Chapter VII

Cleave close, dear Guide, and lead me!
I cannot go aright!
Through all that doth beset me,
Keep, keep me close in sight!
'Tis but a little longer;
Methinks the end I see:
Oh! matchless love and mercy,
The Bridegroom waits for me;
Waits, to present me faultless,
Before His Father's throne;
His comeliness my beauty,
His righteousness my own.

--_Unidentified._

"It may be in the evening,
When the work of the day is done,
And you have time to sit in the twilight
And watch the sinking sun,
While the long bright day dies slowly
Over the sea,
And the hour grows quiet and holy
With thoughts of Me,
While you hear the village children
Passing along the street
Among those thronging footsteps
May come the sound of My Feet:
Therefore I tell you, Watch!
By the light of the evening star,
When the room is growing dusky
As the clouds afar;
Let the door be on the latch
In your home,
For it may be through the gloaming
I will come.

"It may be when the midnight
Is heavy upon the land,
And the black waves lying humbly
Along the sand;
When the moonless night draws close,
And the lights are out in the house;
When the fires burn low and red,
And the watch is ticking loudly
Beside the bed:
Though you sleep, tired out on your couch,
Still your heart must wake and watch
In the dark room,
For it may be that at midnight
I will come.

"It may be at the cock-crow,
When the night is dying slowly
In the sky,
And the sea looks calm and holy,
Waiting for the dawn of the golden sun
Which draweth nigh;
When the mists are on the valleys, shading
The rivers chill,
And my morning star is fading, fading
Over the hill:
Behold, I say unto you, Watch!
Let the door be on the latch:
In your home:
In the chill before the dawning,
Between the night and morning
I may come.

"It may be in the morning,
When the sun is bright and strong,
And the dew is glittering sharply
Over the little lawn;
When the waves are laughing loudly
Along the shore,
And the little birds are singing sweetly
About the door.
With the long day's work before you,
You rise up with the sun,
And the neighbors come in to talk a little,
Of all that must be done;
But remember that I may be the next
To come in at the door,
To call you from all your busy work
For evermore:
As you work your heart must watch,
For the door is on the latch
In your room,
And it may be in the morning
I will come."

So He passed down my cottage garden,
By the path that leads to the sea,
Till he came to the turn of the little road,
Where the birch and laburnum tree
Lean over and arch the way.
There I saw him a moment stay,
And turn once more to me,
As I wept at the cottage door,
And lift up His hands in blessing--
Then I saw His face no more.
And I stood still in the door-way
Leaning against the wall,
Not heeding the fair white roses,
Though I crushed them, and let them fall,
Only looking down the pathway,
And looking towards the sea,
And wondering, and wondering
When He would come back for me,
Till I was aware of an angel
Who was going swiftly by,
With the gladness of one who goeth
In the light of God most high
He passed the end of the cottage
Towards the garden gate,--
(I suppose He was come down
At the setting of the sun,
To comfort some one in the village
Whose dwelling was desolate,)
And He passed before the door
Beside my place,
And the likeness of a smile
Was on His face:--
"Weep not," He said, "for unto you is given,
To watch for the coming of His feet,
Who is the glory of our blessed Heaven:
The work and watching will be very sweet
Even in an earthly home,
And in such an hour as ye think not
He will come."
So I am watching quietly
Every day;
Whenever the sun shines brightly
I rise and say,--
Surely it is the shining of His face!
And look unto the gates of His high place,
Beyond the sea,
For I know He is coming shortly
To summon me.
And when a shadow falls across the window
Of my room,
Where I am working my appointed task,
I lift my head to watch the door, and ask
If He is come;
And the angel answers sweetly
In my home,--
"Only a few more shadows,
And He will come."

--_Unidentified_.

THE JOY OF ASSURANCE.

It is too calm to be a dream,
Too gravely sweet, too full of power,
Prayer changed to praise this very hour!
Yes, heard and answered! though it seem
Beyond the hope of yesterday,
Beyond the faith that dared to pray,
Yet not beyond the love that heard,
And not beyond the faithful word
On which each trembling prayer may rest,
And win the answer truly best.

