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 Hymns and Poems. 
 
 By 
 
 A. L. 0. li., 
 
 Author of " The Triumph over Midian," " Rescued from Egypt, 
 " The Shepherd of Bethlehem" &>c, £ 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 T. NELSON AND SONS, PATERNOSTER ROW ; 
 
 EDINBURGH ; AND NEW YORK. 
 
 1868.
 
 PR 
 4000 
 
 f\\\°5 1 
 
 F there be any distinctive peculiarity in 
 this little volume, it is one that would 
 naturally expose it to literary censure ; 
 the verses are very unequal, some of the hymns 
 are avowedly written for the very poor. To admit 
 rhymes for ragged children, needlewomen, and 
 paupers into a book of sacred song, may — in the 
 opinion of some critics — deprive it of all claim to 
 the name of poetry. Yet I venture to hope that 
 those who love to labour in God's vineyard, will 
 not be sorry to bear to their poorer brethren verses 
 intended to meet their peculiar trials, and cheer 
 them under their peculiar sorrows ; while the sub- 
 jects of many of the hymns are such as are of 
 
 822213
 
 VI PREFACE. 
 
 equal interest to the prince as to the peasant. 
 Humbly I commend my little work to Him whose 
 blessing can alone make it useful in strengthening 
 the tempted, in cheering the sad, or in lifting up 
 the hearts of the happy in joyful adoration ami 
 praise. 
 
 A. L. O. E.
 
 
 
 -•i-^i \ :■■ 
 
 HYMNS. 
 
 The Willing Sacrifice, 
 
 The Resurrection, 
 
 Hymn for the Communion, 
 
 The Beacon, 
 
 The Blossoming Rod, 
 
 Hymn for the Penitent Convict. 
 
 Hymn for the Blind, 
 
 The House not made with Hands, 
 
 Sexton's Hymn, 
 
 The Second Advent. . . 
 
 Hopes that Abide, 
 
 Soldier's Hymn, 
 
 Hymn for Night, 
 
 Song of Joy, 
 
 The Retrospect. 
 
 The Supplicant, 
 
 Weaver's Hymn, 
 
 Emigrant's Hymn, .. 
 
 Fishermen's Hymn, .. 
 
 Teacher's Hymn. 
 
 Workman's Hymn, 
 
 Sempstress's Hymn, . . 
 
 Ragged Boy's Hymn, 
 
 Ragged Girl's Hymn, 
 
 ii 
 
 13 
 15 
 t6 
 j8 
 21 
 
 23 
 
 25 
 27 
 29 
 
 3 1 
 32 
 34 
 35 
 37 
 39 
 41 
 43 
 45 
 47 
 49 
 51 
 53 
 55
 
 vm 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Policeman's Hymn, .. 
 
 
 
 
 57 
 
 Pauper's Hymn, 
 
 
 
 
 59 
 
 Postman's Hymn, 
 
 
 
 
 61 
 
 Servant's Hymn, 
 
 
 
 
 63 
 
 Miner's Hymn, 
 
 
 
 
 • 65 
 
 Gardener's Hymn, 
 
 
 
 
 • 67 
 
 Labourer's Hymn, 
 
 
 
 
 69 
 
 Wife's Hymn, 
 
 
 
 
 71 
 
 Hymn of Industry, .. 
 
 
 
 
 73 
 
 Social Hymn, 
 
 
 
 
 75 
 
 National Hymn, 
 
 
 
 
 77 
 
 Soldier's Hymn, 
 
 
 
 
 79 
 
 The Wise Men from the East, 
 
 
 
 
 81 
 
 Song of Hope, 
 
 
 
 
 8 S 
 
 The Fearful Heart, 
 
 
 
 
 88 
 
 Conviction of Sin, 
 
 
 
 
 go 
 
 The Sacred Guest, 
 
 
 
 
 92 
 
 The Mourner, 
 
 
 
 
 95 
 
 The Christian Bond, 
 
 
 
 
 97 
 
 The Cure at Gethsemane, 
 
 
 
 
 100 
 
 Hymn for the Communion, 
 
 
 
 
 102 
 
 Hymn for the Dying, 
 
 
 
 
 104 
 
 Death is not Dreadful, 
 
 
 
 
 106 
 
 Never Forsaken, 
 
 
 
 
 109 
 
 Thy Father's Friend, 
 
 
 
 
 1 11 
 
 Fear of God and Fear of Man, 
 
 
 
 
 113 
 
 The Sinners' Portion, 
 
 
 
 
 "5 
 
 Death-Bed Hymn, 
 
 
 
 
 117 
 
 Save One ! . . 
 
 
 
 
 I IV 
 
 New Year's Hymn, 
 
 
 
 
 121 
 
 POEM 
 
 S. 
 
 
 
 
 The Indian Maid, 
 
 Blanche, 
 
 Pride, 
 
 A Dream of the Second Advent, 
 
 125 
 136 
 
 '49 
 153
 
 THE WILLING SACRIFICE. 
 
 HE precious blood of Christ my 
 Lord, 
 The Saviour all-divine, 
 Was shed to cleanse men's souls from guilt; 
 
 That blood has flowed for mine ! 
 But what return can sinners make 
 
 For love so great, so free? 
 All is too little, oh ! my God, 
 To sacrifice to Thee. 
 
 If all that I possessed on earth, 
 
 Before thy feet were laid, 
 Light as the dust the gift would prove 
 
 In heaven's balance weighed. 
 The costly treasures of the skies 
 
 Thou didst resign for me ; 
 All is too little, oh ! my God, 
 
 To sacrifice to Thee.
 
 12 THE WILLING SACRIFICE. 
 
 But Thou wilt not disdain a heart 
 
 That would Thy word obey, 
 That loves to own the mighty debt 
 
 1 1 never hopes to pay. 
 For were each hair upon my head 
 
 A separate life to be,' 
 All were too little, oh ! my God, 
 
 To sacrifice to Thee. 
 
 * Tlie expression used by one who now rests in Clin- 1.
 
 II. 
 
 THE RESURRECTION. 
 
 [HE Summer blossoms fast decay 
 Beneath the Autumn's chilling breath, 
 And man is passing thus away, 
 Touched by the silent hand of Death. 
 Still fading — falling — day by day 
 
 The withered petals strew the plain, 
 They never more shall deck the spray- 
 But man shall rise again ! 
 
 Behold the bare and leafless tree 
 
 Blushes in spring to beauty bright ; 
 Where the dark root was buried — see 
 
 Tfcte eager floweret springs to light ! 
 The sun his gentle influence shed 
 
 To break cold winter's icy chain — 
 So God shall wake us from the dead, 
 
 We all shall rise again !
 
 14 THE RESURRECTION. 
 
 As beauteous day succeeds to night, 
 
 So glory dawns upon the grave — 
 Praise to the Sun oflife and light, 
 
 Who lived to bless, and died to save ! 
 We calmly gaze on life's dark close, 
 
 The tomb shall not our forms retain — 
 E'en as our God and Saviour rose 
 
 His own shall rise again !
 
 III. 
 
 HYMN FOR THE COMMUNION. 
 
 DO not dare, O holy Lord, 
 
 Approach Thy sacred shrine 
 Trusting in mine own righteousness, 
 For nought but sins are mine, 
 But in the merits of Thy Son, 
 The Saviour all-divine. 
 
 Unworthy as I own I am 
 
 Christ's feast of love to share, 
 In His name hear my humble cry. 
 
 For His sake grant my prayer, 
 And let Thy mercy cleanse my soul, 
 
 And shed Thy Spirit there ! 
 
 Oh, make me one with my dear Lord 
 
 In His appointed rite, 
 A branch of the Eternal Vine 
 
 Not fruitless in His sight; 
 His own on earth, His own in heaven . 
 
 Through ages infinite!
 
 IV. 
 
 THE BEACON. 
 
 | HEN shades of night around him close, 
 The lighthouse guard has charge to 
 keep, 
 
 And trim the beacon-fire, which glows 
 Like a red star above the deep. 
 Still calm and bright 
 Must shine that light 
 That guides the seaman on his way, 
 Till morning gleam 
 And lighthouse beam 
 Fade in the rosy blush of day. 
 
 Like charge is to the Christian given 
 
 In grief or joy, in storm or strife, 
 To glorify the God of heaven 
 Both by his lips and by his life. 
 Still pure and bright 
 Must shine his light, 
 
 (171)
 
 171 
 
 THE BEACON. 17 
 
 And shed around a holy ray, 
 
 A flame of love 
 
 Lit from above, 
 And shining on to perfect day. 
 
 Pride, discontent, mistrustful fear, 
 Too oft, alas ! the beacon hide; 
 The sinner must be humbled here 
 That Jesus may be glorified. 
 
 So pure and bright 
 
 Shall shine his light, 
 To other hearts a beam convey, 
 
 A flame of love 
 
 Lit from above, 
 Still shining on to perfect day. 
 
 Lord, feed our lamps with heavenly grace, 
 
 And let them to Thy glory shine, 
 Nor let our weakness e'er disgrace 
 The holy faith which seals us Thine ! 
 
 Then pure and bright 
 
 Shall shine our light, 
 Our heavenly Father's grace display, 
 
 A flame of love 
 
 Lit from above, 
 Still shining on to perfect day ! 
 
 2
 
 V. 
 
 THE BLOSSOMING ROD. 
 
 j|N angel of comfort from heaven sped — 
 All nature brightened as he drew near 
 Where a poor man toiled in his lowly shed 
 And thanked the Lord for his scanty bread ; 
 The angel breathed in the Christian's ear, 
 " Thy God beholds, and will not forget ; 
 Have patience — the rod will blossom yet !" 
 
 He spread his pinions, then paused again 
 
 Where prayer from a sick man's couch was heard; 
 
 In weary weakness, in restless pain, 
 
 For tedious months had the sufferer lain, 
 
 But his pale face beamed at the whispered word : 
 
 "Thy God beholds, and will not forget; 
 
 Have patience — the rod will blossom yet ! " 
 
 Then the angel flew where a mother prayed 
 For a son on a course of evil bent ;
 
 THE BLOSSOM 1XG ROD. 19 
 
 She wept — half trustful and half afraid. 
 Beseeching Him who alone could aid ; 
 
 And to her was the message of comfort sent — 
 " Thy God beholds, and will not forget ; 
 Have patience — the rod will blossom yet ! " 
 
 With cares depressed, and with trials worn, 
 
 A persecuted believer knelt; 
 With drooping heart she had meekly borne 
 The unkind taunt and the look of scorn, 
 
 Till the angel's smile was like sunshine felt. 
 " Thy God beholds, and will not forget; 
 Have patience — the rod will blossom yet ! " 
 
 Then the seraph hovered where death had been, 
 
 In its little coffin an infant lay ; 
 The parents wept, but a calm serene 
 Stole over their souls, as a hand unseen 
 
 Gently wiped the trickling tears away. 
 " Your God beholds, and will not forget ; 
 Your bud shall blossom in glory yet ! " 
 
 Happy such to whom griefs come not in vain, 
 
 Though afflictions bow, or the world contemn, 
 Thrice blest in sorrow, thrice blest in pain,
 
 20 THE BLOSSOMING ROD. 
 
 Reproach is honour, and loss is gain, 
 
 For the angel of peace shall visit them- 
 Their God beholds, and will not forget ; 
 Their rod shall blossom in glory yet !
 
 AT. 
 
 HYMN FOR THE PENITENT CONVICT, 
 
 DARE not raise my guilty eye 
 The gaze of man to meet, 
 A helpless sentenced wretch I lie. 
 Lord Jesus ! at Thy feet. 
 Too justly scorned by all beside, 
 
 I trembling come to Thee ; 
 If Thou for chief of sinners died, 
 Is there not hope for me? 
 
 The dying thief in torments hung 
 
 While sinners scoffed around ; 
 With feeble breath and faltering tongue 
 
 He mercy sought — and found. 
 There flowed before his eyesight dim 
 
 The blood which made him free ; 
 If Jesus heard and pitied him 
 
 Is there not hope for me 1
 
 22 HYMN FOR THE PENITENT CONVICT. 
 
 The weeping prodigal returned 
 
 His father's house to seek; 
 His supplication was not spurned — 
 
 Love still could welcome speak. 
 Like him, in grief and penitence, 
 
 To mercy's door I flee, 
 
 Father, wilt thou spurn me thence ; 
 Is there not hope for me? 
 
 Yes, there is hope ! while He, once crowned 
 With thorns, now pleads in heaven, 
 
 Rejoices o'er the lost one found, 
 The wanderer forgiven ; 
 
 To those who mourn and turn from sin 
 He offers mercy free ; 
 
 1 feel another life begin — 
 
 There yet is hope for me !
 
 VII. 
 
 HYMN FOR THE BLIND. 
 
 CANNOT see the sunny gleam 
 
 Which gladdens every eye but mine, 
 But I can feel the warming beam. 
 And bless the God who made it shine. 
 O Lord, each murmuring thought control, 
 
 Let no repining tear-drop fall, 
 Pour holy light upon my soul, 
 That I may own Thy love in all ! 
 
 I cannot see the flow'rets blow, 
 
 All sparkling from the summer showers, 
 But I can breathe their sweet perfume, 
 
 And bless the God who made the flowers. 
 O Lord, each murmuring thought control, 
 
 Let no repining tear-drop fall, 
 Pour holy light upon my soul, 
 
 That I may own Thy love in all !
 
 24 HYMN FOR THE BLIND. 
 
 I i annot see the pages where 
 
 Thy holy will is written, Lord ; 
 But I can .seek Thy house of prayer, 
 
 And humbly listen to Thy word, 
 Which bears my thoughts to that bright place 
 
 Where I at Thy dear feet may fall, 
 Behold my Saviour face to face, 
 
 And see and own His love in all !
 
