 | Songs of salvation |  |
“I believe in the forgiveness of sins.”—The Apostles' Creed.
“Thus saith the high and lofty One that inhabiteth eternity,
whose name is Holy: I dwell in the high and holy place, with
him also that is of a contrite and humble spirit, to revive the
spirit of the humble, and to revive the heart of the contrite ones.”—Isaiah lvii. 15.
Et Teneo et Teneor
“The faintest longing to love, is love; the very dread to
miss for ever the face of God, is love; the very terror at that
dreadful state where none can love, is love. Feelest thou
thyself dry, seared, impenitent, bewildered, stupefied, without
feeling?—yea, if there be any who can himself scarcely
tell what he believes, or whether he believes at all; let him
feel himself abandoned to Satan, unable to distinguish
whether blasphemous and impure thoughts be of his own
mind or the darts of the Evil One driven through him; let
him be this and all beside which can be imagined miserable,
so that covered with the ulcers of his sins he seem to himself
to be all one wound, unbound, unclosed, unsoftened, a very
living death; yet if he have any longing to be delivered from
the body of his death, he has not committed the unpardonable
sin. Those around him may say, ‘Lord, he stinketh;’ the
heavy stone of earthly sins may lie upon him, and he lie
motionless, bound hand and foot with grave-clothes so that
he cannot approach unto Jesus, and his eyes wrapped round
so that he should not see Him; yet He whom he cannot
seek may yet seek him; that voice which awakeneth the dead
can reach him yet, and he may hear the voice of the Son of
God, and, hearing, live.”—Dr. Pusey.
1
A SINNER AND HIS SAVIOUR.
Oh! who are these, too long apart,
When once they've found each other's heart
Would never from the other part?
A Sinner and his Saviour.
When once they've found each other's heart
Would never from the other part?
A Sinner and his Saviour.
A sinner I; but who art Thou
With many crowns upon Thy brow?
I see the thorn among them, now
I know Thee for my Saviour.
With many crowns upon Thy brow?
I see the thorn among them, now
I know Thee for my Saviour.
Long, long I tracked Thy steps; I heard
Thy voice in many a gracious word;
I listened till my heart was stirred
To seek Thee for my Saviour.
Thy voice in many a gracious word;
I listened till my heart was stirred
To seek Thee for my Saviour.
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I sought Thee, weeping, high and low;
I found Thee not; I did not know
I was a sinner; even so
I missed Thee for my Saviour.
I found Thee not; I did not know
I was a sinner; even so
I missed Thee for my Saviour.
I saw Thee sweetly condescend
Of humble men to be the friend;
I chose Thee for my way—my end,
But found not yet my Saviour.
Of humble men to be the friend;
I chose Thee for my way—my end,
But found not yet my Saviour.
Until upon the cross I saw
My God, who died to meet the law
That man had broken; then I saw
My sin, and then my Saviour.
My God, who died to meet the law
That man had broken; then I saw
My sin, and then my Saviour.
What seek I longer? let me be
A sinner all my days to Thee
Yet more and more—and Thou to me
Yet more and more my Saviour.
A sinner all my days to Thee
Yet more and more—and Thou to me
Yet more and more my Saviour.
A sinner all my earthly days,
A sinner who believes and prays,
A sinner all his evil ways
Who leaves for his dear Saviour.
A sinner who believes and prays,
A sinner all his evil ways
Who leaves for his dear Saviour.
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Who leaves his evil ways, yet leaves
Not Him to whom his spirit cleaves
More close, that he so often grieves
The soul of his dear Saviour.
Not Him to whom his spirit cleaves
More close, that he so often grieves
The soul of his dear Saviour.
Be Thou to me my Lord, my guide,
My friend, yea everything beside;
But first, last, best, whate'er betide,
Be Thou to me my Saviour!
My friend, yea everything beside;
But first, last, best, whate'er betide,
Be Thou to me my Saviour!
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REDEMPTION.
I am not skilled to understand
What God hath willed, what God hath planned;
I only know at His right hand
Stands One Who is my Saviour.
What God hath willed, what God hath planned;
I only know at His right hand
Stands One Who is my Saviour.
I take God at His word and deed;
“Christ died to save me,” this I read,
And in my heart I find a need
Of Him to be my Saviour.
“Christ died to save me,” this I read,
And in my heart I find a need
Of Him to be my Saviour.
And was there, then, no other way
For God to take?—I cannot say;
I only bless Him day by day
Who saved me through my Saviour.
For God to take?—I cannot say;
I only bless Him day by day
Who saved me through my Saviour.