Yes, heard and answered! sought and found!
I breathe a golden atmosphere
Of solemn joy, and seem to hear
Within, above, and all around,
The chime of deep cathedral bells,
An early herald peal that tells
A glorious Easter tide begun;
While yet are sparkling in the sun
Large rain drops of the night storm passed,
And days of Lent are gone at last.

--_Frances Ridley Havergal_.

"HOW WONDERFUL!"

He answered all my prayer abundantly,
And crowned the work that to _His_ feet I brought,
With blessing more than I had asked or thought--
A blessing undisguised, and fair, and free.

I stood amazed, and whispered, "Can it be
That He hath granted all the boon I sought?
How wonderful that He for me hath wrought!
How wonderful that He hath answered me!"

O faithless heart! He _said_ that He would hear
And answer thy poor prayer, and He _hath_ heard
And proved His promise. Wherefore didst thou fear?
Why marvel that thy Lord hath kept His word?
More wonderful if He should fail to bless
Expectant faith and prayer with good success!

--_Frances Ridley Havergal._

THY WAY, NOT MINE.

Thy way, not mine, O Lord,
However dark it be!
Lead me by Thine own hand,
Choose out the path for me.

Smooth let it be or rough,
It will be still the best,
Winding or straight, it matters not,
It leads me to Thy rest.

I dare not choose my lot:
I would not, if I might;
Choose Thou for me, my God,
So shall I walk aright.

The kingdom that I seek
Is Thine: so let the way
That leads to it be Thine,
Else I must surely stray.

Take Thou my cup, and it
With joy or sorrow fill,
As best to Thee may seem;
Choose Thou my good and ill.

Choose Thou for me my friends,
My sickness or my health,
Choose Thou my cares for me,
My poverty or wealth.

Not mine, not mine the choice,
In things or great or small;
Be Thou my guide, my strength,
My wisdom, and my all.

--_Horatius Bonar_.

A CHILD'S FIRST IMPRESSION OF A STAR.

She had been told that God made all the stars,
That twinkled up in heaven, and now she stood
Watching the coming of the twilight on,
As if it were a new and perfect world,
And this were its first eve. She stood alone
By the low window, with the silken lash
Of her soft eye upraised, and her sweet mouth
Half parted with the new and strange delight
Of beauty that she could not comprehend,
And had not seen before. The purple folds
Of the low sunset clouds, and the blue sky
That look'd so still and delicate above,
Fill'd her young heart with gladness, and the eve
Stole on with its deep shadows, and she still
Stood looking at the west with that half smile,
As if a pleasant thought were at her heart.
Presently, in the edge of the last tint
Of sunset, where the blue was melted in
To the faint golden mellowness, a star
Stood suddenly. A laugh of wild delight
Burst from her lips, and putting up her hands,
Her simple thought broke forth expressively--
"Father! dear father! God has made a star!"

--_N. P. Willis._

"COME UNTO ME!"

Art thou weary? Art thou languid?
Art thou sore distrest?
"Come to Me," saith One, "and coming,
Be at rest!"

Hath He marks to lead me to Him,
If He be my Guide?
"In His feet and hands are wound-prints,
And His side."

Is there diadem as monarch
That His brow adorns?
"Yea, a crown in very surety,
But of thorns!"

If I find Him, if I follow,
What his guerdon here?
"Many a sorrow, many a labor,
Many a tear."

If I still hold closely to Him,
What hath He at last?
"Sorrow vanquished, labor ended,
Jordan past!"

If I ask Him to receive me,
Will He say me nay?
"Not till earth and not till Heaven
Pass away!"

Finding, following, keeping, struggling,
Is He sure to bless?
"Angels, martyrs, prophets, pilgrims,
Answer--Yes!"

--_From St. Stephen the Sabaite._

"LOOKING UNTO JESUS."