 VIII. 
 
 THE HOUSE NOT MADE "WITH HANDS. 
 
 jHE stately mansion riseth beneath the 
 builder's hand, 
 When our children sleep in dust that 
 mansion still may stand ; 
 But a nobler and more lasting dwelling to the saints 
 
 is given, 
 In a house not made with hands, eternal in the 
 Heaven. 
 
 The poor in spirit and the meek, the merciful and 
 
 pure, 
 On them the Saviour blessings breathed, for ever 
 
 to endure ; 
 Those persecuted for His sake, from friends or 
 
 kindred driven, 
 Share a house not made with hands, eternal in the 
 
 Heaven.
 
 26 THE HOUSE NOT MADE 117 77/ HANDS. 
 
 And those who deeply mourn their sins shall find 
 
 there yet is room, 
 For such the Lord endured the cross, descended to 
 
 the tomb : 
 He ready stands to welcome those whose contrite 
 
 hearts are riven, 
 To a house not made with hands, eternal in the 
 
 Heaven. 
 
 What matter, then, how lowly be the roof above our 
 
 head, 
 What matter then how soon the stranger o'er our 
 
 graves may tread, 
 If we are pressing on with hearts renewed and sins 
 
 forgiven, 
 To a house not made with hands, eternal in the 
 
 Heaven !
 
 IX. 
 
 SEXTON'S HYMN. 
 
 VE laid the earth above the child 
 Whose life was but a summer's day; 
 I knew that God, in mercy mild, 
 Had called his happy soul away. 
 Then wherefore weep 
 O'er those who sleep 1 
 Their precious dust the Lord will keep, 
 Till He appear 
 In glory here, 
 The harvest of the earth to reap. 
 
 I've laid the earth above the youth 
 
 Whose early days to God were given, 
 Whose end bore witness to this truth, 
 None die too soon who live for Heaven ! 
 Then wherefore weep 
 O'er those who sleep I
 
 28 SliXTON'S HYMN. 
 
 Their precious dust the Lord will keep, 
 
 Till He appear 
 
 In glory here, 
 The harvest of the earth to reap. 
 
 I've laid the earth o'er reverend age, 
 
 Whose hoary hairs were glory's crown, 
 The saint had closed his pilgrimage, 
 And gently laid life's burden down. 
 
 Then wherefore weep 
 
 O'er those who sleep I 
 Their precious dust the Lord will keep, 
 
 Till He appear 
 
 In glory here, 
 The harvest of the earth to reap. 
 
 And soon the earth will close o'er me, 
 
 Yet mourn I not my life's decline, 
 Lord ! pardoned — ransomed — saved by Thee, 
 Living or dying — I am Thine ! 
 
 Oh ! wherefore sigh 
 
 For those who die 
 In Christ? the forms that mouldering lie 
 
 Shall burst the sod 
 
 To meet their God, 
 And mount with seraph wings on high !
 
 X. 
 
 THE SECOND ADVENT. 
 
 OW in the East Hope's trembling light 
 Proclaims a brighter dawning, 
 Though woe endureth for a night, 
 Joy cometh in the morning. 
 
 For many weary ages past 
 
 Hath sin's dark night prevailing, 
 A gloom o'er all the nations cast, 
 
 Whence rose the sound of wailing. 
 The idol-gods have many a shrine 
 
 Where, bound in chains of error, 
 Myriads shut out from light divine 
 
 Crouch down in shame and terror. 
 But in the East Hope's rosy light 
 
 Proclaims a brighter dawning ; 
 Though woe endureth for a night, 
 
 Joy cometh in the morning. 
 
 Pleasure has thrown her torches' glare 
 Upon a world benighted,
 
 THE SECOND ADVENT. 
 
 And Science in the murky air 
 
 Her glimmering tapers lighted ; 
 Some joys, like fireflies, played and glanced 
 
 To mock our vain pursuing, 
 And Folly's meteors wildly danced 
 
 Above the gulf of ruin ! 
 But in the East Hope's purer light 
 
 Proclaims a brighter dawning ; 
 Though woe endureth for a night, 
 
 Joy cometh in the morning ! 
 
 Like Cynthia from her silver car, 
 
 The Church could darkness brighten ; 
 Each high example, like a star, 
 
 Shone forth to cheer and lighten. 
 But I shall need nor star nor moon 
 
 In that clear day before me, 
 The Sun of Righteousness shall soon 
 
 Burst forth in cloudless glory ! 
 Yes, in the East Hope's kindling light 
 
 Proclaims a brighter dawning ; 
 Though woe endureth for a night, 
 
 Joy cometh in the morning !
 
 XI. 
 
 HOPES THAT ABIDE. 
 
 |ARTH'S bright hopes must fade, 
 Not those which grace hath given; 
 Joys were fleeting made, 
 But not the joys of Heaven ! 
 Stars that shine above, 
 
 And flowers that cannot wither, 
 These are types of peace and love 
 That shall abide for ever. 
 
 Who that seeks the skies 
 
 Would mourn earth's pleasures blighted, 
 Weep o'er broken ties 
 
 Soon to be re-united 1 
 Blest e'en awhile to be 
 
 In darkness and in sorrow, 
 Assured we soon the dawn shall see 
 
 Of an eternal morrow !
 
 XII. 
 
 SOLDIER'S HYMN. 
 
 1HERE is a sword of glittering sheen, — 
 All unite to defend the right ! 
 Its blade is bright and its edge is keen, 
 But the wound it gives is a wound unseen, — 
 And who would flinch in the glorious fight ! 
 
 There is a foe — a ruthless foe- 
 Such unite to oppose the right ; 
 In secret ambush he croucheth low, 
 And the blow he strikes is a deadly blow,— 
 But flinch not we in the glorious fight ! 
 
 There is a banner floating wide, — 
 
 All unite to defend the right ! 
 The blood of martyrs its folds has dyed, 
 When the best and bravest fought side by side, — 
 
 'Who would not flinch in the glorious fight '
 
 SOLDIER'S HYMN. H 
 
 There is a Leader exalted high, — 
 
 All unite to defend the right ! 
 Through Him His followers hosts defy, 
 Through Him they learn to do and to die, 
 
 And scorn to flinch in the glorious fight ! 
 
 There is a palm — a victor's palm, — 
 
 All unite to defend the right ! 
 'Twill be given in realms of peace and calm 
 To the steadfast spirit, the stalwart arm, 
 
 That never flinched in the glorious fight. 
 
 Then shall lips touched with living flame 
 In song unite, in the world of light; — 
 In our Leader's strength, in our Leader's name, 
 We fought — we struggled — we overcame, 
 And victors stood in the glorious fight ! 
 
 (171)
 
 XIII. 
 
 HYMN FOR NIGHT. 
 
 FTER labour sweet is rest, 
 
 Gently the wearied eyelids close ; 
 As an infant sleeps on his mother's breast, 
 The child of God may in peace repose. 
 Whether we sleep, or whether we wake, 
 We are His who gave His life for our sake. 
 
 He to whom darkness is as light, 
 
 Tenderly guards his slumbering sheep ; 
 
 The Shepherd watches His flock by night, 
 The feeble lambs He will safely keep. 
 
 Whether we sleep, or whether we wake, 
 
 We are His who gave His life for our sake. 
 
 Death's night comes, — it may now be near, — 
 Lord ! if our faith be fixed on Thee, 
 
 Oh ! how calm will that rest appear, 
 Oh ! how sweet will the waking be ! 
 
 Whether we sleep, or whether we wake, 
 
 We are His who gave His life for our sake. .
 
 XIV. 
 
 SONG OF JOY. 
 
 HE balmy Spring awakes the flowers 
 That long had slept in Winter's night, 
 Her light green robe adorns the bowers, 
 And all is beauty, all delight. 
 With joy I view earth's smiling frame, 
 And bless, O Lord, and bless Thy name ! 
 
 Thou hast vouchsafed me buoyant health, 
 A cheerful, light, and bounding heart ; 
 
 Contentment — better far than wealth, 
 And Hope — that rests when joys depart. 
 
 What gratitude such gifts should claim,- — 
 
 For these, O Lord, I bless thy name ! 
 
 Surrounded from my earliest days 
 
 By those who loved — who love me still, 
 
 My grateful heart I humbly raise 
 To Him, by whose Almighty will 
 
 To me earth's sweetest blessings came ; 
 
 I praise and magnify His name !
 
 36 SONG OF JOY. 
 
 But more than all I thank Thee, Lord, 
 For sins through Thy dear blood forgiven, 
 
 The comforts of Thy precious Word, 
 And hopes of endless bliss in Heaven ; 
 
 Bought by Thy suffering and Thy shame, — 
 
 For these, O Lord, I bless Thy name ! 
 
 Lord ! should it be Thy sovereign will 
 To blast my earthly happiness, 
 
 Yet give me grace to praise Thee still, 
 With trembling lips Thy wisdom bless ; 
 
 Crushed or exalted — still the same, 
 
 To bless, with fervour bless Thy name ! 
 
 Should all life's pleasures disappear, 
 Support me with Thy heavenly love, — 
 
 And when my course is ended here, 
 Oh, raise my soul to bliss above, 
 
 With saints to magnify Thy fame, 
 
 And bless, for ever bless Thy name ! 
 
 
 ■;0'^ 
 
 
 Y 3
 
 XV. 
 
 THE RETROSPECT. 
 
 HEN on Zion's hill we rest 
 In the mansions of the blest, 
 What a strange and fleeting dream 
 All life's hopes and fears will seem 1 
 
 What will all our pleasures here — 
 Titles — honours — then appear ? 
 Like a bubble on the river, 
 Bright awhile — then lost for ever ! 
 
 Things that now employ each thought, 
 Warmly wished for, fondly sought — 
 We may smile, and wonder much 
 Heirs of Heaven could stoop to such ! 
 
 Will the petty wrongs of earth 
 Seem one moment's anger worth ; 
 Or a friend's depart — the sorrow 
 Felt by those so soon to follow ]
 
 3$ THE RE IKOSPECT. 
 
 All that time bestowed will be 
 Lost in bright eternity ; 
 Save the harvest Christian Love 
 Sowed on earth— to reap above !
 
 XVI. 
 
 THE SUPPLICANT. 
 
 HELPLESS sinner in Thy sight, 
 
 At mercy's threshold, Lord, I wait ; 
 Inscribed in characters of light, 
 Thy promise shines upon the gate. 
 " Ask — ye shall receive ; 
 
 Seek — and ye shall find ; 
 Knock — and enter in, but leave 
 All sins and doubts behind." 
 
 I ask Thy boundless grace to share, 
 
 I seek for pardon through Thy blood, 
 I knock by earnest, fervent prayer, — 
 Lord, hear and answer me for good ! 
 "Ask — ye shall receive; 
 
 Seek — and ye shall find; 
 Knock — and enter in, but leave 
 All sins and doubts behind."
 
 4° THE SUPPLICANT. 
 
 Yes; each mistrustful doubt of Thee, 
 Each long-indulged, besetting sin, 
 Repented and renounced must be 
 By those who dare to venture in. 
 Then asking — we receive. 
 
 And seeking — we shall find, 
 Till, entering Heaven's gate, we leave 
 Earth, sin, and death behind !
 
 
 XVII. 
 
 WEAVER'S HYMN. 
 
 [OW swiftly flies man's mortal thread 
 Within the mighty loom of Time ; 
 What brilliant hues on some are shed, 
 While some are stained with woe or crime ! 
 But they bright webs are weaving, 
 Who, trusting and believing, 
 Through scenes of sorrow, scenes of joy, 
 God's grace are still receiving. 
 
 'Tis thus the Christian we behold 
 In sickness and in want resigned, 
 
 Because religion's thread of gold 
 Is in his gloomy lot entwined. 
 
 A bright web he is weaving 
 
 When, trusting and believing, 
 
 He from a loving Father's hand 
 Each trial is receiving.
 
 4 2 WE A VER 'S HYM\ T . 
 
 Death soon will break our thread in twain, 
 Time's busy loom itself must rest ; 
 
 Nought but a winding-sheet remain 
 Of all that mortals here possest. 
 
 Then every trial leaving, 
 
 No more o'er sorrows grieving, 
 
 How blest the Christian, from his Lord 
 The crown of life receiving !
 
 XVIII. 
 
 EMIGRANT'S HYMN. 
 
 AT HER of Heaven, Thy guidance we 
 implore 
 Where'er Thy providence our steps may 
 send ; 
 With drooping hearts we leave our native shore, 
 Do Thou be with us always — to the end ! 
 
 Protect and guard us on the lonely sea, 
 
 Though angry storms our flutt'ring canvas rend, 
 
 The anchor of our hope is fixed on Thee, 
 Do Thou be with us always — to the end ! 
 
 Prepare for us a home beyond the wave, 
 
 Where we in honest toil our days may spend, 
 
 Till gently sinking to a peaceful grave ; 
 And be Thou with us always — to the end !
 
 44 EMIGRANT'S HYMN. 
 
 Oh ! bless the dear ones whom we leave behind ! 
 
 Though severed now from parent — brother — 
 friend — 
 In Thee the parted yet may union find, 
 
 With them and us be always — to the end ! 
 
 Nor time nor space can from Thy love divide ; 
 
 For ever near to bless and to defend, 
 Our lives — our all — we to Thy care confide, 
 
 Be with us always — even to the end ! 
 
 W'
 
 XIX. 
 
 FISHERMEN'S HYMN. 
 
 HERE were fishermen once by the blue 
 Galilee, 
 Whose lives were as toilsome and hard 
 
 as our own, 
 They launched in the morning their boats in the sea, 
 Their nets in the soft heaving waters were thrown. 
 
 A plentiful blessing rewarded their toil, 
 
 Though all the night long they had laboured in vain, 
 
 Their vessels were filled with the glittering spoil, 
 And slowly, deep-laden, they moved o'er the main. 
 
