THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES GIFT OF Professor ^alb ne Graham \'^ HYMNS OT FAITH AND HOPE. BY HORATIUS BONAR, D.D., K E L6 O, AVTHOB OP THE "NIGHT OF TS-EEPINO," "THK MOKNINQ OP JOT," ETtt NEW YORK: ROBERT CARTER & BROTHERS, N ■>. 530 BROADWAY. 1866. • lEBEOITPED BT S.B.THOMSON, PBINTED BT TBOMAS B. SMITH, BINDER, E.O.JENKIJIf 82 & S^ lieekman Street. 82 & 81 Beekman St. hQUL n t e n 1 0. DiyiNE ORDKR. LEFT BEHIND . . A STRANGER HERE. . OCEAN TEACHINGS... KO MORE SEA. . . .. . THE CHANGE THE CLOUDLESS. . . . THE HOME SICKNESS TAJS 9 . 11 TH^ MEETING- PLACE 13 16 20 22 24 , 2G 28 THE LAND OF LIGHT 31 THE SEEN AND THE UNSEEN 33 ADVENT 39 DAWN 41 RETURN UNTO THY REST 43 THE MORNING STAR 46 THINGS HOPED FOR 47 THROUGH DEATH TO LIFE 50 HORA NOTISSIMA 53 THE NIGHT COMETH 56 THE DAT AFTER ARMAGEDDON 58 REST YONDER 63 HOW LONG ! 64 A LITTLE WHILE GO NOT VERY FAR CD THE EVERLASTING MEMORIAL 7] 929626 VI CONTENTS. PAGB OUR ONE LIFE 74 THE COXSOLATION IG THE REAL *? 8 NOT HERE , 80 NOT NOW 81 light's teachings 82 earth's beauty 86 the night and the morning 8T HOPE OP DAY 88 DAY-SPRING 91 DUST TO DUST ' ^4 ARISE AND DEPART 97 THE KINGDOM 100 NEWLY FALLEN ASLEEP 102 THE FLESH RESTING IN HOPE 107 REST 110 A pilgrim's song 112 QUIS SEPARABIT 115 FAR BETTER 117 WANDERING DOWN 119 THE ROD 122 STRENGTH BY THE WAY 127 THE FEAST 128 THE STRANGER SEA-BIRD 129 HOPE DEFERRED 132 THE BLANK 135 THE SLEEP OF THE BELOVED 136 THE LITTLE FLOCK . • 138 THE NAME OF NAMES I'll MINE ANT) THINE 1^4 ABIDE IN HIM 145 THE BELOVED SON 14 7 THE SIN BEARER 1'19 CONTENTS. VU PAGB THE SUBSTITUTE 1^2 LOST BUT FOUN^D 154 THE WORD HADE FLESH l''^6 THE DARKNESS AND THE LIGHT l-'JS THE VOICE FROM GALILEE. 150 A EEIHLEHEM HYilX 1 '^'' THIS DO IN REME5IDRANCE OF JIE 1 1^- CHRIST OUR PEACE '^^^ god's ISRAEL 1^*5 THE SHADOW OF THE CROSS 167 child's prayer 163 child's MORNING HYMN 3 G9 TO M. L. E I'i^l THE TWO ERAS OP THE LAND I'i-i martyr's hymn 1''6 sursum corda i'^s the rest-day 1 '•' 9 the inner calm 181 the disburdenixg 18-5 companionship 185 THE HEAVENLY SOWING. 186 DISAPPOINTMENT 188 THE TIME TO MEET ^^'^ GONE BEFORE 1^^ THE ELDER BROTHER, 104 LIFE FROM THE DEAD 1^6 EVER NEAR ^ ^^ IT IS FINISHED 1^8 PRESS ON '-0*^ LAUS DEO -'-"■" CREATION 203 r DESERT LILIES -'^''^ BUMMEB GLADNESS 2 1 C VU! CONTENTS. PAOB TUE FIlIiiX'D 212 THE ELAXK 214 CHOOSE WELL 21 G 'twas I THAT WD IT 217 THE USEFUL LIFE 219 PASSING THROUGH 221 FORWARD 223 NOTHING BETWEEN 226 FOLLOW THOU ME 228 VANITY 230 MACHPELAH 232 OLD WORDS 234 THE OLD JEW ON MOUNT MOBIAH 237 THE SHEPHERDS' PLAIN 240 COME, LORD 246 THY WAY, NOT MINE 249 ALLELUIA 251 LIVE 253 THE martyr's GRAVE 255 ALL WELL 258 LINKS 259 THE RESURRECTION OP THE JUST 262 THE PRAYER 263 THE OITY... 265 HYMNS OF FAITH AND HOPE. DIVINE ORDER. 'Tis first the true and then the beautiful, Not first the beautiful and then the true ; First the wild moor, with rock and reed and pool, Then the gay garden, rich in scent and hue. 'Tis first the good and then the beautiful, — Not first the beautiful and then the good ; First the rough seed, sown in the rougher soil, Then the flower-blossom, or the branching wciod. Not first the glad and then the sorrowful, — But first the sorrowful, and then the glad ; Tears for -i day,— for earth of tears is full, Then we forget that we were ever sad. 10 DIVINE ORDER Not first the bright, and after tliat the dark, — But first the dark, aud after that the bright ; First the thick cloud, and tlien the rainbow's arc, First the dark grave, then resui'rection-ligbt. 'Tis first the night, — stern night of storm and war,— Long nights of heavy clouds and veiled skies ; Then the far sparkle of the Morning-star, That bids the saints awake and dawn arise. LEFT BEHIND. Look at this starbeam ! From its place ol birth, It has come down to greet us here below ; Now it alights unwearied on this earth, Nor storm nor night have quenched its heavenly glow. Unbent before the winter's rugged blast, Unsoiled by this sad planet's tainted air, It sparkles out from yon unmeasured vast, Bright 'mid the brightest, 'mid the fidrest fair. Undimmed it reaches me ; but yet alone : The thousand gay companions that took wing A-long with it have perished one by one, Scattered o'er space like blossoms of the spring. Some to yon nearer orbs have sped their course. Yon city's smoke has quenched a thousand more ; Myiiads in yon dark cloud have spent their force ; A few stray gleams are all that reach our shore. 12 LEFT BEHIND. And with us ! How many, wlio began Life's race with us, are dropping by the way ; Losing themselves in darkness one by one. From the glad goal departing wide astray I When we shall reach the kingdom of the blest, How few who started with us shall we find Ai'riving or arrived, for glorious rest ! How many shall we mourn as left behind !* " Pauci Iseta arva tenemus." — Virgil, ^neid, YL THE MEETING-PLACE. Where tlie faded flower shall freshen,— Freshen never more to fade ; Where the shaded sky shall brighten, — Brighten never more to shade : Where the sun-blaze never scorches ; Where the star-beams cease to chill ; Where no tempest stirs the echoes Of the wood, or wave, or hill : Where the morn shall wake in gladness, And the moon the joy prolong. Where the daylight dies in fragrance, 'Mid the burst of holy song : Brother, we shall meet and rest 'Mid the holy and the blest ! Where no shadow shall bewilder. Where life's vain parade is o'er. Where the sleep of sin is broken. And the dreamer dreams no more : 14 THE MEETING-PLACE. ^^Tiere tlie bond is never severed ; — Partings, claspings, sob and moan, Midnight waking, twilight weeping, Heavy noontide, — all are done : Where the child has found its mother, Where the mother finds the child, Where dear fomilies are gathered, That were scattered on the wild : Brother, we shall meet and rest 'Mid the holy and the blest I Where the hidden wound is healed, • Where the blighted light re-blooms, Where the smitten heart the freshness Of its buoyant youth resumes : Where the love that here we lavish On the withering leaves of time. Shall have fadeless flowers to fix on In an ever spring bright clime : Where we find the joy of loving, As we never loved before, — ■ Loving on, unchilled, unhindered, Loving once and evermore : Brother, we shall meet and rest, 'JMid the holy and the blest ! THE MEETING-PLACE. 