Harriet skinner mc roberts poetry

Harriet Skinner McRoberts Poetry
Along With Other Public Domain Christian Poems
EDITED BY GLENN PEASE
A
ABIDE
ABIDE WITH US. SISTER M. GENEVIEVE TODD,
Abide with us ! Thy presence sweet and holy.
Still let us see, O Fellow-Pilgrim fair !
All day we've journeyed ; now our hospice lowly
We pray Thee share.
Thy voice full oft upon the way of danger,
A joy unto our fainting spirits lent.
Abide with us ! for day, O gentle Stranger,
Is now far spent.
Abide with us ! Soon will the night winds carry
Their chilling dews : go not Thou further on.
Beneath our roof, we humbly beg Thee, tarry
1

Until the dawn.
'Twas thus of all, their Master undiscerning,
The two disciples hard by Emmaus' gate,
Their hearts enamored in their bosoms burning,
Did supplicate.
O Friend Divine ! so long my steps attending,
My Fellow-Pilgrim o'er life's lonely way,
The evening comes and low before Thee bending
Thus do I pray :
Abide with me ! Life's ray is dimly sinking.
And sombre shades are falling thick and' fast.
Dissolving death, each tie of earth unlinking,
Comes on at last.
Abide with me ! The night is lone and dreary ;
But safe with Thee upon Thy bosom blest
I'll lean and trust ; till, hke a child a-weary,
I sink to rest.
ANGELS
THE REAPERS ARE THE ANGELS.
2

SISTER M. GENEVIEVE TODD,
"And the reapers are the angels." — St. Matt. xiii. 39.
Silently, silently groweth the harvest,
Deep'ning its golden hue, day unto day
Patiently, patiently waiteth the reaper
To lay up the treasure in heaven away.
Steadily, steadily, moment by moment
Never returning, life's weary sands creep,
Soon will be given the heavenly mandate —
" Thrust in thy sickle, O Angel, and reap."
Angel of God, when the Master shall bid thee
Gather the deeds of my lifetime complete.
Gently, sweet Guardian Spirit, oh reap me
And lay me redeemed at His glorified feet.
THE ANGELAS STORY.
'THROUGH the blue and frosty heavens
" Christmas stars were shining bright ;
3

Glistening lamps throughout the City
Almost matched their gleaming light ;
While the winter snow was lying,
And the winter winds were sighing,
Long ago, one Christmas night.
While, from every tower and steeple,
Pealing bells were sounding clear,
(Never with such tones of gladness,
Save when Christmas time is near,)
Many a one that night was merry
Who had toiled through all the year.
That night saw old wrongs forgiven.
Friends, long parted, reconciled ;
Voices all unused to laughter.
Mournful eyes that rarely smiled.
Trembling hearts that feared the morrow,
From their anxious thoughts beguiled.
Rich and poor felt love and blessing
From the gracious season fall ;
Joy and plenty in the cottage,
Peace and feasting in the hall ;
4

And the voices of the children
Ringing clear above it all !
Yet one house was dim and darkened ;
Gloom, and sickness, and despair,
Dwelling in the gilded chambers,
Creeping up the marble stair,
Even stilled the voice of mourning,—
For a child lay dying there.
Silken curtains fell around him.
Velvet carpets hushed the tread,
Many costly toys were lying.
All unheeded, by his bed ;
And his tangled golden ringlets
Were on downy pillows spread.
The skill of that mighty City
To save one little life was vain, —
One little thread from being broken,
One fatal word from being spoken ;
Nay, his very mother's pain,
And the mighty love within her.
Could not give him health again.
5

So she knelt there still beside him,
She alone with strength to smile,
Promising that he should suffer
No more in a little while,
Murmuring tender song and story
Weary hours to beguile.
Suddenly an unseen Presence
Checked those constant moaning cries.
Stilled the little heart's quick fluttering.
Raised those blue and wondering eyes,
Fixed on some mysterious vision.
With a startled sweet surprise.
For a radiant angel hovered,
Smiling, o'er the little bed ;
White his raiment, from his shoulders
Snowy dove-like pinions spread.
And a starlike light was shining,
In a Glory round his head.
While, with tender love, the angel,
Leaning o'er the little nest,
6

In his arms the sick child folding,
Laid him gently on his breast,
Sobs and wailings told the mother
That her darling was at rest.
So the angel, slowly rising,
Spread his wings, and through the air
Bore the child, and, while he held him
To his heart with loving care,
Placed a branch of crimson roses
Tenderly beside him there.
While the child, thus clinging, floated
Towards the mansions of the Blest,
Gazing from his shining guardian
To the flowers upon his breast.
Thus the angel spake, still smiling
On the little heavenly guest :
"Know, dear little one, that Heaven
Does no earthly thing disdain,
Man's poor joys find there an echo
Just as surely as his pain ;
Love, on earth so feebly striving,
7

Lives divine in Heaven again !
One in that great town below us.
In a poor and narrow street,
Dwelt a little sickly orphan ;
Gentle aid, or pity sweet,
Never in life's rugged pathway
Guided his poor tottering feet.
" All the striving anxious fore- thought
That should only come with age
Weighed upon his baby spirit,
Showed him soon life's sternest page ;
Grim Want was his nurse, and Sorrow
Was his only heritage.
"All too weak for childish pastimes,
Drearily the hours sped ;
On his hand so small and trembling
Leaning his poor aching head.
Or, through dark and painful hours,
Lying sleepless on his bed.
" Dreaming strange and longing fancies
8

Of cool forests far away ;
And of rosy, happy children,
Laughing merrily at play.
Coming home through green lanes, bearing
Trailing boughs of blooming May.
" Scarce a glimpse of azure heaven
Gleamed above that narrow street,
And the sultry air of summer
(That you' call so warm and sweet)
Fevered the poor orphan, dwelling
In the crowded alley's heat.
" One bright day, with feeble footsteps
Slowly forth he tried to crawl,
Through the crowded city's pathways,
Till he reached a garden-wall,
Where 'mid princely halls and mansions
Stood the lordliest of all.
'* There were trees with giant branches.
Velvet glades where shadows hide ;
There were sparkling fountains glancing
Flowers, which in luxuriant pride
9

Even wafted breaths of perfume
To the child who stood outside.
He against the gate of iron
Pressed his wan and wistful face,
Gazing with an awe struck pleasure
At the glories of the place ;
Never had his brightest day-dream
Shone with half such wondrous grace.
" You were playing in that garden,
Throwing blossoms in the air,
Laughing when the petals floated
Downwards on your golden hair ;
And the fond eyes watching o'er you,
And the splendor spread before you,
Told a House's Hope was there.
" When your servants, tired of seeing
Such a face of want and woe,
Turning to the ragged orphan.
Gave him coin, and bade him go,
Down his cheeks so thin and wasted
Bitter tears began to flow.
10

"But that look of childish sorrow
On your tender child-heart fell.
And you plucked the reddest roses
From the tree you loved so well.
Passed them through the stern, cold grating,
Gently bidding him ' Farewell ! '
" Dazzled by the fragrant treasure
And the gentle voice he heard.
In the poor forlorn boy's spirit,
Joy, the sleeping Seraph, stirred j
In his hand he took the flowers.
In his heart the loving word.
" So he crept to his poor garret ;
Poor no more, but rich and bright,
For the holy dreams of childhood —
Love, and Rest, and Hope, and Light —
Floated round the orphan's pillow
Through the starry summer night.
*' Day dawned, yet the visions lasted ;
All too weak to rise he lay ;
11

Did he dream that none spake harshly,
All w^ere strangely kind that day ?
Surely then his treasured roses
Must have charmed all ills away.
'* And he smiled, though they were fading;
One by one their leaves were shed ;
* Such bright things could never perish,
They would bloom again,' he said.
When the next day's sun had risen
Child and flowers both were dead.
"Know, dear little one ! our Father
Will no gentle deed disdain ;
Love on the cold earth beginning
Lives divine in Heaven again,
. While the angel hearts that beat there
Still all tender thoughts retain. "
So the angel ceased, and gently
O'er his little burden leant ;
While the child gazing from the shining,
Loving eyes that o*er him bent,
To the blooming roses by him,
12

Wondering what that mystery meant.
Thus the radiant angel answered,
And with tender meaning smiled :
" Ere your childlike, loving spirit,
Sin and the hard world defiled,
God has given me leave to seek you,—
I was once that little child ! "
In the churchyard of that city
Rose a tomb of marble rare
Decked, as soon as Spring awakened,
With her buds and blossoms fair, —
And a humble grave beside it, —
No one knew who rested there.
— Adelaide Procter.
APOLOGIA
What shames were done thee, what despite
Was offered thee in bygone years;
What crimes were conjured in that night.
The grim "Dark Ages," black with fears!
In every time and every fashion
13

Thou hast been hurt by guilty hands,
When men of dark reptilian passion
Have sought thee out in hateful bands.
(Behold the morn when each at Judgment stands!)
But self-styled Christians, hard and cruel,
Dared feed thee to the rack and flame;
Consigning thee as human fuel
In His dear Name; in His dear Name .
Who loved thee well enough to die for thee;
(Who loved me well enough to die for me).
These horrid blasphemies congeal the heart.
And every humble Christian in the earth
Declares with trumpet voice to Israel.
HARRIET SKINNER McROBERTS
B
THE BACKSLIDER RECOVERED-
If heaven and earth were both combined,
They could no other ransom find,
P'or guilty, wretched, lost mankind,
But Jesus.
14

Ah ! who my misery could tell ?
Oh ! who my torment could expell,
Or save from sinking into hell.
But Jesus?
Who saw my soul in ruin lay ;
Who condescended thus to say,
Come back, Come!back, this is the way ?
'Twas Jesus.
Who bade me to return again,
And seek so that I might obtain,
That crown which ever will remain ?
'Twas Jesus.
Who saw me sink beneath my grief,
And quickly sprang to my relief,
And saved me, me only by belief ?
'Twas Jesus.
Who said thy sin's forgiven thee,
Take up thy cross and follow me.
And I'll thy God and Saviour be ?
15

'Twas Jesus.
Who could this load of guilt remove,
And fix my heart on things above.
And fill my soul with heavenly love
But Jusus?
Not all the men on earth below.
Nor angels, could such mercy show
Nor any save me from my woe.
But Jesus.
'Twas thou who died upon the tree,
To save backsliders — such as me ;
Healed all my wounds and set me free-
Sweet Jesus.
Although I wandered far from God,
And trampled underfoot thy blood,
Thou dost delight to do me good
Dear Jesus.
BURDENS
HOW gentle God's commands,
16

How kind his precepts are !
Come, cast your burdens on the Lord,
And trust his constant care.
Beneath his watchful eye
His saints securely dwell ;
That hand which bears all nature up
Shall guard his children well.
Why should this anxious load
Press down your weary mind ?
Haste to your heavenly Father's throne
And sweet refreshment find.
His goodness stands approved,
Unchanged from day to day :
1'11 drop my burden at his feet,
And bear a song away.
— Doddridge,
BURIAL
The Last Resting Place.
My days may short, or numbered be.
17

But when my happy spirits free,
I ask no tear to damp the sod,
When once my spirit's with my God,
In realms of bliss,
I ask no rose or running vine,
Around my mouldering dust to wind;
I ask no marble at my head.
Where strangers often might be led.
To read My name.
I ask no chisled verse to deck.
The cold, the low, the mouldering wreck,
I ask not fame my name to spread,
When once I'm with the silent dead.
There let me rest.
I ask no costly robe to spread.
Upon my breast when I am dead,
I ask a plain a simple dress;
To meekly fit me off to rest,
When I am gone,
I ask a true a lasting friend,
18