 'Twas the presence of Christ that a miracle wrought, 
 
 The richly filled net was cast forth at His word, 
 
 And the draught far surpassing their hopes or their 
 
 thought, 
 
 Was the least of the blessings bestowed by the 
 
 Torch
 
 46 FISHERMEN'S HYMN. 
 
 Be with us, O Lord ! when we launch forth alone, 
 
 Be with us when toiling our bread to obtain, 
 Though Thy presence no more be by miracles 
 
 known, 
 Who labour in faith, will not labour in vain. 
 
 But we ask Thee for blessings more precious by far 
 
 Than the depths of the earth or the ocean can 
 
 yield, 
 
 Make us feel, like Thy Peter, what sinners we are, 
 
 Make us know that, though sinners, our pardon 
 
 is sealed. 
 
 Make us willing to quit all that keep us from Thee, 
 Like the chosen disciples in ages long past, 
 
 Like them, throughout life, Thy true followers be, 
 And anchor in Heaven's safe haven at last !
 
 XX. 
 
 TEACHER'S HYMN. 
 
 |EED thou My lambs," the Saviour said 
 To one whose spirit burned to 
 prove 
 
 By toils endured, or life-blood shed, 
 The strength of his devoted love. 
 
 "Feed thou My lambs;" oh! sacred trust 
 E'en for a great apostle meet, 
 To raise the feeble from the dust, 
 And guide them to the Saviour's feet. 
 
 " Feed thou My lambs." And ever thus 
 His flock the heavenly Shepherd tends ; 
 His mild command He breathes to us, 
 And to our care His sheep commends. 
 
 " Feed thou My lambs;" despised on earth 
 The friendless little one may be, 
 But who can tell the priceless worth 
 Of one soul, Lord, redeemed by Thee !
 
 4§ TEACHER'S HYMN. 
 
 May we pursue the blest employ 
 Endowed with wisdom from above, 
 
 And count it privilege and joy 
 
 To feed the lambs whom Thou dost love !
 
 XXI. 
 
 WORKMAN'S HYMN. 
 
 EFORE the morning's toil begin, 
 We thank Thee. Giver of all good, 
 For needful health and strength to win, 
 By daily labour, daily food. 
 
 The seeing eye, the skilful hand, 
 
 The powerful arm, are gifts from Thee ; 
 
 Thou for our comfort all hast planned, 
 Used to Thy glory all should be. 
 
 When Thou didst come to visit man, 
 A lowly lot, O Lord, was Thine ; 
 
 In poverty Thy life began, 
 Shall we at poverty repine ? 
 
 Thou who dost all our trials know, 
 
 Thou who didst all our sorrows share, 
 
 The comforts of Thy grace bestow, 
 
 And make us rich in faith and prayer. 
 (171) 4
 
 50 WORKMAN'S HYMN. 
 
 Soon will the hours of toil be past, 
 And calm repose at night be given ; 
 
 So life's short day is closing fast, 
 
 And sweet will be the rest of Heaven !
 
 XXII. 
 
 SEMPSTRESS'S HYMN. 
 
 AY after day my weary task I ply, 
 
 And half the night to ceaseless toil is 
 
 given ; 
 When weary is my heart and dim mine eye, 
 
 I seem to hear the Saviour's voice from Heaven : 
 " Come unto Me, all ye by toil opprest, 
 Come unto Me, and I will give you rest." 
 
 When all my labour scarce can bread procure, 
 And weak with want my feeble fingers move ; 
 
 When dear ones round me hunger's pangs endure, 
 My drooping spirit -hears that voice of love : 
 
 " Come unto Me, all ye by grief opprest, 
 
 Come unto Me, and I will give you rest." 
 
 O Lord, how shall I come 1 my sinful heart 
 Is prone to murmur, and Thy truth forget ; 
 
 Dare I approach Thee, holy as Thou art ? 
 Methinks I hear that gentle whisper yet :
 
 52 SEMPSTRESS'S HYMN. 
 
 " Come unto Me, all ye by sin opprest, 
 Come unto Me, and I will give you rest." 
 
 Oh, let me patiently await the day 
 
 When Christ my Lord in glory shall appear, 
 
 When tears shall be for ever wiped away, 
 
 And those who trust Him now His voice shall 
 hear : 
 
 " Come, faithful servants, of My Father blessed, 
 
 And I will give you everlasting rest." 
 
 mSfa
 
 XXIII. 
 
 RAGGED BOY'S HYMN. 
 
 WOULD not take what is not mine, foi 
 hoards of wealth untold, — 
 Far better grasp the red-hot steel, than 
 touch another's gold ; 
 The love of money, God hath said, of evil is the 
 
 root, 
 And if dishonesty thence spring, destruction is the 
 fruit. 
 
 I would not take what is not mine, though none 
 
 were near to see, 
 Conscience would my accuser stand, and God my 
 
 judge would be ; 
 The covetous desire, the wicked thought I would 
 
 control, — 
 What shall it profit man to gain the world, and lose 
 
 his soul ?
 
 54 RAGGED BOY'S HYMN. 
 
 I would not take another's goods,— the loser might 
 repine, 
 
 His loss might heavy seem to him, but small com- 
 pared to mine; 
 
 For oh ! more precious far than all the wealth to 
 nobles given, 
 
 An honest name, a quiet conscience, and the hope 
 of Heaven ! 
 
 I would not take what is not mine, but treasure 
 
 seek above, 
 Gained without money, without price, from our 
 
 Redeemer's love ; 
 Time cannot change it, moth corrupt, nor thieves 
 
 break through and steal, 
 And all eternity will but its boundless worth reveal !
 
 XXIV. 
 
 RAGGED GIRL'S HYMN. 
 
 |HE Sabbath sun has risen high, 
 
 And sweetly sounds the Sabbath bell, 
 My basket now untouched must lie, 
 This day I neither buy nor sell. 
 The Sabbath rest I will not break, 
 But God's commands my study make, 
 And trust the word 
 Of my dear Lord, 
 " I will not leave thee, nor forsake." 
 
 But I am poor, with none to aid, 
 And Satan sore is tempting me, 
 " If thou give up the Sabbath trade, 
 
 The Sabbath meal is not for thee." 
 My God, oh, let me never break 
 The least command that Thou didst make, 
 But trust the word 
 Of my dear Lord, 
 " I will not leave thee, nor forsake."
 
 56 RAGGED GIRVS HYMN. 
 
 When Christ was faint with hunger's pain, 
 The Tempter urged God's blessed Son 
 In way unmeet relief to gain ; 
 
 But steadfast stood the Holy One, 
 His perfect faith no doubt could shake, 
 The least command He would not break, 
 He knew the love 
 Of God above, 
 Would never leave Him, nor forsake. 
 
 Now, high in heaven, He hears and grants 
 The prayers of those in faith who pray ; 
 My earthly cares, my earthly wants, 
 
 O Saviour, at Thy feet I lay : 
 Supply Thy servant's need, and make 
 Her soul of heavenly food partake, 
 For still, O Lord, 
 I trust Thy word, 
 " I'll never leave thee, nor forsake."
 
 XXV. 
 
 POLICEMAN'S HYMN. 
 
 i N the silence of night when the stars glimmer 
 o'er me, 
 The sound of my tread breaks the still- 
 ness alone, 
 I think of the far-distant mansions of glory, 
 
 Where angels keep watch round the Holy One's 
 throne. 
 
 Then, when clock after clock tells the hours that 
 are fleeting, 
 I think how each brings the day near and more 
 near, 
 When around the dread judgment-seat multitudes 
 meeting, 
 The last solemn verdict of justice shall hear. 
 
 On the right hand will stand Christ's redeemed 
 ones, possessing 
 Robes washed in His blood, with His righteous- 
 ness crowned ;
 
 58 POLICEMAN'S HYMN. 
 
 On the left the lost souls that rejected the blessing ; 
 O God, in which number shall /then be found! 
 
 Am I resting my hopes on His infinite merit, 
 Who suffered our pardon and peace to procure ; 
 
 Am I seeking the aid of His life-giving Spirit 
 To make my heart penitent, humble, and pure 1 
 
 Oh ! for those who believe there is " no condemna- 
 tion," 
 The Judge shall Himself be their Saviour and 
 Friend, 
 His voice shall award them eternal salvation, 
 And bliss, in His presence, which never shall end
 
 XXVI. 
 
 PAUPER'S HYMN. 
 
 AR from the friends to me most dear, 
 Within the crowded ward I lie, 
 Destined, perhaps, mid strangers here 
 To suffer and to die. 
 Time may all other joys remove 
 Yet leaves he still Faith, Hope, and Love. 
 
 Faith to the cross my spirit leads, 
 
 And tells of One now glorified, 
 Who at the Father's right hand pleads 
 
 For those for whom He died. 
 What trials can too bitter prove 
 While yet there rest Faith, Hope, and Love? 
 
 Hope whispers of that happy place 
 Where I my Saviour shall behold, 
 
 And sing the wonders of His grace 
 To harp of shining gold. 
 
 What sorrows can our patience move 
 
 While still remain Faith, Hope, and Love?
 
 60 PAUrER'S HYMN. 
 
 Love draws my heart towards my kind, 
 
 Makes me in each a brother (or sister) see, 
 
 To cheer the sad, to help the blind, 
 Are joys still left to me. 
 
 Bless my companions, heavenly Dove, 
 
 Fill them with Faith, and Hope, and Love. 
 
 There is no pain or sorrow here, 
 
 For those who will God's lesson learn, 
 
 But Faith may brighten, Hope may cheer, 
 And Love to blessing turn ; 
 
 Then Peace descending from above 
 
 Unites with Faith, and Hope, and Love.
 
 XXVII. 
 
 POSTMAN'S HYMN. 
 
 |N daily rounds my constant course I keep, 
 Expected oft, but never asked to stay, 
 Nor know I who may laugh, or who may 
 weep 
 When gazing at the tidings I convey. 
 So is there one who comes to rich and poor, 
 Expected long, unwelcome though he be ; 
 When death's loud knock is sounding at my door, 
 What are the tidings he will bring to mel 
 
 The haughty man to great possessions heir, 
 
 The selfish man, whose treasure is below, 
 The selfish man all full of worldly care — 
 
 To them his message is of fear and woe. 
 Bold Sabbath-breakers, scoffers at God's word, 
 
 Who rush on paths which conscience must con- 
 demn, 
 When death's loud knock is at their dwellings heard, 
 
 Oh ! fearful tidings must he bring to them.
 
 62 
 
 POSTMAN'S HYMN. 
 
 The contrite, mourning o'er repented sin, 
 
 The meek in heart, whose treasure is above, 
 The faithful, who a heavenly crown would win — 
 
 To such his message is of peace and love. 
 He comes to tell them that their griefs are o'er, 
 
 That Christ from sin and sorrow sets them free; 
 Oh ! when death's knock is sounding at my door, 
 
 Such blessed tidings may he bring to me !
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 SERVANT'S HYMN. 
 
 |0 whom do I obedience owe, 
 
 Who should my willing service 
 claim 1 
 One master dwelling here below, 
 
 And One above the starry frame. 
 Oh ! may the thought of Him above, 
 
 Each Christian servant's zeal awake, 
 To serve with faithfulness and love — 
 For Christ, our heavenly Master's sake. 
 
 The earnest follower of the Lord, 
 
 Must by the badge of truth be known, 
 Integrity that shrinks from fraud, 
 
 And needs no eye — save God's alone 
 The cheerful heart, the ready mind 
 
 That can in labour pleasure take, 
 To every kindly act inclined, 
 
 For Christ, our heavenly Master's sake.
 
 64 SERVANT'S HYMN. 
 
 Though our best service is, we own, 
 
 To God "unprofitable" still, 
 The Lord, to whom the heart is known, 
 
 Rewards the attempt to do His will. 
 Oh ! through His mercy may we rise, 
 
 When the last trump our sleep shall break, 
 And find a welcome in the skies, 
 
 For Christ, our heavenly Master's sake !
 
 XXIX. 
 
 MINER'S HYMN. 
 
 |HEN verdant fields are seen no more, 
 Where Heaven's beams can never 
 shine, 
 Earth's hidden treasures to explore 
 
 We labour in the gloomy mine. 
 But bright the torches' yellow rays 
 
 That light us on our darksome way, 
 And sweet the voice of Hope that says. 
 "We soon shall see the light of day.'' 
 
 And thus awhile must all mankind 
 
 Toil on and labour here below, 
 Poor sinful mortals, weak and blind, 
 
 And subject all to pain and woe. 
 But brightly shines God's holy Word 
 
 Which lights us on our darksome way, 
 And sweet the hope its leaves afford, 
 
 " We soon shall see a heavenly day." 
 
 171)
 
 66 MINER'S HYMN. 
 
 The Lord of Angels deigned to come 
 
 To bear our punishment and pain, 
 He made our dark abode His home, 
 
 That we might rise, that we might reign. 
 And those who in His Word delight, 
 
 Who trust His love, His will obey, 
 Shall shine in robes of spotless white 
 
 In Heaven's everlasting day !
 
 XXX. 
 
 GARDENER'S HYMN. 
 
 RE our first parents fell, the ground 
 All beauty and abundance crowned ; 
 But now the soil our labour needs, — 
 The earth produces thorns and weeds. 
 
 And trials on our pathway grow. 
 The prickly care, the stinging woe, 
 How oft the wounded spirit bleeds, — 
 Our life produces thorns and weeds. 
 
 But — worse than all — we find within, 
 The poisoned roots of pride and sin, 
 From them our misery proceeds, — 
 The heart produces thorns and weeds. 
 
 But, Lord, Thou bidst Thy sunbeams glow, 
 Thy gentle raindrops fall below ; 
 When industry has dressed the bowers, 
 The earth produces fruits and flowers.
 
