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Or pour, with Gray, the moving fiow Warm on the heart. " Yet all beneath the unrivalled rose The lowly daisy sweetly blows ; Though large the forest's monarch throws His army shade, Yet green the juicy hawthorn grows Adown the glade." jj^-j^.^.^ BOSTON: PUBLISHED BY J. V. HIMES, 1865 *TK1 O3(o Al7 694^7 Entered according to Act of Congress, In tlie year 1855, by JOSHUA V. IIIMKS, In tlie Clerk's OIBce of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts. stereotyped by IIOBART & ItOHBINS, New England Type and BtiTeotype Fuundery, BOHTON. PREFACE. At the request of friends these poems are submitted to the public eye. To them it will prove aa acccpta- bh> o˚ but I know there is truth in the words of Cowper, that "it is one thing to write what may P ease our friends, and another to write what may please everybody." I am not so vain as to expect to please « everybody • '• no, for I feel sensibly that these pages will not belr the scrutinizing gaze of the critic. Should such a one happen to glance over them, though he may perhaps sm.le at my folly f„, ttus intruding myself into the sacred grove of Poesy, still I would ask him to make every allowance for my youth (these poems having been written at an early age), and for my circumstances ■n hfe ; and also let him remember that the feeblest "" ""'■■' ""'" '^^^'^ >""''' -"ade in a great and good IV PREFACE. C.1US0 have sometimes been crowned with success, and blessed to the good of others. Although I do not oven dare to hope for distinction, jet I have been cheered and encouraged by the thought that perhaps through my instrumentality the heart of some humble believer might be comforted, and some wretched v, anderer, weary of the vanities of earth, be directed to the only source of life and happiness. Should such be the case, the brightest hopes of the authoress will be fulfilled, and she herself bo amply compensated for her care and labor. 5UCCCSS, and distinction, the thought ic heart of , and some if earth, be incss. opes of the bo amply 4 4 CONTENTS. THE I'llOMISES, IN XVI. PARTS, RELIGION AND CONSOLATION, THE BROTHERS, "^ THE SURRENDER OP QUEBEC, THE OLD INDIAN, THE HUSBAND'S LAMENT, .' ^^^ THE CONTRAST, ^^^ '*'* • igR THE MINSTREL'S SONG ' irtq TWILIGHT MUSINGS, .... l?** PASSING AWAY, THE EXILE'S FAREWELL, ^'^ THE ORPHAN, ^^^ ' * * ' Jgo BEHOLD HOW HE LOVED US EARTH NOT THE CHRISTIAN'S HOME, ... THE SERVANT IS NOT ABOVE HIS mIsteR, ." 'l' TO A MOTHER ON THE DEATH OF HER CHILD,' .' ." ' \,, LIVE BY FAITH, AND NOT BY SIGHT, . . . . ' THE MISSIONARY, ' ^^^ '** •••... 198 '-■•.V, uijxxvr, THE STAR OF BETHLEHEM . 1# 202 ▼I CONTKNTS. THE MOTf^tiin'S I.AMKNT, 20^ 'TIS I -HE NOT AFRAID, 207 BEHOLD, HE COMETH ' jOfi THE WANDEUER, 211 THE MKSSENOER-BlKi) 2U THE DYING WARRIOR, 218 THE MOTHER'S ROCK ,218 THE DRUNKARD'S WIFE, 228 THE NEW YEAR, 228 THE CAPTIVE, 030 INCOMPREHENSIBILITY OP GOD, 033 LINES FOR AN ALBUM, 234 ON THE DEATH OF A MOTHER, 235 DEATH, ; 237 EWJAII, 239 HE DOETII ALL THINGS WELL, 241 THE CRUCIFIED OF GALILEE, 243 THE POET'S COMPLAINT, 245 ^^^^y 248 I Tho I Befc I The I And I Thoi ^ Win Thoi Call( Who Who That At t; Then And Even Uncle J • A wo: 204 207 * i 209 f i 211 I 214 I 218 ^" « THE PROMISES. 220 228 " ~ ^^ i PART I. 233 234 : It "^'t^^ ^^ • ^'^'^ ^"'«* exiHtonce with thyself alono • 236 -^'^^'"^ j;;';;';^"/^'*^"^' ^*'««« gr^^at, d^^^^ 237 i ^'^^ ^"(j;^; P"^« i" every thouglit, kneel with a covered 23^ ^ ^"^ scniphira and cherubim with bluHhes breathe their 241 ^"^^^' ' — 01. > w^ '*"?'^^;<^:^!^ ^^"« • w^o wast from everlasting God, ''' Tl"" ";f ^''^^ time space and eternity, thine own abode ; 245 I A hou all-creating One ! who out of Chaos' deepest night I Called suns, and worlds on worlds, and from the bladcest 248 V darkness, light ; I Who utterotli thine awful voice, and all creation quakes ; ^ ^^""^ ^hSd '''' '''''^'''^''^ ^^"1^ Pl'^aets are on planets ^^ ^^'^woHd'-^-^''"* command, and world clashes with Then thou caist speak in softened accents, at thy will And rajng ^rbs and roaring elements are hushed and Even to Thee, mighty God ! I come, while in my breast J S ' n ? ^"^ ^^^ ^^J?^^^^' ^'^^ ^^^k and direful rest. ' " a'^^w^ "^Pf"^^ "*^/f ^ ^ ^nj displeasure, though I dare, A worm of dust, to lift my voice to thee ; in mercy spare,- ir^. / 8 THE PUOMISES. And thougli thou art so terrible and greatly to be I'oared ; Although by angels high and mighty, thou art, God ! revered ; Tliough mortals cannot bear the glory of thy unveiled face ; Though mortal eyes cannot endure to view thy dwelling- place ; Although the human form that dares approach thee must expire. As vv^hen in glory thou didst stand on Sinai's mount of fire, And in a voice of thunder badst the trembling crowd withdraw, And set thorn bounds, quaking with fear and overpowered with awe, Lest they ir some unguarded hour should pierce the fiery cloud That hung around the mountain's brow, thine awful form to shroud, And perish, perish for the rash and the presumptuous act ; Yet I, the vilest of thy works, and with a spirit racked With bitter passions and dark thoughts, call on thy holy name ; Nor vainly call ; though weak, though frail, thy mercy I can claim ; Yes, even I, a thing of clay, can knetl thy throne before, And even I with angels can thy attributes adore, And unconsumed ask blessings at the hand which shows the way For burning orbs, revolving planets, and for suns to stray. Yet not in my own strength, God ! dare I approach to thee ; But in the strength of thy dear don, who bled and died for me, O, not for merits of mine own dare I to plead my cause, For I have sinned, and 'neath my feet have trampled all thy laws ; Yet my Redeemer pleads for me before thy mighty throne. And though thou wilt not grant a boon that 's sought by me alone, ■uaze on thy Son, thy well-beloved ; 'tis in his name I dare To offer my petition, for on the cursed tree he bare i * Free THE PIIOMISES. 9 r to be feared ; u art, O God ! unveiled face ; thy dwelling- ach thee must ai's mount of mbling crowd I overpowered lierce the fiery QC awful form imptnous act ; ijrit racked II on tliy holy ;, thy mercy I hrone before, lore, which shows suns to stray, approach to bled and died i my cause, trampled all ighty throne, i 's sought by 5 name I dare 3 bare My sins thine anger to appease, and to restore a riro J ^"' ^I"r"' ''^ '^^""S^ ^^"^ ^^^ "P *^^ir prayers 1 Then, fur his sake alone Almicrlifu r^^ I Ana whi. H» Mood s^SZltL^ZX^Zoy. . ^nd„yH|h Wet kindles an incense holy, pure and I ^"^ "t^^r"" "^ "'" h.^nd fc. -ery slnnU,... ^'^° ^''trpiir"™"™ """ '"'""' *»•' «-7 thought '^'""n;rJ5"'""^'' *"•-" ^'"'^'' -y -orial sight, and let In tho dark vault of uncreated ni^ht J 1.0 sons of G od together shout for joy T iv!' M ..f""'"'.*''" ^"S^^^y gleaming polo, .e.ioW the new-born earth in beauty roll milf ^ T-f !""'"« «P'"^'«^ ^'x' holds her way Wule^sunlit streams of glory round her nlal^' ivnd fadelel T"' '" ?"*T' «'""'"<=°'« Pressed, iiina fadeless flowers adorn her spotless breast ; 10 THE PROMISES. And golden fruits, like which nor land ncr clime ~ Has e'er produced since that auspicious time. The mvrtle and the noble palm arise, Bearing sweet incense to the azure skies, Witli lofty cedars, pine and shapely box, While 'neath their shadows roam the gentle flocks ; And in the boughs the pluraaged songsters sing In notes celestial, or with outspread wing Fly far aloft and cleave the balmy air, Which floats around pure and untainted there, While peaceful streams of water calmly glide, Sparkling like gems, and bearing with their tide A gentle strain of music soft and low ; But as the streamlets widen in their flow, The strains arise louder and louder still, Keechoed by spreading grove and hill. And brighter yet the waving waters glance, Till mingled with the ocean's broad expanse. Which through the day reflects the sun on high, And stars at eve upon its bosom lie. All nature then in living verdure smiled, Mingling the fair, the beautiful, the wild, In pleasing contrast ; here, a varied scene Of shaggy hills, with lovely vales between ; There, crystal lakes of heaven's delightful blue, Fringed with green shrubs and flowers of every hue. All nature smiled ; but with a nobler grace, And sweeter far, she showed her lovely face In Eden's garden ; there in brightest hues She decked each lofty tree ; and pearly dews Adorned the bosom of the thornless rose And snow-white lilies in their sweet repose ; While beauty used her utmost skill and power To decorate the sacred nuptial bower. THE rROMISES, 11 And through the walks a noble beinrr trou. Made m the image of his glorious God ; ' |.rect_ in form, graceful in every limb, |or sickness ne'er had cast its blight o'er Mm • His brow unruffled by a single care, * or innocence and purity were there : His eye the index of a happy soul, I Jnstamed by sin or sorrow's dark control : lis heart, the seat of holiness and love We as the angels' in their homes above : ^here one unholy thought had never been, or he had never felt the curse of sin ^nd by his side stood one more dear than life Jeloved next to his God, his smiling wife : ' rentle and fair, in every motion grace, \^ith heaven's angelic light upon her face ; imid and loving, and untaught by art, Vnd heaven itself within her sinless heart. With arm in arm the guileless beings rove Llong the river through the spreading grove : Ihey tend the luscious fruits and fragrant flowers And deck with brighter charms the blooming bowers • Communing m a calm and happy frame r singing praises to their Maker's name : V^hile angels often left their starry home. Lwhile in Eden's Paradise to roam ; Lnd even God would from his throne descend. Lo hold commune with m£ n, his sinless friend. 7-?i: ^.uW ^.'''"S' • —-^^^^^ where'er ye trod W ^!w?^ '""'^^ °^ ^^ approving God ; Jest with the presence of a heavenly guest ; est with a stainless heart, a quiet breast ; >iest with a home nrhioh a««oic ^:»i-x . j-_ J , , - •^•--^-uio iiiigiii, uuure, low could ye seek, or even loish for more ? s 12 THE rilOMISES. But lo ! the So. pent speaks ! — the woman hears ! His temp ing words flill softly on her ears : And lui-ed by these, unheeding God's command, She rashly stretches forth her eager hand. U, hve, forbear ! touch not that fatal tree ; ihe penal y is death to thine and thee. ■ Beware ! beware ! earth from its centre shrieks - A voice from unborn millions loudly speaks ; Beware ! beware ! touch not that fatal tree, Iheir happiness or woe depends on thee O, wretched Eve ! the awful deed is done ; A robe of darkness veils the shining sun : Ihe ammate -eation loudly groans^ And senseless things give back responsive moans. 0, Eve ! thy destiny is sealed ; and thou Art ,allen from thy lofty station now : And Adam too, obedient at thy calls, Tempted by thee, eats of the fruit and falls • While nature trembles with convulsive sighs And Innocence from Eden's garden flies. 0, guilty pair ! well may ye shudder now - Well may the crimson flush attaint your brow - plr 1n?^;rn't V^f^^' ^^^ your shame- For lo ! the God of h'eaven calls on your name • And how can ye unto that voice reply ? ' How can ye stand beneath his searching eye ? With drooping head, the trembling pair advance And read their sentence at a single IlLer Then bathed m tears, the flrst in Eden shed, With hearts bursting between suspense and dread They bow their heads beneath the bitter ^curse Pronounced on them, and on the bloomin/r earth ^-nu on a race as yoi unsprung to birth. ~ THE PROMISES.' lut with that curse a soothing promise came, Fhich gently oa mod remorse' undying flame Ind b d^ sweet hope within their bosoms spring ri h beaming eye and healing on its wincr : __^' Iho berpent on the woman's Seed shalllread, ^e woman's Seed shall bruise the Serpent's head " ind as they left the gates of Paradise, r.d Jfl ^ K "f^^^?- ^^^"^^^ ^^"^ ^^^'^'^^ eyes,-- ^d as they bade a long, a last farewell ^ evry balmy grove and leafy dell, Id saw with grief, where'er they turned their eve I world m fading verdure round Ithem lie, ^ ' hd felt the curse upon their foreheads burn — bor dust thou art, and shalt to dust return "- fcTMr ''''^'\^''' *« <^-k despair'; [lien, lo! the promise beamed in splendor there tuT?u ^'^^* "^^"^^ *^^^r pathway shed ^ d bade them raise from earth the dro^opTng head I night with chilling dews came sadly on, With aching limbs and with a fevered brow »ere pain and sorrow dwelt together now,' id then looked back, with sad and mournful rraze scenes attendant on their sinless days ^ ' ter!. hv flf "'' ^'^' f ^"'^ garden' barred bm them by flaming sword and heavenly miard V wept the tears that anguish gives alonf t through those tears the promise radiant hone [when the parents, racked with parents' woe e d their hopes, their fondest hopes, laid Z d aw the monster. Death, in deadi; hue, ' Iveil his face unto their frighted view ' Id saw him use his first relentless dart Ipierce their son's, their gentle Abel's 'heart - 18 they gazed upon that son's cold Qrow. -e ii|)« that gave no tender greeting now 14 V THE PROMISES. li f "^ ^f life-blood, oa that fatal moru, T^i^J 5 brother's hand, and their first-born, And the dark brand, the everlasting stain. Ihat rested on the brow of their own Caii And knew that this, and Abel's life-blood spilt Were the rewards of their own sin and guift 1 Remorse their bosoms filled ; and woe and c^re Had almost overwhelmed the wretched pair, When the bright Promise rose, by God decked, . And pointed them unto the future Seed, An j"'^ ""u^^u^ ^'"^ '^""^^ ^"^'^ the Serpent's head And crush the monster, Death, beneath his tread ' And when at last they closed their weary eyes T was with a hope that bade their spirits rie^ ' Triumphant over every shade of gloom. Triumphant over death and o'er the tomb, ^or, Jo the promise pointed to a day I When their own Seed would break the Serpent's swo J And whispered that that self-same seed w?uM win 1 Chains for that Serpent's offspring Death and ^n And well they knew that wheS DLKwei^^^^^^^^^ That then their bodies, freed from earthly stain ' Would roam the fields of Paradise again • ' PART ri. r Age never dims God's everlasting brow: \ Creation's dawn found hiin the same as no^ • WMr/^^; l^'^^Sh its eternal reign, A r!i i [''i '^'"°'' ^" *^^t ^«d i" vain. m Th 'pS ^l"f I^^'^f P--^ -ee Adan: eaniedi \ moru, 5rst-born, stain, 1 Cain, lood spilt, id guilt, — 3 and care d pair, •d decreed, . id. Serpent's head, h his tread. wearj eyes, rits rise 1, mb. Serpent's sway ■ would win ith and Sin. power was o'erj i'ay no more ; 'ly stain, n.- 'w; now; n. Adair earuedi TUE PROMISES. LIthough his children, mingling with the day, lad, like their father, also passed away,— ^ Lithough the earth had lost its smilin/air nd i ,n s garden bloomed no longertire;e, - Llthouga the waving flood had swept it o'er, Ind deluged It from blooming shore to shore - hough Noah's sons had yielded up their brea^ ^ad slumbered in the icy arms of death^I ' hough sin and wickedness the sway had gained nd o'er the hearts of men ^premely rei|ned -1 Lithough they cast aside the laws of God!! .et that offended God had still a plan n love and mercy for degraded man. Behold a pilgrim stand on Moreh's plains ^nexile iron, his home and native land, Powmg submissive to his God's command And with a faith which truly soared on win^s i. nfettered by the weight of Earthly things ^ le leaned upon the mighty arm of God,^ nd farther on the weary pilgrim trod, Lili Canaan gained, once more the great command N on his ear: "Arise, survey the land .'^"""""^ feeW^V'^^'K^"' ^'^^^^^'- '- -to thee ^ give it all , as far as thou canst see. nd Toll " ^' f '""^ "P«« the shore, r,l i/^''''' ^^" ^^"^ f«r evermore." [ Jw? i^""^^ '' ^'"' ^^ter year had past, - ^ud were those promises fulHlled at last ? > d he obtain the land for which he left bod^oi'v '"''' f ^"^"^^ '-^"^ ^'^^^ bereft? ^od gave him no inheritance thereon • »io, not enough to plat;e hi*« f^-^f 16 16 TII13 PROMISES. And yet he died in faith ; for from aflir He caught the gleaming of a glorious star, VVhose ri.sms would announce the promised Seed in J r '^r ;' "."'^^"^ ^^^^^ b^ ^^^^«t indeed "' And, though he found no habitation there, He saw by faith a city pure and fair, Built by his God ; and well he knew one day Hi feet would hrough that golden city stray, - That, though cold death his body now mi crht chain Th^t'tZ" •' ^"f r "^.' ^"^^^^ ^^-^ band^s in twab, Ihat then immortal and with rapture thrilled Ho should behold God's promises fulfilled He died in faith, with spirit unappalled ; And hein whom his Seed was to be called lieard the same promise to himself addressed : In hy Seed shall the sens of earth be blest. 1 will perform my oath, and to thy hand -L>eliver all this country and this land " And yet he died a stranger, like his sire ; And like him with a faith that dared aspire Above all earthly things, and still believ-e What God had promised he should yet receive His son a wanderer, doomed awhile to roam ' Without a shelter and without a home, As the dark shades of night stole on apace, Made the damp earth his only resting-place, While heaven's cold dews upon his b?ow were shed And stones for pillows placed beneath his head ' The God of Abraham declared to him, " Ihe land whereon thou liest I will eive To thee, and those who after thee shall live. Ihy heed shall spread abroad from east to west And in that Seed shall all the earth be blesi'' afar us star, romised Seed, ist indeed." there, I*, V one day city stray, — w might chain, ' bands in twain, re thrilled, Ifilled. palled ; called, ddressed : be blest, land I." sire ; aspire lieve 3t receive. roam e, apace, -place, ow were shed, L his head, ew dim, ive 1 live. st to west, 3 blest." THE PROMISKS. Vet after many a year had rolled awav And he of bitter grief had been the p/eV - And causing ev,; ,!?„trance To^^^ftl^i^;^^ ''^''^ But TX^T^''}' S^^«' *J^« future saw ' ^father's sJi:Ct^i:::^^^^y ^ S jST"^ "'«' ^'"^ " humble brow '- ■Jill ^hiloh come, whose nVht it i^fn r.' Jet in the Sfng™! It/SffiL, Bowng ,„ bondage at a tyrantfnod ' 17 18 THE PROMISES. Nor did the breeze receive those cries alone ; They mounted up to the Eternal Throne, They reached the Ear that naught could ever close To the complaints of man or to his woes. God saw the yoke of bondage that tlicy wore, lie «aw the burdens that they daily bore, And raised a great deliverer to unbind The fetters round his race so closely twined; To lead them unto Canaan's lovely shore. The Canaan promised them so long before. And many a sign the God of Jacob wrought, And many a plague on Egypt's tyrant brouglit ; The rivers turned to streams of stagnant gore. And loathsome vermin covered all the shore ; Locusts and storms of hail destroyed the land ; Disease and famine stalked forth hand in hand ; Thick darkness reigned, and day became as night, The sun refused to shed his genial light ; Men with their flocks in death lay side by side ; The first-born son in ev'ry dwelling died Throughout the land, from Pharaoh's regal heir Unto the child of poverty and care ; While piercing wails alone the silence broke. And haughty Pharaoh trembled 'neath the stroke. But when the first rude pang of grief was o'er, His stony heart grew harder than before ; With fury armed towards Israel's camp he drew. While a thick cloud concealed it from his view / But through that cloud God cast one searching lookl And Pharaoh's host with fear and horror shook. The raging sea, that made so dry a path For Israel, on Pharaoh spends its wrath ; The trembling waves, that shrunk at God's commandl Bursting their limits, rush on either hand ; ' THE PKOMTSES. 19 ies alone ; hrone, — could ever close woes. tliey wore, ' bore, )ind I twined; shore, before. 3ob wrought, mt brought; ^nant gore, the shore; d the land ; md in hand ; came as nifiht, ght ; ide by side ; died 's regal heir > ce broke, ith the stroke, ef was o'er, jfore ; imp he drew, m. his view ; searching look error shook, path rath ; Grod's commandj hand ; Il.-her they mount, with loud and deafening roar And Piiaraoh's legions sink to rise no morej IV hiie, safely landed on the other coast, Sehold God's children, Israel's favored host. The God who led them forth from Egypt's land ^ith his ^' high arm " and with his mighty hand, orsook them not; but still stood by theii- sido Their souls to cheer, their weary steps to guide ; ^y day a cloudy pillar round them spread? L fiery one at night their footsteps led. ind when at length their lips grew parched and dry. e saw their wants, he heard their mournful cry - le smote the rock ; the gushing waters haste, ' Lnd fountains murmur in the desert waste Lnd when pale hunger came with meagre air, ind their sad souls were sinking to despair, [e bade the sky aside its portals spread, Lnd sinful man partook of angels' bread. And while they roamed, a sad and homeless band. Phroughout a dreary and a desert land, Smais mount the God of glory came, ^nd binai s mount was wrapt in dazzling flame; .oud thunders roared, and tempests gathered round he mountain trembled to its lowest base, Vnd bowed in reverence to its Maker's face. And then, in tones of many waters loud, lis glorious iorm enveloped in a cloud .od gave commandments on the mountain's brow Moses, Israel's mediator now ; ^nd in each great command for holy rites lainly foretold, by shadows and hv Ur^J i ! ; allilll; 20 THE PROMISES. 0^ <^*ong., ^tkju. sed Seed, frbo vot should rise, And gf t'# himself i, perfect sacrmce. And Moses from that time, as God decreed, PfOeJAJwed the coming ol he promised Seed ; " O Igrad ! a Prophet shall a])pear, Raised hy th. J^ord thy God; llim s. 'It thou hear. But whosoever v>yill not hoed his word, Against him shall the Lord of hosts be stirred ~ Shall cast him oflf forever ; in disgrace That soul shall perish from among his race." When Israel saw the lamb to slaughter led, And their own sins laid on its guiltless head, • Each crimson stream their spirits seemed to lead. And point them i\ rward to the future Seed, Whose flowing blood a guilty world would trace, And make atonement for a sin-cursed race, -^d when they saw the brazen serpent raised *'U.Vixt heaven and earth, and on that serpent gazed, \nd felt the bitter sting of death withdraw, Their joyful eyes a striking emblem saw Of that same Seed to whom the sons of men Would look for life, eternal life, again. For long, long years, within that dreary place. The sons of Israel roamed a lonely lace ; Against them many a hostile nation rose ; Where'er they turned they met with deadly foes ; But still their gracious God with them remained, And everywhere a mighty victory gained. And when proud Moab, fearing Israel's host, That lay encamped upon the neighboring coast. Sent royal princes with their costly bribes, To gain from P:ilaam's lips on Israel's tribes A fearful cur^e, 'hm B*iiaam's lips instead Breathed forth ?•, i &inr upon Israel's head. should rise, I decrt'od, cd S(!ud : ftftlt thou hear. h )0 stirred — ;e s race. )) THE PROMISKS. |;nbribed by gifts, and fearless now of man Inspired by God, the prophet thus h gan : ' .' A bnlhant Star shall out of Jacob rise, Whose splendor shall illume the darkened skies- a'T ^^' ^""'^° ^ °»g»^*3^ sceptre spring A..d with It everlasting glory briL ^ ^' I rom Ja^ob lie shall come, whose° ulin.. hand I a 1 snn e thee, Moab, and possess theland, r^nd us domimou and his powerful sway, ' ind his firm throne, shall never pass awly " 21 ;hter led, 3s head, • med to lead. Seed, rould trace, race. it raised serpent gazed, idraw, iw >f men 1. •eary place, ;e: PART III. How strange and wondrous are the ways of God f ■e mighty angels, sound his praise abroad' nd puny mortal, bend, 0, bend the knee, ' Lna own his love, his matchless love, for thee • .^rom sea to sea, from spreading pole to pole ' ,.et one loud song of adoration roll • ^ ' jet every ransomed soul on earth proclaim ^lory and honor to Jehovah's name. Where lofty trees their spreading branches twin«r1 Tid formed a cooling shade, a youth reclLed, '^' 'ith beaming eye and with a tender air, a tchmg his flocks that gambolled round him there iiat gayly roamed the green plains far and wide hen closely pressed unto their shepherd's sicS ^ t to Inten to the rapturous swell 't wcjr r ,'js hari: ' r:y, that sweetly fell lom ^a.p and heart attuned to praise and love concert with the heavenly choirs above. ' quiet^sm^ile played o'er that youthful face, ^ne.c «ariw uistrust had never found a place, '♦• i 22 THE PROMISES. For hope and faith unshaken claimed a part Within his pure, his free, and humble heart ; And happiness, and love and perfect joy. Looked down, and smiled upon the shepherd boy. Ah ! little dreamed he, in his low estate, That he was destined for a loftier fate. The shepherd's life for him had blissful charms ; He found his joy in sweet Contentment's arms ; His harp his sole companion, and his care Only the flock that nestled round him there. But soon the shepherd's gentle hand shall lead Another flock, a nobler flock shall feed. Then strike thy harp, and louder anthems sing ; For, son of Jesse, thou art Israel's king! The shepherd's staff recedes before thy face. The golden sceptre takes the vacant place ; Behold the crown with wondrous splendor rise, And pass before thine almost dazzled eyes ! God's chosen prophet has already shed The anointing oil upon thy youthful head. Rise, son of Jesse ! take the glorious throne Prepared for thee, and for thy seed alone. Through perils dark the youthful shepherd passed, But saw his haughty toes subdued at last ; His throne established, with a promise sure That David's throne should evermore endure ; That though all other kingdoms might decay. Yet David's kingdom ne'er should pass away ; And that the " Seed," promised long years before. Should take the crown and rule for evermore. And oft the Psalmist, with prophetic gaze. Looked forward through the lapse of future da vs. I a part e heart ; joy, ihepherd boy. estate, te. ful charms ; jnt's arms ; I care Q there, shall lead 3d. hems sing ; ing! ly face, place ; mdor rise, I eyes ! 3d tiead. throne lone. shepherd passed last ; ie sure endure ; t decay, ss away ; years before, ermore. ic gaze, future davs. TH^ PROMISES. -And tuned his harp in heavenly notes to sing Of David's heir and Zion's mighty king. He sang his praises, and extolled his name. And then he sang of misery and shame — Of the dark cUp, the fearful cup of woe Of anguish which no human heart might know, Ot deadly foes and a deceitful friend • Of love and mercy that he should extend |Unto the vilest, if with humble air •^hey would but lift the contrite spirit's prayer: tie told of dangers he was doomed to meet '>f scorn and shame, of pierced hands and feet, )t death with all its horrors and its pains ; ind then, m louder tones, and joyful strains, le sang of victory, and redeeming love, md of the seat at God's right hand above. Where the arisen One would sit in power ^glorious Priest, until the awful hour. When he would leave his Father's dazzling throne, ^nd as a King come to receive his own, While all his foes would own him as their Lord, ^nd at his hand receive a just reward. tT ^ !°f¥'J.°"^ *''^^" of prophets and of seers tlad told his coming from unnumbered years And, pointing forward with exultinxr eyes. ' Had longed to see his brilliant star arise, hi him had centred every fond desire, Lnd hallowed lips, touched with celestial fire, fThus sang of Jjim, the great Anointed One : I A virgin shall conceive and bear a son : Bxirl • ^/'^^^^^'^ ^^^^^'9 glorious throne ; With judgment he shall rule, and rule alone • jiiis government shall never, never cease ; ' i^^x- «amu mui uu the mighty Prince of Peace. 28 24 THE PROMISES. On him the spirit of the lord shall rest; 10 him the poor the weak and the oppressed, Sh k'' \' r'^^i'' ""^ ''■« powerful fom Shall be a shelter from the raging storm. stJZr, ^'f'"' '" '"'^ ^'Sht the same, Shall bo h adore lus great and holy name ; His gentle voice shall soothe the aching heart And bid the load of woe and grief depart • His own soft hand shall wipe away each tear, H.S beaming sm.le disperse each gathering fear : nl ! T- ''"i' ^'^Pfo'ioy; the blind shfu To The captive, from his prison-house set free, l With rapturous shouts shall burst his bands in twain The dumb shal sing, and, lo ! the leaf shall hear- That tender voice shall charm the deadened ear" And those who s.t in darkness and in night bhall nail with joy the rising beams of light. And IT ■"'■"^ ^'■"A^'f """""'■'"^ floot shall feed, I And unto »creams of hvmg waters lead : While, circled m his everlasting arms. Their sorrows o'er, and hushed their wild alarms ^Z H'^ 'T^ °^. ^'' -^^^ fl»* ^hall res? And find a shelter in the Saviour's breast. Ihe lowliest sons of earth shall freely share His radiant smile and his protecting ^ref And burdened souls with joy shall flew a place Prepared for them, and rush to his embrace • While tears of penitence shall freely flow And holy love within each bosom gldVr. A voice the lonely wilderness shall cheer And loudly shall proclaim his advent near ? Make_stra,ght his pathB ; prepare, prepare the w»v . - VI, lu : a uoa appears i hail, happy "day ! ' ^ ' V .11 rest ; B oppressed, erful form storm, the same, Y name ; Jhing heart, depart ; each tear, itheriDg fear ; lind shall see ; set free, is bands in twain, ; chain. leaf shall hear ; leadened ear ; in night ' of light. flock shall feed, ead; IS, ' wild alarms, all rest, Teast. y share care ; iew a place mbrace ; flow, cheer, near; 3pare the way I day ! THE PROMISES. When every lowly valley shall arise, And every mountain, towering to the skies, Shall leave its proud and its txalted seat. And fal in awe and reverence at his feet Tnf "A "" ^v^ ^^^^^^m tops begone, Lift un thl^ ^""P"' 'i '^^' auspidous dawn ; Bid Ztl ^^'""\^°^ spread the news abroad ; Bid Judah's sons behold their gracious God. Th^^ {»*«/cessor comes, and on his brow The helmet of salvation glistens now; k.^ % r"""'.' y^ followers, arise ! bhake ofi^ the mists that dim your sleeping eyes • G trth'wXT^^^^^ ^^^" ^^"^ P^^-'^l ^--dV Ye alLn J • ^ V-^" "^"^P *o meet your Lord. I e aliens ! view his ensigns all unfurled. Inviting volunteer, from all the world: Hasten with bold and with undaunted ^oul, And in his .I8LS your Gentile names enroll. A Witness comes, — the faithful and the true • He comes to make a covenant with you ''"'' A;,/Tr^^'?