16 Where a blasted world shall brighten Underneath a bluer sphere, And a softer, gentler sunshine Shed its healing splendor here : Where earth's barren vales shall blossom, PuttinsT on their robe of o-reen, And a purer, fairer Eden Be where only wastes have been : Where a King in kingly glory. Such as earth has never known, Shall assume the righteous sceptre, Claim and wear the holy crown : Brother, we shall meet and rest, 'Mid the holy and the blest. ~ A STRANGER HERE. I MISS the dear paternal dwelliDg, Which mem'ry, still undimmed, recals, A thousand early stories telling ; I miss the venerable walls. I miss the chamber of my childhood, I miss the shade of boyhood's tree, — The glen, the path, the cliff, the wild-wood, The music of the well-known sea. I miss the ivied haunt of moonlight, I miss the forest and the stream, I miss the fragrant grove of uoonlight, I miss our mountain's sunset gleam. I miss the green slope, where, reposing, I mused upon the near and far, Marked, one by one, each floweret closing, Watched, one by one, each opening star A STRANGER HERE. 17 I miss tlie well-remembered faces, The voices, forms, of freslier days ; Time plouglis uot up these deep-drawn traces, These hues no ao-es can erase. o 1 miss them all, for, luiforgetting, My spirit o'er the past still strays, And, much its wasted years regretting, It treads again these shaded ways. I mourn uot that each early token Is now to me a faded flower, Nor that the magic snare is broken That held me with its mystic power. I murmur not that now a stranger I pass along the smiling earth ; I know the snare, I dread the danger, I hate the haunts, I shun the mirth. My hopes are passing upward, onwai-d, And with my hopes my heart has gone ; My eye is turning skyward, sunward, Where glory brightens round you throne. 2^ 18 A STRANGER HERE. My spirit seeks its dwelling yonder ; And fate fore-dates the joyful day "When these old skies shall cease to suLder The one dear love-linked family. Well-pleased I find years rolling o'er me, And hear each day-time's measured tread ; Far fewer clouds now stretch before me, Behind me is the darkness spread. And summer's suns are swiftly setting, And life moves downward in their train, And autumn dews are fondly wetting The faded cheek of earth in vain. December moons are coldly waning, And life w".th them is on the wane ; Storm-laden fekies with sad complaining, Bend blackly o'er the unsmiling main. My future from my past unlinking, Each dying year untwines the spell ; The visible is swiftly sinking, Uprises the invisible. A STRANGER HERE. 19 To liglit, unchanging, and eternal, From mists tnat sadden this bleak waste, To scenes that smile for ever vernal. From winter's blackening leaf I haste. Earth, what a sorrow lies before thee, None like it in the shadov>y past ; — The sharpest throe that ever toi'e thee, Even tho' the briefest and the last I I see the fair moon veil her lustre, I see the sackcloth of the sun ; The shrouding of each starry cluster. The threefold woe of earth beo-ua. o I see the shadows of its sunset ; And v/rapped in these the Avenger's form , I see the Armageddon-onset ; But I shall be above the storm. There comes the moaning and the siirhincr. There comes the hot tear's heavy fall, Tlie thousand agonies of dying ; — But I shall be beyond them all. OCEAN TEACHINGS.. " This great and wide sea." — Psalm civ. 25. That rising storm I It has awakened me ; My slumbering spirit starts to life anew ; That blinding spvay-drift, liow it falls upon me, As on the weary flower the freshening dew. That rugged rock-fringe that girds in the oc?ean, And calls the foam from its translucent blue, It seems to pour strange strength into my spirit, — Strength for endurance, strength for conflict too. And these bright ocean-birds, these billow-rangers, The snowy-breasted, — each a winged wave — They tell me how to joy in storm and dangers. When, surges whiten, or when whirlwinds rave. And these green-stretching fields, these peaceful hol- lows. That hear the tempest, but take no alarm, OCEAN TEACHINGS. 21 Has not their placid verdure sweetly tauglit me The peace within when all v.ithout is storm ? And thou keen sun-flasb, through tbe cloud-wreath bursting-, Silvering the sea, the sward, the rock, the foam, What light within me has thy pure gleam kindled ? 'Tis from the land of light that thou art come. And of the time how blithely art thou telling, When cloud and change and tempest shall take wing ; Each beam of thine prophetic of the glory. Creation's daybreak, earth's long-promised spring. Even thus it is, my God me daily tcacheth Sweet knowledge out of all I hear and see ; Each object has a heavenly voice witliin it, Each scene, however troubled, speaks to me. For all upon this eartli is broken beauly. Yet out of all what strange, deep lessons rise ? Each hour is giving out its heaven-sent wisdom, A message from the sea, the shore, the skies. NO MORE SEA. Kal fj BaXaaaa ovk Igtiv Iti. — (Rey. xxL 1.) Summer Ocean, idly washing This grey rock on which I lean ; Summer Ocean, broadly flashing AVith thy hues of gold and green; Gently swelling, wildly dashing O'er yon island-studded scene ; Summer Ocean, how T 11 miss tliee, — Miss the thunder of thy roar, Miss the music of thy ripple. Miss thy soirow-soothing sliore,- Sumraer Ocean, how I' 11 miss thee, When '' the sea shall be no more." Summer Ocean, how I '11 miss thee, As along thy strand I range ; Or as here I sit and watch thee In thy mood^ of endless change — XO MORE SEA. Mirthful moods of moraiag gkdness, Musing moods of sunset sadness; When tlie dying winds caress tlice, And tbe sinking sunbeams kiss tliee, And the crimson cloudlets press thee, Ajid all nature seems to bless thee !