 68 GARDENER'S HYMN. 
 
 So when Thy love its radiance lends, 
 Thy Spirit like the dew descends, 
 When Faith, and Hope, and Peace are ours, 
 ( )ur life produces fruits and flowers. 
 
 Oh ! lead us to that blissful shore. 
 Where thorns and weeds are known no more, 
 Where Death can never reach the bowei 
 To blast the fruit or blisrht the flowers !
 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 LABOURER'S HYMN. 
 
 BLESS Thee, Lord, in early spring, 
 When first the daisy decks the 
 mead, 
 And in the furrowed ground we fling, 
 
 With hope and prayer, the golden seed. 
 Let children in life's spring-time days 
 Lift up their hearts in prayer and praise ! 
 
 I bless Thee in the summer heat, 
 
 When cattle seek the cooling streams, 
 
 And o'er green fields of waving wheat 
 The sun pours down his ripening beams. 
 
 Let man in life's bright summer days 
 
 Lift up his heart in prayer and praise ! 
 
 I bless Thee in the autumn morn, 
 When varied tints are on the leaves, 
 
 When gaily sounds the hunter's horn, 
 Where reapers bind the golden sheaves.
 
 7 o LABOURER'S HYMN. 
 
 Let man in life's declining days 
 
 Lift up his heart in prayer and praise ! 
 
 I'll bless my God in winter's gloom, 
 When Nature sleeps beneath the snow; 
 
 Oh ! grant that when, beneath the tomb, 
 My body lies in slumber low, 
 
 Thou wilt my soul to Heaven raise, 
 
 Where all is joy and all is praise !
 
 XXXII. 
 
 WIFE'S HYMN. 
 
 ELP me, Lord Jesus, to fulfil 
 
 The duties of a wedded wife, 
 Obedient to my husband's will, 
 The joy and sunshine of his life. 
 
 Upon my brow no angry cloud, 
 Upon my lips no hasty word, 
 
 Not one rebellious thought allowed, 
 His wishes to my own preferred. 
 
 Help me to make my husband's home 
 The calm abode of peace and love, 
 
 Where strife and discord ne'er may come, 
 A type of that we seek above. 
 
 To walk together in Thy sight, 
 
 To share each other's joys and woes, 
 
 Together pray at dawn of light, 
 Together praise at evening's close ;
 
 / - 
 
 WIFE'S HYMN. 
 
 Each ready, when temptation lower, 
 With gentle counsel, kindly aid ; 
 
 Lord Jesus ! let such lot be ours, 
 
 ( )h, bless the tie which Thou hast made ! 
 
 United " until death us part," 
 
 Not death the Christian bond can sever : 
 Who love Thee here with faithful heart, 
 
 With Thee shall live, and love for ever !
 
 XXXIII. 
 
 HYMN OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 jjOT alone in God's house, or in seasons of 
 prayer, 
 Must the power of a Christian's religion 
 be shown, 
 At his home, at his counter, and everywhere 
 
 Must the strength of his faith by his actions be 
 known ; 
 For the clear path of duty is marked in God's Word, 
 •' Be not slothful in business, but serving the Lord.*' 
 
 Not slothful in business ! God wills that we toil, 
 From the claims of our calling permits no retreat, 
 
 Though indolence may from the sentence recoil, 
 " If the hand will not labour, the mouth should 
 not eat ;" 
 
 Faith to industry must but new motive afford, 
 
 " Be not slothful in business, but serving the Lord."
 
 74 
 
 // ) 'MN OF IND US TR V. 
 
 Yes, serving the Lord; 'mid our toils and our cares 
 May we never forget the great Master we serve, 
 
 Who the mansions of light for His people prepares; 
 For though man from his Maker can nothing 
 deSi 
 
 God hath graciously promised Himself to reward 
 
 Their labours of love who are "serving the Lord." 
 
 To the hand ever prompt in the business of life, 
 But which never would close over fraudulent 
 gain, 
 To the heart firm and strong in the world's busy 
 strife, 
 Which can holy, and humble, and faithful remain, 
 God in life and in death will His blessing accord, 
 " Be not slothful in business, but serving the Lord."
 
 
 XXXIV. 
 
 SOCIAL HYMN. 
 
 OW beautiful is Nature's face ! 
 God made all things so fair, 
 Each keeps its own allotted place, 
 Nor hate, nor strife are there. 
 The hill and the plain, 
 
 The grass and forest tree, 
 The mighty waters of the main, 
 The lily on the lea, — 
 The sunny sky is over all, 
 And all is harmony. 
 
 So in the social world we stand 
 
 In God's appointed way, 
 And some He destines to command, 
 And others to obey. 
 The rich and the poor, 
 
 The lowly and the great, 
 The peasant at his cottage door, 
 The Sovereign in her state, —
 
 7 r » SOCIAL HYMN. 
 
 One holy tie uniteth all 
 
 Who on one Master wait. 
 
 ! low glorious is the mountain height, 
 
 Whence kindly streamlets flow 
 To bless the peaceful valleys, bright 
 
 With bending corn below 
 
 The fair mountain-crown 
 
 Shall envy assail, 
 Or pride trample clown 
 
 The harvest of the vale] — 
 The unity in Nature's world 
 In Man's world should prevail. 
 
 Oh ! let not Satan overthrow 
 
 The order Cod designed ; 
 The seeds of bitter envy sow. 
 And pride, among mankind. 
 Let rich love the poor, 
 
 The humble bless the great, 
 The servant guard the master's stoic, 
 The monarch serve the state, — 
 Each — in his separate sphere — to God 
 His talents consecrate.
 
 XXXV 
 
 NATIONAL HYMN. 
 
 GOD of Hosts, our fathers' God, 
 
 Thy blessing on our country shed, 
 Watch o'er the land our sires have trod, 
 Watch o'er the land our sons will tread. 
 
 We pray for our Jerusalem, 
 
 Keep discord from her homes afar, 
 
 Let thy strong arm deliver them 
 From famine, pestilence, and war. 
 
 Though Britain spurns th' invader's sword 
 As her white cliffs repulse the tide, 
 
 We would our grateful hearts, O Lord ! 
 Lift up in praise, and not in pride. 
 
 The race is not unto the swift, 
 
 Nor is the battle to the strong; 
 Success and safety are Thy gift, 
 
 The glory must to Thee belong.
 
 78 NATIONAL HYMN. 
 
 Let our dear land in safety rest, 
 Her people happy, loyal, free, 
 
 Blest amongst nations — still most blest 
 In that pure faith which leads to Thee !
 
 XXXVI. 
 
 SOLDIER'S HYMN. 
 
 HOLY warfare, Lord, is mine 
 Against a foe I cannot see, — 
 Oh ! aid me with Thy grace divine, 
 Thy faithful soldier let me be. 
 
 Thy armour — faith and righteousness, 
 Thy holy Word within my hand, 
 
 When fierce temptations round me press 
 Let me thy faithful soldier stand. 
 
 Should false shame lure me to deny 
 The truth, or waver in the right, 
 
 Let me the insidious foe defy, 
 And as Thy faithful soldier fight. 
 
 And oh ! when death's keen shafts descend, 
 And failing pulse, and glazing eye, 
 
 Warn that the conflict soon must end, 
 Thy faithful soldier let me die !
 
 So 
 
 SOLD/KISS HYMN. 
 
 Washed in Thy blood, let me appear 
 
 ^Yhere crowns are to the conquerors given. 
 
 I'h rough Christ alone we triumph here, 
 ( )r wear the victor's wreath in Heaven '.
 
 XXXVII. 
 
 THE WISE MEN FROM THE EAST. 
 
 HERE is thy new-born Lord, U Judah I 
 Zion — where thy King I 
 The treasures of our distant land to 
 Him we tribute bring ; 
 Lo ! in the East we saw His star, the day-spring 
 
 from on high, 
 And we have come to worship Him enthroned in 
 majesty !" 
 
 Thus spake the Eastern sages, thus the pious 
 
 Gentiles spake, 
 But Judah would not know her Lord, His people 
 
 would not wake ; 
 The earth's Creator was on earth, unnoticed or 
 
 forgot, 
 The Saviour came unto His own, His own received 
 
 Him not. 
 
 171) G
 
 82 THE WISE MEN FROM THE EAST. 
 
 The Gentile world that lay in darkness, they have 
 
 seen the light, 
 Wherefore doth Zion turn away on whom it rose so 
 
 bright ! 
 Oh ! thou that bearest joyful tidings, why so mute 
 
 art thou 1 
 Lift up thy voice, Jerusalem, behold thy Saviour 
 
 now ! 
 
 Oh! joy to those who seek Messiah while He may 
 
 be found ; 
 Again the heavenly harbinger sheds its soft lustre 
 
 round, 
 Not on proud tower or stately palace streams the 
 
 radiance mild, 
 But where the carpenter's meek wife bends o'er her 
 
 blessed Child. 
 
 Hail, Mary, highly-favoured, hail ! God's power 
 
 o'ershadoweth thee, 
 Blessed amongst all women thou in thy humility ! 
 Yea, rather blessed they who seek Christ's precepts 
 
 to fulfil,— 
 His mother, brethren, sisters, they who know and 
 
 do His will.
 
 THE WISE MEN FROM THE HAST. 83 
 
 The sages to the infant Saviour bring their offerings 
 
 meet, 
 Rich odours fill the perfumed air, gold glitters at 
 
 His feet ; 
 Oh 1 happy thus His poverty's sharp trial to defer, 
 To minister to Him who came to all to minister ! 
 
 May we not deem when He in glory comes, th' 
 
 eternal Lord 
 Will all those offerings of faith remember and 
 
 reward, — 
 That richer than the wealth of worlds that hallowed 
 
 gold will be, 
 Those sacred odours fragrance breathe through all 
 
 eternity ] 
 
 But now the Saviour sits enthroned above the 
 Seraphim ; 
 
 When all creation owns his sway, and angels wor- 
 ship Him, 
 
 Can our poor gifts acceptance find before His 
 glorious throne I 
 
 The earth is His and all therein, not e'en our lives 
 our own.
 
 S4 THE WISE MEN FROM THE EAST. 
 
 Lo ! here the " Man of sorrows" representatives 
 
 hath left, 
 The sick, the prisoners, the poor, of all but hope 
 
 bereft ; 
 Aid to " the least of these His brethren " to the 
 
 Lord is given, 
 Off' rings of love to those He loves, He will accept 
 
 in Heaven. 
 
 But still the noblest gift. that man can lay before 
 
 God's throne 
 Is the rich tribute of a heart that trusts in Him 
 
 alone; 
 The poorest— least— this gift may bring, but oh ! 
 
 it will outweigh 
 The treasures of the universe upon the judgment 
 
 day !
 
 XXXVIII. 
 
 SONG OF HOPE. 
 
 QOW highly blest were those who saw 
 On earth their gracious Lord, 
 Who dared approach His sacred form, 
 Who listened to His word, 
 Whose faith the Son of God approved,— 
 Whom the Redeemer saw, and loved ! 
 
 Disciples hearkening to the voice 
 
 Which reached the inmost soul, 
 That voice which could awake the dead. 
 
 The winds and waves control ; 
 Who heard — oh ! more than happiness — 
 Those accents pardon, praise, or bless ! 
 
 "Who gazed on that soul-searching eye, 
 Which every thought foresaw, 
 
 From whose calm power the hypocrite 
 Shrank with instinctive awe, —
 
 86 SONG OF HOPE. 
 
 Yet saw on them its glances fixed 
 With tender mere)' — love unmixed ! 
 
 And may not such ecstatic bliss 
 
 Be granted e'en to me ? 
 Though death destroy this mortal flesh", 
 
 These eyes my God shall see, 
 When coming in the clouds of light 
 His glory bursts upon my sight ! 
 
 To hear the Saviour's voice of love 
 Pronounce the gracious word, 
 
 " Come, blessed of My Father, come, 
 Enter the kingdom of your Lord ; " 
 
 To meet the smile in eyes divine — 
 
 Oh ! can such rapture e'er be mine ! 
 
 It may, it may, it is prepared 
 For all who love Him here, 
 
 Who humbly search His written word, 
 And serve with faith and fear ; 
 
 They all shall see Messiah's face 
 
 Radiant with glory, love, and grace !
 
 SONG OF HOPE. 8 7 
 
 The hand that guides their course on earth 
 
 Shall wipe all tears away, 
 The light which cheers their thorny path 
 
 Shall flash to perfect day ; 
 Where Jesus reigns His saints shall be, 
 With Him through all eternity !
 
 XXXIX. 
 
 THE FEARFUL HEART. 
 
 ORD, careth Thou not that we perish ! ' 
 Cried his followers in agonized fear. 
 When the black stormy sky, 
 And the waves dashing high, 
 Made death with its terrors seem near. 
 
 The Saviour awoke from His slumber- 
 He spake, and rebuked the rude main : 
 
 Though the wild cry for aid 
 
 Feeble faith had betrayed, 
 E'en that cry was not uttered in vain. 
 
 " Lord, careth Thou not that we perish ! " 
 This oft is the cry of despair, 
 
 W lien affliction's waves roll, 
 
 And the agonized soul 
 Scarce can breathe forth her anguish in prayer.
 
 THE FEARFUL HEART. So 
 
 Yet the Saviour is watching beside us, 
 1 lis eye cannot slumber or sleep, 
 
 The bark which he guides 
 
 Where His Presence abides 
 ( 'an never be wrecked on the deep. 
 
 Oh ! how soon would our inward griefs vanish, 
 Our souls fear no perils without, 
 
 Could we hear His mild love 
 
 Thus our terrors reprove, 
 "Ye of little faith, why did ye doubt?"
 
 XL. 
 