*.^^'' ^^^*^° *o his voice. And at the teachings of his word rejoice A Saviour comes ; 0, ye who thirst and sigh For living waters, come, and freely buy ' ^ A jeat Kedeemer comes ; 0, Zion, sing, And hail wi^h joy thy Saviour and thy Kinc. » captive Daughter ! burst thy heavy band's* Receive a full redemption at his handl A Sufferer comes; he breasts the raging storm With pensive face and with disfigured fbrm; ' There is no beauty in that langutd eye, No musie in that low and mournful sigh ; 'r'^^'Tlf "J"^ 1"""'* ^"'^ displays. To mot there the worWa admiring LL ; O 25 26 THE PROMISES. No charm for earth's proud sons in that sad tone ; And, though he comes to seek and save his own, His own receive him not ; in proud disdain Ihey smile to \kw his sorrows and his pain : Un his devoted head their malice wreak, bpit on his face, and smite his pallid cheek. In him no guilt is found, no sin revealed, But With his stripes a guilty world is healed. A Victim comes, to cruel slaughter led ; The curse of God is resting on his head ; bilent he stands before the judgment-seat, ^0 eye to pity, and no friend to meet ; Oppressed and tortured, while the world despise, iiehold; behold, the guiltless victim dies ' He sufiers with the wicked and the slave, And with the rich he finds a quiet grave. But Death has lost his power; he strives in vain 4^k i". Captive ; lo, he lives again ! Beholds the ransomed ones for whom he died As his reward, and he is satisfied. i |i PART IV. « O, FALLEN man ! lift up thy weeping eyes. Why dost thou longer mourn ? awake, arise : hoY thou art destined for a fate so hi^h, That the Almighty God descends to die, Ihut thou mayst live. 0, raise a joyful j i^or praise and honor to his name belong. The lonely mourner, who had wept and sighed U er Judah's sms, ingratitude and pride, Looked far away, and, through his fallmr, f. He caught a lively glimpse of future yeara ; song ! THr PROMISES. m in that sad tone ; i save his own, id disdain id his pain ; wreak, Hid cheek. 3vealed, 1 is healed. liter led ; I head ; )nt-seat, eet ; world despise, tt dies ! 5 slave, grave. strives in vain igain ! >m he died ig eyes, ke, arise ; bigh, > die, •jful song ! elong. )t and sighed ride, 3 years j And tremb mg with delight, he loudly sung. While far o'er hill and vale the accents runff : * ilie time will come when, Israel's trials o'er. The promise made to him long years before Will surely be fulfilled ; for in those days, A righteous Branch the Lord our God shall raise J rom David's house, to David's throne an heir Whose princely brow the royal crown shall wear. He comes —and 't is a guilty world to bless,— He comes, he comes, -the Lord, our Righteousness ! " 0, glorious title ! other names have charms, But none can ease the sinner's .did alarms. When, trembling 'neath the heavy load of sin And viewing naught save guilt and crime within. Like that sweet name ; the mourning sinner hears Ihe joyful sound, and all his guilty fears Are banished from the dark and wretched soul Where they have held unlimited control, And in their place joy, peace and love, abound; And happiness forever hovers round Those who their own unworthiness confess. And own the Lord their perfect righteousness. The Prophet ceased, his accents died away • Another caught the burden of his lay ; Foretold the coming of the promised Seed, The gentle Shepherd, who should kindly lead His scattered flock, and bring them back once more 10 verdant pastures by the river's shore, To heal their wounds, to bid their griefs' be still, And teed them all on Zion's holy hill. A nflTif.ir-A vohn in nl»i1/ll»^«J>« 1 _-_ ,. ,,, viiii.iiivva D vJiiiij J Cars, Had learned the wisdom of Chaldea'n seers, 28 THE PROMISES. td t, ^/ « ^'."Sht by One, whose word alone Had hurled Be shazzar from his lofty throne ; Arrayed in sackcloth, knelt in fervent prayed, With tearful cheek and supplicating ai?, ^ ' Imploring God to turn a smilinp; face, . And show compassion to a captive race ; To hear their ones, to view their burning tears, And to forgive the sins of other years : • To burst the chains of thraldom that they wore And bring them to their native land once more To have regard for Zion's holy hill ' And to protect his suffering people still. A mighty angel, sent at God's command, 1^0 , .he mourner laid a gentle hand ; r,, Witu tender words he soothed his achina heart And kindly bade his gloomy fears depan: I ?.'J" h" ^'■"^'^ •' ♦'™"' ^"^'^ «'«™al throne I have been sent to make the vision known The time is set and the appointed year . Will bring the Pnnce, the great Messiah here Zion shall ha 1 with joy that blissful day ^ut, when a few more years have rolled ^w..v ' Th Anointed .hall be cut off from the land! The blood of the Messiah shall be spil ; Not for his sins shall he atonement make. But die and suffer for another's sake." Thus one by one. Prophet and Bard had shown SfX'm"' • f^''^^' ^""''y ''■"1 "rone ™ Of the Messiah, and the appointed year When the expected Saviour would appear- And now another, blest with a bright'^beam Of future years, caught up the infpiringTheme. THE PROMISES. &nW Vu-^fu' ^"^SO, the smitten One Ihen told the birth-place of Jehovah's Son The honor of Messiah's birth may claim • God destines not the mighty ones of ewlh To bo the heralds of the Saviour's birth 10 be the burden of the PmnKnf « ° RrjeaTeTl-'el^ltre^-fi Of fir"' "' PoU-'iontstd^alr ""'- Of filthy garments changed for pure arrav Se.p^icCeKnXta^^^'''^^ Daughter of Zion ' lift o i;ft *{: *• For H^' ^'"^'"l '""^ «-rth4likc shall rins or, lo ! He comes, thy meek and lowly Kin™?' ^0 longer h.^dsit^higianl' Wallace. 29 m. lyjiiiiiiiiK ill Hi TUE PJlaVJISES. He sees their King become a sacrifice ; bees Israel's King sold for a paltry price. ile sees a nation wrapped in fear and woe : He sees the tears of bitter anguish flow ; He hears the wails of sorrow and despair, Hears David's house lament its rovai heir On every side sees families apart, Weeping and mourning as with breaking heart : l^or, lo ! those tearful eyes are fixed on Him Whom they have pierced ! and for that stricken One ihey weep a-^d wail as for a first-born son. Before his face t^e bleeding Victim stands : He views the wounds within his tender hands. And asks, m eager accents of surprise, i ;; Whence do those dark and ghastly wounds arise ?"^ Ah, they are those," the pallid Victim cries, f That I received from friends, whose lives to savej Mine own a sacrifice I freely gave." He sees the raging storm its venge'ance shed. And spend its fury on the Saviour's head : He sees the sword of Justice lifted hi^h • He hears one wild, one agonizing crjt Ihe Shepherd falls, closes his dimming eye<» — One bitter pang,.-- the smitten Shepherd dies. His little flock take up the piercing wail ; Their ernes of anguish rend each hill and dale; Iheir Shepherd lost, scattered and sad they roam • No Shepherd's gentle voice invites them home ' He sees the crimson blood in one dark tide ' Flow freely from the Sufferer's mangled side; Swifter and swifter still the life-drops pour, Until a fountam, full and gushing o'erf btands all prepared before the Prophet's eye. „ ^. — ...^. .,,.. „„„.^^^j^jj uupwio may try; Nat i&rene TUK PROMISES. id, plunging 'neath the dark and rolling flood, find free salvation in a Saviour's blood. SI PART V. Idolatry the power suprenJe had gained, Lnd o'er a guilty world in triumph rei^rned; )arkness and superstition, hand in hand, ^alked through the length and breadth of all the land. The mighty Crod of Israel was unknown lave unto Israel's scattered race alone; Vnd even they had trampled on his laws, fad been forgetful of his glorious cause, [ad left their first Beloved, their gracious God [ncurred his wrath, and felt the fearful rod * It' his displeasure, as, with heavy stroke, le yielded them unto a foreign yoke, Lnd suffered them, their city and their lands, fall into a haughty tyrant's hands. the trumpet long had sounded its alarm, ^nd savage War made bare his awful arm, ^ Waved his dread standard " o'er a trembling world Vhile broken throne on broken throne was hurled • ' Lnd kings and princes, answering to the call ushed wildly forth, and hastened on their fall • Intil the victors of the land and sea ' {rought nations down upon the suppliant knee, sue for pardon, and for peace entreat, ^.nd offer homage at the conqueror's feet j hen quiet Peace resumed her reign once more, Vnd War proclaimed his bloody mission o'er. ^ Nature had sunk into a calm repose ; 30rene and fair the twinkling stars" arose, 92 THE PROMISES. And gazed upon a quiet world at rest^ — A wondrous world, by Heaven supremely blest, ^or stars alone looked down upon the si.rbt, ^or angel eyes peered through the depths of night And angel forms, heralds of light and love Enraptured left their shining homes above '— For earthly regions left a heavenly shore, ' l^or earth had charms earth never had before. Each sound was hushed upon Judca's plains : Jiy Jordan's flowing stream the shepherd swains i Guarded their flocks; and midnight, calm and stil n atched er the scene, and reigned on Zion's hill felecp, gentle sleep, came forth with smiling air. lo shed her mild and genial influence there, And weary hearts had found a sweet repose — When, suddenly, a glorious star arose. I he arch of heaven presents one dazzling blaze ! Ihe shepherds start in terror and amaze, With pallid faces and dilated eyes, w^u^n '^^', ^^^'^ ^^^^' ^ "^'^^^y angel flies. With (rod s. own glory on his radiant brow. And lips that bring a joyful message now. While love and mercy fill the angel's eyes • ;; ^ear not, ye trembling ones ! » the angel cries ; l; or glorious tidmgs unto you I bear ; J his day is born to. David's throne an heir • liCt heavenly joy dispel your rising fears. ' In David's city, Christ, the Lord, appears." Down, down the shining pathway of the sky ien thousand times ten thousand angels fly • Jen thousand times ten thousand voices sin.^, While far around the azure arches ring, And heaven and earth reecho the glad strains, J "«v oTTccLijf iiuiii over eiuaeas plains. G G G] )n ( rhe 'hej )f T Lnd i.nd ^ith lo w hey ^ sm fhe^ |\^ith iroui lind ^ hen, he kj ipremcly blest. n the sight, le depths of night ; and love, ics above, — J shore, r had before. udca's plains ; lepherd swains ht, calm and still| ed on Zion's hill. ' th smiling air, nco there, 3et repose — •ose. azzling blaze ! iraazc, » ngel flies, int brow, ge now. I's eyes : le angel cries ; car; an heir ; fears, ppears." ^ of the sky igelsflyj 'ices sing, ring, ad strains, ns. r THB PROMISES. ' Glory to God ! " the thrilling anthems rise • ' Glory to God ! " a sin-curseS world rep7fes- ^Glory to God, who reigns in heaven abote / )n earth to men good will and perfect love ! " With grateful hearts and features beaming bririiL The shepherds gazed upon the brilliant siX- ^^ fhey listened till the last expiring lay ^ ' Vi wondrous melody had died awtv • And when at length the startling scene was o'er #nd sUence there resumed its reign once more ' f ith hasty steps they left their lone retreat ;o worship at their infant Saviour's feet: ' hey ound him m an humble manger laid ^^ smiling babe whose arm creation stayed : he virgin mother, kneeling by his side, ^ith alU mother's love, a mother's pride: .round him now she twined her tender anis ,^nd gently hushed her timid babe's alarr ' hen gazing on the groups that gathered there, [he kissed his cheek, " and breath! d a mother's prayer." One group had come from distant lands afar rected thither by the glorious star, ' hose rising had announced the promised birth 't the Messiah to a sinful earth, nd whose bright beams in dazzling splendor now v Wed around the sleeping infants brow .nd nff! T"" '^""^ ^^^'' P'^^^^'^^ gifts to bring, ;nd offer homage to their infant King ; ^ ■he shepherds, too, in adoration fall, ind own their Lord, the inmate of a stall .' ^hey bring no golden gift, no costly store, Jut God receives the offerings of the poor ; „nd, finea with joy. and elorifviW ftii. aeir Homeward way the happy shVherds trod, 38 84 THE PR05IISBS. And spread the tidings on the wings of morn. In David's citj, Christ, the Lord, is born." From mouth to mouth the blissful tidincH flew And those who waited anxiously to view Israel's redemption, hailed with joyful cries ine day that saw the morning star arise • And filled with love, with rapture and delight, Gave thanks to God, and blessed him for the sight While they rejoieed with angels o'er his birth, ^ ihe sons of darkness with the sons of earth Conspired to slay the meek and holy One : But God himself watched o'er his infant Son,- * ound him a refuge in a foreign land, Vrot ^°\^"^ «J\»ghter reigned on every hand,- Preserved him by his own Almighty arm. And shielded him from every rude alarm : T W *K^^' T^^'"'' "^"^^^ ^^^^ bitter fears. Upon their infants poured their scalding tears, And clasped them to their breasts in wild despair t' f Tfif'i^^^ P^^^^ ^^"^^ ''^'^ them there - Th^TM^" ^ri "'''"^ "^^""'^^ strength, to prove The depth and fervor of a mother's lo °e ^ Alas ! in vain. One shriek of anguish wild, Eaeh mother weeps above her bleeding child The Virgin Mary knew no woe like this ; But filled with love, with joy and thankfulness She pressed her babe unto hi yearning heart ' And felt her sad forebodings all depart ; ' For, safely sheltered from a tyrant's rage in7.?fdf f-!i 'r^'^' -'g*^* --ale; And gladly hailed the long-desired hour When vengeful wrath removed a tyrant's power • Then, guarded by the same Almighty hand ' Returned once more unto her naUve land" TUB PROMISES. [And found a happy home, a quiet place iNew inorccs to tho inmates of that . t ^ Z\T h' "•"'"• ■^""g'" »"' th^ lot' retreat nd offered homage at tho Saviour., Zl ' nRcb, brjgljt angels, hovered round unle'en na waved the.r wing, above tho Wene II heaven resoundod with harmonious lays f rapturous joy and of eternal praise "^ ^indmmgling sweetly with eaoh'^Tad acclaim .oudly arose the youthful Saviour's name ' Xr.t"'""'' ^'r^'^' "''"' haa felt befor JVithm each breast unlocked its hidden sire no Objects of God's special love and eraea • tnd gazing on his face, so pure and m^' riiey owned the wisdom of the wondrousohil^ el^d uZ h"l""? \"Sels Tve/ brfoS"- f!!Tj .u a" *"' '""'y ''ome once more ' or did tho Son of God refuse to share ' Jut LT?; '"i'r "°^ ••'« parents' eare ; *ndret,?;iSrdT:thS\'"^''^"'^"^' •'-<•- ^^"d when [hS oi td ;"::"' = ^ttd night had brought a sw^t r/c^/af L. 86 86 THE PBOMISES. Upon her son a tender mother smiled, And in her arms embraced the holy child. Truly that mother's yearning heart was blest, As thus she clasped him to her loving breast. And found in him, that fondly worshipped one. A dutiful and a devoted son. And yet, methinks, a bitter pang of woe, Such as a mother's heart alone can know Shot through her breast, as, with a tearfill gaze, fehe looked away to future scenes and days. And saw that he, her bosom's dearest pride The gentle son that nestled by her side, ' Was growing up beneath a mother's eyes, A tender Lamb for cruel sacrifice. Day after day she watched his lovely face. As if ^e hoped his inmost thoughts to trace: I)ay after day beheld new beautie hine Upon his brow, so noble and divine ; Bay after day beheld his features wear A calmer smile, and a more heavenly air. A voice had sounded through the desert land. Proclaiming, " Lo ! God^s kingdom is at hand." " J^epent, repent ! " the mighty herald cried, "And be baptized beneath the rolling tide. Not mine the power the sinner to forgive, ~ Not mine the power to bid the sinner live ; But after me shall come a mighty One The great Messiah, God's eternal Son, ' In whom alone my helpless soul shall boast; He Will baptize you with the Holy Ghost " On Jordan's banks, in rustic garb arrayed, Ihe Baptist stood, and calmly he surveyed The groups that gathered round on either hand, THE PROMISES. Amid the crowd a noble form is seen IV .th tranquil brow and with a heavenly mien ; His graceful locks wave lightly round his head As he approaches with a thoughtful tread And on the groups that quickly pass him by He casts a glance, and heaves a mournful sLh. That stranger form attracts the Baptist's eyfs; '.^^ V.'iT u"4^'\'^ ^^^Py^^^ J^aptist cries : "Behold the Lamb of God ! destined to bear The sins of all the world; destined to share Ihe pains and sorrows of a groaning earth. Which owes salvation to a Saviour's birth ! " ihen with a meek and reverential mien, ^ Thou Lamb of God ! 0, wherefore come to me umce I have need to be baptized of thee ? »— ' buffer it now, for such my Father's will, Ihat i each righteous ordinance fulfil » Thf « T"/? f ^y^^"'' ^^'^ ^»d ^o"ing flood The Baptist led the holy Lamb of God, Laid him beneath the gently-yieldine wave And, as he raisedjiim from the wate^ry gra;e A voice was heard; it shook the tremblL skies- "This IS my Son ! " the great Jehovah crfes ; ' While rays ofglory gather from above, . And on his head descends the mystic Dove. Thus Jesus left old Jordan's flowing flood A great High Priest, anointed by his God Washed and baptized beneath the crystal w'ave The old V^''.'^ ^ «""*^ ^«^^d to save. ^'* itte old Mosaic dispensation flies; Behold another dispensation rise ! i^e ancient ordinances and the law -s quicii sueceaaion hastily withdraw, 87 88 THE PROMISES. And to the dispensation yield their place Which owns no law except the law of Grace Regards no people with peculiar care, ' Bids every race alike its favors share ; And nTrr I^^^*?°"««^«« I^as no reward, And no High Priest, save Jesus Christ, the Lord PART VI. Ye who are oft distressed and tossed about % many a fear and many a gloomy doubt, - And oft betrayed and tempted into sin — U turn your eyes upon the Man of woes : ne knows each pang, each bitter trial knows Around his path behold temptations rise" On him his utmost art the tempter tries, But tnes m vam ; and must his follower; yield ? ^Ll b ^"«^'/°d g^asp thy shining shield • Shake off your fears ; for, lo ! your^MasfPr ^r^;] He will protect you from the tern^Lr^^^^^^^^^ aZ^'I ^fT/^^ u^''''*' °^^^" *^e Saviour strayed And fasted long beneath the gloomv shade .^' ' Poui^d forth his.soul in deep^andT^t^^^^^^^^ Until the desert seemed an Eden there ^ ' And he who knelt upon the dark green'sod With shmmg brow bespoke aloud the God Yet soon his frail and human form beffLn Ihen by his side the artful tempter stood : I "If thou art God, why shouldst thou want for food ? ix .uuu arc uou, tue artfui tempter" said. \ THE PKOMISES. 3y 3ir place tw of Grace, care, bare ; 'ewa,rd, Christ, the Lord. ossed about ay doubt, — •ime within, 3 sin, — of woes ; rial knows. s rise ; tries, lowers yield ? ling shield ! "Master smiles ; er's wiles. Saviour strayed, '' shade ; irvent prayer, ere, 3en sod e God. 3egan man. itood : want for food ?| i''ield thee bread, I said. But he rephed, m calm and steadfast tone : Man shal not live by bread, and bread alone But by each word of the Eternal One : ' And by that word lives his Eternal Son." ihcn from the mountain's brow one dazzling blaze "Behold these kingdoms ! all the power is mine • Fall down and worship me-they shall be thine "_ "Get thee oehind me, Satan! " At the word A thousand dark and direful passions stirred And with a curse, mingled with foul despafr ' Se'n r-^U '"T^ ""** '-^ft "^« VictorTher; Then bright-eyed messengers of peace and love Descended from their hapV hom^es abo^e, And angel wings fanned softly round the brow Which felt the pangs of human nature now His ministry began, from place to place, Ihe feaviour passed and warned a simple race • ^ReX ?' f^, *l^'^°."«'"'"' J-'dea'slnd ' Repent, for, lo ! God's kingdom is at haid,- " While rieh and poor, and old and youthful, c^me Listened in awe, and spread abroad his fame ' And some thert were, long racked with pain and woe Adown whose cheeks the tears were wont to flow Whose palsied limbs had long refused to bear The trcmb hng form, who stood rejoicing there. The souls that long had struggled for repose. And sighed for freedom fromth^r heavy wies By evil spirits for long years possessed, ^ ' At Jesus' feet now found a quiet rest : And where they hated and reviled before, ThjJllfu '^', ''"""' """^ ""^'''P' *''«/ adore. Io!,r^ f I'^P""'- ^'"'' ^~'»<'d to roam, iioathed by the world, witbnnt „ f„:„„j J, 40 THE PROMISES. I H<. heard the Saviour's sweet and tender voice ^ It bade his long despairing soul rejoice ; And healed and cleansed, his homeward way he trodl With praise and honor to the Son of God '' The lame man bounded to his feet once more And loudly sang his griefs and sorrows o'er; The blind man, filled with rapture and delirjht ^azed on the scenes that met his dazzled si|hfc; But, loveliest of them all, his eyes now trafe The features of his dear Redeemer's face. And with a look of gratitude and love. With shouts he rends the azure dome above; ThafJrH '"^ dumb take up the glad acclaim Ihat sweetly rises to Immanuel's name. Upon the mountain's brow, by the sea-shore, Ihe baviour taught as man ne'er taught before; He spoke m parables — as long foretold — i.» parables, arid sayings dark of old ; \\ aile crowds that gathered round admiring hung Upon the words that fell from Jesus' tonguf ^ Arid now and then, amid the eager throng, The victims of affliction pressed alone ; Touched but the hem of Jesus' robe,tnd felt l^eir health restored, while at his feet they knelt And sinners, too, with penitential air, ^ Raised unto him their sad and fervent prayer Where'er he goes sighs and entreaties blend Where er he goes he proves the sinner's friend • His gentle voice the weary soul bei^uiles ; ' ^rLT ^'' '•.^' ^' ' *^' ^''^'^''' orphan smile.: The lonely widow one sweet accent hears. Raises her head, and wipes away her tears. The lowliest sons of earth he set^ apart io be his chosen friends ; his tender heart THE PROMISES. 41 Bleeds for the poor, the Sad, and the distressed : And little children lean upon his breast. And, although timid, feel no rude alarms While nestled in the loving Saviour's arms. From Nain's gates, with slow and measured tread. aehold a long, a sad, procession led ; While falling tears in quick succession start, And heavy sighs break fror-^ the troubled heart. Why heaves the sigh ? v, _j tails the burning tear ? liehold, there lies upon the sable bier, Where death, and youth and beauty, strangely blend, The darling hope of many a loving friend. And view that pale, that widowed mother there. With tearful cheek and look of wild despair. Well may she weep ; her earthly joy has fled ; Her only son sleeps with the silent dead. But just ahead, behold, another throog Toward Nain's gates now slowly moves along; And who is he, upon whose beaming brow Pity and love are sweetly blending now ? Who can he be, whose tearful eye? disclose A tender heart that melts at others' woes ? "Weep not," he cries ; and while amazed they stand. Upon the bier he lays his mighty hand ; He lifts the pale and the enshrouded clay • From the dark prison where enclosed it lay. While life again, with quick and healthy start, ^ncircles round that cold and pulseless heart. Ihen with a smile, where blend a thousand charms. He yields the son unto his mother's arms. ihat mother's tongue can breathe no thankful word. But sobs, loud sobs, of thrilling joy are heard, And, turning from a living son's embrace. Her tearful eves rest on h'^p Savi*n»».'« p„^« 42 THE PROMISES. While gratitude the mother's bosom swells, And gratitude each beaming feature tells. Each tear is wiped away, each mourning soul Is quickly loosed from sorrow's dark control, And every voice, in tones that rend the skies. Ihe mighty God of Jacob glorifies. A mother knelt in grief and anguish Wild i>eside the death-bed of an only child. While o'er her cheeks the tears in torrents fell, And painful sighs her aching heart would swell : fehe pressed her lips upon the lovely brow, So cold, so pallid and so death-like nov^ ; ' Withm ,r own the trembling hand she pressed : Once more she clasped her to her heaving breast. Ihe dymg maiden with an effort smiled. The mother's arms embraced a lifeless child. Ihe wretched father seeks the lonely place, The tears of grief are rolling down his face : How dreary all, how dark and cheerless ffrown ! He enters, but he enters not alone ; A stranger comes, and while each mourner weeps,! A !^1 """*,' ^^ '''''^'' " *^^ "maiden only sleeps.'' ' And though the unbelieving throng deride, Ihe parents cling unto the Saviour's side • And while a ray of hope illumeseach soul, iiefore left victims to despair's control, w-!{ l^^^ '^^ r^^ *^ ^^^^^ ^^^'^ daughter lies. With heaving bosoms and with kindliSg evt)s. Ihe smiling Saviour took within his own 4 u J ^-^ liand, and in a gentle tone He bade the maiden rise ; the maiden heard. And rose obedient at the Saviour's word There burst one cry of thrilling rapture wild, Ihe parents wept for joy above their child. THE PROMISES. ^o Where'er he moved a ornwrl hio ^ ™®- /hilo in their ^idstVo^lt'STe^trfht'' Ind when the; fainted for the want of bread' ' ' r'" •"« W" Ijand the multitude he fed And oft at eve, when nature sunk to rest a """;.* ^T"'' disturbed the peacefd breast tZu^" ^"^' '" 1"i«'».„„„ i-u wuu amazement and with 'deep'^urprrs;:' 44 THE PROMISES. And oft in secret pondered o'er each word, And wondered still at what they saw and heard. Upon a mountain's brow, with humble air, A little group knelt down in fervent prayer, Their Master -n their midst, with beaming eVes fastened upon the calm and azure skies J«ut suddenly those azure skies assume Another hue ; for dazzling beams illume Ihe arch of heaven, and rays of glory bright ^ncircle him in floods of living light Two radiant beings, with celestial air And glorious forms, stood by the Saviour there; Both sons of earth, for they were wont to stray fcad and alone, upon the world's high way : But they had joined the angel choirs ahove, And sung the chorus of redeeming love. And both had drained the bitter drops tf.t flow From sorrow's cup ; and one had sadly tried | ^ature s last pang, and crossed death's gloomy tide A cloud of glory tiftged with heaven's olSt ' Too pure and brilliant for the human sighV InHif inTnT^f '' ^'''' ''' ^''^^' ^'^^' spread, 7 J bung m splendor over every head : ill '/^' 5-'^^ ^^''^^'' ^"^J^^ ^ith fear, A ^olce astounding bursts upon the ear : This IS my Son," that voice like thunder cries - Along the mountain's top the echo flies I ' ' This IS my Son, in whom I take delight." i WheTTn '^ ¥^rd -bewildered with affright,- When lo ! a voice their sad misgivings stayed ^ They raised their eyes, the dreadful sight was o'er All things a calm and quiet aspect wo?e eh word, saw and heard. lunible air, nt prayer, beaming eyes skies, urae Hume ory bright It. air aviour there ; 7ont to stray, ^h way ; ra aSove, lova. 'thiy woe, 3ps tl 't flow idly tried th's gloomy tide. I I's own light, n sight, ;ht folds spread, Jad; with fear, ear : I under cries, — i ies, — THE PROMI3B8. A lonely bark was on the raging sea, be tempest roared in fury wild a'.x free, le white waves dashed against tl-e bounding bark ireatening destruction 'neath the waters dafk • 3uder and louder still the tempest blew hercer and fiercer still the billows grew' ligher they rose with loud tumultuous swell ien from their fearful heights in fury fell Ind beat in many a wild and deafening roar ' [gainst the rocky and resounding shore eep terror then filled every trembling soul, Ind er each heart fear held completl control : Ihey saw their bark tossed on the raging wave, Ihat bore them onward to a watery |rafe • bey heard the tempest shriek ; the howling suree eemed unto them to chant their funeral Ze^ nd Death with all his horrors and alarms ^ ' teemed to mvite them to his icy arms shriek arose, of terror and amaze : ' Jpon the sea with rolling eyes they gaze , ror, heedless of the tempest or the storm Ipon the waves there walks an upright form )eep horror then filled every beatin| heart, ' Np horror then froze every vital part : Ahen suddenly above the awful roar Ihey heard a voice they oft had heard before : Fut those sweet tones had never seemed so dear M in that hour of darkness and of fear i^TnP soft accents came to souls dismayed, JBe of good cheer ; 't is I, be not afraid ! " rhe storm might strive to drown that soothing word fut strive in vam, for the disciples heard; "^ ' f nd every fear was quickly lulled to rest, he^oTtonV7, ^"1 ''''^ lightened breast. [ae sea, too, heard : and. nt fhoi,. m„«*«-.- —m, N raging elements were hushed ardltili; ''"'' 45 lit!l 46 THE PROMISES. And oft, perchance, on the rude sea of life. Amid Its woes, its sorrows and its strife, — When anguish rolled in billows wild and dark, When tempests gathered o'er their fragile bark. When scorn and hate met them at every tread, When Persecution raised its standard dread, And told the horrors of the coming storm, i When death approached in its most dreadful form J Perchance they heard the heavenly voice once more, Which rose above the howling tempest's roar : ' Perchance they heard the tones so strong to save, That floated over Galilee's dark wave, «^« nP^^Tu^^^*^ ^"'" "^^^^ *heir spirits stayed: -Be of good cheer ; 't is I, be not afraid." ^ Pr!!!l^-" ^^'.f ^ *r^"*'' ^^*^ ^ *)^^^"t'« power. Proclaimed their doom and named their final hour • When in a dungeon dark and gloomy, bound, ' I Perchance they heard that dear, that cheering sound! When doomed to wander in some dreary isle,^ ' Far from their native land, in lone exile. And even when for slaughter all arrayed : Be of good cheer ; 't is I, be not afraid." PART VII. An^'.