A thought, a sigh, to sometimes lend,
To sometimes visit where I rest,
And feel a calm within their breast,
That I'm in Heaven.
I ask a friend to mark my tomb,
Not by a myrtle's gaudy bloom,
But by a willow which will spread,
It's graceful branches o're my head,
With mournful wave.
C
CALL
THE DIVINE CALL.
" The Master has come and calleth for thee." — St. John
19

xi. 28. SISTER M. GENEVIEVE TODD,
The Master calls for thee.
Arise roy soul, and hasten to His feet,
Thy sorrow like the morning mist will flee
There in His presence sweet.
'Tis He, thine only Lord,
He loving comes to be thine humble guest,
" Come unto Me," — His sweet, consoling word,
" And I will give thee rest."
'Tis He, thy faithful Friend,
Who longs to fold thee to His Heart divine.
Who in His love would share unto the end
Each joy and grief of thine.
'Tis He, thy Love ; no more
O soul of mine, resist thy heavenly Spouse.
In grateful love, go plight Him o'er and o'er
Thine everlasting vows.
Go, sit thou at His feet
And ponder o'er the lessons of His Heart.
20

Go, spend thy life in one Communion sweet,
Go, choose the " better part."
I'm Thine, dear Lord, forever more
Whatever may befall.
And Thou art mine, my Life, my Love,
My Jesus and my All.
CALL
SOUL, soul, thou art passing,
Just now, the border lands :
Soul, soul, thy God is calling
Thee, from the border lands.
Soul, soul, what wilt thou answer,
When thou shalt stand alone.
Before thy God and Saviour,
Midst the glories of the throne?
How hast thou passed the border ?
What course pursued below ?
Of all I gave thee, warder.
Hast conquered every foe ?
21

Soul, soul, hear Jesus calling !
He waits for thee above,
Oh ! answer now, responding
In faith, and hope, and love.
— Henry C. Graves.
CHILDREN
Jan. 4, 1914. Jesus and the Children. Mark 9:30-41;
10:13-16. REUBEN T. MARTIN
Then Jesus wished that no one know,
As on through Galilee they go,
Disciples only, now He'd teach.
And to the multitude not preach.
He'd have them understand how men
Would take, and crucify Him then.
Disciples could not understand;
A worldly kingdom they had planned.
22

''What were you arguing in the way?"
The Master now would have them say.
''Who was the greatest," they'd discussed;
For high position, each did lust.
Then Jesus, in their midst sets child ;
So meek and lovely, ! so mild,
And teaches them to childlike be :
Not jealous, but from sin set free.
If humble be your place in life,
Do best you can, amid the strife.
Do not rebuke them for the same.
CHRIST
CHRIST, THE CORNER-STONE.
MRS AGNES SMITH
The corner-stone is Jesus,
But He will let us in
If we are only willing
To be chiselled out by Him.
The chisel may cut deeply,
23

But its in the master's hands
And He only knows what's needed
To prepare us for that land.
When fitted in by Jesus
We'll be perfect, smooth and bright,
And be ready at His coming,
Be it morning, noon or night.
So we'll let the chips fly freely,
They are only bits of clay,
And we'll thank our dear kind master
That He chiselled them away.
We'll be fittly joined together
With His blood He did atone;
When He comes He'll take us with Him,
Everyone, a living stone.
CHRIST CHILD
HAIL, THE CHRIST-CHILD.
24

'Tis solemn midnight ; over all
The silver moonbeams coldly fall.
And like the murmur of the sea
The night-wind moans — how bitterly !
But list ! above the snowy plain
Resounds a wondrous glad refrain :
" Be praise to God, be peace on earth"
The herald of the Saviour's birth.
Oh, let us meetest offring bring
And haste us to our Infant King,
Who in the matter He hath made
Is masked and in a manger laid.
Our Life, our Truth, our Way,
Our Yesterday, To-day,
Our Joy of all that now we see.
Our Hope, — our Heaven yet to be.
In cave of earth where Thou art thrust.
To mingle with Thy creatures' dust.
We stand abashed at love of Thine,
And mute adore, O Babe Divine !
O Holy Child ! O beauteous One !
25

O Juda's Star ! O Mary's Son !
HAIL, THE CHRIST-CHILD.
The Stable cave so cold and drear
Is heaven now, for Thou art here.
Thy sinless Mother hovers nigh ;
Thy foster-father standeth by ;
The angels voice their joy, and we
Our " Nunc dimittis " sing to Thee.
Our Joy of all that now we see,
Our Hope,— our Heaven yet to be.
A manger must Thy cradle be.
Poor Bethlehem hath no room for Thee,
No room — for Thou art Lord of all.
And in Thy baby hand so small,
The trembling earth Thou boldest up
As a dewdrop in a lily-cup.
26

No room ? — Dear Babe, vve give to Thee
Our lowly hearts Thy home to be ;
Fill them and leave Thou room for none
But Thee alone, sweet little One !
What blessedness, what heavenly charms,
To hold Thee in our mortal arms !
Our Joy of all that now we see
Our Hope, — our Heaven yet to be. .
COME
"COME unto Me, ye weary,
O blessed voice of Jesus,
Which comes to hearts oppressed ;
It tells of benediction,
Of pardon, grace, and peace.
Of joy that hath no ending,
Of love which cannot cease
27

" Come unto Me, ye wanderers.
And I will give you light.
O loving voice of Jesus,
Which comes to cheer the night ;
Our hearts were filled with sadness,
And we had lost our way ;
But He has brought us gladness
And songs at break of day.
" Come unto Me, ye fainting,
And I will give you life ;
O cheering voice of Jesus,
Which comes to aid our strife ;
The foe is stern and eager,
The fight is fierce and long ;
But He has made us mighty,
And stronger than the strong.
"And whosoever cometh,
I will not cast him out."
O welcome voice of Jesus,
28

Which drives away our doubt ;
Which calls us very sinners,
Unworthy though we be,
Of love so free and boundless,
To come, dear Lord, to Thee.
— Unidentified.
CONVERSION
GIVE ME THY HEART.
WITH echoing steps the worshipers
Departed one by one ;
The organ's pealing voice was stilled,
The vesper hymn was done ;
The shadows fell from roof and arch,
Dim was the incensed air,
One lamp alone, with trembling ray,
Told of the Presence there !
29

In the dark church she knelt alone ;
Her tears were falling fast ;
"Help, Lord," she cried, "the shades of death
Upon my soul are cast !
Have I not shunned the path of sin,
And chosen the better part ? '' —
What voice came through the sacred air ? —
" My child, give me thy Heart."
" Have I not laid before Thy shrine
My wealth, O Lord ? " she cried ;
" Have I kept aught of gems or gold,
To minister to pride ?
Have I not bade youth's joys retire,
And vain delights depart ? ' '
But sad and tender was the voice, —
" My child, give me thy Heart.''
" Have I not. Lord, gone day by day
Where Thy poor children dwell ;
And carried help, and gold, and food ?
O Lord, Thou knowest it well ?
30

From many a house, from many a soul.
My hand bids care depart : " —
More sad, more tender was the voice, —
"My child, give me thy Heart."
" Have I not worn my strength away
With fast and penance sore ?
Have I not watched and wept ? she cried ;
"Did Thy dear saints do more?"
Have I not gained Thy grace, O Lord,
And won in heaven my part ? " —
It echoed louder in her soul, —
"My child, give me thy Heart."
"For I have loved thee with a love
No mortal heart can show ;
A love so deep, my saints in heaven
Its depths can never know ;
When pierced and wounded on the cross,
Man's sin and doom were mine,
I loved Thee with undying love.
31

Immortal and divine !
"I loved Thee ere the skies were spread ;
My soul bears all thy pains ;
To gain thy love my sacred heart
In earthly shrines remains :
Vain are thy offerings, vain thy sighs,
Without one gift divine ;
Give it my child, thy heart to me.
And it shall rest in mine. "
In awe she listened, and the shade
Passed from her soul away ;
In low and trembling voice she cried, —
"Lord, help me to obey.
Break Thou the chains of earth, O Lord,
That bind and hold my heart ;
Let it be Thine, and Thine alone,
Let none with Thee have part.
Send down, O Lord, Thy sacred fire !
Consume and cleanse the sin
32

That lingers still within its depths ;
Let heavenly love begin.
That sacred flame Thy saints have known,
Kindle, O Lord, in me,
Thou above all the rest forever,
And all the rest in Thee."
The blessing fell upon her soul ;
Her angel by her side
Knew that the hour of peace was come ;
Her soul was purified :
The shadows fell from roof and arch,
Dim was the incensed air, —
But Peace went with her as she left
The sacred Presence there !
— Adelaide Procter,
33

D
DEATH
Yes harmless indeed, for she's sent from above,
With a weapon severe, yet blended with love;
She gently is smiling, with eyes dancing bright,
Her head is adorned, jessamin's white.
She is flitting with pinions all glittering, and bright,
Where the flowers rise blushing, from shades of the night;
Where the songsters are clapping their glad wings with glee,
O'er forests so dreary, o'er landscape and sea.
She stops for a moment, to look on the gay,
Then touching a heart-cord, he is quickly away;
Not waiting to pause for a moment to see,
How saddened the face of her victim may be.
Oh no, he's a sinner — I regard not his cry,
34

His warnings were many, he passed them all by;
He looked with disdain on the spirit of grace,
Till she gently withdrew her loving sweet face.
She is out on the wing, 'tis the hour of night.
Who in it she'll visit by the moons gentle light?
The stars are all twinkling, with joy to behold,
The spirit so lovely, so pure, yet bold.
She has passed; she has folded her pinions so wliite.
How lovely she looks in the moons gentle light;
She is creeping so gently from flower, to flower,
From myrtle to myrtle from bower to bower.
She gently aproaches the half open door.
Did her.eyes e'er behold such meekness before?
She paused to behold the form pale and thin,
'Twas commanded by heaven, she must enter in.
The lamps are all burning, the curtains are drawn.
No voice can be heard, within the sad room;
Upon a low couch a form may be seen.
The loveliest, the meekest, that ever was slain.
35

It was a young minister, whose race just begun,
Was now to be called from his labors so soon;
Death enters — Oh ! must she perfonn the dread task,
Oh ! must she unsheath the cold weapon at last.
She approaches the couch, he beholds she is near,
He smiles to behold her, he welcomes her there,
His heart is now stilled, — his spirits free,
And Angels, and saraphs, its companion will be.
DEATH
ROXIE M. BARRETT,
Yes harmless indeed, for she's sent from above,
With a weapon severe, yet blended with love;
She gently is smiling, with eyes dancing bright,
Her head is adorned, jessamin's white.
She is flitting with pinions all glittering, and bright,
Where the flowers rise blushing, from shades of the night;
Where the songsters are clapping their glad wings with glee,
O'er forests so dreary, o'er landscape and sea.
She stops for a moment, to look on the gay,
36

Then touching a heart-cord, he is quickly away;
Not waiting to pause for a moment to see,
How saddened the face of her victim may be.
Oh no, he's a sinner — I regard not his cry,
His warnings were many, he passed them all by;
He looked with disdain on the spirit of grace,
Till she gently withdrew her loving sweet face.
She is out on the wing, 'tis the hour of night.
Who in it she'll visit by the moons gentle light?
The stars are all twinkling, with joy to behold,
The spirit so lovely, so pure, yet bold.
She has passed; she has folded her pinions so wliite.
How lovely she looks in the moons gentle light;
She is creeping so gently from flower, to flower,
From myrtle to myrtle from bower to bower.
She gently aproaches the half open door.
Did her.eyes e'er behold such meekness before?
She paused to behold the form pale and thin,
'Twas commanded by heaven, she must enter in.
37

