 | Thoughts in Verse |  |
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III. PART III.—IN MEMORIAM.
Rev. Allan McLean,
Litchfield, Conn.
A christian warrior is sleeping,
After battle din has ceased,
Sleeping that sleep which knows no waking,
Resting now in perfect peace.
After battle din has ceased,
Sleeping that sleep which knows no waking,
Resting now in perfect peace.
A noble-hearted man is sleeping,
For his life-work all is done;
And the angels now are keeping
Faithful watch around his tomb.
For his life-work all is done;
And the angels now are keeping
Faithful watch around his tomb.
A man of God has ceased from labor,
And his work is fully blest;
Finished his course, with faith and patience—
Entered everlasting rest.
And his work is fully blest;
Finished his course, with faith and patience—
Entered everlasting rest.
Wendell Phillips.
A mighty man has fallen asleep
Upon his Saviour's breast;
A life full-rounded, pure and deep,
Is finished and is blest.
Upon his Saviour's breast;
A life full-rounded, pure and deep,
Is finished and is blest.
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His noble heart scorned every wrong,
His face was calm, serene;
His will well-governed, firm and strong,
Though oft his words were keen.
His face was calm, serene;
His will well-governed, firm and strong,
Though oft his words were keen.
When duty called him to the fray,
His eloquence was grand;
He deeply longed to see the day—
The curse should flee his land.
His eloquence was grand;
He deeply longed to see the day—
The curse should flee his land.
He worked and toiled through bitter years,
To break the tyrants' power;
Through fire and flood and scalding tears,
He struggled, till the hour—
To break the tyrants' power;
Through fire and flood and scalding tears,
He struggled, till the hour—
Which in the providence of God
Should set the captive free,
And men should reverence the blood
That flowed on Calvary,
Should set the captive free,
And men should reverence the blood
That flowed on Calvary,
To make them one; a brotherhood—
In bonds of Christian love;
And work for one another's good,
To gain a home above.
In bonds of Christian love;
And work for one another's good,
To gain a home above.
The blow was struck; the giant died;
Oppression ceased its reign,
And o'er the land now purified,
Peace sweetly smiled again.
Oppression ceased its reign,
And o'er the land now purified,
Peace sweetly smiled again.
And with the purpose of his life
Complete ere set of sun,
He calmly waited after strife
To hear—“Enough; well done!”
Complete ere set of sun,
He calmly waited after strife
To hear—“Enough; well done!”
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And when the message came at last,
A shock full-ripe was he,
The years allotted man were passed—
His age was seventy-three.
A shock full-ripe was he,
The years allotted man were passed—
His age was seventy-three.
The work the Master gave is done,
His efforts have been blest;
He battled earnestly and won,
And now he is at rest.
His efforts have been blest;
He battled earnestly and won,
And now he is at rest.
Miss Ann Eliza Davis,
Danville, Va.
A year since, when we gently laid
Bright flowers above the sleeping brave,
We little thought that thou, sweet maid,
Would sleep this year within the grave.
Bright flowers above the sleeping brave,
We little thought that thou, sweet maid,
Would sleep this year within the grave.
Affection pure to thee we brought;
Thy life to earnest work was given;
We send this wreath with tender thought—
And may we meet, some day in Heaven.
Thy life to earnest work was given;
We send this wreath with tender thought—
And may we meet, some day in Heaven.
Janie Armstrong.
Died in Savannah, Ga., October 8, 1885.
Near her bed are angels hovering,
As she breathes her life away;
Mother, friends, with tender patience
Gather round and watch and pray.
As she breathes her life away;
Mother, friends, with tender patience
Gather round and watch and pray.
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With fixed eyes upon some object,
Which seems mirrored on her sight;
With a voice o'erfilled with rapture,
And a countenance of light—
Which seems mirrored on her sight;
With a voice o'erfilled with rapture,
And a countenance of light—
She exclaims—“I see my Saviour,
Standing near, and beckoning me;
Listen to the words he utters—
‘Come, my Father sends for thee!’
Standing near, and beckoning me;
Listen to the words he utters—
‘Come, my Father sends for thee!’