^'^^'' Wisdom! leave thy proud retreat, And come and worship at the Saviour's feet ; And thou Philosophy ! with aspect stern. Come, of the meek and lowly Jesus learn ; Cast all thy vam and idle dreams aside, tome humble and divested of thy pride And,_ sitting at his feet with child-like mien, Keceive instruction frnm ih^ \ro„„ ' apare irklini ill see Ith rus m the Ith gra ito eac liie he THE PROMISES. , *o the mountain's top with humble air, Ith his disciples learn of Jesus there • Wn who are blest, and what the great reward Btined for them by their eternal Lord. re mighty ones of earth ! upon whose brow crown of earthly splendor glitters now, 3und whose throne a nation bends in awe. 1 yields submission to a sovereign's law • bid yon poor and sorrowing son of earth, ~ knows no honors, claims no royal birth ~ Ipoverty and sorrow doomed to roam ' iint his companion, and a hut his home ^tattered robe of poverty he wears, brow is furrowed with untimely cares Itred and scorn he meets on every side bm scoffing foes; nor foes alone deride • r those he loved and prized in days of yore whom he told his griefs and sorrows o'er ' Iw turn away, or mark without a sigh ' ■^ pallid features and his tearful eye. p mighty ones ! with air of lofty pride bm that meek sufferer coldly turn aside •' ose tattered garments and that simple air pulsive seem • — then gaze no longer there : It know that he, on whom ye darkly frown, bll one day wear a bright, a glorious crown, mpared with which your royal diadems, arklmg with jewels and with precious gems, III seem a frightful mass, all cankered o'er 1th rust, and deeply stained with human gore m the poor wanderer, whom ye now despise, h grateful heart shall win the conqueror's prize • fto each care shall bid a long adJnn ^ ^ ' wie neaven and glory burst upon his view ; 47 48 TUB PROMISES. Arrayed in shining robes that pilgrim lone Shall take the sceptre, mount the dazzling throne Prepared for him unnumbered years before ; Shall wear the crown for him laid up in store, And with his elder Brother freely share The eternal kingdom of which he is heir. Ye thoughtless ones ! who sport in folly's arms ; Whom pleasure woos with all her glittering charms ; For whom the gorgeous banquet stands prepared; By whom the sweets of luxury are shared ; Who spend your moments in the crowded hall, Where mirth and revelry their votaries call ; Who join the giddy dance with thoughtless air, And find your all of joy and rapture there ; ' JJ^^ yonder lowly home ; a mourner weeps ; With tears and sighs her lonely vigils keeps. She bends the knee, raises the tearful eye A prayer ascends before the throne on high. Ah, laughing ones ! enjoy your mirth to-day; Enjoy your sweets and pleasures while you may, For ye shall weep and wail in dark despair, While she who lifts the penitential prayer, Though doomed a while to pain, to want and woe, bhall wipe away the burning tears that flow. And hail with joy the day that brings release, Ihat ushers in the reign of love and peace ; When they who weep will shout their trials o'er. And never know the pangs of sorrow more. Mercy, that angel bright, with loving eye, And pmions all outspread, will hover nigh, And ever smile with love's own radiant glow Upon the heart that sighs at others' woe, That weeps when others weep, and fr^elv shares Another's burdens and another's cares;"' THE PnOMlSE3. That finds a shelter for earth's homeless sons, And food and raiment for her outcast ones • That heart is blest, nor showers its love in Vain: Ihey who show mercy, mercy shall obtain. Ye who have fled for refuge to your God, Come boldly forth and sound his praise abroad : J^eek not to hide the light so freely given To gild the path which leads to-God and heaven. JJut take your stand with calm and fearless air : rhe world's rude scorn, its bitter tauntings, dare : And let your light with steady splendor shine. K»d by a hand almighty and divine ; That others seeing your good works may bow U ith contrite heart and with an humble brow : A sacrifice well pleasing there may bring And oflfor homage to your God and King.' If ye indeed have known your sins forrriven And seen your guilty names enrolled in ht'aven, Let earthly passions never gain control Within your hearts, to mar the happy soul Where peace should dwell, and streams of love sli. flow, — Love for your God, and love for friend and foe It ye love those, the fond and faithful few, VV ho in return can give a love as true, O, what reward have ye ? The sons of earth, VVho seek the haunts of pleasure and ot mirth Who spurn with scorn the teachings from above, " Ihey have the cherished objects of theij love VV hose griefs and sorrows they would gladly share, And for them e'en the pangs of death would dare. Uien what reward have vn. if A-l^nrla ««« ^i..:— lour love alone? — for sinners do the same. 6 49 50 THE PROMISES. But if ye bless, when enemies revile; If, when they frown, ye grant a gentle smile ; It, when they smite, ye their reproaches bear ; It, when they curse, ye raise for them a prayer ; It, when they blast your character and name, Xe gently strive to spare their injured fame ; It ye, for evil, return deeds of love, O, blest are ye ! — for He who rules above, — Who bids for all the sun in heaven to smile. And sends his rain upon the just and vile, — With tender air bends from his lofty throne, lioves, and protects, and claims you for his own. And when the poor stretch forth a needy hand, Kef use not what the laws of God demand ; Kemember ye the promise and reward, — giving the poor, ye lend unto the Lord; He Will repay — to Him your alms are known — le shall receive with usury your own. And when ye pray, seek some secluded place, Where ye can view your heavenly Father's face, ± ar from the haunts of men, then kneel in prayer. Pour forth your wants and all your sorrows there, ^ut come m faith, with humble heart believe Ihat what ye ask ye shall indeed receive. If to your side a trusting child draws near. lo your paternal bosom fair and dear, And unio you, in soft and winning tone. With child-like air, his simple wants makes known, - Will y 3 refuse to grant his small request ? a1 rather clasp him to a parent's breast, And smile for j^oy to view the transport wild, The wished-for boon bestow upon your child, {^.ye then give good gifts unto your sons. Will tir\A M^A.^^ j._ 1 1-1 *^ . ' ■ ' — « ..iv-ji iviuac iw uoar nis fluuioie ones ? THE PROMISES. If ye as parents your own children bless. WjU not your Father all your wants redress 7 Your every cry does not your Father hear ? O, ye of little faith, why should ye fear ? Ye know not where to find your daily bread, But shall the future fill your souls with dread ? Behold the fowls, that cleave the balmy air, They have no anxious thought, they have no care; For their own wants they never can provide. And yet, behold, their wants are all supplied, fehall ye then sufi"er ? — are ye less than thev ? Ust every fear and every doubt away, And bow before your heavenly Father's throne ; Behold the flowers, arrayed in gorgeous hues, All gayly sparkling in the morning dews ! iiehold what care some tender hand bestows i;Po» *^e hly and the blushing ro^e ! What king in all his glory can compare With the rich robes those lovely flow'rets wear ? Then shall ye want, if God so clothe the grass That bends beneath the breezes as they pass ? U, ye by fears of future need dismayed ' Are ye not better than the flowers that fade ? Then why with doubts for future days take heed?- Your lather knows whate'er his children need But seek ye first, with true and humble heart, VVi hm God's kingdom to obtain a part ; beek ye the ways of holiness and love. And set your fondest hopes on things above : Around the throne let your afiections twine, ;^laced on an object worthy and divine ; ^etore the throne all of your treasures brinff — He^U guard them well, your gracious God and King ; nuiiu ahall &l iljr freely flow AH of the blessings that ye need below 52 TUB PROMISES. ^ Ye who before the world with fearless mien Confess your faith in the poor Nazarene ; Ye who have borne the cross and borne the shame, Nor blushed to own a dying Saviour's name ; When every race, of every tongue and land, Before the judgment-seat shall take their stand ; When conquerors cast their blood-stained swords aside, And leave behind their laurels and their pride ; When monarchs shall obey the dretdful call. And stand arraigned before the Lord of all ; When on the great white throne, with brow severe, The Judge in power and glory shall appear; In that dread hour that tells earth's final fate. When shrieks for mercy rise, but rise too late, Ye shall behold with joy the shining place Where your Redeemer shows his smiling face ; He shall come forth, and, still in love the same. Before the Father's throne confess your name • ' While heaven, and earth, and men, and angels' hear And God, the Father, bends a listening ear. ' Ye who for your divine Redeemer's sake The strongest ties of nature freely break ; Ye who can view with calm and tearless eye Your brightest hopes like fleeting shadows fly ; Ye who have freely left each costly store Ye cherished once, but cherish now no more ; Ye who have borne the world's rude scorn and hate And bowed submissive to your lonely fate ; * Ye who have felt a pang riore cruel still, ' Friendship forgotten, love grown faint and chill ; Ye who, while scalding tears in torrents fell. To friends estranged have bid the last farewell. And gladly suffered all things for your Lord, -1 HiccTviai, ci/€ Wiii 06 your grout reward. THE riioMisjis. 53 Then shall ye mourn? lift up your weeping eyes ! Let faith already grasp the blessed prize, Which far outweighs all ye are doomed to bear In this dark world of sorrow and of care. Ye who have wandered far from virtue's path, Justly incurred God's vengeance and his wrath; Ye who have roa^^ed without a friend to share I he heavy load of sorrow and despair ; \vu^ l^^^ve wept o'er scenes too bright to last, A ^^" 1,'^^'^"^ ""^^^3^ wo'^ld recall the past. And sadly whisper to your bursting heart. And brand the words upon your burning brow, Those days were pure ; alas ! how alter-1 now : " Ye who have mourned through many a dreary night, Wh le Conscience once more sternly claimed her right, And to your soul the horrid phantoms brou^rht Ut sinful deeds until then half forgr . And while her thunder tones burst : . the ear, I hat fain would not, and yet must surely hear — Hope fled your breast, and from your pillow sleep. And left you but to bow your head and weep : Ye who have felt all this, by anguish driven, Kenounccd all hopes on eart/i, all hopes of heaven ; - Who long have met, where'er your footsteps trod. A frowning world and an ofiended God; Go ye unto the gentle Nazarene; Go ye and learn what those sweet words may mean : i will have mercy ; I will freely spare The wretched soul that lifts the contrite prayer • I came to call the outcast and the vile; I came to bid the mourning sinner smile ; 1 came to seek, I came to save the InsL O, ye by bitter griefs and sorrow tossed, — 54 THE PROMISES. Ye heavy laden, with your guilty woes ! ' * Come unto me, and find a sweet repose. Take ye my easy yoke, my burden bear ; With me a crown of glory ye shall wear. O, ye who thirst ! unto the fountain fly, * Receive my words, and ye shall never die ; Flee from the world and all its rude r -arms, And seek for refuge in my outstretched arms. O, wretched sinner ! lean upon my breast, And ye shall find an everlasting rest." Such were the doctrines of the Nazarene*; How changed from what the world had heard or seen ! How changed from Sinai's laws, the laws of grace ! Those shook the mountain to its lowest base ; These pierce the sinner's heart ; with tears and sighs, He lifts to heaven his sad, imploring eyes " For Jesus' sake, Almighty God, forgive ! " • The prayer is heard ; live, ransomed sinner, live ! PART VIII. • How fierce the passions of the human soul, When once they burst the limits of control ! Alike the stream or like the bubbling rills, That take their rise among the snow-capped hills, At first how gentle and how calm their flow! But as they near the frowning depths below, A raging torrent in its fury pours. And fills the air with loud and stunning roars. Nothing impedes its course; nor trae nor rock Withstands the fury of the sudden shook ; \y-nward it oweepH, nor even glances back, '^ut leaves destruction in its ruthless track. THE PROMISES. 55 Alas ! that thus within the human breast Such furious passions should find place to : est; That e'er alFection, strong and bright to-day, Should wither ere to-morrow wears away ; And hearts that hailed a friendship just begun, Should fiercely hate before the set of sun ! Strange that the lips that bless, and loudly raise A song of love, of honor, and of praise, Should curse so soon, and should employ each breath To call down woe, and infamy, and death, 'On Him to whom they once wo ;.d bend the knee, And gladly gather round to hear and see ; To whom they once their ofierings would brintr, And cry aloud, " Hosanna to our Kinc^! " °' A little group, with slow and thoughtful tread, Approached the dwelling of the silent dead — That narrow house, the dark and dreary tomb. Where Death asserts his reign of woe and gloom. But, lo ! a Conqueror comes in that sad train, And he shall burst death's icy bands in twain ! The grave to him shall yield its ghastly prey, ' And even Death shall own the Conqueror's sway ! While that sad throng seek out the lowly spot, • By yearning love not for an hour forgot, Some mourn a brother, some a cherished friend. And all alike their tears of sorrow blend. Jesus approaches where the loved one sleeps ; He bows his head, — the gentle Saviour weeps,— While in his sighs and in his sacred tears. Behold the man, the weeping man, appears ! But when in thunder tones the Saviour cries, Above that tomb, and bids the captive rise. iSehoId the God, descended from above ! Behold the God, in all his power and love ! 56 THE PR03irSES. 0, King of terrors ! now hold well thine own; ^0 human force breathes in that thrillin(/ tone He comes to seize thy prey ; 0, Death ! beware ! ror 't IS no common ioQ that meets thee there ! Compared with his, thy boasted strength is vain. JNot thine the power the captive to retain In the dark prison, where entombed he lies, When Jesus bids the sleeping dust arise. The Saviour speaks, and death's dominion shakes; The Saviour speaks, the silent one awakes;- He leaves the tomb, obedient at his nod, And in the Nazarene beholds his God. Now, tears of joy bedew each beaming face, And sisters dear a brother's form embrace ; What heed they now of sorrow or of fear?' A brother's voice breaks on the raptured ear. What heed they l ;w of woe or dark despair? Their eyes behold a living brother there. A brother lives, a brother smiles once more, And all a sister's agony is o'er. Unto the rich man's feast a sinner came ; With blushes of confusion and of shame, She sought that place with penitential air, For she had hoard that Jesus would be there. She heeded not the many eager eyes That rested on her face in deep surprise ; She heeded not the splendor of the place'; She only saw her dear Redeemer's face. And with a tearful eye and timid mien, She threw herself before the Nazarene. Her trembling lips upon his feet she pressed, Alia while the sobs broke from her heaving breast A« !'^'!:^''?u*;^^'^ ^°P^ ^""^Py ^^^ l^^g since fled, iiii vii iiii^ tiiurc oi sweet peifuiue ghe shed. THE PKOMISES. 57 A frown passed o'er the Pharisee's proud face, That thus a sinner dared to take her place ; Yet wondered he the more that Christ should smile Upon a being so forlorn and vile The Pharisee might frown, and, in his pride. 1 rom the poor penitent might turn aside : But Jesus never passed the sinner bv With careless look or with unpityin^ eye. And what cared she that mourner ail forlorn, Ihat others viewed her tears and grief with scorn And spurned the very ground on ^hich she trod, ' When the sweet accents of the Son of God Assuaged the sorrows of her troubled heart. And gently bade her gloomy fears depart ? She caught her Saviour's eye -its radiant glow Dispersed the clouds of darkness and of woe: She. saw him smile -- her sorrows were forgot ; She heard him speak- 't was all the mourter sought : ' Ihy sins are many, yet I will forgive ; ^ Thou hast loved much, then go thy way and live." All other passions now w^re lulled to rest • Love, and love only, filled the sinner's breast: Love, and love only, breathed in every tone - Love perfect love, claimed every thought alone And from that hour, through many a trying scene That ransomed soul followed the Nazarenef ' And still refused to leave her Sa four's side, Although despised, condemned, and crucified. From Olivet's fair and embowered retreats, The Saviour nioves through Salem's crowded streets, W ith humble air, and clad in lowly guise. VVhile on each hand triumphant shouts arise: ATid loyal hearts their adoration brinff And raise the orv. " Kngp""" ♦« i^'^- - • .. l)aughter of Zion! hail a Saviour nearT^ ' Lift up thy head, behold thy King appear ! 58 THE PROMISES. O, wretched city ! rouse thee ere too late, Before, ingratitude shall seal thy fate ; Floe from the wrath to come, before the storm Shall spend its fury On thy haughty form. The thunderbolt from heaven will soon be sped, And crushing fall upon thy guilty head. O .'then beware ! — while Mercy pleads for thee, To Mercy's outstretched arms for safety flee. Mercy still pleads, but cold and colder grown, Thou heed'st no longer Mercy's pleading tone. And though a Saviour stands within thy walls. And still with love and with compassion calls, And points thee out the sure and only path That saves from vengeance and eternal wrath ; Still thou art heedless and too proud to yield ; Ill-fated city ! now thy doom is sealed. The Saviour of mankind weeps o'er thy fate ; And thou shalt weep, but weep when 't is too late ! Thou scornest now the chosen of the Lord, And thou shalt soon receive a just reward ! Thou scornest now ihe messenger of love ; 'T is written all in deep, dark lines above ! Thou hast rejected the anointed One, Thou hast rejected God's eternal Son, Thou hast despised, mocked, and derided him; The cup of wrath is filling to the brim ; And thou shalt drain the very dregs that flow From that dread cup of misery and woe ! The Saviour weeps ; and when thy children's blood 4r?^^ ^ ®^ ^^ ^*^^^*® ^^ ^^^ ^^^'^'' crimson flood ; When death in every form and every 1 le, Unveils his ghastly face unto thy view , When dread destruction bares its fear il arm A^"= AJkUU iu oOuuds the aote of horror and alarm ; THB PROMISES. 59 When want and woo, and direful famine reien • When shneka for hopeless mercy rise in vai^' When fire and sword shall lay thy pride fuH low • Then thou shalt weep; the tears fnCen^ fli?' "" When thou Shalt see thy glory and thv »n Transferred to Gentile h^LfdsfhrLste thy fall • fc r f ''" "'" ""^^ '"""'ifi^d retreat ' fhen fu^ tu- ^'■"^^"^ *>y Gentile feet, Then thou shalt raise thy streaming eves abovp J"P'°'-V''« God of merV and of fovTr ' Ihe God of mercy will refuse thy prayer And hope shall yield her station to despllr. Where is the sceptre ? let him take his own • nt r„V,V^' r^'V "P™ *•''" "<*>« brow ' The royal diadem should glisten now. A .UDg appears ; but not the proud and great • He comes not now an earthly crown to gain! ' He comes not now a Conqueror to reignl ind W ll-"'"!! ' *'"''' ^' f'^y' hifv'ow, And Zion s King becomes a victim now. A King appears ; his subjects homase brinir And shout for joy, " Hosanna to our Khig ■ "^* But soon the cry shall burst from every sfde "Away with him, let him be crucified! "' And while their curses fall upon his head By his own people shall his blood be S A Victim comes, for man's sins to atone Therr^'ri «iZ^° fHalUak: r^hrone. Andwhotheor;;;^f™;j;,rof:etV 60 THE PU03IISES. The house of David long had stood unmoved; It could not fall till rolling years had proved God's promise sure, his declaration done " A virgin shall conceive and bear a Son." But when that Son, that wondrous Son, was born, And made the object of a nation's scorn ; When scoffing tones cried out, in proud disdain, " We will not have this man o'er us to rei«'n ;" Then David's kingdom fell to rise no moref And David's house beheld its glory o'er. The royal crown no earthly brow might wear, And David's throne might find no earthly heir ; Nor king nor prince shall press that throne again, Till He shall come whose right it is to reign. ^ ! The day had passed. The sun's last golden ray, Famter and fainter grown, had died away ; And while the shades of twilight softly fell O'er lofty mountain and o'er lowly dell, The paschal lamb was slain, the feast prepared, J3y the disciples and their Master shared. But why, ! why, upon each thoughtful brow, Rests that dark shade of grief and sadness now ? Beside the board a gracious Lord appears His gentle voice still falls upon their ears; Within their midst he still retains his place ; Then why should sorrow cloud each manly face ? Alas ! e'en now the storm begins to shed Its fury on that cherished Saviour's head ; The price is set, the paltry sum is paid. The Son of man is even now betrayed. He speaks ; alas ! that sweet and tender tone In this drear hour has sad and sadder grown ; And tears half dim the Saviour's beaming eye. And from his bosom bursts the rising sigh ; " TUB PBOMtara. 61 As he survoys, with a paternal air, Ihe httle group assembled rou..d him there Of woe'"Jr'"''\"''"'' ^'"''' ""•! ^''ni a d^t That one ^f 1"^""'' *" "'"''> ^'''"^^"^ ''O"'- Ihat one of their own number— one of those Who long have shared his wanderin™ and his woe. Shall prove a traitor for a base reward ""'"'"'- A traitor to h s Slaster and his Lord ' VVhie every cheek grows pale and paler still And bitter pangs each troubled bosom fi I,""' "Lord IS It I?" the trembling echo flies From l,p t„ lip; a„d every he!rt replies And^fiff^'"'-.."''"''^:^ ''y ^°™"'» Sng sigh And a led with anxious fears, "Lord is it I?" Ren "IZ!^" '™^^' "="' ""dacious a r, To eall the Saviour Lord, _ 't isMaster now • But, as he speaks, with bold, unblushing brow', vvitnin the traitor's vile and sinful breast • ?o haTtr' 'rv^^'«"- ""'' bids h m • lo haste the work of infamy and woe. 0, wretehed traitor ! o'er thy guilty son! ^ho'u h':r/r """^"'^ >""* W control: Ihou hast delivered all into his piwer Thlr\*° "I'' "''" '^"'^' that fatal'hour ' Thou hast exehanged thy masters ; even now The infernal seal IS pressed upon thy browT lliose days of love and harmony are o'er • fndtr'Ku'"''"^"'^'^"""*'''';" ' And thou Shalt never join that group aiain Amidst the ehosen few thou had^st thyXe Thou once couldst view » ««»: •- Lr.-\ 02 THE PROMISES. But on thy fatal mission thou art gone ; Darknesb is round thee ; speed, 0, npeed thee on ! IJarkness is round thee ; 0, how dark within ! How black the clouds of misery and sin ! The Saviour's doom is seahd, nor his alone, i^or, wretched traitor, thou hast sealed thine own ! Silence had reigned supreme throughout the room. And er each brow the shade of grief and gloom btill rested sadly, while Uoavv weight, That strangely spoke ot some impending fate, Tressed upon every heart, and left its trace, In mournful lines, upon each thoughtful face. And he, whose loving arms had oft entwined In tond embrace th^Saviour of mankind — He who e'en now ha 1 found a place of rest Upon his Master's true, devoted breast, — Ihat told his love, his mingled hopes and fears And as he fixed them, with an anxious air, Un that dear face, and gazed intently there, U ! who the pangs of bitter grief might tell That rent the heart which long had loved so well, When Christ foretold in sad and mournful strain That thus on earth they ne'er should meet again: That t was the last time he should take his teat Around the board, within that lone retreat : Ihen raised his eyes with tranquil air above, And blessed the bread, the emblem of his love ? " This is my body, broken for your sakes," Ihe feaviour cries, and every one partakes. "This IS my blood ; " the sparkling wine is poured, The cup is passed around the silent board. This is my blood; for you 't is freely spilt, --.- --««i.-_ tx juos, acuiiciiicnc lOr your guilt. THK PBOMISJES. ' SL' !' f^V!"'""/ "'■ "'»« praised of old • P„j «?",7 ™an ; Ills ransom shall bo Daid • S°^ ."h? 1 bo roconcilod; his pardWvoice Shall bid tho sinner's fearful soul rck>lo Pll ir *" 'r' "'-■'=' «»»d« of time are o'er I 11 meet you all around the board onee more"' To 'L^.r' v!^7s"'' ""? y° ,""' '"' '" '"in A li. 1 ^^M ^"T'"' » well-known voice a«ain • A l.h.o whilo and ye , ill see no more ^ ' The form wh.ch now ye fervently adore; A little while, and where we used to meet leTL"'nrf"'KTf '''" ^'-^ " ~'eat; Nor l!f 'T'"'''^.' "«''*«' ■'^ "fraid, I seek liT fr-P'-S «P.'"'» >>« dismayed ; 1 seek my Father's mansions to prepare Th?^^^ °' r"' "" '"•'«'" ""-l glorious, there • That where I am my followers may be ' Mh/ i ^t""^' y"" S''™" and your God Show ftrth your love, and tread the paths l'v« f ,„^ A„7 r • "? Pf^P'^' '^''«'' command fulfil ™ *""^' Th.„?"^ n 1° ^°" ''^"^""ly FatherrwiU • i''™P/h'ill dwell supremely in my love * And God the Father, from h^ thr"ife aboie Will hear my prayer, and many a token sind Of sweet remembrance from JJlZZT"!:... V --- "iixs. iiiviiu. M 68 64 Tnfi PROMISES. Ye long with me have shared my wants and woes, And ye with me shall share a sweet repose ; But while on earth your weary footsteps roam, As strangers, without friends, without a home — While ye are wanderers in a desert land, Let love unite each trusting heart and hand ; Let peace and unity forever reign Within your midst, nor burst those bands in twain; Those sacred bands that make you all as one With God the Fathei-, and with God the Son. As I have loved, and soon shall freely give My life for you, that ye through me may live, So should ye love each other, and resign All that ye prized before for me and mine. So should ye love, and for each other dare A cruel death, and with each other bear The heavy yoke of grief, of care, and pain, Till ye a world of endless glory gain, And with your Master find^a peaceful rest, And in his kingdom be forever blest. " 0, then, ye faithful ones, beloved band ! Remember well your Saviour's last command, That all the world may view the love divine That proves this group of dear disciples mine. While on your lonely pilgrimage below, Your path will be through scenes of grief and woe; Yet be not troubled, although foes arise On every hand, and all the world despise ; For well ye know your Master and your Lord Was hated first ; and think of your reward. If ye were of the world, the world would smile Upon its own ; but now it shall revile. Yet fear ye not, though by it often cursed ; For know your Master wa« derided firHt • THE PROMISKS. But look beyond this dark and dreary mctht And view a morn of pure, unchanging light; And know that when the shadows flee alav And usher in that long-expected day, ^at ye shall stand upon a heavenly shore. Where sin and death can trouble you no more : , Where burning tears of sorrow ne'er shaU faU And happiness and glory be for all. "The hour will come, ay, even now is near, When ye, who thus surround your Master here. Will turn away, and leave him all alone. Forget his safety, while ye seek your own. Ihen will your love be proved, your faith be triad. When ye desert a dying Saviour's side. * I have foretold of these heart-rending woes. I have foretold of trials and of foes That, when the storm shall burst before your eves When billows roar, and tempests dark aHse, ^ ' ye may find peace in me — a quiet rest 10 soothe the passions of your troubled breast. Will yield you naught save woes and rude alarms Xour brightest earthly prospects will be crushed : * ^ut let each sigh of sad regret be hushed. I hough fiery darts against you may be hurled. ue ot good cheer, I have o'ersome the world." ^^ • The great High Priest, with calm and heavenly air. Then raised hia eyes m deep and fervent prayer, l^!lTl^'\ ^" '^!'' ^""'^ »^«"r «f shame, ^' Ihat God the Son might glorify his name. ^or for himself alone arose that prayer, ^ut for the group of dear disciples there. xnac tiioy might bo united stilfin love, And filled with joy and blessings from above j 66 THE PROMISES. That, though the world might hate them and deride. Ihey still might cling unto each other's side ; And, knit together in one holy band, Might journey through a wild and dreary land : lill, every trial o'er, they all might meet. And round the throne of God each other greet, Where they would find a great, a rich reward, And share the glory of their risen Lord. Not for that group alone did Jesus plead, Nor for that group alone did intercede ; No, mourning Christian, tossed on life's dark sea! While yet on earth, thy Saviour prayed for thee ! ^efore the cross was reared on Calvary's brow He prayed for thco ! He 's paid thy ransom now. Ihat prayer arose for each believing Jew ; And, ransomed Gentile, Jesus prayed for you ! PART IX. Ye, who have plunged beneath the crimson tide Ihat flows in torrents from the Saviour's side, Yet oft distressed and tempted to repine At the just dealings of a hand divine ; Think of your Master, — of the Man of woes, — Then blush that from your lips one murmur flows. He found no place to lay his weary head. Save where the drops of chilling dew were shed ; He blessed his murderers with his latest breath, * And died for you a base and painful death. Then cease your sad complaints, your mercies own, And fall before your heavenly Father's throne • Your Mediator view, his love adore, ' Aad praioo iiis uamo for ever, evermore. TUJS PBOMISES. Ifr^ ?"■"*''* ^'"S. With sadly-drooping head. From hi8 own aon in fear and terror fled And crossed the stream, pursued by raeiL foe- While from h.s breast the troubled sigh aroe' t D -I.' «* ""^^ »'■'»"»'' marked hi fac'e • So David's Heir passes the self-same place, I^r In .k" r*" r* "■"* destruction lie ; ior, lo ! tho Son of David comes to die ! Whf]«S '•'.'""'f ^"'^ '^'"' P^x^ive air, And f„r .K T '?''•' "'"""'y '■»»»w there, ' Where he was wont with that dear grouo to meet • But separation now and death arc n^ar !!^ ""*' ' All „ir- °? """'1 "•"'« '"''^d disciples here ^"; " '' "?'"' "■"• «'!". ""d scarce a breeze' Sighs through the branches of the lofty trte^ OtVIn *''* ^ 'f"'^ ^P"' ■■^"^ east an S Of gloom and sadness on each object there Of mVhM ".""r" '^'^ *« ■"« Aed qTeea aL 1 V?''' '*'"'" "P"" "-^ 'o'emn scene. And sheds her rays upon her Maker's brow _ Ah ! does she know that Maker suffers now ? In fervent prayer, upon the dark ercen sod Be oH behoW. the suffering Son of ff^d" "''■ O wh. f r'u° 7^ '"''^'^ ""'» ''«»™'' above ! _ O, what a look of agony and love ! Whi ! ^1 u- ^r^' ''5"« ^^ *^»"'er's throne. While from his bosom bursts the hoavv eroan Whde drops of blood, that stain the ZVZ~ O wha,T'"^ 'rs of grief and anguish flow,- .71, ?! ", *"■•>■ "^^ f™™ the achiiia hear" "My Father, let this bitter cup depaH If such thv will • ;e „„. .u.. ."