joyful sound;
Let each happy voice,
In the Lord rejoice;
Jesus, now adore,
Sovereign, evermore;
He who loved our souls,
He whose mercy rolls
O'er our guilty stains,—
Jesus ever reigns.

Now His pains are o'er,
Who our sorrows bore;
Now He mounts the throne,
Worthy, He alone,
Evermore to wear,
Wreaths of glory there;
See the rainbow shine,
Pledge of love divine;
See it o'er His head,
Rays of splendor shed!
Earthly glory wanes;
Jesus ever reigns.

Thou, of David's race,
Thou, the Prince of Peace,
Thou, Almighty Word,
Thou, Incarnate Lord,

309

Worthy art, to be
Praised in melody,
Poured from thousand tongues,
Swelled in thousand songs.
Worthy is Thy name,
Sin-atoning Lamb,
Thou, who once wast slain,
Evermore to reign.

Lord, our praise we bring,—
Praise to Christ, our King;
Praise to Him whose love
Leads our souls above;
Praise to Him whose power
Guards us hour by hour.
Sing, ye choirs on high;
Angel bands, reply,
Mortals, old and young,—
Let each joyful tongue,
Join the lofty strains,—
Jesus ever reigns.

THE LORD IS COME.

Light o'er the darkened hills
Breaks forth at last, and fills
The glowing sky;
See, a new dayspring born
Kindles a holy morn,
Beaming on lands forlorn,
While shadows fly.

310

Glory to God on high,
Wide let the echo fly!
His flag, unfurled,
Shall tell new wonders done.
Shall boast new triumphs won,—
His, the Immortal crown,
The conquered world.

Welcome the glorious morn,
Welcome the hosts, new-born,
Praise and adore.
Dispersed the heathen's gloom,
Thousands to Christ have come;
In Christ there still is room
For thousands more.

Hail, mighty Conqueror, hail!
Thy promise will not fail;
Thy crown assume.
Speak from Thy throne on high,
Bid the glad tidings fly,
And heaven and earth reply,
“The Lord is come!”

311

TRIUMPHS OF THE GOSPEL.

What waves of music roll,
What songs of joy come swelling,
Among the angel bands,
Along heaven's sacred dwelling,
When penitents return,
When dying souls revive,
Forsake the way of death,
And learn for God to live!

Among the saints on earth,
What praise and adoration
To God the Saviour wake,
When lost ones seek salvation!
The sacramental host,
That spreads from sea to sea,
While the glad numbers grow,
Sing their fresh Jubilee.

Hail, day of holy joy!
Though earth's last days are wasting,
When happy converts come,
Like doves, to Jesus hasting!
Ride on, Thou conquering Prince,
Till all the world obey,
And all the ransomed earth
Yield to Thy blessed sway.

312

SPEED ON THY VICTORY, MIGHTY KING!

[_]

For the Young Men's Social Union, Boston, March 19, 1895.

Speed on Thy victory, mighty King,
The world awaits Thy call!
Swiftly Thy glorious kingdom bring,
And reign Thou, Lord of all.

All things are Thine,—the earth we tread,
The stars, the sky, the sea;
And we are in Thy image made,—
Our all belongs to Thee.

So, conquering Prince, o'er all the world,
Bid sin and tumult cease,
And Thy blest banner float, unfurled,
Above a world at peace.

Gather fresh crowns, of priceless worth,—
Triumphant Saviour, Thou,—
Till the fair crown of all the earth
Shall glitter on Thy brow.

313

THE PRINCE OF SALVATION IN TRIUMPH IS RIDING.

The Prince of Salvation in triumph is riding,
And glory attends Him along His bright way;
The news of His grace on the breezes are gliding,
And mortals are owning His sway.

The rays of the gospel-star,—see how they brighten!
With splendors unknown the horizon they fill;
The wretched they soothe, and the dark they enlighten,
And gladness their beamings distil.

Ride on, in Thy greatness, Thou conquering Saviour!
Let thousands of thousands submit to Thy reign,
Like doves at their windows, entreat for Thy favor,
And follow Thy glorious train.

Then sweetly shall ring from each sanctified nation,
The voices of myriads tuned to Thy praise,
And heaven shall re-echo the song of salvation,
In rich and melodious lays.

314

AMERICA'S CHRISTIAN CENTENNIAL.

[_]

Written under the conviction that the progress of Christ's Kingdom during the First Century of American Independence was typical of its supreme extension during the new century, just begun.

A hundred years,—how vast the sweep
Of scenes that fill the mighty past!
The sires that sowed, the sons that reap;
The trembling first, the hopeful last!

A hundred years,—through peace and strife
The envy of a hundred lands;
The nation, nurtured into life,
Founded in faith, in glory stands.

A hundred years,—what names of power
With fadeless bloom our history wreathe;
Like petals of some fragrant flower,
A sweet aroma still they breathe.

A hundred years,—o'er lands afar,
Where once at heathen shrines they fell,
Thousands have hailed the rising star,
Thy radiant star, Immanuel.

