f. POEMS AND HYMNS BY :Rev. CIIAS. INNES CAMERON, M.A. OKKLONO. JOHN PURDIE, 81 MOORABOOL-STBEET. 1870. CU*!^ \ ^ " ' ' K I' ' .' ' 1 F be; ACE. Op the pieces in this volume which the Author, more from conventional usage than from any sense of special fitness, has ventured to call " Poems," ho has little to say. As the composition of them has profit- ably filled up some hours of leisure or forced idleness, he trusts that the reading of them may not be alto- gether without pleasure or profit. But the special object of the publication is to obtain the opinion of Christian people in regard to the few Hymns which the volume contains. The Author came to the conclusion, a good many years ago, that his was not the poet's vocation, and that even as a secondary pursuit he could not expect to accomplish much good by the study. For some time, however, the convic- tion has been growing in his mind, that although in the general field of poetry there is no place w^hich he could expect usefully and honorably to occupy, yet in the kindred and in his estimation, more important field of hymnology, his labors might not be altogether in vain. .But so many and so important are the other objects which can be pursued consistently with our special calling, that the Author feels reluctant, Mrithout a strong conviction of his fitness for such a work, to devote his spa^'e time to the writing IT of hymns. Has he a talent entrusted to him which he is bound to employ in the Mast'^r's service, or is it only a rudimentary tendency which must be repressed or indulged in only as a pastime ? To help him to decide the question, he has ventured to publish this volume. As far as the " Poems," are concerned he is not very careful what verdict may be passed, as he has no intentions of writing others. In regard to the "' Hymns," if he finds that the opinions of God's people are favorable, he will be encouraged to persevere in a work, in prosecuting which he might otherwise feel irresolute. Greelong, 1S70. CONTENTS. [ams. PAGE. ILLUSION : A VISION OP FOLLY. TAKT I.— THE ENTEKPUISE 1 „ 11.— APOTHEOSIS ... 7 „ III.— CONSEQUENCES ... 14 ,, IV.— THE UNASSAILABLE ]9 „ v.— THE INEVITABLE . 24 DAYDEEAMS AND PUHPOSES. PEOLOaUE 31 PABI I. — DATDliEAAlS 34 „ II.— PUEPOSES 38 UKDEE TEE UPAS TEBE 42 NIGHT 45 HEAET-BEOKEN ... 47 THte HEEE AND THE UEUEAFTEE ... 50 times and seasons 52 time's teeasuees 55 eilean-na-cea0i1)ue 57 TO THE SEA 61 SEA-SIDE MUSINGS 64 ON THE ATLANTIC QQ ▼I sms. OUT OP THE DEPTHS THE BETTEB CHOICE A LITTIE WHILE A SONG IN THE NIGHT THE believer's PLEA THE BEST FBIEITD ... SOWING IN HOPE COMFORT IN JESUS ... ALONE WITH GOD ... THE CITY OF REFUGE A WISH •*• ••• ••• ••• ••• ••• • • • • • • • • • • • 71 75 77 79 81 83 86 88 90 92 94 ipna. THE rOUNQ pilgrim's PRAYER SONS OF GOD THE EVER-LITINa REDEEMER OUR HOPE A SONG OF TRIUMPH PRAISE TO CHRIST ABBA FATHER THE GLORY THAT EXCELS ... CITIZENS OF HEAVEN LONGING 97 99 101 103 106 108 110 112 115 118 POEMS. ILLTJSIOICT A VISION OF FOLLY. THE ENTEEPEISE. The Sun had almost set. His lessening beams Gilded with golden light The radiant clouds, the seas and flashing streams, The vale and mountain height. A balmy softness floated all around, As if from living lips Breathing upon the soul ; a mingled sound From vale and woodland slips in. "Was wafted gently ; sylvan bursts of song And childish merriment, Lightening the hum of harvest work. Along The country's wide extent THE ENTEBPRTSE. IV. Joy was the garb of Nature, joy her voice ; That quiet evening hour Bade all in the departing light rejoice, An ever present power. V. Sharing the general joy I wandered slow ; There reached me through the sky The sound of rushing wings, and turning, lo ! Three spirits standing nigh. -^ I VI. Their giant forms against the sky uprose Like nought of human birth, As resting in their flight they sought repose A moment on the Earth. : y' . '■ '.'"'■.'■ vn. The first their leader seemed. Around his head A coronet was seen Of burnished gold ; his flaming eyes surveyed All things with vision keen, vin. [played Which seemed to pierce to nature's core ; there Around his lips a smile Of mingled pride and scorn, his wings half-spread Impatient for the toil. THE ENTEBPBTSE. 3 IX. The next, a being framed in human mould With sensuous earth-lit eye, Of giant frame, assertive, prompt and bold, A son of earth you spy. Of heavenly form and face the third would seen. With dull and tarnished grace ; In gold and tinsel decked, an earthly gleam O'er all you still might trace. XL. I heard them talking. In a haughty tone The first spake, " What is he That he should arrogate to himself alone Such power and majesty ? xrt. ," What need of idle forms ? In nature lies A universal power. The essence of eternal harmonies, Which of itself each hour xrn. " In varying mode is manifest. Although Yon haughty king were shorn Of all his glory, and his power brought low, ^or ever more return a2 THE ENTERPRISE, xrv. '* Unto his empire, yet would all things still Be full of life and joy ; The worlds would gravitate, the light would fill The Earth and vaulted sky. X¥. " Come, spread your pinions, let us mount again, I long to prove his claim Over the Earth and sister worlds to reign Is but an empty name." XYI. His earth-born comrade, " Fitly said ; while he Retains his place above, Our place is only second ; it shall be Our triumph to remove xvn. " And place him with his fellows. Hath he power ? So have we also. Now In deeds, not words, let's prove it ; from this hour Let earth and heaven know ~ . " xvui. " That we are gods, and godlike actions do In our self-gotten might, Nor dare assign to him the homage due To us of native right. THE ENXlOtPEISE. XIX. " Besides, a milder heat, a softer light Our need would satisfy j Tor me, I'd rather dwell iu deepest night Thaa 'neath his burning eye." XX. The third, « In truth he Uvea too high— too ikr To wake our sympathies ; Better a lamp at hand, than sun or star Lost in the mazy skies. XXI. " Our homage will be truer, heartier, when Its object takes his place, Manlike among a race of godlike men. To light a kindred race." XXII. They spoke, and seaward took their eager flight Towards the setting day — - flight The murmuring waves were tipped with golden Across the ample bay. XXTTT. I followed : far away our pathway stretched Until the day was done, And evening shades had fallen, when we reached The palace of the Sun. TILE EJSTEfiPEISE. ' XXIT. The Monarch lay upon a royal bed Of clouds celestial fair, A rosy radiance from his limbs was shed, Which toned the evening air, XXT. And lit the earth with twilight ; from his brow His crown was laid aside, The glory of his countenance burnt low, His golden locks were dyed XXVI. "With fainter lire, the drooping lids were closed Over his eyes to screen Their scathing light, as grandly he reposed In majesty serene. ':'-i'}' - ,; '^-'' xxvn. . Like swooping vultures down those spirits swept, Upon their helpless prey : They took him bound in fetters as he slept, And bore to earth away. »o«=- I'^HT 11. APOTHEOSIS. That night beneath the shining of the stars Was heard on road and street The tramp of horse, the whirr of rushing cars, The tread of many feet, wu As gathering crowds hastened from near and far, With expectation high. To the appointed rendezvous to share In the great victory . :- ttt ■ r "■came Gained by their champion. Thousands thronging Into the hall of night, Lighted by myriad lamps whose wondrous flame Eivalled the noonday light, IT. Where sat the illustrious three. Above the rest Their leader took his place, As if of innate kingliness possessed, As well as outward grace. 