-,, T* .' T- iL* 1 '\ ',"" ' " ""^' *•",>' wiii De done i " In this dark hour thus cries the suffering Son, 87 i 68 IHS PEOMISES. While every word rings in the Father's ear, And weeping angels wonder as they hear. All heaven is gazing on the dreadful sight ! Throughout its mansions of eternal light Silence now reigns; celestial forms appear; On noiseless wing they move from sphere to sphere ; And, kneeling there upon the blood-stained sod, They twine their arms around the Son of Gt)d. O, sinner, to that garden now repair ! Behold the dreadful scene enacted there ! Behold the blood, behold the tears that fall, And tell the anguish of the Lord of all ! Behold the depths of agony and woe Those up-raised eyes, those death-like features show ! List to the wild and the heart-rending cries That from his pale and trembling lips arise ; Then quickly, sinner, to his bosom flee, For Jesus suffers all this woe for thee ! Thy sins are laid upon his guiltless head, And for thy sake alone those tears are shed ; For thee alone he drinks the cup of pain ; O ! shall he drink that bitter draught i'^ vain ? Unhappy soul ! and can it, can it be. That Jesus suffers all these pangs for thee. And thou art still unmoved? canst still deride, And east such deep, such wondrous love aside ? Ah ! then the sobs that heave that bursting heart Have sealed thy doom ; thy sentei je is, " Depart ! *■ And the same lips that breathe the earnest prayer, Shall speak that word of horror and despair ! How strange the scene ! in agony and tears, ' And bathed in blood, the Bon of God appears ; While his disciples fold upon their breast 'Pr«/i»i« f>i»%ia «i>^^ ..^..1. I„x~ j.l_'__^ ^ , ^iiVii SiUJC, SUU w*4*u iiii>v a S\)\i'%iliillu kQoZf Tini PBOMIOBS. f And peaceful slumbers guard each quiet brow ; O, how forgetful of their Master now ! With pallid cheek he seeks their resting-place, And mournfully he gazes on each face; Then in a tone of sorrow and surprise, Mingled with love and mild reproach, he cries : "What ! do ye sleep ? could ye not watch one hour ? ^eware, beware ye of the tempter's power ! " Again he prays; again the sighs of grief Buret from the heart which finds no sweet relief; And all the pangs the human heart e'er felt, By dark despair or cruel torment dealt, And all the pangs the heart may ever know, Were naught compared to that dark cup of woe Ihat Jesus drinks, the great Anointed One ; And meekly cries, « Father, thy wUi be done!" And while such pangs their Master^s bosom fill, Ihe trail disciples, are they sleeping still ? Ah, little group ! unconscious of the storm That darkly gathers round your Master's form, btrong in your boasted lovo, how will ye stand? The dreadful hour of trial is at hand. O ! then look up, and seek support above, lor 'tis the trial of your faith and love. And yet they slumbered ; balmy sleep stUl pressed Iheir weary eyes, and soothed the troubled breast, When the sad accents pierced each heavy ear : "Sleep on, and take your rest; the hour is here; I am betrayed, — to sinners basely sold, And the vile traitor even now behold ! " Scarce had he ceased v/hen fearful sounds were heard, And DOW and then a quick, half-whispered word Broke harshlv nn iha r tht^ W03 I. lO wounded spirits dear. Far in the distance, while the shades of night Closely concealed his form from human sight, One of that Lcattf red band, with timid mien, Ju3fc kf,pt ?n view the captive Nazarene. And cai? k bo the trembling coward there Is Ise ^ybo once, with bold and zealous air, Protested that, whatever might betide. He still would cling unto his Master's side? He still would follow, though it were to die ? Yet now he comes that Master to deny ! I« the proud hall of sin, — the dark retreat, Where bitter strife and deadly hatred meet, The Baviou§ stands, — himself alone serene, — And calmly gazes on the fearful scene ; While eyes that flash and tell the inward storm Are fixed upon his firm and noble form. And murderous hands his smiling brow dare smite, Has he no friend to plead his cause to-night? ! has the friend of every friendless name. Whose love and pity all alike might claim, Who never J)ade the mourning one depart. But found a balm for every wounded heart — T2 THE PRoatais. T^f„^. " n '?'*"^ ^ ''""* ''''' 8"«'" »"<» shame, lo face all dangers to confess his name 7 Alas ! alas ! in this dark hour of woe He finds no friend, he finds no pitvinp foe • Mocked and betrayed rejected and dtspis^l, While foes insult, above each taunt and jeer A W k"?u """"? '■""« ""' «»« Saviour's ear ! A few short hours before, that very tone Whispered of love, of endless love alone- And now, #hile false accusers there arise, WZT- 't'^lT ""^ '"""^ i» their ey^s,- Ah^y',u"^J'"^, '^'" ^''^ Wasphemiis blend. - He ioins hi ^'f '^■'"'P'' P^™ " fri«" THE PROMISES. 76 n/^. • ■ * Of me alone its duo let justice take, And spare the blood-bought sinner for my sake." Soon as the sun, arising to the sight, With orient beams dispersed the shades of night, The Son of Uod, the mighty Lord of all, ^ Calm and serene, entered the judgment-hall ; ?^a,i^nr'Jf K^'*/'^^r/^' '"^^^ '^' ^^^ ^°^ strife, Uamored for blood and for the Saviour's life Jliach accusation Jesus calmly heard ; His lips breathed not one justifying 'word • Not one offended loo^ his features wore * Not one dark frown his lovely brow pas^d o'er ; When by the guilty and the base reviled, J he hon of God in sweet submission smiled: ' And Pilate wondered as, with eager air. He glanced around upon the rabble there Then turned his eyes upon the Nazarene,* Where God-like love and majesty were seen ; Ht gazed awhile, his beaming eye grew dim, He cried aloud, " I find nc fault in him " But hearts that thirsted raised again the cry In wilder tones, " Let the blasphemei lie ' " — 11 What evil hath he done ? " Each voice replied. Away V h him — let . Im be crucified ! " The raging cf^wd, impatxoat of the scene. Heaped their invectives on th Xazarene And loudly sought that one aould 'o released According to the custom ot their * f Which then drew near (alas ! before ihe'> eyes. With tranquil brow, appeared the sacrifice : Ihe chosen Lam', stood bv the altar's side: His doom is sealed ; let him be crucified). ^^ nd when their ruler, on whosA fpQt.rn;r,«V„«« iJeep tboug] t and anxious care had left°thei7traoe, re THB fmhiisas. tt Once more demanded, with excited mien, What shall I do, then, with the Nazarene?"— . Away with him ! " the r^rious rabble cried, " Away with him ! — let him be crucified ! " Then he released the guilty and the vile. And shouts of approbation rose the while ; And those fierce shouts grew loud and louder still As he delivered JesuB to their will ! Scourged, and reviled, and mocked by e-^ .y eye, The Saviour of mankind comes forth to die, Wearing the scarlet robe — the crc vn of thorns Upon the brow which still a smile adorns ; And in his hand a paltry reed he ^orc, Placed there by scoffing ones who knelt before, 4°i.-.^°"^'^ cried, in tones of proud disdain,— While every voice caught up the bitter strain, And every knee was bent in mockery there, As burst that shout upon the quiet air, From lips that dared at God's own Son to rail? That cry arose, " Hail, mighty King ! all hail ! » Ah ! ye who round the smitten Saviour bow, And place the thorny crown upon his brow, And in his hand, in this last, trying hour, ' The slender reed, as emblem of his power; The time will come, the awful morn will rise, When the last trump shall rend the vaulted skies,— When vivid lightnings glare, and thunders roll. And strike their terrors to the guilty soul, — When heaven's bright legions shall to earth descend In dreadful pomp, and time itself shall end : Then ye shall view, the foremost in the scene, ihe now despised, rejected Nazarene ; JNot decked in tfarm<»n*o ♦v^"* Uf>«^^„i_ !.?_ r _ JJut robed m power, 'mid storm and raging flame ; THE PROMISfig. 17 No croTrn of thorng, euoh as he weareth now. ^ut dmdeir.^ of glory on his brow ; ^0 fragile reed that mighty arm shall gway * Above his foes in that tremendous day ; A rod of iron shall supplant the reed In the strong hand of the appointed Seed ! ihat rod shall fall, with unrelenting blow, And dash in pieces evory trembling foe ; And while they sink 'mid wails of deep despair. inat rise m vain upon the lurid air, And loudly shriek, with wild and haggard mien. ^or hopeless mercy to the Nazarene, The Serpent, too, shall writhe beneath his tread. The woman's Seed shall bruise the Serpent's head. The sun shone brightly in the azure sky, Uilding each shining dome and turret high, -^ The warbler's notes broke on the balmy air, The vine and fig-tree shed their fragrance there, — As through the towering gates a lawless throng, VV ith ribald jeers and curses, passed along ; While m their midst, with an unearthly mien, Bearing his crosfl, a noble form was seen. With bloody brow, which cruel thorns had pressed. With palhd cheek, and with a heaving breast. He struggled on beneath the heavy weight Of that huge cross, — the burden was too great : iamter and fainter grown at every breath, While o'er his features spread the hue of death, His trembling limbs the cross refused to bear. And bowed beneath the shameful burden there. And, while another the dread emblem bore. The taunting mob pressed on their way once more; When, far above the noise and tumult there, ' ixcOo© a, waii of ttijguiah and despair ; 78 TUB PR0MISK8. For faithful friends, whoso tears in torrents poured, Wh© long had loved, had worshipped and adored, And shared the sorrows of the Nazareno, Now gazed in horror on that dreadful scene. Well they remembered that when grief and woe f^d laid their hopes, their fondest hopes, full low,— .''hen death had taken all they prized on earth, And severed loved ones reared around one hearth, When foes had risen with malicious art, And pointed arrows at the aching heart, — Well they remembered how a soothing voice Had gently bade their drooping souls rejoice ; Well they remembered how a smiling face Had bent o'er those that slept in death's embrace,— Had, with one gesture, burst death's bands in twain, Restored their loved ones to their arms again ; Well they remembered how a faithful friend Unto their woes a pitying ear would lend, — Would shelter them I'rom every rude alarm. And throw round them his all-supporting arm. To guard and shield them from the gathering blast,— A steadfast friend, who loved them to the last. And as they saw that friend, in love the same, Marked for a felon's doom, — a death of shame, — From trembling lips a piercing cry arose, A cry of anguish for the Man of woes. That wild lament fell on the Saviour's car ; Sadly ho turned —gazed on that group so dear, Listened awhile to catch each plaintive moan. Then murmured in a low and tender tone ; " Ye mournings ones, your lamentations keep; Weep for yourselves, and for your children weep ! ** The train passed on, gained Calvary'^ quiet hill ; The eager crowd stood motionlcs;? and still. THE PROMISES. 79 But hark ! 0, hark ! from Canary's sacred brow 1 ho cruel strokes sound loud and louder now : Ihe upraised hammer deals the furious blow : sfrnV? fV ""! 'T"'^'^ *^'«" ^^^^^'"8 »^^«d8 below. btroke after stroke the echoing hills repeat : The heavy iron rends the Saviour's feet. Un human ears the dreadful echo rings, And listening angels wave their shining wines In horror and amaze, while tears of woe Adown their cheeks in sudden torrents flow: And stainless hearts, that never sighed before, With grief and sorrow now are gushing o'er. On either hand another cross was reared : A malefactor on each cross appeared.; While in their midst, as vilest of the three, Ihe bon of God hung on the cursed tree. Around the cross the furious rabble stood, And as they marked the agony -the blood - i.oud peals of laughter shook the azure sky. And priests and rulers joined the taunting cry. But over all one yearning prayer arose, 1 ^ "/„.,"'. '^^.''' \^^ '« P^^^ding for his foes ! - father, forgive them ! " those sweet accents fell Upon the ear which loved th«t voice so well : 1 hose very tones, e'en now so loud and clear Are ringing in the Father's holy ear ; Ihe melting prayer that rose from Calvary's hill Kesoands throughout the heavenly mansions still. The wretched thief, wilh wildly heaving heart. With writhing brow, and livid lips apart,^ ' With eyes that rolled in agony and woe. Looked sadly down upon the scene below, xnen guzuu upon the dying Saviour's face, Where love and pity found a resting-place. 80 THI PR0MISS8. He saw him raise his«beaining eyes above ; He heard that prayer, — that prayer of wondrous love, It fired the heart which guilt had rendered cold ; Adown his sunburnt cheeks the tear-drops rolled j Faith, all exulting, found a place of rest Within the felon's dark and guilty breast ; She pointed to the Victim by "his side, She bade him gaze upon the ghastly tide Which freely gushed from his Redeemer's veins, That he might wash away his filthy stains ; Then pointed far beyond that scene of gloom. Far, far beyond the cold and dreary tomb. To the blest morn when the pale sufferer there Would be proclaimed as God's eternal heir. With swelling heart, though with a fainting frame, The dying thief called on his Saviour's name : " When thou shalt sit upon thy glorious throne, And take the crown and kingdom for thine own ; When earth its dread, its awful Judge shall see, In that great day, Lord, remember me ! " A ray of joy the Saviour's brow passed o'er, A smile of love. his gentle features wore, As, in a calm and tender voice, he cried : " When thou shalt cross death's dark and dismal tide, A scene of bliss shall on thy vision rise, And thou shalt be with me in Paradise." 0, glorious promise to that troubled soul ! What though the streams of ghastly life-blood roll ? What though the pangs of nature rack thy brain ? Thy griefs will soon be past, thy spirit gain A place of rest, — a bright, a happy shore, t Where sin and grief, where pain and death, are 0*©r. And when thy Saviour from the bending skies C!L_ii k:j aU- u_j:«s _r u:.- __:_a ?__ THS PR0MI8K8. Vtom every sUm of earthly passion free. Thy gracious Lord will then remember thee. A little group, with tearful cheek and eye, Sl^^ hJ".? ■"""* *^'" ^"^^"^ ^*^ sorrow's sigh. Non^bu^t alZr; l"^ ,"!'* *''«™ """ "^ose loe W°"!, "."""'e'' s breaking heart might knew ' And flrr'"« T "''' '^'^ '"> ''iid^deapairr' A^d 1 1 "'"'" '."f '""^ ~ ^^^ Vi<='™ there. . And as she saw the streams of life-blood start iTdVv7vrr'/"'"« '■™'» l-o- bursti 'i heart; And every look of sorrow and of pain faeemed as 't would rend that mother's breast in twain And by her side appeared a manly form, All heedless of the scornful lip and eye Ho only saw that bleeding fori, on high ; He only saw that dear, devoted friend : F.!r7% .'"■"T" "'■ ^"^^'"g blood descend fn fin V""" \*"'''' »■"" "ft •"•<' clasped his owa In fond embraco that told of love alone. He saw the brow, which he had oa caressed. All pa e and mangled, and the loving breast Andl'^l '■' °^. 'f^'^'''^ "i"* ohSe air. And gently nestled close and closer there, - While the pure heart with love too strong to soeak Had fondly throbbed against his pillow^ahe^ _ He saw that breast heaving With woe and pak- Deep anguish rac-kcd his wildly burning bra'L" ' And as the raging billows o'er him sweL ' The loved disciple bowed his head and wept. With yearning heart the dying Saviour i xT«i„ rss i„ _. _^ L^ \ THB PBOMISEB. And bow the tnee around one mero/Ct ffi« fnhf ?-"'^' "P- '''"' '«^«™nS brow Both as a Victim ami n P • A '^*^*' ^'^ ^^n ! ^v> J-ne guilty sinner spare ! " Moui'lfr!'''"^ ^^'^^ ^"^' *°"e"ng to its base Its wondrous music charms the'rEoJd ll • And more than all. the Mediator stands ' Ki„7airL"'tr' "^''^ -'«» Ands, TtiZ? \^ 8"ef or sin oppreet. To fly for rufuge to his lovin/brcast And God, the Father, gazin/on the si^ht vvhile on his brow of majesty serene Mercy and love ineffable ire^seen? He can be just, and justify the one ^Vho seeks salvation onlyinrough his Son! TK7-''5f''!'^^ "«wj nor Jewish ritaa alone The institutions of the Gospel own; i^or heathen temples tn thJ. ..^^x... ,„ . «"«« feoan tneir tott rmg shrines forsaie 83 H THE fwniim* The oracles peal forth one noi3 of dread, And all is hushed, the dark illusioa fled. 'T is finished now ; the sacrifice is o'er ; Pain may torment nor sorrow trouble more ; For pale and lifeless, bathed in his own blood, While from hia side pours forth a mingled flood, The Son of God hangs on the shameful cross, And heaven is mourning, earth laments its loss ; While hell resounds with yells of wild delight, For flaming eyes gaze on the dreadful sight. The Serpent all-exulting lifts his head — The Infernal Hegions tremblo 'neath his tread ; With hissing cheers he hails the awful deed. The Serpent now has bruised the '^ woman's Seed.'* PART XI. When trembling souls approach death's narrow tide, How sweet the thougnt, the Prince of glory died ! When the pale mourner bows his aching head On the cold bosom of the dierished dead, And with a heaving breast and tearful face Clasps that dear form in one long, last embrace ; In trembling tones gasps forth a last " adieit," And the cold grave hides from his longing view All that he loved, all that he prized below ; Yet, as he bends in agony and woe With bitter sobs beside tha dismal tomb, A ray of light dispels the fearful gloom ; A voice is heard ; in sweet and soothing strain It gently whispers, " Jesus rose /^ain ! " The day wore on ; the tragedy was o'er ; AU natwre smki as brightly as before; THB PROMISES. ■] The crowd dispersed, and all was hushed and still Yet bv Z' ""^'^ °" *l^'*'"--y'» blood-stained hai. ^et by the cross appeared a faithful few, With steadfast hearts and with devotion true • Who loved ,n life, and death might ne'er dWde Those trusting ones from their iSideemer's sWo With mournful tread, and with a pallid face^ Sfi^ "°A^^u '5? e""^"" - "■ 'oquestered plaie • With h«ar^ r'"' ^t"" ^'^ '« '»"'""« V ell she remembered, when in anguish wl d. ltd s'tin'thi''""?'- ^"^ ^"^ ^^^^^'"•-' --i^^- And still the words m memory would live : liy sins are many, yet I will forgive." Still round that tomb the ransomed sinner hung, Still round that tomb her yearning heart-strini clung • For there she saw her lifeless Master laid. ^ ^' There last ^ is pale but smiling face survevcd : "|^g«i" round that sacred spot, To weep for one who could not be forgot. 8b TUK PROMIBHB. Mmr, and nearer, to the tomb she drew, The tears half blinding the pale mourner's view ; Then started back with an affrighted air,— Two shining angels sat in glory there ! Who fondly Hiniled with beaming eye and brow, And softly whispered, " Wherefore weepest thou?" The soothing voice assured her troubled heart, And kindly bade her gloomy fears depart; She murmured, " Here my Lord and Master lay, But they have borne that Master's form away." And as she spoke, with sad and tearful face, She quickly turned from the sequestered place. When, lo ! a manly fprm appeared to her, Just as she left the lonely sepulchre j "Why dost thou weep? whom dost thou seek?" he cried. With stn^aining eyes she tremblingly replied : *' O ! if thou knowost where my Master lies, A wretched mourner's prayer do not despise ; But show the place; and love this arn>shall '^ay, While I myself will bear my Lord away I " A heavenly smile the stranger's features wvie. As thus she told her love and sorrows o'er ; Then in a low and a familiar tone. Sweet as of yore, thrilling as music's own, He whispered, «• Mary ! "—Wherefore does she start ? \V hy bounds so high that true and yearning heart ? What means the change from woe and dark despair? What means that glowing cheek, that joyful air ? — *A J ??f •'," *^^® °"®^' ^^^^® echoing vales repeat. And tails before a risen Saviour's feet. Her beaming eyes are fixed upon her Lord ! O, what a great, O, what a rich reward Fot all her love, her constancy and care ! * Tor she buuoids her Vmug Saviour there.' What; guiKy sinnpi-. (I, . ' ' ''""^""•g name ! What ! that lone hanVb """' ''"« "I"™ ' Despised !nd l^r ^ bf ^r*"" ""'' '""'^ Wrth. Who '„.id distX i''^. 'if r?' °"^« »'■ «««k. 7% brethren oTtheiLf i"" '"'^ '"'^« t">d - "Got«lln,vbrPtl,lr^['' ■>'.^''"" God?) — >vii. to h.fet'-f4-j;^wd_^^^^^ Andr3,ll7ftfe'^'"«''«^' " Our Saviour li i ,»!;•' ''^u' '"^'"S" 'Pread •• Triumphant o'er the Zk""'"'"'"^'''''' '''» <■»«» •■ Yo8, Jesus livel . tho " "" f'"''""'' ""^ '■ " Destroyed the 'tiU „f ,""'.1"'" "/'""''^ ' Seed" And, ransomed Seri„'?'''; T^T '""^<""^- Which well be/poke ;h" i • ''?'''^'' '«""•• Thy guilty souTreS mittn""" ' ''°"^""'' P'"'«'. There«.rUnonhrd'reru:d"r' To rescue tkfJLt ufi^Zlt ^^r^' ortfe^h^fe^rror-^^^^^ Will he tJZ,u' *t"'J" i" '-^verence fall . ^vthat.m;|oU'K7;at:', MICROCOPY RESOLUTION TEST CHART (ANSI and ISO TEST CHART No. 2) 1.0 I.I 1.25 is 2.8 |2.5 iy£ 1^ |5^ 3.2 163 r III 3.6 2.2 IS. 2.0 1.8 1.4 1.6 ^ APPLIED INA^GE Inc 1653 East Main Street Rochester, New York 14609 (716) 482 - 0300 -Phone (716) 288 - 5989 -Fax USA 90 THE PROMISES. I t And will he plead before bis Father's throne, And plead in vain for what he died alone ? Will God the Father frown upon his Son, Who gave his life, that his will might be done? Has he forgotten Calvary's sacred brow, Ihe cross, the tomb, the lonely garden now ? Ah . those pierced hands and feet, that bleeding side May well remmd him that the Saviour died ^ ' Tan l!I r *hff wounds thy gracious God can see, Lan he forget that they were made for thee ? ^0, sinner, God cannot thy prayer refuse, Although- thy sins and conscience may accuse' FnrTn' ?' ^o^bts-. begone, then, guilty f;ars ! • For thou art safe, so long as Christ appears Thine advocate and friend ; so long as thou Before the throne with trusting heart wilt bow, ihy God will save thee for his own name's sake, JVor earth nor hell thy conadence shall shake. The day that with such wondrous sights arose The glorious day, was drawing to its cfose, ' When two disciples, with dejected mien. With gloomy heart and thoughtful step, were seen Sadly conversing, while the gentle breL, riiat softly whispered through the rustling trees I3^Imy with incense, bore upon its win^s ' Ihe sad account of strange and foarfuf things Mingled with sighs and .with their Master's1i;me And even tears that yearning love would cla?m ' While thus perplexed with many a hope and fear A stranger, clad in coarse array, drew near ' With smiling face and with a fWendlJair ' He joined the lone and melancholy pair : He marked the tearful eye, the drooping head, - Why thus so sad ? » the pitying stranger said .prv side, THE PROMISES. aSou'nltt:,^;^:: flif'n f •''"^^^ ■'"re 7 What dreadful sighl b7v„ i . f'' '"^"'^ witk fear? Hast thou not heafd of Chri^f fh ^T ^''" ^-^ ? The mighty Pronhpf t», ' *''® Nazarene, From som? who "oul ,h '" 'f'"^' ^^"^ What all the nroDh^,!? T'-J" "<" ™c«Ve And mWZunl T"^' "'"^ «f '^03, DM no the ,.'h'!,V"^™«"S '■«''«•' And hailed a a v tt o?"'' f"?"" '"^ "'■">. That rose o'er JJp W„ ""/"' '="'1'. - Its beams around he T' •"'^ >"'8''"^ ^h^^ Proclaim the advelt of 2'"! ' -'^"''^ '"=»d. - Of Judah's linerthat i ^ ""°"' '"='■'• And yet the serpent -i°?^ "'""S^- ">-« ? 91 roQ »»TT »«- sftiS hng years befc «pon a deadly shore ore. m THE PROMISES. Was but an emblem of that royal Seed In whom the nations would be blest indeed, ^or, as the brazen serpent, reared on hi^rh Healed those who raised a supplicating eye, bo Christ was doomed to hang upon the cross, lo heal the dying and to save the lost. Could man, who long upon his laws had trod Appease the ire of an oflFended God ? >V as not the curse, framed by Jehovah's breath, ±iternal woe and everlasting death "? O, guilty man ! 'mid depths of dark despair. The Son of God beheld thee, hopeless, there He saw thee on the brink of ruin stand. Ihe rod of justice in his Father's hand, And cried with melting heart, as thus he saw : '1 will go. Father, to fulfil thy law ; Thy curse is resting on the sinner's head, ^ut 1 will suffer in the sinner's stead ; Ut me take justice, but the sinner spare ' ' And while he raised the supplicating prayer, ^BeS ^'''''"'' ^T^^'^^^' the wondrous tidings ran : * Behold a ransom for degraded man ! ^ Ihe bon of God a lost race will redeem ' ' Prophets caught up the great, the inspiring theme. With hallowed hps and with a searching eye From David's house a mighty heir shall springs U, Zion, hail thy Saviour and thy King " They looked away through many a rolling year, They saw he long expected Christ appear : Ihey saw him wander as a man of grief Bringing to other souls a sweet relief • ' Until at last they marked a crimson flood, O erflowmg with the dy.ng Saviour's blood ! "Upon the altar rudely raised on high They saw the sinless with the sinner dip • ''HE PBOMISJBS. '£hen law the tomb hi, wonZ" ' '""•"^ '"'« ^<^^ '• He marked le blood fh' '""'' '"*'°'^' And as the Kurt las 'J'^""^' *« '"'^^ The debt was cancelled "T"'^'^ ^'"'^ The great Redeeme'^leidtd 2 ^V^^^^^ '■ And yet think v^ t\,/; P "'^ '"'eath : Could bind hWlontV!^ .""""^.^^ »« ^h His utmost strength!- forlZ^ T1 '''" P^er, For the cold Kinff nf J ^^\ * '»'"' hour Wassnre,,se^i:pJ-^^^^^^ /awned, afd Ch^Sl^.L m rose triumphant from i Could The gh It wid( The Vi irom the dead 1 " Their bosoms hfavittihT ^'^""S «/««> — «: the village spires bursil,; i'eT^V, 94 THE PnOMBES. Ue stranger'8 voice had thrilled each raptured heart • They could no sec the stranger's form depar . ' And,. pointing to the burning orb of day Now hasting swiftly on his do.vnward™y, . TT ^\uf "!"'• "■"■ "go'l him thus in vain Upon the board the frugal meal was set Around the board the ifttle group h d Lt ; The smiling stranger, with a wcll-k lown ai; Raised h.s dark eyes, and blessed the pS there His two compamons, who with eager gaz» Had watched him lon», now start^H !n „t, With li„„*;„ 1, . ° startea m amaze ; With beating hearts sprang forward from their seat For •' rr/'''"''''^'^ ''' '^''" Redeemer's feet •' For m that voice and in that beaming brow ' .hey recognized their risen Saviour now? B^/hf?!^" "''/P ''™ ■" ^ ^""^ embrace, But he had turned, and quickly left the place. An^^fin^f-fJ^^' *?' """PPy pair delay, And, fil ed with joy, they hastened on their wav • They might not rest until the faithful few- ^' i^eir dear companions — the blest tidings knew With hurried steps they sought the loneCreal" t ttT :^ th '■" ^' ^^''' -»™un[r ^weet, TdllreLI r jj^s" nf J^t*^^^ -^f °'^- '-"- Th^ Joined the girprl^t ea^^P-.-^^-. Hastened to welcome the approaching pair ■ While hope and fear alternate filled fach b;art " ^0 ZItlTP' '".' *''f'"^"' would stfr * U, aie the tidings true?- no, no, 'tis vain ' It cannot be our Master lives again ; " Not ti we gaze upon his lovely face, Not till our eyes the cruel nail-prints trace, laa MOMisBs. fil'l we Telieve'?" '■' \T^ ^'""■» our own, f'-'^n in their mids7,l5 '^^^^ '" tremb W tODP I» filence gazed nSro'" <^ ^"^''rene f *°'"'' But, ashe marked tL„- °" ">« ^^eDe; ^'"fned on him „t r^orfr*"'"'-^'' ^^^^ ^nd saw them stand r,? ."^ '"''P^e. H« -ftl/ whisptd ■.?&%':??'"/• •^'"^ ''-"•ayed -inen raised his honl .f J^ ^^^ afraid l" ^ * ^- pointed oS:r:t:-:;H.^ Their beami^; j:t fil d" ^ST-? P'-^, And „ "ver w th rh"' ""'^ "''^"^^^'i »ow • *^or never had their Masterr "^ '"f '""S^e ; Sounded so sweet as whe! ,1 '• ' ■''"'"'« He gathered roui -1 hL th'»f .? °'""''" »'«. To give his blessing a„^ "">' devoted band, "Go ye. and teaelf al? 1 r "'■ """""""'I •' The Jew and Greek /hf^"",' '° "'^ ""me- ^"t first proelaS a Saviot"^ ^^ ''''' ""> «"»«; Wlio thirsted for hk hu7 1°"^ '" ""ose ' That they, behe^viJ^ th olh V T^'f ""'' -oe«. And know their risf n S^v?^ '^ ''''ath may live i e shall declare Vo i .•""'' "an forgive ' And bid al nXS'lf'rr''*^^^ '^^^ And though ye meet Ivi. ""•"'""' ^ee ; And tnbuitir„r yorjorSh'"' ""'' '^-. Though persecution. „,;J°f? ?e''e. - T^o«gh;z:„Vo;cM?^^^^^^ ShaU call for blood,' a^dZrtllT'l' . bo poured, 90 TOE PBOMISEa. Yet know that I, your Saviour and your friend, Will bo with you till life itself shall end j And with all those who boldly shall proclaim To a lost world salvation through ray name, In every land, in every age, and clime, Till the last trump shall sound the knell of time." Now lift your heads, ye everlasting g'ates ! The King of Glory for an entrance waits! lie 's burst the bands of death and of the tomb • Lift up your heads, and give the Conqueror room ' liejoice, ye angels, worship and adore. And welcome back the Son of God once more ' Tune all your harps, in joyful numbers raise A song of love, thanksgiving, and of praise ! Throw down your crowns at Prince Immanuel's feet VVhile heaven and earth the glad acclaim repeat. "Worthy the Lamb ! worthy the Lamb once slain ! Worthy the Lamb that died, yet lives again I" The humble followers of the Nazarene In silent awe gazed on the wondroys scene ; Beheld their Lord in power and glory rise Up the bright pathway of the parting skies; And while they strove with piercing eyes in vain lo catch one glimpse of that dear form again. Two angels left the bright and heavenly shore And messages of joy and love they bore. O, glorious message to that faithful band, VVho on the mountain's top bewildered stand ' U, glorious sound to every ransomed soul, l^rom sea to sea, from spreading pole to pole ' In f very age, 0, tell the tidings o'er — "That very Jesus shall return once more ' " Hark ! angel voices rend the vaulted sky, In thrilling tones those shining angels cry I'UE WtOMlSES. The time will come wliPn I ""^^^^ ^°"^e ! te;:^if*=*"* '■■'■■■ your watchword "r ^hf il™ .^T'^^ '" your signal, "ftee L vL-'"l"'^''""<=^' ""n! " And your alarm 0^^ 131" -^"""^^ ">» ^^mb ! •> "Judgment to corae „,'""';"« f"". While^'er your head7tho h^'/f ^"^ ^"^ ^°« •' " And the loud trumpet p Is 1 1 "l"'','' ''^'"'^' "<""«. Kush bravelv forwor!l P "JlJ ^ ,'"''"''"'' "otes, No common prize vour SI .