l±L> \ II V! ! ' I I ? jl r FROM THE LIBRARY OF REV. LOUIS FITZGERALD BENSON, D. D. BEQUEATHED BY HIM TO THE LIBRARY OF PRINCETON THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2012 with funding from Princeton Theological Seminary Library http://archive.org/details/vesperbellsOObatt wmm m *^%&A ^ssSZ^^S^ A MAR 22 1934 w VESPER BELLS AND OTHER VERSES BY THE REV. H. G. BATTERSON, D.D. NEW YORK JAMES POTT & CO. Fourth Ave. and 22D Street. 1896. Copyright, 1896, by JAMES POTT & COMPANY Press of J. J. Little & Co. Astor Place, New York g*4i*aii0tt to tte Jir0t (edition. 1877. TO MY MOTHER. IF words of mine one soul may lead From ways of sin and death, to find The place where God that soul shall feed, And to His Throne with love shall bind The weary heart, I ask no more. What better can I leave behind, Than record of that blessed store Of God's great love for human-kind ? ®econb (Sbittott. TO MY WIFE. "FAITHFUL AND TRUE." " When the warmest feelings wither, And the dearest hopes decay ; To thee — to thee — thou knowest, Whate'er my lot may be, For comfort and for happiness, My spirit turns to thee. ' ' 11 Beloved best of all on earth by me, Like running brook my love flows on to thee Through months and years, to all eternity. My love the brook ; thy love the open sea, Absorbing love in love, yet giving love to me. Thy heart of hearts, my heart doth rest upon ; And heaven to earth, it bringeth down to me, Till all my soul is filled with sweet and radiant joy, And I have naught to wish." preface* The first edition was entitled " Christmas Carols and other Verses," but the carols form so little portion of the present work, the old title seemed a misnomer. All the verses and carols in the first book are con- tained in this. H. G. B. t£ontentB, PACK Vesper Bells I Pleasant Words 3 Kindly Words 5 Ambition 6 Fame 6 An Old Portrait 7 Be Still, Sad Heart 9 Aching Hearts 11 Little Things 13 The Blue-Bell 14 Autumn 14 Forget-Me-Xot 15 Domine Miserere 16 The Tears of Jesus 19 " 'Tis Said he Never Smiled." 24 The Disciple is not Above his Master .... 26 St. Luke's Church, Germantown, Pennsylvania . . 31 How Does the Rain Come ? 34 The Answered Prayer 39 Eternity 42 A Threnody 43 One Hundred Years Ago 44 Pennsylvania: The Prayer of her Loyal Sons . . 46 Long, Long Ago 48 Query 50 The Moon 51 VI CONTENTS. That Dainty Finger The Beautiful Sea .... Daisy's Cat Forty-Nine To Mr. Richard E. Burton To My Mother To a Lady on her Sixty-Seventh Birthday To a Lady on her Seventy-Ninth Birthday To T. IL F To J. M. R. on his Twenty-First Birthday In Memoriam Sympathy ..... Hymns and Carols : Advent The Bridegroom Cometh The Christmas Bells .... Joyfully, Joyfully, Angels are Singing Carol On the First Bright Christmas Day The Epiphany The Star of Bethlehem The Holy Child . Good-Friday Lent Easter He is Risen ! He is Risen An Easter Carol Bright Easter Day Ascension Whitsuntide Come, Holy Spirit Faith, Hope, Charity J Iymn to the Trinity S. Barnabas CONTENTS. Vll Saint Augustine Saint John Baptist " Theotokos " . The Good Shepherd The Cross The Cross of Jesus Light of the World Penitence Adoration . The Name of Jesus Evening Hymn . Forgiveness Hymn for a Mission Lenten Hymn Children Jerusalem Thine Forever . Except it Die Adeste Fideles PAGE 106 108 no 112 114 115 116 118 120 122 124 125 127 129 130 131 133 134 135 Wanderers: Dear Guiding Presence 143 J 45 Self-Surrender He Careth for Thee The Tapestry Weavers M7 149 besper Belta The rosy clouds fade in the west, And pass away from sight, While o'er the mountain's rugged crest (Sweet harbingers of night ! ) The vesper bells ring out the praise Of Him who crowns with love the days, We in His Name delight. The storm-clouds gather, dark and gray, As evening shades draw near ; The pealing thunder far away Falls trembling on the ear ; Yet still the evening bells awake The vesper call, our prayers to make In love and holy fear. The drifting snow goes flying fast O'er cottage and o'er hall ; The storm-tossed ships ride in the blast, Nor fear what may befall ; While evening bells once more we hear, As bidding men no storm to fear For God is all in all. VESPER BELLS. In cloud or sunshine, joy or woe, God's love is still the same ; His arm protects from every foe, If, trusting in His Name, At sound of evening bells we haste And bend the knee that love to taste In consecrated fane. 'Tis not alone the music sweet Of those dear bells we hear ; But to those hearts attuned to meet Our God, by faith so near, They tell of glory all our own, When we before the Great White Throne, Freed from our bonds, appear. pleasant tDorbs. "Pleasant words are as an honeycomb, sweet to the soul, and health to the bones." — Proverbs xvi. 24. Pleasant Words are full of sweetness To the heart oppressed with care ; Peace they bring, and bounteous gladness, Light and love the garb they wear. Treasured more by far than rubies, Yet, alas ! how sadly rare ! Pleasant Words come to the weary Like a sweet and dreamless sleep ; Strength, and life, and health bestowing, As from fountains broad and deep, Welling up in sandy deserts Sparkling waters onward sweep. Pleasant Words are words of comfort, Messengers of trust and love, Laden well with richest blessings From the treasure-house above ; Borne on wings of hope and mercy, Gentle as the Holy Dove. PLEASANT WORDS. Pleasant Words of quiet meekness Scatter doubts and banish fears ; Angry tongues may gather round us, Crushing hopes and causing tears ; Words of kindness heal the anguish, Darkness flies, and light appears. Pleasa?it Words of large compassion Spring from tender hearts and true ; Strong with gladness, hope and courage. Ever old and ever new, Leading souls with sorrow burdened Earth's dark journey safely through. Pleasa?it Words are like the noonday, Cheering with a glad delight ; Falsehood's breath may scorch and hurt us, Turning all our day to night : Friendship's words of trustful pleading Cover all our paths with light ! KmMB tDorb0. He is kind to the unthankful and to the evil."— S. Luke : vi. 35. Do you know there is some one waiting For that kindly word of yours : A heart that is sore, with its aching Sad burden of sorrow's hours ? Do you know a voice that is crying For love both tender and true : Of Faith, in a heart that is dying For a word of love from you ? Speak ! One word, to that heart now breaking, That Brother of yours and mine : Oh trust me : — new life will be waking, New light in those eyes will shine. Wait not for the morrow that's coming, To-morrow will never be ; To-day is the time for our doing, The time for you and for me. Speak now ; for the day is fast waning, And darkness will come apace : If a soul you would now be gaining, Speak the Love that's in your face. KINDLY WORDS. Help, help for a life that is broken : A word that is clear and true ; The "kindly word," just now, if spoken, A blessing will bring to you. 