The lamps are all burning, the curtains are drawn.
No voice can be heard, within the sad room;
Upon a low couch a form may be seen.
The loveliest, the meekest, that ever was slain.
It was a young minister, whose race just begun,
Was now to be called from his labors so soon;
Death enters — Oh ! must she perfonn the dread task,
Oh ! must she unsheath the cold weapon at last.
She approaches the couch, he beholds she is near,
He smiles to behold her, he welcomes her there,
His heart is now stilled, — his spirits free,
And Angels, and saraphs, its companion will be.
DELIVERER
A DELIVERER
A Strength to burst the bars of death;
A Reach as deep as sin doth lie.
As far aside as sorrow's moan,
As high as God's forgiving throne;
A Speed, comparing, light doth jog;
A Voice that sends a living tone
38

Through worlds and hearts and souls afog;
An Eloquence that whispers: "Love";
A Mind that planned each star and sun
Before creation had begun;
A Heart endued with saving power
For man's hurt soul, sin-dirked each hour.
To save man's soul, consumed with loss;
Who taketh Christ, His blood and cross.
A DELIVERER
Who taketh man for his deliverer
Hath found a wisdom six feet high;
A strength to lift three hundred pounds;
A reach as far, as low, as high
As utmost finger-tip, and wide;
A speed that covers with his stride
A city's length in one brief hour;
An eloquence of voice and lip.
Persuasive where can reach his smile,
Heard on the breeze almost a mile;
A mind that many subjects spans.
Adept at temporary plans;
A heart endowed with saving power
For his own soul, through aeon's flight
39

— For life ... at least a year , . , a night?
Who taketh Christ for his Deliverer
Hath found a Wisdom heaven-high.
DUTY
MRS AGNES SMITH
There's a path that leads to duty,
And one, the other way.
God would like to know, dear children,
Which path you have travelled today.
For the master is calling for workers,
The laborers are very few,
The harvest's all ripened and ready,
He's calling for me and for you.
But methinks I hear someone saying,
"Excuse me, dear master, today,
40

For I've bought a yoke of oxen
And for them I have to pay."
And a voice from o'er in the corner,
In accents loud and clear,
Saying, "I've married a wife, dear master,
And to me she is very dear."
And still another voice saying,
"I've gathered some friends to my home,
The banquet for them is all ready.
We'll eat, drink, be merry, each one."
So the master looks down in sorrow
As He pleads with us day by day,
To tell them the gospel story
As they're passing along our way.
So may each one here this evening
See their duty bright and clear,
And gather them in from the by-ways,
For the master draweth near.
The battle will soon be over,
41

The fight will not last long
If we're found in the path of duty,
We'll soon sing the victor's song.
DYING CHILD.
My dying hours have come at last,
My breath will soon be gone,
I now must leave my mother dear,
In tears to weep and mourn.
I long to go to heaven above,
To join the angels' band,
I hate to leave you, mother dear
Here in this sinful land.
But still from you I'm bo.und to go, .
For God has called me home,
Oh come and kiss your dying child,
For I will soon be gone.
I soon will cross the stream of death,
For that is plain to see,
42

But when I am gone, my mother dear,
Please do not grieve for me.
I see bright angels around the throne,
With hearts all filled with love.
They wait to waft my trembling soul.
To brighter realms above.
And mother, kiss my pallid cheeks,
From you I now must go,
I hope, when we meet again.
We will meet to part no more.
GONE TO REST
Weep not dear friends, for she is gone,
We, too, must soon follow on;
And breath our last and latest breath.
Then close our eyes sink down in death.
We should not weep for those that's gone,
But be prepared to follow on;
But still it's hard to see them go,
43

And leave us weeping here below.
Weep not, dear children, for mother -dear,
But be prepared to follow her;
For God will call you all away,
On earth you cannot always stay.
Weep not, dear husband, for your wife,
She was the comfort all through life;
In pleasure or in sickness, too.
She always was the same to you.
Weep not, for she is gone to rest,
Her spirit is forever blest;
Her body now sleeps in a tomb,
Her spirit rests in heaven, home.
E
44

EVERLASTING BLESSINGS.
" I know that whatsoever God doeth it shall be forever."
— EccLES. iii. 14.
WHAT everlasting blessings God outpoureth on His own !
Ours by promise true and faithful, spoken from eternal throne ;
Ours by His eternal purpose ere the universe had place ;
Ours by everlasting covenant, ours by free and royal grace.
With salvation everlasting He shall save us. He shall bless
With the largess of Messiah, everlasting righteousness;
Ours the everlasting mercy all His wondrous dealings prove ;
Ours His everlasting kindness, fruit of everlasting love.
In the Lord Jehovah trusting, everlasting strength have we ;
He Himself, our Sun, our Glory, everlasting Light shall be ;
Everlasting life is ours, purchased by The Life laid down ;
And our heads, oft bowed and weary, everlasting joy shall crown.
We shall dwell with Christ forever, when the shadows flee away.
In the everlasting glory of the everlasting day.
Unto Thee, beloved Saviour, everlasting thanks belong.
Everlasting adoration, everlasting land and song.
45

— Frances Ridley Havergal,
EVERY CHRISTIAN
Than the smallest crawling worm,
Who has never spent a term
Of ingratitude to one
Who died for him.
Hide me, hosts and seraphim!
He reads all these black hearts plainly;
I read one, and read it vainly
For fidelity one half's worth
Unto Him, That I pay to things a laugh's worth.
Sometimes men and things of chaff's worth. In the earth.
Sometimes these are good and gracious.
Thoughtful, earnest and sagacious;
But my loyalty to Him,
Side by side with these, is dim.
These are flashing; This is dim.
Come ye, come we, to God's throne light;
Search one heart in God's Son's Own light.
EVERY CHRISTIAN
46

Only He, the Lamb of God, Could bridge sin's untold abyss
Twixt my heart and throne of God, Twixt my darkened earthiness
And God's changeless holiness.
Mine the sin, the guilt, the loss;
His the anguish, His the Cross.
His great Passion was effectual
For the plain, the wise, the textual.
Princes, toilers, monarchs, peasants.
Every man who will believe Him,
Every man who will receive Him,
Instantly a child of God is.
Never to depart His presence.
Let us each raise eyes to heaven.
Knowing that we are forgiven
For our self days, self months, self years.
Self praise, self plans, self joys, self tears,
When we look up to His face,
Shining with God's glowing grace;
When we honestly confess
That we are a little less.
EVERY CHRISTIAN
He my Peace through outward strife,
He my Strength for steepest way,
47

He the Branch and Trunk and Root
And Leaf and Fruit Of my life;
My Tree of life.
Do I give nine hours to me, and one to Him;
Do I give nine steps to me, and one to Him;
Do I give nine thoughts to me, and one to Him; Or, softly, heart.
Whisper apart.
Do I give ten tenths to me, and none to Him?
On God's throne the Son sits, knowing
What He paid, and what I'm owing.
No one knows, save Christ alone.
What He gave for me alone;
But my heart knows well, full well,
That He came once down to dwell.
And to be the Crucified.
He came down to die; and died;
That from sin 1 might go free,
While He paid the penalty.
F
48

FACING DEATH
ONE sweetly solemn thought
Comes to me o'er and o'er :
I'm nearer home to-day
Than I have been before ;
Nearer my Father's house,
Where many mansions be,
Nearer the great white throne,
Nearer the crystal sea.
Nearer the bound of life,
Where burdens are laid down,
Nearer to leave the cross,
And nearer to the crown ;
But lying dark between,
And winding through the night,
The deep and unknown stream
Crossed ere we reach the light.
49

Jesus, confirm my trust ;
Strengthen the hand of faith
To feel Thee, when I stand
Upon the shore of death.
Be near me when my feet
Are slipping o'er the brink ;
For I am nearer home.
Perhaps, than now I think.
— Phcebe Cary.
FAITHFULNESS
What it contains,
What it disdains;
In God's great light, as God beholds it.
Am I following afar off, Denying Him;
Ready my pilgrim cloak to doff. Denying Him;
Telling the passers-by with careless voice:
"1 know Him not, 1 serve Him not, I love Him not;
In Him I do not e'er rejoice
Who died for me On Calvary."
Am I following afar off. Denying Him?
Or Am 1 walking close beside. At morningtide,
At noon, at night, my Lord beside;
50

Drenched with His love.
Warmed with His faith.
Fed by His Word.
FORGIVENESS
June 8, 1913. Joseph Forgives His Brethren. Gen. 45:
1-15. 7s. REUBEN T. MARTIN
Ev'ry one depart from me.
Brethren you alone I'll see.
Joseph then himself makes known;
Yes, despite unkindness shown.
Joseph weeps so loud that day,
Sounds within the walls don 't stay.
Standing on the outside nigh,
The Egyptians hear the cry.
Brethren, now come near to me,
I am Joseph, now you see.
Is my father yet alive ;
51

Is he well, and does he thrive ?
Be not grieved, nor angry be.
That you did not set me free.
God did send me on before,
That the king I might implore.
That he might give you the best
Of this country, God has blest.
It is God, who sent me here.
To preserve your lives so dear.
Haste, go up to father, dear;
Tell him I am ruler here ;
Tell him haste, come down to me,
For his face I long to see.
G
GETHSEMANE.
MRS AGNES SMITH
52

Gethsemane, Gethsemane.
The Saviour of this world knew thee,
He sweat great drops of blood for me,
In the Garden of Gethsemane.
His twelve disciples with him went
But He selected only three,
To watch with Him for one short hour,
But sleep o'ercome their mortal power.
One of the twelve a traitor was,
He hated Christ without a cause.
'Twas then He plead for him and me,
In the Garden of Gethsemane.
Gethsemane, I love thee well,
'Twas there He suffered much for me.
E'en Satan tried at that late hour
To wrest from Him his saving power.
But Jesus saw me standing there,
A creature lost in great despair.
He drank the cup for you and me,
53

And followed on to Calvary.
O Calvary, O Calvary,
It was my sins that nailed Him there,
He paid the debt and set me free;
He gave me hope and not despair.
He broke the fetters of the tomb,
He conquered sin and then the grave,
Shall I not give my heart to Him,
To me, eternal life He gave.
GOSPEL
CHRIST TASTED DEATH FOR EVERY MAN.
MRS AGNES SMITH
For God so loved the world
And that means you and me
That He gave His precious son
To die on Calvary.
Did He forsake the cross,
The cross He bore for me.
Will I, then, trample in the dust,
54

The Blood of Calvary?
No, with my latest breath,
And, with His help, obey
And do His holy will.
For us He died on Calvary,
Our needy souls to save,
But soon we'll sing the triumph song
Of victory o'er the grave.
GRATITUDE
THE RADIANT HEART I HAVE
To rush away to pray.
For God hath poured across my way
A hundred gifts since yesterday:
Sunlight, Day's toil.
Sweet might. Earth's moil.
Friendship, Love's face.
Worship, God's grace.
I have to rush away to pray.
For God hath poured across my way
A hundred gifts since yesterday.
55

GUIDANCE
MY SOUL SO WAYWARD
Then Thou who pitiest his plight.
Dost lead him to the highway,
With lamp fresh kindled at Thy light.
To keep him from the by-way.
At length he reacheth home, where still.
Thou keepest comfort ever;
He basks and feasts him with a will,
And vows to leave Thee never.
My soul so oft doth rudely run away from Thee;
But Thou dost never run away from him, from me.
When he departeth, loving Thee, but fickle, quite,
Then Thou dost draw him back with heart-strings infinite.
H
56