8 . APOTHEOSIS. T. His comrade spirits close on either hand In conscious triumph sat ; Around them ranged the illustrious of the laud Decked in imposing state. VI. Kings, statesmen, nobles, priests, philosophers, All those his hopes who shared And triumphed in his triumph, his and theirs. Were there that night prepared vn. To load with honors due the spirit whose Strong wing had braved the skies. And won such victory. At their call he rose And stood in noble guise vm. Before the admiring crowd. No vanity, No hate, nor love had place In his keen eye, no flush of victory Upon his calm proud £a.ce ; IX. Only that now and then a shade was seen Flashing a darker hue, As if some black abysmal depth within A moment came to view ; APCfTHEOMIS A second self it seemed, an inner life "WTiich might in time o'er spread Tiie outer life, and which in deadly strife A helpless foe might dread. XI. He spake ; the hum of admiration stilled The vast assembly o'er, His calm strong voice with softest cadence filled The hall from roof to floor. XH, " Men shall I call you ? Eather gods henceforth, No other gods there be Within our knowledge ; Nature's noblest birth And highest rank are ye. xin. " That being who so long usurped the place Of Sovereign of the sky, . -*- Professing to dispense with smiling face Light, heat, and harmony ; XIV. " Who reigned o'er earth with scarce disputed sway, And at his lordly will, Capricious, blundering, partial, ruled the day And rolling seasons, still 10 APOTHEOSIS. XV. " Exints, but 'tis as one among his peers ; He cannot work you harm Nor thwart yoiir will. Per you, the coming years Your work is to reform. XVI. " For now no more his influence severe Shall dazzle with blinding light, Or scorch with heat one portion of our sphere, And leave the rest in night xvn. " Or chilUng frost. No tempest now shall sweep O'er the infuriate sea ; No drought, no blight, no pestilence shall steep The world in misery. xvm. " Day shall succeed the night, and night the day, Seasons shall roll their round In sweeter change, while he who once held sway Is here a captive bound. « XIX. " Meanwhile do ye where Nature's secrets hide In sea, or earth, or air, Enter, and thence from regions far and wide Bich loads of knowledge bear. APOTHEOSIS. 11 XX. " Nature your Empire is — your storehouse too Of boundless power and art ; Brute art and power, dumb and blind till you Intelligence impart. xzi. " Assert your deity, your right to call This boundless power forth, Direct, control, restrain, impel, tUl all Own you the Lords of Earth ! " xxn. While thus the spirit spoke the multitude Gazed on his wondrous fe,ce, Dazzling, angelic ; calm and proud he stood Before them in his place. xxui. Entranced they listen to his forceful words, The subtle eloquence, Which, unimpassioned, stirred the deepest chords Of passion, pride, and sense. XXIV. He ceased ; a space the echoes of his tongue Seemed hovering o'er the crowd. Till burst the shouts above che surging throng Of acclamation loud: 12 ATOXUEOalB. XXV. " A preaeut god," they cried, * a god ! a god ! In wisdom, power and right, Man's great ideal thou. Be thine abode With us and in thy light XXVI. " Still let us live and triumph find. Too long The usurper had retained That empire which to us and thee belong. And now by thee regained, XXVII. " And placed within our grasp. Be ours the cause That empire now to guard, And prove by power o'er nature's subject kws That man alone is lord. xxvin. ** If gods we are, the only lawful source Of true authority — This world our own, with all its varied force And latent mystery — XXIX. " Then let us cast away and quite destroy All badges of his power, Who captive is, and reign on earth in joy And freedom evermore." APOTITEOSTS. 13 XXX. ThPTi wilder tumult rose, and cruel mirth The crotrd from side to side Filled with demoniac passion. " Bring him forth," The heartless rabble cried, XXXI. " That he may make us sport." With impious heart, They dared his crown to take, His royal robes among themselves did part. His kingly sceptre brake, xxxn. And cast away ; they quenched the glowing light Of those bright glorious eyes. That beamed in beauty from the womb of night, And bade the morn arise xxxm. Upon a darkened world ; his limbs they bound With harsh and cruel thrall. And chained and blinded thus they led him round A spectacle to all. XXXTV. Then rose the shouts of merriment amain. And brutal triumph loud, Housing the echoes of the night again From forest, hill and cloud. 14 I'.A.-R.'r III. , CONSEQUENCES. ^'e heard in grief and silence ; for we knew That night's primeval reign Had now returned ; our eyes should never view The blessed light again ; No morning star upon our dwelling cast Its calm and hopeful ray, No faint aurora brighten in the east To usher in the day. f in. Slowly and wearily the hours moved by, * The darkness deepened still, The sinking winds moved past with fainter sigh, The air grew damp and chill ; rr. Creation drooped and languished ; terror lay On Nature everywhere ; The stars from heaven with pale and ghostly ray, Looked downward like the glare CONSEQLENCES. 15 Of dead men's eyes that, with reproaching, look Into the murderer's To chill and freeze his soul. All hope forsook The heart, the utterers VI. Forgot their words, and listened anxiously With bated heart and breath For some appalling horror, tremblingly. As in the Halls of Death. vn. The darkness deeper grew ; the lamps of night Paled and grew lustreless. Then died, as pales and dies a waxen light Choked in mephitic gas. vrrt. The expected Moon arose not o'er the scene. To light with welcome ray The argent wave, green earth, and blue serene, And bring a softened day. "We waited, but she came not ; for she slept That night an endless sleep ; Her Lord and Life that gave her life, and kept Her light, could no man keep. X6 CONSEQUENCES. The silence deepened ; fitfully and few The bursts of revelry .^-^w Startling the stillness reached us, fainter grew, And then ceased utterly, ^ ^ ■-;-7,;rv ■'-■/::/--:'^-'-'']:' ' : XI. ■.■'■:•;-;,'; .,; ^ . And hushed and voiceless silence like the tomb Fell on the revellers. Soon [dome The sun-bright lamps, which hung from roof and Making the midnight noon, ' Plar'd with a dull, red, lurid glow amid The darkness which crept in With cold insinuating fold, and hid The walls and room within, xm. Causing the countenance of each to look IJnto the next beside A voiceless apparition ; then they shook, Flickered, and slowly died. XIV. And, as a chill unn ending horror. Death His awful presence spread. Brooding broad-winged o'er all, and with his breath As of the angel dread CONSEQUENCES. 17 XV. Who smote the Assyrian, smote them, till at last Throughout the silent world, All life and order were dissolving fast, Back into Chaos hurled. XVI. Darkness complete, silence unbroken reigned ! Upon these Spirits fell [remained The curse their hands had brought them ; there ^or hope, nor voice to tell xvn. Their triumph, or to boast or utter hate. In pitiful helplessness They sat among the silent crowd which late Q-ave them the lofty place xvni. Of the great Deity, and caused the night To echo their acclaim ; Sat with the consciousness that on them lit The curse and endless shame. XIX. Too late they knew that he the king of light Alone could lead the day ; That life and beauty flourished in his sight, That death and swift decay s lli CONSEQUENCES. xz. Followed his absence ; and in vain they sought For light amid the gloom ; The eternal darkness which their hands had brought Made earth an eternal tomb. — XXI. The vision faded from my brain. I woke. Across the shaded room Came the first rays of morning. Bright it broke Scattering the flying gloom, xxn. And bringing light and gladness. Fervently I thanked the King of light That none can e'er usurp His majesty, Or change His day to night. I» I'-A.HT IV. THE UlSTASSAILABLE. Jehovah Jesus lives ! He lives and reigns ! The uncreated Light, Centre of all existence, still remains Undimmed in glory bright, n. In power supreme, unapproached in his abode ; As when the morning stars Together sang and all the sons of God Shouted for joy, He bears in. The sceptre of the worlds. In vain they try Who would His throne invade, As well attempt to scale the illusive sky, Or plunge the sun in shade. IV. He lives in Heaven ! The burning spirits above Around the Sapphire throne Cherubs of light and Seraphim of love. By and in Him alone B 2 20 , ; THE TJNASSATLABLE. Their being have ; and all their marvellous might, Love and intelligence, Are but the radiance from the eternal height Of His Omnipotence. He lives on Earth below ! The floweret small Bending beneath the dew Of early morn, the forest giant tall, Alike their being drew " ' " [form From Him, whose power still keeps them. Every Of moving life is His From viewless monad or despised worm To man's exalted race. r vm. Because He chooses they have life, and when ' Their death He chooses, they To death return ; monads and mighty men Hear and the word obey. IX. He lives on Earth below ! 