A hundred years,—from sea to sea
Freedom's unsullied banners wave;
No tyrant bids us bow the knee,
No zealot rules, nor toils a slave.

315

A hundred years,—what scenes unknown
In wondrous vista lie outspread!
Harvests from seed in weakness sown,
Life, springing from the mighty dead.

A hundred years,—we wait His word
Whose fiat bade creation be,
Who spake, and echoing chaos heard,
And light broke forth in majesty.

A hundred years,—unshrinking still,
We wait the Master's high behest;
In filial trust, the Master's will
Appoints our toil, provides our rest.

A hundred years, perchance, may end,
And sin from all its thrones be hurled,
And earth in humble reverence bend
To Him who rules a ransomed world.

A hundred years, and earth, redeemed,
Shall see her idol temples fall,
And He, whose star o'er Bethlehem beamed,
Sit, crowned, triumphant, Lord of all.

THE DOXOLOGY OF REDEMPTION.

Redeemed from death! redeemed from sin!
Redeemed from ills without, within!
Redeemed! what new light gilds the skies!
What glories on the soul arise!

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Glory to Him whose love unknown
Reached man's abyss from Heaven's high throne;
Like some new star its radiance beamed,
A new key rang,—redeemed! redeemed!

As ocean's billows swell and break,
The mighty tide of praise shall wake;
Thy love, Lord, like the unmeasured sea,
Shall waft a world, redeemed, to Thee.

Redeemed! creation, joyful, brings
Its tribute to the King of kings;
Redeemed! earth's million voices raise
One sounding anthem to His praise.

University of Virginia Library

3. Part III. POEMS: SACRED AND RELIGIOUS.

INCENTIVES TO EARLY PIETY.

OF SUCH IS THE KINGDOM OF HEAVEN.

MORNING PRAYER.

FROM THE GERMAN.

THINGS SMALL AND GREAT.

THE DEWDROP AND THE SOUL.

RELIGION.

REMEMBER THY CREATOR.

ECCLESIASTES XII.

THANKSGIVING.

MARTHA AND MARY.

PERFECT IN CHRIST.

FLEETING BLESSINGS.

FROM THE GERMAN.

EARLY CONSECRATION.

OUR BELOVED TEACHERS.

THE WORD OF GOD.

THE CLOSING WEEK.

SATURDAY EVENING.

SABBATH MORNING.

THE LORD'S DAY.

ANNIVERSARY HYMN.

A SABBATH-SCHOOL HYMN.

FROM THE GERMAN.

SABBATH EVENING.

GOD BE OUR STAFF AND FRIEND.

THE YOUNG FOR CHRIST.

ONWARD! CHRISTIAN WARRIORS.

THE GOSPEL MINISTRY.

HARVEST-TIME.

SOWING AND REAPING.

WELCOME TO A PASTOR.

A BLESSING SOUGHT UPON A PASTOR.

THE DIVINE PRESENCE INVOKED.

BENEFITS OF THE MINISTRY.

GREAT IS THE WORK, BUT THINE THE POWER.

ORDINATION HYMN.

THE CHOSEN OF GOD.

THE SICKLE AND THE SHEAF.

CHRIST, THE CORNER-STONE.

THE REAPERS.

THE AGED PASTOR.

STEWARDSHIP.

GOD OF THE STARRY WORLDS ABOVE.

INVOCATION BEFORE THE DEDICATION OF A CHURCH.

COME, O DIVINE SHEKINAH, COME!

DEDICATION HYMN.

DEDICATION OF CARYVILLE CHAPEL.

GOD OF THE MOUNTAINS AND THE SEA.

RE-DEDICATION OF SEAMEN'S BETHEL, NOVEMBER 8, 1893.

THE FATHERS, WHERE ARE THEY?

SWEEP ON, O CAR OF LIGHT!

DEDICATION OF THE GOSPEL CAR “EMMANUEL,” IN DENVER, COLORADO, MAY, 1893.

FAREWELL TO THE OLD CHURCH.

THE LIVING CHURCH.

THE ROCK OF AGES.

GOD ALL IN ALL.

DIVINE PROVIDENCE.

DEDICATION HYMN.

THE REDEEMER'S TEARS.

THE LAST SUPPER.

JOHN XIII. 1; XIV. 14, 23, 27.

GETHSEMANE.

THE LORD IS RISEN!

THE LIVING CHURCH SWEEPS ON.

CENTENNIAL HYMN.

A RICH BEQUEST.

CHRISTIAN EXPERIENCE.

THE PRESENT AND THE ETERNAL.

DESPONDENCY.

CONSECRATION.

IMPORTUNITY IN PRAYER.

FAR FROM EARTH.

PASSING ON, PASSING UP.

THY WILL, O LORD, BE DONE.

YE ARE NOT YOUR OWN.

ALL THINGS ARE YOURS.

A PRESENT HELP IN TROUBLE.

3. Part III.
POEMS: SACRED AND RELIGIOUS.