HEARING
WHEN our heads are bowed with woe,
When our bitter tears overflow,
When we mourn the lost, the dear.
Gracious Son of Mary, hear !
Thou our throbbing flesh hast worn.
Thou our mortal griefs hast borne,
Thou hast shed the human tear :
When the solemn death-bell tolls
For our own departing souls.
When our final doom is near.
Thou hast bowed the dying head,
Thou the blood of life hast shed,
Thou hast filled a mortal bier :
When the heart is sad within
With the thought of all its sin.
57

When the spirit shrinks with fear,
Thou, the same, the grief hast known ;
Though the sins were not Thine own.
Thou hast deigned their load to bear :
--Heber.
HEAVEN
BROTHER,! WILL MEET THEE THERE-
Brother, you asked me to meet thee there.
In the land of the good, and the home of the fair.
Where sorrow ne'er comes nor sins ne'er distress;
There to bask in God's love, and lean on his breast.
Yes brother, thou knowest I will join in that bliss,
Oh! is not that land far better than this?
Where sickness, and sorrow, and blight ne'er can come, —
Yes my hopes are all bright, we'll meet in that home.
That laud of bright pleasure, where flowers doth bloom,
And there odor's are wafted — the sweetest perfume,
58

The zephyr's that fan us from Eden's sweet bowers,
And the tune is not counted by weeks nor by hours.
The light that doth shine, and the gloiy so bright,
From a Father divine that giveth all light.
Where the cherubims there in praises doth bow,
Oh! I long for that glory— I feel it e'en now.
Yes, brother, I'll meet you, when time is no more,
I'll meet thee so gladly on canaan's bright shore,
For it seems that the gate is now standing ajar,
And the loved one's are waiting to welcome us there.
And there with the angels we'll bow at His feet,
And loud hallujahs with joy we'll repeat.
Crying glory, and honor, and praise to His name,
T'was for our redemption, the dear Lamb was slainJ
Dear brother I'll meet tliee, where partings are o'er.
Where distance divideth, our sad hearts no more.
Then quick to thy breast, with joy will I flee;
And sing as I'm coming, that Jesus loves me.
We will plume our glad wings, and sing as we fly,
59

Hosanna to Jesus, the King of the sky!
And there with the loved ones, who are gone on before,
And millions who are waiting to gain that bright shore.
We'll sing hallelujoih, the loved ones are found.
And oh! with what joy, our spirits will bound,
The angels will catch, the glad sounds as we fly.
And echo, and re-echo, the saved of the sky.
Then louder, still louder, the echo will ring,
While the tallest archangel will clasp his glad wings,
Till full of sweet rapture, rings heaven's high dome,
The redeemed of the Lord are all gathering home.
[Composed by Roxie M. Barrett, Nov. r882 for her much loved brother, James
E. Stephens, and in respon.s« to u. request in his loving ietter asking her to meet
him in Heaven].
HEAVEN
REUBEN T. MARTIN
I had read Miss Fanny J. Crosby's first hymn. I won-
dered if I could compose one myself, though I had never
60

tried to do so; so before retiring to rest on the evening
of April 17, 1911, I took my pencil and wrote one stanza.
I awoke during the night and composed two stanzas. I
finished my first poem on the next morning. Below I give
it as corrected by Miss Fanny J. Crosby, the greatest
hymn writer on earth.
We are goiug, we are going,
"We shall soon be over there,
Where we'll sing in heaven forever,
With the angels bright and fair.
We are going, we are going.
Where there 's joy and not a sigh ;
We shall rest from all our labors,
In that home beyond the sky.
We shall see dear Fanny Crosby
With her crown of many stars
And the souls she brought to Jesus,
In that home where nothing mars.
She will meet the precious loved ones,
Made so happy by her song;
61

how they will sing together.
With the mighty angel throng.
We are going, we are going.
Where there 's joy and not a sigh ;
We shall sing with Fanny Crosby
In the joyful by and by.
HEAVEN
THE LAND OF IJGHT.
'THAT clime is not this dull clime of ours ;
All, is brightness there ;
A sweeter influence breathes around its flowers,
And a far milder air.
No calm below is like that calm above.
No region here is like that realm of love ;
Earth's softest spring ne'er shed so soft a light,
Earth's brightest summer never shone so bright.
That sky is not like this sad sky of ours,
Tinged with earth's change and care ;
62

No shadow dims it, and no rain-cloud lowers, —
No broken sunshine there !
One everlasting stretch of azure pours
Its stainless splendor o'er these sinless shores ;
For there Jehovah shines with heavenly ray,
There Jesus reigns dispensing endless day.
Those dwellers there are not like these of earth,
No mortal stain they bear ;
And yet they seem of kindred blood and birth, —
Whence, and how came they there ?
Earth was their native soil, from sin and shame,
Through tribulation they to glory came ;
Bond-slaves delivered from sin's crushing load,
Brands plucked from burning by the hand of God.
Those robes of theirs are not for these below ;
No angel's half so bright !
Whence came that beauty, whence that living glow ?
Whence came that radiant white ?
Washed in the blood of the atoning Lamb,
63

Fair as the light those robes of theirs became,
And now, all tears wiped off from every eye,
They wander where the freshest pastures lie,
Through all the nightless day of that unfading sky !
— Horatius Bonar,
HEAVEN
How sweet to live and breathe fresh air^
That God to us has given,
But sweeter is that place above,
Prepared for us in heaven.
We often meet with troubles here,
On earth they all are given;
There is a place no troubles come,
And that is found in heaven.
We toil on earth and work through life,
But still our hearts are given;
To love the sin that's found on earth,
And cuts us out of heaven.
64

We should not grieve if death is near,
If our sins are all forgiven;
We'll go to God in mansions high,
And live with Him in Heaven.
HOPE
My faith I hope will stay the same,
And ever love my Savior's name
And when this body comes to die,
My soul will go to God on high.
There unite with friends above
And sing our Saviors dying love,
Then never more to suffer pain
With Jesus Christ forever reign.
Our faith in Christ will stronger grow
When released from trials here below,
From pain and death will then be free
Our friends and loved ones all will see.
65

They will meet us at the portal gates
Long many years they had to wait,
Jesus says there is room for all
For every one that obey his call.
HOPE
'Tis hope that brightens up our path,
And drives all gloom away;
But if we loose this blessed hope,
We will from our dut}^ stray.
'Tis hope that helps the farmer,
To labor in his field;
For God has ^promised those who sow,
Will never fail to reap.
'Tis hope that helps the preacher on,
The gospel to proclaim;
And preach salvation to the world,
Poor sinners^ hearts to gain.
'Tis hope that helps the doctor on.
The sick one for to cure;
66

But if they die he'll still have hope,
And try to cure the more.
Tis hope that helps the Christain on.
And all through life is sweet;
Then when he comes to leave this world,
His God he hopes to meet.
HUSBAND
"FOR THY MAKER IS THINE HUSBAND"
Bend not to own Him, But He will come for thee Who art His dove.
He will gather thee up in His strong fond arms,
Shielding thy form from earth's hideous harms;
Whispering low. Whispering low,
Soothing thine heart from its latter alarms.
Bearing thee swiftly across the wide plain;
Steering thee safely across the great sea;
Back from the earth's farthest reach and demesne,
He will convey thee, sweet; He, only He.
He will actuate the way:
Horse and saddle. Boat and paddle.
Eastern camel, northern sleigh;
Southern skiff and light canoe.
Plying out from green bayou;
Western motor, fastest train,
67

Man o' war and aeroplane.
This He shall order, accomplish in truth,
For His great love of thee, Wife of His truth.
HUSBAND
"FOR THY MAKER IS THINE HUSBAND" (Isaiah 54:5)
Thou wandering, heartsick, beautiful wife,
Thy pain is grievous, thy wrongs are rife;
Thy feet are bleeding, thy flesh is bruised,
Thy lovely self hath been cruelly used.
Tormentors, deadly and hell-inspired,
Have racked thee, wrung thee, and required
Thy strength, thy treasure, thine infants' cries,
To slake their hearts' monstrosities.
But thy cause lies deeper than murderers' glee;
It lies between thine Husband and thee.
The day is coming when thou shalt return
To the land where thy hearth fires always shall burn.
Sweet, He will come for thee;
Sweet, He will fly to thee.
Open thine heart to His old, old love!
Hard thou hast been to Him.
68

HYMN
HYMN TO THE SACRED HEART.
Heart of Jesus ! ever pleading
In Thy tenderness for me,
Turns my heart, thy summons heeding
All unworthy now to Thee.
List ! in loving tones I hear :
" Come ye weary, care oppressed "
To Thy throne I'm drawing near
Heart of Jesus, be my rest !
Chorus.
In Thy depths so pure and holy
Let our home and refuge be,
Heart of Jesus, meek and lowly.
Keep our hearts alone for Thee.
Humbly now its fears confessing
69

Bows my weary, falt'ring heart,
Speak, oh, speak some word of blessing.
Let it feel how near Thou art.
All its murmurings shall cease
At the bidding of Thy will.
Let it hear Thy whispered : " peace "
And its tempests shall be still.
Chorus,
Heart of Jesus! sweetly feed me
With the manna of Thy love,
Like a gentle shepherd lead me
To Thy sheltered fold above.
In Thy Wound, O Sacred Heart
Let me trustingly abide,
Never, never more to part
From Thy pierced bleeding side.
Chorus.
What of ill can e'er betide me,
While within Thy depths I live ?
70

What have I to wish beside Thee,
What hath heaven more to give ?
Then, as in the shelt'ring rock
Hides the wounded, trembling dove,
Let my soul of all bereft
Find in Thee its only love.
Chorus.
Swift the sands of life are flowing,
Soon my pilgrimage will end.
Soon life's shadows deeper growing
With the night of death will blend.
I
IMMORTALITY
THE ISSUES OF LIFE AND DEATH.
OH, where shall rest be found —
71

Rest for the weary soul ?
'Twere vain the ocean depths to sound,
Or pierce to either pole.
The world can never give
The bliss for which we sigh :
'Tis not the whole of life to live,
Nor all of death to die.
Beyond this vale of tears
There is a life above,
Unmeasured by the flight of years ;
And all that life is love.
There is a death whose pang
Outlasts the fleeting breath :
Oh, what eternal horrors hang
Around the second death
Lord God of truth and grace,
Teach us that death to shun.
. Lest we be banished from Thy face,
And evermore undone.
72

Here would we end our quest ;
Alone are found in Thee,
The life of perfect love, — the rest
Of immortality.
— -James Montgomery.
INFLUENCE
Go, little poems, far and near,
To lonely hearts may you give cheer.
Be ever this our humble prayer,
That they may bless a soul somewhere.
From earth, I soon will pass away,
But may my verses with you stay.
And may they cheer your pathway here
Until you meet your Savior, dear.
Composing these gave me much joy ;
I hope they may not you annoy;
But, thank the Lord, He gave me grace
That I might fill this humble place.
73

In these, my poems, you will find
Expressions of my heart and mind;
And may their gentle influence win
A soul for Christ, a soul from sin.
REUBEN T. MARTIN
J
JACOB'S VISION.
It was down in the valley,
Where Jaco? made his bed;
A rock was for a pillow,
To rest his weary head.
It was there he saw a vision,
To show that God is love;
A host of heavenly angels,
Descended from above.
74

He saw a mighty ladder,
Reaching to the skies;
And angels descending.
And ascending all the night.
When he beheld the vision,
In the darkness of the night;
The angels were all around him.
And filled him with delight.
God sends his holy angels,
In visions and in dreams;
And if we only trust him,
Our souls he will redeem.
When Jacob beheld that vision,
And angels moving all around;
He felt like he was standing,
No doubt, on holy ground.
There among the hills and jagged rocKs,
Where wild beasts often roam;
Jacob made a covenant with his soul.
75