'Tis life and light Within His light to be ; Parted from Him there is only death and night, And rayless misery. V THE U2f ASSAILABLE. 21 He reigns in ileaven ! Powers, principalities, Thrones and dominions wide, Submissive serve Him ; throned archangels rise Q;iick at His voice, and bide XI. Calm waiting His disposal. No desire, No wish, no will have they ^ Save only this, with glowing, quencliless fire, To love and to obey. XII. He reigns on Earth below ! The mystic wheeL Begirt with living eyes Unresting roll ; and Grod sometimes reveals Their vast o'er shadowing size xin. Omniscient and omnipotent, flashing past — And oft our souls recall With awe the sight — unsleeping, sovereign, vast. Guiding, controlling all. xrv. He reigns on earth below I His sovereign will His. willing servants wait, And Earth's proud dwellers His commands fulfil Whether in love or hate ; 22 TUE UNASSAILABLE. XV. And must and shall fulfil. Though gathering Princes and Kings conspire Against the Lord and His anointed King, With resolute desire xn. To break their yoke, the Lord that sits in heaven, ■ Secure upon His throne, Shall laugh the boast to scorn ; for He has given The Kingdom to His Son. XVII. And He shall reign, and He does reign supreme O'er Heaven and Earth below; Though for a time to blinded man it seem .. As if it were not so. xvm. The night may come; the King of light contemned May hide His gracious face. And man forgetting God, may be condemned To well-deserved disgrace. XIX. The Pride of Intellect, the Lust of Power And Superstition fell, Eeligion's spectral ghost, may rule the hour, — A Trinity of HeU,— THE UNASSAILABLE. 23 , _ *\^ - \ XX. And filled with rage and helliah malice, cast O'er Earth ti flood of ill "Wasting and overwhehning ; it can waste But as His sovereign will XXI. Will sufier it. He whose Almighty hand The raging seas controls, The wrath of man will stiU. At His command The tide of Passion rolls XXII. Back to its place in silence. Night may come, And Nature's comely face, Chaotic death and ruin may entomb ; 'Tis only for a space. xxni. The day shall also come. And as the mom With fresher lustre breaks After a night of storm, shall day return, When Earth's last mom awakes, xxiy. In fresh and fadeless 'colors. Never more Shall Night regain her sway : The eternal Light shall flood from shore to shore The Earth with eveless day. 24 THE INEVITABLE. Jehovah Jesus lives ! He lives and reigns ! O Earth and Heaven rejoice ! Man is not Grod and reigns not j Christ remains For ever King ; His voice M- The worlds obey, not man's. The bold attempt His empire to o'erthrow, But swift and sure recoils on those who tempt His arm to strike them low. m. puny hands that grasp the scorching flame 1 Your baby strength descry ! Strong only for your own rebuke and shame ; Before the war you try IV. "With boundless Wisdom and Omnipotence Some lowlier enterprise Let prudence dictate ; let intelligence Direct your course ; be wise ! THE INEVITABLE. 25 Go bid the sun in his midday career, His fiery chariot stay, As Joshua did at Aijalon ; his ear Might hear you and obey. VI. Go bid the stormy billows' turmoil cease ; Command the fathomed deep To render back his spoils, and thence in peace Your merchant navies keep. vn. Arrest the rolling lava's fiery track, And quench the hidden fire ; Bid the wild torrent of the mountain back Quick to its source retire ! vin. They are only creatures I Mighty though they are, 'Tis delegated might ; 'T were wise to try the creature ere you dare The Great Creator's right IX. To question. If the simplest law to evade. In God's wide reaching plan Defies your skill, how cope with Him who made And keeps both law and man ? 26 THE INEVITABLE. X. poor great Intellect ! Oh ! pithless power Of men in fetters bound! Vessels of clay that perish in an hour, Albeit so full of sound, XI. And self-assertion loud ; while spared alive, Prefer a humbler path, Let earth's frail potsherds with their fellows strive, But not provoke His wrath xn. Whose power alone sustains you. Know you not That He who from His birth The man of sorrows was ; His work who wrought Upon this weary Earth, xni. A wearier man than any ; on whose brow They placed the crown of thorns, And for a sceptre gave a reed, to show Their bitter hate and scorn, XIV. And mock His claim to kingly honors ; whom Upon the cross of shame They crucified ; and laid within the tomb Lifeless and still — ^the same THE INEVITABLE. 27 XV. Is Sovereign King and Saviour ? Sovereign King As well as Saviour I They Who trust Him find Him precious, but they bring, His word who disobey, XTL Unerring ruin on themselves. For He A stone of stumbling is And of offence a rock. Whoe'er he be That stumbleth at this xvn. Shall broken be ; but upon whomsoe'er Shall fall in wrath this rock, He perish shall. And you, how can you bear. Or how avoid the shock ? xvin. Be therefore wise ye Kings and Bulers all, ■; Priests and ye Ministers Of nature's mysteries, hear Wisdom's call Ye proud Philosophers, XIX. Yield to the Nazarene King. His royal word In lowly reverence hear ; For all in Heaven and Earth must own him Lord,- Whether in love or fear. THE INEVITABLE. And BO HiB grace shall spare your humbled head, When all opposing power In Earth and Heaven, to Jesus shall be made . Subject for ever more; : .-■'":•:■;;•■'■, XXI. "When Love shall reign, and in His smile the Earth In heavenly light shall glow, - And man and nature in the second birth ' .> Their God and King shall know ; j xxn. '';'■'- When o'er the ransomed Earth our yearning sight At last the day shall see, s ^ ■ ^^ When from hill top and shaded vale the night ; For ever more shall flee ; t^ -^^^. ^ ; xxm. And from on high the Sun of Eighteousness Shall end the years of gloom — O Son of David ! Son of God ! to bless Thy Earth, Emmanuel come ! // u DAYDREAMS AlTD PURPOSES : A Poem read at the close of Session 1862-3, Queen's College, Kingston, Ontario, Canada. m DATDBEAMS AND PURPOSES. PEOLOGUE. I. Once more w^e meet. For many a day We have lived and loved and labored here And now before we pass away, Would spend one hour of social cheer. u. The years in varying change have flown Since first we met within this place, And many a bud of Hope has blown, And sorrow clouded many a face. m. Shall we then now these scenes recall And trace the records of the past? Ah no ! The lay would heedless fall This night in silence let them rest. IV. What is the Past ? 