'Twill banish despair and its blindness, From a faint and weary one ; One word that is full of God's kindness, And a life-work you have done. Ambition. A bubble, quickly blown in air, And shining : Oh ! so wondrous fair ! 'Tis gone ! And nothing left behind, But disappointment, and the wind ! Scant 'Tis but the writing of a name On air. The zephyr comes, and there Is nothing left of this great flame Of torture, but the question : Where ? ^n ©lb portrait. What face is this, with eyes which stare And follow one, whichever way He turns, as if it longed to say : " How now, my man ; what do you there ? " This painted shadow on the wall. How grim it looks in that strange dress Of velvet, frills, and costly lace : A stern and hardened, sordid face, Here held in still and close duress. This painted shadow on the wall. One wonders now, did ever sound Of gentle words from those lips come And bid a welcome here, to some Whose life with his, was ever bound ? This painted shadow on the wall ? It matters not what name he bore, Nor what his lordly titles were : But one may ask : What was he there ? What was his life ? The very core ? This painted shadow on the wall. 7 AN OLD PORTRAIT. Turn now away. Those lips are dust, The eyes are gone for evermore : The dress has rotted which he wore, And pride has gone, where all pride must. This painted shadow o?i the wall. One can but wonder at the strife Of men, to leave behind them here A name — a memory — a fear, Something to tell of their brief life, If but a shadow o?i the wall. Howe'er men scheme ; howe'er men toil, Most are forgotten in the end : This, this is what it comes to, friend : The passing time does but assoil This painted shadow on the wall. Be ©till Qab Cjeart "Heaviness may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning." Be still sad heart ; heed not the storm Of angry voices gathering loud ; The day will break — both bright and warm — Undimmed by any earthly cloud. No more shall foes around thee press, With malice, hate and envious tongue ; No more, sad heart, thy hope repress, While ruthless hands thy woes prolong. No more shalt thou the bitter cup Of fond hopes crushed — of cruel jeers — With trembling and with fear take up, To drink with sorrow's scalding tears. The Father's love a balm will find To heal thy wounds and cheer thy way; Thy bleeding heart His Hand will bind, And all thy burden bear away. Thy righteousness, as sunlight clear, All men shall know ; and they shall see Thy justice as the noon appear ; W r hile Christ thy light and rest shall be. 9 io BE STILL, SAD HEART. Be still, sad heart ; the time draws near When tears shall dim thine eyes no more ; When angel voices thou shalt hear, And glory gild the distant shore. Be patient then ; thy heavy cross Will but endure a single night ; Stand firm for truth, count all else loss, And joy shall come with morning light ! 3UI)ing hearts. The heart knoweth his own bitterness." The world is full of aching hearts, Each with its own unrest ; And sin has formed a poisoned dart For every human breast. Some cry aloud beneath the load Of overmastering sin : With hearts a-bleeding from the goad Which conscience presses in. Some weep alone in bitter grief, Sore longing for the hour When death itself shall bring relief From Satan's awful power. And oh ! for hearts in anguish rent, With slander's bitter tongue ; Bearing the woe in secret sent By which the soul is wrung : Crushed, bruised, and bleeding by the hand That should defend and shield ; Struck by the brother, who should stand In life's sad battle-field, — ii 12 ACHING HEARTS. To turn aside th' envenomed dart Of envy, malice, hate ; And nobly bear a brother's part, And share a brother's fate. Oh, pity show the aching heart ! Turn not away in scorn ; Lest mercy from thy life depart, Which should that life adorn. 'Tis better far, with love to hide The shame, (if shame there be,) Than with an open mouth deride, And lose sweet Charity ! Cittk <2tf)tngB. Let me, I pray thee, drink a little water from thy pitcher." — Gen. xxiv. 17. Only a little cold water, But every drop will tell ; The pitcher would soon be empty. Were drops not in the well. Only a poor little penny ; I had no more to give ; But as pennies make the dollars, 'Twill help some cause to live. Only a few bits of ribbon, And toys that were not new ; But they made the sick child happy, And made me happy, too. Only some faded old garments — I had no more to spare ; But they helped to clothe the needy, And they are everywhere. Only a few words of comfort, That nothing cost to say ; But the poor old man died happy, They cheered him on the way. J 3 14 LITTLE THINGS. God loveth a cheerful giver, Though gift be poor and small ; What doth he think of his children, Who never give at all ? 0TI)c Sluc-BclL The Blue-Bell on the Alpine heights. But echo is, of Alpine light. As I passed by, it seemed to say : To Heaven ? To God ? This is the way ! Autumn, A flush of fever on the face Of nature : and it holds full sweep. A sign of death which comes a pace ? Methinks 'tis but the sign of sleep. ibrget-Jfle-Kot. The Father gave all flowers a name, And each one had its own ; But soon a wee one backward came, And, standing by His Throne, With timid grace and trembling frame, The modest blue eyes fell ; And then it said, almost with shame, " How it can be I cannot tell, But Father dear, my name ! my name ! Alas ! I have forgot ! " The Father kindly said, — " No blame, My child, — Forget-me-not I " IS Dominc Mvuxtxt (A Paraphrase.) I will arise and to my Father go ! Alas ! And when I throw me at His Feet, What can I say ? I left my Father's House, And gathered of the fruit my folly sowed ; The taste was bitter, and I then returned. I once returned, and once I was forgiven. My heart again rebelled. Again returned, And yet again I was forgiven all ! The penitential vow upon my lips, The kiss Paternal warm upon my cheek, And still about my neck the Golden Chain With which he pledged and bound me to His love Again, and yet again, I spurned the gift. God ! I dare not come to plead with Thee ! 