Thou, Lord, my path shalt choose,
And my Guide be!
What shall I fear to lose
While I have Thee?
This be my portion blest,
On my Redeemer's breast,
In peaceful trust to rest:
He cares for me!

Shall I then, choose my way?
Never, oh, no!
I, a creature of a day,
What can I know?
What dread perplexity,
Then would encompass me;
Now I can look to Thee,
Thou orderest so!

This lightens every cross,
Cheers every ill;
Suffer I grief or loss,
It is Thy will!
Who can make no mistake,
Chooseth the way I take,
He who can ne'er forsake,
Holds my hand still!

Sweet words of peace and love
Christ whispers me!
Bearing my soul above
Life's troubled sea!
This be my portion blest,
On my Redeemer's breast,
In peaceful trust to rest:
He cares for me!

Christ died my love to win,
Christ is my tower!
He will be with me in
Each trying hour!
He makes the wounded whole,
He will my heart console,
He will uphold my soul
By His own power!

To Thee, the only, Wise,
Whatever be,
I will lift up mine eyes
Joyful in Thee!
This be my portion blest,
On my Redeemer's breast
In peaceful trust to rest:
He cares for me!

--_From the German._

EVENING HYMN.

The shadows of the evening hours
Fall from the darkening sky;
Upon the fragrance of the flowers
The dews of evening lie;
Before Thy throne, O Lord of Heaven,
We kneel at close of day;
Look on Thy children from on high,
And hear us while we pray.

The sorrows of Thy servants, Lord,
O do not Thou despise;
But let the incense of our prayers
Before Thy mercy rise;
The brightness of the coming night
Upon the darkness rolls:
With hopes of future glory chase
The shadows on our souls.

Slowly the rays of daylight fade;
So fade within our heart
The hopes in earthly love and joy,
That one by one depart:
Slowly the bright stars, one by one,
Within the heavens shine;--
Give us, O Lord, fresh hopes in Heaven,
And trust in things divine.

Let peace, O Lord, Thy peace, O God,
Upon our souls descend
From midnight fears and perils, thou
Our trembling hearts defend;
Give us a respite from our toil,
Calm and subdue our woes;
Through the long day we suffer, Lord,
O give us now repose!

--_Adelaide Procter._

ARE ALL THE CHILDREN IN?

The darkness falls; the wind is high;
Dense, black clouds fill the western sky;
The storm will soon begin;
The thunders roar, the lightnings flash,
I hear the great round rain-drops dash,
Are all the children in?

They're coming softly to my side,
Their forms within my arms I hide,
No other arms are sure:
The storm may rage with fury wild,
With trusting faith each little child
With mother feels secure.

But future days are drawing near;
They'll go from this warm shelter here
Out in the world's wild din.
The rains will fall, the cold winds blow,
I'll sit alone and long to know
Are all the children in.

Will they have shelter then secure,
Where hearts are waiting strong and sure,
And love is true when tried?
Or will they find a broken reed,
When strength of heart they so much need
To help them brave the tide?

God knows it all; His will is best;
I'll shield them now and yield the rest
To His most righteous hand:
Sometimes the souls He loves are riven
By tempests wild, and thus are driven
Nearer the better land.

If He should call me home before
The children go, on that bless'd shore
Afar from care and sin,
I know that I shall watch and wait
Till He, the keeper of the gate,
Lets all the children in.

--_Unidentified._

HE LEADS US ON.

He leads us on,
By paths we did not know
Upward He leads us, though our steps be slow,
Though oft we faint and falter on the way,
Though storms and darkness oft obscure the day,
Yet when the clouds are gone
We know He leads us on.

He leads us on
Through all the unquiet years;
Past all our dreamland hopes, and doubts, and fears
He guides our steps. Through all the tangled maze
Of sin, of sorrow, and o'erclouded days
We know His will is done;
And still He leads us on.