 CONVICTION OF SIN. 
 
 HEN Peter by the miracle 
 Knew his celestial guest, 
 At the Redeemer's feet he fell 
 By sense of guilt opprest; 
 " Depart ! " he cried, subdued and awed, 
 " I am a sinful man, O Lord ! " 
 
 So must the wisest, holiest, best, 
 Their past transgressions own, 
 
 And on the Saviour's mercy rest 
 Their hopes of heaven alone ; 
 
 To all applies the suppliant word, 
 
 " Have mercy on a sinner, Lord ! " 
 
 Can vain thoughts, covetous desires, 
 And proud presumptuous hearts, 
 
 Endure the pure eye that requires 
 Truth in the inward parts]
 
 CONVICTION OF SIN. <J J 
 
 Self-righteousness, deluding sin, 
 
 Would shrink if light hut streamed within. 
 
 Nor deem we good deeds can atone 
 
 For one — the smallest — sin ; 
 That virtues, in the balance thrown, 
 
 May God's acceptance win, — 
 On tainted works man dare not rest, 
 " Unprofitable " at the best. 
 
 Ne'er be the impious hope allowed ; 
 
 No more let mortals aim 
 From God, or from themselves, to shroud 
 
 Their helplessness and shame, 
 But at Thy feet, Lord Jesus, fall, 
 Like Peter, and confess it all ! 
 
 The spotted leprosy of guilt 
 
 Within we must have seen, 
 Ere w r e in faith cry, " If Thou wilt, 
 
 Lord ! Thou canst make me clean ! " 
 Oh ! let us first our frailty see 
 Then find our cure, our all in Thee !
 
 XLI. 
 
 THE SACRED GUEST. 
 
 HEN from the branches' leafy screen 
 Zaccheus on his Master gazed, 
 What must his glad surprise have been 
 When the Lord's eye to him was raised ! 
 Christ singled out that one frail man 
 
 From all the throng that round Him pressed, 
 And to the slighted publican 
 
 These gracious words the Lord addressed. 
 
 li .Make haste, descend, this day will I 
 
 With thee abide." Zaccheus heard, 
 Received his Master joyfully, 
 
 And reaped the blessing of that word : 
 " This day salvation to this home 
 
 Is come," thus Christ the blessing gave ; 
 " For lo ! the Son of man is come 
 
 That which was lost to seek and save ! "
 
 THE SACRED GUEST. 93 
 
 Mortal, on earth though low-esteemed, 
 
 Thou, like the publican, mayst be ; 
 The eye that on Zaccheus beamed 
 
 May now be, is now fixed on thee. 
 From Him retirement is no screen, 
 
 Thy insignificance no shroud ; 
 And still all cold as thou hast been 
 
 To thee the Saviour speaks aloud. 
 
 " Lo ! at the door I stand and knock, 
 
 If any open unto Me, 
 The portals of his heart unlock, 
 
 I, even I, his Guest will be." 
 Oh ! can that sacred Guest in vain 
 
 Crave entrance to a sinner's heart ; 
 Can pride itself unmoved remain, 
 
 Or madness pray Him to depart I 
 
 No ; sure with grateful joy alone 
 
 Thou wilt thy Lord and Saviour meet, 
 Within thy heart prepare His throne, 
 
 And pour thy treasures at His feet ! 
 For think not Christ thy Guest can be 
 
 Unless thy works His presence prove, 
 As in Zaccheus, God in thee 
 
 See acts of justice, deeds of love.
 
 94 THE SACRED GUEST. 
 
 Pure is the heart if God be there, 
 
 That shrine no second lord receives ; 
 Christ suffers not His "house of prayer" 
 
 To be the shameful " den of thieves." 
 Far from the temple that He loves 
 
 He drives base passions, selfish care, 
 With His own blood each stain removes, 
 
 Then comes and dwells for ever there !
 
 XLII. 
 
 THE MOURNER. 
 
 ORTH from the city gate of Nain 
 Slow wends the funeral array, 
 And friends by love or pity led 
 Swell the procession on its way. 
 There from one closely shrouded form 
 
 The deep low sobs convulsive burst — 
 The widow mourns her only son, 
 And grief for her has done its worst. 
 
 The Saviour meets the sorrowing one, 
 
 And they that bear the bier stand still, 
 The voice of grief is hushed in awe, 
 
 And all in silence wait His will. 
 The " Man of Sorrows " sees her woe, 
 
 He who knew grief, for grief can feel ; 
 Weep not, thou mourner, Christ is near, 
 
 As Man to pity, God to heal.
 
 96 the A/or aw/-: a: 
 
 He speaks the word, and death obeys: 
 
 Is it the breeze that stirs the shroud? 
 The stiffened limbs relax, they move 
 
 With new and wondrous life endowed. 
 Life dawns upon the ashen cheek, 
 
 Through each cold vein life's currents run, 
 The dead man rises from his bier — 
 
 The widow clasps her living son ! 
 
 Oh ! ye bereaved ones, whose sad tears 
 
 Some loved and lifeless form bedew, 
 The Eye that saw and pitied her 
 
 Looks in compassion down on you ; 
 Although no miracle at once 
 
 Your. loved one to your arms restore, 
 That voice which waked the widow's son 
 
 Shall bid him live, to die no more.
 
 
 XLIII. 
 
 THE CHRISTIAN BOND. 
 
 HEN in our breasts we feel the flame of 
 love, 
 Kindled by heaven, becoming dim and 
 low, 
 When cold our feelings are to God above, 
 Unsympathizing to His poor below, 
 When kindness seems a task, and words impatient 
 flow ; 
 How shall we cherish love's declining light 1 ? 
 
 By drawing forth from memory's treasure-cave 
 The recollection of that mournful night 
 When Jesus to the flock He died to save 
 Gave His last mild commands, His parting bless- 
 ing gave. 
 
 Muse on the solemn scene, till faith have power 
 
 The inspired narrative to realize; 
 And round the board at evening's silent hour 
 
 (m) 7
 
 98 THE CHRISTIAN BOND. 
 
 The chosen twelve appear, their anxious eyes 
 Fixed on the Lamb of God, the spotless Sacrifice. 
 
 Lo ! on the bread His sacred hand he lays, 
 That hand so soon transfixed for them to be ; 
 
 See the Redeemer's sad uplifted gaze, 
 
 And hear the accents breathing mournfully, 
 " This do ye in remembrance still of Me ! " 
 
 Nor this the sole command by Christ then given 
 To His disciples, loved unto the last, 
 
 At that sad meeting, when the Lord of Heaven 
 Beheld death's awful hour approaching fast, 
 The cross — the anguish which all mortal woe 
 surpassed ; 
 
 When He surveyed His small devoted band, 
 And all that He for them would suffer knew, 
 
 The Saviour breathed that heavenly command, 
 That bond of union to His faithful few, 
 " Love one another e'en as I have loved you." 
 
 As I have loved you. Oh ! more than love, — 
 Language can breathe, and thought conceive no 
 more ; 
 
 Tt is not "as thyself" — this mounts above 
 All human feeling, bids us higher soar,
 
 THE CHRISTIAN BOND. 
 
 99 
 
 Gaze on the cross, and feel the love a Saviourbore ! 
 And can we ever rudely tear aside 
 
 The band Messiah twined around His own? 
 Envy, resentment, petulance, or pride, 
 
 Erase the mark by which His flock are known 1 ? 
 
 Hath Christ ne'er loved its, to us no mercy shown?
 
 XLIV. 
 THE CURE AT GETHSEMANE. 
 
 HE awful night hath passed, the day 
 Soon o'er the mountains will be break 
 
 ing, 
 
 And from their sleep of sorrow now 
 The Saviour's followers are waking; 
 
 The Lord hath risen from His knees, ' 
 His soul resigned on God relics, 
 
 The cup of vengeance now is full, 
 The Victim waits the sacrifice. 
 
 Hark ! hark ! what sounds the stillness break, 
 The clouds of danger darken o'er Him, 
 
 The traitor bands surround their Lord, 
 And His betrayer stands before Him. 
 
 Then love bursts through the bonds of fear- 
 Forth from the scabbard leaps the sword, 
 
 The apostle strikes the hasty blow 
 To save — or to avenge his Lord !
 
 THE CURE A T GETHSEMANE. i G i 
 
 Oh ! many a miracle of love 
 
 The Lord had wrought for souls believing, 
 Now stilling storms, now by His power 
 
 The wants of multitudes relieving ; 
 But the last miracle of Christ, 
 
 Ere to His fearful trial brought, 
 Was wrought when captive and betrayed — 
 
 And for His persecutor wrought. 
 
 He touched the wound— and it was healed ; 
 
 Oh ! deed, unmeasured love revealing; 
 Ere it was nailed upon the cross 
 
 That gracious hand's last touch was healing ! 
 And when the lighter wrongs we bear 
 
 Rouse in our hearts vindictive fire, 
 Shall not remembrance of that deed 
 
 Thrill on our souls, and calm our ire? 
 
 Sweet are the thoughts that wondrous cure 
 
 Wrought at Gethsemane may yield us; 
 We, too, were rebels to our King, 
 
 And He, though rebels, touched and healed us. 
 Let us to all men mercy show, 
 
 As we through only mercy live; 
 Rejoice, like Christ, the poor to bless, 
 
 Like Christ, the guilty to forgive !
 
 XLV. 
 
 HYMN FOR THE COMMUNION. 
 
 j T the foot of the Cross where my Saviour 
 is bleeding, 
 By faith let me now with His followers 
 bend ; 
 Let me hear for my pardon His voice interceding, 
 And see, for my sins, these dear life-drops descend. 
 
 As when His fierce murderers mocked and defied 
 Him, 
 The Maries still clung to their Master adored, 
 Nor for thrones would have quitted their station 
 beside Him, 
 Their long mournful watch by their crucified Lord ; 
 
 So, unmoved by the scoffs of the foe and blas- 
 phemer, 
 
 I would muse upon all that my Saviour hath borne; 
 Permitted to watch by the dying Redeemer, 
 
 And gaze on that pale brow encircled with thorn.
 
 HYMN FOR THE COMMUNION. 103 
 
 Oh ! let such remembrance be present before mc 
 When called on the feast of His love to partake, 
 
 Let my spirit commune with her Lord now in glory, 
 And trembling behold what He bore for our sake !
 
 XLV'I. 
 
 HYMN FOR THE DYING. 
 
 j]HE day of life is closing, 
 
 Its last faint beam has fled ; 
 Yet faith, on Christ reposing, 
 Can Death's cold waters tread ; 
 The dark sea spreads before me, 
 
 Upon the brink I stand ; 
 ( )h, guide me, Lord of Glory, 
 To Heaven's blissful strand ! 
 To Thee, Lord, I flee, 
 My trust is in Thee ; 
 " O death, where is thy sting ? O grave, thy 
 victory 1" 
 
 No longer here detain me, 
 
 I hear my Saviour's voice, 
 I feel His arm sustain me, 
 
 I triumph and rejoice !
 
 11 YMN FOR THE D YING. 1 05 
 
 The Lord will bless for ever 
 
 Those who His love have known, 
 Nor life, nor death shall sever 
 The Saviour from His own ! 
 Victorious and free 
 His people shall be; 
 "O death, where is thy sting? O grave, thy 
 victory 1" 
 
 ^S^p
 
 XLVII. 
 
 DEATH IS NOT DREADFUL. 
 
 j|EATH is not dreadful, no ! 
 
 Though sad affection weeps, 
 The grave is but the cradle where 
 The future seraph sleeps, 
 And smiling Faith her watch above 
 The peaceful slumberer keeps. 
 
 Death is not dreadful, no ! 
 
 'Twere terrible to die, 
 E'en to the best, if called to stand 
 
 Before the Deity 
 Bare in their guilt, — without a friend 
 
 To meet the Judge's eye. 
 
 But oh ! the weakest saint 
 May fearless pass the flood, 
 
 His robe shall shine as white as light 
 Washed in his Saviour's blood ;
 
 DBA Til IS NO T DREA DFUL. 1 o 7 
 
 The Judge Himself shall plead his cause, 
 Who as his Surety stood. 
 
 Death is not dreadful, no ! 
 
 It bids us reap at last 
 The joyful harvest of our tears, 
 
 Our toils and trials past ; 
 It gives us our inheritance, 
 
 How glorious and how vast ! 
 
 Death is not dreadful, no ! 
 
 It is the Saviour's voice 
 Calling His lambs unto the fold ; 
 
 They hear it, and rejoice: 
 In life or death " to be with Christ " 
 
 This is His servants' choice. 
 
 So, when the long night comes, 
 In peace they close their eyes, 
 
 Humbly confiding in His care 
 Whose love all change defies, — 
 
 Bowing to His Almighty will, 
 All-merciful, All-wise. 
 
 Then welcome be the night 
 Preceding endless day,
 
 io8 DEA I'll IS NOT DREADFl X. 
 
 Thrice blessed the Gospel's glorious light, 
 That chased its gloom away, 
 
 And showed us life beyond the tomb 
 In Christ, the sinner's Stay.
 
 XLVIII. 
 
 NEVER FORSAKEN. 
 
 HY dread the future, trembling one, 
 Since whatsoe'er the griefs it bring. 
 A Father's voice pronounced the fate 
 It bears upon its rapid wing] 
 Canst thou not trust thy earthly hopes 
 To Him in whom thy soul confides ; 
 Nor cast thy cares upon thy Lord 
 
 When angels whisper " God provides." 
 
 " Why for the morrow take ye thought?" 
 
 The God of truth and mercy said ; 
 His gracious arm supports thee now, 
 
 His sheltering wing is o'er thee spread ; 
 He ne'er forgets His human pangs — 
 
 The stricken soul, the tortured limb — 
 Nor gives a moment's needless pain 
 
 To those who love and trust in Him !
 
 no NEVER FORSAKE X. 
 