1 dare not even lift my eyes to Heaven, Lest in the look there be offence and sin. I dare not offer Thee a wish or vow, Lest in Thine awful Wisdom Thou should'st see Sin in the wish, or falsehood in the vow. If I should say, " I fear Thee," that is false ; For if I feared Thee, could I madly brave The awful threatenings of Thy broken Law 16 DO MINE MISERERE. For every empty bauble of the world ? If I should say, " I love Thee," that, alas ! Is falsehood too. True love is dutiful, Patient, submissive, fearing to offend, Obedient, grateful. I am none of these. And if I plead the penitential tear ; The firm resolve to " go and sin no more " ; Dost thou not know that ere the false tear dries, I do again the very sin I wept ; And even while the vow is on the lip, The heart is with the idol it renounced ? / come to Thee ? There's something in the thought So strange, so fearful ; something in the way So dark, I cannot even lift mine eyes. My sins have taken such a hold on me, I cannot look into my Father's Face ! — But I can come to Thee, my Saviour ! God, And yet my Brother ! Who Thyself hast trod The very earth we walk on — Who hast shared Our needs and felt our sorrows ; been tempted E'en as we are ; whose in-earthed Spirit here Made proof of all things in us, save our sin ; — Aye, and that, too ; for it was that which broke By its dread weight the Heart that knew no sin. Still, I can come to Thee, my Saviour, Friend, For I have something I can say to Thee. I tell thee not of duty, love or fear, Of penitence, or tears, or aught of mine ; But something would I whisper of Thine own. *7 1 8 DO MINE MISERERE. The tender pity, moving Thee in Heaven ; The love that Thou hast promised and hast proved As never love was pledged or proved till then. Not for Thy friends, for friends Thou had'st not one ; But for Thy foes, for false ones such as I. Oh, go then forme to my Father's House, And tell Him — one who cannot come for shame, For very shame ; who has no more to say : — Has been with Thee to plead Thy Precious Blood For Pardon that I dare not ask again. Say — for Thou know'st how bitter are the husks On which this false world feeds my heart — how I. In secret, sorrow for my Father's House, But still am torn and tempted from His Door. Nay, my Redeemer ! say not aught of me, But only that Thou knowest me, and that Thou lovest, and did'st shed Thy Blood for me ; Lost as I am, that Thou would'st have me saved ; False as I am, that Thou would'st make me true ; Foul as I am, that Thou would'st have me clean ; Weak as I am, that Thou would'st make me strong, And find me prayers when I can pray no more. Perchance, for Thy dear sake, He will forbear, And give me back the love I threw away. Perchance, for Thee, His Arms will once again Embrace His erring, wayward, sinful child ! So shall my soul at last return in peace, And find Redemption in Thy Precious Blood. &he ©care of 2esus. " And when He was come near, He beheld the city, and wept over it." — S. Luke xix. 41. The tears of Jesus ! What the secret woe Which caused the Son of God to weep, as erst His eyes looked on the radiant beauty of The City of His love, all glorious with Its glittering pinnacles of light ? Jerusalem ! The vision bright of Peace ; The hill of Zion, from whence comes all good To man ! " Salvation cometh of the Jews." Like a fair bride in festal splendor robed, Her streets are decked with garlands for the feast ; The waving Palms — the sign of victory ; The loud acclaim, " Hosanna ! " yet again " Hosanna ! " and the surging crowd pours forth With shout triumphal, while " Hosanna ! " still Rings through the air in welcome to a King ! No sound of brazen trumpet racks the ear ; No pomp, no grandeur of an earthly pride ; But meek and lowly — eyes bedewed with tears, The rightful Monarch comes to claim His own ! The dark deep green of Kedron's sunny vale ; The plains of Jericho, in broad expanse 19 2 THE TEAKS OF JESUS. Beyond the Mount of Olives lay ; and far, Far in the distance, stood the purple hills Of Moab, whence the blessing came from one Who would have cursed, but God withheld the voice, And thrice into a blessing turned his words. The city, basking in the glory of That Eastern sky, uplifted proud and high Its stately palaces and gleaming walls, As if in welcome to the gath'ring tribes Fast coming up to keep within its gates The Passover of God. The Temple, with Its more than regal beauty, stood alone, And flashed its golden glory in the light Which bathed its courts and groves with sweet and soft Effulgence. Oh, how bright the scene that lay Before those tear-dimmed eyes ! The busy hum Of preparation for the feast went on, And cloudy pillars of dark smoke rose up To tell of burning sacrifice for sin. The hosts of fair Judea's land had come (As was their custom year by year) to pay Their vows to Israel's God. And Jesus wept ! Where lay the secret of the tears which stained The Face of Him, Whose overflowing Heart Yearned with a mighty love, and such deep, full, And sweet compassion for the chosen ones Of God ? THE TEARS OF JESUS. 21 Their " Day of Visitation " came, And yet they knew it not. Their tithes of mint And anise, and sweet herbs of lesser kind, They paid with strictness, but neglected all The weightier matters of the law, and left The Sacred Temple of their God to be Denied by those who made of righteousness A gain, until their coffers groaned with gold. A den of thieves the House of Prayer was made ; And sin ran riot, while the Priests of God Hushed the Prophetic Voice, and hand joined hand In all forbidden things. The loud-voiced prayers Of Scribe and Pharisee rose up to heaven, While yet they mocked in pride th' Anointed One Who came in such humility, to draw Them back to love and duty,ere the curse All self-imposed, came forth to scatter them Throughout the distant nations of the earth, And leave in ghastly ruin, the one spot To them and to their children all, most dear. And Jesus wept ! 'Tis said He never smiled, In all the years He wandered here, to bind The hearts so broken, cleanse the souls so foul, And heal the sick, sad-hearted, weary ones Who gladly sought His healing touch of love. Rebellious children of the Most High God Flaunted their foul corruption in the face Of heaven, and made God's dwelling place a den Of robbers ! 