^" '"'"''^'^ '''■'' " On, and still ^ ' S fi ''''''/'''"•'^ ^h"" win. Your glorious P-'nT- "'f"** "'•■""'j' troad, " Go, sound the Gospet trul • ""'"""""^ = A|=d when ye faint a^d feV" ^^fj '-^ •' " Pear not , your jird ','°. "a? '^"' ^-"^ S^'^^^ " tt^:.^Str"----^^^^ 9 - ---o"j - 98 THIS I-KOMISES. Before his throne ye shall exulting stand ; Thet'v 1 ^'r"'^ ^K^''""'' WmanuePs hand; The royal diadem your brows shall wear ; Ihroncs shall await you, and dominion there PART XIII. When the swift wheels of time have ceased to run When dr< id eternity shall be begun, ' When the long, dreary night shall pass away, inen ye, who, turning from earth's cares and strife Have listened to the words of endless Hfe ' ^'' Shall quickly rise on love's triumphant wing, And hail with joy your Saviour and your Kiig. The Prince of Darkness, from his station hurled Now swayed his sceptre in a guilty world; ' ±rom his exalted seat he basely fell And reigned in triumph ov«r earth 'and hell But, hark ! from Eden's bowers, so bright and fair Where trembling stand the first-created paL A voice IS heard, loud as the thunder's roar;' It shakes the new-born earth from shore to here • Jehovah speaks, and, wrapped in fear and gloom ' Angels bend low to hear man's awful doom^ ' But, hark ! once more that deep-toned voice is heard • The lowest depths reecho every word ; '^ ' The faHen hosts tremble with awe and dread : From ZZ " ^"f '^'" ^^"^^^ '^' S^^'Pent's head." From Eden's garden one loud anthem flows ; Hni fi "f i'''^'' ^" '^''y ^S« -«d time Have swelled the notes so lofty and sublime : ^ 'Ju-- Have raised the ery .. v'tf •>','"«' ''"Ptu.e /red The sun, eclipsed bv H °'''''^° ■'O"'' ? And all creation rcml'^?"' ""■''' ""ill fade The Lord will ^oallTlo^- ''""^ '''■"""yed ' «« breath will kh die a e'f"'^^ "'"' '» ™. •Before h s fap^ .i,„ l ''.'^<"'suniin "-"-b. 0. dreadful doom' 1,, '" ??*' ^oom. <^. horrid portion r ."."^""rable fate ! ^"l hushed at Ia7t bv ttY'^i "^^ «''''" «well T'"^ >« our God, we -^ Vi^ J7f "V-""* 'Waited for him lone ' " And Zioa m h" T^' *''« «arth disc' . ^ , • l'}^ W's remove'tte^' ''^^'^ "s''" ■ "■"' While kings shll'l kl f J "lountains fall — «. - - 09 o'er, 100 Tllfi PIlOMISEid. O, dreadful hour! when h(po shall breathe "fare* well," And woe nnd anguish sound her funeral knell ! •♦* Comfort my people," saith the mMity God "And sound, O, sound the glorious news abroad ! Iheir sins are pardoned, and their warfare o'er • borrow and sighing shall be theirs no more ; ' 1 he prize is won, their griefs and toils are past : Ihe year of recompense has come at last, btrengthen the feeble, soothe the wounded heart •• iJid every fear and every doubt depart ; bay to the trembling soul, be of good cheer, Your God in power and glory will appear ;' 1 our God will come to bless you, and to save And to redeem you from the icy grave." ' The Lord will come ; in that tremendous day When earth shall reel, and heaven shall pass away; When storms shall rage and swelling seas shall roar: When lofty cities fall to rise no more • Wh(3n crumbling thrones, from their foundations hurled, bhall feed the flames that wrap a burning world • When crowns shall melt, and kingly brows grow pale; Then, then will burst one wild, one awful wail ! Princes and tyrants will take up the cry, , >Vhile high and low, and rich and poor, reply. When the blest Sun of righteousness shall rise lo set no more, within the eastern skies. Ten thousand times ten thousand jewels bright bhall glisten in the beams of morning lightf Collected from the dark, unfathomed deep. Which never more such precious gems shall keep; *rom Christian countries and from heathen lands; ^'n^oreltr^^'^ '-reave. Kesplendelit thev will • ^''^^ '^'^^'"'^ g^ave ; ' HaKe%K.,!^,^„*°'-'J 'o.-n-s estate. J.W felt the pa-::^";c ::;!;:;,"' ^r-' ""O''^"'. Above tl.0 t«i„b where a h^L . ' "'"' """P' He' :iit',^.X\r f^-^ "■■» ^"'^ "-0. When robeJ in r !'"" '■"''"' «e«'e. 'Mid fi ™ a nd .eC::'' ""= ^T^ ^"^"one. With heaven's uZi "l''' "'^'"■" "fe""" When tht'it t ." ;'trd 'rT "' '"•» '™'-" -• And ever, raee befeffiltf ar::.'" ^''^' f^^:i^^^^^ --1 do.o from tho blosc hour when an;^! „ ^o^iueror home; attnSL'^V^f?*"" With kindling eyTZdh, ^"T^""- Waving the «Cda"d dyed Tn'll ^T T' »««». O'er hill and nlain^l j- ^^°°^ ^"'^ 'eara Keviled and hated '^^h?''l"« ™'"""=«'«- They saw the darkeni 1 hiM "'""'' '»"'' -:;:aT.^Zei?r- When moekti fl ^'"^ *^T°"'« "''me. ' A«derW aSfr,Cit'° Valvar,', brow, "u. Where is jour boasting ^r.lo„ 101 102 THE PROMISES. They raised the cry, " The cross, the blood-stained croHs, For which we count all other things as loss." Where is your hope ? " _ the fearless band replied, "Our hope IS in the risen Crucified " ^ U, glorious hope ! when racked with woe and pain, When doomed the cup of misery to drain. When scorned and hated by the heartless crowd, When persecuted by the great and proud, C^^r'hli'' *^/,^°^^«°«^^ dungeon dark and drear, Uur blessed hope disperses every fear ; With rapturous joy the o'ercharged bosom swells, And songs of praise arise from noisome cells. And though we slumber in the icy tomb Our gloriour. hope dispels the frightml gloom ; fh 11 K-T .^'""'f^^' descending from the%kies, Shall bid the pale and silent dead arise : The dead will hear, and on the wings of love Will quickly mount a flaming world above, While er the raging elements will ring The blissful cry, - 0, death ! where is thy sting?" And one, in lonely exile doomed to roam. Far from his country, without friends or home, - One who had shared hi« Master's wants and woes One who had boldly faced his Master's foes,- ' fetood all alone upon the rocky shore. No sound was heard, save the white billows' roar • No object met the lonely exile's e ' Save the dark sea, and the extended sky : But while he stood with sad and thoughtful air, The cheerless desert bloomed around him there ^at barren isle, where wild the waves were driven • Was deshned to become the gate of heaven ; ' And he the wanderer for his Master's sake, Whose love nor shame nor poverty might shake R. THK I'ROMI.SKS. Was destined dread an.li''^ """■'"' ^'6°'^.- Tl.at ne'er befot^t.;"^"^'; ^"""^ '» ''«">• But 'mid the seenerA.f.^y """■'"' ear: Amid the .ourttaf fii'leTh-'^" '^^f"'"' Sne,- He saw his Master- salth'r'"? ""^^e,-' He heafd his voiee- ^,1 I '"'' ""'^ «'»'° ! And as ho eried, in loud aL "^,7" ^"''^ Wn. ''^0'- I come quictiv fn • ''"g tone, The loved discip" IhVr'^^ "'"<= <"^° " And with a vearnlrj '"'""""g eye, Across the main, the ioWnl i? "« '"^'^ ^d true, It reached the church Tffl . , ° "'''"J It woke an answerJetSt e "l^"^^' '"''^ ' ;And from each Jin ^tl- ""* ^''east; The prayer, " 0, imHu'r^r-'' ''"'^°^'^> ome, our 8av,our, and our Lord !'• T^C^^-SdThe eSS" T- "■« S'-tu Conldst thou the homini '"'?," *«« ««. - The home eternal aUnrf ""^iT «'<»•? »ee, This dreary earth »i S"^'^ ^"'^ thee,—' With all it^s caret' k ^ •* ' ''' P''""^ ""d woes, Ceuld never S'^ ralall' 'T' Could never fill fi,T. / • ^ laJImg tear. ^'easure ^^i&'^^lC}^^ fear ; But never woo thee to he „i?f? "'''"'= ^""^Ms, Earthly ambition lift ;tl^'i"-»lr'^ -.u=veru,ere record thy hum"ble7ame; 103 104 TUK PKOMISES. The storm might rage, the whitening billows roar But naught could daunt the steadfJt pilgrim m»e. A homeless stranger in a foreign clime, With fearless heart and with a faith sublime. Bowed his aged head upon his feeble breast And stretched his limbs in calm and peaceful rest •' The Father of the Faithful " had rSed * I ears rolled away ; his eye with age grew dim • That promise never was fUmiled to him ' A stranger, of the world a chosen heir,' And yet without a home or dwelling there He struggled on 'mid scenes of grief and gloom Th^fX "k '"'' ^"'''" " ^'^"''g-^''^ tomb.^ ' Ihe gentle breezes sweep around his grave. The storms arise, and howling tempests ra -e : The thunders roar, the vivid lightnings glare The Glnin"r ^r** y^"« ^' '«^l«mbifd Ze. Ihe Gentile treads upon his lifeless clay. And his descendants- where, O ! where are thev? Like him they wandered; but. their wander ngscJer WhHe o'erth'e';? ""'*^"f "f '™ -^-^ »"- "»" T' w hue er the ' promised land " the heathen reicn When will the chosen heirs their right obtSn? ^ O, gliastly Death ! exulting o'er thy prev ^r'£-"u"S f '^y '""""<"'' to obey ;^ ^ ^' The high and low of every age and land TCbtT ""''"'^r" '» "'^ ^'"''^ command; Thou hast usurped the mighty monarch's throne And laid him low, — a king of dust alone" Thou hast bereft the humb^ peasan 's hea/th, And torn away all that b, prized on eartn ; ' And tuou nast broken many a bleeding heart ; THE PROMISES. Ihe mighty Lion sprung from Judah's raoP Ine curse renovpo nr. of„- i ,' •*"*^ ■^'^ir. A «... ;.;t-':'S rifi" ""■ A soncr nf i.L :f '^^'' ^*.*"»e-* -uu .xiunKsgivmg they will raise ~" 100 106 THE rR0MISE3. Unto the Lamb who died long years before, VV ho lives and reigns for ever, evermore. From lip to hp, from bounding soul to soul, Redeeming ove ! » shall in glad accents rol ; Redeeming ove ! " shall rend the vaulted sky, Redeeming ove ! » shall echoing spheres reply. Jesus shall reign ; from spreadingVne to zone ^ He shall set up his everlasting throne. The "promised Seed," and David's glorious Heir The eternal crown of royalty shall wear : ' Ihe tears of sorrow never more shall fall : The King, of kings the mighty Lord of all, W th his own ha_ 1 shall wipe away each tear, Wi h his own voice shall calm each rising fea;; While grief and care shall bid a last farfwell io the bright scenes where they no more may dwell. There blighting sickness, there distress and pain ThP iT^'^.^'T '^' ^^"^^"^^^ «»^« again. ^ ' And hi[r. ri' ^'^'^ ^" ^'^' '^^^^ "^^^t once more, And hail each other on a deathless shore, Never o mark the burning tears that fell When last they whispered that dread word " farewell ' The royal City, all divinely fair, ^ * With pearly gates and with majestic air. With golden turrets towering ti the sky bha echo with the glad, the joyful cr/ Of Ghpr glory to the Lamb who died ! Wory and honor to the Cruciaed ! " AndlT^\^'' '^^"^"^ '''''^' ^^' saints shall roam, And find in her an everlasting home ; With unveiled eyes the King of glorv see Then tf t '''''' .^^-^"^ ^^^''« -f^^in? ree. Then shall the promised heirs their ri Jt obtain • As kings and priests those ransomed ones shaTr'eign ; THE PROMISES. Aroun] rfc^r/-, -^ Gentiie now Heirs of one pC e f „?■'"! "'™'"= ^'"'" bow, _ Bought a„, ,^,-r,;XS:^-X-e, 107 PART XV. How ca„f:^^otlC::;-.fjf;: o'er, Hov. canst thou prfzf ts gay b„t ft,?-"« ^^ ^ Wten just before thee bu?{ K .k^l'°S 'oj's ? Appears an unknown worid "" ^'^''^■'' ^ot such a world, fleetZ aLFJ" ""'""'' ^-=^0 •' A world of endless w„r^ f,' "'""SO as this; That thou wilt clina unto^^f . It '" '^«"' And sink at last n m? . ^"^"^ oharms. That thou, ega X^ffhr/'^'^^'^''^'' ^""^^ Wilt plead fofmerv „ ,""->'/'""e state, And, L a &: rhKr^ Tf It /"'''^ Spend a long, long etS^oV^^^J'j^''"^. The gentle murmurs of T • ?""'' ,"=^'>« ^ The laugh a" TZkUn^t^'"''''' ''"-•<' -• In pleasure's hails, wXgarfnd'tt''T.f ""^"^ ^ XX-— ea ...^uuiig, tae beautitUI aad'fair"- ""' 108 THE P110MI3ES. While radiant smiles illumined every face, And music lent enchantment to the place.' The wearied sons of earth had found repose, And aching hearts forgot their cares and woes : Neep balmy sleep, its gentle signet pressed On the pale brow, and soothed the troubled breast. Ihe lonely wanderer m a foreign land l^ar from his home and "his own household band " Slept but to dream of that delightful spot, ' His native home, by day nor night forgot. The wretched captive, with a bitter si.^h Folded his arms and closed his swimming eye. ihe trembling slave, tormented by his woes, blept ; t was to dream of cruel stripes and blows Of the bright future with its golden dreams, bunk into luxury's arms; in sleep the same i^e ightful visions of the future came : Ox)ld, gold their burden -bright, enchanting gold The price of souls, of blood and woe untold^ ^ ' Ihe midnight robber, with a stealthy tread, Upon his mission of destruction sped Ihe weeping mourner, where a loved one slept. With bursting heart her Icnely vigils kept : She bent her ear to catch the feeble moan f hat broke from iips all pale and paler grown ; The dying sufferer raised his eyes once more, -1 One j,ainful gasp, and life's last pang was o';r. The victims ot disease, with heaving%reast, bunk on their sleepless couch, but not to rest. The hours wore on, and silence ruled the night • - One moment more, and 0, how changed the sfht. The thunders bellow in the darkened sky, ^ * Ihe moon grows pale, the sickening Dlanet« a'a . THE PROMISES. The earth is reeling to its centre now ; The ral"/r"'' '^' ^'«™'" >»<»">ta «, bow A vcce ,. mingling with the awful rTa; ■ Th l"a,/rr "'='' "T'-o «hajTbTn„'„ore-" And t 'fK ""^ "■""'P'" '^"^^ the lurid a°r ' |£S=^^--Sn..ore ^pnng into life, and leave the drearv +nmK . The risen dead eZetorth^, I *'"? ^""^ ^^' The fi-t-croated7arrS " he? ::' ^""• oore^tbr„^it"rnti:ir^-<^- The ^fnrmx. ^ 1 ' , ^® *^^* ^nce outrode \r A u 9' ^ ''^^ patriarch aDDenr« danee, O. what a change 'lii? '" ^^> g'''"'"' •' Distorted brows°anrI hTT' ""'^ '''""t despair Who soighfto drown tho *''™'"'^'' ''' ">« ^ord ; ar-hf^^^^^ TWshrietfor.ero; A^I^^Ktie.- Th?;t t s irv'r ?"'"s j^-g. - The living s;i„tsC •;: -« Vr'^f ''-^ -»g. The furrowed cheek, are mor«'*l^ ^""e.worn bro#, The trembling form l! thaToLt ?" ^"?"^^''' "»''• Arrayed in tittered garme„?rt '??-'^"" *° <'»»■•. te^''^' "' -i'h'rtrrtl eTe" " '"'"°'« sTriS:L?lt"-^to'passe„.by_ The victims „f " i ™''^.' ^IPremely blest. '^ - -..^vooc, Me long^istressed. m 112 THE PKOMISKS. Freed from all grief, from ev'ri' earthly stain Mount o'er the couch of suff 'ring Z of pain Never to Borrow more, never to Lw ^ ' The blighting pang, of sickness or of woe. Ihe lonely mourner, who had sighed and went And o'er the cherished dead her vigils kenT^ Beholds the shrouded form immortf I rise'^ ' And with that loved one socks the beambg skies. 0, what a meeting ! every saint is there And angels in that joyful meeting sha e. - AnTt .V- "^ "'■T^'l- P'"""«l> °»nd seers, _ nt ^\l"^'^'t the Son of God appears ' They see the Lamb who died on Calvary's brow To rescue them, and they are like him ^w ' S^/^« '"?' ,"« te is, a mighty King, Ihe Lord of lords ; ana hark ' — - n L.i, i .1. "This is our God,l-we.ttaited'^;r'hn ,0' 7J1"«- This IS our God ! " swells the triumphanrsong.^' 0, what a parting ! what a scene below' Despair and horror, agony and woe ; J^riends part with friends, who loved in ,)»„= e ThT iur;'' ''7.'^^^^ P"' '» -etn mX."' ''''^' Ihe little group that met around one hearth ThTttv^i'^'r f'-^f T ~' Wrth, Have pa;fed"n!.t'ntt1ritjr« P^'- Days may roll on, and weeks, and months an,! ™ B„Mh^' '°"A,'°"S eternity appears, '' ""^ ^"'"'' But they shall meet no morershall never iraza Upon each other's face. Eternal rays ^^ Ut glory cluster round the ransomed one • A as^"tf! ""'' *""f T P*^*' ^^ labors done. Witl n.^r^K"""'"' "^ "•"" ^«^<'Md band, With pallid brows, weeping and wailing stand. TM PROMISES. Awaits them now »n,l f ' I *'''™''' ''oe ^ Soothe their to :Cl°lf ,"" "^ »'"« '""'' ''"•'<»'o.to(hon,,i3o•e^! To wt:fe.!;;,:;S',;^°-J^^ was once a law, With death-palo cheek anV.-i"",'" '"'«' ^'"olds his subject !wh^? ho"" " '■""^'"g f'^«=»st. ^bme brighter than 170, ^ ,! T" r'?"""'"^' And he hin,so!f doomed fo the oTof " «'"''' Iho hauffhty tvrmt ™i. l , P" "' "oe. The laws of- (S' 7^° """^ ^' "■'''do The bol^ of fr 1:' T"'""^ '''"'^^ And made his boS " n"' " ,77 «■"•«• He sees the poor nnn J i i/fetelied slave ; Afric-s despiS'^nT Si-^"''^" --' »^nom he disdoin«^ "fe " g aed sons, Joint heirs wUhOhnC f ''"'■""=" *° ''^"' He sees them free M„ °[/" .?'"™"' tl'i-one .' Bound for thet 'n^" : ^/J«"-ed «'--. ^fc iaice, with none to save ! Who would not face .h7„ M. """ ^ '"'''wn 7 To win the favor't^tt^rt'-'l'-at'^ ''°^ ,Ands.„gthesongofMoisandthTLambJ Timelir.l"""<'"":™.ha« dawned at last. . "'"Ioi~"'*'""»'^'"'y«arshavep.«ed; 114 THE PROMISES. no wlclf. 4e„ • awaken from tho tomb ; Th , > '," '■*'•''' ""^ »'>'f"lat(S their doom And l,cef. tho burden of tho pocf» , o„., _.^' A .o« whoao lowly ,Iust tho marble nrSud il»^ p<.nau out to the aJn,irl„g erowd jTutT, '? '"^ «^"'" of e-'-tl'-b^.hold, they come - JJut i,„( w,i„ o;m„er, nor with beati.. .drum xVo herald »ou,.ds tho hero's .storied name No laurel wreaths their victory nroela" m ' 1 or haughty kings obey the summons Jread: And they to whom tho nations bowed the knee Who swayed their sceptre over land .nd ««, ' ranas at tho judgment-bar ; nor sich nor wn.-^ V^scapes that vast assembly; naught is he Jd Thoughout the broad creation ; e?ory Lhere S^!"?%">» '™l«'^. pausing as if to h^oar The bnnl" '"'""" ''^}^'''°' Wack despair. The books are opened ; every name is there J^ngravod by hand almighty and div ne ' And every deed and eveVdark des'^:' Another book is opened ; not a blot ^ f , it* """" g'o'-y "nd immortal fame And there are deeds of valor, doedf o love Lightly estoc^med on earth, but prized aC Each tear, each sigh, eaeh'suppCt ,t pr yor Each pure desire, all are recii^ded there ^ ' » TUJB PaOMI8E3. 115 !ome ! ne; Each knee is bent, each hen rt forgotn to beat. The n^i -Ty -' ^t J"^^^^ «^'^"'^' " ^V^^'II done." Ihe prize is theirs, the victr ry is won. Thn J\Z" ^; J"%''^ ^'•^«^' ^'^^'^ ^"d severe : Those at the left their awful scnter, o hour : . Depar , ye cursed ! " - one tcrritic yelJ, They sink, they sink, into an endless hell ! In chains of everlasting darkness bound, Ihrou^^h nil eternity to hear no sound Have howls of spirits lost, and horrid erics U rhe dread worm that never, never dies! Ihe gates are closed, never io open more : Satan s dominion and his power are o'er ' Chained on the Kurning lake he rages there, His legions shrink away in deep despair ! Ihe gates are closed ; the monsters. Death and Sin The berpent's offspring, shut forevei in, * Howl round their prey, which, in their turn, reply With curses, and with shrieks of agony ^^ Yet Liost tormented by the dreadful thought, Pardon was offered — we received it not!" The earth renewed presents a glorious scene : Mountains and valleys of perpetual green ; Delicious plains, and odorif 'reus bowers, Unfading forests, never-dying flowers : i ruits that on fragrant trees immortal grow stivers that murmur sweetly as they flow ' And gardens decked with everlasting spring. And shining warblers on the tireless wing.^ No howling tempest breaks the sweet repte. No piercing thorn surrounds the blushing ro e, No sultry heat parches those blooming plains. No night is known wKnm A.„ ^„..„.-..^. S ' • vtuj, iuiuvui reigns; ii 116 ^ f THB PBOMISES. \ No thunder's roar, no lightning's vivid glare No darkened sky, disturL the beauty there The royal city, the divine abode Uf ransomed men and their eternal God Rises 'm.d blooming bowers and lofty tre'es And waves ,ts banners to the gentle breeze Upon as pearly gates and shining walls A flood of everlasting glory falls! And tinges with its own delightful glow ' The lovely river murmuring below. ^ That river from the living fountain springs And, guided by the njighty King of king? It wanders through the saints' celestial h1,me Where, robed m white, the ransomed natSroam Through golden streets, and gardens br^ht and fr" . And on Its banks stands life's unfadinglr L ' AH, a 1 ,s bliss, and love, and glory there • Nopam no sickness, no eorrodVcare ' No hml' "l ''f'"^ ''"'"•'«' "» te"f»l eyes, ^0 broken bands, and there no severed ties • Ihe Prince of Peace, the great Immanuel reigns 'ArouWeTh "''*' "^r^'y "g^ ^"^ land ^ Around the throne a glorious throng thev stand • The crown of ife,the blood-washedibTthey wm ^e conqueror's palms of victory thev bear ' l^I^'f, '^" l"'"' '^^y '"'«« the joyfureVe • h^w .1* u^V ''"''•' *■'»' ^««t assembly crv Viwi; V''? ^T"* *" ^' «^»"'"» thus, ^ ^' ^ orthy the Lamb, for he was slain fo^ us ' " • Glory and honor to our God and King - " RELIGION AND CONSOLATION roam ifree; jns. wear, As morning'a earliest beams began To light the homes of sleeping man, Two radiant forms, with heavenly air, With beaming eyes and waving hair, ' Approached, with footsteps soft and still The summit of a lofty hill, ' Which overhung a lovely glen. Far from the busy haunts of men. Beneath a proud and mighty oak. Which oft had warded off the stroke Of raging storm and howling blast Upon its noble visage cast, They sat them down with twining arms: And while a thousand blissful charms bhone forth in sweet and quiet grace, They gazed into each other's face. Sisters they seemed of kindred heart And never formed to live apart ; And though they now had made their home Upon the earth, where mortals roam, Yet something in their aspect told That they were not of human mould : - . -rv v^vu^ii „ucy uuw were seen on earth, iiiey surely were of heavenly birth. lis RELIGION AND CONSOLATION. Happy and pure their souls had been Unknown to care, unstained by sin, But now a shadow, dark and sad, O erspread their brows once gay and dad • And shining tears began to flow ^ ' As they gazed on the scene below. iiehold that young and lovely bride ' But yester-mornn joyful tr in I'assed over yonder flowery plain • ^° 1 i ?^^ "^^^P^ i» anguifeh now Breathed forth the sacred bridal yow And phghted heart and hand to him ' Whose ear IS dull, whose eye is dim ; Buf yesterday a happy bride, ' Sanding by a loved husband's side; But now, of woe the hapless prey, bhe mourns, a widow lone to-^ay." The other bowed her gentle head. And ma mournful whisker said: ' txo, sister, go, and cheer her heart- ^d up each bruised and aching paVt. Thine IS the power to soften grief And thine the power to bring relief." And^;°° ;u*\°"^^ ^^^^^y I would fly, And wipe the tear-drops fro^i her eve • Though gladly I would bring a rest^ ' . A bal^ unto her wounded bf east?' To bid th. ^- P'^^^' *^°«g^ «^i"e the will i bid the raging storm be still. ' My tender oflSce comes not ther«. \ RELIGION AND CONSOLATION. For how can I with such grief cope *> bhe weeps as those who have no hope. And well tlTDu knowest, sister dear, Ihy voice has never reached her ear Thou knowest well that in her heart * Ihine image never claimed a part; That thou wert gazed upon with scorn, % that proud soul, in youth's bright morn : And still with 10% pride she spunis Ihe altars where thy incense burns. Ihen how can I an entrance win Where my sweet sister ne'er has been ? t> ! how can Consolation cheer. When bright Religion comes not near?" Religion raised her tearful eye. And murmured with a bitter sigh : " ^' g^^*^^^' g^a^ly. would 1 go, And ease her spirit of its woe I But often have I crossed her way, And bade her for one moment stay. To hear the doctrine that I taught ; And yet she heard, she heard me not; -But with an air of scorn and pride. She coldly spurned me from her side ! iNor me alone, but with a look Of proud disdain and harsh rebuke, She spurned the mighty Son of God ; She spurned the paths where he had trod ; And with quick footsteps hurrying on. She bade me from her sight begone. And seek the old, the poor, the low. And those bowed down with grief and woe* But that Jm- heart was light and free * And gho had no ' • - ° ' 119 J-. uuaire loi itie. 120 RELIOION AND CONSOI^TION. But now she sheds the burning tear: Not even Hope can linger near ; J; or she, sweet sister, follows tKee, And thou hast ever followed me Where'er thy gentle footsteps stray Mine own have always led the way : And I have never filled one place Which has not seen thy smiling face. Iruly thou canst afford no balm Her anguish and her woe to calm : ^or she has scorned that glorious One, Our great Protector, and our Sun. And she has scorned thy sister's aid: And now the dark, the dismal shade yt hopeless grief rests on her soul. And she must bow to its control » And as she spoke the gentle pair In sorrow wept together there. X^J^^'lT^^ u*^^'"^^ ^^^^^ her head, And with a sob of anguish said: . ' Ah ! little thought I when the sun At yester morn his race begun, iHat I, a bride, the gay and blest, Long long before he sunk to rest Ihe tears of agony would shed Above the wedded, but the dead ! 1 htt le thought that I, to-day, bhould cast my bridal robe away • And wear instead the sable drei,' Joined with mine own in holy band, A n^ ^{ T\*^ ""'* '" ''^^ ^»d still ; And the dark eye, that well might thrill IlELiaiON AND CONSOLATION. Mj beating heart would thrill no more, While mine the burning rain would pour! I little thought to-da J his bride ^ Would stand a widow by his side, n^^\Tl ^ ^^^'^ o'ereharged with roe, Behold her every hope laid low : — Her every hope; for now, 0, where ban she find refuge from despair ? xiru' ^"^ ^^* ^ recollect the day aZ. '' "^^"-^ "^'^'i^' ''''^ ^'' ^^'^ breath, Almost expiring m death, ' . m/^}.* u'Vr'^' ^" *^"^^i«g tone, . •My child, I leave thee not alone ! Trust m my God, and He will be A Iriend a constant friend, to thee. O seek Kehgion in thy youth ! bhe 11 fill with peace thy aching breast, And guide thee to the port of ilst.' " Religion soothed my mother's fear When Death with icy form drew near ; And with a calm and joyful eye fehe quitted earth without a sigh ; ior bnght Keligion threw her arm Around her form to shield from harm: And with that sure and steadfast stay Her soul passed peacefully away. A u ?' *S^* ^ ^^^ ^^^^^ finI1 :. • ««is.-_- viiVV, X il Ji 5-;vcr, never yieid I r*>, 128 TUB BROTJIERS. My foes are strong and fierce as thine ; My glorious Captain is divine. With his own blood, for sinners shed, He marks the path I have to tread. He spreads his banners to the sky ; • He bids me haste, he bids me fly, By all his sufferings on the cross, To save the dying and the lost ; By all his agony and woe, By all his love, he bids me go To lands enshrouded by despair. To plant his glorious standard there ! And it shall be my highest aim To publish, through my Master's name, A Saviour's love, a Saviour's grace, Unto a sinful, heathen race. " We part — and we may never meet, May never hold communion sweet ; But there 's a world beyond the grave. Beyond death's dark and gloomy wave A rest I humbly hope to share ; 0, brother! shall X meet thee there? We 've shared on earth one common home, And one in heart we still shall roam ; We 've loved, we 've soothed each other's grief, And each to each has brought relief; ! shall we meet around the throne, With crowns of life, and heaven our own ? Shall we both join the blood-washed throng? Shall we both swell the Conqueror's song? 0, brother ! that devoted band. From ev'ry clime and ev'ry land, Have washed away their guilty stains In blood drawn from Immanuel's veins. i; et, )me, r's grief, V7n? rong ? ng? TOE BROTHERS. 129 And J^muHf plunge be; -h ^ho flood Filled with the dying Saviour's blood; Ihou, too, before the throne must fall. Kesign th; pride, thy will, thine all, ihyeago thirst for earthly fame — Before ^ o u arid confess His name ; Ur thou canst never reach the shore Where grief and pain are felt no more. " Thou oft hast frowned when I have shown The way to God's Eternal Throne ; — ' T was galling to thy haughty heart; — ^ut since that we so soon must part, Thou wilt not frown, thou wilt not chide; And when the waves shall us divide, And I no more thy form can see, then I '11 bend the suppliant knee; 1 11 pray, as ne'er I prayed before, Ihat it on earth we meet no more, VVe each may grasp the other's hand Within the bright, the better land, And crowns of life and glory wear ! U, brother, seek an entrance there ! " The haughty youth did not reply. The tear-drop filled his dimming eye: Upon his brother's face he gazed, And each their trembling voices raised : " Brother, we part, we part ; We leave our childhood's home ; With faltering step and heart. We lonely wanderers roam ; In forests green, On hill in flnH We meet no more ; Farewell, farewell ! mt 130 THE BROTHERS. "Brother, we part, we part; . To-morrow's sun shall set On throbbing brow and heart That never can forget. With love the same Each heart shall swell Through rolling years ; Farewell, farewell ! " Brother, we part, we part ; And if we meet no more. We '11 meet with yearning heart Upon a better shore. Then, then, our bliss No tongue can tell. Brother, we part ; Farewell, farewell ! " The song had ceased : a^ain they spoke, Again the painful silence broke. '' ^^otlier, we '11 set a day, a year, When we will meet together here ; If we are spared, in ten years more VVe '11 seek again our native shore, — Together roam o'er hill and glen. Adieu, dear bower; adieu, till then I » PART II. MiTu^^^f ?^^®^ away — ten dreary years, With all their changes, hopes and fears. Ihe sun was sinking ; his last fires Kested upon the church's spires ; The moon was rising to the view. Amid the broad expanse of blue,' TUB BBOTHERa. When, crossing o'er the village green 4;'°"!.'y/?nderer was seen. ^ With faltering step he moved alone- §! iT'^ '^ nightingale's sweet sfn'g • sigh softly through the fragrant trees • He saw h.s childhood's home aga n ' And burning tear-drops fell likf rain AU nature looked as Llm and fa r As when a boy he wandered there- As beautiful the hill and glen; ' And there his father's house appeared But ah ! he saw the ft™ no more That used to cluster round the door- &;^ "O"""™ the joyful tone ' Ihat used to welcome him at home - He saw no more the smiling face Eeceaved no more the fond embrace. "I view the scenes of other yeirs, I view my chUdhood's home ; Why fall so fast, ye scalding tears? And why, my heart, so lone? " ^'unon 7, • "' ^"ff ™«« ""s' I gazed Upon this peaceful spot ; ® wi?"?' /""S -^""^ - "las ! alas • What changes they have wrought ! "The wild flowers blossom in the dell, « 7 7> I"""!! ™ns just as clear; But^ 0, the friends I loved so wdl i^-^ay never meei me here ! 