a ee Sw ae to ME, ce een i OF VIRGINIA LIBRAR | LAN X006 165982 Y |LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF VIRGINIA RSeStS 5 cae: ee soe AW AWMW™CFr‘ H SI ‘ : 4 N Nj , ‘ i J ' . , ; 1 y N { y y : y N N ; see4) f hk! ff oy [ee sg to , bok, ball |MMA s AYN N N N N 4 N N“OH BE MY VERSE A HIDDEN STREAM, WHICH SILENTLY MAY FLOW WHERE DROOPING LEAF AND THIRSTY FLOWER IN LONELY VALLEYS GROW.”R S SN N ‘ x N S AN S N ee EPee MOsATe rs VMiINISW@RY ©F SONG U IN IDE IR Wels SU IRI ACIE BY PAN GES] REDE Ye eA eG Ale CHAith Twelbe Kllustrattons oy THE BARONESS HELGA VON CRAMM INE AW We OPRSIS A DW F RANDOLPH & CO, 16 18 ©) AX ID) Wie AN WYASTER, to do great work for Thee, my hand Is far too weak! Thou givest what may suit— Some little chips to cut with care minute, \; Or tint, or grave, or polish. Others stand Si Before their quarried marble fair and grand, And make a lite-work of the great design Which Thou hast traced ; or, many-skilled, combine To build vast temples, gloriously planned. Yet take the tiny stones which I have wrought, Just one by one, as they were given by Thee, Not knowing what came next in Thy wise thought. Set each stone by Thy master-hand of grace, Form the mosaic as Thou wilt for me, And in Thy temple-pavement give it place.CONTENTS. TEE MOTeNG Se Rese @Oxe SO NeGe Prelude, . : ; The Ministry of Son Our Hidden Leaves, Threefold Praise, Not Yet, Thanksgiving, Life-Crystals, . Not your Own, Whose I am, Whom I serve, Peace, 2 : : : : t0d’s Message to him that is far off, God’s Message to him that is near, A Great Mystery, Be not Weary, The Great Teacher, Rest, : : : 3 One Question, Many Answers, Content, . Misunderstood, The Star Shower, Treasure Trove, | ‘ Coming Summer, September, 1868, Early Faith, | Our Father, | Disappointment, The Song Chalice, . Silent in Love, | o > Light and Shade,Contents. No Thorn without a Rose, Christ’s Recall, Faith’s Oren I did this for thee ! Whé Ae hast Ato Hone for Me? q Isaiah xxxili. 17, : : ; . God the Provider, Wait patiently fee ae This same Jesus, Mary’s Birthday, The Right Way, Thy Will be done, The Things which are perince Everlasting Love, Master, say on! Remote Results, On the Last Leaf, : How should they know me? . Making Peetry, The Cascade, Fairy Homes, . More Music, New Year’s Wishes, My Sweet Woodruff, Our Gem Wreath, . My Name, . . Faith and ae Lynton, A Lull in hen Adoration, UNDER THE SURFACE. J. UNDER THE SURFACE— Under the Surface, Autobiography, Compensation, : The Moonlight Sonata,Contents. . OuR Gop— The Infinity of God, The Spirituality of God, . The Eternity of God, The Sovereignty of God, . The Essential Blessedness of God, Thine is the Power, . . OuR SAVIOUR— The One Reality, To Thee, Confidence, I could not do w shout ees Jesus only, Is it for me? Hidden in Light, He is thy Lord, Our King, Ascension Song, Advent Song, NQa- oO pt st pt pt pe oO N BONN ot or ao ws 7, OuR WorK— Have you not a Word for Jesus? A Worker’s Prayer, A Silence and a Song, The Coming of the Healer, Another for Christ, How Wonderful ! A. Plea for the Little Ones Tell it out, Sisters, An Indian lag: The Lull of Eter nity, The Sowers, . Our BLEssINGcs— Everlasting Blessings, Accepted, Fresh Springs, . Faithful Promises, The Faithful Comforter, Under His Shadow, The Triune Presence, VIL wwwrpr wwreContents. VI. Now anp AFTERWARD— Now and Afterward, Tempted and Tried, Not Forsaken, . ; : Listening in Darkness—Speaking in Light, Peaceable Fruit, Right! , F The Col de Balm, Hye hath not seen, VII. THe CHURCH OF CHRIST— Chosen in Christ, Called, . Justified, . Sanctified, Joined to Christ, Presented Faultless, Glorified, : VIII. MisceELLANEOUS— The Message of an Aolian Harp, The Children’s Triumph, The Sunday Book, Two Rings, i Bells across the Snow, Singing at Sunset, Singing for Jesus, She waits for me, The Mountain Maidens, A Seeing Heart, July on the Mountains, My Window, . 