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That He should leave His place on high,
And come for sinful man to die,
You count it strange?—so do not I,
Since I have known my Saviour.
And come for sinful man to die,
You count it strange?—so do not I,
Since I have known my Saviour.
In Heaven He found no grief, nor blame
To bear away, no bitter shame
Of death and sin, and so He came
To earth to be its Saviour.
To bear away, no bitter shame
Of death and sin, and so He came
To earth to be its Saviour.
And had there been in all this wide
Wide world no other soul beside
But only mine, then He had died
That He might be its Saviour;
Wide world no other soul beside
But only mine, then He had died
That He might be its Saviour;
One wounded spirit, sore opprest,
One wearied soul that found no rest
Until it found it on the breast
Of Him that was its Saviour;—
One wearied soul that found no rest
Until it found it on the breast
Of Him that was its Saviour;—
Then had He left His Father's throne,
The joy untold, the love unknown,
And for that soul had given His own,
That He might be its Saviour.
The joy untold, the love unknown,
And for that soul had given His own,
That He might be its Saviour.
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And oh! that He fulfilled may see
The travail of His soul in me,
And with His work contented be,
As I with my dear Saviour!
The travail of His soul in me,
And with His work contented be,
As I with my dear Saviour!
Yea, living, dying, let me bring
My strength, my solace from this spring,
That He who lives to be my King,
Once died to be my Saviour!
My strength, my solace from this spring,
That He who lives to be my King,
Once died to be my Saviour!
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REPENTANCE.
If the Lord were to send down blessings from Heaven as fast and as thick as the fall
Of the drops of the rain, of the flakes of the snow, I'd love and I'd bless Him for all;
But the gift that I'd crave, and the gift that I'd keep if I'd only one to choose,
Is the gift of a broken and contrite heart, for that God will not refuse.
Of the drops of the rain, of the flakes of the snow, I'd love and I'd bless Him for all;
But the gift that I'd crave, and the gift that I'd keep if I'd only one to choose,
Is the gift of a broken and contrite heart, for that God will not refuse.
For what is my wish, and what is my hope, when I've toiled, and I've prayed, and I've striven
All the days that I live upon earth? It is this—to be forgiven!
And what is my wish, and what is my hope but to end where I begin,
With an eye that looks to my Saviour, and a heart that mourns for its sin?
All the days that I live upon earth? It is this—to be forgiven!
And what is my wish, and what is my hope but to end where I begin,
With an eye that looks to my Saviour, and a heart that mourns for its sin?
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What! perhaps you'll think that I'm going to say I'm the chief of sinners, and then
You'd tell me, for aught that you've ever seen, I'm not worse than other men.
I've nothing to do with better and worse, I haven't to judge for the rest;
If other men are not better than me, they're bad enough at the best.
You'd tell me, for aught that you've ever seen, I'm not worse than other men.
I've nothing to do with better and worse, I haven't to judge for the rest;
If other men are not better than me, they're bad enough at the best.
I've nothing to do with other folks—it isn't for me to say
What sort of men the Scribes might be, or the Pharisees in their day;
But we know that it wasn't for such as they that the Kingdom of Heaven was meant,
And we're told we shall likewise perish unless we do repent.
What sort of men the Scribes might be, or the Pharisees in their day;
But we know that it wasn't for such as they that the Kingdom of Heaven was meant,
And we're told we shall likewise perish unless we do repent.
Why, what have I done, perhaps you'll say, that should make me fret and grieve?
I didn't wrangle, or curse, or swear, I didn't lie or thieve;
I'm clear of cheating, and drinking, and debt; well, perhaps, but I cannot say;
For some of these things I hadn't a mind, and some didn't come in my way.
I didn't wrangle, or curse, or swear, I didn't lie or thieve;
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For some of these things I hadn't a mind, and some didn't come in my way.
And there's many a thing I could wish undone, though the law might not be broke,
And there's many a word, now I come to think, that I could wish unspoke.
I did what I thought would answer the best, and I said just what came to my mind;
I wasn't so honest that I need boast, and I'm sure that I wasn't kind.
And there's many a word, now I come to think, that I could wish unspoke.
I did what I thought would answer the best, and I said just what came to my mind;
I wasn't so honest that I need boast, and I'm sure that I wasn't kind.
For we'll come to the things that I left undone, and then there'll be more to say;
And we'll ask for the broken hearts that I cheered, and the tears that I wiped away;
I thought of myself, and wrought for myself—for myself and for none beside,
Just as if Jesus had never lived, and as if He had never died.
And we'll ask for the broken hearts that I cheered, and the tears that I wiped away;
I thought of myself, and wrought for myself—for myself and for none beside,
Just as if Jesus had never lived, and as if He had never died.