'Tis but a dream Where Passion's voice in silence falls. And gleams of Memory fitful stream Like moonbeanis through the empty halls DATDBEAMS AND PURPOSES. T. Of rpined castle, old and lone, On some wild headland by the main ; The revellers long since are gone, And never shall return again. And Quiet sits upon the wall And listens to the fitful moan Of restless waves that rise and fall But tell no stor}'^ out their own. VII. Its joys are like the broke q strings Of harp that sounded tlirough the night, When song and dance awoke the springs Of merriment and wild delight. VIII. Its sorrows like the broken chain That rusts within yon dungeon keep. It wakes no more a double pain, , Nor clanks to make the captive weep. "'" "itL Its Hopes — Alas ! what were they e'er, But gossamer webs in moonlight wrought. And rent before a breath of air They broke, and strewed the wold with — nought. DATDBEAMS AND PtTRPOSES. 33 i. And now that Passion's tide runs hi^h And glimmers in the sunlight bright, "We can't afford a smile or sigh For bye-gone pain or past delight. ;-.;;_-. XI. For facing manhood's grand ideal Eager its mystery to unseal, These shadowy scenes are too unreal The impatient heart's desires to fill. XII. Let then the Past her treasured dead Of joys and griefs in silence hoard. We will not Avake her from her bed, A ghost beside our festive board. xin. While Fanc^v with a fearless hand, Her harp attunes to a bolder key Through the circle of the mystic land, And revels in the bliss to be. ^-:^ryr- m FJ^-E!,T I. PAiDREAMS. I. O Spring ! what beauty slumbering lies W^ithin thy wide extended boundss What harmonies of heavenly sounds What blendings of all brightest dyes. The mantling snow has passed away, The ice-bound brooklets leaping run, And wakening 'neath a kindlier sun The Earth prepares her bridal day. Besistless energies diverge Through Nature's frame in every part, The life-blood coursing from the heart Throbs quivering to the farthest verge, IV. Swells in the maple's bursting leaf. Trills in the robin's morning glee ; The promise of the wealth to be, When Harvest binds the golden sheaf. DA.YDBEAMS AND PURPOSES. 35 "We gaze upon the awakening earth And verdure struggling into life, Impatient of the silent strife, And longing for the fuller birth e Which Summer brings in flower and leaf When Earth assumes her regal dress, Nor statelier Autumn crowns the less With russet leaves and ripened sheaf. VII. What joys are thine, manhood's Spring ! What promise of the days to be. When Youth full-leafed and flowered shall see The Autumn richer trophies bring ! ^ Tin. And standing here upon the shore Of Life, impatient of delay, " Our souls would rise and haste away Its hidden treasures to explore. IX. Come Fancy ! launch upon the sea Of future bliss and boundless joy. Where Love and Hope have no alloy, And life is nought but harmony. c 2 30 nA.TDBEA.MS AND PURPOSES. X. Let Reason close his dotard eves, Let Doubt assume an angel smile, And fairy Paucy lead the while, And revel in her fantasies. - ■ ^^ : The waters sparkle in the light, The sails arc filled with perfumed air, And all in heaven and earth is fair, And fairer grows upon the sight. XII. Delicious music fills the soul And blends with thousand harmonies, While distant murmurs o'er the seas Their deep-toned diapason roll. ■ ^ xin. ' ' • Before us o'er the smiling deep Bright palaces and groves arise, And bathed in sunlight, to the skies Green mountains rear their flowery steep. xrv. A magic loveliness surrounds The fairy landscape near and far. The gem-like glimmerings of a star Bedewing it through all its bounds. DAYDEEAMS AND PUBPOSES. 37 Joy ! joy ! Let every voice ring clear, Joy ! joy ! Let sea and sky resound, And Love and Youth in eddying round Dance giddy as the shout they hear. XTI. — Hush ! I am weary of my lay, It is not real ; my soul would clasp The Phantom, but it shuns my grasp. And fades in cold damp mist away. XVII. My aching head is zoned with pain, I wake from out my flimsy dream ; The strings have snapped ; my oycs are dim. And emptiness and darkness reitrn =3cz:>0crx=* m jpjL:R'r XX. PUEPOSES. Once more, my Harp, attune thy strings To nobler, loftier, holier strains, Calm Hope, and Faith which e'er remains The substance of eternal things. Life is a noble thing and true, A priceless gift from God above, Which may be wrought in deeds of love Or filled with crimes of blackest hue, Or squandered thriftless in pursuit Of pleasure and inferior joy, ^ ', Which mar the spirit, and destroy Each flower which else might grow to fruit. Ours be the noble task to use Our life subservient to its end, And all our powers with vigour bend To action in the path we choose ; UAYDKEAMS AND PUEPOSES. 39 V. To work the work that God has given, To grow in truth from hour to hour, In purity and love and power, The traits that mark the Sons of Heaven ; VI. To battle with each giant wrong Which meets us on our daily road, To bear the weaker brother's load, And aid in right the brave and strong. VII. The Mount of Life before us lies — True life of noble thoughts and deeds ; Peak beyond peak in light recedes, Summit o'er summit seeks the skies. The good and great of other times, [streams, Who climbed those heights and drank those And bask immortal in the beams ; ^ All glorious of unfading climes. IX. Have left their footprints on the road, Eugged and rough, which upwards leads, To teach us by their godlike deeds How we may gain that blest abode. 40 DAYDREAMS AND PUBPOSES. Come, let us go, nor longer stay- Where Pleasure tempts with luring smile ; Strain every nerve to generous toil, In dust and sweat to gain the day. ■■''. ■ . XI. ■ " Like them, above the crowd to rise. Like them, while we have life to live And take of all that life can give The highest and the worthiest prize. xn. What though beside us pale-faced Fear And faltering Doubt our pathway cross. And point to Failure and to Loss, Twin spectral sisters hovering near, We heed not. On our listening soul Fall harmonies of coming times, And stirring calls and bracing chimes O'er rainbow-arched valleys roll. XIV. . And He who travailed in the race. And life's rough tpathway bravely trod, Eesisting even unto blood, To gain for us a higher place, UAYDREA.MS ANU rUKPOSES. 41 XV, And open Life's high portals wide, That we may enter in and view, Through opening vistas ever new The home where Love *ind Truth abide, XVI. Stands over all to cheer us on ; Extends to us the helping hand, To lead us to that glorious laud By paths which He pursued alone. XVII. Come, let us go, nor lingering stay, While life and glory call us on To a loftier than an empire's throne, A prouder than triumphal day. ' xvm. And so those seeds of soul desire Which spring to being here below, Shall spite of storm and tempest grow With hourly growth from high to higher. Till God shall end this yearning strife And we shall know our nobler birth, And Spring's bright promise shall bring forth The Harvest of an endless Life. 42 UNBEB THE UPAS TBEE. Comej I will tell you what I have seen Under the upas tree, "Whose clustered leaves look so fresh and green, Revealing the rich ripe fruit between ; Oh ! false is all to him who hath been Under the upas tree. There is many a sad and woeful sight Under the upas tree ; -^i^*^^ Skeleton leaves which once shone bright, Plowers withered in a night, And fruit smit through with a deadly blight, Under the upas tree. There are broken resolves all lavishly strewn Under the upas tree ; Budded hopes which have never blown, Blighted seedlings in tears once sown. Noble designs, at the first overthrown, Under the upas tree. UNDEK THE Ul'AS TBEE. 43 There are bleeding wounds which can never bebound Under the upas tree ; Dark stains of blood defilo the ground, Loathsome corpses are always found, And dead men's bones are scattered around, Under the upas tree. There are fair young faces grown old with care Under the upas tree; Clouded minds which once promised fair, Broken and bleeding hearts are there, And souls which languish in nerveless despair, Under the upas tree. There are hell-bom spirits that find a home Under the upas tree ; Coming and going athwart the gloom. Mocking the souls that approach the tomb, With mirthful glee o'er their coming doom, Under the upas tree. And yet in our land we let it grow, This baneful upas tree ; It towers o'er the roof-tree of high and low, Swaying its branches to and fro, Scattering its poison o'er all below — The fatal upas tree. 44 tINBEE THE UPAS TREE. We vainly try to thin it out, This dark-shaded upas tree ; With gossamer fence we fence it about, Butjrom Heaven there comes a mighty shout, ^Tk the voice of God the world throughout — Cut Down the Upas Tree ! 