And rearer' an altar made of stone.
It was there he saw the pathway plain,
Led up from earth to heaven so bright;
Angelic messengers come and go,
With garments all so pure and white.
JESUS
"A PRINCE AND A SAVIOUR"
Why do I follow Him? Just because I love Him;
Just because I count Him worth the world and heaven combined.
He is my horizon, my sunrise, and my morning.
O who would not go with the Best that love can ever find!
I contemplate His loveliness. And clasp my hands in wonder;
I listen to His fond reproofs, my heart-strings torn and mute;
I gather up His precious gifts and con their vastest number.
And seek as love doth ever seek. Love's marvels to compute.
JESUS OF NAZARETH IS PASSING BY,
SISTER M. GENEVIEVE TODD
76

Jesus is passing ! I -wonder
Why mid the heedless throng,
Day after day He tarrieth here
Calling and waiting so long?
Healing, forgiving and blessing,
None doth He ever deny.
Mayhap He's seeking for thee, my soul*
Now as He's passing by.
Jesus is passing ! I wonder
Will He be always nigh ?
Will He with loving, patient tread,
Ever be passing by ?
When with its glooms and its shadows
Night shall o'ertake us at last,
Wary with seeking for thee, my soul,
Will He have sadly passed ?
JESUS TEACHING
" Never did man speak as this man." — St. John vii : 46.
77

Rabonni ! Dearest Lord !
None other as Thy word
Can lift my heart from earthly care,
And hush its murmurs into prayer.
No teacher like to Thee,
So bounteous and free,
Can daily give to me anew
Both light to see and strength to do.
No heart like Thine can cheer.
No love like Thine so dear.
No voice like Thine hath stillness broken,
And never man like Thee hath spoken !
O privilege most sweet, —
To gather at Thy feet,
The wisdom Thou from sage concealing
Art unto " little ones " revealing.
" Learn of me, for I am meek and humble of heart, and
you shall find rest to your souls." — St. Matt. xi. 29.
78

JESUS
TO THE SACRED HEART.
O Jesus ! in Thy Sacred Heart,
So weary of earth's toils, would I,
From every sordid care apart —
My soul's deep yearning satisfy.
Like Noe's dove, my spirit sore
On weary wing, in fruitless quest,
Earth's dreary waste has wandered o'er
And seeks at last its Ark of Rest.
Poor is the gift to Thee I bring,
But Thou, dear Lord, wilt not despise,
"Wilt not reject rny offering, —
A contrite heart for sacrifice.
Thou who has fashioned it must know
Its weaknesses, its wants, its pain,
Its poverty and all its woe,
79

Its longings to be whole again.
No notes of sorrow can it tell
But that in full, sweet sympathy.
Find answer in Thine own, and swell
Into divinest harmony.
Jesus ! humble and most sweet,
Most merciful, most pure, divine,
I pray and o'er and o'er repeat :
Make my poor heart like unto Thine.
Beneath the blue and bending skies
My path in morning beauty lies.
As in my ardent love and true
I plight my happy heart anew,
And ready for the toils of day
Look eager out upon the way.
The waiting cross is rude and long,
I clasp it to my bosom strong,
And joyous pray on bended knee
" Ecce ancilla Domini ! "
80

'Tis noontide ; and 'neath burning skies
My path in heat and fever lies.
While far around the dreary sand
Is gleaming o'er the desert land.
Forever gone those hours that bless, —
Those scenes of morning loveliness, —
And heavy o'er my spirit lies
The cross of toil and sacrifice
Yet, Lord, I kneel and pray to Thee :
" Ecce ancilla Domini."
Now falls the evening sweet and blessed.
The flocks are gathered to their rest ;
The floweret pale has folded up
Its golden heart within its cup ;
And where the woodland dewy weeps,
The nested bird in safety sleeps.
Dear Lord, upon Thy loving breast
My heart can find its only rest,
Alone and sad I come to Thee,
" Ecce ancilla Domini."
81

THE PRESENTATION.
" They carried Him to Jerusalem to present Him to
the Lord." — St. Luke ii. 22.
The white bloom of our darkened race,
Now kneels the Mother undefiled.
And in her maidenly embrace,
Lies like a bud, the Holy Child.
She hears the " Nunc Dimittis " fall
From Simeon's lips and tremblingly
Her Glory and her Fruit, — her All
She offers up for me, — for me.
O tender Mother in thine arms
Keep safe thy Treasure yet a while ;
Encloister Him with all His charms,
And feast thy heart upon His smile,
For comes the sick'ning hour instead,
82

When 'mid the gloom of Calvary,
Reviled and torn and bruised and dead
My soul will give Him back to thee.
K
L
LATE
NOT TOO LATE.
Sinner, will you stop and think,
About your wretched fate?
83

A-nd if you wait till after death,
You'll be too late! too late!
For Jesus Christ has died for all,
His suffering was great;
If you through life reject his call,
Youll be too late! too late!
Repent, believe His Holy Word,
And trust him for his sake;
Then when you die. He'll never cry,
Too late! too late! too late.
For angels will rejoice above,
Throw open wide the gate;
And bear the glorious message home,
Thank God, its not too late!
84

LEFT BEHIND
LEFT BEHIND.
LOOK at this starbeam ! From its place of 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 fairest fair.
Undimmed it reaches me ; but yet alone :
The thousand gay companions that took wing
Along 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;
Myriads in yon dark cloud have spent their force ;
A few stray gleams are all that reach our shore.
And with us ! How many, who began
85

Life's race with us, are dropping by the way ;
Losing themselves in darkness one by one,
From the glad goal departing wide astray;
When we shall reach the kingdom of the blest,
How few who started with us shall we find
Arriving or arrived, for glorious rest I
How many shall we mourn as left behind !
— Horatius Bonar.
LILIES
CONSIDER THE LILIES.
Consider how the lilies grow ;
Not an anxious care they know,
Nodding gaily to and fro
Through the summer hours.
Toiling never,
Trusting ever
Happy, favored flowers.
86

Feeding on the rays of light
Drinking in the dews of night,
Growing ever pure and bright
And so wondrous fair.
Toiling never,
Trusting ever
Their Creator's care.
Ah, my soul, in peace abide ;
He doth feed thee, He doth guide.
And for all thy wants provide
Far more tenderly.
Doubt Him never.
For He ever
Loves and cares for thee.
LOVE THY NEIGHBOR
" Thou Shalt Love Thy Neighbor as Thyaelf."
I CANNOT learn to love you, neighbor.
Except my Christ with God's own sabre
Shall cleave my self-grown heart.
He must with fearless thrust cut through
87

My thoughts of self to thoughts of you,
And rend them wide apart.
If He desist, I shall be certain
To drape my heart in self-hood's curtain,
Excluding His bright light. In darkest ease,
preoccupied, I should forget the Crucified,
And never see your plight.
M
MERCY
Have mercy, Lord, have mercy Thou on me !
Alone and sick I turn imploringly,
As day by day in penury I wait
To beg a pittance at Thy temple gate.
Yea, Lord, the loathsome leprosy of sin
Hath long defaced Thy beauteous work within,
88

Yet, 'neath these scales, though beggared and defiled.
Behold me still Thy creature, — still Thy child.
Thou who hast made me, Thou wilt not despise
My voice of weeping and my piteous cries.
Unclean ! unclean! Low in the dust I fall !
Pity me, pity me, Lord of all !
Almighty Ruler of the wind and wave
'Tis Thou canst heal, — 'tis Thou alone canst save.
Thy hand outstretch. O Thou of gentle mien,
And speak the word of blessing " Be thou clean ! "
Consoler of the hopeful, — Master stay,
Nor from Thy presence cast my soul away.
Forbid it not, where none but grace do meet.
That one who hopes should perish at Thy feet !
No price I bring — no privilege I claim
But hide my face in sorrow and in shame.
Unclean, unclean! hark to the leper's cry !
Pity me, pity me. Lord, I die !
89

MINISTRY
ROXIE M. BARRETT,
Dread was the fearful task for thee,
When that small voice first said to thee,
Take up thy cross and follow me,
And I'll thy shield and portion be,
'Till Jesus calls thee home.
Still trembling at the uplifted sword,
You took God's law — the Holy Word,
And day and night you o'er it poured.
Wielding with might the spirits sword,
Seeking a bright reward
Methinks I see the trembling stand,
Before that little chosen band,
While there with high uplifted hand.
Imploring God by thee to stand,
And teach thee what to say.
Come near, come near the crucified,
Come near and see his hands and side;
90

It is for sinners he hath died,
Behold, behold the crimson tide;
'Twill make thee white as snow.
Come rich, come poor, come bond and free,
The atonement here is full and free.
It is God's word I offer thee,
Come take counsel now of me;
And to thy Saviour bow.
Urged here before you, not for gain,
Oh! no, these words would give me pain,
It is for Jesus who was slain.
That precious bleeding, dying Lamb — -
The boon I offer thee.
Repent, repent ye fallen race,
Look and behold his smiling face,
Come, taste the riches of nis grace.
Come, come the whole Adamic race.
And own him conquerer.
Rise tune your harps ye angels bright,
And give God's servant courage, might,
91

To put the hosts of hell to flight,
While heaven rejoices with delight;
And calls thee to the skies.
Your voice may sound from shore, to shore,
'Till sun shall rise and set no more,
'Twill be thy theme for ever more,
Upon that sweet that peaceful shore,
Behold, behold the Lamb.
Composed Aug. 3rd 1870.
MIRACLE
When Christ and his Disciples,
Were on the Ocean deep,
The Master being weary,
Lay down and fell asleep.
The angry waives came rolling,
And in the ship did pour,
His Disciples kept on working,
But could not reach the shore.
At last they waked the Master,
Who still lay sound asleep.
92

He rebuked the angry waters,
And calmed them on the deep.
He spoke unto the raging waves.
And said peace be still,
For he possessed all power,
To do His Father's holv will.
The angry sea did quickly calm,
And waves no longer roared,
In joy these men could sing a Psalm,
And sail on with peace of mind restored
This blessed Lord and master,
He has all power to save.
It was He who called poor Lazarus,
And raised him from the grave.
And still there is another,
A poor widows son it is said,
That Jesus restored to life,
For whom she moaned as dead.
93

And when you read the scriptures,
You there will plainly see,
Jesus walked upon the waters,
The sea of Galilee.
And every one who loves him.
And His blessed laws obey
He has promised in the scriptures.
To take all vour sins awav.
MISSION
REUBEN T. MARTIN
Jan. 11, 1914. The Mission of the Seventy. Luke 10:
1-24.
The Lord appointed seventy more,
And sent them two and two before.
To many places they must go,
He'd follow soon, He let them know.
94

To us He gives the same command.
Before to go. He doth demand.
How pleasant to us now to-day.
To think that Jesus comes our way.
The harvest truly 's very great.
The lab'rers few, we must relate.
Pray that the Lord more workers send,
Of those on whom He can depend.
Let's work for Jesus, mind and heart,
From us he then will ne 'er depart,
And in the future bye and bye
He'll take us to His home on high.
A MESSAGE FOR THE HEATHEN.
MRS AGNES SMITH
I have a message for the heathen,
Yes, a message bright and fair.
I shall send it o'er to Africa
To a people in despair.
95

Who have never heard of Jesus,
Who died to set them free,
Oh, how I'd love to tell them
Of the cross He bore for me.
But I am only a little girl,
And how can I go there?
But I'll save up all my pennies,
For I know I've some to spare.
So I won't buy any chewing gum,
Or candy, while at school.
For I intend to sacrifice
And learn the golden rule.
And we will ask you older ones,
To help us all you can,
Not with pennies but with dollars,
For the heathen of that land.
And when we see our Saviour come
From Heaven to claim His own,
By our effort and His sacrifice
Some shall reach their Heavenly home.
96