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But since my Lord has looked on me, and since He has bid me look
Once in my heart, and once in my life, and once in His blessed book,
And once on the cross where He died for me, He has taught me that I must mend,
If I'd have Him to be my Saviour, and keep Him to be my friend.
Once in my heart, and once in my life, and once in His blessed book,
And once on the cross where He died for me, He has taught me that I must mend,
If I'd have Him to be my Saviour, and keep Him to be my friend.
Since He's taken this long account of mine, and has crossed it through and through;
If He's left me nothing at all to pay, He's given me enough to do.
He's shown me things that I never knew with all my worry and care,
Things that have brought me down to my knees, and things that will keep me there.
If He's left me nothing at all to pay, He's given me enough to do.
He's shown me things that I never knew with all my worry and care,
Things that have brought me down to my knees, and things that will keep me there.
He has shown me the law that works in Him, and the law that works in me,
Life unto life, and death unto death, and He's asked how these agree.
He has made me weary of self and pelf—Yes! my Saviour has bid me grieve
For the days and the years when I did not pray, when I did not love, nor believe.
Life unto life, and death unto death, and He's asked how these agree.
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For the days and the years when I did not pray, when I did not love, nor believe.
Since He's taken this cold dark heart of mine, and has pierced it through and through,
He's taught me to grieve both for things that I did, and for things that I didn't do.
He has shown me the cross where He died for me, and I'll end where I begin,
With an eye that looks to my Saviour, and a heart that mourns for its sin!
He's taught me to grieve both for things that I did, and for things that I didn't do.
He has shown me the cross where He died for me, and I'll end where I begin,
With an eye that looks to my Saviour, and a heart that mourns for its sin!
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CONVERSION.
THE PITMAN TO HIS WIFE.
Sit ye down on the settle, here by me, I've got something to say to thee, wife;
I want to be a new sort of man, and to lead a new sort of life:
There's but little pleasure and little gain in spending the days I spend,
Just to work like a horse all the days of my life, and to die like a dog at the end.
I want to be a new sort of man, and to lead a new sort of life:
There's but little pleasure and little gain in spending the days I spend,
Just to work like a horse all the days of my life, and to die like a dog at the end.
For where's the profit and where's the good, if one once begins to think,
In making away with what little sense one had at the first, through drink?
Or in spending one's time and one's money, too, with a lot of chaps that would go
To see one hang'd, and like it as well as any other show?
In making away with what little sense one had at the first, through drink?
Or in spending one's time and one's money, too, with a lot of chaps that would go
To see one hang'd, and like it as well as any other show?
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And as to the pleasure that some folks find in cards or in pitch and toss,
It's little they've ever brought to me but only a vast of loss;
We'd be sure to light on some great dispute, and then to set all right,
The shortest way was to argue it out in a regular stand-up fight.
It's little they've ever brought to me but only a vast of loss;
We'd be sure to light on some great dispute, and then to set all right,
The shortest way was to argue it out in a regular stand-up fight.
I've got a will, dear wife, I say, I've got a will to be
A kinder father to my poor bairns, and a better man to thee,
And to leave off drinking, and swearing, and all, no matter what folks may say;
For I see what's the end of such things as these, and I know this is not the way.
A kinder father to my poor bairns, and a better man to thee,
And to leave off drinking, and swearing, and all, no matter what folks may say;
For I see what's the end of such things as these, and I know this is not the way.
You'll wonder to hear me talk like this, as I've never talked before;
But I've got a word in my heart, that has made it glad, yet has made it sore.
I've got a word like a fire in my heart that will not let me be,
“Jesus, the Son of God, who loved, and who gave Himself for me.”
But I've got a word in my heart, that has made it glad, yet has made it sore.
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“Jesus, the Son of God, who loved, and who gave Himself for me.”
I've got a word like a sword in my heart, that has pierced it through and through.
When a message comes to a man from Heaven he needn't ask if it's true;
There's none on earth could frame such a tale, for as strange as the tale may be,
Jesus, my Saviour, that thou should'st die for love of a man like me!
When a message comes to a man from Heaven he needn't ask if it's true;
There's none on earth could frame such a tale, for as strange as the tale may be,
Jesus, my Saviour, that thou should'st die for love of a man like me!
Why, only think, now! if it had been Peter, or blessed Paul,
Or John, who used to lean on his breast, one couldn't have wondered at all,
If He'd loved and He'd died for men like these, who loved him so well,—but you see
It was me that Jesus loved, wife! He gave Himself for me!