— Summer Ocean, how I 'II miss thee, — Miss the wonders of thy shore, Miss the magic of thy grandeur, When " the sea shall be no more P And yet sometimes in my musings, When I think of what shall be ; In the day of earth's new glory, Still I seem to roam by thee. As if all had not departed, But the glory lingered still ; As if that which made thee lovely, Had remained unchangeable. Only that which marred thy beauty,— Only that had passed away, Sullen wilds of Ocean-moorland, Bloated features of decay. Only that dark waste of waters, 23 24 NO MORE SEA. Line ne' ei- fathomed, eye ne 'er scanoed. Only that sball shrink and vanish, Yielding back the imprisoned land. Yielding back earth's fertile hollows, Long submerged and hidden plains ; Giving up a thousand valleys, Of the ancient world's domains. Leaving still bright azure ranges. Winding round this rocky tower ; Leaving still yon gem-bright island. Sparkling like an ocean-flower. Leaving still some placid stretches, Where the sunbeams bathe at noon, Leaving still some lake-like reaches, Mirrors for the silver moon. Only all of gloom and horror, Idle wastes of endless brine, Haunts of darkness, storm, and danger, Tkese shall be no lono;er thine. Backward ebbing, wave and ripple, Wondrous scenes shall then disclose And, like earth's, the wastes of ocean Then shall blossom as the rose. THE CHANGE. I LOVE yon pale blue sky ; it is the floor Of that glad home where I shall shortly be ; A home from which I shall go out no more ; From toil and grief and vanity set free. I gaze upon you everlasting arch, Up which the bright stars wander, as they shine ; And as I mark them in their nightly march, I think how soon that journey shall be mine ! Yon silver drift of silent cloud, far up In the still heaven — through you my pathway lies j Yon rugged mountain-peak — ^liow soon your top Shall I behold beneath me, as I rise 1 Not many more of life's slow-pacing hours, Shaded with soiTow's melancholy hue ; — • Oh, what a glad ascending shall be ours. Oh, what a pathway up yon starry blue! 3 26 THE CLOUDLESS. A journey like Elijah's, swift and bright, Caught gently upwai'd to an early crown, In heaven's own chariot of unblazino- lio-ht * With death untasted and the grave unknown. THE CLOUDLESS. No shadows yonder ! All light and song ; Each day I wonder. And say. How long Shall time me sunder From that dear thronsff o No weeping yonder ! All fled away ; While here I wander Each weary day. And sigh as I ponder Mj long, long stay. &eL" cold. How long, O Lord our God, Holy and true, and good, Wilt Thou not judge Thy suffering Church, Her sighs and tears and blood ? %, Come, then, Lord Jesus, come ! We long to hear Thy voice, To see Thee face to face. To share Thy crown and glory then, As now we share Thy grace. Should not the lovino- biide The absent bridegroom mourn ? Should slie not wear the weeds of grief Until her Lord return ? Come, then, Lord Jesus, come • The whole creation groans, And vraits to hear that voice, That shall restore her comeliness, V And make her wastes rejoice. DAWN. 41 Come, Lord, and wipe away The curse, tlie sin, the stain, Aud make this Lliglited world of ours Thiue own fair world again. Come, then, Lord Jesus, como ! DAWN. Light of the better morning, Shine down on me ! Sun of tLe brighter bearen, Bid darkness flee ! Thy warmth impart To this dull heart : Pour in thy light, And let this night Be turned to day By thy mild ray ! Lord Jesus, come ; Thou day-star shine 5 Enhghten now This soul of mine I 4* 42 DAWN. Streaks of the better dawning Break on my sight, Fringing with silver edges These clouds of nio-hfc Gems on morn's brow, Glow, brightly glow, ForetelHng soon The ascending noon, Wakening this earth To second birth, J^hen He shall come To earth again. Who comes to judge. Who comes to reign. RETURN UNTO THY REST. Cease, my soul, tliy strayings ! Have tliey brought tbee peace ? Come, no more delayings, Cease thy wanderings, cease. These vanities how vain 1 Wander not again. Thou hast found thy centre ; There, my soul, abide ; Never more adventure Now to swerve aside. Tliese vanities hov/ vain ! Wander not again. Thou hast reached thy dwelling ; Safe, sure anchorage From the perilous swelling Of the tempest's rage. These vanities how vain ! Wander not again. 44 RETURN UNTO TJ.i K/SST. Tranquil hours now greet theo, lu tby calm abode ; Gracious looks now meet thee, From thy loving God. These vanities how vain ! Wander not ajrain. See yon star, love-lighted, Sparkles from on high ; See yon hope, love-plighted, Cheers thy heaviest sky. These vanities how vain ! Wander not asfain. o Watch, my soul, the glory Coming brightly up, O'er yon forest hoary, O'er yon mountain-top. These vanities how vain ! Wander not again. 'Tis the bridal morning ; Rise, make no delay ; RETUKN UNTO THY REST. 45 Put on thine adorning, Cast thy weeds awaj'. These vanities how vain Wander not again. Pierce these mists that blind thee, Press to yonder prize, Break the bonds that bind thee, Rise, my soul, arise ! These vanities h.ow vain ! Wander not again. THE MORNING STAR. There is a morning star, my soul, There is a morning star ; 'Twill soon be near and bright, tho' now It seems so dim and far. And when time's stars have come and gone And every mist of eai'th has flown, That better star shall rise On this world's clouded skies, To shine forever ! The night is well nigh spent, my soul, The night is well nigh spent, And soon above our heads shall shine A glorious firmament : A sky all glad, and pure, and bright, The Lamb, once slain, its perfect light A star without a cloud, Whose lio-ht no mists enshroud, Descending never. THINGS HOPED FOK. These are the crowns that we shall wear When all thy saiuts are crowned ; These are the palms that we shall bear On yonder holy ground. Far off as yet, reserved in heaven, Above that veiling sky, They sparkle, like the stars of even, To hope's far-piercing eye. These are the robes, unsoiled and while, Which then we shall put on, When, foremost 'mong the sons of light, We sit on yonder throne. That city with the jewelled crest. Like some new-lighted sun ; A blaze of burning amethyst — Ten thousand orbs in one ; — 48 THINGS HOPED FOR. That is the city of tlie saints, Where we so soon shall stand, "When we shall strike these desert-tents. And. quit this desert-sand. These are the