45 NIGHT. The day is done, and o'or the stillness brooding The night with folded pinions quietly rests, A dull impenetrable gloom intruding, The earth and sky with sable cloak invests. II. Darkness on Earth below ! the scenes which lightened The labors of our daylight hours are fled, The smiling faces which our pathway brightened, Have left us, in unconscious slumber hid. III. Darkness in Heaven above ! the kindly tapers Which smiled upon our way with softened light. Have faded all, quenched in the steaming vapors, The unbroken gloom of black and ray less night. ,.• IV. ■; Darkness the Soul within ! no form of beauty, ,-- No glimmering hope, no dumb desire is there Wrapped in the night-cloud, even the Star of Duty Gleams faintly through the thick and turbid air. #8 NIGHT. T. Darkness and stillness ! not a murmur waketh The slumberous calm; no distant wave'shushed moan, !N'o rustling leaf, no, not a whisper breaketh The spirit's nightmare dream — alone ! alone ! The soul seems sinking without dread or wonder, Dumb into chaos, from the ended strife — Oh ! for the earthquake dread, the crashing thunder, To break the hideous spell, and waken life. vn. « And life shall wake, and light shall come ; a morning !Follows the night ; the world awakes from sleep : Blessed be G-od, His life and light returning Shall rouse the souls which sloth and darkness keep. Cantire, 1865. m HEAET BEOKEN. Heart broken ! Can it be that that calm face, Pale though it be in marble lovliness ; And that bright smile which parts with winning gra^a The ruby lips, conceal unhappiness ? Why not ? Have you scanned life with sage's eye, And know not that such things may sometimes be, Nay, often are ? How oft its flowers belie The canker-worm that eats within the tree ! The fulness of heart-gladness does not bring That smile ; it does but hidden grief betray ; 'Tis not the smile of summer or of spring, 'Tis the cold sun-gleam of a winter day. At eve the laughing streamlet rambles on In dimpled eddies 'neath the balmy air ; That night the frost comes on, — the life is gone, But firm in ice the dimples still are there. 4iB HEATIT UnOKEX. He was her sun ! Beneath the gladdening ray Of his bright eye her heart had learned to smile On every thing that met her on her way. He went ; her face retains the impression, while The life is gone. Ilcr heart no longer speaks In that bright smile ; it is an aimless thing — The dimples frozen on the rarble cheeks [spring. While the stream stagnates whence they used to And thus she may live on, but day by day Her heart still colder growing, till at last The stream of life itself shall ebb away The struggle end, and all the pain be past. But there's one remedy ! Her heart, indeed, Nor now, nor ever shall by earthly love Be influenced ; yet her dull, dead soul may hoed A purer, holier radiance from above. There is one Sun that can the cold dispel, And cause the streamlet once again to run In living eddies. In His light to dwell And not to love all things beneath the sun, HEART BROKEN. ||^ With holy, pure affection, cannot be. His matchless love may win her love 's warm flow, And gladness to her heart restore, since He Has loved her thus. God grant it may be so ! Priceville, Ontario, 1861. 50 THE HERE AND THE HEEEAFTER. I. It is not always May, Nor does the sun forever cloudless shine ; Dark shadows aye On earth with brighest sungleams intertwine. II. The morning streams From orient mountains with its flood of light ; Yet soon those beams Shall waitiDg stand before the gates of Night. ni. The flowers of Spring Shall fall and wither where they sweetly rose ; The larks' light wing Shall droop at length in silence and repose . rv. -;■" .:':^,/--; -: ■-:-:'-■ All things must die, Or change, or wither, or be lost in gloom ; Beneath the sky There 's but one certain 4estiiiy — the towb. THE HEBE AND THE HEEEAFTEE. And yet not all ! Athwart the clouds soft rays of sunlight stray ; And where they fall They fill the soul with never-ending day. VI. * The flowers which grow Within the Christian's heart nor fade, nor die ; But bright below, Shall brighter bloom around the throne on high. Kingston, Ontario, 1862. '■%■*> -4'-> a«ea D 2 52 TIMES AND SEASONS. Times and seasons ! how they hasten With a swifter flight each day ; And each cue that passes finds us Farther on life's onward way. Through the Winter dark' and dreary How we longed for Spring's soft gales, For the glory of the Summer, And brown Autumn's fruit-clad vales. 'Tis but yesterday, it seemeth, Since that wish my breast possessed- Spring soon came in wonted sweetness, Clothed the landscape, and was past. Summer came in robes of splendor, Dazzled us, then fled away — Showers of blossoms tempest-riven Were the signs of its decay. i TIMES AND SEASONS. 53 Autumn next. How we were willing To prolong its mirth and cheer ; But bleak winds and snow-capp'd mountains Soon proclaimed the Winter near. Now again, o'er field and forest Winter strides impatient on ; And the circuit of the seasons Once again is almost run. Thus do times and seasons hasten "With a swifter flight each day ; And each one that passes finds us Farther on life's onward way And the seasons of our lifetime, Like the seasons of the year, "With accelerated swiftness Thus arrive and disappear. In the daydreams of our childhood How we long for youth's bright page, For the strength and stir of manhood, And the fame of riper age. f'34 TIMES AND SEASONS. Tears like seasons gliding o'er us Swiftly bring youths's lor i;ed-for prime, With the promise and the yearning Looking still to coming time. Manhood's Summer flashes on us Ere we know that youth is done ; Soon the blossoms scattered round us Show that manhood too is gone. And old age astonished finds us Scant of fruit and scant of power ; Months, and weeks, and hours departing, Till our last on earth is o'er. thou Lord of life and nature ! Teach us so to use our time, That when life and time are ended We may enter that blest clime Where no change of rolling seasons Marks duration's endless flow, Where the good, the true, and noble Ever better, nobler grow. Banavie, Scotland, 1857. ff5 TIME'S TEEASUEES. A SONG OF THE NEW TEAE. I. Rearward, ever rearward, are the moments flashing, Ceaseless as the rivers to the ocean run ; Forward, ever forward, is our being rushing, Fauseless as the annual circuits of the sun. II. In the waning twilight, in the dawning morning, Through the silent night and daylights's busy prime, Ever, ever going, never more returning. Ceaseless come and go the priceless gifts of time. III. Though the big hopes slowly down the future coming Seem almost- at rest because so far away. As the distant mountain on the horizon looming O'er the vessel's track for half a summer day ; IV. And, although impatient, with expectant spirit, Wait we for the mystic blessing held in store, 'Tis for one short moment to our hands they bear it. Then into the past they fade for evermore. 