Or John, who used to lean on his breast, one couldn't have wondered at all,
If He'd loved and He'd died for men like these, who loved him so well,—but you see
It was me that Jesus loved, wife! He gave Himself for me!
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It was for me that Jesus died! for me, and a world of men
Just as sinful and just as slow to give back His love again;
He didn't wait till I came to Him, but He loved me at my worst;
He needn't ever have died for me if I could have loved Him first.
Just as sinful and just as slow to give back His love again;
He didn't wait till I came to Him, but He loved me at my worst;
He needn't ever have died for me if I could have loved Him first.
And could'st thou love such a man as me, my Saviour! then I'll take
More heed to this wand'ring soul of mine, if it's only for Thy sake.
For it wasn't that I might spend my days just in work, and in drink, and in strife,
That Jesus, the Son of God, has given His love and has given His life.
More heed to this wand'ring soul of mine, if it's only for Thy sake.
For it wasn't that I might spend my days just in work, and in drink, and in strife,
That Jesus, the Son of God, has given His love and has given His life.
It wasn't that I might spend my life just as my life's been spent,
That He's brought me so near to His mighty cross, and has told me what it meant.
He doesn't need me to die for Him, He only asks me to live;
There's nothing of mine that He wants but my heart, and it's all that I've got to give!
That He's brought me so near to His mighty cross, and has told me what it meant.
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There's nothing of mine that He wants but my heart, and it's all that I've got to give!
I've got a friend, dear wife, I say, I've got a Heavenly friend,
That will show me where I go astray, and will help me how to mend,
That'll make me kinder to my poor bairns, that'll make me better to thee;—
Jesus, the Son of God, who loved, and who gave Himself for me!
That will show me where I go astray, and will help me how to mend,
That'll make me kinder to my poor bairns, that'll make me better to thee;—
Jesus, the Son of God, who loved, and who gave Himself for me!
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THE WIFE'S ANSWER.
I've listened, Geordie, to all thou's said, and now that thou's had thy say
I can but tell thee it's far the best of my hearing this many a day;
Though many a look thou's given to me, and many a word thou's said,
I was pleased enough to get and to hear both before and since we were wed.
I can but tell thee it's far the best of my hearing this many a day;
Though many a look thou's given to me, and many a word thou's said,
I was pleased enough to get and to hear both before and since we were wed.
Thou wast never much of a one for talk, and I reckon there's little need
Of a vast of words between two folks that are always well agreed;
Yet many a talk we've had to ourselves, just sitting here by the fire,
But never a one that's been so much to my heart's content and desire.
Of a vast of words between two folks that are always well agreed;
Yet many a talk we've had to ourselves, just sitting here by the fire,
But never a one that's been so much to my heart's content and desire.
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For if thou could'st take a look in my heart, and read from it line by line,
As one reads from out of a printed book, it would be like this talk of thine;
For I've got a word, a word in my heart, that's made it both glad and sore,
And ye'll wonder to hear me talk like this, that's never talked so before.
As one reads from out of a printed book, it would be like this talk of thine;
For I've got a word, a word in my heart, that's made it both glad and sore,
And ye'll wonder to hear me talk like this, that's never talked so before.
For though I've gone both to chapel and church, and I've minded what I've heard said,
Yet so many things all the sermon through would come in and out of my head;
It might be the bairns, or it might be thee, or what we're to get to eat,
Or what we're to get to wear, or how I'd to manage to make ends meet,
Yet so many things all the sermon through would come in and out of my head;
It might be the bairns, or it might be thee, or what we're to get to eat,
Or what we're to get to wear, or how I'd to manage to make ends meet,
That I've thought, when I've seen the minister stand and give out a beautiful text,
And tell us we're not to take heed for this life, but to give all our minds to the next;
It's easier said than it's done for me, what with waur-day work to do,
And so many folks just with waur-day talk dropping in all the Sunday through.
And tell us we're not to take heed for this life, but to give all our minds to the next;
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And so many folks just with waur-day talk dropping in all the Sunday through.
But now my mind's got another turn, and I see all as clear as glass,
And I've given my heart to the chief concern, and how it has come to pass
I'll tell thee now that we've once begun—it was all through our little lass.
And I've given my heart to the chief concern, and how it has come to pass
I'll tell thee now that we've once begun—it was all through our little lass.
For “Mother,” says she, as she and I were going one night up-stairs,
“Amn't I old enough,” she says, “to give up saying my prayers?
For I've been seven such a long time now, I think I'll be eight very soon,
And it's long since I've had a knife and a fork, and given over using a spoon.”
“Amn't I old enough,” she says, “to give up saying my prayers?
