Imagens da página
PDF
ePub
[blocks in formation]

THERE'S a good time coming, boys,

A good time coming;

We may not live to see the day,
But earth shall glisten in the ray

Of the good time coming.
Cannon balls may aid the truth,

But thought's a weapon stronger; We'll win the battle by its aid

Wait a little longer.

There's a good time coming, boys,

A good time coming;

The pen shall supersede the sword,
And Right, not Might, shall be the lord,
In the good time coming.
Worth, not Birth, shall rule mankind,

And be acknowledged stronger;
The proper impulse has been given;

Wait a little longer.

There's a good time coming, boys,
A good time coming;

War in all men's eyes shall be
A monster of iniquity

In the good time coming.
Nations shall not quarrel then,

To prove which is the stronger;
Nor slaughter men for glory's sake:
Wait a little longer.

There's a good time coming, boys,
A good time coming;
Hateful rivalries of creed
Shall not make their martyrs bleed

In the good time coming.
Religion shall be shorn of pride,

And flourish all the stronger; And Charity shall trim her lamp : Wait a little longer.

There's a good time coming, boys,

A good time coming;
Let us aid it all we can-
Every woman, every man—
The good time coming.

Smallest helps, if rightly given,
Make the impulse stronger;
'Twill be strong enough one day;
Wait a little longer.-Mackay.

525. CLERGYMEN.

Is not the care of souls a load sufficient?
Are not your holy stipends paid for this?
Were you not bred apart from worldly noise
To study souls, their cures, and their diseases?
The province of the soul is large enough

To fill up every cranny of your time,

And leave you much to answer, if one wretch Be damn'd by your neglect. -Dryden.

Near yonder copse, where once the garden smiled,
And still where many a garden flower grows wild,
There, where a few torn shrubs the place disclose,
The village preacher's modest mansion rose.
A man he was to all the country dear,
And passing rich with forty pounds a year;
Remote from towns he ran his godly race,
Nor e'er had changed nor wish'd to change his place;
Unskilful he to fawn, or seek for power,

By doctrines fashion'd to the varying hour;
Far other aims his heart had learn'd to prize,
More bent to raise the wretched than to rise.
Goldsmith.

At church with meek and unaffected grace,
His looks adorn'd the venerable place;
Truth from his lips prevail'd with double sway,
And fools who came to scoff, remain'd to pray.
Goldsmith.

526. CLOSET. Waiting in the

LORD, I have shut my door,

Shut out life's busy cares and fretting noise:
Here in this silence they intrude no more.
Speak Thou, and heavenly joys
Shall fill my heart with music sweet and calm,
A holy psalm.

Yes, I have shut my door

Even on all the beauty of Thine earth,—
To its blue ceiling from its emerald floor,
Fill'd with spring's bloom and mirth:
From these Thy works I turn, Thyself I seek,
To Thee I speak.

And I have shut my door

On earthly passion,-all its yearning love, Its tender friendships, all the priceless store Of human ties. Above

All these my heart aspires, O Heart Divine! Stoop Thou to mine.

[blocks in formation]

529. COMFORT. Experience of

I'VE found a joy in sorrow,
A secret balm for pain,
A beautiful to-morrow

Of sunshine after rain.
I've found a branch of healing
Near every bitter spring;
A whisper'd promise stealing
O'er every broken string.
I've found a glad hosanna

For every woe and wail,
A handful of sweet manna
When grapes from Eshcol fail.
I've found a Rock of Ages

When desert wells were dry;
And, after weary stages,

I've found an Elim nigh,—
An Elim, with its coolness,
Its fountains, and its shade!
A blessing in its fulness,

When buds of promise fade!
O'er tears of soft contrition,
I've seen a rainbow light;
A glory and fruition,

So near-yet out of sight.

My Saviour! Thee possessing,
I have the joy, the balm,
The healing and the blessing,
The sunshine and the psalm!
The promise for the fearful,
The Elim for the faint,
The rainbow for the tearful,

The glory for the saint.-Jane Crewdson.

530. COMFORT: how it is to be obtained. Is thy cruse of comfort failing? rise and share it with another,

And through all the years of famine it shall serve thee and thy brother.

Love Divine will fill the storehouse, or thy handful still renew;

Scanty fare for one will often make a royal feast for two.

For the heart grows rich in giving; all its wealth is living gain;

Seeds, which mildew in the garner, scatter'd, fill

with gold the plain.

Is thy burden hard and heavy? do thy steps drag wearily?

Help to bear thy brother's burden; God will bear both it and thee.

Numb and weary on the mountains, wouldst thou

sleep amidst the snow?

Chafe that frozen form beside thee, and together both shall glow.

Art thou stricken in life's battle? many wounded round thee moan;

Lavish on their wounds thy balsams, and that balm shall heal thine own.

Is the heart a well left empty? None but God its void can fill;

Nothing but a ceaseless Fountain can its ceaseless longings fill;

Is the heart a living power? Self-entwined, its strength sinks low;

It can only live in loving, and by serving love will grow.-Mrs Charles.

531. COMFORT. Prayer for

SPEAK low to me, my Saviour, low and sweet,
From out the hallelujahs sweet and low,
Lest I should fear and fall, and miss Thee so,
Who art not miss'd by any that entreat.
Speak to me as to Mary at Thy feet,-
And if no precious gums my hands bestow,
Let my tears drop like amber, while I go
In reach of Thy Divinest voice complete
In humanest affection,-thus, in sooth,
To lose the sense of losing! As a child,

[blocks in formation]

is it not strange, the darkest hour

That ever dawn'd on sinful earth
Should touch the heart with softer power

For comfort, than an angel's mirth?