131 132 THE BROTHERS. " The gardens bloom, but not as then ; No tender hand bestows Its care upon the trailing vines, Or on the fragrant rose. " There stands our old ancestral home, And there the tall elms wa^a; But, ah ! they cast their shadows o'er My father's lowly grave. (( And by his side another sleeps Within that dreary bed, Where death alone his vigil keeps, — My mother, too, is dead. " All that I loved have passed away, And, 0, how changed am I ! — I went with health upon my cheek, I now return to die. " From India's burning clime I come, With pale and haggard brow ; Just spared, perhaps to view this hour ; - 0, brother ! where art thou ? " He spoke no more ; with drooping head, And with a slow and thoughtful tread, He sought the bower — the chosen bower ; He waited till the appointed hour. No brother came. With anxious brow, And heart that beat all wildly now, He wandered forth and gazed around ; When, lo ! a horse's clanging bound Disturbed the quiet of the scene Where silence long alone had been; \ THE BROTHER?. • And soon a proud and stately form As born to battle with the storm, ' With eager look and rapid pace, Approached to the sequestered place. His hp was stern, his bearing high, A strange light in his flashing eye: His trusty sword he proudly wore ; A plume his brow was waving o'er • His once fair cheek was changed to' brown ; His haughty features wore a frown- And shinmg sword, and waving crest, And star upon the noble breast. And hp that seemed to smile at grief ^espoke the warrior and the chief. ' Nearer he drew i one mingled cry Of " Brother, brother ! » rent the sky ; And warrior fVom the battle plain i^orgot awhile the martial strain, And warrior from a heathen land l^orgot awhile the dark-browed band Of ransomed ones who used to meet With him around the mercy-seat; ^or brothers, parted long before, Kushed to each other's arms once more : And hearts beat high, and tear-drops fell, As when they bade to each farewell. The brothers wept; for in that hour fetern memory, with her wondrous power, Kecalled the scenes of other years -- Their mutual hopes, their mutual fears, The frieHds whom they had loved before, And friends whom they might meet no more, ihey saw the change that time had wrought: -Liua, u, iiow sad the bitter thought " ' 12 *= ' 133 ■ ^•SL 134 THE BROTHERS. That they, the fond and faithful pair, Who oft had met together there, Were also changed ! for one pale brow Bespoke of care and suiFering now ; The hollow cheek, the painful breath, Spoke strangely of the tomb, of death ! " Brother ! 0, brother ! years have past, And here we meet again at last. We parted in our early youth ; Our hearts were strong with love and truth And time has not those hearts estranged ; But, brother, thou, indeed, art changed. Thy cheek was bright as morning's glow; Care has been thine, and want and woe. 0, tell thy griefs and trials o'er To one who loves thee as of yore ; And if he cannot bring relief. Thy brother sure can share thy grief! " "0, brother! how that voice of thine Thrills through this weary breast of mine ! Tbe very voice I used to hear. Forever loved, forever dear ! — ■T is joy to meet the fond and true, To whom we bade a long adieu ; 'T is joy to hear once more the tone Which seemed an echo of our own ; Then, 0, what joy to meet with thee. Thou dearest friend on earth to me ! How oft I 've sighed, at twilight hour, To greet thee in this lovely bower ; • To clasp thy hand, thy joys to share. To know thy every grief and care; And in return, to tell thee mine. And find a pitying heart in thine ! THE BROTIIEKS. Yet oft I felt— I know not why, And then the tear would fill mine eye That in my griefs, my hopes, and fears, The partner of my early years Could have no share; — would not deride, I knew he would not frown nor chide; And yet, I knew his highest aim Had been to win a glorious name ; I knew that he had won the prize ; I knew the world's admiring eyes We. • n^ed on him — the brave and young; I kuew that fadeless laurels hung Around his proud and noble brow. I saw the great and haughty bow Unto the conqueror, as he came With trophies won and bright with fame. I did not envy him ; ah, no ! And yet a bitter pang of woe Shot through my heart, and I have wept, When all- around have calmly slept, To think that he, my brother, friend, Would never from his height descend, To bend the knee, to breathe a prayer For me, when sinking with despair ; Nor with me, at the throne of grace, Plead for a wretched heathen race. But though I speak of grief and pain, Brother, think not my mission vain ; For I, unworthy as I am, Have pointed sinners to the Lamb. How great the boon I how sweet the thought » It is enough ; 't is all I sought. "Ten years ago, this very hour, ..Jiii3 zvrcij wuvvur ; 135 !■! im THE BIlOTHEllS. ^en life was young, the future bright. Brother, how do we meet to-night ? Then hope thy bounding bosom thrilled; U ! hast thou seen thy hopes fulfilled? " " Yes, all ; for I have won a name Laurels are mine, and deathless fame. I Ve stood upon the battle-field With gory sword and broken shield; I 've heard the cannon's deafening roar; I 've seen the crimson torrents pour ; I 've felt my own life-blood to start,' And agony has wrung my heart ; Yet on, still onward, I have pressed, With ndiing eye and dauntless breast ; i^or glory beckoned from afar. And glory was my guiding star. Through toil and hardships I have past, i5ut I have won the prize at last ; A rich reward I have obtaiDed. But what, dear brother, hast thou gained? Thy cheek is pale, thy form is bent. Thy youthful energies are spent ; And spent for what? for future ease? For fame, for wealth ? — ah, none of these ! " " 'Tis true, I've reached my native shore, A wreck of what I was before; I went in youth, I went in health. But did not go for fame or wealth. I 've won the prize I sought to win — Seen sinners saved from death and sin; And while the warrior's wreath is thiae, A crown of glory will be mine ! I know that on my pallid brow ^«v scrti ui uoavu 15 resting now; 137 THE BROTUEKS. But I can look beyond the gloom ihat hangs around the dreary tomb, And reamsofendless beauty see, Prepared through Jesus' blood for me. And when I reach the dismal tide, Ihe raging waters will divide : Jesus will safely guide me o'er 10 Canaan's fair and peaceful shore! 1 am not worthy of such bliss, ^otworthyofahcpelikethis; ^ut, through the merits of the Lamb, Wretched and sinful as I am I hope to reach the better land • 1 hope to join the blood-washed 'band ; And find the ransomed heathen there With whom, in lands beyond the sea, 1 ve often ent the suppliant knee. "What have I gained ? •- nor ease, nor fame • gckness and sorrow, want and shame, ' Have been my lot; yet of them all, ^ot one rude pang would I recall : ^or my Redeemer and my God :fc irst trod the path that I have trod : ^or me the crown of thorns he wore. :tor me the painful cross he bore, ^or me he died on Calvary's hill, ^or me, for me, he 's pleading still. My wants and sorrows have been few ±0 what my dear Redeemer knew : He s sympathized with every care In all my griefs he 's had a share/ On land ana on the billowy foam : And nnnr Ho nan4-\^^ ii i ■"" 5'- ""J »^ai5B iue noiiJie. 12# 138 THE BROTHERS. 1 1 ;il How bright that home - how sweet my rest - When on my Saviour's loving breast ^ This aching head shall find repose — Ihis weary heart forget its woes ! "What hast thou gained of earthly bliss, That ever can compare with this ? >\ hat hast thou gained ? -5- 0, brother, think • If now thou stood'st upon the brink Ut the eternal world, what power Lould cheer in such a trying hour ? Would laurel-wreaths dispel the gloom, Or gild the passage to the tomb ? Would all the honors earth bestows Kllth^' *T" ^'r* "' ^"^'^ thy'woes? Or will the glory thou hast won Obtain the blissful words, " W .11 done ' " And stand before the judgment-seat ? Ah ! we alike have toiled and fc^o-ht And we have won the prize we soiTght ; :But ask, dear brother, of thy heart, uia 1 not choose the better part? » He paused awhile, the tears fell fast : In trembling tones he spoke at last : Jirother, we parted years before: He soon shall part to meet no more We ne er again, at twilight hour. Shall stand within this lovely bower Our hearts may heave, our bosoms swell, But we 7mist say a last farewell, femce last we met, two cherished forms, Havetft'r^"' ^T ''''^'' '^^' «*o^s, Have left our home, have sunk to rest, Ine tiirr nnon no«V, i;:. It whispers in a tender strain, " 0, brother, shall we meet again ? " Forgotten now the sword and shield, — Forgotten now the battle-field ! The haughty chief has knelt in prayer, And love and penitence are there. The world recedes, and heaven appears, — Seraphic music greets his ears, And holy smiles play round his brow, As thus he breathes the sacred vow : " All that I loved I now resign ; — Wealth, fame and honor, once were mine, But now no more. Welcome the cross ! Compared with which all things are loss. The laurel-wreath, that glory twined Around my brow, I will unbind ; I '11 lay my sword and helmet down ; I '11 battle for a heavenly crown. To lands beyond the raging wave — Where my departed brother gave His youth, his energies, his all, Obedient to his Master's call — There I will go, — through Jesus' grace I '11 strive to fill my brother's place. Welcome, then, earthly grief and pain ! 0, brother, we shall meet again I " Years passed away ; where palm-trees wave Their branches o'er a lowly grave, A true and a devote ] band Of India's sons and daughters stand. With tearful cheek and pensive brow ; For they have lost their leader now ! Thftv bfind the kne^^ ♦hew hvAiflio a vwotrAf They raise their trembling voices there ; — I i THE BROTHERS. Faith gilds each tear that sorrow weeps. Beneath that mound the warrior sleeps , ^ar from his childhood'H peaceful home Far er the billows' watery foam, He calmly rests ; his race is run. The everlasting prize is won, Within the bright, the better land » 143 THE SURRENDER OF QUEBEC. The orb of day upon his pathway pressed, Beaming with splendor, toward the shining west ; Cast one long, lingering glance upon the scene ; Lit up the river and the forest green, Left his last rays upon the lordly dome. And deigned to smile upon the peasant's home ; Then, 'neath the western hills he sought repose, And sank to rest as calmly as he rose. Bright at the dawn of day, but brighter now, "When day had almost passed, and round her brow Hung the expiring beams of dazzling light, The certain presage of approaching night. Slowly his gorgeous train, like him, withdrew, Changing as they advanced in form and hue, Until one lovely tint of fairest dye Stole softly o'er the calm and cloudless sky ; Day, gently smiling, left her gleaming throne. And evening fair came forth, and reigned alone. The twinkling stars the azure vault adorned ; . Like glistening gems, a glorious crown they formed, And proudly sat in splendor pure and bright Upon the pale and pensive brow of night ; While in the midst of all, with tranquil mien. Mild Cynthia lent enchantment to the scene. h .J ^_I. ij sprciiuiu|^ pustures grccii uuu itiu', And lofty hills and waving forests, where THE SUBIlENDMl Or QUEBEC. I45 The human voice had never yet been heard, Or other sound, save when the depths were stirred By the loud screams of some lone" midnight bird But h,gh o'er all the lofty city rose, ^ Firm m its strength, sublime in its repose ; On every hand by nature fortiHed, And strongly built ; with air of conscious pride aTsLIT, f ''^'S'"^ "P"" *e scene below. And bade defiance to each lurking foe ; Confiding ,n its bulwarks firm and sure. It calmly slept and dreamed itself secure ! The river swept along; with surging roar WhUeTilt"';"*^ "" "■« ^oc^y'^^; Th» I 1,^ '"■°?'^' «'^P'"'sive bosom lay The twinkling orbs in beautiful array • ' And every pearly drop shone clear and bright Bathed in a flood of soft and silvery "fgh^^*' Scarcely a ripple stirred its quiet bri f ; For every sighing breeze was lulled to r4t And every sound was hushed on earth, ^dr And silence held supreme dominion theZ ' FrotTo^ l't:r thlron^h"- "^ ^"^"* ''«^^' Watched by tie TuV oTs^ff^^:; ^^TZ:'^ '' l^te^tinter:^^^^^^^^^^^^ Nor scorned to visit those of mean estSe * But blessed alike the lofty and the low ' Alike bade each forget their wei<.ht J'„„„ xue proud and wealthy drew aroSnd their teeast The curtains of repose," and sank to r^t;' 146 TUB SUBllENDEll OE QUliBEC. \ The pallid sons of want and hunger slept, And sorrow's sons forgot that they had wept. The night wore slowly on ; the dismal tower Had long since toiled the lonely midnight hour ; When a proud band, by daring impulse led, Approached the river with a cautious tread ; With kindling eye and with an eager air, Unmoored the boats that waited for them there ; In silence left the calm and peaceful shore, In sullen silence plied the hasty oar ; In silence passed adown the quiet stream, While ever and anon a pale moonbeam. Sad and reproachful, cast a hasty glance On polished dagger and on gleaming lance. The scene was mournful, and with magic art It acted strangely on each manly heart ; — No speedy action now, no rude alarm, Called forth their powers, or nerved the stalwart arm. No present danger used its strong control. To rouse the passions of the warrior's soul ; But all conspired to place thought on her throne, And yield the reins of power to her alone ! The past came slowly forth with all its train Of blissful scenes that ne'er might be again ; Of mournful partings and convulsive sighs ; Of pallid faces, and of tearful eyes ; Of achiLg hearts that heaved with swrrow's swell, And broken tones that sadly breathed, " Farewell ! " And in the silence of that lonely hour, Which bade the sternest own its wondrous power,. A small, still voice whisperod in everv soul. Although each sought to* burst from its control : ( I I F THE SUIUIENDEII OF QUEBEC. 147 May shed her beams upon your death-sealed brow ' Tn^l ^ ' P^'/'^^"^^' ^^y fill a soldier's grave • To-ruorrow night your spirit may explore ^ ' The boundless regions of an unknown shore ' His fearless sp.nt unto sorrow's sway, Or dread the issue of the coming day The momentary sadno ■ now was o'er As with new hopes they neared the frowning shore Landed in silence, and, in stern array. ^ "' Pressed firmly forward on their dangerous way S > IM''' "' ' ""^' ''''^ footfteps sC^' And left the m„, curing river far below. From cliff to cliff the gallant army spring Nor envy now the eagle's soaring wing f They view their labors o'er, their obje!t gain. And proudly stand upon the lovely plainf Gaze down upon the awful scenes they 've passed Rejoicing that they've reached the heights at Tast W^ ^^m! T"^ '^"^ *"'J fi'"^ <""•'' malily breast n hT ""'? f''r '""^ "'Pirations rest; ^ ' it bids each doubt and every shadow flee And points them on to certain victory ! ' Wpli n«~"r" ° ■■""T'* ' '"^ o"^»* Yearns of light ■tell on a strange and a romantic sight,— ^ 148 THE SURRENDER OF QUEBEC. On glistening helmet and on nodding crest, On Waving banner and on steel-clad breast. The city woke, — but woke to hear the cry, " To arms ! to arms ! the foe — the foe is nigh ! " She woke to hear the trumpet's wild alarms — She woke to hear the sound of clashing arms — She woke to view her confidence removed — She woke to view ^ler trusted safety proved ; Her mighty bulwarks, long her'pride and boast, All safely mounted by a British host — She woke to view her lofty ramparts yield, Her plains converted to a battle-field, Her gallant troops in wild disorder fly. The British banner floating to the sky. And proudly waving o'er the bloody plain. O'er heaps of dying and o'er heaps of slain. • Boused from their hasty dreams, with brows aghast, On every hand the soldiers gather fast. Bind on their armor, seize the glittering sword, Form in a line, and, at a simple word. With hurried steps advance toward the shore, With hasty gestures grasp the trembling oar, Across the river's bosom swiftly glide. And safely land upon the other side. Drawn up in battle order now they stand. Waiting in silence for their chief's command ; Then onward move, with firm and stately tread, With waving plumes and ensigns proudly spread, With gleaming sword and with uplifted lance. Where brightly now the glistening sunbeams dance ; But long before those sunbeams shall decline Streams of dark blood shall tarnish all their shine; Those beams shall strive to gild the steel in vain, For human gore the polished steel shall stain I THE SURRKNDER OF QUEBEC. 149 i!" aghast, id, mce; line; in, rrli^Tu- T'^ ^^^''' ^^^^ '"°^» > ^'th ardent glow He shed his beamr alike o'er friend and foe. ^ His golden hues the spreading fields adorn, Waving m beauty with the ripening corn : G^ive richer colors to the lofty trees? Ihat gently rustle in the morning breeze ; They gild the river's surface, calm and blue, And shine reflected in the sparkling dew. • P, ye, who stand prepared for deadly strife, Thirstin:: for blood and for a brother's life. -Behold the glories that around you lie, Ihe harmony pervading earth and sky ! Behold tbe wondrous skill and power displayed In every leaf and every lowly blade : On every hand behold the wondrous love wu i!"', '"i"^ ^^^'S"' ^" "^^i^«ty above,— Who bids for man all nature sweetly smile, And sends his rain upon the just and vile; His attribute is love; and shall ye dare lo take the life mercy and love would spare ? bhall ye destroy what he has formed to live And take away what ye can never give ? bhall puny mortal claim the right his own ^elonging to Omnipotence alone ? Rash man, forbear ! and stay the ready dart That seeks to lodge within thy brother's heart. i3ut, no ; tor mercy's voice, now hushed and still. No longer may the steel-clad bosom thrill ; And hearts that melted once at others' woe — Ihat kindled once with friendship's fervent glow - That once had felt and owned the soothing power Of tender love — are callous in the hour When savage A/ar makes bare his awful arm. ii.nu ^.eais lu tiiunder tones his dread alarm ' 13# IT ^:. "UJlKiMIl 150 THE SURRENDER OF QUEBEC. But there were S07ne in those devoted bands O'er whom the blissful scenes of other lands Came rushing wildly ; and, with piercing gaze, They looked an instant on their boyhood's days; Keraembered well the hours that flew too fast ; Remembered some with whom those hours were past ; And, 'mid the group of dear companions gay, Remembered well some whom they saw that day ; But sprang not forward, with familiar grasp And friendly air, the proifered hand to clasp ; But looked away, and, with a pang of pain, Regretted that they e'er Lad met again ! For now they met, not as they met before — Not as they used to meet in days of yore ; Not arm in arm, like brothers fondly tried, Whom they could trust, and in whose love confide ; Met not as once, with high and mutual aim, In classic halls to seek for future fame ; But met as bitter foes, in deadly strife. Each wildly panting for the other's life ; With armies proud and swelling like the lood, To wreath their laurels in each other's blood ! They once were friends ; but France and England rose In sounding arms, and they are hostile foes ! They once were friends ; but friendship may not shield The warrior's breast upon the battle-field ! They once were friends ; but, hark ! the cannon's roar Loudly proclaims that they are frionds no more ! From rank to rank the stunning volley flies. From rank to rank the groans of anguish rise ; Rank after rank is numbered with the slain ; Rank follows rank, and bleeds upon the plain. TJ rnxToliT ,Vi- U_i.„J 1 In human gore they dipped the shining steel ; 3: 3 past ; ay; fide; and rose >t shield I's roar 3! THE SURRENDEll OF QTJEnKC. 151 Pressed o'er the heaps of dying and of dead &frm r^r^^.^' ^"^ ^a^ant heroes bled; VVhile from their lips, m quick and stifled breath Arose the ery of - Victory, or death !" ' Louder and louder still the awful roar The vol eyed thunder shook the depth" bo"ow' Monntam and echoing forest joincd^he ery ' And distant h,lls gave baek the same reply With animating voiee and waving Imnd ^ ^ vlff^ \'''f' "^'^'^ ^'^ gSlant band, Preyed firmly forward where one endless tMe Of woe and carnage roigned on every side - Where streams of blood in crimson torrente rolled Where death smote down alike the young and ow'~ And where the thickest poured the deadly shot ' Ihe gallant Wolpe with daring valor fought The dead and oying in his pathway lie. Before h,m ranks divide and squadrons Z ; With stalwart arm, and with unerring aim He adds new glories to his former fale Heaps the reward of all his toil ; for no'w Fresh laurels twine around his youthful brow But what aval they ? for the fatal dart Of death has lodged within that hoping hear' ' The lof^ head, that wore the wavin. crest " Now sadly droops upon the bleedinXal'- Fait ri"!'^/™' "P™'^^'' '» P^'^-'r andpride Falls feebly down, and oasts its sword aside Th_e laurel wreath entwines that brow in vai^. -^ V*, iu ; me nero iies among the slain ! 152 THE SURRENDER OF QUEBEC. Wkh'i!!r'^ ^'"^^* ^°".S' ^^^'^ ^°"^^g« a»ful held Fell feebly back; the noble soul had fled. O, gallant Wolfe ! from o'er the dark blue sea There comes a wail -a bitter wail for thee Thy country mourns her warrior, true and^'rave But „^nT"'« '"'^ "''P' "''' ">y lowly grave. ' But nothing now may break thy tranquil rest No h.„g d,sturb thy calm and q^uiet ^ZT Nor clash.ng arms, nor cannon's deafening roar Nor sorrow's wail, may ever rouse thee mir ' ?h?li T^r^u^ ^''^'"'' ^" '"'"'«' t'-an them aT Shall bid thee rise, thou must obey the cat And stand, bereft of earthly pride and power Before thy Judge. God shield thee in thalhour ! Remoter from the scene, with drooping head And nerveless arm, another warrior bled! ^eahs seal upon that pallid brow was pressed • B^f ',F ^"^ '7 "" *'"'' ''«^^i''g breast; ' TootTr^'' ° • T'^'fy '«■>' noloothing'balm To cheer the spirit of the proud Montcalm He ived to see his bravest followers die ; " He 1 ved to see his troops disbanded fly; A^d r,r ^'-^ '" !'^"' ''"' welcomed death, t .T 5 f.™'^ '■^^'g"^'! his floetiuK breath • Stretched his proud limbs, without a!igh or ' And Death had claimed the hero for h£ own ' T1,T^\^'''^* u"f ?'"' "•« •J'^adful combat past • The echoing hills had found repose at last- ' A J *-'" " """^ '-'^■"^ ^"» vvorK oil every side And even greedy Death was satisfied • ' 154 THE SURRENDER OF QUEBEC. The sun went down ; how changed from yester night ! How changed his aspect, and how changed the sight* On which he gazed ! Then his last golden beam 1 ell on a landscape fair — a quiet scene Where now destruction reared its standard dread O'er shattered bodies and o'er severed head. Heap upon heap the pallid victims lay, Of racking pain and scorching thirst the'prey ; In anguish rolled upon the bloody ground, And wider still they tore each gaping wound; In concert joined their agonizing < ries, Gnashed with their teeth and rolled their blood-shot eyes; With feeble groans they drew each painful breath, And racked with torments called aloud for death • Far o'er the field in wild confusion rose Piles of the ghastly dead - of friends and foes — In death stretched side by side, mangled and cold ; While over all the sulphurous war-clouds rolled, In dark, dense columns mounted up on high, Tainting the air, polluting all the sky. Quebec was won ; and o'er each lofty tower The British banner streamed in pride and power • Where the French eagle once her wings had spread Ihe Uritish lion reared his haughty head, And shook the conquered country with his roar; The eagle flew in terror from the shore. With drooping plumage skimmed the western main And trembling, sought her native France again ; While England, proud and potent, took the sway And waved her sceptre over Canada. er night ! ihe sight t)cam Iread *y; blood-shot reath, Bath! bes — cold ; !ed, r ver; spread ar; main, in; THE OLD INDIAN. Thnf ?1*^S"' ^^^^ t^ose locks so erav That round thy furrowed temples pluy ?^ ^ Who art thou, with that faded cheek That clouded eve ?— finnot .. ' ^y^ ^— -speak, stranger, speak." " ^Jas : proud youth, these locks of min« ThTs f7 ^''! t'^'' ^'' '^'^ thine, This furroTv^^d brow was once as fair As the bright hopes that rested thore • As the first beams of morning lilt • These almost sightless orbs could^v J In lustre with the eagle's eye." Thv^rS''*^^ r^"' '°""^« hoarse and low ^y trembling hmbs too plainly show i hy earthly days are almost done ! " A^i^^^'-^^^^'^^et once this tone, ro„l^' '"^.f '"^^ ^^ *^^«« own, ' Could cause the stoutest form to ^tart And strike its terrors to the heart, ' When loud upon the midnight stil The war-whoop rose from den .n^ k;ii xais ieebie form has often been" "'* Ihe foremost in the battle's din • r i«IN 150 Tin-: OLD INDIAN. This trembling hand could bravely wield The bow upon the battle-field ; But all those youthful days have past, And I, like them, am fleeing fast." " Stranger, pray tell me what your name, And what the race from whence you came ; And why you wander here alone, So aged and so feeble grown." " Proud youth, my name would cause thy heart In throbbings wild and high to start ; For oft thy fathers thou iiast heard Breathe forth that deeply hated word ; Fall often thou hast heard them speak, With kindling eye and glowing cheek, Of one who swore in childhood's days At midnight, 'neath the moon's pale rays, On bended knee, with upraised hand. While round him stood a swarthy band That, till the lamp of life grew dim, And age should make a wreck of him. Or death itself should lay him low, He 'd show no mercy to his foe ; But joyfully listen to his moans, Find music in the white man's groans ; No trophies, save the white man's head. No joy, save when the white man bled ; And no revenge, for wrongs he bore. Save hands dipped in the white man's gore ! " And faithfully he kept the vow Breathed forth upon the mountain's brow, Till far around he won the name, The chief of blood, — the chief of flame ! — wiold ist, ur name, u came ; luse thy heart t; rd; lak, ys — rays, ind — !m. is; 3ad, ^d • 's gore ! brow, lame ! — THB OLD INDUN. What is my race? Ask of the wood Where once my little wigwam stood, But now, where lofty cities rise And point their turret! to the skies. What IS my race? Ask of the sod Which drank a father's flowing blood; Ask of the graves that wrap the cTaj And 1 • ^"'' ""^''^ '' "^y race, And where is now their dwelling-pkce ! " My race was once, in ^.c-or and might. The strongest ,n the cha e or k,\t • ^ The proudest clan that « vv/ dre^. Ihe fatal bow, or arrow ihr.>w: But now, forgetful of tbei. ,jride, They ve cast those fatal bows aside, And serpent^ m their folds embrace The ashes of that fallen race ! ^y *'u^?; f ^ o^^er tribes before. First hailed the white man to this shore; They gave to him the friendly hand; ' Thev IZl .-"^ rr'' '° '^^' «^» ^and; Ihey gave hiir. liberty to take Wilin r'*i''' T^'^ ^'^ ^^-^"^ *^«ir lake; Knf] aI ^''''^' save him a place. And loved him as their own dark race ! A \ ^"n '?°? *^® ^^"g^*3^ white man rose And called the Indian his foes ; ' He burned their wigwams to the ground Scattered the ashes far .round • He slew their mothers, and their wives, Theirjhildren, dearer than their lives;' ^^;. wxiuru meir nappy homes once stood Were scenes of murder and of blood — 14 * 167 f ■i J». 15a THE OLD INDIAN. While everywhere arose the cry, Wafted from Indian lips on high, ♦ Revenge, revenge ! ' and all that heaid Would echo back that frightful word. " But now each thrilling voice is still — The war-whoop hushed upon the hill ; For those who burned for vengeance then Now moulder in the silent glen ; And proudly now the white man treads Upon the soil above their heads. That noble race have passed away, And one by one mixed with the clay, Till I the last of all am left, Of brother, friend and home bereft ; And soon my pilgrimage will close, And the poor Indian find repose. " Thou askest why I wander here, No friend and no companion near ; — But ask the dove why yet she clings, With weary head and drooping wings, Unto her fallen partner's side, And loves him still, although he died ; Or, ask her why, when far removed From the dear home she fondly loved. Where she has reared her tender young. Round which her yearning heart has clung - Why when released she quickly flies With steadfast wing and e?vger eyes, Until she gain that lovely spot, Her native home, her o\\ a dove-cot ; — Then may ye know why I have come From regions toward the setting sun ! — It is to tread jnce more the sod Which I in youth have lightly trod .' TUE OLD INDIAN. 159 It is to seek once more to find Whirr 'Tl!"^'^ "" "^y '"ind, It IS to drop the sacred tear, To love and to affection dear - rho tear which memory ever craves- Upon mj fathers' lowly graves Where father, mother, brother sleeo- Where sisters lie, dear as my life '^ And she my fair and faithful wife Dearer than all the world beside ' Who by the white man's weapon died- And ohldren, twined around my hmt With t,es that death couW r^ver p^t It IS to gaze upon this pis. .,^''''' ?„7,"> ^f i-g of mS race. And then to lay ray weary heid Upon the ashes of the dead - B^sip my soul, without a sigh, To that great God who rules on high And make complete the fallen race That slumbers in this narrow place ' " And as he spoke, his cheek gW!,ale~ His trembling voice began tol^r ^ ' His eye grew dim, his lips compressed His hoary head drooped o'er his S- And there he slept in death's emba^f:. The last one of his noble race ! I! THE HUSBAND^S LAMENT. Yes, thou art lovely still ! and yet so calm, So pale, so cold, I shudder as I gaze. Yes, thou art lovely still; but, 0, how changed! Thy lips are silent ; and the beaming eye. In which I once could read thy gentle thoughts, Is frozen o'er with death. And is this all That 's left of one I loved, and loved so well? Is this the hand, so cold and deathlike grown, I 've often clasped, once warm with life and love ? Is that the brow I oft have crowned with flowers? Are those the lips that ever spoke to bless ? 0, Death ! could'st thou not choose one less beloved, And one less loving — one less fair and good — That thus thou takest all I loved on earth ? Others have friends ; but I — / had but one ; But one to weep when o'er my troubled soul The billows of despair rolled huge and dark ; But one to whisper words of peace and hope ; But one to soothe the raging storm to rest. That one is now no ore — gone, gone, for aye — And I am left alone. Alone — alone ! O, how that word falls on my bursting heart ! The wide, wide world is all before me now, But not a friend — not one to weep for me. Then, welcome death i — with heart ail bared I hail the fatal dart ! B\it, ah, death never comes THE HUSBAND'S LAMENT. 