For I've been seven such a long time now, I think I'll be eight very soon,
And it's long since I've had a knife and a fork, and given over using a spoon.”
“Why, what dost thou mean by such talk?” I said, and she turns on me her eyes,
And gives me a look quite innocent, and yet as wise as wise;
“Why, mother,” she says, “there's a lot of things, like saying ‘I will’ and ‘I won't,’
That children are always bid to mind, and that bigger people don't.
And gives me a look quite innocent, and yet as wise as wise;
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That children are always bid to mind, and that bigger people don't.
“And brothers, when they were as young as me, wore their little frocks instead
Of coats and trousers, and little ones are sent oft soon to bed,
And set to learn our AB abs, and I thought that saying one's prayers
Was just like these, for I never see any grown-up folks say theirs.”
Of coats and trousers, and little ones are sent oft soon to bed,
And set to learn our AB abs, and I thought that saying one's prayers
Was just like these, for I never see any grown-up folks say theirs.”
“O bairn,” I said, “have done with thy talk,” for each word was like a knife;
“Of lessons, thou's given thy mother one that'll last her all her life;”
And I knelt down beside her little bed, and all that I could say
Was just “Our Father, Who art in Heaven,” and “Lord, teach me how to pray.”
“Of lessons, thou's given thy mother one that'll last her all her life;”
And I knelt down beside her little bed, and all that I could say
Was just “Our Father, Who art in Heaven,” and “Lord, teach me how to pray.”
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“And pardon,” I said, “a sinner's heart, that comes to Thee on her knees,
And pardon her ways that's been blind so long that it's only now she sees;
And pardon,” I said, “a sinner's life, and give her Thy grace to mend,
And be Thou to me, and be Thou to mine, a Saviour and a Friend.”
And pardon her ways that's been blind so long that it's only now she sees;
And pardon,” I said, “a sinner's life, and give her Thy grace to mend,
And be Thou to me, and be Thou to mine, a Saviour and a Friend.”
It's been on my mind to tell thee this, but I thought thou'd think it strange;
Thou's always got thy own ideas, and thou's not one given to change,
And I thought I'd just hold my peace and wait, for it's little a woman can
Do at her best, let her do her best, without the help of her man.
Thou's always got thy own ideas, and thou's not one given to change,
And I thought I'd just hold my peace and wait, for it's little a woman can
Do at her best, let her do her best, without the help of her man.
It isn't for me to be leadin' thee, but now that thou's taken a start,
We'll go together, for didn't we say the words “Until death us part?”
It'll never part us now, Geordie, for we're seeking the blessed land,
Thou and me and the canny bairns, and we're seeking it hand in hand!
We'll go together, for didn't we say the words “Until death us part?”
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Thou and me and the canny bairns, and we're seeking it hand in hand!
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A GOOD CONFESSION.
[_]
Suggested! by hearing of a tombstone in a country churchyard in Wales, on which was inscribed the name of a man who had lived to some years above eighty, yet was said to be (alluding to his conversion to Christ) only “four years old when he died.”
If you ask me how long I have been in the world, I'm old—I'm very old;
If you ask me how many years I've lived, it'll very soon be told—
Past eighty years of age, yet only four years old!
If you ask me how many years I've lived, it'll very soon be told—
Past eighty years of age, yet only four years old!
Eighty years and more astray upon the mountains high,
In a land that's full of pits and snares, and that's desolate and dry.
I've oft been weary, oft been cold, and oft been like to die;
In a land that's full of pits and snares, and that's desolate and dry.
I've oft been weary, oft been cold, and oft been like to die;
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And there I'd have wandered, wandered still, as I'd wandered many a day;
I'd lost the track-marks of the flock, I'd got so far away,
If Jesus hadn't met me, that seeks for them that stray.
I'd lost the track-marks of the flock, I'd got so far away,
If Jesus hadn't met me, that seeks for them that stray.
The Shepherd took me in His arms, for you see I'm getting old,
And my strength is, as the Psalmist says, gone like a tale that's told;
“And other sheep,” the Shepherd says, “I have, and to the fold
And my strength is, as the Psalmist says, gone like a tale that's told;
“And other sheep,” the Shepherd says, “I have, and to the fold
“Them also must I bring,” for He has many little lambs,
All milk-white, mild, and innocent, a-skipping by their dams;
And many sheep that have been driven along the dusty roads,
Hard driven along by dogs and men, and pricked with iron goads,
And marked with iron brands to show they've oft been bought and sold;
Brown ragged sheep, with fleeces torn, and faces wizened and old;
All milk-white, mild, and innocent, a-skipping by their dams;
And many sheep that have been driven along the dusty roads,
Hard driven along by dogs and men, and pricked with iron goads,
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Brown ragged sheep, with fleeces torn, and faces wizened and old;
And if you ask me which of these I think He loves the best—
The lambs or sheep—I cannot say; He'll love me with the rest;
For “Feed my little lambs,” He said when He gave His flock to keep,
To Peter, once, and twice He said to Peter, “Feed my sheep.”
