Book 8 — FAMILY PIECES

TO MY BELOVED WIFE, DURING AFFLICTION, 1842.

Ann, we have lived in peace for three long years. Much pleasure we have had, some crosses too; Enough to show that in this Vale of Tears Affliction's needed still to bring us through.

Why should it not be so? Our God is good; He also wise, and better far doth know What's best for us, and if we understood Our interest well we should confess it so.

A man both wise and good did once aver— "At th' hands of God we have received good; And shall not we, who are so prone to err, Receive our evil too, as best we should?"

My dearest Ann, let not your spirits down, But with me kiss the rod that God hath sent His promise is that he will not disown Those dear to him, though by sore troubles bent.

O, that the sacred influence of truth Which we profess may ever dwell within; That we may bear the yoke now in our youth, And always flee the devious paths of sin.

O, that the Holy Book which does contain The greatest charter our kind God can grant, May prove to be like precious heavenly rain To nourish, strengthen, and keep us from want.

Then, hand in hand in unity and love, In holiness we'll walk before our God, And have affections fixed on things above, Our feet with "gospel preparation shod."

And thus may we hold on Life's journey through; Nor e'er forsake pure Wisdom's sacred path. Still as we journey always keep in view Those glorious things "the righteous nation" hath.

In sure and certain prospect, far beyond In point of worth this world and all its toys, Treasure in heaven, beside the blissful sound Of Jesus' voice, with sweetest heavenly joys.

And may our children all likewise receive The richest dews of heavenly blessing now. O, may the Lord make each of them believe The gospel pure, and to its teachings bow.

And then indeed should we be called to part While in this world, we all shall meet above, Where we with every power and all our heart Will praise the Saviour's name and sing his love.

O, blest, blest thought! through vast Eternity In purest bliss and holiness to dwell. There our glad eyes shall Jesus ever see, And hear the Saints his greatest wonders tell.

TO MY DAUGHTER MARY ANN, ASLEEP.

1842.

Sweetly asleep is Mary Ann, In calmest infantile repose Her lovely face no longer wan, Seems lovelier still when in a doze.

Sleep on, my babe, I'll not disturb, Thy silent rest I love to view; For now thou needest not the curb I use in trying to subdue

Thy peevish temper, which, I ween Needs constant care from me, thy site, While through thy childish ways are seen Thy passions strong in wildest fire.

Sleep on, my child, some future day May see thee walking in God's ways. For this great blessing will I pray Still guided by the Truth's clear rays.

Sleep on, my little girl, till morn, And when awake pursue thy play; Yet, when grown up, may'st thou adorn The sphere in which thou mov'st by day.

Sleep on, my daughter, sleep in peace. Thou has been toiling through the day. Thy little tongue doth seldom cease From talking much in thy own way.

Sleep on, sweet prattler, and may bright Angelic Spirits guard thee round, Till Sol with his resplendent light Doth break thy slumbers quite profound.

Yes, sleep, my child, through every night, As fast revolving years proceed. By day enjoy the heavenly light, Of which we in the Bible read.

But oh, sleep not when duties bid My girl awake to run the race Which Christians run, when thorns amid May make her see her need of Grace.

And oh, sleep not in ways of sin, For dangers lurk with serpent wiles; And false security within, Each unsuspecting mind beguiles.

And when the solemn time arrives For thee to sleep in death at peace, And thy pure spirit strongly strives To gain her longed-for wished release,

O, may she mount to yon abode Where God's blest Saints and Angels dwell; And there rejoice in him who trode The path to death to save from hell.

TO ELLEN AND WILLIE.

Ellen, my prattler dear, Willie, my darling boy, My children need not fear, They shall my gift employ.

To you, by great neglect, I have no rhyme addressed. This you would scarce expect, So much you've been caressed.

For it I now will try To make amends quite ample, And trust the time is nigh When you can read this sample.

Ellen, I think I see That thou resemblest mother; Thou'rt not so much like me As Willie, thy young brother.

One thing I wish you both, That you in your behaviour Like her, may not be loath To follow Christ, the Saviour.

For never have I seen One of a lovelier spirit; No mortals do, I ween, Such loveliness inherit.

She was of temper mild, Was often smiling sweetly, In malice was a child, As a Christian walked discreetly.

To have this said of you Would give your father pleasure. It would be worth, if true, To me a world of treasure.

So Ellen, prattler dear, Willie, my darling boy, While father's stay is here, O, fill his heart with joy.

As soon as you can read, Peruse the Bible's page, And to your ways take heed As you advance in age.

Then to the Savior fly, Who, only, you can save From woes that never die, In death beyond the grave.

That we may meet at last In Heaven, that happy place, When every storm is past, To view our Jesus' face.

TO MR. AND MRS. C. BATTY.

1847.

Parents-in-law, a Rhymer much in debt Deems it full time to try his debts to pay; And as some large arrears are standing yet, To give this mite I will no more delay.

