  AND THEY SHALL RISE AGAIN"And they shall rise again!" Oh, words of comfort given To many hearts by sorrow borne unto the earth! "And they shall rise again!" The gates of death are riven, And forth, immortal, steps the Soul unto her birth! Long had they lain in vast Nepenthe's hidden coffers, The germs of life that silent waited but the call Of Love Divine to seize upon the gift it proffers, And to throw back and off, forever, the dark pall. "And they shall rise again!" Arise to glories bounding No earth-born vision, and no span of fleeting days, But, born of depths which life thus far had been but sounding, The heirs of Heaven's crown and its immortal praise! "And they shall rise again!" Oh joys of hope eternal! That though we, weeping, lay them 'neath the heavy sod, God's angels, guarding now, behold their spring supernal, And hold them trusting, waiting but the call of God! So shall this Easter morn, to-day, bring to us waiting, His Word fulfilled,—His gift of gifts above all price! For Earth and Light and Air are all to us relating The glories borne at dawn from shores of Paradise! MINE ONWARD PATHAnd so I take mine onward path, alone, And yet not quite alone if God decree; The way my Lord hath trod shall be mine own, And so my strength shall be! What though it lead through tangled brake and brier, And sharpest stones shall pierce my wounded feet? Unto that height if my faint soul aspire These words mine ear might greet:— "If thou but follow Me through toil and pain, If thou but take thy cross and follow Me, I will reward thee, when I come again, For all Eternity. "But if thou wilt not bear thy cross with Me Thou canst not hope to win the victor's prize; No martyr's crown, no saint's green palm shall be Thy share in Paradise!" And so I fain would take mine onward way In humble imitation of my Lord. This hope to be bear me in it day by day,— His never-failing word! AFTER MANY DAYSCalm seas upon whose placid breast My barque one day shall anchored lie, Beyond this season's keen unrest, Beneath a softened evening sky! I shall not in those hours of peace Recount the storms that strike me now; For me the struggle sore shall cease, And Trust stand at my vessel's prow! The shipwreck and the storm no more May toss me 'neath its stern decree; But anchored within sight of shore A perfect rest shall welcome me! I shall not count the tears that flow These weary hours, these restless days; For then my keener sight shall know The hidden meaning of His ways! And thus I look beyond the storm, Beyond the clouds that now appear; Knowing the ills that take such form Shall flee before the evening clear! Calm seas upon whose placid breast My barque one day shall anchored lie, My soul may not possess thy rest Until the evening draweth nigh! SOME DAYSome day when all this weary time No more hath power to stay my flight; When far from earth's unhappy clime My soul shall speed her way to light, I shall no more this garb of clay (Beneath whose weight I sink opprest) Bear with me; but, oh blessÉd day, Find all denied in life of rest! Some day! ah, how my heart doth cry With longing and with pain, aloud, For some faint sign lest hope should die; For some small token through the cloud! Lest joy no more my guest should be, And peace, that calms with tender touch, No more should come to visit me, Who need their presence here so much. Some day! Nay, do I not know well This life bears little in its hand That we should lie as in a spell Beneath its strong and cruel band. At best, 'tis but a span dealt out To each; as grains of sand may seem That, as the tempest whirls about, Are gone, and ended as a dream! LAKE WINNEPESEOGEE(TWILIGHT) O fair, broad Lake, upon whose breast The shifting shadows rise and fall, Thy surging waters' vague unrest Sinks beneath twilight's gathering pall. Thy changing beauties quickly glide Successive past th' entrancÉd eye, While hills around, in regal pride, Reflected in thy waters lie. I hear the plash of dipping oar, I see the boats swing on their way; The waves flow on from shore to shore, While softly, slowly dies the day. And sweetly with the evening's calm Upon my heart there falls a peace, That comes as comes the evening psalm, That bids the world's vain tumult cease. And as fall swift the shades of night Along the path my feet must tread, Lo! through the clouds a golden light Upon Life's passing scene is shed. And so, bathed in its softened glow, And tuned to sweetest harmonies Far, far beyond Life's ebb and flow— The soul, immortal, seeks the skies! JESUS OF NAZARETH PASSETH BYO storm-tost soul in