The lambs or sheep—I cannot say; He'll love me with the rest;
For “Feed my little lambs,” He said when He gave His flock to keep,
To Peter, once, and twice He said to Peter, “Feed my sheep.”
He's got a garden full of flowers, all planted row by row,
Roses and pinks and mignonette a-coming into blow,
And many little pleasant herbs that near each other grow:
Roses and pinks and mignonette a-coming into blow,
And many little pleasant herbs that near each other grow:
Balm o' Gilead, mint and thyme, and sage and marjorie,
And many a dry old stick and stalk, and many a withered tree,
That's neither good for use nor show, and these are folks like me;
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That's neither good for use nor show, and these are folks like me;
And many such-like ones He's got, but Scripture sayeth, “Lo!
He taketh such and maketh them to flourish and to grow;”
He taketh such and maketh them to flourish and to grow;”
For He's not a man that He should judge by seeing of His eyes,
He's not a Son of man that He should any one despise;
He's God Himself, and far too kind for that, and far too wise.
He's not a Son of man that He should any one despise;
He's God Himself, and far too kind for that, and far too wise.
He's God Himself, come down from Heaven to raise us when we fall;
He's come to heal us when we're sick, to hear us when we call;
If He hadn't come to do us good, He wouldn't have come at all.
He's come to heal us when we're sick, to hear us when we call;
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And “Ask, He says, and I will give, and knock, and I to you
Will open,” Jesus says to us, and I know that it is true,—
It isn't Him would say the things He doesn't mean to do.
Will open,” Jesus says to us, and I know that it is true,—
It isn't Him would say the things He doesn't mean to do.
He didn't come to judge the world, He didn't come to blame,
He didn't only come to seek; it was to save He came;
And when we call Him Saviour, then we call Him by His name.
He didn't only come to seek; it was to save He came;
And when we call Him Saviour, then we call Him by His name.
He sought for me when I was lost, He brought me to His fold;
He doesn't look for much from me, for He doesn't need be told
I'm past eighty years of age, and yet but four years old!
He doesn't look for much from me, for He doesn't need be told
I'm past eighty years of age, and yet but four years old!
July 30, 1872.
The expressions underlined in this and in the following verses, referring to our Blessed Saviour, the author heard used by a very poor and extremely ignorant person.
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AN INVITATION.
(MISSION HYMN.)
“This man receiveth sinners.”
Come, hearts that are blighted and broken and bruised;
Come, spirits benighted, rejected, refused;
Come, look on your Saviour! Behold Him, He stands
With a wound in His heart, and a world in His hands.
Come, spirits benighted, rejected, refused;
Come, look on your Saviour! Behold Him, He stands
With a wound in His heart, and a world in His hands.
Come now, ye transgressors through force and through fraud;
Come now, ye oppressors, and look on your Lord;
Oh come, ye deceivers; oh come, ye deceived;
Come slave and come tyrant; come, grieving and grieved.
Come now, ye oppressors, and look on your Lord;
Oh come, ye deceivers; oh come, ye deceived;
Come slave and come tyrant; come, grieving and grieved.
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Come, men who are mighty to curse and revile;
Come, women whose lips have forgot how to smile;
Come, bond-slaves, come sin-slaves, come drunkards, come thieves;
Come hither to Jesus; 'tis such He receives.
Come, women whose lips have forgot how to smile;
Come, bond-slaves, come sin-slaves, come drunkards, come thieves;
Come hither to Jesus; 'tis such He receives.
Come, outcast, abandoned, of devils the prey;
Come, now unto One that is stronger than they;
Come, dwellers in darkness; come, neighbours to hell,
Where man dare not enter, the Spirit can dwell.
Come, now unto One that is stronger than they;
Come, dwellers in darkness; come, neighbours to hell,
Where man dare not enter, the Spirit can dwell.
And fear not, though Legion should still be their name,
Deeds nameless, deeds shameless, that bring you to shame;
Oh, fear not, poor sinners, let this be your fear,—
To miss the kind Saviour who waits for you here.
Deeds nameless, deeds shameless, that bring you to shame;
Oh, fear not, poor sinners, let this be your fear,—
To miss the kind Saviour who waits for you here.