22 THE TEARS OF JESUS. It was this that made Him weep Those tears of love and pity, as He went To plead yet once again, with those He came To save, ere times should come (now drawing near,) Which brought its scourge of desolation. Once Again He cried, " Jerusalem ! O thou " Who stoned and killed the Prophets in thy rage, " I would have gathered thee as doth the hen " Her tender brood, and made thee all My Own. " Ye would not hear My Voice, and now behold " The curse of desolation on thee rests ! " All, all this goodly pile shall be thrown down, " Nor stone shall be upon another left ! " The flower of thine offspring shall go forth " With by-word, and with hissing, and with curse ! " He wept because He saw that ruin lay In wait, until the time should come wherein All prophecy should be fulfilled, and tears Would take the place of laughing pride and joy With which the city rang in careless glee. And not for these alone. He saw beyond, Far down the track of time, how gathering sin Of generations then unborn, would swell The mighty torrent of the world's full crime. And wash the earth with blood ! He wept ! He wept for sins which then were all unknown ; The woeful sins whose rushing flood poured in THE TEARS OF JESUS. 23 Upon His Heart, until it burst for grief On that dread Cross, whereon His outstretched Arms Would fain have blessed the world, as from a throne ! He wept for us ! And shall our eyes be dry While yet the faithful voice within us, calls To our remembrance all the slighted love Of that great Heart, Who poured in streams of blood A ransom for our souls ? O Earth ! Earth ! Earth ! Why go ye whirling on in mad carouse ! The Mighty Hand, the bleeding Form upon The dripping Cross — High Watch-Tower of the World !— But waits that from this murky vale of death One sign of penitential grief may come To ask the life which He alone can give. O Earth ! turn from thy revel dark and wild, While yet the day of grace is found ! Thy tears Shall win from Him who shed His tears for thee, A Benediction of Eternal Peace ! a '€& Sato $c Ncoer Smilcb." "The Tears of Jesus," by Rev. Dr. Batterson. Sweet Mary — mother, pure and bless'd ! did not " Thy Holy Son catch one bright human smile From thy dear lips ? Did not thy tender eyes And brow " as fair as wheat " call forth the smiles Of filial love to linger on the Man of Sorrow's lips ? The Son of Man was like to us, save sin. Joy, love, and kindness smile ; the blessed seal Of peace, bears the charmed impress of a smile : Jehovah smiles in sunshine, wave and flower, And in the eye-like depths of azure sky. Surely " God with us " such tokens gave, When people " wondered at His gracious words," When His sweet tones of power raised up the sick, When " Maid, arise ! " He said, and health's warm glow Chased Death's gray shadow from her pale cold cheek. When the weeping widow-mother, received Her only son alive, from off the bier, A calm, grave, holy smile assur'dly set In Godhead glory on His lip and brow. Within the quiet home at Bethany A friend's kind smile of gentle sympathy His holy visage must have touched with grace. " Suffer the little ones to come," He said. 24 "'TIS SAID HE NEVER SMILED." 25 Could Hands of blessing press those fair young heads Without a smile upon His loving face ? Ev'n human love in the foul grasp of shame And pain and death, will smile on one's beloved. The cruel cross, the Father's hidden face Sin-burden on a world, which caused His cry, The mighty throes of all our human death, Could not quench the smile of the words of love — " Behold Thy mother ! "— " Woman, behold thy son." M. G. These beautiful lines appeared shortly after the publication of " The Tears of Jesus," and as one would not have them lost, they are printed here. The author is unknown. £l)c JEHsriple 10 not 3Vbouc £)i$ ittastcr. M Called to be Saints ! " This call to all men comes ! And will the soul refuse what it must bear, To win that name which God alone can give ? It came to me when heart and mind were sore And whelmed with pain and grief. I closed my ears And would not hear the gentle call, nor give Response, because my work in life was wrecked. Rude hands had torn away the structure I Had made; and stripped me of all peace, all joy, And in the ashes of my buried hopes I sat to wear away my life in tears, With bitter thoughts of bitter things that come From man to man, and sweep away all faith In saints or sinners, or in any thing. And while I wept, the voice of that sweet prayer — " From lack of charity, from envy, hate And malice, O good Lord deliver us," Fell on my heart with tender, kind rebuke. Oh how my heart did ache, to think of all The misery that this fair world can hold. The cursed voice of hateful slander came: 26 THE DISCIPLE IS NOT ABOVE HIS MASTER. 27 And writhing with the pain, my heart grew faint. The keen and piercing shaft of envy cut Asunder life-long dreams, and hopes so fair ; While hatred, steeped in malice foul, kept watch About the way, with hot desire that one Misstep might come, and so fair fame be made As black as hellish power can make a name. Around the pathway, seeming friends (but false At heart, and filled with treacherous blood), would fawn And cringe and flatter ; waiting only for The hour some willing ear would open wide Its secret chambers, to receive a lie ! The weary round, from morning's golden flush Of light, day after day pursued in search Of troubled and sad-hearted ones ; whose lives A ray of brightness and of joy might gain, Before the night of gloom should bring the end, Found no reward, because unbridled tongues And angry voices loud, turned all the joy Of serving hopeless hearts, to bitterness ; While jealous, wrangling strife sought out each day How best to sting the heart and wound the soul. From this my heart rebelled. I cried aloud Against the cruel, cruel wrong, which came From those best loved. From those to whom my heart Gave strong assurance of a faith in them Which time should ne'er disturb. From those with whom I walked unto the House of God as friends, 28 THE DISCIPLE IS NOT ABOVE HIS MASTER. And sat at meat with confidence that all My love was but an echo of their own. Yet, all along these hearts and tongues were fain To compass sore destruction. One there was Among this crowd of recreant fellow-men ; The one among them all, to whom I gave My love and trust with open heart. Yet he Was chief among the throng of heartless ones Who broke their plighted word, and sapped anon The faith of those who owed me most. I cried In very anguish, at the wrong and hate Which so beset my way ; but all in vain ; Nor tears, nor cries availed to touch one soul Among them all. Shrinking in agony I fled to find some place where I might hide Away from sight and sound of such most foul And shameful words. " Called to be Saints I " Again I heard that voice. It spoke to me and said : "Be still, oh weary child, and in thy woe " See but the Hand of an all-pitying God, " Who sends this Cross, to test thy faith and love. " Take up thy Cross, though heavy it may be, " And wear it bravely for the sake of Him "Who bore His Cross amid the scoffs and jeers " Of those for whom He came in love to die. " Above the Master, none can ever be. THE DISCIPLE IS NOT ABOVE HIS MASTER. 