161 When most desired ! The onlv nn« t i j Unto a world of light and endlel Wit ^^''' The Jntle heartf Jhl\ Ve:v!d i^t'r™:^ " And what a thoueht' for mv 7 ""^ ^^''^~ Is bounding high with Z7J '^"?'" ^'^''^~ And while^I bt^ZiV^ylC '"'"' '■ And press the lips that give no . !!' f "V"" «•-« bu^rning ,aTon°h" pale^er' Onhine own Son.l".^ JoltSTw^t Safe in th^/oi'o-nToTtl^'&llt::^ «3'- ?:st"„:t;^:^:^:if.^'?-»:?^h^here. ihe storm ma> ™|e withia-thT/S ^f S, 162 THE HUSBAND S LAMENT. But never harm tHee more. 0, as I gaze Upon thee now, and know that thou art blest, I half forget my own despair and woe. And half rejoice to think that thou art gone ! — Rejoice a moment ; but the next I weep. Where shall I turn, or whither shall I flee ? Despair has chained me fast. Yes, thou art blest, But I am wretched. Can I give thee up ? What ! see thee laid within the silent tomb. To moulder there ? and hear the cold, damp earth Thrown on thy cofl5in-lid ? and know that thou Art mingling with the dust, my love, my all? — The thought is agony — it cannot be ! The future ! O, the future ! dark and drear, As when the thunder-clouds loom o'er the sky, And shed their burden on the midnight air Of hail and tempest. Thus 't will ever be ; And such the past had been, but for one star. That o'er the dark horizon brightly rose. And with her radiant light dispersed the clouds, And rolled away the darkness and the gloom. That star has set — forever set on earth ; But shines immortal in the diadem That Clowns our Saviour's brow ! And now I gaze In all the darkness round for one bright beam ; But gaze in vain. As in a dungeon bound, Light, hope, and love, shut out tbrevermore, So stand I here ; and so my path must be Where sun, nor moon, nor star, can ever shine ! I ^1 I u And yet her cold, her clay-cold form is here. Sad comforter indeed ! But comes the hour When this last solace will be borne away. And borne away forever to the tomb ! When yonder sun shall seek his western home Behind the hills where we have often strayed, THE HCSBAND'a tAMENI. 163 mat pallid face still beautiful in death, Will be forevo. hidden from my gaze; And I shall stand within this quitt room Alone ! Or if I seek the murn^uring st"am fl r,r ''»^«''f?n- there I shall' stand alone • Or .n the open fields, when night eomes on " W th ^-w'^T'' ''"f^right the ether glows Anf .Kf -T.' V- T '" fr"" *•''« throne of God Th!i { *^at once was music to thine ear — Y^Z f " n'""'' "'""^ •' «• bitter thought ' Years may roll on, and yet we meet no more Years may roll on, but memory will prortree- Too true; for she will rack my buminrbrair And she will pierce my bleeding healith darts That t,me can never draw; for^she will speafc ^• At morn at noon, at eve, of days gone bv • And ,n the dreary watches of the night, ^ ' When others sleep, in thunder tones she -11 sneak The name I loved -and all the past will come Tossed like a bark upon the roaring deep W.1 heave and plunge adown the dark ^byss, Anu, buried m the waters of despair, ^ Will he a hopeless wreck. I see thee here. Cold, pale, and s.lent ; and the deadly bro^, Th! TTf f'^^' "" '"" "° ofthe grave - 1 he dark, dark grave, where thou so Son must ba < And then emotions wild and fearful sween " Across my bosom -and, beneath the bla^t. ^, ii»„ a uruseu iued, bend, and 1 fall And when I see thee as thou wast, my friend. I'll .ur of woo, Ha?5 m«rraar.' ji ^t thy i ealings ! — they are Just And in thy w.dmu mercy, and thy love, Thou hast affliciUu i' . and ►>orne away The idol I had r^uutd, jjtsd in thy stead Placed in mj hensrt I Foi give me, 0, forgive, That 1 in serrow'y hour ahould thus forget The only source of comfort and of peace ! And henceforth, Father, may my guilty soul, Washed m the atoning blood of thy dear Son, Place all its trust in thee, and thee alone ! And when tbe summons come, and I too sleep, (trant me a home and an eternal rest In the bright world of everlasting bliss. Where my beloved folds her shining wings ! And when the morn, the long-expected morn, Shall dawn in glory, and the saints shall rise From their dark icy beds, then may I too. With this cold form I now resign to earth. Come forth immortal, and with her ascend To hail thee as my Saviour, and my King ! m- re, rt, 5u! like thine. •ower ; again! brg^ve ^» re iast ; » »» give, oul, Son, I sleep, orD, rise 0, 1>. id THE CONTRAST. And oft from Xrln? fu** '" 8'°""" >' For SuCeStr,^''.:: S^ ^-'"^ "^ '<'« The storm grew still darker, and darker »K. u And aow„.:sx:-p-t^^^^^^^^ 160 THE CONTRAST. I :! i A bright, happy group were gathering fast, With smiles and gay sallies of mirth. The tempest might howl and the elements roar — To that group they could bring no alarm ; ^ For a charm spread its magical wand them o er, And wealth, boundless wealth, was that charm ! But, hark ! as the winds in their fury arise, A voice is heard to implore, With bitter— ay, bitter and heart-rendmg cries, T'hat the rich man may open his door. " O, chill blows the blast o'er my shivering form, And floods or my weary head pour ! O, give me . shelter, a shield from the storm; Take pity, and open your door ! " « What seek you? " the lordly man sternly replied, While a frown hung his haughty brow o'er ; But still the same voice of deep agony cried, «« Take pity, and open your door ! " 0, give me, 0, give me a shelter to-night. For my heart is full weary and sore ; ^ And the storm rages fiercely around me to-mght— Show mercy, and open the door ! " The rich man gazed coldly upon her pale brow, And features so mournful and fair ; , ^. » Then muttering, " My roof shelters not such as thou. He left the petitioner there. Still wilder and wilder the tempest now grew, The aspect more threatening high ; _ But over "them all — though the winds louaiy m&w — There arose one heart-piercing cry. THE CONTRAST. 187 The rich man returned, with self-satisfied air, 10 his seat by the fire once more; And the poor, homeless wanderer, breathing a prayer. Turned away from the rich man's door. ^^ ' ^%\rTf ' ^"^ *^^ «^^*^ anniversary came Vt that day of anguish so sore. When the wanderer, fainting and drenched with the ram. Was spurned from the rich man's door. The day was as stormy and cloudy as then — *or the wind and the rain no repose; iiut from a sweet cottage adown in the glen A song of thanksgiving arose. By the fire, that blazed so brightly and high. Sat a man m his youthful pride. With a noble brow and a dark beaming eye. And a dearly loved one by his side. And truly his fond manly bosom was blessed. As he gazed on that cherished one's charms. And then with a father's devotion caressed Ihe sweet infant that played in her arms. The tempests might howl and the elements roar— lo that group they could bring no alarm ; *or a charm spread its magical wand them o'er, And love, boundless love, was that charm! But, hark .'while the rain in floods is descending. And loudly the howling winds roar, A voice is heard with the elements blending : " Take pity, and open your door ! " ^A ^^ ^^^^^ *^® ^^^^ °" ^y shivering form, And cold blows tue blast o'er the moor ! F" -i -M 168 lUJi CONTRAST. O, give in3 a shelter, a shield from the storm ; Show Di( rcy, and open your door ! " With pitying he . paspionate eye. More tender lud bright than before, The young marj arose, as he listed the cry, And hastily opened the door. " Thrice welcome, thou stranf p , :« ot.^ j Dwiy home ! 'T wiU shield thee at least from the storm ; " And he led in a wanderer wretched and lone, Wittt trembling and ill-clad form. Witl a prayer on her lips of grateful devotion, A prayer such as angels admire. The wiit) welcomed him with heartfelt emotion, And gave liim her seat by the fire. The stranger grew paler as he beiield her, And tears rolled his furrowed cheeks o'er ; "Tint face ! hat face ! ah ! too well I remember, She was spurood from the rich man's door I " X1 THE MINSTREL'S S0N6. And gjlds the summit of the ^11 ' J£M, O, bow calm, ht fair and still Thl 2*^^^"^ * ^y *°<^ thoughtless bov The future hope, the present joy, He river's banks I roamed aloni ^n my ]ps the happy song r^' J^i every ower, m every tree .' Jomehowmu.ealeachtone! Mv t 1/ ,¥^ communion sweet ; Tn a,vj "J' "*"^» my spir ared io God, and worshipped and adored. And?;ttj?i^ of innoceuce and bliss! And art thou brought at last to this ? T^at every tree and every flower Seems to posses, some secret nn«.. 10 c 170 i THE MINSTIIEI/S BONO. And every soft and gentle breeze That sighs among the fragrant trees Whispers, ' Beware ! beware ! thy patH Leads to eternal woo and wrath ! ' O, child of Wins ! and can it bo That I, the V ie and vile, am he ? "The past, the past, could tears recall, O, how the burning rain would fall ! Conld drops of blood wash out the stain, And make mc innocent again, How freely would the life-stream pour! — But, no, — 't is useless, — all is o'er ! Farewell, then, hope ! welcome despair. What should I fear to do or dare? — Wake, Minstrel, wake the slumbering lyre. If thou canst quench the raging fire That burns ray heart." The Minstrel came, With hoary locks and stooping frame. " Beneath the cool and grateful shade, Where soft the breezes blow. With beaming eye and noble mien, A stranger form was often seen, A long time ago ! "To him the earth was dark and drear; And doomed to want and woe, Without a shelter or a home. That lonely stranger used to roam, A long time ago ! «» B^viled and hated by the world, On every hand a foe. He passed along with smiling face, A long time ago ! THE MINSTREL'd 80N(I. 17X ••The poor and needy, filled with grief No human heart might know, With tearful eye pressed to liis side, And found there every want supplied, A long time ago ! " ^ WL?'.^^ *^** mourned o'er deeds of iniilt. While burning tears would flow. And looked with anguish on the past, In him found sweet repose at last, A long time ago ! " And some — their parents' hope and prido, Jiut now their parents' woe Gazed on the stranger's loving face, Rushed to the stranger's fond embrace, A long time ago ! "He died — the gentle stranger died A death of shame and woe • But in that hour of pain and grief • Forgave the wretched, dying thief, A long time ago ! " ^ wl^.,*° *^® °^°^' — *^e c"»el cross, ^ While shouts arose below : ♦Forgive them, O, forgive ! ' he cried. Ihen bowed his aching head and died, A long time ago ! " Death held the stranger's ghastly form But held a mortal foe ; ' For soon he left the scer.e of gloom, And rose triumphant o'er the tomb! A long time ago ! w V 172 THE minstrel's song. " He left tbe mountain's dazzling brow, Then tinged with heavenly glow ; While angels worshipped at his feet, At God's right hand he took his seat, A long time ago ! " He 's pleading now for sinful men — He knows their want and woe — As when he sadly wandered here, Wiping away each falling tear, A long time ago ! »« He loves the guilty sinner yet, As when he roamed below j He pities him as freely still As when he died on Calvary's hill, A long time ago ! " 0, wretched youth ! thy soul is dark ; Thou hast been long his foe ; But raise thine eyes, thy Saviour see j Remember that he died for thee, A long time ago ! " 'Thy sins are many ! ' — hark ! he crieb. As once he cried below, — * But wash away thy guilty stains, In blood for thee drawn from my veins, A long time ago ! ' " The Minstrel ceased. The youth had given One look of agony to heaven, And while the burning tears would flow. Blessed him who died so long ago. TWILIGHT MUSINGS, Tisthepeacefiil twilight hour- Let us haste to yonder bower, ' ^J the gently flowing stream, Lit up by the sun's last beam; Where the soft and balmy breeze Sighs among the waving trees, And the flowers of ev'ry hue, Crimson, yellow, white and blue, C ust«r round the fair retreat, Where we often used to meet, Ann m arm, at close of day, While the robin's cheerful lay Borne upon the evening air, -bchoed sweetly round us there. And our hearts beat warm and hiVh And the love-light in each eye ^ ' *ound repose within each breast. Happy days ! how bright and blest ' Bnghter now since paft and gone With our youth's delightful dawn : Dearer now since they have fled With the loved, the early dead In whose Horrow and whose care. In whose joys we used lo share. -Dear ones ! they have sunk to re«f • -iiicjr ure nappy, they are blest. '"' 15* •mmBmmmim I 174 I J \ I' r |i TWILIGHT MUSINGS. In the world of light above, In the world of peace and love ; And though sad and lonely here, Shall we shed for them a tear? No ; for they, with beaming brow, Round the throne of glory bow, Like the angels pure and free, Bright as they ! — 0, when shall we Share this homo and share this bliss, Far from such a world as this ? Now the lonely orb of night Sheds her soft and mellow light Over hill and over dell — Scenes that we have loved so well ; And the quiet evening star Gazes on us from afar, Just the same as years ago ; And the sleeping stream below. Silvered o'er with shining rays, Just as in our childhood's days ; And the island lulled to sleep Where the playful waters sweep ; And the distant mountain blue Piled with clouds of ev'ry hue ; And the forest, dark and green, Adding grandeur to the scene ; All remind us of the past — Of the hours that flew too fast, Of the hopes and of the fears That were ours in former years. True, those scenes have fled for aye ; Much we loved has passed away ; Many hopes we cherished then Moulder in the silent glen; TWIUQHT MUSING8. Many hearts that fondly beat With our own in concert sweet, Pulseless slumber in the tomb, Heedless of the dreary gloom ; • Other hearts, grown cold and changed. For long years have been estrange!; ' And we sigh but aigh in vain, ^ ' wl'\''.*f °^™ ^" ^^3^« of yore ~ J^ve which time can ne'er restore ! And yet, as we wander here. Mid the scenes to memory dear, And the 8hin:ng tear-drops fkll, Hay, would we the past recall ? aorrow may have m.xrked our brow :Kjarthly hopes have fled away — We have brighter hopes to-day ; We have learned what all must lean, Learned to weep above the urn ' Where our fondest joys lie low; Wealth, and honor, and a name M^f f'^'^'^^^'thfame. Are but shadows soon to flee : J^et, what matters it that we in our early youth have found Vanity in alliiround? better thus to learn so soon. *.re our sun has reached its noon, J ban to strive and straggle on For a phantom tilPt is ^ne; Better thus to raise our eyes m our VQMfk 4^ j^^ _,ji 176 176 TWILIGHT MU8IHGS. Turning thus from earth away To a world of endless day ; Fixing our best hopes above, Longing for the realms of love ; Knowing, even here below, That beyond this vale of woe There remains for us a rest In the mansions of the blest, Where the friends that parted here With a sigh and with a tear, With a smile that angels wear Shall embrace each other there, Never more to fear a change, Or know aught that will estrange ! May that blissful rest be ours ; Then through amaranthine bowerfl Pure and happy we will roam In our everlasting home ! ^i^ PASSING AWAY. Tii« flower that blooms so bnVht and fair And scents the sweet and bal^y ai" ' Is hastennig to decay ; ^ ' We mark awhile its gorgeous hues All decked in fine array • But ah! they wither in an hour Thejr, too, have passed tway! Friendship and love, with air divine The,r sacred tendrils closely twine Around the l,eart to-day ; But let tho frowns of fortune come. And ere to-morrow'B setting sun ' •iney, too, have passed away ! The truest and the dearest friend, fc '7« ""'J n«ver. never end. Bow,,tod..ut'iS,„lhiessswav: >Ve give ono 1oi.e, w,. la»l em»>"-i.^ he has passed away BBP MM 178 \ PASSINO AWAY. Then is there nothing firm and sure 7 O, is there nothinc to endure When earthly things decay ? Yes — Faith, with bright and beaming eye, Beholds celestial glories nigh, That ne'er can pass away ! Released from all her griefs and fears. She looks beyond this " vale of tears," To an eternal day ; And, with a smile of joy and love. She points to happiness above. Which ne'er will pass away ! On Pisgah's top she takes her stand, And there surveys the promised land. Where heavenly zephyrs play ; And in a firm and cheerful tone. She calls those blissful realms her own, Which ne'er can pass away ! She sees the monster Death restore The cherished forms she loved before. Now clad in bright array ; ^ i And, freed from ev'ry earthly stain. She greets those ransomed ones again, Who ne'er will pass away ! But, brightest far in that bright place, She views her Saviour's dazzhng face. Where smiles divinely play ; O'ercomc by love and by his charms, She rushes to his outstretched arms, Tk.T » _ _. i - 1. _ J. _ _„ „ ».^ «. I iSe Ct iAi iiii iUiil a»f»ij i V 11 PASSING AWAY. f^rtT *^° ^^'^'^"^ ^o^'^es Sing Jiternal praises to their Kine ^ Inanimmortallay: She joins the bright and holy thron^r w!7f' ^ith them the hea3yt)„,. Which ne'er will die awayT ^ ^ Then how can earth's deceitful smile Or lead his steps astray ? ^ ' A^/f L^'" '^^'^^ ^^-^"^ «arth afar, Which ne'er will fade awaj. A^da^rh^^,'*^'"^^^*^^^'^'^*^^ drear And all he loves or prizes here ' ^^^^,J^<^ening to decay; And death has passed away • 179 IffffB THE EXILE'S FAREWELL. Farewell to the scenes of my childhood ! A long and a lasting farewell ! Farewell to the " wide-spreading wildwood ! " Farewell to the mountain and dell ! Farewell to the home I have cherished With love and devotion so true ! All my hopes, my fond hopes, have perished ; Then farewell, my country, to you ! Farewell, 0, farewell, my dear mother ! Thy tears have affected my heart, And the sobs, that I gladly would smother, In painful succession will start. I leave thee, my mother, forever, — In far distant regions to dwell. To return to thy side again — never ; O, mother, dear mother, farewell ! Bear father, with yearning devotion My aching heart clings unto you, And heaves with a bitter emotion, As I bid you a lasting adieu ! I leave you — I leave our dear dwelling. The home I have long loved so well, And tear-drops to torrents are swelling ; O. futhnr. Amlv fathftr. fnrnwAU ! THE KXILK'S FARBWJiLL. Farewell, O, farewell, my dear brother! The scenes of our childhood are past • We shall never again meet each oth^,':. This fervent emb. .. is our last. I'he favorite haunts we selected. The forest, the hill and the dell, n I 'T ^h''^ *^°"« ^°d dejected : U, brother^ dear brother, farewell ! ®Tht'*'n' ?T ^'"'^ '' »^*r breaking. To bid all I love an adieu ; ^ And while all the others forsaking. O. must I, sweet sister, leave you ? Yes ; leave you with love that is yearning Too deep and too holy to tell ; ^ ^' The future will bring no returning; U, sister, dear sister, farewell 1 Hark ! hark ! the soft zephyrs are sighimr • They call me, they call me away? ^' V\^ould bid me no longer deliy f 0,^ blessings my father, my ii;ther~ For him you have guarded so well ; TnH^h'^'^'^^'^^^^^'^y brother! And then — forever farewell ! 16 . 181 THE ORPHAN. Thb utorm was loud ; a murky oloud O'erhuDg tho midnight sky, And rude the blast that wildly passed A lonely orphan by ; But ruder still the bitter thrill Of woe that rent his heart ; Darker his feurs, sadder the tears That evermore would start. " Bleak is the storm, and on my form Thv jjjads in fury beat; A raekifig pain torments my brain, A^'l mm these weary feet ; No i&Y t>f light illumes the night, And here, alas ! I roam, Where tempests howl and wild beasts growl ; 0, that I had a home ! . *♦ Full many a day has rolled away Since I have laid me down, To cease to weep, and fall asleep, Save on the cold, damp ground ; And many more may pass me o'er Ere I may cease to roam ; One year ago it was not so, — vov tuen i uuu a houic ! ud ssed n sts growl ; THE ORPHAN. ** Then on his child a father smiled And londly lu^ oarofsed • When F rrow came, o. hitter paiii. 1 leaned upon his breust ; In <^ort and soothing tone ; U, what a strange and dreary change — *or then I had a homo! " When evening gray shut out the ' > y. iiesido my mofftor's knee With simple air breathed 'the i er „ J*»^^nf other taught to me ; ' Nnf n !S- ^7"' °«fc o« the ground, Not on this cold, damp stone? But n my bed. love made instead — *oi then I had a home ! " The livelong day I spent in play Around our peaceful cot, Or plucked the flowers from blooming bowers. And to my mother brought. Then bliss and joy without alloy, And love around me shone j Ihen hope could rest within my breast— i^or then I had a home! " My father died, and by his side My darling mother sleeps ; And now their child in anguish wild Wanders around and weeps ' The pleasant cot my father bought A stranger calls his own ; With tearful face I left the place. AVi it vfiis uQi my iiume .' 188 MICROCOPY RESOLUTION TEST CHART (ANSI and ISO TEST CHART No. 2) 1.0 I.I 1.25 fiiUU 2.8 3.2 3.6 4.0 1.4 2.5 2.2 2.0 1.8 1.6 ^ x^PPLIED IIVMGE Inc 165J East Main Street Rochester, New York U609 (716) 482 - 0300 - Phone (716) 28B-5989 -Fox USA mmmmm. Mm 184 THE ORPHAN. " No home have I, no shelter nigh, And none my grief to share ; But I 've a Friend, to him I '11 bend, And he will grant my prayer. He '11 lend an ear, for he can hear. Though high his mighty throne : My steps he '11 guide, and he '11 provide The orphan with a home ! " Dark grows the sky, my lips are dry, And cold my aching brow ; Is this a dream ? — for, lo ! I seem To see my mother now ! Faint grows my breath, the arms of death Are surely round me thrown ; O, what a light breaks on my sight ! — There, there 's the orphan's home ! " With smiling face in death's embrace The orphan calmly slept ; He heard no more the tempest's roar ; No more the orphan wept. No longer pain might rack his brain, No longer might he roam ; The dearly loved he 'd met above. And found with them a home ! nd, r, rovide BEHOLD HOW HE LOVED US. dry, of death ;lit! — me!" race 'oar; ain, While on the cross the Saviour bleeds, While friend nor foe his anguish heeds : While many a taunt and bitter jeer ^reak harshly on his holy ear ; He prays,-what can that last prayer be?- U, wondrous love, he prays for me ! Deep anguish fills his troubled soul, ihe streams of blood in torrents roll • And louder railings now are heard; He breathes not one complaining word • ret, hark ! he prays,- what can it be ? — U, wondrous love, he prays for me ! He bows his head, the Saviour dies • Darkness o'erspreads the azure skies iioud thundeis shake the earth and air And earthquakes heave in horror there • Angels the act with wonder see ; ' 0, matchless love, he dies for m'e ! He leaves the dark and gloomy grave, While angel pinions round him wave, And, rising from the mountain's brow ■ He kneels before his Father now ; ' lie pleads, —what can those pleadingrs be?— U, deathless love, he pleads for me ! 16* mrf ■fi il 186 BEHOLD now HE LOVED US. And can I then such scenes hehold, And still be careless, stiii be cold ? Can I, with air of sinful pride, Cast such unbounded love aside ? My soul, 0, can it, can it be ? Has Jesus died in vain for thee ? O, no ! the crimson streams that glide From Calvary's deeply blood-stained side, Invite my soul, so stained with sin, To wash away its guilt therein ; And in those precious drops I see Christ has not died in vain for me ! The Saviour pleads, in thrilling tone, Before his mighty Father's throne, That for his ^ake my guilty name Within the book of life may claim A place. He smiles ; and now I see Christ does not plead in vain for me ! Amazing love ! what tongue can tell The wondrous depths that in thee dwell ? What angel's mind can e'er explore The riches of thy boundless store ? 0, matchless love beyond degree, — Christ bled, he died, and pleads for r/ie ! EARTH NOT THE CHRISTIAN'S HOME. &' ""'f '" H ^''^ ^"d sorrow, ^t^I ^^^"S^" 0" to-morrow ; With hy woe and with thy parting, Wi h hy tears of anguish starting. With ill r"f ««« I;^-rt.strings breaking, With thy loved and lost forsaking, ^' With th^ fam,3hed millions sighink ^ith thy scenes of dead and dyinf. With thy graveyards without number, Earth, 0, earth ! thus dark and dreamy, Cold and sad, and worn, and weary. Inou art not my hoir 3 ! Earth 0, earth ! with all thy slaughter, And thy streams of blood like watl ' Oer the field of battle gushing, Where the mighty armies rushing Reckless of all human feeling, With the war trump loudly pealing, And the gallant banners flying Trample on the dead and dying • Where the foe, the friend, the brother, Bathed m blood sleep by each other; ^fl^„?^!^^^^'*K"«<^^rk and gory, "' mT^ """* ''^'^^^ ^'^^^ ^P thy storr, Ihou art not my home ! m 188 EARTH NOT THE CHRISTIAN'S HOME. Earth, with all thy scenes of anguish, Where the poor and starving languish, To the proud oppressor bending, And their cries for mercy blending ; Where the slave with bosom swelling, Which despair has made its dwelling, And the scalding tea -drops falling — Sight to human hearts appalling — Strives, but strives in vain to sever Fetters that must bind hira ever ; Earth, 0, earth ! with each possession Sold to tyrants and oppression, Thou art not my home ! Earth, 0, earth ! thy brightest treasures. Like thy hopes and like thy pleasures. Wintry winds are daily blighting ; Pain, and woe, and death uniting. Youth and love and beauty crushing. And the sweetest voices hushing ; Rich and poor, and old and blooming. To one common mansion dooming ; While the cries of every nation Mingle with those of creation ; Earth, 0, earth ! thus dark and dreary. Cold, and sad, and worn, and weary, Thou art not my home ! Earth, 0, earth ! though dark and gory. In thy pristine state of glory. Angels came upon thee gazing. Songs of love and rapture raising ; For thou then wast bright and beaming. With the sunlight on thee streaming. With thy crystal waters laving Shores with fadeless forests waving; HOME. uish, »uish, >g; Ihng, ling, ^g — er sssion easures, sures, > ing» Qing, Ireary, d gory, ammg, tng, >g; 1SARTH NOT THE CHRISTUN's HOMB. With thy plains and with thy mountains With thy ever-gushing fountains;- ' i^ alien, fallen, and so lowly ; Thou art not my home ! N\2l f ' /«^ there comes a morrow : Night and clouds, and gloom dispersing And thyself O, earth, Lmersin? '^' 4" ^ flood of light undyin.. ; When the curse upon thee'' lying, With Its thousand woes attending ) Death, and paiii, and bosoms reiSin^ ■ partings that the heart-strings sever y^l^ Rebanished, and fbrev^, 1 ' \, Earth, earth ! renewed in glory Love and joy make up thy story ; O, be thou my home ♦ Earth, although thou seemest forsaken, Y eta liote of praise a waken: For the angels, lowly bending Kound the throne of light unending, Gaze upon thee, sad and groaning ^ Listen to thy bitter moaning : ^ Ihou hast scenes to them amazing, n^f,«° C!a vary's mountain gazing • And they smile on every natiof ^ ' Purchased with so great salvation, - ^arth, 0, earth ! renewed in gbrv Angels shall rehearse thy story • 0, be thou my home ! * Earth, the morn will And thy Saviour willrestor^elhee ,• 189 190 BARTH NOT THE CHRISTIAN'S HOME. Far more bright and far more blooming, And more glorious robes assuming, Than when first, o'er Eden ringing, Angel voices were heard singing ; For thy King himself descending, Heaven and earth together blending. With his saints a countless number, Those who live and those who slumber, Over thee will reign victorious, — Earth, 0, earth ! thus bright and glorioui Be thou then my home ! > HOME. looming, mg, )er, umber, I glorious (< THE SERVANT IS NOT ABOVE HIS MASTER/^ ^ Lonely pilgrim, art thou sinking Neath the weight of grief and care ? Bitter dregs of sorrow drinking ^ From the cup of dark despair? Mourn not, for thy Master/footsteps The same gloomj paths have trod • He has drained the /up of anguish !! He, the mighty Son of God! Bo^ gaunt poverty surround thee. With Its pale and meagre train? Do they gather closely round thee. Mourn not, for the chilly dew-drons Fell upon thy MasterC bed; ^ Mourn not for the Prince of Glory Had not where to lay his head • Are thy kindred lowly lying In the cold and silent tomb. Heedless of thy plaintive sighing ■KTn^rf^ M ^ *^^ S"^^ and glofi ? Know thy Master's tears descended ^^ Where a dearly-loved one s W ^uKnows well thy weight of sorrow • Murmur not, for Jesus wept ' iiiit'i'ririti 192 THE SERVANT NOT ABOVE UI3 MASTER. Do the friends that once caressed thee Pass thee by with frowning brow ? Has the friendship that once blessed thee Changed to bitter hatred now ? "Weep not, for thy Master's brethren In his sorrow turned aside, Scorned to own that once they loved him ; Weep not, — Jesus was denied ! Does a scoffing world deride thee, And expose to scorn and shame? Do thy foes rise up beside thee, Blast thy character and name ? Know thy Master was derided, Scorned in Pilate's judgment-hall. Mourn not ; Christ, the great Redeemer, Was despised and loathed by all. Art thou torn with grief and anguish ? Racked with many a burning pain ? Does thy weary body languish ? Fearful pangs torment thy brain ? Murmuf not ; from Calvary's mountain List thy Master's dying groan ! Murmur not ; thy great Redeemer Gave his life to save thine own ! Does the monster Death look dreary ? Fill thy mind with fears and gloom ? Does thy spirit, faint and weary. Shrink in terror from the tomb ? Know thy Master 's gone before thee, Crossed the dark and narrow tide. Disarmed Death of all his terrors. Then fear not — thy Saviour died ! [S MASTER. sssed thee ig brow ? blessed thee low? )rethren y loved him ; enied ! thee, hame ? ee, ime ? d, Jnt-hall. fc Redeemer, by all. anguish ? ing pain ? h? brain ? 3 mountain oan! Bemer own! dreary ? nd gloom ? iry, omb? ore thee, 3W tide, •rors. ur died ! TUK SERVANT NOT ABOVE Hrs MA9TM. Ves, he died, _ the Prince of Glorv - Died upon the cursed tree ;^' Wgnm spread the joyful story ; _ Jesus d,ed, and died for thee ! And he rose, -he rose triumphant — W>'" ''«'.''»