Come, a place for thee is waiting,
In my many-mansioned home;
At the gate are angels watching—
Do not linger, quickly come!
In my many-mansioned home;
At the gate are angels watching—
Do not linger, quickly come!
Yes, I hear the angels singing!
Do you hear them, mother dear?
And their bright wings softly rustling?
Heaven, indeed, is very near.
Do you hear them, mother dear?
And their bright wings softly rustling?
Heaven, indeed, is very near.
Death, for me has lost his terror;
Robbed of victory the grave.
I am in my father's keeping—
He but taketh what he gave.
Robbed of victory the grave.
I am in my father's keeping—
He but taketh what he gave.
He has promised to be with me,
In the valley, cold and dim;
I am resting on His bosom—
And my trust is all in Him.
In the valley, cold and dim;
I am resting on His bosom—
And my trust is all in Him.
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Dr. George W. Levere.
To Zion Presbyterian Church, Charleston:
A pastor sleeps, and Zion weeps
In agony of grief.
They look above, to God of Love,
And supplicate relief.
In agony of grief.
They look above, to God of Love,
And supplicate relief.
He comes no more; he comes no more
With messages of peace.
His race is run; his labor done;
His soul has found release.
With messages of peace.
His race is run; his labor done;
His soul has found release.
Then, Zion, wake, fresh courage take,
Our Father knoweth best.
He knoweth all; He sent the call—
And gave thy loved one rest.
Our Father knoweth best.
He knoweth all; He sent the call—
And gave thy loved one rest.
Work on, work on; at morn and noon,
And in the gloomy night,
For soon shall come thy summons home
To Father's house of light.
And in the gloomy night,
For soon shall come thy summons home
To Father's house of light.
[Dr. George W. Levere.]
To the Preachers' Union, of Charleston:
One of our number has finished his journey,
And in obedience passed under the rod.
He was a soldier who fought for his country—
Fought for his Saviour, humanity, God.
And in obedience passed under the rod.
He was a soldier who fought for his country—
Fought for his Saviour, humanity, God.
Brethren, 'ere long we must lay down our armor;
Soon we must cease from our warfare, and rest.
Let us be faithful, and constant in labor,
That we may enter the home of the blest.
Soon we must cease from our warfare, and rest.
Let us be faithful, and constant in labor,
That we may enter the home of the blest.
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We are ambassadors for the Lord Jesus,
With a commission His will to perform.
In all the duties required He will guide us,—
Give us a shelter, and peace, in the storm.
With a commission His will to perform.
In all the duties required He will guide us,—
Give us a shelter, and peace, in the storm.
And when the work of our mission is over,
We shall with joy to our King's palace come,—
There we shall hear from our Prince and our Saviour,
“Rest from thy labor, ye blessed, well done!”
We shall with joy to our King's palace come,—
There we shall hear from our Prince and our Saviour,
“Rest from thy labor, ye blessed, well done!”
Mrs. A. Isabel Herron.
Died in Charleston, S. C., February 14, 1887.
A life of worth and beauty,
A life of hope and faith;
A life of love and duty
Has triumphed over death.
Of friends the best, the truest;
Of Christians lovely, sure;
Of womenhood the noblest,
Consistent, constant, pure.
A life of hope and faith;
A life of love and duty
Has triumphed over death.
Of friends the best, the truest;
Of Christians lovely, sure;
Of womenhood the noblest,
Consistent, constant, pure.
We wonder why our Father—
Our tender-hearted Lord,
Thus early called our sister
From labor to reward;
But we should never question
His wisdom; none can tell
How kind has been His action—
He doeth all things well.
Our tender-hearted Lord,
Thus early called our sister
From labor to reward;
But we should never question
His wisdom; none can tell
How kind has been His action—
He doeth all things well.
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We have this consolation,
That, as the hour drew near,
There was no consternation,
No thought of dread or fear.
But with a faith unaltered—
Crowned with celestial light,
She whispered, “I am favored,
The valley is all bright!”
That, as the hour drew near,
There was no consternation,
No thought of dread or fear.
But with a faith unaltered—
Crowned with celestial light,
She whispered, “I am favored,
The valley is all bright!”
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