For all your distresses, excesses, and need,
His love and his pity unceasingly plead,
Your deepest demerit His blood can efface;
Come, sinners, inherit the treasure of grace!
His love and his pity unceasingly plead,
Your deepest demerit His blood can efface;
Come, sinners, inherit the treasure of grace!
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Yea, if there be any who bear a dark stain
On brow and on bosom, the blood-mark of Cain,
'Tis Abel who loves you, 'tis Abel who pleads;
For the brother who slew him He now intercedes.
On brow and on bosom, the blood-mark of Cain,
'Tis Abel who loves you, 'tis Abel who pleads;
For the brother who slew him He now intercedes.
Come, kneeling before Him, adore Him, and grow
More pure than the sunbeam, more white than the snow;
He chose you, come, choose Him your Saviour, who died;
Fear only to lose Him; fear nothing beside!
More pure than the sunbeam, more white than the snow;
He chose you, come, choose Him your Saviour, who died;
Fear only to lose Him; fear nothing beside!
September 8.
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EVERLASTING LOVE.
Come and sit by my bed awhile, Jeanie; there's just a little space.
Betwixt light and dark, and the fire is low and I cannot see your face;
But I like to feel I've hold of your hand, and to know I've got you near,
For kind and good you've been, Jeanie, the time that I've been here.
Betwixt light and dark, and the fire is low and I cannot see your face;
But I like to feel I've hold of your hand, and to know I've got you near,
For kind and good you've been, Jeanie, the time that I've been here.
“Kind and good you've been, Jeanie, when all was so dull and strange;
I was left to myself, and was not myself, and I seemed too old to change,
And I couldn't get framed to the House's ways; it was neither work nor play;
It wasn't at all like being at home, and it wasn't like being away.
I was left to myself, and was not myself, and I seemed too old to change,
And I couldn't get framed to the House's ways; it was neither work nor play;
It wasn't at all like being at home, and it wasn't like being away.
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“And the days slipt on and the years slipped on, and I felt in a kind of dream,
As I used to do in the noisy school sewing a long white seam;
Sewing, sewing a long white seam the whole of the summer day,
When I'd like to have been in the open fields either at work or at play.
As I used to do in the noisy school sewing a long white seam;
Sewing, sewing a long white seam the whole of the summer day,
When I'd like to have been in the open fields either at work or at play.
“But now I feel as I used to feel in the summer evenings cool,
When we bairns would meet at the end of the street, or the edge of the village pool;
Or like when I've stood at the gate to wait for father home from the town,
And held him tight by the hand, or held my mother tight by the gown.
When we bairns would meet at the end of the street, or the edge of the village pool;
Or like when I've stood at the gate to wait for father home from the town,
And held him tight by the hand, or held my mother tight by the gown.
“And I feel to-night as I used to feel when I was a little lass,
When something seemed alive in the leaves and something astir in the grass;
And all in the room seems warm and light, and I'm pleased to go or to stay;
But I've got a word in my heart, Jeanie, that's calling me away.”
When something seemed alive in the leaves and something astir in the grass;
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But I've got a word in my heart, Jeanie, that's calling me away.”
“Oh, what have you seen, Nannie, have you seen a blessed sight
Of angels coming to meet you; have you heard them at dead of night?”
“Oh, nothing, nothing like that, Jeanie, but what saith the blessed Word?
God speaketh once, yea twice, unto man, when never a voice is heard.
Of angels coming to meet you; have you heard them at dead of night?”
“Oh, nothing, nothing like that, Jeanie, but what saith the blessed Word?
God speaketh once, yea twice, unto man, when never a voice is heard.
“And He's given a word unto me, Jeanie—a word and a holy thought
Of something I've never found upon earth, and something I've always sought;
Of something I never thought that I'd find till I found it in Heaven above;
It's Love He has given to me, Jeanie, His everlasting love.
Of something I've never found upon earth, and something I've always sought;
Of something I never thought that I'd find till I found it in Heaven above;
It's Love He has given to me, Jeanie, His everlasting love.
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“I'm old, Jeanie, poor and old, and I've had to work hard for my bread;
It's long since father and mother died, and ye know I was never wed;
And the most of my life's been spent in Place, and in places where I have been,
If I've heard a little talk about love, it's been work I've mostly seen.
It's long since father and mother died, and ye know I was never wed;
And the most of my life's been spent in Place, and in places where I have been,
If I've heard a little talk about love, it's been work I've mostly seen.
“And in summer the days were long and light, and in winter short and cold,
Till at last I was good for work no more, for you see I'm getting old;
And I knew there was nothing left for me but to come to the House, and I cried,
But if I was not good for work, what was I good for beside?