thine hour of need Turn to the light ere the moments fly, Turn unto One who will ever heed— Jesus of Nazareth passeth by! Hark, what mean these songs of praise And clouds of incense that float on high? See! borne on wings on this day of days, Jesus of Nazareth passeth by! If thou but touch His garment's hem As they did of old (if thou wouldst not die), Lo, from His person, as unto them, Healing and love flow silently! Into each heart He entereth now, Listeneth unto each sinner's cry! Then—leaving His blessing upon each brow— Jesus of Nazareth passeth by! Joy that we sat at His blessÉd feet! Joy that He hears e'en the faintest sigh! Loudly our lips exultant repeat— "Jesus of Nazareth passeth by!" NEARER MY RESTNearer my rest with each succeeding day That bears me still mine own allotted task. Nearer my rest! the clouds roll swift away, And nought remains, O Lord, for me to ask, If I but bear unflinchingly life's pain, And humbly lay it at Thy feet divine, Then shall I see each loss a hidden gain, And Thy sweet mercy through the darkness shine. Nearer my rest! and as I journey on Grant me, dear Lord, (my angel-guides to be, To keep and help me ere that rest be won), Patience, and Faith, and blessÉd Purity. These guides, I pray Thee, each Thine attribute, And thou, O Lord, my shield and armor bright; For without Thee no tree shall bear good fruit; These three, O Lord, to lead me through the night! SO MANY YEARSThese hands have labored, Lord, so many years; So many years these feet have trod this road; So many years these shoulders, bent and weak, Have borne their own and others' heavy load! This heart has broken in these many years, And tears have dimmed these eyes, till life Has seemed but one sad wilderness, and few The hours of peace amidst the bitter strife! Must I, then, Lord, toil on unceasing here? Hast thou no words of comfort for my soul? Are all the cheerless, fainting hours to win No progress toward my weary spirit's goal? Nay! as I speak, I know the day will dawn From out the dark and tempest-driven night, When I, released, shall stand erect and free Within the glory of that radiant light! No more, then, heart, bewail these hours of earth, No more shed tears of blood, for surely there, Beyond the darkness and the pain and gloom Shines forth the sun in lands that are most fair! SORROWI wore a jewel my breast, Nor knew, till late, that it was such; Oft hath it robbed me of my rest; Oft have I shivered at its touch! I wore it, trembling, and I knew Nor why it was, in fact, nor how Its presence fell like evening dew On shrinking heart, and lip and brow! It was a thing of pain, and yet A subtile blessing seemed to flow From 'neath its touch, though eyes were wet As from the stab of ruthless foe! Not until years had fled did I Behold the inner presence there; Not until Time had passed all by, Did I perceive its beauty rare. But now I know thee as thou art, O Face divine that lookest down Upon my life and bruisÉd heart; And fear of thee fore'er hath flown! Thow shalt walk with me, as I know, For the brief space of years to be; A newer, higher path to show Where sorrow wins me purity! UNKNOWNA day whose wondrous dawn is writ In letters firm and free and bold, Through years whose prophecies shall fit This stone from Life's mosaic old! A day wherein my hands shall rest From labor ill-requited here; The hands whose clasp on peace hath prest Too light to hold it very near. That day whose number ofttimes now Rolls past each year, but all unseen By eyes now holden, shades the brow Where other shades have frequent been! Some token in each joyous year That most I loved, abides unseen, And bears aloft an index clear Upon its leaves now clasped between. The month, the day, the hour is there, Unconscious to my searching eye When, be the skies or dark or fair, Shall added be the Year I die! And as I note each feast of song On earth; each joy, each loss or birth, Shall I not give—nor thus be wrong— A thought to that, when clogging earth Shall hold me bond-slave here no more! No more shall dim with tears mine eyes; When I shall simply pass the door No living hand impatient tries! Not mine to know that day as yet; But in the watches of the night, The watch my soul herself hath set, I wait the coming of that light. Not then as messenger of dread I wait to read it on the scroll; Not as impatient, nor as wed To life, abides my waiting soul! Though now inscribed "unknown" it takes Its place on calendar of earth, An anniversary that wakes To greet us from the hour of birth! |
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