•«'« of death in twain lonely p.igrim, that same Jesus Will return to earth again ! See the first faint beams of mornin. Pilgnm, itisbroalcofday- Lot i '-■'.Pi'^r';'™' ^'^P "» longer! Let thy glad Hosanna rin.r < Jesus eomes in power and gfo^ ; Hail thy Saviour and thy King. 193 TO A MOTHER ON TFIE DEATH OF UER CHILD. Mother, thy loved one slumbers now In deep, unbroken rest ; But slunnbers not with smiling brow Upon thy tender breast. O, no ! for Death with cruel dart, Unheeding anguish wild, Has rudely torn thy yearning heart, And borne away thy child. Thy home is drear at break of day, And drear at set of sun ; For, lo ! the grave enwraps the clay Of thy departed one. And vainly does thy spirit sigh, With yearnings deep and wild, To clasp once more within thy arms Thy dear, thy darling child. Cold Death has snatched thy lovely flower ; But, lo ! the day draws near. When even Death shall lose his power. And thy sweet child appear All glorious with immortal life. In Eden's garden fair. O, mother, mother ! would'st thou meet Thv df>n.rlv-lr»VPrl nna iVtavA ^) mi OF HER ers now ; brow 3art, heart, day, e clay ild, arms ^yely flower ; s power, TO A MOTIUni ON THE DEATH OF HKR CHILD. 1 ^'o7 ti!f • '^'" f i" ^'' bIood-wa.shed thron. Un that immortal shore? " O, would'«t thou swell the Conqueror's song And greet thy child once more ? ^ ihcn turn to him who died for theo A death of woo and pain; And at the resuiTeution morn iimbraco thy child again ! 05 lou meet (( LIVE BY FAITH, AND NOT BY SIGHT/' Christian, why those flowing tears ? Why that clouded brow ? Why those dark and gloomy fears That torment thee now ? Throw aside the dark control That has gained upon thy soul. Bid thy doubts all take their flight ; " Live by faiih, and not by sight." Though temptations often rise, Lead thee far astray. Keep in view the glorious prize, Always watch and pray ; Know the crown is sure to those Who the tempter's power oppose. Gird thine armor on for fight ; " Live by faith, and not by sight." Though thy J. ^i is deeply stained. Turn from self thine eye. " Worthy is the Lamb once slain ! " And his dying cry Still is ringing loud and clear In the Father's holy ear. Then let not thy sins aff'right; "' Live hy faith, and not by sight." LIVE BY FAITH, AND NOT BY SIGHT. 19/ Though thy life be dark and drear. vJneofpain and gloom, And all that thy heart holds dear dumber m the tomb ; ^ough want and poverty be thine ; Thrn w.*^^^'?^*'' *^^« ^« divine Through this dark and dreary ni^ht Live by faith, and not by sight." Though the darkness reigns supreme, ±aith with piercing eye Sees a glorious morning beam, And that morning nigh Which ushers in the perfect day. When every cloud shall pass aw ^ ^tu ^^T^^"'. *hen, faith with uelight Shall quickly yield her place to sight^ . rfftMltLli li [at fl to% ». i |i!i l ii j . i i i>i,M THE MISSIONARY. " Farewell, O, farewell ! " the fond husband sighed, As she wept in his arms, that beautiful bride ; *' Stern duty commands me, and shall I delay. When my Saviour himself is pointing the way ? *' Those tears, dearly loved one, 0, why will they start? Like sharp-pointed arrows they torture my heart ! And none save my God my deep anguish can tell While I bid thee, beloved one, a long, sad farewell I " But list to the wild and the heart-piercing wail, Borne onward, still onward, by every soft gale, From Afric's dark coast ; and canst thou complain, Or bid me still longer with thee to remain ? " I go to bear freedom to Africa's sons ; I go to bear light to the down-trodden ones ; I go to proclaim a Saviour's deep love ; I go to prepare them for mansions above ! " Farewell, 0, farewell ! though the tears flow like rain, We will hope ; for, beloved one, we shall meet again ! If not on p-irth's wild, in that bright, blissful home, Where pilgrims are sheltered, no longer to roam." He has gone like the wind ; but the wild, tossing main VViii ne'er waft him back to that loved one again; THE MlSSrONARY. 199 VRY. I husband sighed, ful bride ; 11 1 delay, g the way ? lywill they start? ire my heart ! ;uish can tell ;, sad farewell ! )iercing wail, J soft gale, thou complain, 3main ? ns; n ones ; re; love! sars flow like rain, ihall meet again ! blissful home, ;er to roam." ild, tossinff main d one again ; Like a warrior he 's gone, . ih his sword and his shield • Like a warrior ho 'JI fall on ihe battle-staiaed Bold ! ' The years may roll on, but will never restore Ihat warrior again to his own native shore ; For he sleeps, calmly sleeps, far o'er the blue wave. While the tears of affection fall fast o'er his grave. For the dark sons of Afric kneel mournfully there, And with uplifted hands, join their voices in prayer ; While often in accents, half stifled with sighs, Ihe praise of the warrior ascends to the skies. O, warrior ! thy conquests, thy glory and name, Are nowhere enrolled in the annals of fame • But engraved in the hearts of the heathen with love Internal, and found in the Lamb's book above. O, warrior! no laurel encircles thy brow Not even a tombstone is reared to thee now ; But soon will a throne, and dominion divine. And a crown of bright glory and honor, be thine ! That crown will be set with more precious gems Than ever have glistened in kings' diadems ; But the brightest, the purest, the dearest gems there, The souls thou hast rescued from woe and despair ! ^^^^^WlaWBB?j\E^ ' MORNING SONG. Thb orient beams of morn arise, And while they tinge the blushing skie», And shining warblers on the wing, "With voice exulting, loudly sing, And every Jeaf and every flower Is glistening with a pearly shower j O, let us bend the huaible knee. And let us render thanks to thee, Our gracious Father and our friend. Strong to uphold and to defend ; And let us raise a song of praise With angela round the throne ! When clouds of darkness veiled the sky, And midnight winds went howling by. Supported by thy mighty arm, Preserved from every rude alarm, We sunk to rest, —we calmly slept. While night her lonely vigils kept; And now, while morning brightly glows, We, grateful for our sweet repose And for thy mercy and thy care. Would bow the knee in grateful prayer. And we would raise a song of praise With angels round the throne ! And when our course on earth is done, And when our weary race is run, J. Dg skies, og, MORNINO SONG. 4l1i''-',V.^' ^°"S and gloomy night Shall yield its place to morning hit, And glorious m the eastern skies ^ aLa u.f ^;g'^*«0"sness shall rise, An^ 'i^ *?/ '^^^^^^"' «f ^" times, fJI °f -n" "?*'°"'' ^"^ ^" climes, From hill and vale, from land and sea, Shall quickly rise to welcome thee : Then may we in sweet concert raise A song of love and endless praise, And join with angels' rapturous lays Around the dazzling throne ' 201 end, the sky, 'ghy, ept, )t; ^ glows, •rayer, a,ise inno L THE STAR OF BETHLEHEM. *• Ye tempests howl, ye waters roar, Around my lonely bark ; For love, and peaco, and joy, are o'er ! Roll, roll, ye waters dark I " Ye heavens grow black with stormy clouds, Put on your vengeful frown ; Ye thunders roll, ye lightnings flash — Pour all your fury down ! " Heave, heave thy waves, thou sounding deep, Higher and higher swell ; The trust I give thee, ocean, keep ; To all I loved, farewell ! " He spoke — th- youth with darkened soul. With burning cheek and eye ; He dashed aside his raven locks. And sternly turned — to die ! One instant more the dark, dark wave Had closed around his form ; And he, the young, the erring brave Had sunk beneath the storm. ^ixv niiiiu Upon liic liuwiing olust He spread his bitter woes, THE STAR OF BETHLEUE3I. lEHEM. re o'er ! rmy clouds, flash — )unding deep, ep; — sened soul, : wave 'ave The storm was calmed, the deep was stilled • A glorious star arose ! ' And long he gazed upon that star, Ihen bent the suppliant knee: J^Jff'ne pealing from afar - That bright star shines for thee ! " Repent thou of thy dark design, And hope, and peace, and love, ^^f/^VP'g'^iltyonelbethin;, And a blest home above. " ^^l^wK-''^ T^ ^°^ "^^*^^J^ shame J3e thine the lot to stem ; But follow thou thy guiding- star- The star of Bethlehem ! » He rose serene ; the storm was o'er, -ine heaving waves at rest: Despair's wild billows beat no more Upon the wanderer's breast. And out upon the calm night air Ihere burst a song of praise : It, J the, hour when yonder star Met my delighted gaze I "Thou fairest star thou brightest star, In all night's diadem, O, guide me to my home afar, Thou star of Bethlehem ' " 203 Ill THE MOTHER^S LAMENT, The evening breezes softlj moan Around my lonely cot ; But, 0, they bring no more the tone Which once they fondly brought ! They bring no more the ringing laugh Ut childish joy and glee ; They brirg no more the silvery voice Dearer than life to me ! The evening shadows quickly fall Around my lonely cot ; But, O, they bring no more the scenes In days of yore they brought ! They bring no more the joyous child. Obedient at their call, To watch the images they cast Upon the cottage wall. The soothing hour of rest appears — Thick darkness veils my cot ; But, ah ! it brings no more the rest Which once it gently brought. It brings no more the guileless breath Of childhood's calm repose ; It lays no more within my arms AMENT, loan he tone •ought ! ing laugh 7 voice fall le scenes ;ht! s child, lars — 5 rest It. breath THE mother's UMENT. The radiant beams of morning rise — Theurglorjr fills mj cot; ^ JiutO they wake not from his sleep Ihe form which once thav brouirhf In health and freedom froThL'coth, « To breathe the morning air — To sing his simple lays, or join With mem humble prayer! And evening's softest breeze may sigh, Hnfi ^°^ ""^ '^''*» '"y darling child Unto my arms no more ; ° For neither storm nor searching blast Can wake the slumb'ring dead; ^^?^.'^f'P' heedless of them all Within ins narrow bed. And evening shadows too may fall And darkness veil the skies; ' Mt?h-M^'^-n"'^f^ by gathering clouds. My child will ne'er arise, ' j-o seek a shelter from the night And from the dreary gloom • ' For night is like the da/toThise Who slumber in the tomb. And Sleep may send his angels forth, 10 ease the weary heart; And bia them spread their soothing wings 2 1 °®^®^ ^^^* ^"other shade. My boy, upon thy brow; T ^^j^'^.uv/''^^^^' ^°^^ and still, In deathlike slnmKr — ' - — — — , ,^^ 205 "Xav rtr\. 18 "V.T. 200 THE mother's lament. My child comes not at hush of eve, Nor in the silent night ; • But when the Morn shall gild the east With floods oiJimTig liyht, And when that morning's Sun shall rise, Whose beams shall gild the toinb, My boy will leave his icy couch, In more than childhood's bloom ! Then, hail, thrice hail, thou happy day ! - When wUl the night be gone ? When will the shadows flee away, And that bright morning dawn ? Sure every mother's heart that holds A tie so dear and strong, Within the grave, with me can cry — " How long, O Lord, how long?" iW east II rise, day! — ds r — 'TIS I-BE NOT AFRAID. '™e.y bark was on the soa. Where wild the billows played • Deep terror 6lled each trembling frame When suddenly the accents came. ' i IS 1 — be not afraid ! " . ^ "'"''■y'- stood with tranquil air : He saw the stake, the fettlrs ther;, Ihetagots all arrayed; ' But, though such darknei reigned around H caught the sweet,nhe cheefing sound! ' J. IS 1 — be not afraid ! " A weary pilgrim roamed alone ; J^or him was breathed no friendly tone; No friendly hand brought aid f But, through the gloom so dark and drear A gentle whisper reached his ear, ' T is I — be not afraid I " A mother knelt in anguish wild iieside a loved, a dying child. And tears in torrents strayed : A soothing voice breathed to her heart In tones that bade despair depart, ' i IS X — be not afraid ! " ir 208 'tis I — BE NOT AFRAID. \ y n a bed of pain and death A (Ji nstian faiutiy drew his breath, With spirit half dismayed ; He heard a soft, a tender voir'' — It caused th„^ spirit to rejoieo — "'Tis I — bo not afraid!" A penitent with streaming e^'e Raised unto heaven his doleful cry, And fervently he prayed ; A brilliant light around him shone. And with it came a heavenly tone, "'Tis I — bo not afraid!" And when the trump from yonder skies Shal' bid the silent dead arise; When suns and stars shall fade ; When thunders roar, and mountains fall ; The saints shall hear above them all, " 'T is I — be not afraid ! " • » "BJillOLD, HE COMETH." He comes with glory onTi Trow ' He comes -bttfti.fo vengeance now.. He comes— but not with lowlv form • . He comes 'mid wreath in,r .. n^ V While suns and'IS'taU ftThMe' *™'" Before the mighty Cruciecd! He comes — he comps But awful maMral™"""''""'^ '^°™- Hisslunmg brow; creation rings; ior.lo, he comes as King of tings! Tr::EaTdtrb:n;;trLrstf-'' In terror to the mountains^call '• lo hide them from the Lord of All ! Ho comes — hn coin"o^ i— i And Zion joyfully hails her Ki^r'™ ™«' 210 ^ "BEHOLD, HE COMETH." On wings of love the saints arise, . And mount to meet him in the skies ! He comes — he comes — Death's power is o'er ; His victims wake from sea and shore — Immortal leave the icy tomb, While earth regains its Eden bloom ! He comes — he comes — the tyrant's sway, The despot's power, have passed away ; And Zion sings, in joyful strains, " Jesus^ our great Deliverer, reigns I " THE WANDERER. Has % native 1 J 'oX^ tX"^ "'""^ That thou bravest thus the rage of the sea? uast thou not friends devoted and dear? rtn ^^T^^'^^ '°"g ^''«r« the billows roar • Thn" ^^f ^y'^f' on the peaceful shore ' Thou hast battled long with the howlirstorm And the waves have dashor? «'», *i, ° ^">"a, Then cease. Ionel/:attt:c:;strrra-r'' '"""'• Beturn once more to thj childhood's home" ' The meadows are green, and the forests are fair To such bright scenes wilt thou say farewell? Does thy mother not watch for thy coming now m^Z7^r' ^'r.' '''^ ^ throbbing bfow?' J^oes thy father not list for thy voice to fail And'irT V^' "^^ ancestral hall? ' And thy brothers and sisters, with t^nA., .:. Are -uiey not waiting to welcome thee' th^ireV 212 THE WANDERER. Then why dost thou leave the beautiful shore ? Return to the scenes of thy youth once more ; To the forests green, 0, wanderer go! Where thy youthful brothers are bending the bow • J^orget thy toils on the briny deep, In the sweets of homo ; — but why dost thou weep ? " Ye bid me forsake the billowy foam, Ye bid me return to my childhood's home; Ye say that the forests are blooming and fair, Ye speak of the birds tl it are warbling there ; And my heart grows sad, and pallid my brow, For I have no home to return to now ! " Ye speak of the friends of my early youth, Whom I dearly loved with devotion and truth ; In whose joys and sorrows I once had a share / But where are they now? 0, tell me, where !* Should I meet them all at the vine-clad door?— Alas ! alas ! we shall meet no more ! " Then tell me not of my childhood's home, Nor the forests green where I used to roam ; . O, tell me not of my native shore ! It has beauties still; but they charm no more! There 's not a friend, nor a home for me ; Then welcome, O, welcome, thou dark, dark sea! « I have wandered long with an aching heart ; I have seen the friends whom I love depart ; But the howling tempests are wafting me o'er The rudfi sea of life to a heavenly shore ; And soon I shall enter the haven of rest, The home of the pure, the happy, and blest. 1 1 c lore? Die; the bow ; lou weep ? • 'air, lere; •ow, h, nth; are; — 3re! THE WANDEKER. 213 or?- Dre! £ sea! rt; > 'er "I bade an adieu to earth's fleetiner charms When death tore all that I loved from my arms • And now the departed in ecstasy wai^ ^ ' ' lo welcome me home by the pearly gate • — Then ye billows heave/and yl ij^s ro7r O, bear me on to that glorious shore ! » # p^mSim THE MESSENGER-BIRD O, FLY away to the better land, Thou bird of the snowy wing ! O, fly away to the blood-washed band, And hear the songs they sing ! But bear a message from us, O, dove ! To that bright and happy throng ; For we have friends, whom we dearly love. Who swell the Conqueror's song. O, tell them our hearts are sad and lone, Our homes not bright as of yore ; For we miss the soft, the soothing tone Of the friends we loved before ! 0, tell them we sigh for the better land, For earth has grown sad and chill ; And we long rejoicing with them to stand On the heights of Zion's hill ! 0, tell them we long to share their rest, Afar from all earthly strife ; We long to lean on our Saviour's breast, - And roam by the tree of life ! Os tell them our fondest Kon^o arfi fjipr*^ For our earthly hopes ite o'er ; THE MESSENQER-BIRD. 215 And we sigh for the land ali bright and lUii-- , We sigh for the deathless shore ! Then fly away to the better land, Thou bird of the snowy wino- ' ' A^/^^-^ ^ ^^^ blood-washed band And hear the songs they sing » * And then return with th« speed of love. AnA^n *^®^^g^* grows dark and chill, And tell us O tell us thou white-winged dove » Do they lo-e, do they love us still ? * We know there is One, in that blissful home. Who loves and remembers us yet ; Ih^gh weary and sorrowful now we roam, We know that he will not forget ! We 'II trust him then the great and the strong ; By his own almighty hand ^ ' To th?f V7f Of with the blood-washed throng 10 the bright, the better land ! ^ mrmiUmeAamut, \. THE DYING WARRIOR. A WARRIOR lay, with a heaving breast, On the field of the dying and dead ; His cheek was pale and his lips compressed, And the fading light from the distant west Shone over his gory bed. The night came on ; and the moon arose With her soft and her tremulous glow ; She shed her light o'er friends and o'er foes, All sleeping together in dull repose On the battle-field below. The warrior gazed with a mournful sigh On the blue and the star-spangled dome ; While tears shone bright in his sunken eye, And vivid thoughts like the lightning would fly To his childhood's distant home. He thought of the mother who used to bend O'er his couch, when in sorrow and pain Who to his complaints an ear would lend ; But alas ! he knew that that dearest friend Would ne'er bend o'er hun again. He thought of the scenes where once he strayed With his brothers in days of yore ; He thought of the stream, the peaceful glade. The cottage that stood in the dark green shade IT iwi mc viucs muuuu lae uoor. 311. essed, west se )WJ : foes, h ome ; eye, vould fly TUE DYING WARRIOR. 217 ^'t'X X'^^ \P""S °^ ^^rk despair, %llZ.Y "1 ^'T"* P^^y^^ ^«»^d rise i^or the loved and the long-absent one • Sd Kh * ''^ *.^^" ^^"'^ ^« "^om Wir eyes And his father's voice would be choked with LYo As he prayed for his erring son ^^'' He knew for him the} would all implore A renewed and a sanctified heart ; That when the toils of this life were o'er They all rmgU embrace each other once more Never, no never to part ! ' One trembling hand to his brow he pressed, And the tears of contrition he shed ; ' He implored for pardon, a home with he blest • Then he wrapped his cloak round h s gor^^^^^^^^^ And the warrior's spirit fled ' ^^ * 19 ^ bend pain — id; end strayed glade, n shade, THE MOTHER^S ROCK. Mear where two streams their waters blend There stands a lofty rock ; The tempests howl, the floods descend, Still it withstands the shock. 'T is darkly stained with tears and gore Ne'er to be cleansed by time ; * For there it bends the blue wave o'er A monument of crime ! Within a fair sequestered place, Where forests green appeared, And nature wore a smiling face, A little hut was reared ; Wild flowers grew in profusion there. And balmy zephyrs sighed ; Nor knew they aught of grief or care The negro and his bride. Bright faces gathered round their hearth. Though dark the youthful brow ; Yet they were dearer than all earth Unto those parents now ; And love that mortals seldom know Around their dwelling shone, And made a paradise below. rp^ -.11 xu- 1 1 _t J.W iiii luu wuriu uuKiiOwu. TIIE mother's rock. ^ Thn.^ 1 there came a fatal morn, tJAu^^^''?^^'^^ e'er before; The father with his eldest born Launched from the peaceful shore • A^nd 'J '^ *!;« ba'rk was borne ' And lightly sped away, U er the blue waters, to return iJefore the close of day. 'Twas noon; and sat beneath the shade The wife and children three -- A happy group ; two round her played One sported on her knee. ^ ^ ' And joy was in the mother's eye That loye will eyer claim ~ A mother's loye, too strong to die, In black and white the same! one starts m dread amaze ; — What sound was that? what sight is this BnfhiM TT^ ^""^« ^^e bare ; But he, the leader of that band, -Has soft and sunny hair ! Each brow is dark saye his alone - And his how pale and fair ' Compared with theirs how soft his tone ' _ What does the white man there? The crucifix of silyer bright T^,fe^J.^^5.^^.«* appears ^ - -o^. wi puuue — ail J sure the si^ht Must soothe the mother's fears !^ 219 220 THE mother's rock. Alas ! no messages of love Bring him at such an hour, And she must dread his frown above The savage Indian's power ' She clasped her babes, dearer than life, One piercing cry she gave, ■^ojr she, the mother and the wife. Must be the white man's slave I She struggles ; — no, it may not be — fehe may not burst her chain ; The negro never may be free In her dear home again ! But near and nearer to her breast, With torn and bleeding arms Her trembling babes she wildly pressed, 10 hush their rude alarms I Toward the river's quiet shore That struggling form they drew ; J-^® J^aves that morn the father bore — They bear the mother, too ; But not like him, ere day shall close, ±0 seek their once fair cot ; She never more may find repose Within that sheltered spot I The shore recedes, her breast heaves high With woe and anguish wild; tSt^^ *^e wave there rings a cry " My husband and my child ! " Al^ wretched one ! thy bitter wail Falls on no tender ear^ And thou may'st call till'vmVA slioii «.;i Nor child nor husband hear ! -""* I F fe, 3d, igh THE mother's hock. That night when moon and shining star . Lit up tho azure dome, ^ ^ Ah. iittle might .they know ihe pangs, that rent her faithful breast Of agony and woe ! ^* Day after day, night after night, bhe strove to fly i„ vain ; ^ As oft arrested in her flight, They brought her bound again ! She bore the lash, the scorn, the shame With an undaunted heart ; ' SL • /,^^'^f ,P^«g there came - She and her babes must part ' In vain she clasped them to her "breast With look of wild despair ; ' From that last place of earthly rest Those helpless ones they tear ! And she has gone; at every throb, O, how her bosom bleeds ! iMor scalding tear nor bitter sob A pitying spirit heeds ! From shore to shore she rolls her eyes-. W^r.r'"'-*^' scene around ! ^ ' wnile there in *»«««« r,u^ \-. Bleeding, and worn, and bound ! 221 222 THE MOTnm's rock. Tho day wears on — 't will soon be spent ; How trembles now her frame ! She hears her darling babes lament, And call their mother's name ! The dearest objects of her care, — O, no ! they must not be Without a friend their griefs to share, — One struggle — she is free ! She plunges 'neath the dark blue wave, And she has reached the shore ; Now haste thee on, 0, mother, brave ! Ne'er was such need before. Alas ! alas ! 't is all in vain — Hell-hounds are on her track ; Upon her Hying steps they gain — They 've brought that mother back ! Upon a rock which overhung The dark and foaming wave. With every nerve to anguish strung, Stands the heart-broken slave ! And at her side are cruel foes ; Her suffering they mock ; The cliff o'er which her life blood flows They name the " Mother's Rock ! " She trembles as the lashes fall — She feels the warm blood start ; But, ah ! a pang more keen than all Has torn her wretched heart I And 't is not for he^- own dark lot Her bitter shrieks arise ; Her helpless babes claim every thought ; i- or tucm she madly cries ; spent ; e,— Lve, 3! c! YS ht; THB MOTIUBR'p ROCK. Onoomoretheboatisonitswr- Ibo setting sun sheds his last ray Upon the scene below: -tvua lails t/ J clally rain Upon the mother's bleeding form And cool, her burning brain They reached the destined place at length : W ithm a dreary shed ^ ' The mother lay with wasted strengtJi And sadly drooping head. ^ vZT^u^' '°? '^' ^«^'« «" sound Except the raging storm ; Her wounded arms she may not move- Her teeth untie the thong ; Ah ! how those painful efforts prove Her love, so deep and strong ! With noiseless step and beaming brow fehe passes through the door : For ir \"' ^'''' ^^*^ Wture now, J-^or she is free once more ! The n^ht is dark, the rain falls fast, And fourscore miles divide Her from her babes, - wilds to be passed And rivers.deep and wide ! ^ ' Ihe scene around, the>y above, Might tempt her to despair: iiut_, no ; her heart is strong u^Wl. h ner precious babes are th^ere ' " " 223 224 THE mother's rock. V with bounding heart she takes her flight Where man has never been ; Deeper and deeper grows the night, Brighter the flame within ; Through forests dense, where scarce a beam Of light at noon might stray — O'er pathless waste — o'er swollen stream - Onward she holds her way ! Days fled — and on the fourth bright morn The mother's woes were past — What cared she now for pain or scorn ? — She clasped her babes at last ! The tears of joy rolled o'er her face — Yet short the hour of bliss ; 0, mother ! 't is thy lact embrace — Thy last paternal 1<:iss ! While friend nor foe may heed her cries, • They bind her as before ; Her children's wails with hers arise — They part — to meet no more ! The mother bowed her aching head Beneath the fatal stroke ; Her heart had long in anguish bled, And now her heart-strings broke ! Not long her mangled breast might heave With its tormenting throes ; For ere the sun had set that eve The mother found repose ! Nor children's wail might rouse her more, Nor cause her form to start ; She rested calmly on th« shore — She of the broken heart ! light I beam tream- t morn •n? — THE mother's rock. 225 Near where two streams their waters blend, Ihere stands the « Mother's Rock ' " The tempests howl, the floods descend, fetill It withstands the shock • For there it bends, uncleansed by time, Ihe dark blue wave above, A monument of woe and crime, And of a mother's love ! Ties, leave naore, \ THE DRUNKARD^S WIFE. There came a cry on the howling blast A cry of woe and of pain ; A moment more, and the voice had past, And never was heard again ! That night a mourner her vigils kept, But the tear was yet unshed ; And the chilly breeze her damp locks swept Above the brow of the dead ! Long, long she gazed on the haggard face. And she parted the matted hair From the deadly brow, where shame and disgrace Were mingled with foul despair ! She shed no tear, but the pallid cheek Told well of the inward strife; And told of the woe no tongue might speak The woe of the drunkard's wife ! Dark grew the night, and louder the storm, And the dreary rain fell fast; But still she knelt by that shattered form, And she thought of the scenes of the past. She remembered well when in early youth She stood by that loved one's side, With a beaming eve and n. h^arf nf im^tu A lair and a happy bride. \ IFE. ast — >ast, 3 swept face, md disgrace speak — jtorm, THE drunkard's WIFP. She remembered weli ^.th..re^^ For she saw thf o'nfe fe d7«l°„"d 'th':"'" ' Prepared for a drunkard's tomb ,« And the curse was henrii o+ *i, ^ She breathed o'er ^eX^^^^ ^^^^ '^^^^"^ I'or the curse of God wifh h. ^ ''^' Upon the rumseller'sTci^^^^^ "'"' ^°^" 227 orm, le past. )uth nfk \ THE NEW YEAR. WRITTEN FOE 1853. Another year ! — another year ! — What strange emotions swell, As with a saddened heart we hear The dying year's farewell ! We mark his last expiring groan, And then, perchance, a tear, Sacred to Memory's self alone. Falls on his silent bier. We view in deatli his closing eye, His features pale and chill ; And, though we scarce could answer why, We cling around him still. We draw the gloomy shroud apart That hides his well-known face. And with a wildly heaving heart We give one last embrace. In his short reign a long, long band Of pain and death he 's led ; And ev'ry nation, ev'ry land. Sighs for its fallen dead. Upon her mighty statesman's ,grave Columbia drops a tear, T? luiu jiiijgiaiia uiourns iier warrior brave. And weeps above his bier. \ • I _ > • ear re, iswer why, art ce, •t and ave •ior brave, THE NEW YEAR. He 's mixed for us full many a cup Ut sorrow and of care, And sternly bade us drink it up, Unheedmg what was there. 'iteh^si?^'--^^^ ' Th?f^^^-f ?^r'^'^ ^«^'«« ^'« Pushed I hat hailed the new-born year ! He 'r. r-iven us a priceless gem, .ot round with gems of gold : i'laced m one glorious diadem, When will its worth be told ? That precious gift once was our own ; That jewel fair and bright Now lies before our Maker's throne, And glistens m his sight ! And when the trumpet's awful roar Wn S 11 f ^^*^ S'°^"^"g earth. We shall behold that gem once more. And we shall feel its worth. ^, will it buy the great reward Ihen prized by ev'ry heart? Ur will it force our gracious Lord 10 speak that word -— « depart That year has fled, forever fled ~ But stay ye rsLlUng tears ! A u- ^°°^^®r gem instead As bright and pure appears. Improve it well — the gift ig g^at - It may not long be thine ; Then learn, ere it shall be too late. ifie ^kicoiess worth of time 20 229 )> \ THE CAPTIVE. " Another dreary day is past — I fain would wish it were my last; bince every day and every year Find me a lonely captive here. " When rise the beams of mc-ning light At morn, at eve, at dead of night-- ' Ah ! ihey are all the same to one Who never sees the rising sun ! *' Sometimes I hear the merry shout Of children wandering without ; And when those joyous sounds I hear, i^ver there falls a burning tear. " JJor I had children young and fair, With sparkling eyes and sunny hair, With blooming cheek and happy brow : — Where are they, ! where are they now? "Perchance they slumber in the tomb Forgetful of their father's doom • ' Perchance, far o'er the dark blue sea, liiey h^e, and still remember me. "0, could they gaze upon my -face, They would not there their father trace IN or in this bent and feeble frame ! — ' The heurc alone is still the same ! THE CAITIVE. " My Smu A ^''' ^^^^^-^ ^i^h time ; B.Tf i ; ^* ^® ^'^ manhood's prime • But let me try as oft I will ^ ' I sec them only children still. "ToTlr^^.'^.'^*' hearts are strong I wondtift' '"? ^^"" *^^ ^4? 1 wondei if they place their love On things below, or things above? Iheir faith m Jesus' blood alone ? - i^or which I am a captive here. "Grant it my Father and my Friend • Anm^^r^r^'''^ love extend ;■ in mercy, Fa, er, make them thine I "And if this dreary dungeon wall And if ''? ''""f. ^^ '^^ ^^-^^ ball call • And if unfriended and alone ' 1 breathe my last expiring groan ; . " ^e thou my hope, be thou my stav Brive all my gloomy fears a^^' An^\f^^"^ J^"