everlasting hills, With summits bathed in day : The slopes down which the living rills, Soffc-lapsing, take their way. Fair \nsion ! how thy distant gleam Brightens time's saddest hue ; Far fairer than the fairest dream, And yet so strangely true ! Fair vision ! how thou liftest up The drooping brow and eye ; With the calm joy of thy sure hope Fixing our souls on high. Thy light makes even the darkest page In memory's scroll grow fair ; Blanchino: the lines which tears and as:© Had only deepened there. THINGS HOPED TOR. 49 With thee in view, the rugged slope Becomes a level way, Smoothed by the magic of thy hope, And gladdened by thy ray. With thee in \aew, how poor appear The world's most winning smiles ; Vain is the tempter's subtlest snare, And vain hell's varied wiles. Time's glory fades ; its beauty now Has ceased to lure or blind ; Each gay enchantment here below Has lost its power to bind. Then welcome toil, and care, and paiu I And welcome sorrow too ! All toil is rest, all grief is gain, With such a prize in view. Come crown and (hrone, come robe and palm ! Burst forth glad stream of peace ! Come, holy city of the Lamb ! Rise, Sun of liigiiteousness ! 5 60 THROUGH DEATH TO LIFK. When shall the clouds' that veil thy rays Forever be withdrawn? Why dost thou tarry, day of days ? Yvlien shall thy gladness dawn ? THROUGH DEATH TO LIFE The star is not extinguished when it ,iets Upon the dull horizon ; it but goes To shine in other skies, then re-appear In ours, as fresh as when it first arose. The river is not lost, when, o'er the rock. It pours its flood into the abyss below : Its scattered force re-gatherinor from the sho(.k. It hastens onward, with yet fuller flow. The bright sun dies not, when the shadowing orl Of the eclipsing moon obscures its ray : It si ill is shining on ; and soon to us Will burst undimmed into the joy of day. THROUGH DEATH TO LIFE. 61 The lily dies not, when both flower and leaf Fade, and are strewed upon the chill sad ground ; Gone down for sheltt-r to its mother-earth, 'Twill rise, re-bloom, and shed its fragrance round. The dew-drop dies not, when it leaves the flower, And passes upward on the beam of moin ; It does but hide itself in Hght on high, To its loved flower at twilight to return. The fine gold has not perishetl, when the flame Seizes upon it with consuming glow ; In freshened splendor it comes forth anew, To sparkle ou the monarch's thi'one or brow. Thus nothing dies, or only dies to live : Star, stream, sun, flower, the dew-drop, and the gold; Each goodly thing, instinct Avith buoyant hope. Hastes to put on its purer, finer mould. / Thus in the quiet joy of kindly trust, We bid each partnig saint a brief farewell ; [2 THROUGH DBATH TO LIFE. Weeping, yet smiling, we commit tlieir dust To the safe keeping of tbe sHent cell. Softly within that peaceful resting-place "We lay their wearied limbs, and bid the clay Press lightly on them till the night be past, And the far east give note of coming day. The day of re-appearing ! how it speeds 1 He who is true and faithful speaks the word. Then shall we ever be with those we love — Then shall we be for ever with the Lord. The shout is hewd ; .the archangel's voice goes forth ; The trumpet sounds ; the dead awake and sing ; The living put on glory ; one glad band. They hasten up to meet their coming King. Short death and darkness ! Endless life and light ! Short dimming ; endless shining in yon sphere, Where all is incorruptible and pure ; — The joy without the pain, the smile without the \^ tear. hor'a novissima. Far down the ages now, Her journey well-nigli done, The pilgrim Church pursues lier way In liaste to reach the crowu. The story of the past Comes up before her view; IIow well it seems to suit her still, Old, and yet ever now. 'Tis the same stoiy still, Of sin and weariness. Of grace and love still flowing down To pardon and to bless. Tis the old sorrow still. The briar and the thorn ; And 'tis the same old solace yet — The hope of coming morn. 54 _ HOEA NOYISSIMA. No wider is the srate. No broader is the way, No smoother is the ancient path That leads to light aod day. No lighter is the load Beneath whose weight we cry^ No tamer grows the rebel flesh, Nor less our enemy. No sweeter is the cup, Nor less our lot of ill ; 'Twas tribulation a^es since, 'Tis tabulation still. No greener are the rocks, No fresher flow the rills, No roses in the wilds appear, No vines upon the hills. Still dark the sky above, And sharp the desert air , 'Tis wide, bleak desolation round. And shadow everywhere. HORA NOVISSIMA. 55 Dawn lingers on yon cliff; But, ob, how slov/ to spring! Morning s^lill nestles on yon wave, Afraid to tiy its wing. No slacker grows iLe figlit, JMo feeblijr is the foe, No less the need of aniior tried. Of shield, and spear, and liov/. Nor less wo feel the blank Of earth's sllU absent King; Whose presence is of all our bliss The everlasting spring. Til us onward still we press. Through evil and through good, Througli pain, and poverty, and want, Through peril and through blood. Still faithful to our God, And to our Captain true ; We follow where he leads the way, The kingdom in our view. THE NIGHT COMETH Time's sun is fost setting, Its twilight is nigh, Its evening is falling In cloud o'er the sky, Its shadows are stretchinior In ominous ffloom : Its midnight approaches. The midnight of doom. Then haste, sinner, haste, there is mercy for thee, And wrath is preparing, — flee, lingerer, flee ! Hides forth the fierce tempest On the wing of the cloud ; The moan of the night-blast Is fitful and loud ; The mountains are heaving, The forests are bowed, The ocean is surging. Earth gathers its shroud. Then haste, sinner, haste, there is mercy for thee, And wrath is preparing, — flee, lingerer, flee ! THE NIGHT COMETH. 67 The vision is nearing — The Judge and the throne ! — The voice of tlie Angel Proclaims "It is done." On the whirl of the tempest Its ruler shall come, And the blaze of its glory Flash out from its gloom, — Then haste, sinner, haste, there is mercy for the€, And wrath is preparing, — flee, lingerer, flee ! With clouds He is comiuff ! His people shall sing, With gladness they hail him Redeemer and King. The hon rod wielding, The rod of his ire. He Cometh to kindle Earth's last fatal fire ! Then haste, sinner, haste, there is mercy for thee, And wrath is preparing, — flee, lingerer, flee ! THE DAY AFTER ARMAGEDDON. " They have blown the trumpet, but none goeth to th« battle."