POEMS. (continued 2)

He’ll shelter from the coming storm; no plague shall e’er come nigh; He’ll hide from God’s avenging wrath, and you shall never die. Life’s water pure is here: come, drink! ’tis freely offered still; The Spirit and the Bride say, Come! Come, whosoever will.

Are we suffering persecution, trying God’s commands to keep? Are our spirits crushed within us? Do we oft in silence weep? From the world naught else we look for; we expect its coldest frown; But when those we love turn from us, how we sink in sorrow down!

Where we’ve felt God’s image planted, where in union we have prayed, Where our faith has gained the victory, and we knew from Heaven our aid, Oh! what change has cooled the fervor; what could mean this cold retreat? Lord, let thine in union ever, and in love, each other greet.

God’s own searching eye is on us! Jesus feels our every grief! He’ll not leave his own thus wounded, but will bring them swift relief; Making known our every duty, teaching where he’d have us go, Saying, Fear not! I’ll be with you, and all needed help bestow.

Though you see your bread withholden, find no place to lay your head; Cast your all on Heaven’s protection: God to life can raise the dead! Who the widow’s oil replenished? Who kept good her needed store, When Elijah shared her morsel, having naught to purchase more?

If we blindly hug earth’s treasures, where shall we a shelter find? Soon the plagues will be upon us! all then on the altar bind. Do you say ’tis on the altar? By the fruit it will be known: God is searching out his people, and is sealing for his own.

Let us fear lest we offend him, and he pass our dwelling by: [090] He will have a holy people, whom no plague can e’er come nigh. Haste to get thee disentangled! Haste to get from bondage free! Lose not for this world’s possessions, life and immortality!

I look back to the past, call to mind former days; When life was all life, all illumined its rays; When I entered the ball room in pleasing attire, Having all that my vain mind or wish could desire.

I had naught here to check, all elated in mind, Both pastor and people the gay circle joined; When the priest craved a blessing on dainties most rare, Oh! why should I think any harm could be there?

No cloud had come o’er me; all prospects were bright; This vain course I pursued with exquisite delight; I dreamed not that tears would these pleasures efface, That sickness and death would come in for a place.

But my own dear loved father, in manhood and bloom, Was called from life’s stage and consigned to the tomb; How great such a change, and how solemn the day, The same priest referred to was with us to pray.

Being then in youth’s bloom, in its glory and prime, My grief wore away with the swiftness of time. True, a loss I sustained in his death; but, all o’er, I again joined the song and the dance as before.

The scene soon was changed, we could just number years, When my mother, my dear mother left me in tears; She died e’re I’d come to the age of eighteen; How deep was my grief, how afflictive the scene.

To cheer, friends and relatives strove but in vain; From weeping incessant I scarce could refrain; The wound seemed too deep for this world e’er to heal; That I’d no hope in God, I was then brought to feel.

Repentance moved Jesus my sins to forgive; I could trust in his word, on his promises live; But I found no response, none to guide in the place; Those around had no faith in a change wrought by grace.

’Midst life’s changing scenes, I most happily found A people who knew Heaven’s own joyful sound; Our union and love then were truly divine, I’d the witness, and knew Heaven’s blessings were mine.

I could then bless the Lord for this chastening rod; How far above earth’s this enjoyment in God; The hight of earth’s pleasures all dwindled away, In the light and the glory of this blessed day.

This dear, lone room, a sacred place— Here friends have met in love’s embrace; Here, too, have died the loved and dear, The circle first was broken here.

The lonely hearth, the vacant chair, But tell the father is not there. The only daughter, loved and true, Here bid earth’s scenes a last adieu.

I love here to recall the past, And mourn o’er joys too bright to last. In fancy’s vision here I see Those forms so loved, so dear to me.

We know that help on one is laid Who has his life a ransom paid; We know his blood can cleanse from sin, And make us clean and pure within.

We know the arm that’s strong to save, The power that rescues from the grave. We know that ne’er Jehovah’s ear Is deafened that he cannot hear.

Taken in Satan’s artful snare, Who once had power with God in prayer, Their minds and hearts by sin enslaved— Can such go through? can such be saved?

Though we may not their case decide, The faithful all will be supplied. They’ll see “the cloud of radiant light,” “The fount of glory” full and bright.

They see the signs fulfilling fast; And soon earth’s conflict will be past: Nor do they shrink from being there; For they presume not nor despair.

They know in whom they have believed; Their Saviour victory has achieved. Though heaven and earth to ruin go, His promise will no failure know.

No cause for doubts or darkness here, For troubled mind or slavish fear. Trials and crosses we’ll receive, If some may turn to God and live.

But those who will not heed the call, For God and Heaven to give up all, May well sink down in dark despair; For they will gain no entrance there.

Out from life’s hour glass we must see our sands have nearly run, And we with social scenes in life shall surely soon have done. Be this improved, then, for our good; our last days be our best, And in the final gathering we be found among the blest.

On us is seen th’ effect of age; we see the furrowed brow. Time’s stern realities o’ertake, and we are forced to bow. Compared the once bright, sparkling eye, the rosy, blooming cheek, Our present looks, infirmities, and form, do volumes speak.

Though some most helpless, others bowed, on all is seen decay, There’re those o’er three-score years and ten who’re youthful, blithe, and gay. Be such, then, hopeful, full of life, as may become us here. There’s much at best t’ embitter life, to make it sad and drear.

We have unfading beauty here, if we have love divine, Howe’er defaced by time and age will nature’s works outshine; Its rays of light reflecting o’er this moral atmosphere, Will still be seen and felt for good, though we may disappear.

This present meeting then will seem a little Heaven below, Its influence, too, be spread abroad wherever we may go. Be this the pleasing, glad result; and then in fadeless bloom, We shall in beauty be arrayed beyond the silent tomb.

What though while here we soar in fame, And gain earth’s most illustrious name, Have heaps on heaps of sordid gold, No pleasures here desired, withhold.

Be mayor, emperor and king; To light and use improvements bring; For having some great place explored, [095] Be worshiped, honored and adored; Your influence o’er an empire spread, And you looked up to as the head; What then? the king and hero dies; And though ’tis said the great here lies, ’T might well be asked, “False marble, where? Nothing but sordid dust lies here.” Thus earth’s career, however grand, When called before their judge to stand, If not to God and Heaven resigned, Ere to the tomb they were consigned, Will prove no covering for the head, Though banners here were for them spread. What horror then must seize the heart, When God commands, from him depart; Though laws and statutes here they made, This sentence then must be obeyed.

Sin’s dread beginning here we know, Its issue none on earth can show; But oh! the “end, the dreadful end,” Of those who have in God no friend.

Ye idols all depart, The Lord shall have my heart; I’m his by right. On him my sins were laid; He has my ransom paid, In God’s pure sight.

Through him I’ll conquer too, And all my sins subdue; In him be free. [096] He died to have it so, And in his strength I’ll go, Till him I see.

Oh! shall I see his face, And rest in his embrace Forevermore? My soul is on the wing To glorify my King; Him I adore.

All Heaven adore him now, In adoration bow; It is his due. For saints shall swell the song Of the angelic throng, In earth made new.

They’ll see him as he is, And know that they are his; Be like him made. In union, all the same, There’ll be to his dear name, True homage paid.

Hail, that all-glorious place, When all the ransomed race, Their voices raise; And all with sweet accord, Give glory to the Lord, In ceaseless praise.

In Eden beauty dressed, Will be each heavenly guest, All blooming fair. This inward truth we know, And there we long to go; God will be there.