29 " He had a Judas always at His side ; " Who with Him sat at meat from day to day. " Think not to make escape ; one cannot win " The commendation there, of His ' Well done.' " By throwing off the burden He has given ; " And if, with Him to suffer, bring a crown " Of fadeless splendor when the work is done ; " Be strong, and take no heed of all the pain " Which comes from hateful wrath of man. " Look through the storm ; on through the blinding tears, " And see the nail-pierced hands outstretched for thee, " To heal the hurt, and give thee rest and peace. " God will avenge the wrong : 'Vengeance is Mine ' " He truly saith ; so, take Him at His word, " And go thy way, rejoicing that He calls " Thee to His Arms, e'en though the journey thence " Be through the vale of bitterness and tears." " Called to be Saints /" Let this thy watchword be " As true Disciple of the dying Lord, " And He, the King of every saintly soul, " Will take thy burden, when the goal is won, " And give a Crown of everlasting joy." Another voice there was, which gently said : " The Saints are those who can forgive, nor once, " Nor twice, nor thrice ; but seven and seventy times, " And with forgiveness pray, that God would grant 30 THE DISCIPLE IS NOT ABOVE HIS MASTER. " Repentance and a better mind to those " Who do the wrong." My soul responsive cried At last. My sins, my sins, O God forgive, And grant me grace to say : Each wrong I will Forgive, although unasked ; for I would be Forgiven, as I do forgive. Sweet peace Suffused my soul, for I the voice had heard : " The servant is not higher than his Lord ; " And those who would the highest place attain, " Must first begin to take the lowest room." "Called to be Saints!" O trembling souls, be sure The saintly crown can only come from out The cloud and shade of true humility, And that of times, is born of pain and grief. St. Cuke's Church, (Bcrmantoum, Pcunsijhmma. Lines Suggested by the Sermon Preached by the Rt. Rev. Wm. Bacon Stevens, D.D., LL.D., on the Day of Consecration. June 8th, 1876. " This is none other but the House of God, and this is the Gate of Heaven." — Genesis xxviii. 17. The very House of God ! It was one stone Rough and unhewn ; but House of God it was, And there God blessed the builder. And as tenth Of all his increase came from year to year, He laid it down in menvry of the vow- There made. So God did bless him more and more, And made for him a name which standeth yet Memorial of the deed at Bethel done, Wherein he consecrated self to God, And tithe perpetual vowed, of all that He Should give in years to come, to him and his. A thousand miles the river Nile flows on, Unfed by any stream from other source Than its own head. Then, spreading out its arms In loving bounty, covers all the land With fatness, while it feeds with gen'rous hand 3i 32 ST- LUKE'S CHURCH. The swarthy dweller on its swelling banks, As moving onward to the briny sea. A thousand years, and Jacob's faithful sons Together banded, waiting for the time In which should come the promised Shiloh. Then, When He, in majesty and agony Was lifted up to draw the nations out From sin, and death, and darkness to Himself, The types and shadows of His glory passed ; And, pouring forth in bright effulgent streams, Rich blessings flowed from out the holy hill And covered all the earth. 'Twas but one stone, And yet, in very truth, it was Beth-El. So this bright Fane, in its proportions fair ; Its carved and goodly stones ; its Nave and Aisle ; Its gleaming Altar in the eastern wall, Is Bethel too. The painted windows tell The wondrous story of His earthly life, Who came to scatter blessings far and wide So long pent up in Israel's land alone. Here to the generations yet unborn Will stand this bless'd memorial of the faith Of those who, in a faithless age, dared build In thankful homage, and in love to God, A house where He His Name in glory writes; And where — as once in Jacob's time — He stoops To bless the uplifted, consecrated stone. ST. LUKE'S CHURCH. 33 " Not yours, but God's." 'Tis consecrated now, And from this day let none profane its walls, Or claim by right a privilege beyond That one which all men have : — of kneeling here In penitence and prayer, and so to gain The benediction of God's bounteous love ! O God ! the God of Bethel ! come and bless Each faithful soul, who from his penury, Or from his wealth, has made a gift of love Wherewith to build this goodly house to Thee, And so record his faith, and by these stones To tell in future days his trust in God. From desecration keep these holy walls, And bid Thy guardian angels stand within, — As erst of old, above the Mercy Seat, With " wing-veiled face," they stood at Thy command. Bless each and every soul who here is brought With faith and love, and offered up to Thee. Bless old and young : — the gray-haired and the child ; Bring all within the circle of Thy love, And bow each heart obedient to Thy will. Grant, when their earthly labors all are passed, These " gathered in " before the Great White Throne, " Well done," may hear, and entering then The " House not made with hands," — a Bethel still, — May see Thee — God of Glory — face to face ! Cjiuu Docs tl)c ttain Come? A father sat down with his child, one day, As the rain in torrents was pouring ; The child, for the moment, forgot his play, The father, his sorrow and mourning. The father thought of the land far away — Bright home of his love and his treasure : — The child only thought of the sparkling spray, Bright drops without number, or measure. The child with queries soon began, And this the way the questions ran : — CHILD. How does the rain come ? tell me now; How does the rain come ? father — how ? FATHER. How many a time, In ages gone, In prose and rhyme, In speech and song, D'ye think, my child, That question queer Has hours beguiled Of sage and seer? 34 HOW DOES THE RAIN COME ? 35 CHILD. I cannot tell, — but — do — you — know How it can come, and where does go ? FATHER. There ! not so fast My little one ; Two questions asked Ere I've begun To frame my speech How best to say What I would teach My child, alway. CHILD. Well, tell me then, how comes the rain ? — And tell me, please, where't goes again. FATHER. He sends it down Upon the earth, That He may crown Each year's new birth With grape and corn, His child to feed, Lest he, forlorn, Should die for need. CHILD. But who is He, my father dear ? Is He the one you called " the Seer " ? 