— Ezek. vil 14. 'Tis the summons to battle ! But the cry is unheard ; The trumpet has spoken, Not a warrior has stirred. Hark, the summons to battle ! It has sounded again ; Still louder and keener ; — It has sounded in vain. Yet a third time and shriller, That war-note has blown ; But the answer that cometh Is the echo alone. THE DAY AFTER ARIIAGEDDON. 59 'Tis the silence of silence ! Tower, tent, vale, and liill, Field, forest, and highway, — All soundless and still ! No challena-e is lifted. No signal uufurle.J ; Tis man's darh hour of terror, The awe of the world. For the arm of Jehovah lias been bared in its might, And the sword of his vengeance lias been bui-nished to smite. Throuo-h the ridges of battle Ilis ploughshare has sj^ed ; And the tents of the living- Are the tombs of the dea shiver; These buds are not for your rude hands to strew. Flee and give back to earth its verdant gladness, The early freshness of its un soiled dew ; Take hence your sackcloth, with its stormy sadness ; And let these wrinkled skies their youth renew. / Give back that day of days, the seventh and fjiirest, When, like a gem new-set, earth flung afar Her glory, of creation's gems the rarest. Sparkling in beauty to each kindred star. Come back, thou holy love, so rudely banished, When evil came, and hate, and fear, and wrong ; Return, thou joyous light, so quickly vanished ; Revive, thou life that death has quenched so long Re-fix, re-knit the chain so harshly broken, That bound this lower orb to yon bright heaven ; Hang out on high the ever-golden token. That tells of earth renewed and man forgiven. 6* 66 A LITTLE WHILE. Withdraw the veil that has for ages hidden That upper kingdom from this nether sphere ; Eenew the fellowship so long forbidden ; >^ God, thyself take up ihy dwelling here I A LITTLE WHILE. / Beyond the smiling and the weepmg I shall be soon ; Beyond the waking and the sleeping, Beyond the sowing and the reaping, I shall be soon. Love, rest, and home ! Sweet hope ! Lord, tarry not, but come. Beyond the blooming and the fading, I shall be soon ; Beyond the shining and the shading, Beyond the hoping and the dreading, I shall be soon. A LITTLE WHILE. Love, rest, and home ! Sweet hope ! Lord, tarry not, but come. Beyond the rising and the setting I shall be soon ; Beyond the calming and the fretting, Beyond remembering and forgetting, I shall be soon, Love, rest, and home ! Sweet hope ! Lord, tarry not, but come. Beyond the gathering and the strowing I shall be soon ; Beyond the ebbing and the flowing, Beyond the coming and the going, I shall be soon. Love, rest, and home ! Sweet hope ! Lord, tany not, but come. Beyond the parting and the meeting I shall be soon. 67 68 A LIITLK WHILE. Beyond the farewell and the greeting, Beyond this pulse's fever-beating, I shall be soon. Love, rest, and home ! Sweet hope ! Lord, tarry not, but come. Beyond the frost-chain and the fever I shall be soon ; Beyond the rock-waste and the river, Beyond the ever and the never, I shall be soon. Love, rest, and home ! Sweet hope ! Lord, tan-y not, but come. NOT VERY FAR. • StJKELY, yon heaven, where angels see God's face, Is not so distant as we deem From this low earth ? 'Tis but a httle space, The narrow crossing of a slender stream ; 'Tis but a veil, which winds might blow aside : Fes, these are all that us of earth divide, From the bright dwelling of the glorified, — The Land of which I dream ! These peaks are nearer heaven than earth below, These hills are higher than they seem ; 'Tis not the clouds they touch, nor the soft brow Of the o'er-bending azure as we deem. 'Tis the blue floor of heaven that they up-bear ; And like some old and wildly rugged stuir, They lift us to the land where all is fair, — The Land of which I dream ! These ocean- waves, in their unmeasured sweep, Are brighter, bluer, than they seem ; VO NOT VERY FAR. True image here of the celestial deep, — - Fed from the fulness of the unfailinsf stream, — Heaven's glassy sea of everlasting rest, With not a breath to stir its silent breast, The sea that laves the land where all are blest, — The Land of which I dream ! . ^ And these keen stars, the bridal gems of Night, Are purer, lovelier, than they seem ; Filled from the inner fountain of deep light. They pour down heaven's own beam ; Clear-speaking from their throne of glorious blue, In accents ever ancient, ever new, Of the glad home above, beyond our view, — The Land of which I dream ! This life of ours, these lingering years of earth, Are briefer, swifter, than they seem ; A little while, and the great second birth Of time shall come, the prophet's anciert theme ! Then He, the King, the Judge at length shall come, And for this desert, where we sadly roam, Bhall give the kingdom for our endless home, — ■ The Land of which I dream ! THE EVERLASTING MEMORIAL. Up and away, like tlie dew of the morning, Soaring from eartli to its home in the sun,-— So let me steal away, gently and lovingly. Only remembered by what I have done. My name and my place and my tomb, all forgottea, The brief race of time well and patiently run, So let me pass away, peacefully, silently. Only remembered by what I have done. Gladly away from this toil would I hasten. Up to the crown that for me has been won ; Unthought of by man in rewards or in praises, — - Only remembened by what I have done. Up and away, like the odors of sunset, Til at sweeten the twilight as darkness comes on.