4 Jandlemas Day, Now! . , Yet Speaketh, . From Glory to Glory, bo bk bo bo Ww W WW U9 Oo He Co bh bo bb bo we co to noms TSG Ooa eit ZINISTRY OF SONG.Ny clare Eine yepseeyWe Vat 1, MINISTRY OF SONG | radiance caught ; ;, That where through dark o’erarching boughs of sorrow, doubt, and sin, The glorious Star of Bethlehem upon the flood looks in, Its tiny trembling ray may bid some downcast vision turn To that enkindling Light for which all earthly shadows yearn. Oh, be my verse a hidden stream, which silently may flow Where drooping leaf and thirsty flower in lonely valleys grow ; And often by its shady course to pilgrim hearts be brought The quiet and refreshment of an upward-pointing thought ; Till, blending with the broad bright stream of sanctified endeavour, | God’s glory be its ocean home, the end it seeketh ever.The Ministry of Song. ER a N God’s great field of labour All work is not the same ; He hath a service for each one Who loves His holy name. And you, to whom the secrets Of all sweet sounds are known, Rise up! for He hath called you To a mission of your own. And, rightly to fulfil it, 5, His grace can make you strong, « Who to your charge hath given The Ministry of Song. (| ys x Sing to the little children, And they will listen well ; / O . | a Sing grand and holy music, | 2) For they can feel its spell. | Tell them the tale of Jephthah; Then sing them what he said,— ‘ Deeper and deeper still, and watch How the little cheek grows red, And the little breath comes quicker : Hi I | They will ne’er forget the tale, | Which the song has fastened surely, As with a golden nail. I remember, late one evening, How the music stopped ; for hark !The Ministry of Song. Charlie’s nursery door was open, He was calling in the dark,— ‘Oh no! I am not frightened, And I do not want a light ; But I cannot sleep for thinking Of the song you sang last night. Something about a “ Pal And “make rough places plain,” And “ Comfort ye ;” so beautiful ! Oh, sing it me again!’ Sing at the cottage bedside ; They have no music there, And the voice of praise is silent After the voice of prayer. Sing of the gentle Saviour In the simplest hymns you know, And the pain-dimmed eye will brighten ,2 As the soothing verses flow. Better than loudest plaudits The murmured thanks of such, For the King will stoop to crown them~< =) UH) With Hee gracious * Inasmuch.’ | Sing, where the full-toned organ Resounds through aisle and nave, And the choral praise ascendeth In concord sweet and grave. Sing, where the village voices Fall harshly on your ear ; And, while more earnestly you join, Less discord you will hear. The noblest and the humblest Alike are ‘common praise,’The Ministry of Song. And not for human ear alone The psalm and hymn we raise. Sing in the deepening twilight, When the shadow of eve is nigh, And her purple and golden pinions Fold o’er the western sky. Sing in the silver silence, While the first moonbeams fall ; So shall your power be greater Over the hearts of all. Sing till you bear them with you Into a holy calm, And the sacred tones have scattered Manna, and myrrh, and balm. Sing! that your song may gladden ; Sing like the happy rills, Leaping in sparkling blessing <= Fresh from the breezy hills. \ Sing! that your song may silence 4 The folly and the jest, AF And the ‘idle word’ be banished “(jhe As an unwelcome guest. Sing! that your song may echo, After the strain is past, A link of the love-wrought cable ~ That holds some vessel fast. Sing to the tired and anxious ; It is yours to fling a ray, Passing indeed, but cheering, Across the rugged way.The Ministry of Song. Sing to God’s holy servants, Weary with loving toil, Spent with their faithful labour On oft ungrateful soil. The chalice of your music All reverently bear, For with the blessed angels Such ministry you share. When you long to bear the Message Home to some troubled breast, Then sing with loving fervour, ‘Come unto Him, and rest.’ Or would you whisper comfort, Where words bring no relief, Sing how ‘ He was despised, Acquainted with our grief? = And, aided by His blessing, The song may win its way Where speech had no admittance, And change the night to day. Sing So And marvellous love you feel, when His mighty mercies And the deep joy of gratitude Springs freshly as you kneel ; When words, like morning starlight, Melt powerless, rise and sing! KO And bring your sweetest music To Him, your gracious King. Pour out your song before Him To whom our best is due ; } Remember, He who hears your prayer ' | ' Will hear your praises too.The Ministry of Song. Sing on in grateful gladness ! Rejoice in this good thing Which the Lord thy God hath given thee, The happy power to sing. But yield to Him, the Sovereign, To whom all gifts belong, In fullest consecration, Your Ministry of Song, Until His mercy grant you That resurrection voice, Whose only ministry shall be To praise Him and rejoice. ” H the hidden leaves of Life! Closely folded in the heart ; y7 Leaves where Memory’s golden finger, Slowly pointing, loves to linger ; Leaves that bid the old tears start. Leaves where Hope would read the future, Sibylline, and charged with fate ; Leaves which calm Submission closeth, While her tearless eye reposeth On the legend, ‘Trust, and wait !’ Leaves which grave Experience ponders, Soundings for her pilot-charts ; Leaves which God Himself is storing, tecords which we read, adoring Him who writes on human hearts.Our Hidden Leaves. All our own, our treasured secrets, Indestructible archives ! None can copy, none can steal them, Death itself shall not reveal them, Sacred manuscripts of lives. Some are filled with fairy pictures, Half imagined and half seen ; tadiant faces, fretted towers, Sunset colours, starry flowers, Wondrous arabesques between. Some are traced with liquid sunbeams, Some with fire, and some with tears ; Some with crimson dyes are glowing, From a smitten life-rock flowing Through the wilderness of years. Some are crossed with later writing, Palimpsests of earliest days ; Old remembrance faintly gleaming Through the thinking and the dreaming, Outlines dim in noontide haze. One lies open, all unwritten, To the glance of careless sight ; Yet it bears a shining story, Traced in phosphorescent glory, Only legible by night. One is dark with hieroglyphics Of some dynasty of grief:Only God, and just one other, Dearest friend or truest brother, Ever read that hidden leaf. Many a leaf is undeciphered, Writ in languages unknown ; O’er the strange inscription bending, (very clue in darkness ending,) Finding no ‘ Rosetta Stone,’ Still we study, always failing ! God can read it, we must wait ; Wait until He teach the mystery, Then the wisdom-woven history Faith shall read, and Love translate. Leaflets, now unpaged and scattered, Time’s great library receives ; When eternity shall bind them, Golden volumes we shall find them, God’s light falling on the leaves.Threcfola Pratse. HaAYDN—MENDELSSOHN—HANDEI. a We bless Thee for our creation, preservation, and all the blessines of this life; but above all, for Thine inestimable love in the redemption of the world by our Lord Jesus Christ.’ s | 8 Chreclold Praise, tl ? ee PART I. hy ye i ‘We bless Thee for our creation.’ l a Haydn's ‘ Creation.’ CaN HAT is the first and simplest praise, The universal debt, ~~» Which yet the thoughtless heart of man | So quickly may forget ? | ‘We bless Thee for creation !’ | So taught the noble band Who left a sound and holy form, For ages yet to stand, Rich legacy of praise and prayer, Laid up through ages past, Strong witness for the truth of God: | Oh, may we hold it fast! |The Ministry of Song. “We bless Thee for creation !’ So are we blithely taught By Haydn’s joyous spirit ; Such was the praise he brought. ‘ A praise all morning sunshine, y And sparklets of the spring, 4 O’er which the long life-shadows “ No chastening softness fling. Cay A praise of early freshness, Of carol and of trill, Re-echoing all the music Of valley and of rill. A praise that we are sharing With every singing breeze, With nightingales and linnets, With waterfalls and trees ; With anthems of the flowers, Too delicate and sweet For all their fairy minstrelsy Our mortal ears to greet. A mighty song of blessing Archangels too uplift, For their own bright existence, A grand and glorious gift. But such their full life-chalice, So sparkling and so pure, And such their vivid sense of joy, Sweet, solid, and secure, We cannot write the harmonies ) To such a song of bliss, We only catch the melody, | And sing, content with this.Threefold Praise. We are but little children, And earth a broken toy ; We do not know the treasures In our Father’s house of joy. Thanksgivings for creation We ignorantly raise ; We know not yet the thousandth part Of that for which we praise. Yet, praise Him for creation ! Nor cease the happy song, But this our Hallelujah Through all our life prolong ; ‘Twill mingle with the chorus Before the heavenly throne, Where what it truly is To BE Shall first be fully known. PART II. swilt ! « ,. . preservation, and all the blessings of this life.’ AMendelssohv's * Elijah.’ FELIX! happy in thy varied store Of harmonies undreamt before, How different was the gift Of praise twas thine to pour, Whether in stately calm, or tempest strong andThe Ministry of Song. Mark the day, In mourning robe of grey, Of shrouded mountain and of storm-swept vale, And purple pall spread o’er the distance pale, While thunderous masses wildly drift In lurid gloom and grandeur: then a swift And dazzling ray bursts through a sudden rift ; The dark waves glitter as the storms subside, And all is light and glory at the eventide. O sunlight of thanksgiving! Who that knows Its bright forth-breaking after dreariest days, Would change the after-thought of woes For memory’s loveliest light that glows, If so he must forego one note of that sweet praise ! For not the song ; Which knows no minor cadence, sad and long; ‘ And not the tide Whose emerald and silver pride Was never dashed in wild and writhing fray, a os Mo Where grim and giant rocks hurl back the spray ; And not the crystal atmosphere, = That carves each outline sharp and clear Upon a sapphire sky : not these, not these, a Nor aught existing but to charm and please, Ae" 2h IST ae FSX, OS RE Without acknowledging life’s mystery, And all the mighty reign Of yearning and of pain That fills its half-read history, Fit music can supply To lift the wandering heart on high To that Preserving Love, which rules all change, And gives ‘all blessings of this life,’ so dream-like and so strange. co 7Lhreefold Praise. I aoe = ee eee And his was praise Deeper and truer, such as those may raise Who know both shade and sunlight, and whose life Hath learnt victorious strife Of courage and of trust and hope still dear, With passion and with grief, with danger and with fear. Upriseth now a cry, Plaintive and piercing, to the brazen sky : Help, Lord! the harvest days are gone ; Help, Lord ! for other help is none ; The infant children cry for bread, And no man breaketh it. The suckling’s tongue for thirst Now cleaveth to his mouth. Our land is cursed ; Our wasted Zion mourns, in vain her hands are spread. A mother’s tale of grief, Of sudden blight upon the chief, The only flower of love that cheered her widowed need : O loneliest ! O desolate indeed ! Were it not mockery to whisper here A word of hope and cheer ? A mountain brow, an awe-struck crowd, The prayer-sent flame, the prayer-sent cloud, A mighty faith, a more than kingly power, Changed for depression’s darkest hour ; For one lone shadow in the desert sought A fainting frame, a spirit overwrought, A sense of labour vain, and strength all spent for nought. Death hovering near, With visible terror-spear Of famine, or a murder-stained sword, A stricken land forsaken of her Lord ;The Ministry of Song. While, bowed with doubled fear, The faithful few appear ; O sorrows manifold outpoured ! Is blessing built upon such dark foundation ? And can a temple rising from such woe, Rising upon such mournful crypts below, Be filled with light and joy and sounding adoration | O strange mosaic ! wondrously inlaid Are all its depths of shade, With beauteous stones of promise, marbles fair Of trust and calm, and flashing brightly, there The precious gems of praise are set, and shine Resplendent with a light that almost seems Divine. Thanks be to God! The thirsty land He laveth, The perishing He saveth ; The floods lift up their voices, The answering earth rejoices. ae Thanks be to Him, and never-ending laud, For this new token of His bounteous love, Who reigns in might the waterfloods above : The gathering waters rush along ; And leaps the exultant shout, one cataract of song, Thanks be to God ! ! a ana Thus joyously we sing ; Nor is this all the praise we bring. We need not wait for earthquake, storm, and fire To lift our praises higher ; Nor wait for heaven-dawn ere we join the hymn Of throne-surrounding cherubim ; For even on earth their anthem hath begun, To Him, the Mighty and the Holy One.Threefold Praise. We know the still small Voice in many a word Of guidance, and command, and promise heard ; And, knowing it, we bow before His feet, With love and awe the seraph-strain repeat, Holy, Holy, Holy! God the Lord ! His glory fills the earth, His name be all-adored. O Lord, our Lord! how excellent Thy name Throughout this universal frame . Therefore Thy children rest Beneath the shadow of Thy win es, A shelter safe and blest ; And tune their often tremulous strings Thy love to praise, Thy glory to proclaim, The Merciful, the Gracious One, eternally The Same. . but aboye all, for Thine inestimable love in the redemption of the world by our Lord Jesus Christ.’ Handel’s ‘ Messiah.’ USH ! for a master harp is tuned again, Y/ In truest unison with choirs above, -\ For prelude to a loftier, sweeter strain, _ _The praise of God’s inestimable love ; Who sent redemption to a world of woe, Hush! while on silvery wing of holiest song Floats forth the old, dear story of our peace,— His coming, the Desire of Ages long, To wear our chains, and win our glad release. Our wondering joy, to hear such tidings blest, That all a Father’s heart His banished ones might know. Is crowned with ‘Come to Him, and He will give you rest.16 The Ministry of Song. Rest, by His sorrow! Bruised for our sin, Behold the Lamb of God! His death our life. Now lift your heads, ye gates ! He entereth in, Christ risen indeed, and Conqueror in the strife. Thanks, thanks to Him who won, and Him who gave Such victory of love, such triumph o’er the grave. Hark! ‘Hallelujah !’ O sublimest strain ! Is it prophetic echo of the day When He, our Saviour and our King, shall reign, And all the earth shall own His righteous sway ? Lift heart and voice, and swell the mighty chords, While hallelujahs peal to Him, the Lord of lords! ‘Worthy of all adoration ( Is the Lamb that once was slain,’ > Cry, in raptured exultation, His redeemed from every nation ; Angel myriads join the strain, Sounding from their sinless strings Glory to the King of kings ; Harping, with their harps of gold, Praise which never can be told. Hallelujahs full and swelling Rise around His throne of might, All our highest laud excelling ; Holy and Immortal, dwelling “ a In the unapproachéd light, a He is worthy to receive JX / 6 S } All that heaven and earth can give ; 2 ie 7 a . - : Blessing, honour, glory, might, All are His by glorious right. !Not Vet. As the sound of many waters Let the full Amen arise ! HALLELUJAH! Ceasing never, Sounding through the great FOR EVER, Linking all its harmonies ; Through eternities of bliss, Lord, our rapture shall be this, And our endless life shall be One AMEN of praise to Thee. JOHN Xiii. 7. Nor yet thou knowest what I do, O feeble child of earth, Whose life is but to angel view The morning of thy birth ! The smallest leaf, the simplest flower, The wild bee’s honey-cell, Have lessons of My love and power Too hard for thee to spell. Thou knowest not how I uphold The little thou dost scan ; And how much less canst thou unfold My universal plan, Where all thy mind can grasp of space Is but a grain of sand ;— The time thy boldest thought can trace, One ripple on the strand ! BThe Ministry of Song. Not yet thou knowest what I do In this wild, warring world, | Whose prince doth still triumphant view Confusion’s flag unfurled ; Nor how each proud and daring thought a Is subject to My will, Each strong and secret purpose brought My counsel to fulfil. Not yet thou knowest how I bid Each passing hour entwine Its grief or joy, its hope or fear, In one great love-design ; Nor how I lead thee through the night, By many a various way, Still upward to unclouded light, And onward to the day. Not yet thou knowest what I do Within thine own weak breast, To mould thee to My image true, And fit thee for My rest. But yield thee to My loving skill ; The veiled work of grace, From day to day progressing still, It is not thine to trace. pera De Yes, walk by faith and not by sight, ) | Fast clinging to My hand ; SH I Content to feel My love and might, AN I . Not yet to understand. . | A little while thy course pursue, a | | crit | Till grace to glory grow ; ry. | Then what I am, and what I do, \ Hereafter thou shalt know.Lhanksgii ng. Chanksygibing. GQ S22 4TIANKS be to God! to whom earth owes Sunshine and breeze, I Look for its bright increase, Deepening, widening, year by year, Like a