And if I cannot make a full discharge, Perhaps I may induce you to forbear, For though this portion is not very large, 'Tis quite as much as I can freely spare.

Preliminaries settled, I proceed To seek the assistance of my humble Muse; Well knowing that she will in time of need Give forth such numbers as you'll not refuse.

Impelled by gratitute for kindness shown, I bless my God I now so long have known That sweet connection in which I have stood With you and yours. Thoughts of it make the blood Run freely through my veins; they cheer my mind, Revive my spirits, make me leave behind Vile carking cares, dispel my melancholy, Fire my devotion with desires most holy,

Fill my sad soul! Thus am I drawn away, And in imagination soar to-day To those blest regions where my Ann has gone, And feel that even now I'm not alone. For her pure spirit is with mine Holding fellowship divine. Hark! she whispers in the skies, "Let thy prayers to Heaven arise; Let thy songs ascend above; Sing evermore Redeeming Love; For all those who here do enter Cleave to Jesus as their Centre, And we now on holy ground Join in one unceasing round Of purest pleasure, and do raise Our voices in the Saviour's praise And thus throughout Eternity Dwell in sweetest harmony. To all my kindred I would say. Work while 'tis called 'to-day.' Always listen to the voice Of Jesus, and in him rejoice. Make his righteousness your boast, For without it you are lost. Listen now, he calls to-day; Flee, Oh, flee to him away!" She ceased to speak, and back her spirit fled To yon bright Mansions where her Saviour led; And we are left confined in tents of clay, To "groan, being burdened," for Redemption's day. Oh, then, dear parents, let us not forget The "still small voice" of Mercy's speaking yet. Let us put on afresh our heavenly armor, The Christian warfare is but growing warmer. Should our weak courage fail, let us in meekness Look still to him who gives us strength in weakness. And thus supported, may our lives declare How blest the portion which through grace we share.

TO MY INFANT ANNIE.

1847.

Motherless babe, I can't forbear to make Some rhyme to thee for thy dear mother's sake. Thy pleasant looks, thy smiles, thy temper mild Do much surprise me in so young a child. In thy sweet face I view in embryo My lost wife's charms; it is, it must be so. Quiet thy ways, and smiling oft through tears, An earnest surely this for future years, That the same lovely conduct may be shown Which marked thy mother's life, as is well known. Then as thou dost advance to womanhood, May God's own Word by thee be understood. Can I look forward to the time When thou shalt reach a woman's prime? When youth and beauty, linked with grace May beam forth from thy smiling face? Alas, the future, hid from sight Of all but Him who dwells in light, May see us numbered with the dead. And knowing this may I be led To train my children in the way That leads to Heaven's eternal day.

STANZAS.

IN MEMORY OF ANNIE, DIED JULY 11, 1847.

Thou'rt gone, thou lovely gem, I trust To grace the crown of Zion's King; And we thy body to the dust Commit with faith unwavering.

Thou wast just long enough with us To charm our hearts and claim our low; And now thou'rt gone. Why is it thus? Did Jesus need thy soul above?

For twenty weeks thy lovely face, Thy pleasing smiles, thy temper mild, Have made thy father hope to trace The mother in her darling child.

And yet thou hast for some time seemed Too fair a flower to bloom below. Thy death but proves our Father deemed It best that thou in Heaven should'st grow.

And knowing, as I well may know That this vain world is full of trial, I would not say against the blow, Though it may cause me self-denial.

Now, while I write, my thoughts ascend More fleetly than the lightning's flame To that blest place where lowly bend God's saints, In worship of his name.

And there methinks I see thee join With mother and a numerous throng. In praise of Him who is Divine, To whom all honor does belong.

Why should we grudge to part with thee? Thou went our Heavenly father's own; And he far better knows than we What's best to do, as will be shown.

And yet it seems so hard to part—, To part with those we love so dearly, That, though the keenness of the smart Is gone through Jesus' death most clearly,

We cannot help but mourn and weep At losing for a time such treasure. But we'll, rejoice that those who sleep In Christ, shall, in unbounded measure,

Enjoy true happiness and peace In yon fair World, where pain not tears. Are either felt or seen; where cease All sorrow and perplexing fears,

TO MRS. H. BATTSON.

1847.

To you, dear sister, I would now address A rude production of my rhyming brain; And if it does increase your happiness, Of this intrusion you will not complain.

Margaret, nine years have nearly rolled away, Since I first met on at your father's place. Well I remember, to the very day, My first glad glimpse of your young smiling face.

More, I remember for, almost forlorn, I was received well 'neath that friendly roof, And such pure kindness unto me was shown As put my gratitude to strongest proof.

May I not hope that our dear Saviour took As done to him what then was done for me? If so, your names are written in his book, As an assembled universe may see.

'Tis now, when one not only dear to me, But to you all, has reached the World of Bliss, That I am led more clearly still to see The grandeur which in our Religion is.

May I not hope that in some small degree, The exercise of my poor gifts did tend To lead the youthful, loving sisters three Beneath Christ's yoke their willing necks to bend?