56 time's tkeasubeis. T. A moment ! yes, 'tis all, and a life-long endeavor Ripens to fruit or sinks into the tomb ; Seized, the expected blessing makes us glad forever ; Lost, our years are shaded with a cheerless gloom. VI. As long parted friends whose ships meet in mid-ocean See and know each other, waving nopeless hands j For the heedless vessels never cease their motion. Taking each her course to far-divided landd ; VII. So the freighted moments their expected treasure Often from our hands forever bear away — Not for love or hatred, not for pain or pleasure. Not for joy or sorrow, shall they, can they stay. VIII. Gifts of priceless value, threads of tissue golden, God's rich blessings bring they for the use of man. Take them — take them instant, while they may be holden ; Weave them in life's tissue, perfect out life's plan. IX. Thus each winged moment, as it rearward flashes, Eobbing of its treasures quickly e'er 'tis gone, Shall our being onward as it ever rushes Gather lawful spoil from time's rich store-house won. - Melbourne, Quebec, 1864. 57 EILEAN-NA-CEAOIBHE. Written on re-visiting one of the islands at the entrance of Loch Ml. Sweet island spot ! On yonder shore My childhood's lowly dwelling rose ; And I could see thee from the door Upon the water's breast repose. And year by year, in Spring's sweet reign, I saw the daffodils appear. And o'er thy breast, through sun and rain, Their drooping bells of yellow rear. I watched the planetree's leaves expand In summer's prime to brighter green, Its branches spreading o'er the strand Where danced the wavelets pure and sheen. I watched the sea that all around Forever laved thy peaceful form, As slow it moved in calm profound, Or fiercely raged in wintry storm. 58 EILEAN-NA-CEAOIBHE. In Summer's eve, with pause! ess roll, Peaceftil rose the murmuring tide, Slowly, calmly ; and my soul G-azed as the s(^a could fill its void. In wintry days how wild the roar — The water's crash, the sea-fowl's scream- In boyish glee I paced the shore, Or lost myself in aimless dream. What feelings thrilled my childish heart When first I trod thy mystic shore ! That seemed than of the earth a part, A fairy land of ancient lore. How fresh and fair each object seemed ! The shell- strewn beach, the flowerets bright, The sunlight through the leaves that streamed, And barred the sward with changeful light ! The years have gone — I come again Once more to see thy well known shore ; And feelings thrill my heart as then, ^^-^~ But blithe and joyous now no more. '' EILEAJT-NA.-CEAOIBHE. * 59 My childhood's home — I see it not, Nor home, nor house is longer there ; Wide waves the cornfield o'er the spot Where blaaed the hearth with cheerful glare. No more a loving father's face Shall greet the household here below ; And they who brought me to the place — O brothers dear ! where are you now ? Their names are graven on this tree, So rude and deep with boyish art ; But deeper on my heart there be Their memory, and shall ne'er depart. Their lives arise before me, fraught With many a line of joy and pain — thralling power of love and thought That makes the past alive again ! Hush Memory ! 'Tis enough, now rest. Thou art too faithful of thy trust, Thy brightness can their lives invest. But cannot wake their clay-cold dust. 60 EILEAN-NA-CEAOIUUE. Farewell, dear spot ! Where'er I be, In distant lands beyond the main, Still will thy form come back to me With mingled dower of joy and pain. Soft, gentle Sea ! nor fiercely lash This lonely shore, to me so dear ; On other strands in fury dash, But spare this sacred spot. Oh ! spare ! Still may the planetree shade thy shore ! And Spring thy flowery coverii'g bring ! May youthful footsteps tread thee o'er ! And youthful memories round thee cling ! 1856. 61 TO THE SEA. Pencilled in a PocJcet-Booh while looking across the Arabian Seaborn Malabar Sill. Calmly now thy waves are sleeping, Gentle Sea ! Soft the breeze, with scarce a ripple, Comes o'er thee ; Sleep, sleep, I dread thy waking. Faithless Sea ! Deep beneath thy peaceful surface, Cruel Sea ! Many a loved and lost one sleepeth, Down with thee, Mourned and waited for ; what reck'st thou ? Heartless Sea ! Break thy calm, call forth the tempest Murderous Sea! Eouse to fury all thy billows, Pierce and free ; Better thus than smiling falsely, Treacherous Seji ! TO THE SEA. Even now upon thy bosom, Mighty Sea ! Some strong bark to hopeless ruin Near maybe; Q-rappling with thy wolfish surges, Giant Sea! Even now in helpless terror, Reckless Sea! Manhood strong, and gentle woman. Infancy, Sinking in thy cold embraces. Insatiate Sea! Yet I love thee for thy beauty. Beauteous Sea! For thy changeful, changeless beauty Love I thee; For thy wondrous fascination, Wondrous sea ! Nor for all thy harmful power. Awful Sea ! Not for all thy wasteful terror. Dread I thee; Thine a creature's freedom only, Fettered Sea ! TO THE SEA. 63 He who walked the crested billows, Stormy Sea ! All thy beauty, power, and mystery, G-iveth thee ; Ever holds thee as His vassal, Subject Sea. 1868. 6i SEA-8TDE MUSINGS I. I stand upon the shore. While at my feet the murmurino; wavelets play, Chasins: each other o'er Their bright and pebbly way. II. Far on the horizon's verge A stately vessel outward bound I see Upon the heaving surge, Holding her course so free. Slowly sinks the sail ; Farther and farther with her gallant crew, She speeds with fav'ring gale, And now she's lost from view. Yet still her form I see, As last I saw her calm and gently glide • i Upon the heaving sea, And in the distance hide, SEA-SIDE MUSINGS. G5 V. 'Tis thus we sometimes stand Id pensive mood upon the shores of time. While on the sounding strand The waves sad music chime ; VI. And see our hopes depart, — Leaving as from our eyes they move away, Upon the yearning heart The impression of their stay. VII. Yet from beyond the years, Freighted, like ships from far beyond the main. With the fruit of prayers and tears. They may come back again. 1858 G6 ON THE ATLANTIC. The night is dark and dismal, The wind is roaring high ; I hear the voice of the shrieking blast Through the shrouds as it revels by. We sweep through mist and spray, 'Mid the angry billows* war, "While the bottom lies many a mile down, And the land is distant far. One after one the waves' proud heads Bolder and higher they urgo. Till — a start — a pause — then a sudden crash- 'Tis the charge of the highest surge. And the ship as if frightened staggers O'er the yawning gulf below ; Then rushes fierce like the warhorse To the rout of the vanquished foe. ON THE ATLANTIC. G7 While the giant engine labors And pants with throbbing breast, Relentlessly urging her onward Through the elements' wild unrest. I hear the rush of the waters Upon the deck o'er head, Like a masked assassin seeking His victim with stealthy tread. And ever and anon, in the pauses Of the wild and fitful gale, The shriek of the whistle sounds high and clear "With a sad and deathlike wail. 'tis dismal, and dread, and eerie. Thus to lie awake and hark To those ominous sounds so frightful Around our feeble bark ! And yet in this deep and frightfiil sea, Beneath the storm-tossed foam. The playful porpoise happy dwells, And the whale finds himself a home s 2 OTf THE ATLANTIC. They rest secure and never dread Tlie breath of the angry squalls ; For the gracious One provides for them, Who sees when the sparrow falls. And I, shall I dread the storm, Or yield to baseless fear, While my Father rules the land and sea, And He is ever near? Oh, no ! When winds embroil the sea. I'll smile and trusting say, " He who has loosed the tempest " Can bid the tempest stay." On Board the S.S. " America," Lat. 50deg. 18min., N. ; Long. 40deg. 14min., W. October 29th, 1858. SACRED POEMS. V, 71 OtJT OF THE DEPTHS. " Then I said, I am cast out of thy sight ; yet I will look again toward thy holy temple." — Jonah. O God ! in mercy deign a pitying glance Unto a wretched creature, bowing down Low at Thy feet in bitterness of soul And heart with sorrow brimful. Hear, O Grod ! And save me in Thy love from going down . Quick into hopeless ruin ; Thou hast found A ransom for me. For His sake who bore The bitter curse and drank the cup for me, My life deliver. Stay not ! Haste, Oh haste ! My soul stands trembling on the brink of Hell, Ready to slip into the jaws of death. The enemy triumphs with malicious joy Above the prey as if it were his own Already. Clouds and thickest darkness veil That gracious countenance whence used to flow The beams of light and love which made my life A foretaste of the life above, and gave A blessedness the world can never give Nor take away. And now in misery 72 OUT or THE DEPTHS. And utter wretchedness I lie before thee, Burdened with the consciousness of Thy displeasure, Which I a thousandfold have merited For my unfaithfulness to Thee my King. 