36 HOW DOES THE RAIN COME:' FATHER. Ah ! no, my child, The seer is wise, But not so wild That from the skies He'd hope to bring The gentle rain That makes earth sing And laugh again. CHILD. Then who is He, from whom the rain Comes pouring o'er the distant plain? FATHER. The God of love, Our Father, too, Whose home above, In sky so blue, We hope to gain For final rest : — He sends the rain The earth to bless. CHILD. Now tell me, father dear, I pray, Where goes the rain ? you did not say ! FATHER. Into the earth The rain will pass, HOW DOES THE RAIN COME? 37 And there give birth To sweetest grass That ever grew ; With roses bright, That give to you Such great delight. CHILD. How do you know ? You cannot see That God so high : — how can it be ? FATHER. My child ! you see, With your bright eye, The grass and tree : So do not try To "find out God":— The eye He made, He made the sod, And tender blade Of corn, so fresh and green ; the bright, Sweet daisies, in the meadow wild, He made : — and stars that shine by night, Upon the head of my dear child. CHILD. But some have said, (So I have read,) " There is no God," " Why fear his rod ? " 38 HOW DOES THE RAIN COME ? FATHER. Can you tell me who made the eye ? Can you tell me who made the ear ? If so, to find out God now try : — If not, then wait in love and fear. Trust God, my son ! Mind not the " fools " Who now have won In learned schools, The wondrous power Of " guessing," what In the next hour May be forgot. When they can tell What " matter " is, It may be well For them to quiz About the things Beyond man's brain, And tell who brings The summer rain ! They cannot tell how grapes do grow, Nor how the grass on this fair sod : If what they see, they do not know, What wonder, that they " know not God ! " Stye ^nstuerefc prager. I stood where the broad-waved Atlantic was rolling In lazy blue billows afar ; And on the gray beach a fair maiden was strolling, Her eyes shining bright as a star. Her fair auburn tresses like gold in the sunlight She flung to the soft summer breeze, And watched by the waters until the pale starlight Fell down through the storm-beaten trees. 'o 1 With a sigh she turned her sweet face in the gloaming, And looked up a prayer to the sky ; No word passed her lips, but she prayed for one roaming O'er waters so far, yet so nigh. Up rose the strong breakers in beauty now dancing, Each bright-crested wave flying fast ! While out in the distance, like wild horses prancing, The billows by furies seemed lashed. Unnoticed till now, a black storm-cloud was drifting Across the clear face of the sky ; And the maiden in fear, her eyes now uplifting, With a short and tremulous cry, Clasped her hands to her breast, and suddenly stoop- ing, 39 4 o THE ANSWERED PR A YER. In a loud and piteous wail Shot quick o'er the surf-crests, so madly now trooping, A searching wild look of appeal. Then down on her knees, where the wild waters dash- As if in assertion of might, Swept o'er the white sands, with tumult and clashing, A beautiful, terrible sight. She prayed : " Oh, my Father, my Father, now hear- ing, Turn not Thou away from my plea ; Oh, save from the storm of wild waters uprearing, And bring Thou my loved one to me." Dark hung the black cloud o'er the face of old ocean Wild shrieked the fierce winds of the night ; Madly surged the dark waves in wildest commotion— The lightning's hot flashes of light, Far out in the darkness a white sail revealing, Filled with terror the kneeling form. *& She moved not, she wept not, but still her appealing Went up to the God of the storm : " Oh, Father, my Father, list now to my crying, Oh, Father, my Father, I pray ; Oh, Father, my Father," the maiden is crying. " My Father," was all she could say, In the tempest that now at its height was raging And beating so madly the shore ; THE ANSWERED PRAYER. 41 While back from the headland all blindly engaging Tempest answered to tempest its roar. Far out in the darkness the lone sail was straining, The lightning's red glare for a guide, And on the torn beach, the maiden remaining Alone in her fear and her pride. Faith and love in her heart so strongly abiding, She hears not the pitiless blast ; She thinks of nought else save the boat that is riding O'er billows and breakers so fast. Now upward, now downward, the loved bark is leaping, While onward, still onward it rides, Still trembling, the maiden her love-watch is keeping, And faith in her God still abides. " My Father, my Father, my treasure is bringing In safety across the wild sea ; Through danger and darkness the tempest is bringing My darling with spirit so free." Oh, maiden ! fair maiden ! list now to the roaring Of winds, o'er the sea and o'er land ; Oh, where is the voice that so lately upsoaring Brought strength from the Merciful Hand ? Thy prayer will be answered ; the storm is now bring- ing Thy lover across the wild sea ; But never again will his strong arms be clinging As of old, in love unto thee. 42 THE ANSWERED PRAYER. One terrible wave of the sea in its foaming Came lashing the shore in its wrath ; One terrible crash of the thunder's loud groaning Came quick in the red lightning's path ; And the maiden lay dead, with the wild waves singing The answer so quick to her prayer, And the lover lay dead — new life was beginning For lover and maiden so fair. (Stcrnitn, Is it far off ? In ages yet to be ? Come time, and time, before we see This stranger thing, to which we bow ? Oh, man ! Eternity is now ? 3i Styreno&Q. Down, Down, Down, Down in thy depths, O Sea ! A strong, brave soul has gone to his rest The pitiless waters claim the best, Nor heed my sorrowful plea. Weep, Weep, Weep, Weep for my dead, O Sea ! The mist of thy tears, a winding-sheet, Hiding the place where the waters meet, To cover my dead, O Sea ! Moan, Moan, Moan, Moan for my dead, O Sea ! Thy sparkling waters in beauty sleep, While I sit me down and vigil keep, For the love thou hast torn from me. Wail, Wail, Wail, Wail for my dead, O Sea ! Thy rolling waters, in sullen surge, Seem singing a sad and sorrowful dirge, For the lov'd one buried in thee. 43 "(One fiunkei) tkass ^Vqo." "In Congress, June 14, 1777. — Ordered : That the flag of the thirteen United States be thirteen stripes, alternate red and white; that the union be thirteen stars, white, in a blue field." One hundred years ago to-day, The standard of our nation's birth Was spread, to bless with freedom's ray The fairest part of all the earth. With lusty shout They threw it out, One hundred years ago. Fling out the dear old flag to-day ! O'er land and sea throw up the stars, Whose glory-flash lit up the way Through which our brave young sons of Mars Defiance flung And vict'ry wrung, One hundred years ago ! The stripes in all their beauty fling ! On ev'ry hill-top let them wave ! In ringing chorus, we will sing The triumphs of those heroes brave, Who won their scars, Beneath those stars, One hundred years ago ! 