And now what shall I say? You are a wife; A mother's joys, I trust, will soon be ours. O, may you still in blest conjugal life Find that true grace which evermore endues.

And may you live for many years to come That life which none but Christians true can live. Press forward now to reach your heavenly home; A sacrifice to God your being give.

And may the Lord give Grace to one and all, That we may serve him while we stay below; Then, in due time He will our spirits call To share that bliss he can alone bestow.

TO MR. AND MRS. W. BATTY, OF PARIS.

1847.

Brother and sister dear, my stay I prolong here, While an effusion can flow from my pen. May it you gratify, your minds now satisfy, That I may have courage to try it again.

Do thou, my dear brother—for there is no other Has a claim upon me if thou be denied— Accept from me the lay I in gratitude pay For services rendered when I was so tried.

When by great sickness low, I was some years ago, Thy interest with mine was clearly as one. For me thou wast striving, thyself wast depriving Of needful repose when thy day's work was done.

In view then of thy strong affection As shown to me, my feelings flow; And, while I enjoy reflection, I'll strive my gratitude to show.

I saw thy conduct with emotion, Prayed my God to own and bless What thou didst through love's devotion, To increase my happiness.

'Twas then I sought thy soul's Salvation; In prayer besought the Lord to make What proved to me severe probation A blessing to thee for Christ's' sake.

And now I see thee with thy wife, Ranked amongst the heirs of Glory, Partakers of Eternal Life Through faith in sweet Redemption's Story.

A blessing this, which fleeting Time Can not unfold in all its brightness, As 'twill be seen when in Heaven's prime We walk its streets in robes of whiteness.

Hail happy day! thy near approach Inspires our hearts with joy and gladness, Enables us to bear reproach, Takes from our hearts much of their sadness.

Brother and sister dear, let us while we are here Cling unto Jesus, our very best friend; That when Death shall come we may soon reach our home, And gain Felicity never to end.

FIRESIDE THOUGHTS OF ANN, MY FORMER WIFE.

Wrapt of late in solemn musing On the checkered scenes of life, Peace was o'er my mind diffusing As I thought of Ann, my wife.

Pure in life and conversation, Full of smiles and modest worth, Showing calmest resignation When sad trials called it forth.

Sweet and softly o'er me stealing, Like a pleasant zephyr's breath, Came pure faith, my sore heart healing As I thought of Ann in death.

In her prime and beauty dying, Full of love and heavenly joy, Safe in Christ, stern Death, defying Nothing could her peace destroy.

Faith and fancy both combining, Blessings to me freely given, Keep my soul from e'er repining, As I think of Ann in Heaven.

TO MY BROTHER JAMES.

James, 'tis full time for me to write Some rhymes to you in earnest quite. I've promised long, and now I'll try My promise to fulfill, and why? Because you have a claim on me Which, when paid off, will set me free, To run awhile again in debt, Which in its turn shall sure be met. But this is trifling, you may say. Perhaps it is, but trifles may Effect some good; they often do, And quite as often please us, too. Who's free from trifling? I would ask. To find out one would prove a task. But then I candidly confess That we should surely trifle less. Well, let me see; can any theme Be started? Yes, I had a dream [FOOTNOTE: Fact.] The other night. Both you and I Were standing on a hill so high, And soon there came a mighty stream Which did not leave of hope a gleam. But suddenly a plank we found, That brought us safely to dry ground. Then I awoke devoid of fear, And you the Moral true shall hear.

All mortals now are sailing down The stream of time, as you must own; And waters roar, and dash, and foam. Then say—how shall we reach our home? There is a plank, as we have seen, And it is safe, most safe, I ween. 'Tis in the Gospel clearly shown, 'Tis by all Christians fully known. We have its merits long since tried, And glory in the Lamb who died. Then let us prize it as we ought, And serve him who our souls has bought. For surely this our duty is If we would reach eternal bliss.

TO MY DAUGHTER ELLEN, ON HER WEDDING DAY, MARCH 20, 1859.

Ellen, on this glad occasion I address to you a rhyme, And in tones of sweet persuasion Would advise you at this time.

If full measure of enjoyment You would seek in married life, Make it daily your employment To avoid what leads to strife.

Prize, O prize, both now and ever, Joseph's confidence of love. See that fits of temper never Drive him forth from home to rove.

Should he show unlooked for weakness, Hide the secret in your breast, And expostulate with meekness When you have God's Throne addressed.

Always aim to dress with neatness, Though your clothes be e'er so plain; Add to this your mother's sweetness, If you would love's sway maintain.

Should yours prove a life of trial, May you both still look above. Exercise in self-denial Strengthens pre-existing love.

I have found that constant blessing Springs from troubles sanctified, And when needs have been most pressing, God himself those needs supplied.

To His care I therefore leave you, Bid you lean upon his arm; May naught soon arise to grieve you, Naught to damp affection warm.