'Tis darkness all within, and darkness round On every side ; my eyes with looking up And waiting for the expected day-spring fail. It never comes. How long ? O Lord, how long ? But Thou art gracious, merciful, and just In all thy doings ; mine alone the guilt. I've wandered far from Thee, like a lost sheep Deceived by pleasant fields before me seen, And ever seeming fairer to the sight. But as I reached them one by one, I found Them gall and wormwood to my taste. But I, The shadow followed still, though at each step The briars tore my feet, and o'er my head The thunder rolled, and forked lightnings flashed. And now I cannot go ; for on my path The darkness from eternal hills has fallen, Enfolding me as in a living tomb ; And mocking voices through the gloom, cry " Lost ! Lost ! Lost ! "—Lost I am I, O my God ? Where art Thou, gracious One, who savest those Who call upon Thee when nought else can save. OUT OF THE DEPTHS. 78 I cannot see Thee, but I call to Thee. Shall darkness evermore Thy face conceal, And dread despair shut up my hopeless soul In dumb and nerveless death for evermore ? No ! No ! It cannot be ! Can darkness hide From Thee the supplicant ? Can thick clouds shut out His prayer from Thy mercy scat ? Art Thou Not stronger than the Grrave, and Death, and Hell ? Is not Thine arm Omnipotent to snatch From deepest depths of ruin ? Is not Thy love From all eternity ? And is it not To endless ages changeless ? Hast thou not So loved the world as to give up Thy Son — Thine only and beloved Son to die, That whosoever looks to Him in faith, Might never, never perish ? Is He not The living One who died and rose again. And liveth evermore ? Who over Deuth, And Hell, and Satan triumphed, and has now The keys of Death and Hell, and whom He saves, Shall never, never perish r' Is He not The Shepherd of the flock, and follows after The wanderers from the fold ? Oh ! hear me then, Thou gracious Shepherd ! In thy mighty arms, 74 OUT OF TILE DEPTHS. The guilty wandering sheep bear to the fold ; That 'mong the hosts of heaven there may be joy, That I redeemed, thy mercy may proclaim. On earth to men, and evermore in heaven. Sing hallelujahs to Thee Thy Holy Name. Banavie, Scotland, 1855. 75 THE BETTER CHOICE. " For what shall it profit a man, if he shall gain the whole world and lose his own soul ? " — Jesfs. Oh ! 'its a sorry freak for deathless souls To make this world their portion ; to believe An aberration of the moral vision, Disturbing the proportions of the present And of the future ; so to act, as if The things of time were greatest, since they seem so; As if eternal things were little worth, Because foreshortened in the vast abyss ! How poor his portion is, and how unworthy Of his high destiny, who makes this v.'orld His all in all ; who lives but in his gold, Or in the breath of popular applause, Or in the dreams of his ambitious brain I His gold is fled ; the sweet toned voice of praise Is changed into the serpent's hiss ; his dreams Remain but phantoms, and he feels it so. And yet his soul lives on, and lives for ever- Impoverished, and naked, and distressed ; 76 THE BETTEE CUOICE. "While in eternity there is enough To clothe, and feed, and make him rich indeed. Happy is he whose soul, before it leaves Its tenement of flesh, is taught to feel The utter vanity of such frail store As earth affords ; and turns away in time, Satiated, loathing such gross earthly food, And longing for its own pure nourishment — The spiritual manna sent from G-od. G-renville, Quebec, 1863. 77 A LITTLE WHILE. The Time is Short.— I Cor., 7.29. I. Courage, ye fainting saints Who tread the narrow road With weary, bleeding feet, nor sink Beneath life's heavy load ! 'Tis but a little while ; Be patient and endure ; The time is short, the end is near, And your reward is sure. II. If sore oppressed with ills, With trouble, toil, and care — Fightings without, and fears within— Oh do not still despair ! 'Tis but a little while ; Lift up the languid eye ; The battle's almost won, and your Bedemption draweth nigh. 78 A LITTLE WHILE. in. Though now the howling winds Blow fierce, the curtained night Be dark and cheerless, nor the East Betoken warmth or light ; *Tis but a little while ; The storm shall pass away, And calm, and light, and beauty come With never-ending day. IV. Tea, though the frequent fires Of trial's furnace burn With seven-fold fury, and the eye No issue can discern ; 'Tis but a little while ; And then the Lord will come. And call our weary souls to rest For evermore at home. Grenville, Quebec, 1863. 79 A SONG IN THE NIGHT. « Though He slay me, yet will 1 trust in Him."~Job. Tes ! it is best, Though wave on wave of trial o'er us sweep ; And seeking rest, We're tossed aboutupon a restless deep. Oft on the brink Of ruin, 'mid wild seas and wilder skj, We cannot sink ; A Presence breathes around us-Christ is nigh. The crested deep His pathway is ; the stormy winds His wings ; He does not sleep When cloud-robed Night her gloom and terror bring. He trod the wave When winds descended fierce from Hermon's height, Intern; to save His loved ones in that wild and starless night 80 A SONO IN THE NlOnT. Still ITo is nigh ; Though oft wc spc Him not for blinding spray, Or tear-dimmed eye ; We feel Him, and in trust pursue our way. Our hearts are sad. And breaking almost, sometimes, but wo seek No other road ; The spirit fears not, though the flesh is weak. 'Tia best ; we know 'Tis best ; wo would not even wish to move One pain, or woe, Or sorrow from our path. We know 'tis love Hath planned the whole ; And when at last we've gained the heavenly rest, From that blest goal We can look back, and see that all was best. Grenville, Quebec, 18G3. SI THE BELIEVER'S PLEA. " Clirist died for our sins."— I Cor, xr, 2. Enough ! My Lord has died— Has shed His blood for me ; My fears and doubts are laid aside, I seek no other plea. Justice ! I see thee rise- Stern Justice ! here am I ; I calmly view thine awful eyes, Nor dread thy coming nigh. "What would'st thou have of me ? Speak ! It is true, I know, That once a debt I owed to thee, But now no longer owe. Behold ! I'm not alone, The Surety at my side Is'standing ; God is now at one With me ; for^enus died. 82 THE believer's plea. Rememberest thou that day Thy sword was bathed in blood, While for the sins of men He lay Beneath the avenging rod ? Would'st thou again demand A price already paid ? In Christ my Lord, complete I stand, When in thy balance weighed. We meet in friendship now ; No longer at thy feet, A trembling culprit low I bow. The dreaded stroke to meet. For Christ my Lord has died — Has borne the curse for me ; My every doubt is satisfied, I seek no other plea. 1800. 83 THE BEST FRIEND. "There is a friend that sticketh closer than any brother."