 What dost thou fear, what dost thou dread? 
 
 The rushing wind — the billow's roar? 
 The gale, though rude, by love is sent 
 
 To speed thy course to Heaven's shore. 
 More fatal were a death-like calm ; 
 
 The stormy voyage not long can last, 
 The Saviour's welcome overpays 
 
 A thousand-fold the perils past. 
 
 Fear not, — what should God's children fear ] 
 
 The dreaded clouds may roll away ; 
 Unnumbered mercies oft received 
 
 Should strengthen faith to trust to-day. 
 Enough — without the Lord's consent 
 
 None from thy head one hair can sever ; 
 Enough — thou art the Almighty's care ; 
 
 Afflicted, but forsaken never !
 
 XLIX. 
 
 THY FATHER'S FRIEND. 
 
 ORSAKE not thou thy father's friend, 
 Forsake not thou thine own ; 
 Though care and grief his form may 
 bow, 
 And frosts of age be on his brow, 
 And like a leafless willow now 
 He stand on earth alone. 
 
 Forsake not thou thy father's friend, 
 
 Revere the hoary head ; 
 Thou may'st have little to bestow 
 To lessen want, or lighten woe, 
 But who does not the solace know 
 
 Which kindly words can shed ! 
 
 Forsake not thou thy father's friend ; 
 So when thy strength is o'er,
 
 1 1 2 THY FA THEWS ERIE AH). 
 
 May'st thou ne'er want a friend in need, 
 Thy age to cheer, thy footsteps lead, 
 But he who is a " Friend indeed " 
 Be thine for evermore !
 
 L. 
 
 FEAR OF GOD AND FEAR OF MAN. 
 
 |HE fear of God most high— 
 It is a holy fear ■ 
 It makes us pass through life as those 
 Who know their Lord is near. 
 The fear of sinful man — 
 
 'Tis a debasing fear, 
 Shame will be theirs who dare not brave 
 A censure or a sneer. 
 
 It was the fear of God 
 
 By which the Hebrews three 
 
 Undaunted met the tyrant's frown- 
 Unmoved the flames could see. 
 
 It was the fear of man 
 
 Weak Pilate's breast within, 
 
 That stained his hands with guiltless blood, 
 
 His soul with blackest sin. 
 (m) 8
 
 IT4 FEAR OF GOD AND FEAR OF MAN. 
 
 No courage is like that 
 
 Which steadfast faith bestows ; 
 With God our Friend, we would be safe 
 
 Were all the world our foes ! 
 Faith but the duty sees 
 
 Where doubt would danger scan; 
 Tis through the fear of God alone 
 
 We crush the fear of man.
 
 LI. 
 
 THE SINNERS' PORTION. 
 
 |HO Wisdom's path forsakes 
 Leaves all true joy behind ; 
 He who the peace of others breaks, 
 No peace himself shall find. 
 Flowers above and thorns below, 
 Little pleasure, lasting woe, 
 Such is the fate that sinners know. 
 
 The drunkard gaily sings 
 
 Above his foaming glass, 
 But shame and pain the revel brings 
 
 Ere many hours can pass. 
 Flowers above and thorns below, 
 Little pleasure, lasting woe, 
 Such is the fate that sinners know. 
 
 The thief may count his gains ; — 
 
 If he the sum could see 
 Of future punishment and pains, 
 
 Sad would his reckoning be.
 
 u6 THE SINNERS PORTION. 
 
 Flowers above and thorns below, 
 Little pleasure, lasting woe, 
 Such is the fate that sinners know. 
 
 The Sabbath-breaker spurns 
 What Wisdom did ordain ; 
 God's rest to Satan's use he turns, 
 
 A blessing to a bane. 
 Flowers above and thorns below, 
 Little pleasure, lasting woe, 
 Such is the fate that sinners know. 
 
 O Lord, to Thee we pray, 
 
 Do Thou our faith increase, 
 Make us to walk in Wisdom's way, 
 
 The only way of peace ! 
 For flowers above and thorns below, 
 Little pleasure, lasting woe, 
 Such is the fate that sinners know.
 
 LII. 
 
 DEATH-BED HYMN. 
 
 TANDING upon the awful brink, 
 Almost too faint to pray or think, 
 Thou who canst pain and fear control, 
 My God, have mercy on my soul ! 
 
 A chilling gloom I feel within, 
 
 A trembling consciousness of sin ; 
 
 I cannot to my mind recall 
 
 What sins — but Thou hast marked them all. 
 
 Oh, let my soul some promise hear 
 From Thy blest Word to calm her fear ; 
 Oh, bid this doubt, this anguish cease — 
 My Saviour say, " Depart in peace ! " 
 
 Thou know'st I loved Thee, — weak might be 
 My faith — but it was fixed on Thee ; 
 Thou didst a gracious promise make — 
 Oh, save me for Thy mercy's sake !
 
 1 1 S DEA Til- BED 11 1 'MX. 
 
 Methinks I hear my Lord reply : 
 " Fear not, for I am ever nigh ; 
 In life — in death — beyond the grave — 
 My arm shall guide, support, and save. 
 
 " Thy ransom hath been paid by love, 
 Thy mansion is prepared above ; 
 No power of death, or hell, or sin, 
 From Me one pardoned soul shall win !"
 
 LIII. 
 
 SAVE ONE! 
 
 OULS are perishing before thee, 
 Save — save one ! 
 It may be thy crown of glory, 
 Save — save one ! 
 From the waves that would devour, 
 From the raging lion's power, 
 From destruction's fiery shower, 
 
 Save — save one ! 
 
 Not in thine own strength confiding, 
 Save — save one ; 
 Faith and prayer thy efforts guiding, 
 Save — save one ! 
 None can e'er, unless possessing 
 Heavenly aid and heavenly blessing, 
 To the work of mercy pressing, 
 Save e'en one.
 
 120 SAVE ONE! 
 
 Who the worth of souls can measure 1 
 Save — save one ! 
 
 Who can count the priceless treasure I 
 Save — save one ! 
 
 ] jke the stars shall shine, for ever 
 
 They who faithfully endeavour 
 
 Dying sinners to deliver, 
 
 Save — save one !
 
 ■ LIV. 
 NEW YEAR'S HYMN, 
 
 WRITTEN AT THE TIME OF THE INDIAN MUTINY, 1857. 
 
 [N the year that hath passed o'er us, 
 Many suffered woe and pain ; 
 'lime can ne'er the brave restore us, 
 Far in distant India slain. 
 
 Praying, praising, 
 Saints have joined the martyr-train. 
 
 But another year is dawning, 
 We are spared its light to see ; 
 
 May each blessing, may each warning, 
 Draw us nearer, Lord, to Thee — 
 
 Like Thy martyrs 
 Faithful unto death to be ! 
 
 May Thy Word, salvation bringing, 
 
 Shine where darkness now appears ; 
 Plenteous be the harvest springing,
 
 122 
 
 NEW YEAR'S HYMN. 
 
 'J 'hat was sown in blood and tears ;— 
 
 Light from darkness, 
 Joy from sorrow, hope from fears ! 
 
 Blessed hope now set before us, 
 
 Satan's slaves shall burst their thrall, 
 
 All the nations join the chorus 
 To the Lord who died for all ; — 
 
 Ransomed millions 
 At the Saviour's feet shall fall !
 
 THE INDIAN MAID. 
 
 The leading incidents in this poem are historical. The descendants of 
 Pocahontas are still to be found, I believe, in the United States. 
 
 HROUGH the majestic forest shade 
 The light of morn is faintly shin- 
 ing, 
 Scarce struggling through the twilight made 
 
 By leafy boughs entwining ; 
 As Nature, from the birth of Time, 
 
 Deep in this lone sequestered wood, 
 Had formed herself a bower sublime, 
 
 Where she might dwell with solitude, 
 And list the wild bird's note, nor fear 
 Man's guilty foot could wander here, 
 Or war's unhallowed trumpet wake 
 The slumbering echoes, rudely break 
 The solemn, deep, unearthly still, 
 Which to a stranger's soul must thrill 
 A sense of awe — as though he trod 
 A temple consecrate to God !
 
 126 THE INDIAN MAID. 
 
 Yet war can penetrate e'en here 
 
 To blight the beauties of creation, 
 Till Nature's calmest scenes appear 
 
 Dark haunts of desolation. 
 The murderer's sword hath left the sheath, 
 
 When from the bright pure heaven above, 
 And smiling earth, there seemed to breathe 
 
 But peace, and joy, and love. 
 And even now, when blushing morn, 
 On rosy clouds by zephyrs borne, 
 Comes in her laughing loveliness 
 The world to brighten and to bless, 
 It were more meet that heaven should shroud 
 Her radiant brow in some dark cloud, 
 And dewy tears of morning flow 
 For scenes of blood on earth below ! 
 
 See, in the forest's thickest maze 
 
 The dark-eyed Indian tribes assembling, 
 Free as the pure fresh breeze that plays 
 
 On leaves around them trembling. 
 Wild Nature's wilder sons, — each brow 
 
 The radiant sun of western lands 
 Hath kindled to a redder glow; 
 
 In painted pride the savage stands,
 
 THE INDIAN MAID. 127 
 
 So differing in garb — in skin — 
 
 In mien — he scarce might seem akin 
 
 To Europe's sons, did we not trace 
 
 In the dark features of his face 
 
 The same fierce passions, which declare 
 
 The race of Adam here and there, 
 
 And prove, alas ! we share with all 
 
 One common origin, and fall 1 
 
 But what white-bosomed victim here 
 
 Stands bound, a cruel death awaiting, 
 The dreadful preparations near 
 
 Now firmly contemplating, — 
 Now raising calm his thoughtful eye 
 
 Where, through the boughs that intervene 
 Of Nature's verdant canopy, 
 
 Bright glimpses are of heaven seen 1 
 Reflects he on the murderous doom 
 Which destines him a bloody tomb, 
 Sudden cut off, before his time, 
 In honour's course, in manhood's prime, — 
 On projects that with him must die, 
 Hopes ripening to reality, 
 But blasted ere their fruits afford 
 To science its well-earned reward 1
 
 128 THE INDIAN MAID. 
 
 Or thinks he on the distant land 
 
 To which life's earliest ties have bound him, 
 Where last he grasped his father's hand, 
 
 And felt his mother's arms around him \ 
 Above these savage yells of death 
 
 Does memory hear the low deep prayer 
 Her trembling lips could scarcely breathe, 
 
 That God might shield him everywhere? 
 'Tis answered, yes, that prayer of love, 
 Scarce heard on earth, has reached above ! 
 Though fixed his doom, though Death e'en now 
 Stands prompt— he may not strike the blow ! 
 Twice did the trembling compass * give 
 A respite, — wonder bade him live ; 
 But other succour now must save 
 The hero from untimely grave. 
 
 For lo ! behold, with savage joy 
 
 His foes their victim now surrounding, 
 
 Eager to smite and to destroy, 
 The woods with yells resounding ! 
 
 Calm and resigned he kneels in dust, 
 Lays on the stone his manly head, 
 
 * Captain Smith, the captive here mentioned, twice diverted the In- 
 dians from their murderous intentions, by drawing their attention to the 
 marvels of the needle.
 
 THE INDIAN MAID. 1 29 
 
 And waits the crushing blows, that must 
 
 Number him with the dead; 
 When, like the bright celestial bow 
 Which, when the angry tempests blow, 
 And heaven's bolts from high are hurled — 
 Speaks peace and mercy to the world — 
 Forward there springs an Indian maid. 
 As light as fawn in forest glade, 
 Her cheek with generous ardour glowing, 
 O'er her slight form the dark hair flowing, 
 While firm resolve, and feeling high, 
 Sparkle in her soul-speaking eye. 
 
 "O Father, spare the chief!" she cries, 
 
 Before her parent interceding, 
 Her clasped hands, and eloquent eyes, 
 
 More than her accents pleading ; 
 " Was he not brave in war, and kind 
 
 And true in peace 1 did he e'er break 
 The solemn wampum league, or bind 
 
 The captive to the stake 1 
 For him a wife afar may sigh, 
 A lonely mother mourning die, 
 For who shall now with sounding bow 
 Bring down for them the elk or roe, 
 
 (171) 9
 
 13° THE INDIAN MAID. 
 
 Whose hatchet shall defend their home 
 When hostile tribes with war-cries come ? 
 Oh ! spare the white chief, that his voice 
 His wife's sad bosom may rejoice ; 
 Oh ! spare him, that his hand may dry 
 The teardrop in his mother's eye !" 
 
 But stern the Indian's answer - vain 
 
 Her pleading words, her warm endeavour, 
 The murderers' clubs are raised again 
 
 To crush the brave for ever ! 
 Lo ! from her knees the maiden springs, 
 
 Rapid as lightning's flash above, 
 As guardian angels spread their wings 
 
 O'er mortals that they love, 
 Around the Doomed her arms are thrown, 
 His form protected by her own, 
 With him will she the worst await, 
 And save his life, or share his fate ! 
 "Strike him!" she cries, "but 'neath the blow 
 His blood and mine shall mingled flow ; 
 Strike him ! but in the spirit-land 
 With him shall Pocahontas stand, 
 Nor live to say her tribe hath slain 
 The chief for whom she prayed in vain !"
 
 THE INDIAN MAID. 131 
 
 There is a spell in woman's eye 
 
 When, injured Virtue's cause defending, 
 Her soul is roused to energy, 
 
 Vigour with sweetness blending ! 
 Soft plumes that tremble in the air 
 
 Have formed a breastplate strong to save, 
 And woman's heart will oft-times dare 
 
 What might appal the brave ! 
 E'en the rude Indians feel the power 
 Of courage equal to the hour, 
 Catch virtues warm inspiring glow 
 And more than mercy asked, bestow. 
 Rise, Briton, rise, both safe and free, 
 With life receive back liberty ; 
 Spring from the spot of sacrifice 
 From which thou ne'er didst hope to rise ; 
 Or rather, once more prostrate fall 
 To bless the God who saved from all ! 
 