— §0 be my life, — a thing fait but not noticed. And I but remembered by what I have done. 72 THE EVERLASTING MEMORIAL. Yes, like the fragrance ttiat wanders in freshness, When the flowers that it came from are closed ap and gone, — So would I be to this world's weary dwellers, Only remembered by what I have done. Needs there the praise of the love-written record. The name and tbe epitaph graved on the stone ? The things we have lived for, — let tbem be our story, We ourselves but remembered by what we bave done. \ I need not be missed, if my life has been bearing (As its summer and autumn moved silently on) The bloom, and the fruit, and tbe seed of its season ; I shall still be remembered by what I have done. I need not be missed, if another si^pceed me, To reap down those fields whicb in spring I have sown ; He who ploughed and who sowed is not missed by the reaper. He is only remembered by what be has done. THE EVERLASTING MEMORIAL. 73 / Not myself, but tlie trutli that in life I liave spoken, Not myself, but the seed tliat in life I have sown, Shall pass on to ages, — all about me forgotten, Save the truth I have spoken, the things I have done. So let my living be, so be my dying ; So let my name lie, unblazoned, unknown ; TJnpraised and unmissed, I shall still be remembered ; Yes, — but remembered by what I have done. ^ 1 OUR ONE LIFE. Tis not for man to trifle ! Life is brief, And sin is here. Our age is but the falling of a leaf, A dropping tear. We have no time to sport away the hours, AH must be earnest in a world like ours. Not many lives, but only one have we, — One, only one ; — ^ How sacred should that one hfe ever be — That narrow span ! — Day after day filled up with blessed toil, . Hour after hour still bringing in new spoiL Our being is no shadow of thin air, No vacant dream, No fable of the things that never were, But only seem. OUB ONE LIFE, 15 'Tis full of meaning as of mystery, Though strange and solemn may that meaning be. Our sorrows are no phantom of the night, No idle tale ; No cloud that floats along a sky of light, On summer gale. They are the true realities of earth, Friends and companions even from our birth. O life below — how brief, and poor, and sad ! One heavy sigh. O life above — ^how long, how fair, and glad ; An endless joy. Oh, to be done with daily dying here ; Ob, to begin the living in yon sphere ! O day of time, how dark ! O sky and earth. How dull your hue ; O day of Christ — how bright ! sky and earth, Made tiiir and new ! Come, bettor Eden, with thy fresher green ; Oorae, brighter Salem, gladden all the scene- ! THE CONSOLATION. The storm lias broken, and tlie heavy blast, That stifled morn's free breath and sbook its dew, Is dying into sunshine ; and the last Dull cloud has vanished from yon arch of blue. I know it is but for a day ; the war Must soon be waged again 'twixt earth and heaven ; Another tempest will arise to mar The tranquil beauty of the fragrant even. And yet I joy as storm on storm awakes ; — Not that I love the uproar or the gloom ; But in each tempest over earth that breaks, I count one fewer outburst yet to come. No groan creation heaves is heaved iu vain, Nor e'er shall be repeated ; it is done. Once heaved it never shall be heaved again ; Earth's pangs and throes are lessening one by one. THE CONSOLATION. 11 So falls the stroke of sorrow, and so springs Strange joy and comfort from the very grief, Even to the weariest sufferer ; so brings Each heavy burden still its own relief. One cross the less remains for me to bear ; Already borne is that of yesterday ; That of to-day shall no to-morrow share ; To-morrow's, with itself, shall pass away. That which is added to the troubled past Is taken from the future, whose sad store Grows less and less each day, till soon the last Dull wave of woe shall break upon om' shore. The storm that yesterday ploughed up the sea Is buried now beneath its level blue ; One storm the fewer now remains for me, Ere sky and earth are made for ever new. THE REAL. TfiERE are no dreams beyond tlie tomb ! The nigbt of dreams is o'er ; 'Tis only here tbey go and come, On this dull, shadowy shore. When we arise from off this restless couch Of weariness and pain, When death awakes us with his stony touch Never to sleep again ; Then shadows vanish ; the invisible Rises before our view ; On every side comes up the real. The certain, and the true. And when the mom of morns shall come, The resurrection-day, Then yet more real shall all become, And shadows pass away. THE EEAL, How true and great that world must be, How falsCj bow little tbis ! Man sees not what be seems to see, He seems not what he is. Here is the hollow and untrue ; Tbis is the night of dreams ; Thickly o'erspread with mist and dew, Earth is not what it seems. Each morn is coming with its light, To chase each shade and ill, Then time's vain beauty shall take flight, Like rainbow from the hill. And truth returneth from on high ; Gone is the night of dreams, Gone is the shadow and the lie,— Earth shall be what it seems. 19 NOT HERE. SoFTLi' tlie winds were fanning this fresli chee'k, When heedless boyhood loved to dream and stray I loved earth's sides, nor deemed them sad or bleak : Its fields seemed still to breathe of joyous May. I said, what better home shall this heart seeic ? Here let me dwell for aye. Cold winter smote, frosts nipped, sore tempests broke. And the dark cloud shut out the beauteous day ; The fair flower perished, and the blast's rude shock Struck the strong pine, and swept its pride away ; My fond dream passed, I said, as I awoke, " I would not live alway." Yet would I not turn back, nor faint, nor sigh, Nor fthun -the war, nor murmur at the doom ; I see the beacon-hght of yonder sky Beyond the earth and sea — beyond the tomb I And then I say, " Saviour, ever nigh. Light me through this cold gloom" NOT NOW. Days come and go, In joy or woe ; Days go and come, In endless sum. Only tlie eternal day Shall come but never 20 Only the eternal fide Shall never ehb but flow. O long eternity, My soul goes forth to thee ! Suns set and rise In these dull skies, Suns rise and set, Till men forget, The day is at the door. When they shall rise no more« O everlasting Sun, Whose race is never run, Be thou my endless light, Then shall I fear no niffht ! tj^ LIGHT'S TEACHINGS. The liglit is ever silent; It calls up voices over sea and earth. And fills tlie glowing air Avith harmomes, The lark's gay chant, the note of forest-do\«3, The lamb's quick bleat, and the bee's earnest hum, The sea-bird's winged wail upon the wave. It wakes the voice of childhood, soft and clear; The city's noisy rush, the \'illage-stir, And the world's mighty murmur that had sunk, For a short hour, to sleep upon the down That darkness spread for wearied limbs and eyes. But still it sounds not, speaks not, whispers not ! Not one faint throb of its vast pulse is hoard By creature-ear. How silent is the light ! Even when of old it wakened Memnon's lyre, It breathed no music of its own ; and still. When at sweet sunrise, on its golden Aviugs, It brings the melodies of dawn to man, It scatters them in silence o'er the earth. light's teachings. 