Moses before Pharaoh, preparing to lead
the Children of Israel out of Egyptian Bondage. —
It is night in the capital of Pharaoh,
This mighty monarch there of old;
Has vowed by all the powers on earth,
That Moses shall see his face no more.
He has sworn by the life of Pharaoh,
This Hebrew Moses whom he hates;
Shall nevermore enter his mansion,
But shall die within the palace gates.
When the sun rose up in the eastern horizon,
The children of Israel went marching on;
Then Moses the Hebrew commander.
Led them six hundred thousand strong.
He led them on through the desert,
A path where they never had trod;
When a light appeared in the distance,
97

This light was the pillor of God.
This was a guide for the journey,
This light hung far overhead;
When Moses the servant of Israel,
By the spirit of Jehovah was led.
The light moved on in the distance,
Until it hung just over the sea;
The children of Israel all murmured,
To cross over this never can be.
Then Moses the Lord's great captain,
Stood by with a rod in his hand;
When he commanded, the waters divided,
All crossed safely over dry land.
Moses and all of the children.
Then crossed safely over the sea;
And all sing the song of triumph.
To the God who set them free.
Then Pharaoh came on with his army,
To cross over the sea they were bound;
98

But the Lord turned loose the great waters
And Pharaoh with his host were all drowned.
MOTHER
A Mother in Heaven-
A mother in Heaven, what a peaceful delight,
Where angels are touching their harpstrings so bright,
And the fruits are all ripe and the waters run free,
And there my sweet mother is waiting for me.
A mother in Heaven, where blights ne'er can come;
Where no storms ever howl, no clouds cast a gloom —
Where angels are bowing, such glory to see,
I know she is waiting, and watching for me.
A mother in Heaven; yes I know she is there,
For she wispered when dying "Oh I long to be there."
Oh I long. Oh I long that bright mansion to see,
For I know my blessed mother is waiting for me.
A mother in heaven, in those mansions so fair.
99

Where the redeemed of all ages, are gathering there,
And there with the loved ones, she longed so to see,
I know she is waiting, and watching for me.
A mother in heaven, where no care and no pain.
Can ever distress, or disturb her again.
But to Him who redeemed her, her praises shall be,
And I know she is waiting, and watching for me.
A mother in heaven, where cometh no night.
For Jesus her Saviour, the fountain of light.
Is tliere — Oh! such glory, for mortals to see,
And mother is there now watching for me.
A mother in heaven, her passport was sealed,
And she shouted "Oh happy" as swift she sailed
Away from the shore, her blest Saviour to see;
And blight is the home where she, waiting for me,
A mother in heaven, where the streets are all gold,
And the walls are all Jasper, so bright we are told,
And the harps pour forth melodies, soft, sweet and free;
While mother is watching so gladly for me.
100

A mother in heaven, with her pinions so bright,
She is watching so close, from her mansion of light.
She is guarding each footstep, so closely for me;
And I hear her soft whisper, I am waiting for thee.
Yes, mother I know thou art waiting for me,
For in raptures divine, thy face now I see.
And I know that the gate, is now standing ajar;
And my dear blessed mother, will soon welcome me there.
ROXIE M. BARRETT
[Composed by the author on the death of her much loved mother, Mrs. Ann
Stephens, who died, Dec. 21st, 1SS2].
MORNING
MORNING.
HUES of the rich unfolding morn.
That, ere the glorious sun be born.
By some soft touch invisible,
Around his path are taught to swell ; —
Thou rustling breeze, so fresh and gay.
101

That dancest forth at opening day.
And brushing by with joyous wing,
"Wakenest each little leaf to sing ; —
Ye fragrant clouds of dewy steam,
By which deep grove and tangled stream
Pay, for soft rains in season given.
Their tribute to the genial heaven ; —
"Why waste your treasures of delight
Upon our thankless, joyless sight,
Who, day by day, to sin awake,
Seldom of heaven and you partake ?
Oh ! timely happy, timely wise,
Hearts that with rising morn arise !
Eyes that the beam celestial view,
Which evermore makes all things new !
New every morning is the love
Our wakening and uprising prove :
Through sleep and darkness safely brought,
Restored to life, and power, and thought.
102

New mercies, each returning day.
Hover around us while we pray ;
New perils past, new sins forgiven,
New thoughts of God, new hopes of heaven.
If on our daily course our mind
Be set, to hallow all we find,
New treasures still, of countless price,
God will provide for sacrifice.
Old friends, old scenes, will lovelier be,
As more of heaven in each we see :
Some softening gleam of love and prayer
Shall dawn on every cross and care.
As for some dear familiar strain
Untired we ask, and ask again.
Ever, in its melodious store,
Finding a spell unheard before.
Such is the bliss of souls serene.
When they have sworn and steadfast mean,
Counting the cost, in all to espy
Their God, in all themselves deny.
103

O could we learn that sacrifice,
What lights would all around us rise !
How would our hearts with wisdom talk
Along life's dullest, dreariest walk !
We need not bid, for cloister'd cell,
Our neighbor and our work farewell,
Nor strive to wind ourselves too high
For sinful man beneath the sky :
The trivial round, the common task,
Would furnish all we ought to ask ;
Room to deny ourselves ; a road
To bring us, daily, nearer God.
Seek we no more ; content with these,
Let present rapture, comfort, ease,
As heaven shall bid them, come and go : —
The secret this of rest below.
Only, O Lord, in Thy dear love
Fit us for perfect rest above ;
And help us, this and every day.
104

To Uve more nearly as we pray.
— John Keble,
THE MOUNT OF OLIVES
He Cometh with balm for thy healing;
For thee, His first love, He doth yearn;
Sweet princess, for thee He doth yearn.
He Cometh to raise thee to splendor,
To banish thy pain and thy grief;
To soothe away all thy long weeping.
In love that shalt win thy belief;
Thy late but exalted belief.
At hour of thy sure extirpation,
He cometh with might from God's throne;
He cometh to vanquish the nations
That seek to destroy thee, His own,
His long loved and long cherished own.
Then thou shalt discover His wound prints,
And mourn in the heart of thine heart.
That thou didst not honor His province
In days when He suffered, apart;
The Just for the unjust, apart.
105

SCENES ON THE MOUNTAINS.
Mount Ararat is a sacre placed as the scriptures do record,
It was there that Noah's Ark did rest after that awful flood.
For , mountains they are sacred, Jesus often resorted there.
To be all alone in solitude and spend the night in prayer.
I think I hear his sacred voice while being there alone,
I hear gentle winds will fan his brow upon that mountain home,
And angels will from glory come, all beautiful and fair
While Jesus kneels on the mountain top, lifts up his voice in prayer.
It was on a mountain where Moses wrote the ten Commandments,
And talked with God our father as man should talk to man.
While Moses stood and did converse with God on holy ground.
The light of God the father in glory shone all around.
When Moses left the sacred spot, no longer to remain
Had wrote the ten commandments, as the scriptures teach the same,
We see those towering mountains, they hold a sacred name,
For it was from a mountain plain, the Prophet Elijah came.
106

We hold these mountains sacred that tower up so high
They prove the mighty works of God. beneath the bright blue sky,
When Christ was transfigarated before Peter, James and John,
And on the scenes there did appear two witnesss of God.
Moses and Elias stood on that sacred mountain peak
And being overshadowed with a cloud, God was heard to speak,
This is my beloved son, hear him the voice did say,
Then Moses and Elias from the mountain passed away.
N
NAME
A NAME AND PLACE.
Hast thou a place — Oh Father! for my name?
107

A name to live forever! I have tried,
The pomp of wealth, the panoply of fame;
And Father! lo thy child has been denied
A place within them; hast thou a place for me
A place of endless fame? Lest my cry
Come up oh Father! unto thee
Give me a name — a name that cannot die.
Make to thyself a name, my child,
Make to thyself a name;
But make it not in glittering gold,
Nor yet in earthly fame;
These to the fleeting earth belong.
These bare the thorns of strife —
Make to thyself a name to stand
In the Lamb's Book of Life.
Author unknown.
Just one note, a flash, sets souls aflame;
Lightening, brightening, at His glorious Name.
He is Son, and God, and God The Son;
Heart of God, without comparison.
108

Who is life's amazing miracle?
Who is hope's eternal pinnacle?
Christ, the Lord.
NATURE'S GOD.
Spring has gone and summer is here,
The sun shines bright, the sky is clear;
Grass and flowers spring from the sod,
This proves the works of Nature's God.
The fields today are clothed in green,
And fruits of various kinds are seen;
And all the flowers comes from the sod,
This proves the work of Nature's god.
Look at the mountain towering high,
Beneath the sun and bright blue sky;
Wild flowers spring up from the sod.
And bows their heads to Nature's God.
109

Look at the trees on forest stands,
That covers over this beautiful land;
And every bough and leaf will nod.
In reverence to our Nature's god.
Look at the springs from mountains flow.
The crystal waters onward go;
Refresh the grass, flowers and sod.
All working by the hand of God.
Look at that man with powerful brain,
Who strives for fortune and for fame;
Must leave it all here on the sod.
And take his flight to Nature's God.
NEW YEAR
MRS AGNES SMITH
Another year will soon be o'er,
O may the new one be,
A year of greater service Lord
110

With hearts from sin set free.
We do not know the day or hour
That He may call each one
To lay our weary bodies down
And rest within the tomb.
But when we hear the glad triumph
If we are faithful here,
We'll rise to immortality,
And meet Him without fear.
So a glad New Year to one and all
And, if we many see,
May every one be greater love
And service, Lord, to Thee.
O
OLD TIMES
111

Wert thou, then, a young rebellant wife;
Lightning quick at loving, Lightning quick at strife,
Gifted, proud, repellant, radiant wife?
Did thy youth excise thy mighty Lord;
Petulantly turning From His Word;
Treating with defiance thy great Lord?
Who can be as merciless as youth;
Who can reap such bitter, bitter ruth!
Tears? Ah, sad has been thy roaming;
Heaven on earth will be thy homing.
P
PALESTINE
That that small land Shall burst the band Of sin.
Let faithless jeer it!
Instead of thorn, Messiah's morn
Shall see the fir and flower;
And latter rains
112

Shall drench the plains,
And fruit shall sing God's power.
There is a land, A little land
Where One walked in His sorrow;
But every song Of earth's great throng,
Shall hail Him King to-morrow.
PALESTINE
There is a land, A little land If meted by man's measure;
Where thorn and rust And desert dust Comprise its troven treasure.
But of that land, That little land, The Lord of hosts hath spoken;
He hath esteemed For His redeemed This country His own token.
In that great age To come, God's sage Declareth by the Spirit.
PAUL
" I desire to be dissolved and to be with Christ." — Phil.
1. 23. SISTER M. GENEVIEVE TODD,
Not yet — but soon, my soul ;
113

Bear thou a while the weary lot of all,
And in thine earthly prison silent wait
The Bridegroom's tender call.
My eager soul, " be still."
Bide thou His time nor yet so ardent sigh,
Nor beat like prisoned bird the dreary bars,
That shut thee from the sky.
More sweet to creep the earth
If there God's purpose lieth, than to shine
A saint in glory, burning at His feet
Enrapt in love divine.
Rest, rest within His hand
Those heights of joy where now thou long'st to be,—
Those depths of mystic love, thou'lt know and feel
When His sweet smile thou'lt see.
Swan-like, when comes the hour,
Shall break thy song and rise on heavenward wing,—
Love's perfect song that oft thy wistful lips
Have tried, but ne'er could sing.
114