44 "ONE HUNDRED YEARS AGO." 45 The Stars and Stripes in glory float ! Their silent grandeur tells the tale Of purpose true, in those who wrote, "Our cause is just and cannot fail," And like a flood, Poured out their blood, One hundred years ago ! From North and South, from East and West, Brave, loyal hearts their beauty greet ! Beneath yon folds, shall freedom rest, And brothers there in union meet, The cause to save, Of men so brave, One hundred years ago ! Philadelphia, June 14, 1887. % Pcnnsgtoania. THE PRAYER OF HER LOYAL SONS. Sung at the opening exercises, Pennsylvania Day, at the Cen- tennial Exposition, September 28, 1876, by 8000 voices. Great God ! our Father, hear ; Lend now Thy gracious ear ; To Thee we pray : — Give of Thy bounteous grace ; Bless of mankind each race ; Let all Thy goodness trace, In life's dark way. Great God ! our Father, hear; Teach us Thy Name to fear, In holy dread : Make wars and strife to cease ; Oh give perpetual peace ; So earth shall yield increase Of "daily bread." Great God ! our Father, hear ; Guide all, both far and near, In our dear land : 46 PENNSYLVANIA. 47 In union, strength to find ; One, both in heart and mind ; O God ! Thy people bind In love's strong band. Great God ! our Father, hear : While for our country dear We wait and pray : Guard from invading foe ; Keep from intestine woe ; Some good, for " token" show; Thy love display. Great God ! our Father, hear ; As suppliants we appear Before Thy Throne : Let not the foot of pride Come near us to abide ; Be Thou our earthly guide, And lead us home. Great. God ! our Father, hear; Make Thou our pathway clear With heavenly light : Bless Thou our beauteous land, While we as brothers stand, In union firm and grand, To guard the right ! Cong, Cong ^Vga Hark ! 'tis the ring of the merry sleigh bells ! Over the hills and down through the dells, With the speed of the hind or the bounding deer, Onward they go, with a ringing cheer — Where the light falls whitest. Where the stars shine brightest, Where the snow lies cleanest, Where the frost bites keenest. Over the hills and down through the dells, List to the ring of the tinkling bells ! See where the flash of the glittering steel Follows the track of the coursing heel, On rivers of glass, in the dancing light, Where eyes of lovers are sparkling bright ; Where the ice grows strongest, Where the moon stays longest, Where the hearts beat lightest, Where the eyes shine brightest ; There is the track of the coursing heel Lit by the flash of the burnished steel ! I hear them again, as the years go past, Blithesome and gay in the winter's blast ; The clattering footsteps come and go, With a swift light tread on the glist'ning snow ; 48 LONG, LONG AGO. 49 Where the heart is boldest, Where the love is oldest, Where the faith is newest, Where the trust is truest ; They come again, in the wintry blast, And sing of days — the days that are past. And the white cottage down under the hill, The light in the window guiding still ; As I turn me back from the giddy whirl, To stop and look for a shining curl ; Where the throng is thickest, Where the heart beats quickest, Where the love holds strongest, Where the days seem longest — Ah ! never again, as guide to me, Will flashing light in that window be ! ©mru. Will you love me, when I am old And shadows dim the sky ; When hairs are gray, that now are gold, And beauty's charms shall die ? Will love hold strong, when health shall fail, And laughter turns to tears ; When blushing face grows wan and pale With life's declining years ? Will love's quick vow, hold good in days When want, stands at the door ? Will tender words, and gentle lays Flow on, forevermore ? Will love's warm day, so fair and bright, Be clear, till eventide ? Will faith and hope light up the night Where storms of sorrow ride ? All seems most fair and bright to-day, Above — a cloudless sky : But storms will come, and clouds will stay, The day itself — will die ! 5° QUERY. 51 Then love me, dear, when I am old, "Till death us both doth part," And love for you, shall ne'er grow old, Nor fail my trusting heart. Stye Moon. Fair Sister of the Sun ! Thy light So brightly falls, it seems not night, But night it is, wherein, wherein, Are sorrow, misery — and sin. <£l)at DDmnttJ .finger. Its tip, across the eye, shuts out the world. Now, pointing on with quiv'ring rage, to warn Approach of yon poor fallen one, it shows The length, the breadth, the height, the depth of scorn. ®l)e Beautiful Sea, I love the sea, the stormy sea, Where billows break and winds blow free ; I love, I love the boiling foam, When safe from all its pranks — at hofiie / I love the tide, the rolling tide, Where " big white horses " madly ride ; I love the mountain waves so grand, When I am safely on the /ana 7 / I love, oh, how I love the view Which distance lends enchantment to ! I love the sea — as said before, But best — when standing on the shore / 52 JDmsn's €at Our little Daisy had a cat — A playful, frisky thing, That used to lie upon a mat, And hear our Daisy sing. He was a very funny cat, With bright and sparkling eyes, That never saw a thieving rat : — Oh ! he was wondrous wise ! He'd lie all day in the warm sun, And lick his velvet paws : But after mice he'd never run, Nor show them his sharp claws. He loved to ride with Daisy's doll, Wrapped up in blankets thick : — It was such fun for one and all, We called him " quite a brick." One day our cat was very sick, And ran away to hide : His little paws he could not lick, And so he — " up and died." 53 54 DAISY'S CAT. Dear Daisy was so very sad, She cried her eyes quite red : She felt so " very, very bad " " Because her cat was dead." We buried him with honours great, And left him in repose, With one great stone above his pate, And on his breast, a rose. But Daisy child was sick with grief, No comfort could she get ; 'Till flowers were stripped of every leaf, To cover her sweet pet. Moral. Now children all, mind what I say, And look well to your cats ; For if they nothing do but play, They'll die, and leave to you — The Rats ! jFortj^tne. The time it comes, the time it goes, The time flies fast away, And like a river, on it