 Not long the dark-eyed maiden hears 
 His grateful words of deep devotion, 
 
 They part — to meet in future years 
 Beyond the heaving ocean. 
 " Go, stranger, to thy distant home," 
 
 Thus flowed her simple, wild farewell,
 
 1 3 2 THE INDIA N MA ID. 
 
 " When thy pale tribes to greet thee come, 
 Then of the Red man's mercy tell ! 
 And when the round sun leaves the sky 
 To light the Indian forests high, 
 Say thou hast left a daughter there, 
 And bid him here thy greetings bear ! 
 And oh ! if e'er a Red man be 
 Thy captive, then remember me; 
 If weary -footed Indian pray 
 For shelter, turn not thou away, 
 But to my race a father be, 
 As thou hast found a child in me !" 
 
 Sweet maid ! she little dreamed how near 
 
 The hour when she — a captive mourning- 
 A Briton's voice her grief would cheer, 
 
 The White man's debt returning ; 
 When Rolfe with tenderest care essayed 
 
 The maiden's flowing tears to dry, 
 Until captivity he made 
 
 More sweet than liberty ! 
 Amidst her grief, amidst her fear, 
 Love's melting tones first reached her ear, 
 And oli ! has life one dark distress 
 That sweet voice cannot soothe or bless !
 
 THE INDIAN MAID. 133 
 
 It was as though the raging blast 
 
 Had o'er some silent harp-strings past, 
 
 And waked so soft, so wild a strain 
 
 (As joy still owes its zest to pain), 
 
 The spirit of the storm drew near, 
 
 Closed his dark wings, and paused to hear ! 
 
 And with Rolfe's heart she learned to share 
 
 His hopes, on heavenward pinion soaring, 
 And with him knelt in humble prayer, 
 
 The Christian's God adoring. 
 The sacred tie has made them one, 
 
 That tie which death alone can part, 
 Love's circlet on her hand hath shone, 
 
 Love's torch within her heart ; 
 And she hath quitted that wild shore 
 Her tearful eyes shall view no more, 
 And, wafted by the western wind, 
 Left all that once she loved behind. 
 Honours in Albion's isle attend 
 The Indian bride, the captive's friend ; 
 From royal lips * her praises sound, 
 Her generous deed with fame is crowned. 
 
 * Pocahontas was presented to James I.
 
 13 [ THE INDIAN MAID. 
 
 But precious to her soul, above 
 
 All fame, her husband's smile of love, 
 
 Or Smith's proud glance, when she would claim 
 
 Once more a daughter's cherished name. 
 
 But oh ! how close the sacred ties 
 
 That to our native country bind us, 
 In foreign scenes the heart still sighs 
 
 For dearer left behind us ! 
 She longed to see the waving woods, 
 
 Her dark -haired sire, her Indian shore, 
 Her spirit yearned to cross the floods 
 
 And view her native soil once more. 
 But ere the vessel left the strand, 
 Sickness, with damp and heavy hand 
 Stayed the fair wanderer, like a spell 
 Unseen, but irresistible, 
 For death in his pale bark had come 
 To waft her to a brighter home. 
 Brief was the passage, but how vast 
 The space in those short seconds past ! 
 One moment Rolfe in wild distress 
 Hung o'er her fading loveliness, 
 Met her long dying gaze of love. 
 Saw her pale lips in blessing move,
 
 THE INDIAN MAID. 135 
 
 The next — and her immortal soul 
 Had crossed the floods, and reached the goal, 
 And he was left to mourn its flight, 
 Till death, that severed them, should re- 
 unite !
 
 ir. 
 
 BLANCHE. 
 
 IFE'S deep afflictions not alone demand 
 Devout submission to th' Almighty's 
 will, 
 
 The flower nursed by dew, by breezes fanned, 
 Yet may the slow-corroding canker kill, 
 While all around it smiles, it fadeth still ; 
 Such is the thankless heart which — pleasure-cloyed — 
 
 Turns from surrounding good to fancied ill, 
 And forms within itself a cheerless void 
 'Mid blessings unacknowledged, pleasures unen- 
 joyed. 
 
 Oh ! deem ye not them sufferers alone 
 
 Whom poverty consumes, or cares oppress, 
 
 Who mourn o'er health departed, hopes o'erthrown, 
 ( )r — severed from a parent's fond caress — 
 kind the world changed into a wilderness ;
 
 BLANCHE. 137 
 
 As deep the desolation of a mind 
 
 (With all to cheer it, and with all to bless) 
 That, to its own self-fostered gloom resigned, 
 Rejects the happiness God bade it seek and find. 
 
 My parents, faithful soldiers of the Cross, 
 
 Had o'er successive offspring closed the tomb, 
 
 And — ere my infant heart could know its loss— 
 They too had sunk beneath the mortal doom, — 
 My life, in sorrow passed, commenced in gloom. 
 
 Yet friends were left ; the patriarch of our line 
 For my sake would a parent's cares resume, 
 
 And his mild consort, then in life's decline, 
 
 As she had watched my father's youth would watch 
 o'er mine. 
 
 With tenderness did they their charge fulfil, 
 
 In the retirement of a peaceful spot; 
 But ah ! not theirs the strength to curb the will, 
 
 To train Christ's soldier for a trying lot. 
 
 Offences gently chidden — and forgot, 
 The wavering denial, weak delay, 
 
 And threat — by punishment succeeded not, 
 Marred in the morn the promise of the day, 
 The Christian child's first lesson should be to obey.
 
 138 BLANCHE. 
 
 Cruel, misjudging tenderness ! how soon 
 
 The plant by weakness nursed bore fruit in woe! 
 The branch which love with gentle hand might 
 prune, 
 
 Reserved to fall 'neath God's chastising blow ! 
 
 Can they the toils of warfare undergo 
 Whose childhood knows no wish ungratified % 
 
 Oh ! check the first advances of the foe, 
 Stay at the source the quickly-swelling tide, — 
 From reason's dawn must thou for good or ill decide. 
 
 Time fleeted by, — I was a child no more, 
 
 But with my growth, alas ! the evil grew. 
 I loved creation's wonders to explore, 
 
 But on the world within ne'er fixed my view. 
 
 Eager the paths of science to pursue, 
 By praise encouraged, and by pride impelled, 
 
 The charmed task each day would I renew, 
 And, while my bosom with vainglory swelled, 
 Measured myself by those I deemed that I excelled. 
 
 And was I happy? no, the unbridled mind 
 May soar too freely through the fields of air, 
 
 In its own liberty a bondage find ; 
 
 My spirits were not bound by earthly care,
 
 BLANCHE. '39 
 
 No loss had I to weep, no frowns to bear. 
 My own enjoyment was my single aim, 
 
 I sought it upon earth, nor found it there, 
 Satiety and disappointment came, — 
 "Oh, that I were a man to win the meed of fame !" 
 
 I longed for something lofty — undefined — 
 
 A kindred soul to mingle with my own, 
 A destiny more worthy of a mind 
 
 Now amidst uncongenial spirits thrown. 
 
 By friends surrounded — yet I stood alone: 
 Self was the gilded idol I adored ; 
 
 Had I Christ's strength and my own weakness 
 known, 
 Soon had that idol felt the gospel sword, 
 Low levelled in the dust before my conquering Lord! 
 
 Yet was I ardent in religious cause, 
 
 Impiety I scorned — denounced — despised; 
 
 No warrior his holy weapon draws 
 
 With zeal more fervent than I exercised 
 When faithlessness in others I chastised ; 
 
 My spirit kindled at the martyr's tale, 
 There were my dreams of glory realized ; 
 
 Oh ! where their faith prevailed would mine prevail, 
 
 Could soul so ardent in the fiery trial fail 1
 
 UO BLANCHE. 
 
 I felt not then that in life's loneliest way 
 A glorious warfare may the Christian wage; 
 
 Humbly to honour, meekly to obey, 
 In charity's mild duties to engage, 
 And gently soothe the fretfulness of age, — 
 
 Such is the sacred post to woman given ; 
 
 Home is her battle-field ; the strife must rage 
 
 Till sin and self are from their empire driven : 
 
 Will not the victor rest with martyr-saints in heaven? 
 
 With weariness I viewed my rural life, 
 
 Hid from a world in which I hoped to shine, — 
 
 Better the press of care, the toil of strife, 
 Than thus in an insipid calm to pine, 
 Watching my aged guardian's slow decline; 
 
 Youth was, I deemed, the season for delight, 
 E'en should its sorrows with its joys be mine, 
 
 The deepest shadows mark the brightest light, 
 
 Dim is the hour when both in one dull hue unite ! 
 
 Sin may invite the soul; by discontent 
 The wayward soul herself inviteth sin ; 
 
 I sought a trial — God the trial sent. 
 
 One formed a colder heart than mine to win,
 
 BLANCHE. M' 
 
 Lighted the soul-consuming torch within : 
 Montoro sought my hand, his lips revealed 
 
 His love ; I felt another life begin, — 
 To fervent love must self his empire yield, — 
 No, for that love itself was selfishness concealed ! 
 
 What though Montoro's highborn parents frowned 
 
 Upon his union with a lowly maid; 
 Though upon means already slender found, 
 
 A second burden thus would now be laid, — 
 
 Although with darkened sight, and strength de- 
 cayed, 
 My widowed grandsire claimed a daughter's care,— 
 
 What was it to a soul by passion swayed 1 
 His lonely dwelling now must strangers share, 
 No daughter's voice to raise the hymn, or join the 
 prayer. 
 
 'Twas on a summer morn I left my home, 
 
 Buoyant with hope and long-sought happiness, 
 
 Yet did a feeling of misgiving come 
 
 When, folded in the old man's last caress, 
 He in his trembling accents strove to bless 
 
 The child who left him lonely, aged, and blind 
 E'en then my bosom would the thought oppress,
 
 142 BLANCHE. 
 
 " Deserter from the post by God assigned, 
 
 Wilt thou again on earth a love so faithful find \ " 
 
 Twas but a transitory thought ; my soul 
 
 Exulted in an earthly paradise; 
 Impetuous hope had reached its wished-for goal, 
 
 And I could bear to see the tear-drops rise 
 
 Within those dear and venerable eyes, 
 Could joyous from my childhood's home depart; 
 
 For him I loved too great no sacrifice, 
 Care had no weight, and poverty no smart ; 
 He was the treasure of my soul, the idol of my 
 heart ! 
 
 Time roused me slowly from my golden dream, 
 Love, born in smiles, survived to mourn in tears; 
 
 Earth's brightest blessings are not what they seem ; 
 Beneath the sober influence of years 
 Fancy's gay blossoms fade, and truth appears. 
 
 When word or frown impatient care betrayed, 
 My wounded soul could not disguise her fears 
 
 That now my lord with colder feelings weighed 
 
 And felt the sacrifice which blinded love had 
 made.
 
 BLANCHE. 143 
 
 And what I felt I spoke ; my untamed soul 
 The task of patient love had yet to learn, 
 
 Each word, each look, each feeling to control, 
 Harshness with meek submission to return, 
 By charms more lasting, love more lasting earn. 
 
 This to my spirit was a task unknown ; 
 
 My lip would quiver, and my cheek would burn, 
 
 By glance reproachful and upbraiding tone 
 
 I marred Montoro's happiness — and crushed my 
 own. 
 
 Hardships and cares, by eager love defied, 
 Heavy upon my weary spirit pressed, — 
 
 The struggle between poverty and pride, — 
 111 could my temper bear the bitter test, 
 Exhausted hope could find no place of rest ; 
 
 I, for the love of one, had all resigned, 
 And now my heart in bitterness confessed, 
 
 Though faithful love might yet remain behind, 
 
 It was no more the light of joy, the sunbeam of the 
 mind. 
 
 Yet I content, nay, happy might have proved, 
 Could I have meekly stooped the yoke to bear, 
 
 Nor sought perfection in the man I loved ; 
 
 But I had hoped a heaven on earth to share, —
 
 144 BLANCHE. 
 
 Too ardent hope rebounds into despair. 
 When pride or passion fix the nuptial chain, 
 
 Time must the gilding from the fetters wear, — 
 Love's golden links alone unchanged remain, 
 Hallowed by faith, to be renewed in Heaven again. 
 
 I now approach the crisis of my woes. 
 
 One, known in early life, again I met ; — 
 With proud disdain I had regarded those 
 
 Who — low by birth, by nature lower — yet 
 
 Their upstart confidence in riches set ; 
 And could I calmly Agnes now behold 
 
 Her brow encircled with a coronet, 
 Endure her haughty smile, her greeting cold, 
 Who owed her triumph solely to the power of gold ? 
 
 I felt the press of poverty, and she 
 Had only to desire — and to possess ; 
 
 Yet why should sight of her prosperity 
 Add to my cup one drop of bitterness 1 
 Her luxuries made not my comforts less. 
 
 I know it now, though my deluded heart 
 
 Would then have scorned its weakness to confess; 
 
 Envy had fixed within his venomed dart, 
 
 And love had no sweet balm to heal the wounded part.
 
 BLANCHE. 145 
 
 Hate's ready weapon, ridicule, I sought, 
 
 The lightest word may give the deepest wound, — 
 
 Montoro's sparkling wit the impulse caught, 
 
 His jests, by malice circulated round, 
 
 Too soon a fatal destination found. 
 Words are but breath, but breath may kindle flame 
 
 Destined to level cities with the ground ! 
 My God, from Thy dread wrath the judgment came, 
 But oh ! my guilt, my wretchedness were still the 
 same ! 
 