Then rest, O soul of mine,
And in thy dreams, — forget thine earthly home —
Lean on His breast until His loving voice
Bids thee " arise and come."
PEACE, BE STILL
" And He arose and rebuked the wind and said to the
sea, ' Peace, be still,' and immediately there was a great
calm." — St. Matt. iv. 29.
Peace, peace, my heart, be still!
Within thy bark the Master lies ;
What matter then if o'er thy skies
So angrily the storm-clouds rise ?
It is His will
Be still, be still !
Peace, peace, my, heart be still !
What evil e'er should thee appall,
When close to Him the Lord of all ?
115

He speaks, and lo ! the billows fall.
And do His will
Be still, be still!
Peace, peace, my heart, be still,
The Master sleeps and thy low prayer
Seems lost upon the cruel air,
But all thy fears He knows while there.
It is His will
Be still, be still!
Peace, peace, my heart, be still!
Beyond the mists that veil thine eyes
A happy, peaceful harbor lies
Where grief shall be no more, nor sighs
Nor aught of ill ;
Be still, be still !
Peace, peace, be still, be still!
116

Let naught afifright thee, O my soul.
Heed not the clouds that dark'ning roll.
But leaving all to His control
His blessed will
With joy fulfill.
O heart of mine, be still, be still.
PETERS DELIVERANCE.
ANGELS VISITS IN THE NIGHT
Arise up quickly and follow me,
Was the voice of an angel, to Peter did say,
For Peter was sleeping on the stone floor,
The Lord sent his angel to open the door.
It is said that the Soldiers both in deep sleep,
And Peter between them with chains on his feet,
The Angel of the Lord to this dark prison came.
For there in the dungeon not long to remain.
A light flashed in the prison as bright as noonday,
And the voice of the Angel spoke out in this way,
Arise up Peter, there is no time for to stay,
The prison door is open, and you must go away.
117

When Peter arose the light dazzled his eyes.
Behold an Angel from heaven, which was a surprise,
He thought this a dream, or a vision did see,
But the voice of the Angel says now follow me.
The Angel moved forward to the bolted, closed doors,
They swung open as natural as ever before
Then Peter kept watching this beautiful sight,
This was an Angel from Heaven with power and light.
When Peter at last from the prison set free,
An Angel came down this poor mortal to see,
Then went to the soldiers who was asleep on the floor,
Never waked or disturbed them, but opened the door,
The Angel departed, or vanished away
For the scriptures teach us, that those who do right.
For Angels will watch over them by day and by night,
As Peter was true to the master we see,
God sent his Angel ,from prison to set him free.
Now all who will trust him and believe just the same
Confess to the Savior and trust in his name,
118

When trials and affliction your suffering will end,
The Angel of mercy will prove a true friend.
When Peter was sleeping on that hard stone floor,
The Angel of mercy just opened the door,
Came just at the time when his life was near the end,
Proved a faithful coworker, which God only sends-
PETERS DENIAL. by ROXIE M. BARRETT,
When Peter did his Lord deny,
And to the maid said: "T'was not l"
And recklessly did curse and swear.
To all that in his presence were.
That he knew not his Lord.
How wretched his backslidden state,
How near the opening ruins gate
He stood; unconscious of his awful state,
Denying still his Lord.
Another says: "It seems to me,
119

This man must be from Gallilee" —
But Peter turned, denied his Lord, —
Just then the warning voice was heard,
"Thou shalt deny me thrice."
Then turning round he chanced to see,
A face of loveliest purity ;
And oh that piteous withering look,
He stood, he trembled, then betook,
Himself apart to pray.
He knelt, he wept, his grief was wild,
Oh Lord ! forgive thine erring chdd,
Blot out my sins of deepest dye.
Blot out my sad iniquity,
And make me pure for aye.
Well might he weep, well might he pray,
That look — as man 'twas sympathy,
As God he looks— conviction's arrow flies,
And Peter yields, and humbly cries,
Lord save me or I die.
'Twas very God 'twas very man.
120

Both blended in salvations plan ;—
He looked, he would not call his name,
For fear of bringing censure, blame,
On that backslidden soul.
That look upon the tablet of his heart,
Was graven deep, 'twould not depart
Until he meets his risen Lord,
Then oh! what joy His smile affords;
And everlasting love.
Though Peter's sins the darkest were,
He heard his cry, He answered prayer,
And now his happy spirit vies
With the redeemed above the skies,
With all the sanctified.
May we .ill meet our pastor there,
And each a crown of glory wear,
with all the loved, who're gone before,
And millions, millions, millions more,
Who are waiting to go home.
121

POETRY
Who is poetry, God — vivified?
Christ, the Lord.
Who is music, throne-swept, glorified?
Christ, the Lord.
Who is color, line, expression.
Action, breathing God's confession
Of a beauty, God loved, God taught?
Christ, the Lord.
Where men have a glint or tone caught.
Heard a strain, or one divine thought,
They have risen, soul caught, captured.
Running forth with hearts enraptured.
To hear more, to see, to know Him
Who is Loveliness,
Elohim; Star and symphony and splendor
Of God's mind, of God, the Sender.
No one follows Christ from lack of duty;
Everyone from glimpse of God's Own beauty.
PRAISE
LET ME BUT PRAISE THEE
122

Let me but praise Thee for Thy myriad thoughts of me.
I ventured to write down Thy gifts, each one by name;
And as the record grew, no ending could I see.
For still more helps and aids and tender joys became
My inventoried roll of benefits from Thee.
Still more, still more, my list continuing the same;
A book of benefactions . . Thine to me.
1 threw away my futile pen in very shame
That I could not inscribe Thine active love for me
With feeble stylus. Lord, I need a flame.
That burneth through Thine own eternity.
That I may seize, and write in living fire, my claim
To benisons untold, across the arching sky.
Thy newer heaven and Thy newer earth must frame
The flashing scroll of Thy supernal gifts to me.
PRAYER
WHAT IS PRAYER?
PRAYER is the soul's sincere desire,
Unuttered or expressed ;
The motion of a hidden fire
That trembles in the breast.
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Prayer is the burden of a sigh,
The falling of a tear,
The upward glancing of an eye,
When none but God is near.
Prayer is the simplest form of speech
That infant lips can try ;
Prayer the sublimest strains that reach
The majesty on high.
Prayer is the contrite sinner's voice,
Returning from his ways ;
While angels in their songs rejoice,
And cry — " Behold he prays "
Prayer is the Christian's vital breath,
The Christian's native air :
His watchword at the gates of death —
He enters heaven with prayer.
The saints in prayer appear as one
In word, and deed, and mind,
While with the Father and the So
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Sweet fellowship they find.
Nor prayer is made by man alone
The Holy Spirit pleads
And Jesus, on the eternal throne
For sinners intercedes.
O Thou, by whom we come to God —
The Life, the Truth, the Way ;
The path of prayer Thyself hast trod ;
Lord ! teach us how to pray.
James Montgomery,
prayer
GRACIOUS Spirit, Love divine
Let Thy light within me shine ;
All my guilty fears remove,
Fill me full of heaven and love.
Speak Thy pardoning grace to me,
Set the burdened sinner free ;
Lead me to the Lamb of God,
Wash me in His precious blood.
125

Life and peace to me impart,
Seal salvation on my heart ;
Breathe Thyself into my breast, —
Earnest of immortal rest.
Let me never from Thee stray.
Keep me in the narrow way ;
Fill my soul with love divine,
Keep me, Lord, forever Thine.
— Stacker,
PRAYER
Thou art my Father and my God,
To thee I will bend my knee;
Forgive the past, Almighty God,
And draw me nigh to thee.
Hear my prayer, Almighty God,
And fill my heart with love;
Cleanse my heart of every sin,
To live in heaven above.
Thou art the true and living God,
126

Who holds the keys, of death ;
Give us a heart to pray to thee,
And pray with every breath.
0, Lord, when death shall come along.
To bring us to the grave,
Grant that our hearts be filled with-love.
In heaven our souls be saved.
PROPHECY
HIS FEET SHALL STAND IN THAT DAY UPON THE MOUNT OF OLIVES"
(Zechariah 14:4)
Thou beautiful eastern princess,
Who walkest through every land.
With head bent low at thine ingress,
But raised at the touch of a hand
(A friendly, considerate, hand) ;
A miracle, thou, to the seeing;
God's power in Thee is inwrought;
Thy strength and thy separate being
Reveal His o'ershadowing thought;
His loving, omnipotent, thought.
A prophecy, thou, to the kneeling
127

Who look for their Saviour's return.
BY HARRIET SKINNER McROBERTS
PROPHECY
THE HOLY CITY
Jerusalem, Jerusalem, We know thy glorious past;
We know thy fateful present In a dusk that shall not last;
We know thy radiant future, When God's dial marks the hour;
And thou shalt be the regnant queen, The city of His power.
Jerusalem, Jerusalem, The marts of every land
Shall pour their wares into thy stores. And art shall seek thy hand.
Grave science and sweet laughter Shall cross seas to walk thy streets;
The nations shall go forth to thee, And all the nations' fleets.
Jerusalem, Jerusalem, The time in on the way
When queen of cities thou shalt reign. And all the earth shall say:
"O, come, let us go unto her, Our fond allegiance tell;
Messiah hath come back to rule, The King of Israel."
"THE REDEEMER SHALL COME TO ZION"
We two should fall upon our knees in rapture, souls elate,
Aware that when we dared look up to brilliance, con- summate,
We should behold a Person in the midst of God's estate.
And soon God's grace would bid us look, and, kneeling side by side.
128

Our gaze should greet Messiah, King, Redeemer, glorified ;
His face with Jewish lineaments, and pierced hands and side.
THE REDEEMER SHALL COME TO ZION"
(Isaiah 59 : 20)
If one great day, O princess, there should burst across the sky
From east to west that flaming light which you ex- pect, and 1,
(For we have read the Oracles of God Who cannot lie;)
And swiftly all the firmament should lift aside her blue,
And host on host of shining figures sweep into our view,
A coming company, resplendent, and ineffable of hue;
(If I were there, who should not be,
For otherwhere shall Christian be;)
Q
R
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RAPTURE
THE ANGEL BAND.
MRS AGNES SMITH
And when we see the angel band
Descending from on high
And our dear Lord upon the clouds
As King, He will draw nigh.
No more the Babe of Bethlehem, He
As in a manger lay.
To rest and sleep on Mary's arm
Where oxen ate their hay.
No more the man of Galilee,
As with weary steps He trod,
To heal the sick of pain and woe
And teach the word of God.
No more at Lazarus' grave He'll stand
But with triumphant shout,
He'll wake all those, who loved Him here,
And served Him without doubt.
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No more with five small wheaten loaves,
The faint and weary feed,
As with compassion He did then,
To help their daily need.
But when we go with Him on high,
A table will be there,
And we shall be His guests that day,
And all His glory share.
So let us work till Jesus comes,
And love Him more and more,
And we shall rest upon His breast,
With all our troubles o'er.
s
SABBATH SCHOOL
I love my blessed Jesus
I love his golden rules
And always sing his praise^
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When in the sabbath school.
I love the little children
For Jesus first loved them,
I love to talk about Him
How His goodness will extend.
I love to talk of heaven
Of that happy home on high,
And how our blessed Jesus
Came down on earth to die.
I love to see the children
Come out to sabbath school,
Here sing and pray to Jesus
And obey his golden rule.
I love my blessed Jesus
His love to all extend,
All you who will obey Him
Will be happy in the end.
For Jesus often tells us
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If we His laws obey,
Will forgive us of our sins
And wash them all away.
Tells us to love each other
At home or in the school,
And always love our parents
And obey the golden rule.
And when our life is ended
Free from earth for ever more,
I hope to meet you all in heaven
On that beautiful bright shore.
SALVATION
WEARY of earth and laden with my sin,
I look at heaven and long to enter in ;
But there no evil thing may find a home,
And yet I hear a voice that bids me, "Come."
133