And He, at last,
After the weary strife--
After the restless fever we call life--
After the dreariness, the aching pain,
The wayward struggles which have proved in vain,
After our toils are past--
Will give us rest at last.

--_Unidentified._

NOTHING BUT LEAVES.

Nothing but leaves: the spirit grieves
Over a wasted life.
Sins committed while conscience slept;
Promises made, but never kept;
Hatred, battle, and strife--
Nothing but leaves.

Nothing but leaves: no garnered sheaves
Of life's fair ripened grain;
Words, idle words, for earnest deeds.
We sow our seed--lo! tares and weeds:
Go reap with toil and pain
Nothing but leaves.

Nothing but leaves: memory weaves
No veil to sever the past;
As we return our weary way,
Counting each lost and misspent day,
We find sadly, at last,
Nothing but leaves.

And shall we meet the Master so,
Bearing our withered leaves?
The Saviour looks for perfect fruit:
We stand before Him, humbled, mute,
Waiting the word He breathes--
Nothing but leaves.

--_Unidentified._

BECAUSE HE FIRST LOVED US.

I love Thee, O my God! but not
For what I hope thereby,
Nor yet because who love Thee not
Must die eternally.
I love Thee, O my God! and still
I ever will love Thee,
Solely because, my God, Thou art
Who first has lovèd me!

For me, to lowest depths of woe
Thou didst Thyself abase;
For me didst bear the cross, the shame,
And manifold disgrace;
For me didst suffer pains unknown,
Blood-sweat and agony.
Yea, death itself--all, all for me!
For me, Thine enemy!

Then shall I not, O Saviour, mine!
Shall I not love Thee well?
Not with the hope of winning heaven,
Nor of escaping hell;
Not with the hope of earning aught,
Nor seeking a reward;
But freely, fully, as Thyself
Hast lovèd me, O Lord!

--_Francis Xavier._

SONNET.

Our course is onward, onward into light:
What though the darkness gathereth amain,
Yet to return or tarry, both are vain.
How tarry, when around us is thick night?
Whither return? what flower yet ever might,
In days of gloom, and cold, and stormy rain,
Enclose itself in its green bud again,
Hiding from wrath of tempest out of sight?
Courage!--we travel through a darksome cave;
But still, as nearer to the light we draw,
Fresh gales will reach us from the upper air,
And wholesome dews of heaven our foreheads lave,
The darkness lighten more, till full of awe
We stand in the open sunshine--unaware.

--_Richard Chenevix Trench._

REST AT EVENING.

When the weariness of Life is ended,
And the task of our long day is done,
And the props, on which our hearts depended,
All have failed or broken, one by one:
Evening and our Sorrow's shadow blended,
Telling us that peace is now begun.

How far back will seem the sun's first dawning
And those early mists so cold and gray!
Half forgotten even the toil of morning,
And the heat and burden of the day.
Flowers that we were tending, and weeds scorning,
All alike are withered and cast away.

Vain will seem the impatient heart which waited,
Toils that gathered but too quickly round;
And the childish joy, so soon elated
At the path we thought none else had found;
And the foolish ardor soon abated
By the storm which cast us to the ground.

Vain those pauses on the road, each seeming
As our final home and resting-place;
And the leaving them, while tears were streaming
Of eternal sorrow down our face;
And the hands we held, fond folly dreaming
That no future could their touch efface.

All will then be faded:--night will borrow
Stars of light to crown our perfect rest;
And the dim vague memory of faint sorrow
Just remain to show us all was best,
Then melt into a divine to-morrow:--
O how poor a day to be so blest!

--_Adelaide Procter._

Now the day is over,
Night is drawing nigh,
Shadows of the evening
Steal across the sky.

Now the darkness gathers,
Stars begin to peep,
Birds, and beasts, and flowers,
Soon will be asleep.

JESU, give the weary
Calm and sweet repose;
With Thy tenderest blessing
May mine eyelids close.

Grant to little children
Visions bright of Thee;
Guard the sailors tossing
On the deep blue sea.