- Pro. xvm. 18. I have a Friend, a Friend above All other friends most dear to me ; Oh ! let me tell you of His love, His boundless grace and favor free ! I once was friendless, sick and poor, A wretched being steeped in woe ; I 'm happy now for evermore, — It was His hand that blessed me so. In rags I wandered through the land, Without a shelter for my head ; He clothed me, took me by the hand, And to His own bright mansion led. Hungry and thirsty by the way I fainted and lay down to die ; He passed and saw me where I lay. And looked on me with pitying eye ; m TITF P.F.ST FT?TEXT>. Ho took me where the vvaf ers sweet Guahecl from the rock, a living rill ; He fed me with the choicest wheat, The manna which His lips distil. Beat down and wounded in the fight, Bleeding and bruised I lay as dead ; He came to me, and at the sight My cruel foes turned back and fled. He took me from the bloody field, And nursed me with a brother's care ; My wounds and bruises all He healed. And taught me both to do and bear. Condemned, with none to plead my case. Guilty before the Judge I stood ; He saw, and — Oh, amazing grace ! He paid my ransom with His blood ! And now I am no more mine own ; He bought me — paid the price for me ; I am ray Lord's and His alone. Henceforth to all eternity ! THE BEST FIJIEND. 85 —This is my Friend, a Friend above All other friends most dear to me : Oh 1 hear the story of His love, And taste His grace and mercy iree ! Durham, Quebec, 1861 ■;>;*j1.-!.; ;?■?■•■ ; -}l ■ ;:;Sy-,J^i;- t»'*f P#'=-'-W'|-' 86 ; SOWING IN HOPE. •• They that sow in tears shall reap in joy." — ^Psalm 136. 5. Working and waiting still, Scattering the seed from morn till eventide, No harvest blessing comes with joy to fill Our bosom's yearning void. We watch with weary eyes Por early shower or latter rain ; alas ! The barren earth as iron seems, the skies A firmament of brass. Tet must we not give way To weakening doubt, but trust upon the Lord That we shall reap in due time, if we stay Our hope upon his word. In the approaching years Some seedling struggling through the clods of earth, Watered with sighs and prayers in dimming tears, May spring to glorious birth, SOWING IN HOPE. S7 And in our presence grow, To chear us with the Master's favoring smile, Beaping with thankful hearts while stiU below, The first-fruits of our toil. Or if our work should end — The busy feet be still, the lips be mute, Ere. we have reaped, another Q-od will send To gather in the fruit. w Then let us faithful prove, Sowing with lavish hand the precious graiu, Assured that if we sow in faith and love. Our work shall not be vain. Melbourne, Quebec, ISUl. 88 COMFORT IN JESUS. " And lo, I am with you all the days, even unto the end of the age." — Jesus. I. Why should our hearts be sad ? Jesus is near ! Why yield to baseless dread ? Jesus is near ! His is the heart to feel, His is the power to heal, He shall do all things well j Jesus is near I n. Kind fdends are far away ; Jesus is near ! Comforters do not stay ; Jesus is near ! Rough is the chosen road. Heavy the appointed load; 'Tis the choice of our God, Jesus is near ! COMfOllT IN JKsrs. m. Long though the battle be, Jesus is near ! Strong be the enemj, Jesus is near ! ' ■ Many the toils we share, Many the hours of care, His is the Cross we bear j Jesus is near ! :\y - -.- ,.;/■■ IV. Sorrow shall have an end j Jesus is near! • Ours is a gracious Friend ; Jesus is near! Time flies with ceaseless haste. Soon shall our toils be past, ; We shall reach home at last j Jesus is near! y. Tar may our ashes lie — Jesus is near ! Far from the mourner's eye ; Jesus is near ! Safely they sleep and blest, Who lie on Jesus' breast. Low where their ashes rest, Jesus is near ! ^ity of Paris," Indian Ocean, 1865. r^: ak. 90 ALONE WITH GOD. -'■?' Alone with Thee, my God ! when moru is breaking With soften'd radiance from the glowing east ; When shadows vanish and the soul is waking To light and labor from its slumbers past ; Alone with Thee ! from Thy pure word to gather Guidance and courage for the coming day ; To plead the care and blessing of my Father, Ere setting out upon the narrow way. Alone with Thee, my God ! when noon-day swelters With swooning heat, a moment from the strife, To rest beneath the shadowing rock which shelters ^ The gushing fountain of the stream of life ; To drink and feel the living draught restoring My faint and jaded frame with full-tide strength ; To drink, and so receive with heart adoring The assurance of full victory at length. ALONE WITH GOD. 91 Alone with Thee, my God ! when shades are falling, And day's appointed task is almost done; And through the gloom the Master's voice is calling The souls to rest whose race is nobly run ; Alone with Thee ! in that dread hour to gather Strength for the parting journey from Thy word, To seek for grace and pardon from my Father, Ere I lie down to sleep in Christ, my Lord. - ;'■'.'■■ IV. Ever with Thee, my G-od ! in morning ardor, In noon-day heat and weakness, and at eve When flesh and heart fail, and the welcome warder Echoes the blessed home-call to relieve. ' Ever with Thee ! when life's brief toil is over. Nor morn, nor eve shall more divide the day, "With deepening love and wonder to discover The grace that led me through the toilsome way. " City of Paris," Indian Ocean, 1865. ' .•* »»» 8^ »- 92 THE CITY OF EEFUGE. " Escape for thy life."— Gen. 10. 17. The gate is open, the path is clear, Finger posts guide you all the way, That reading and running you need not fear In your trembling haste to be led astray. No hiding place? No, none but that — The City of Eefuge before you there: - ^ The avenger is coming ; if outside the gate He find you, believe me, he will not spare. Your gold and silver ? Cast them away — Your goodly garment ? Strip it off ; Your life is more precious far than they ; Fool ! if you lose it for such poor stuff. Your feet are bleeding ? Better so Than that your heart should bleed instead — Your limbs are stiff and aching ? Go ! Man ! there's no aclie among the dead. TITK CTTY OF T^IFUOK. 93 Look ! on the hill-top stands tho There in the Book of Life, Within the eternal page, Our names are written with the saints Who share our pilgrimage. There is our Kmg and Lord, There shall we see His face. There in His presence shall we dwell With all the blood-bought race. CITIZENS OF HISAVUN. 117 Hie advent now we wait To bring us to our home, And pray with longing, hopeful hearts Oh ! come, Lord Jesus, come ! Geelong, 1870. Bpr-ari 118 LONGING. « Even we ourselves groan within ourselves/'-Bom. 8. 23. He is coming from tlie ages, Surely now He must be near ; Weary Nature ! hush thy wailing, If His footsteps we may hear, Thief-like through the heedless clamor, Noiseless 'mid the strife of tongues, Coming back to claim His ransomed. And redress earth's countless wrongs. Long has been the weary watch-night, Sick our hearts with hope deferred ; my longing soul ! be patient Besting in His pHghted word ; Longest night must have a morning, Longest watch will end at last ; Surely now the day is nearing, Surely night is almost past. LCNGING. 110 Blessed day of eveless brightness, Dawning on the troubled night, "When the glory long expected, Bursts upon our raptured sight ! When from Heaven the Eoyal Bridegroom Comes to claim His ransomed Bride, Ever thence to take her station By her Lord and Saviour's side. Oh ! to see Him crowned in glory. Once by men in mockery crowned. Join the myriad-voiced Hosanna, Eaised by ransomed hosts around! Oh ! to fill the lowliest station In Emmanuel's kingly train ! Solace this for many a lifetime Spent in watching, toil, and pain. Lord how long ? Thy plighted promise Bids us trust the hour is nigh ; " Quickly, lo ! I come," Thou sayest, " Quickly, Lord," our hearts reply ; 'Mid the world's rude strife and clamor, 'Mid the heedless revelry. In the silence of the spirit, "With hushed hearts we wait for The*?. Geelong, 1870, ,.; \^: josjf puMDm omLom,