So vile I am, how dare I hope to ntand
In the pure glory of that holy land ?
Before the whiteness of that Throne appear ?
Yet there are Hands stretched out to draw me near.
The while I fain would tread the heavenly way,
Evil is ever with me day by day ;
Yet on mine ears the gracious tidings fall,
"Repent, confess, thou shalt be loosed from all.'*
It is the voice of Jesus that I hear,
His are the Hands stretched out to draw me near.
And His the Blood that can for all atone,
And set me faultless there before the Throne.
'Twas He who found me on the deathly wild.
And made me heir of heaven, the Father's child.
And day by day, whereby my soul may live.
Gives me His Grace of pardon, and will give.
O great Absolver, grant my soul may wear
The lowliest garb of penitence and prayer,
That in the Father's courts my glorious dress
May be the garment of Thy righteousness.
134

Yea, Thou wilt answer for me, Righteous Lord ;
Thine all the merits, mine the great reward ;
Thine the sharp thorns, and mine the golden crown ;
Mine the life won, and Thine the life laid down.
Nought can I bring, dear Lord, for all I owe,
Yet let my full heart what it can bestow ;
Like Mary's gift let my devotion prove,
Forgiven greatly, how I greatly love.
— Unidentified,
salvation
THE TROUBADOUR
I sing thy folk that followed and believed;
I sing thy virgin who God's Son conceived;
1 sing thy shepherds on their knees;
Thy rich young ruler, seeking life and light,
Receiving vastest truth at quiet night;
Thy women with their ministries.
But, last and first, I sing of Him Who died.
Who gave Himself to be the Crucified.
Behold the offered Lamb of God!
135

His blood atoneth for thy sins and mine,
His blood atoneth for my sins and thine.
If we but sprinkle it upon the posts
Of our poor hearts, and join the ransomed hosts.
SEASONS
How fast the time is passing off,
This year will soon be gone;
The summer is now near nigh spent,
And autumn days are coming on.
Then the leaves begin to fall,
On earth will soon decay;
And the fruits will all be ripe.
Bright autumns golden days.
Then after fall the winter comes,
Cold chilly winds will blow;
And often peirce our tender frames.
With cold rain, sleet and snow.
136

Then winter will soon pass away,
When spring-time is drawing near;
The birds will sing their sweetest note.
And make music to our ear.
The trees again put on their leaves,
Just wonderful to behold;
The roses all will come again,
Their beauties to unfold.
The birds will fly from tree to tree,
Their sweetest notes will sing;
And every heart will beat for joy,
In the coming days of spring.
Then the earth will reproduce,
A carpet soft and green;
Will come forth since the winter days,
To welcome the coming spring..
Dark winter clouds have passed away,
The sun warms up the earth;
And all the flowers are in full bloom
137

For Nature gives them birth.
THE SECOND COMING
MRS AGNES SMITH
Are we a people waiting
Do we believe the testimony
Which is the two-edged sword?
Do we believe the Holy word,
And live it day by day?
Do we let the faith of Jesus
In our hearts have full sway?
Or are we like Thy people, Lord,
That wandered far of old
And turned their hearts away from Thee
And sought a God of Gold?
No, no, kind Heavenly Father,
We will closer draw to Thee,
Let every one within Thy fold
In love united be.
138

You know, dear Heavenly Father,
The sacrifice is great.
But Thou hast often told us
The way to Thee is straight.
So we'll all be one like Daniel,
And stand before our King,
With hearts in love united,
Our voices raised to sing.
The song of Moses and the Lamb,
Uoon the crystal sea,
We'll reign with Thee, dear Saviour
Through all eternity.
SHAKE THYSELF
"SHAKE THYSELF FROM THE DUST" (Isaiah 52 : 2)
Call thy young men and thine ancients,
Summon thy poets and seers,
Bid them to rouse from the torpor
That muffles their souls through the years.
Thy poets, enkindled at Horeb,
139

Chirp loudly of western delights,
Make cause with the sins of the nations.
And prate of "New Canaan" and " Rights."
O, Israel, bid them relinquish
These blasphemous, alien wrongs.
And fall on their knees to Jehovah,
And praise Him with fire cleansed songs.
"SHAKE THYSELF FROM THE DUST"
Thy seers have grown modern and prattling;
Their counsel is shaded and thin;
Their hearts are obese, and their tattling
Is mainly of larder and bin.
Cry out to them, Daughter of Zion,
To seize off their shoes where they stand;
The earth and the sun and Orion
Proclaim God in every land.
But the Flame and the Voice in the mountain
Tell Israel God's oath will stand.
Call quickly thy singers and masters,
And bid them repent and repent;
The God of thy pain and disasters
Is also thy God of content.
The Mercy-seat waiteth thy kneeling,
The Presence hath mercy at hand;
140

Prepare with thy tears His revealing;
He promised thee. Who shall withstand!
In HIS HANDIWORK Dark stranger, sweet, beguiling.
Thy youth defies the years.
God made thy lips for smiling;
He made thine eyes for tears.
SHEPARD
My heart hath such a joyful song to sing
About my Shepherd's shepherding;
When He doth put His Own sheep forth, and where.
My Lord, Himself, doth go before them, there.
No hireling He, but Owner of His Own,
Who leadefh them the way He found alone.
O who is this adown my path of joy,
Half seen, half lost, where leafy trees deploy?
A glimpse 1 catch of shepherd's cloak and flowers;
And gladness overflows and floods my hours.
O who is this, ahead, my day of pain.
One step before, with footprints for my feet,
A mighty Figure, looming in the rain?
"One step," He speaks me; and my heart is meet
141

To follow through all worlds, at His command.
That Voice, that staff, that upraised pierced hand.
A SONG OF REJOICING.
MRS AGNES SMITH
The long night of sorrow will vanish
Then nothing but pleasure, no pain,
For Jesus is coming in glory,
He's coming to take us to reign.
With Him, up in yonder bright mansions.
We'll bow then and bless His dear name,
And join with the angels in glory,
Praise God for the lamb that was slain.
He carried our sins in His body,
They took Him to Calvary's cross,
He went there without a murmur,
For He never counted the cost.
So when trials and sorrow o'ertake us
142

He has promised our burdens to share,
Take courage, my brother, take courage,
Press onward to do and to dare.
SLEEP
THE SLEEP OF THE BELOVED.
" So He giveth his beloved sleep." Ps. cxxvii. 2.
SUNLIGHT has vanished, and the weary earth
Lies resting from a long day's toil and pain,
And, looking for a new dawn's early births
Seeks strength in slumber for its toil again.
We too would rest ; but ere we close the eye
Upon the consciousness of waking thought.
Would calmly turn it to yon star-bright sky,
And lift the soul to Him who slumbers not.
Above us is thy hand with tender care.
Distilling over us the dew of sleep :
Darkness seems loaded with oblivious air.
143

In deep forgetfulness each sense to steep.
Thou hast provided midnight's hour of peace.
Thou stretchest over us the wing of rest ;
With more than all a parent's tenderness,
Foldest us sleeping to thy gentle breast.
Grief flies away ; care quits our easy couch,
Till wakened by thy hand, when breaks the day —
Like the lone prophet by the angel' s touch, —
We rise to tread again our pilgrim-way.
God of our life 1 God of each day and night !
Oh, keep us still till life's short race is run !
Until there dawns the long, long day of light.
That knows no night, yet needs no star nor sun.
— Horatius Bonar,
THE SLEEP.
He giveth His beloved sleep. Ps. cxxvii. 2.
IF all the thoughts of God that are LEEP
144

Borne inward unto souls afar,
Along the Psalmist* s music deep.
Now tell me if that any is,
For gift or grace, surpassing this —
* He giveth His beloved, sleep? *
What would we give to our beloved ?
The hero*s heart, to be unmoved.
The poet's star-tuned harp, to sweep,
The patriot's voice, to teach and rouse,
The monarch's crown, to light the brows? —
' He giveth His beloved, sleep.'
What do we give to our beloved ?
A little faith all undisproved,
A little dust to overweep.
And bitter memories to make
The whole earth blasted for our sake
' Sleep soft, beloved ! ' we sometimes say
But have no tune to charm away
Sad dreams that through the eyelids creep.
145

But never doleful dream again
Shall break the happy slumber when
O earth, so full of dreary noises !
O men, with wailing in your voices !
O delvdd gold, the wailers heap !
strife, O curse, that o'er it fall !
God strikes a silence through you all,
And *giveth His beloved, sleep.'
His dews drop mutely on the hill.
His cloud above it saileth still,
Though on its slope men sow and reap.
More softly than the dew is shed,
Or clouds is floated overhead,
He giveth His beloved, sleepy
Aye, men may wonder while they scan
A living, thinking, feeling man.
Confirmed in such a rest to keep ;
But angels say, and through the word
I think their happy smile is heard—
146

' He giveth His beloved, sleep ! '
For me, my heart that erst did go
Most like a tired child at a show,
That sees through tears the mummers leap.
Would now its wearied vision close,
Would child-like on His love repose.
Who 'giveth His beloved, sleep ! '
And friends, dear friends, — when it shall be
That this low breath is gone from me.
And round my bier ye come to weep,
Let one, most loving of you all.
Say, * Not a tear must o'er her fall —
He giveth His beloved, sleep. '
— E, B Browning.
T
THE TROUBADOUR
I sing in praise of thine old matchless souls;
147

That giver of God's Law, whose breath extolls
The majesty of God, His might;
That deathless prophet, cleansed with altar fire;
Those three at Gentile courts who might expire,
But praised God truly, day and night.
1 sing thy later God-taught, God-swept souls.
Who shall reign with the Son until earth rolls
Her cloak, and share His kingly part:
That Tarsus bigot, versed and erudite.
Who stoned a praying few with furied might.
Until a Voice rang through his heart.
I sing thy fisherman at Pentecost,
Who spake out greater truths and greater cost;
And also one beloved by Him,
Who saw on Patmos God's eternal plan:
The things that were, that are, that shall be, unto man;
Beloved of Him, beloved of Him.
BY HARRIET SKINNER McROBERTS
THE TROUBADOUR
Israel, I sing to thee in love;
Israel, I sing to thee of love;
And always, only, of thy Lover.
To thy low wide-flung casement I have come.
And seem to read consent in that bowed head.
148

To twang and pipe in tender oldenwise,
At twilight. Hear me then, while evening skies
Draw cooling veils across the clover.
Long time, the world hath cried to thee thy sins;
But who am 1, and who is he that wins
A judge's office over thee?
Thy sins are grievous, black, from hardened heart;
My sins are grievous, black from hardened heart;
Our God is Judge; He shall decree.
U
UPSTREAM
Upstream, my soul, upstream!
Bend to the oar your might.
Pull. Use your strength. Be a man.
Strong runs the current tonight.
Drifting were easy delight,
Floating across the moon's beam;
149

(Music and friends and the night) ;
But drifting is always downstream.
Upstream, my soul, upstream!
Pull with Herculean force.
Look to the goal and the gleam:
God waits for you at the source.
V
VICTORY
SERVANT of God, well done,
Rest from thy loved employ ;
The battle fought, the vict'ry won,
Enter thy Master's joy."
The voice at midnight came,
He started up to hear ;
A mortal arrow pierced his frame.
He fell — but felt no fear.
150

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