83 The light is ever silent ; It sparkles on morn's million gems of dew. It flings itself into the shower of noon, It weaves its gold into the cloud of sunset^ — ■ Yet not a sound is heard ; it dashes full On yon broad rock, yet not an echo answers ; It lights in myriad drops upon the flow^er, Yet not a blossom stirs, it does not move The slightest film of floating gossamer, Which the faint touch of insect's wing Avould shiver. ITie light is ever silent ; Most silent of all heavenly silences ; Not even the darkness stiller, nor so still ; Too swift for sound or speech, it rushes ou Right through the yielding skies, a massive flood Of multitudinous beams ; an endless sea, That flows but ebbs not, breaking on the shore Of this dark earth, with never-ceasing wave, Yet in its swiftest flow, or fullest spring-tide, Giving less sound than does one falling blossom, \ Which the May breeze lays lightly on the sward. ' Such let my life be here ; Not marked by noise but by success alone ; 84 light's teachings. Not known by bustle but by useful deeds, Quiet and gentle, clear and fair as light ; Yet full of its all-j^enetrating power, Its silent but resistless influence ; Wasting no needless sound, yet ever working, . Houi" after hour, uj^on a needy world. / Sunshine is ever calm ; There are no tempests in yon sea of beams. That bright Pacific on whose peaceful bosom All happy things come floating down to us. Light has no hurricane, no angry blast, No turbid torrent laying waste our plains. Morn after mom goes by, and the fresh light, Pours in upon the darkness, yet no storm Awakes, no eddy stirs the tranquil glow ; No crested billow rises, and no foam Drifting along, tells of some tumult past. Sunshine is ever strong ; No blast can break or bend one single ray ; In seven-fold strength it faces wave and wind Heedless of their opposing turbulence, It passes through them in its quiet power, Unruffled, and unbroken, and unbent. light's TEACniNGS. 85 No DiigLt of armies, and no rage of storms, Can turn aside one sunbeam from its path, Or bate its speed, or force it back again To the far fountain-Lead from wLence it came. Sunshine is ever pure ; No art of man can rob it of its beauty, Nor stain its unpolluted heavenliness. It is the fairest, purest thing in nature, Fit type of that fair heaven where all is pure, And into which no evil thing can enter, Where darkness comes not, V\'herc no shadow falls, Where night and sin can have no dwelling-place. Sunshine is ever joyous ; Its birthplace is in yon bright orb which flings, O'er cliff and vale its wealth of rosy snules. Each sunbeam seems the very soul of joy ; No sadness soils it ; scattenng gladsomeness, Like a bright angel, onward still it moves. The veiy churchyard brightens as the ray Alights upon its tombstones, and the tnif Seems strangely heaving to the radiant glow. As if fore-dating the expected sunrise, When, ?t the first gleam of the Morning-Star 8 86 earth's beauty. The foitlifiil grave shall render up its treasure, And sunsbine, such as earth has never known, Shall fill these skies with mirth, and smiles, and beauty Erasing each sad wrinkle fiom their brow, V Which the long curse had deeply graven there. EARTH'S BEAUTY. Where the wave murmurs not. Where the gust eddies not, Where the stream rushes not, Where the cliff shadows not, * Where the wood darkens not, I would not be ! Bright tho' the heavens were, Rich tho' the flowers there, Sweet tho' the fragrant air. And all as Eden fair. Yet as a dweller there, I would not be ! O wave, and breeze, and rill, and rock, and wood, Was it not God himself that called you good? THE NIGHT AND THE MORNING. / To dream a troubled dream, and then ^wakcu To the soft gladness of a summer sky ; To dream om'selves alone, unloved, forsaken, And then to wake 'mid smiles, and love, and joy ; To look at evening on the storm's rude motion, The cloudy tumult of the fretted deep ; And then at day-burst upon that same ocean. Soothed to the stillness of its stillest sleep — So runs our course — so tells the church her story, So to the end shall it be ever told ; Brief shame on earth, but after shame the glory. That wanes not, dims not, never waxes old. Lord Jesus, come, and end this troubled dreaming I Dark shadows vanish, rosy twilight break ! Morn of the true and real, burst forth, calm-beaming. Day of the beautiful, arise, awake ! HOPE OF DAY. Till the day dawn, And the Day-star arise — Father, O keep thy son, Thy feeble, faithless one ! O guide him through the waste, Till the long gloom be past. It is a night of fear ; The path is rough and drear ; Clouds frown, blasts rush along. The tempests gather strong ; Strange perils compass me, Of flood, fire, rock, and sea ; Yet I, in loneliness. Would fain still onward press. O felt and known, but yet unseen, be nigh ; O loved and longed-for, hear each hidden sigh ; Leave me not, struggling thus, to sink and die. Till the day dawn, And the Day-star arise — HOPE OF DAY. 89 Saviour, let thy love, Down dropping from above, This withered soul renew With thy flower-freshening dew ! never-changiiag Friend, My failing steps attend ; Hold tliou me up, and so 1 shall pass safely through. Still keep me at thy side, Thou who for me hast died ; O light me on my way. My joy, my strength, my stay. O clasp me closer to thy pierced side, Thou who for me the death of deaths hast died ; Let not this staggering faith be too too sorely tried. Till the day dawn. And the Day-star arise — Spirit of gentle love, Thou tempest-calming dove, Come, and within me dwell, Come, and all gloom dispel. Most blessed Comforter, My weaiy footsteps cheer. 