Comfort every sufferer
Watching late in pain;
Those who plan some evil
From their sin restrain.

Through the long night watches
May Thine Angels spread
Their white wings above me,
Watching round my bed.

When the morning wakens,
Then may I arise
Pure, and fresh, and sinless
In Thy Holy Eyes.

Glory to the FATHER,
Glory to the SON,
And to Thee, Blest SPIRIT,
Whilst all ages run.

--_Unidentified._

THE LAND OF LIGHT.

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;
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,
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._

Abide with me! fast falls the evening tide,
The darkness deepens; Lord, with me abide;
When other helpers fail, and comforts flee,
Help of the helpless, oh, abide with me.

Swift to its close ebbs out life's little day;
Earth's joys grow dim, its glories pass away;
Change and decay on all around I see;
O Thou who changest not, abide with me.

I need Thy presence every passing hour,
What but Thy grace can foil the tempter's power?
Who like Thyself my guide and stay can be?
Through cloud and sunshine, Lord, abide with me.

I fear no foe, with Thee at hand to bless;
Ills have no weight, and tears no bitterness.
Where is death's sting? where, grave, thy victory?
I triumph still, if Thou abide with me.

Hold Thou Thy cross before my closing eyes;
Shine through the gloom, and point me to the skies;
Heaven's morning breaks, and earth's vain shadows flee;
In life, in death, O Lord, abide with me.

--_Lyte._

FAREWELL OF THE SOUL TO THE BODY.

Companion dear! the hour draws nigh,
The sentence speeds--_to die, to die_.
So long in mystic union held,
So close with strong embrace compell'd,
How canst thou bear the dread decree,
That strikes thy clasping nerves from me?
--To Him who on this mortal shore,
The same encircling vestment wore,
To Him I look, to Him I bend,
To Him thy shuddering frame commend.
--If I have ever caus'd thee pain,
The throbbing breast, the burning brain,
With cares and vigils turn'd thee pale,
And scorn'd thee when thy strength did fail
Forgive!--Forgive!--Thy task doth cease,
Friend! Lover!--let us part in peace.
If thou didst sometimes check my force,
Or, trifling, stay mine upward course,
Or lure from Heaven my wavering trust,
Or bow my drooping wing to dust--
I blame thee not, the strife is done,
I knew thou wert the weaker one,
The vase of earth, the trembling clod,
Constrained to hold the breath of God.
--Well hast thou in my service wrought,
Thy brow hath mirror'd forth my thought,
To wear my smile thy lip hath glow'd,
Thy tear, to speak my sorrows, flowed,
Thine ear hath borne me rich supplies
Of sweetly varied melodies,
Thy hands my prompted deeds have done,
Thy feet upon mine errands run--
Yes, thou hast mark'd my bidding well,
Faithful and true! Farewell, farewell!

Go to thy rest. A quiet bed
Meek mother, earth with flowers shall spread,
Where I no more thy sleep may break
With fever'd dream, nor rudely wake
Thy wearied eye.

Oh, quit thy hold,
For thou art faint, and chill, and cold,
And long thy gasp and groan of pain
Have bound me pitying in thy chain,
Though angels urge me hence to soar,
Where I shall share thine ills no more.
--Yet we shall meet. To soothe thy pain,
Remember--we shall meet again.
Quell with this hope the victor's sting,
And keep it as a signet ring,
When the dire worm shall pierce thy breast,
And nought but ashes mark thy rest,
When stars shall fall, and skies grow dark,
And proud suns quench their glow-worm spark,
Keep thou that hope, to light thy gloom,
Till the last trumpet rends the tomb.
--Then shalt thou glorious rise, and fair,
Nor spot, nor stain, nor wrinkle bear,
And, I with hovering wing elate,
The bursting of thy bonds shall wait,
And breathe the welcome of the sky--
"No more to part, no more to die,
Co-heir of immortality."

--_Mrs. Sigourney._

THE END.