 A fatal sword hung o'er my head unknown, 
 Yawned at my feet a precipice unseen ! 
 
 One morn Montoro had gone forth alone, 
 Methought there was a sadness in his mien, 
 And tender had his words at parting been ; 
 
 A long fond kiss upon our babe he prest, 
 Still in her cradle slumbering serene : 
 
 The tide of love gushed warmer in my breast, 
 
 His glance recalled the hours when first that love 
 was blest. 
 
 Thrice the accumulating mound of sand 
 
 Marked in my glass the hours that passed away, 
 
 I turned it listlessly with weary hand, 
 
 And marvelled at Montoro's long delay : 
 m) 10
 
 i.J r > BLANCHE. 
 
 Heavy with mist and rain advanced the day; 
 My babe awoke and wept, her cry of fear 
 
 I strove to soothe with melancholy lay, 
 And bore her, sobbing, to the casement near, 
 And bade her infant accents call her father dear. 
 
 Upon the dreary prospect forth I gazed; 
 
 Poured from the lowering sky incessant rain, 
 The trees their dark and dripping branches raised, 
 
 Reflected dimly on the flooded plain, 
 
 Trickled the raindrops down the misty pane ; 
 The wind in sudden gusts our dwelling shook, 
 
 Then sank, in mournful murmurs to complain ; 
 With heavy heart the casement I forsook, 
 While to my early home her flight sad memory took. 
 
 " Where is the happiness I thought to find 
 
 When forth I went, a young rejoicing bride \ 
 Springs grief from earthly trials, or a mind 
 
 For ever restless and dissatisfied ? 
 
 Montoro's love outweighed the world beside, — 
 Is it his wife's misfortune or her sin 
 
 That petty cares so oft our hearts divide? 
 Oh, that another era might begin, 
 And life's storms but enhance the holy peace within!
 
 BLANCHE. 147 
 
 " My childhood's friend I in his age forsook, — 
 
 The old man sleeps beneath the grassy sod ! 
 To frown of care is changed the joyous look 
 
 With which Montoro once life's garden trod ; 
 
 God gave me life, — I have not lived to God ! 
 My threefold duties I neglected see, — 
 
 Great God ! suspend awhile thy chastening rod ! 
 Oh, come, my husband, life henceforth shall be 
 Devoted unto piety and thee ! " 
 
 He came- — but oh ! how did Montoro come? 
 
 Why did I live to look on his return? 
 Bleeding and pale they bore him to his home. 
 
 Life glimmered faintly, — I had yet to learn 
 
 The hopeless grief that must for ever burn 
 Within the widow's desolated breast : 
 
 Enough — mine eyes have seen Montoro's urn ; 
 One tie is left — one treasure still possest, — 
 The shadow of despair is cast on all the rest ! 
 
 There is no wretchedness where sin is not, — 
 Religion may relieve the darkest woes, 
 
 All — save remorse — be softened or forgot — 
 But where can she — the guilty — find repose,
 
 148 
 
 BLANCHE. 
 
 Whose anguish from her own transgression flows? 
 My pride — my envy bade Montoro die, 
 
 His life embittered, stained with blood its close ! 
 Aye, weep ye who can weep — but I — but I 
 My heart weeps tears of blood, and yet mine eyes 
 are dry !
 
 III. 
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 |ROUD — and of what! poor vain and help- 
 less worm 
 Crawling in weakness through thy life's 
 brief term, 
 Yet filled with thoughts presumptuous, bold, and 
 
 high, 
 As though thy grovelling soul could scan the sky, 
 As though thy wisdom, which can not foreshow 
 What one day brings of coming weal or woe, 
 Could pierce the depths of far futurity, 
 And all the winged shafts of fate defy ! 
 
 Art proud of riches 1 of the glittering dust 
 Each day may rob thee of, and one day must, 
 When mines of wealth will purchase no delay, 
 When dust to dust must turn, and clay to clay, 
 And nought remain to thee of all possest, 
 Save one dark cell in earth's unconscious breast !
 
 150 PRIDE. 
 
 Or proud of power? on this little ball 
 Some petty tract may thee its master call, 
 Some fellow-mortals, bending lowly down, 
 Bask in thy smile, or tremble at thy frown ; 
 Great in the world's eyes, in thine own how great, 
 How swells thy breast with conscious pride elate ! 
 
 And art thou great 1 lift up — lift up thine eyes, 
 Survey the heavens, gaze into the skies, — 
 View the fair worlds -that glitter o'er thy head, 
 Orb above orb in bright succession spread, 
 Beyond the reach of sight, the power of thought, — 
 Then turn thy gaze to earth, and thou art — nought; 
 The globe itself a speck — an atom thou ! 
 Oh, child of dust, shall pride exalt thee now .' 
 In one thing only thou mayst glory still, 
 And let exulting joy thy bosom fill, — 
 Glory in this — and what is all beside, — 
 That for this worm — this atom — Christ hath died ! 
 
 Does conscious genius fire thy haughty mind, 
 Geriius, that raises man above his kind, 
 The lofty soul that soars on wing of fire, 
 While crowds at distance marvel and admire / 
 Oh! while the charmed world pays her homage just, 
 Remember every talent is a trust,
 
 PRIDE. I 5 I 
 
 A treasure God doth to thy care confide, 
 
 A cause for gratitude, but none for pride. 
 
 If thou that precious talent misapply, 
 
 To spread the flood of infidelity, 
 
 To strew with flowers the paths which sinners tread, 
 
 To hide one treacherous snare by Satan spread, — 
 
 How blest, how great, compared to thee, the man 
 
 Whose life obscurely ends as it began, 
 
 To whose meek soul no knowledge ere was given 
 
 Save that— of all most high— that lifts the soul to 
 
 Heaven. 
 For, as the sun's pure radiance, streaming bright, 
 Transcends the glow-worm's dim and fading light, 
 The wisdom to that man vouchsafed from high 
 Excells the earth-born fires that flash— and die ! 
 
 Oh ! where shall pride securely harbour then, 
 Where urge his claims to rule the minds of men 1 
 Blest Eden knew him not, — where all was fair, 
 Where all was faultless, — pride abode not there. 
 The glorious angels are above his sway, 
 Their bliss to minister — to serve — obey ; 
 We — only we — poor children of a day, 
 Tread haughtily the ground for our sakes curst, 
 And wear with pride the chains our Surety burst !
 
 152 PRIDE. 
 
 Would that the world could know and truly prize 
 That which is great in the Creator's eyes ! 
 The poor man, bending o'er his scanty store, 
 Who, with God's presence blest, desires no more ; 
 Who feels his sins, his weakness, though his ways 
 Be just and pure beyond all human praise ; 
 Whose humble thoughts well with his prayer accord, 
 " Have mercy upon me, a sinner, Lord ! " 
 Who, heir of an eternal, heavenly throne, 
 Rests all his hopes on Christ, and Christ alone/ 
 Wisest of men — for he alone is wise ; 
 Richest of men — secure his treasure lies ; 
 Greatest of men — his mansion is on high ; 
 His Father — God ; his portion — immortality !
 
 IV. 
 
 A DREAM OF THE SECOND ADVENT. 
 
 DREAMED that in the stilly hush of night- 
 Deep midnight — I was startled from my 
 sleep 
 
 By a clear sound as of a trumpet ! Loud 
 It swelled, and louder, thrilling every nerve, 
 Making the heart beat wildly, strangely, till 
 All other senses seemed in hearing lost. 
 Up from my couch I sprang in trembling haste, 
 Cast on my garments, wondering to behold 
 Through half-closed shutters sudden radiance gleam, 
 More clear, more vivid than the glare of day ! 
 What marvel, then, that with a breathless hope 
 That gave me wings, forth from my home I rushed, 
 Though heaved the earth as if instinct with life, 
 Its very dust awakening ! Can it be — 
 Is this the call, " Behold the Bridegroom comes !" 
 Comes He, the long-expected — long-desired 1 ?
 
 154 A DREAM OF THE SECOND ADVENT. 
 
 Crowds thronged the street, with every face up- 
 turned, 
 Gazing into the sky — the flaming sky — 
 Where every cloud was like a throne of light. 
 None could look back, not even to behold 
 If those beloved were nigh; one thrilling thought 
 Rapt all the multitude—" Can He be near ! " 
 
 Then cries of terror rose — I scarcely heard ; 
 
 And buildings shook, and rocked, and crashing fell — 
 
 I scarcely marked their fall; the trembling ground 
 
 Rose like the billowy sea — I scarcely felt 
 
 The motion, such intensity of hope — 
 
 joy — expectation — flooded all my soul, 
 
 A tide of living light, o'erwhelming all 
 
 The hopes and fears, the cares and woes of earth ! 
 
 Could any doubt remain ] Lo ! from afar 
 
 A sound of " Hallelujah !" ne'er before 
 
 Had mortal ear drunk in such heavenly strain, 
 
 Save when on Bethlehem's plain the shepherds heard 
 
 The music of the skies ! 
 
 Behold ! behold ! 
 Like white-winged angels rise the radiant throng 
 That from yon cemetery's gloomy verge 
 Have burst, immortal — glorious — undefiled !
 
 A DREAM OF THE SECOND ADVENT. 155 
 
 Bright as the sun their crowns celestial shine, 
 
 Yet I behold them with undazzled eye ! 
 
 Oh ! that yon glittering canopy of light 
 
 Would burst asunder, that I might behold 
 
 Him whom so long, not seeing, I have loved ! 
 
 It parted — lo ! it opened — as I stood 
 
 With clasped hands stretched towards heav'n, my 
 
 eager gaze 
 
 Fixed on the widening glory ! 
 
 Suddenly, 
 As if the burden of the flesh no more 
 Could fetter down the aspiring soul to earth, 
 As if the fleshly nature were consumed — 
 Lost in the glowing ecstasy of love — 
 I soared aloft, I mounted through the air 
 Free as a spirit, rose to meet my Lord 
 'With such a cry of rapture — that I woke ! 
 
 Oh ! misery, to wake in darkness, wake 
 
 From vision of unutterable joy, 
 
 Instead of trumpet-sound and song of heaven, 
 
 To hear the dull clock measuring out time, 
 
 When I had seemed to touch eternity ! 
 
 In the first pang of disappointed hope, 
 
 I wept that I could wake from such a dream.
 
 156 A DREAM OE THE SECOND ADVENT. 
 
 Until Faith gently whispered, "Wherefore weep 
 To lose the faint dim shadow of a joy 
 Of which the substance shall one day be thine % 
 Live in the hope, — that hope shall brighten life 
 And sanctify it to its highest end." 
 
 Fast roll the chariot wheels of time. He comes ! 
 The Spirit and the Bride expectant wait, — 
 Even so come, Lord Jesus ! Saviour — come !
 
 Into* fa Jfrrst ipnes. 
 
 . HYMNS. 
 
 Tnge 
 
 After labour sweet is rest 34 
 
 A helpless sinner in Thy sight 39 
 
 A holy warfare, Lord, is mine 79 
 
 An angel of comfort from heaven sped r8 
 
 At the foot of the Cross where my Saviour is bleeding 102 
 
 Before the morning's toil begin 49 
 
 Day after day my weary task I ply 5 1 
 
 Death is not dreadful, no ! 106 
 
 Earth's bright hopes must fade 3 1 
 
 Ere our first parents fell, the ground 67 
 
 Far from the friends to me most dear 39 
 
 Father of Heaven, Thy guidance we implore 43 
 
 " Feed thou My lambs," the Saviour said 47 
 
 Forsake not thou thy father's friend m 
 
 Forth from the city gate of Nain 95 
 
 Help me, Lord Jesus, to fulfil 7 1 
 
 How beautiful is Nature's face ! 75 
 
 How highly blest were those who saw 85 
 
 How swiftly flies man's mortal thread 41 
 
 I bless Thee, Lord, in early spring 69 
 
 I cannot see the sunny gleam 23 
 
 I dare not raise my guilty eye 2I 
 
 I do not dare, O holy Lord *5 
 
 In daily rounds my constant course I keep 6'
 
 158 INDEX. 
 
 In the silence of night when the stars glimmer o'er me 57 
 
 In the year that hath passed o'er us 121 
 
 I've laid the earth above the child 27 
 
 I would not take what is not mine, for hoards of wealth untold 53 
 
 " Lord ! canest Thou not that we perish ! " 88 
 
 Not alone in God's house, or in seasons of prayer 73 
 
 Now in the East Hope's trembling light 29 
 
 God of Hosts, our fathers' God 77 
 
 Souls are perishing before thee 119 
 
 Standing upon the awful brink 117 
 
 The awful night hath passed, the day 100 
 
 The balmy spring awakes the flowers 35 
 
 The day of life is closing 104 
 
 The fear of God most high 113 
 
 The precious blood of Christ my Lord 11 
 
 There is a sword of glittering sheen 32 
 
 There were fishermen once by the blue Galilee 45 
 
 The Sabbath sun has risen high 55 
 
 The stately mansion riseth beneath the builder's banc 25 
 
 The summer blossoms fast decay 13 
 
 To whom do I obedience owe 63 
 
 When from the branches' leafy screen 92 
 
 When in our breasts we feel the flame of love 97 
 
 When on Zion's hill we rest 37 
 
 When Peter by the miracle 9° 
 
 When shades of night around him close 16 
 
 When verdant fields art seen no more 65 
 
 Where is thy new-born Lord, O Judah? Zion — where thy King?. .. 81 
 
 Who wisdom's path forsakes »5 
 
 Why dread the future, trembling one I I 
 
 POEMS. 
 
 1 dreamed that in the stilly hush of night 153 
 
 Life's deep afflictions not alone demand 136 
 
 Proud — and of what ! poor vain and helpless worm 149 
 
 Through the majestic forest shade 125
 
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