Till at last I was good for work no more, for you see I'm getting old;
And I knew there was nothing left for me but to come to the House, and I cried,
But if I was not good for work, what was I good for beside?
“And still when I went to chapel and church, I heard of love and of love;
It was something I hadn't met with on earth, and that hadn't come down from above;
It was something I'd heard of, but never seen, that I'd wished for and hadn't found,
But I liked to hear of love and of love, it had such a beautiful sound.
It was something I hadn't met with on earth, and that hadn't come down from above;
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But I liked to hear of love and of love, it had such a beautiful sound.
“And I used to think, perhaps it was meant for richer people and higher,
Like the little maid that sits at church beside her father the Squire,
For the angels that always live above, or for good folks after they die;
But now it has come to me, I know it is nigh and is very nigh.”
Like the little maid that sits at church beside her father the Squire,
For the angels that always live above, or for good folks after they die;
But now it has come to me, I know it is nigh and is very nigh.”
“Oh, tell me what have you seen, Nannie; have you seen a shining light?
Have you heard the angels that harp and sing to their golden harps at night?”
“Oh, Jeanie, woman, I couldn't have thought of such things as these if I'd tried;
It was God Himself that spoke to me; it was Him, and none beside.
Have you heard the angels that harp and sing to their golden harps at night?”
“Oh, Jeanie, woman, I couldn't have thought of such things as these if I'd tried;
It was God Himself that spoke to me; it was Him, and none beside.
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“It wasn't a voice that spoke in my ear, but a Word that came to my soul,
And it isn't a little love I've got in my heart when I've got the whole;
It is peace, it is joy, that has filled it up as a cup is filled to its brim;
Just to know that Jesus died for me, and that I am one with Him.
And it isn't a little love I've got in my heart when I've got the whole;
It is peace, it is joy, that has filled it up as a cup is filled to its brim;
Just to know that Jesus died for me, and that I am one with Him.
“It's love, Jeanie, that's come to me as nigh as you're now, and nigher;
It's love that'll never change, Jeanie, it's love that'll never tire,
Though I'm old and I'm poor, and deaf, and dark, —and the most of folks that I see,
Be they ever so kind I'd weary of them, or they'd soon grow weary of me.
It's love that'll never change, Jeanie, it's love that'll never tire,
Though I'm old and I'm poor, and deaf, and dark, —and the most of folks that I see,
Be they ever so kind I'd weary of them, or they'd soon grow weary of me.
“And this isn't the House any more! it's Home, and I'm pleased to go or to stay;
I'm not a woman weary with work, or a little lass at play;
I'm a child with its hand in its father's hand, its head on its mother's breast;
It's Christ, Jeanie, that's bid me come to Him, and that's given me rest.
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I'm a child with its hand in its father's hand, its head on its mother's breast;
It's Christ, Jeanie, that's bid me come to Him, and that's given me rest.
“And it isn't little God's given to me, though He's kept it to the end,—
It's wealth that the richest cannot buy, that the poorest can never spend;
And I needn't wait till I go to Heaven, for it's Heaven come down from above;
It's love, Jeanie, God's given to me, His everlasting love!”
It's wealth that the richest cannot buy, that the poorest can never spend;
And I needn't wait till I go to Heaven, for it's Heaven come down from above;
It's love, Jeanie, God's given to me, His everlasting love!”
“I knew that Jesus was my Saviour, and that I was one with Him:” words used by an aged, humble believer, in describing a manifestation which had conveyed unspeakable peace to her soul, at a time of great bodily weakness, and in the near prospect of death.
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When the wandering son had consumed his father's substance, he returned home to sorrowfully announce himself: the father saith not, “Whence comest thou?” or “Where is now all thy patrimony?” but “Bring hither the new garment; kill the fatted calf; let us now rejoice; my son was dead and is alive.” Here was a welcome home that might amaze him.
Though we sometimes lose the nature of children, yet God doth never lose the name, nay, the nature of a father—a name of privilege to His children. He is not only a father, but our father, and that which is more, a father in heaven, that howsoever we are disturbed in earth, the comfort is we have a father in heaven.
God is not such a one as Adam took Him to be, from whom when he had sinned he should fly and hide himself for fear; but God is such a one to whom Adam and all that have sinned may have access with hope and love.
“Mine iniquity is greater than can be forgiven.” No, Cain, thou errest; God's mercy is far greater, couldst thou ask mercy. Men cannot be more sinful than God is merciful, if with penitent hearts they will call upon Him. —From an Old Writer.
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