flows : — I'm Forty-nine to-day. The time it never stops for me, Nor any one, they say ; That it has gone, 'tis plain to see : — I'm Forty-nine to-day. I was a merry, blithesome lad, So full of fun and play, My elders sometimes thought me mad :- I'm Forty-nine to-day. My youth to manhood grew so soon I'd scarcely left my play ; E'er I had passed to life's "high-noon" I'm Forty-nine to-day. Old Time has left upon my head His mark — so thin and gray ; I wonder me where he has fled — I'm Forty-nine to-day. 55 56 FORTY-NINE. The task that duty laid on me Has not been done alway ; " It might have been " — I plainly see : — I'm Forty-nine to-day. I've many friends, both good and true, To greet me on my way, I'll treasure them, nor seek for new : — I'm Forty-nine to-day. The world will give me friends by scores, If court to it I pay ; If not, it wrath and hatred pours : — I'm Forty-nine to-day. I thank the world for what it taught If I would it obey, Though 'twas a lesson dearly bought : — I'm Forty-nine to-day. " Put not your trust in child of man," Is counsel good, I say, " Trust none but God " — is wisdom's plan I'm Forty-nine to-day. Now, counting up the mercies past, Far on in life's highway, I thank my God for love so vast : — I'm Forty-nine to-day. My own true wife ! To you I bring This simple, foolish lay : Your many virtues I will sing : — I'm Forty-nine to day. £o ittr. Uicharb £. Burton.* How few can understand ! The poet's heart Responds with tender sympathy, and feels A throb of kinship in those words, so full Of meaning that it cannot be expressed. The chattering crowd rush here and there, in the Sweet days of June, but see in them no sign Of that great tenderness which fills true hearts To bursting, with the clear full gladness of Those glorious hours. The jewel resting in The bluebell's heart is nothing more to these Than other water-drop on leaf or grass Or flower. These cannot see how teeming Earth Is full of light and love and joy. The Sun, Whose first bright rays tips all the hills with gold, And turns to burnished silver all the lakes, The rivers and the rippling rills, is naught but " Oft returning day," in which to toil and Moil for riches which they heap on heap, And know not who shall gather them. * Author of an exquisite poem with the title, " Dumb in June." 57 58 TO MR. RICHARD E. BURTON. The eye Of a true poet sees into the depths Of all this fresh, new life ; and he is " dumb " Because all language fails him to tell out The glad'ning thoughts which fill his o'ercharged heart. And so we're " dumb in June," because we feel The presence of a Father's eye, whose love Brings back to man in Resurrection power New bud, and leaf, and flower ; an earnest of " Full corn in ear." by which He satisfies His hungry child, and fills his heart with joy. O Poet-heart ! 'Tis well that thou art " dumb ! " One cannot speak who knows that God is near — And God is telling all mankind in June Of His great love and gracious tenderness. $0 ittg JBotljer: ON HER SEVENTY-SIXTH BIRTHDAY. Ah, Mother mine, how turns my heart to thee, As years speed onward to life's mournful end ; How full with tears mine eyes, that now can see Naught else but failure, both of fame and friend. The morning when I turned my back on thee To face the world, that seemed to me so bright ; My purpose true ; my heart so full of glee ; I reck'd not, went before so dark a night. How turned mine eyes for one last look of home, As o'er the hill I sped me, fast away; How little thought, with heart so like a stone, That thou wast turning back, for me to pray. How bright the glory of that shining morn ! What dreams of future conquest I had made ! Ah, well for me I knew not of the storm That soon would crush the vision there displayed. 59 60 TO MY MOTHER. In happy days, how thickly trooped the friends To greet me with their smiles and words of cheer ! How each did watchful, and with care attend To share my joys, and quench all thought of fear ! But trouble with its chilling blast came on, To sweep before it fortune, home, and fame ; And like the morning dew, my friends were gone, Forgetting (yes ! it may be !) e'en my name. How true it is, — " this life is but a dream !" At best, I found it but " an empty show;" While struggling vainly onward 'gainst the stream, I strove to hide with smiles my heartfelt woe. Oh, friendship ! false and fickle, — yet how fair 1 But love there is no sorrow can assail : — Though life may be a long and fretting care, A Mother's love will never, never fail. Ah, Mother dear, what love more true than thine? It knows no waning, falt'ring, nor decay; In darkest hours it ever has been mine, Beams on me now, a bright and endless day ! God bless thee, Mother mine, for thy strong love ; God bring thee safely to His rest at last ; God give to thee the looked-for home above, When earthly duties, sorrows, all are passed ! <2fo a fab]) on l)cr G7tl) JBirtljoaj), My dear, kind friend ! you pass to-day, Another mile-stone, grim and gray, That points you o'er the world's highway To God. Another year of joys and cares, In which " our Father's " love prepares Your soul for Him, — and still He spares His rod. The busy world is rushing on, Nor thinks nor cares for days once gone, If only wealth it heaps, upon A clod. It heeds not age, it heeds not youth, Nor knows of love, nor cares for truth ; It only makes of gold — forsooth ! A God. A work-day world ! its anxious face Knows naught of mercy, nor of grace ; But onward, in a feverish race To plod. 61 62 TO A LADY. You know it well ! its smiles, its tears, Have followed you these weary years. And its reward ? What now appears ? A sod. Look onward to that shining band, Beyond earth's false and shifting sand, Where rest is found, in Holy Land, With God. ®a a Cab|) ON HER SEVENTY-NINTH BIRTHDAY. Though threescore years and ten are gain, No cup of sorrow fails ; The loved ones go and we remain, Nor love nor tear avails. No pleading stops the flight of years, Nor can we buy delay ; Death heeds not sorrow, laughs at fears, And mocks us while we pray. We cannot stop the ebb and flow Of ocean's rolling tide ; Nor will the years that onward go One hour, for us, abide. The silver threads, now gathering fast, Tell of these passing years ; While we look vainly to the past Through hot and blinding tears. Look forward, upward, to the light Where God in mercy gives An endless day for earth's dark night, A love that ever lives. 63 64 TO A LADY. The past, with all its fond regrets, Leave in the Father's Hand ; The promise His ! — He ne'er forgets — A brighter, better land ! £o