sunlit river, strong, calm, and clear ; Lean on His love through this earthly vale, For His word and His work shall never fail, And ‘He is our Peace.’LAA 30 The Ministry a Song. The ear is free to list at A eae In darkness, veiling from the eye ne The Perec aed spells of light. it ff In shadowy outline dimly seen, A a . | ff Comes through the gloom a glorious Form, te] The once despised Nazarene. Through waiting silence, voiceless shade, A still, small Voice so clearly floats, A listening lifetime were o’erpaid By one sweet echo of such notes, ‘Fear not, belovéd ! thou art Mine, For I have given My life for thee ; By name I call thee, rise and shine, Be praise and glory unto Me. “In Me all spotless and complete, And in My comeliness most fair Art thou ; to Me thy voice is sweet, Prevailing in thy feeblest prayer.A Great Mystery. “Thy life is hid in God with Me, Cas I} I stoop to dwell within thy breast ; (4 | My joy for ever thou shalt be, And in My love for thee I rest. ‘O Prince’s daughter, whom I see In bridal garments, pure as light, Betrothed for ever unto Me, On thee My own new name I write.’ Lo! ‘neath the stars’ uncertain ray In flowing mantle glistening fair, One, lowly bending, turns away From that sweet voice in cold despair. Is it Humility, who sees Herself unworthy of such grace, Who dares not hope her Lord to please, Who dares not look upon His face ? Nay, where that mantle fleeting gleams, "Tis Unbelief who turns aside, Who rather rests in self-spun dreams, Than trust the love of Him who died. Faith casts away the fair disguise, She will not doubt her Master’s voice, And droop when He hath bid her rise, Or mourn when He hath said, ‘ Rejoice !’ Her stained and soiléd robes she leaves, And Christ’s own shining raiment takes ; What His love gives, her love receives, And meek and trustful answer makes: Casee ee The Ministry of Song. Ht J Knows that hand and heart are weary ; tax He, ‘in all points,’ felt the same. ‘ Behold the handmaid of the Lord ! Thou callest, and I come to Thee - According to Thy faithful word, O Master, be it unto me ! ‘Thy love I cannot comprehend, I only know Thy word is true, And that Thou lovest to the end Each whom to Thee the Father drew. ‘Oh! take the heart I could not give Without Thy strength-bestowing call ; In Thee, and for Thee, let me live, For I am nothing, Thou art all.’ Be not Weary. ES! He knows the way is dreary, Knows the weakness of our frame, 5 He is near to help and bless ; Be not weary, onward press. Look to Him who once was willing All His glory to resign, That, for thee the law fulfilling, All His merit might be thine.Le not Weary. a - o N = x Ut Strive to follow day by day Where His footsteps mark the way Look to Him, the Lord of glory, Tasting death to win thy life ; Gazing on that ‘ wondrous story,’ Canst thou falter in the strife ? Is it not new life to know That the Lord hath loved thee so ? Look to Him who ever liveth, Interceding for His own ; Seek, yea, claim the grace He giveth Freely from His priestly throne. f Wil He not thy strength renew a & With His Spirit’s quickening dew ? aN Look to Him, and faith shall brighten, Hope shall soar, and love shall burn ; “C¥* Peace once more thy heart shall lighten ; V ok Rise! He calleth thee! return ! oP Be not weary on thy way, 1° Jesus is thy strength and stay. A fat!The Mistry of Song. ee 2 SS S930 me Ghe Great Teacher. LOVE to feel that I am taught, ’ And, as a little child, To note the lessons I have learnt In passing through the wild. For I am sure God teaches me, And His own gracious hand Each varying page before me spreads, By love and wisdom planned. I often think I cannot spell The lesson I must learn, And then, in weariness and doubt, I pray the page may turn ; But time goes on, and soon I find I was learning all the while, And words which seemed most dimly traced Shine out with rainbow smile. | | Or sometimes strangely I forget, And, learning o’er and o’er | A lesson all with tear-drops wet, Which I had learnt before, | He chides me not, but waits awhile, Then wipes my heavy eyes : Oh, what a Teacher is our God, So patient and so wise !Lhe Great Teacher. eee Dark silent hours of study fall, And I can scareely see ; Then one beside me whispers low What is so hard to me. ‘Tis easier