8* 90 HOPE OF DAY. O light and lamp divine, Upon my ttidnight shine, Better than star or moon, Brighter than day's bright noon, O let thy joyous ray Turn all my night to day. When thou art absent, even my joy is sad, When thou art with me, even my grief is glad ; Let not thy silence now sorrow to sorrow add. Till the day dawn. And the Day-star arise — Church of the Hving God, Pursue thy upward road ; Look not behind nor stray From the well-trodden way. Be not ashamed to bear Thy cross on earth, nor fear Reproach and poverty. For him who died for thee. With girded loins press on. Till the reward is won. Think of thy absent Lord, Hold fast thy plighted word. DAT-SPRING. 91 DoflF not thy weeds of widowhood, nor fear To let the world, thro' which thou passest, hear The widow's cry, and see the widow's faithful tear. DAY-SPRING. The loving morn is springing From night's unloving gloom ; And earth seems now an'sing In beauty from the tomb, See daylight far above us, Tinging each cloudy wreath, Ere it showers itself in splendor ^ Upon the plain beneath. 'Tis sparkling on the mountain-peak, 'T is hurrying down the vale, 'T is bursting thro' the forest-boughs, 'Tis freshening in the gale. 92 DAY-SPRING. 'T is mingling with the river's snaile, 'Tis orlisteuina: in the dew, 'Tis flinging far its silver not, O'er ocean's braided blue. • 'Tis blushing o'er the meadow's gold, 'T is lighting on the flower, Unfolding every gentle bud To the gladness of the hour. 'Tis gilding the old ruin's moss, 'T is gleaming from the spire ; And thro' the crumbling window-shafts It shoots its living fire. 'T is quivering in the village smoke That curls the low roof o'er ; It beats against the castle gate, And at the cottage door. •o" O'er the church-yard it is resting,— - On stone, and grass, and mould, Giving voice to each grey tombstone, As to Memnon's harp of old. DAY-Sl'RING. 93 O tlie gay burst of beauty That is flusbing over earth, And calling forth its millions To holy morning mirth ! Yet look we for a sunrise More beautiful than this ; And watch we for a dawning Of purer light and bliss. When a far fairer morning O'er greener hills shall rise. And a far fresher sunlight Look down from bluer skies. Is not creation weary ? Has sin not reigned too long ? Hear, Lord, thy Church's pleading, Come, end her day of wrong ! DUST TO DUST. Dust receive thy kindred ! Earth take now thine own I To thee this trust is rendered ; In thee this seed is sown. Guard the precious treasiu-e, Ever- faithful tomb ! Keep it all unrifled, Till the Master come. Time's tide of change and uproar Breaks above thy head ; Feet of restless millions O'er thy chambers tread. Earthquakes, whirlvxinds, tempests, Tear the quivering gi'ound ; Voices, trumpets, thunders, Fill the air around. DUST TO DUST. 96 Roar of raging battle ; Shout, and sliriek, and wail, Startle even the bravest, Turn the fresh cheek pale. Torrent rolled on torrent, Bui'sts o'er bank and bar,— Sweeping down our valleys, Swells the rising war. Billow meeting billow. Beats the shattered strand, Rousing ocean-echoes, Shakinof sea and land. o But these sounds of terror Pierce not tliis low tomb ; Nor break the happy slumbers Of this quiet home. Couch of the tranquil slumber For the weary brow ; Rest of the faint and toiling, Take this loved one now. 96 DUST TO DUST. Turf of the shaded church-yard, Warder of the claj, "Watch the toil-worn sleeper, Till the awaking day. Watch the well-loved sleeper, Guard that placid form ; Fold around it gently ; Shield it from alarm. Clasp it kindly, fondly, To cherish, not destroy ; Clasp it as the mother Clasps her nestling joy. Guard the precious treasure, Ever faithful tomb ; Keep it all unrifled Ti'l the Master come. ARISE AND DEPART. Brethren, arise, Let us go hence ! Defiled, polluted thus. This is no home for us ; Till earth is purified, We may not here abide. "We were not born for earth,-*- The city of our birth, The better paradise. Is .far above these skies. Upward then let us soar, Cleaving to dust no more ! Brethren, arise, Let us go hence ! Death and the grave are hero, The sick-bed and the bier. The children of the tomb May love this kindred gloom ; 98 ARISE AND DEPART. But we, the deathless band, Must see the deathless land. The mortal here may rove, The immortal dwell above. Here we can only die, Let us ascend on high ! jf Brethren, arise, Let us go hence ! For we are weary here. The ever-falling tear, The ever-swelling sigh, The sorrow ever nigh, The sin still flowing on, Creation's ceaseless groan. The tumult near and far, The universal war. The sounds that never cease,- ^ These are our weariness I Brethren, arise, Let us go hence ! This is not our abode ; Too far, too far from God ! ARISE AND DEPART. 99 The angels dwell not here ; There falls not on the ear The everlastino- song;. From the celestial throno-. 'Tis discord here alone, Earth's melody is gone , Her harp lies broken now ; Her praise has ceased to flow ! Brethren, arise, Let us go hence ! The New Jerusalem, Like a resplendent gem, Sends down its heavenly light, Attracting our dull sight. I see the bright ones wait At each fair pearly gate ; I hear their voices call ; I see the jasper wall, The clear translucent gold. The glory all untold ! Brethren, arise, Let us go hence 1 100 THE KINGDOM." What are eartli's joys and gems, Wliat are its diadems ? Our crowns are waiting us Within our Father's house. Our friends above the skies Are bidding xis arise ; Our Lord, he calls away To scenes of sweeter day Than this sad earth can know. Let us arise and go ! THE KINGDOM. Peace ! earth's last battle has been won ; Its days of conflict now are o'er ; The Prince of peace ascends the throne, And war has ceased from shore to shore. Rest ! the world's day of toil is past ; Each storm is hushed above, below, Creation's joy has come at last. After six thousand years of woe. THE KINGDOM. 101 Messiah reij^ns ! earth's kinff has come 1 Its diadems are on his brow, Its rebel kingdoms have become His everlastina: kin