then! I am so glad T am not taught alone ; It is such help to overhear A lesson like my own. Sometimes the Master gives to me A strange new alphabet ; I wonder what its use will be, Or why it need be set. And then I find this tongue alone Some stranger ear ean reach, One whom He may commission For Him to train or teach. If others sadly bring to me A lesson hard and new, I often find that helping them Has made me learn it too. Or, had I learnt it long before, My toil is overpaid, If so one tearful eye may see One lesson plainer made. We do not see our Teacher's face, S We do not hear His voice, And yet we know that He is near, We feel it, and rejoice. There is a music round our hearts, Set in no mortal key ; There is a Presence with our souls, We know that it is He.The Ministry of Song. His loving teaching cannot fail ; And we shall know at last Each task that seemed so hard and strange, When learning time is past. Oh! may we learn to love Him more, By every opening page, By every lesson He shall mark With daily ripening age. And then, to ‘know as we are known Shall be our glorious prize, To see the Teacher who hath been So patient and so wise. O joy untold! Yet not alone Shall ours the gladness be ; The travail of His soul in us Our Saviour-God shall see.Rest, “Thou hast made us for Thyself, and the heart never resteth till it findeth rest in Thee.’— St. Augustine. Mane for Thyself, O God! Made for Thy love, Thy service, Thy delight ; Made to show forth Thy wisdom, grace, and might ; . Made for Thy praise, whom veiled archangels laud ; O strange and glorious thought, that we may be | A joy to Thee! Yet the heart turns away From this grand destiny of bliss, and deems "Twas made for its poor self, for passing dreams, Chasing illusions melting day by day ; Till for ourselves we read on this world’s best, ‘This is not rest !’ Nor can the vain toil cease, Till in the shadowy maze of life we meet One who can guide our aching, wayward feet To find Himself, our Way, our Life, our Peace. In Him the long unrest is soothed and stilled ; f Our hearts are filled. 2 ) O rest, so true, so sweet ! (Would it were shared by all the weary world !) ’Neath shadowing banner of His love unfurled, We bend to kiss the Master’s pierced feet ; Then lean our love upon His loving breast, And know God’s rest.The Ministry of Song. if S One Question, Many Anstuers, Yr \ } i HAT wouldst thou be 2’ » The question hath wakened wild thoughts in me, ef? And a thousand responses, like ghosts from oN their graves, “\ Arise from my soul’s unexplored deep caves, The echoes of every varying mood, Of a wayward spirit all unsubdued ; lg The voices which thrill through my inmost breast May tell me of gladness, but not of rest. What wouldst thou be 2 "Tis well that the answer is not for me. ‘What wouldst thou be?’ An eagle soaring rejoicingly. One who may rise on the lightning’s wing, Till our wide, wide world seem a tiny thing ; Who may stand on the confines of boundless space, And the giant form of the universe trace, While its full grand harmonies swell around And grasp it all with mind profound. Such would I be, Only stayed by infinity. > ‘What wouldst thou be? A bright incarnation of melody. One whose soul is a fairy lute, Waking such tones as bid all be mute,iN R ‘ ra N A N N Ny \ y XN th eee Picerniniontig i. “Of “LIKE A LAUGHING FLOWERET ON MOUNTAINS WILD.‘R R & S WY y N N LLLP EDs sgOne Question, M. any Answers. 39 Breathing such notes as may silence woe, i Pouring such strains as make joy o’erflow, Speaking in music the heart’s deep emotion, ly Soothing and sweet as the shell of the ocean. Such would I be, Like a fountain of music, all pure and free. ‘What wouldst thou be?’ | A living blossom of poesy. | A soul of mingled power and light, Evoking images rare and bright, Fair and pure as an angel’s dream ; | Touching all with a heavenly gleam, And royally claiming from poet-throne Earth’s treasure of beauty as all mine own. Such would I be— My childhood’s dream in reality ! a ae ‘What wouldst thou be?’ | A wondrous magnet to all I see. | A spirit whose power may touch and bind | AWE With unconscious influence every mind ; Whose presence brings, like some fabled wand, The love which a monarch may not command, As the spring awakens from cold repose The bloomless brier, the sweet wild rose. Such would I be, With the love of all to encircle me ! ‘What wouldst thou be?’ A wavelet just rising from life’s wide sea. | I would I were once again a child, | | \ “CEN E Me Like a laughing floweret on mountains wild ; | (he iNOS aoe Pate | Soh Us" In the fairy realms of fancy dwelling, | | aN The golden moments for sunbeams selling ;none Dopp iy: The Ministry of Song. liver counting on bright to-morrows, And knowing nought of unspoken sorrows. Such would I be, A sparkling cascade of untiring glee. ‘What wouldst thou be ?’ A blessing to each one surrounding me ; A chalice of dew to the weary heart, A sunbeam of joy bidding sorrow depart, To the storm-tossed vessel a beacon light, A nightingale song in the darkest night, A beckoning hand to a far-off goal, An angel of love to each friendless soul : Such would I be. Oh that such happiness were for me! ‘What wouldst thou be 2’ With these alone were no rest for me. I would be my Saviour’s loving child, With a heart set free from its passions wild, Rejoicing in Him and His own sweet ways ; An echo of heayven’s unceasing praise, A mirror here of His light and love, And a polished gem in His crown above. Such would I be, Thine, O Saviour, and one with Thee !a ee Content. AI ontent, ‘“ WHAT wouldst thou be?” A wavelet just rising from life’s wide sea. I would I were once again a child, Like a laughing floweret on mountains wild ; In the fairy realms of fancy dwelling, The golden moments for sunbeams selling ; Ever counting on bright to-morrows, And knowing nought of unspoken sorrows: Such would I be, A sparkling cascade of untiring glee. ? Not so, not so! For longings change as the full years flow. When I had but taken a step or two From the fairy regions still in view ; While their playful breezes fanned me still At every pause on the steeper hill, And the blossoms showered from every shoot, Showered and fell, and yet no fruit,— It was grief and pain That I never could be a child again. Not so, not so! Back to my life-dawn I would not go. A little is lost, but more is won, As the sterner work of the day is done. We forget that the troubles of childish days Were once gigantic in morning haze. There is less of fancy, but more of truth, For we lose the mists with the dew of youth ; And a rose is born On many a spray which seemed only thorn.Lhe Ministry of Song. Not so, not so! While the years of childhood glided slow, There was all to receive and nothing to give Is it not better for others to live 2 And happier far than merriest games Is the joy of our new and nobler aims: Then fair fresh flowers, now lasting gems ; Then wreaths for a day, but now diadems, For ever to shine, Bright in the radiance of Love Divine. Not so, not so! I would not again be a child, I know! But were it not pleasant again to stand On the border-line of that fairy land,— Feeling so buoyant and blithe and strong, Fearing no slip as we bound along, Halting at will in the sunshine to bask, Deeming the journey an easy task, While Courage and Hope Smooth with ‘Come, see, and conquer’ each emerald slope 2 Not so, not so! Less leaping flame, but a deeper glow ! There is more of sorrow, but more of Joy, Less glittering ore, but less alloy ; There is more of pain, but more of balm, And less of pleasure, but more of calm ‘ Many a hope all spent and dead, But higher and brighter hopes instead ; Less risked, more won ; Less planned and dreamed, but perhaps more done.Misunderstood. | Not so, not so! Not in stature and learning alone we grow. . | Though we no more look from year to year ly | For power of mind more strong and clear, | Though the table-land of life we tread No widening view before us spread, No sunlit summits to lure ambition, But only the path of a daily mission, We would not turn Where the willo’-the-wisps of our young dreams burn. Then be it so! For in better things we yet may grow. Onward and upward still our way, With the joy of progress from day to day ; Nearer and nearer every year To the visions and hopes most true and dear ; Children still of a Father's love, Children still of a home above! Thus we look back, Without a sigh, o’er the lengthening track. er ™ NSO OR ? BY ° | } > end My } Nie ie ron Mm eZ Kgl? Re OOM 2 PSR -—