That to the Cross the mourner's eye should turn Sooner than where the stars of Christmas burn?

Sooner than where the Easter sun

Shines glorious on yon open grave, And to and fro the tidings run,

'Who died to heal, is risen to save?' Sooner than where upon the Saviour's friends

The very Comforter in light and love descends?

Yet so it is for duly there

:

[blocks in formation]

Nay, do not wrong Him by thy heavy thoughts,
But love His love.

Do thou full justice to His tenderness,
His mercy prove;

Take Him for what He is; oh, take Him all,
And look above!

Then shall thy tossing soul find anchorage
And steadfast peace;

Thy love shall rest on His, thy doubts
For ever cease.

Thy heart shall find in Him and in His grace
Its rest and bliss!

Christ and His love shall be thy blessed all
For evermore!

Christ and His light shall shine on all thy ways
For evermore !

Christ and His peace shall keep thy troubled soul For evermore!

535. COMMENDATION.

PRAISE a fool, and slay him; for the canvas of his vanity is spread;

His bark is shallow in the water, and a sudden gust shall sink it:

Praise a wise man and speed him on his way; for he carrieth the ballast of humility,

And is glad when his course is cheered by the sympathy of brethren ashore.

The praise of a good man is good, for he holdeth up the mirror of Truth,

That Virtue may see her own beauty, and delight in her own fair face:

The praise of a bad man is evil, for he hideth the deformity of Vice,

Casting the mantle of a queen around the limbs of a leper.

Praise is rebuke to the man whose conscience alloweth it not:

And where Conscience feeleth it her due, no praise is better than a little.

He that despiseth the outward appearance, despiseth the esteem of his fellows;

And he that overmuch regardeth it, shall earn only their contempt:

The honest commendation of an equal no one can scorn and be blameless,

Yet even that fair fame no one can hunt for and be

honoured:

If it come, accept it and be thankful, and be thou

humble in accepting;

If it tarry, be not thou cast down: the bee can gather honey out of rue.

With a friend, praise him when thou canst; for many a friendship hath decayed,

Like a plant in a crowded corner,

for want of sun

shine on its leaves :

Ere yet they brought their journey to an end, A stranger join'd them, courteous as a friend,

With another praise him not often,―otherwise he | And ask'd them with a kind, engaging air,

shall despise thee;

But be thou frugal in commending; so will he give honour to thy judgment.

Wilt thou that one remember a thing?—praise him in the midst of thy advice.

What their affliction was, and begg'd a share.
Inform'd, He gather'd up the broken thread,
And, truth and wisdom gracing all He said,
Explain'd, illustrated, and search'd so well
The tender theme on which they chose to dwell,

Expect not praise from the mean, neither gratitude That reaching home, The night, they said, is near, from the selfish.-Tupper.

536. COMMENTATORS.

COMMENTATORS each dark passage shun, And hold their farthing candle to the sun.

Young.

537. COMMUNION. Divine

THEY know, who thus oppress me,

'Tis hard to be alone;

But know not One can bless me,

Who comes through bars and stone;

He makes my dungeon's darkness bright,
And fills my bosom with delight.

Thy love, O God! restores me

From sighs and tears to praise ;
And deep my soul adores Thee,
Nor thinks of time or place:
I ask no more, in good or ill,
But union with Thy holy will.

'Tis that which makes my treasure,
'Tis that which brings my gain;
Converting woe to pleasure,

And reaping joy from pain. Oh, 'tis enough, whate'er befall, To know that God is All in all.

Madame Guyon, tr. by T. C. Upham.

538. COMMUNION. Example of

IT happen'd on a solemn eventide,
Soon after He that was our Surety died,
Two bosom friends, each pensively inclined,
The scene of all those sorrows left behind;
Sought their own village, busied as they went
In musings worthy of the great event;
They spake of Him they loved, of Him whose life,
Though blameless, had incurr'd perpetual strife,
Whose deeds had left, in spite of hostile arts,
A deep memorial graven on their hearts.
The recollection, like a vein of ore,

The further traced, enrich'd them still the more;
They thought Him, and they justly thought Him, One
Sent to do more than He appear'd t' have done;
To exalt a people, and to place them high
Above all else, and wonder'd He should die.

We must not now be parted, sojourn here.—
The new acquaintance soon became a guest,
And, made so welcome at their simple feast,
He bless'd the bread, but vanish'd at the word,
And left them both exclaiming, "Twas the Lord!
Did not our hearts feel all He deign'd to say!
Did they not burn within us by the way?'
Now theirs was converse, such as it behoves
Man to maintain, and such as God approves ;
Their views, indeed, were indistinct and dim,
But yet successful, being aim'd at Him,
Christ and His character their only scope,
Their object, and their subject, and their hope,
They felt what it became them much to feel,
And, wanting Him to loose the sacred seal,
Found Him as prompt as their desire was true,
To spread the new-born glories in their view.
Cowper.

539. COMMUNION. Key to
HE stands and knocks, and bids me ope the door,
Without He stands, and asks to enter in :
Why should He seek a shelter sad with sin?
Will He but knock and ask, and nothing more?
He knows what ways I take to shut my heart,
And if He will He can Himself undo
My foolish fastenings, or by force break through,
Nor wait till I fulfil my needless part.

But nay, He will not choose to enter so,-
He will not be my guest without consent,
Nor though I say 'Come in,' is He content;
I must arise and ope, or He will go.

He shall not go; I do arise and ope,

'Come in, dear Lord, come in and sup with me, Oh, blessed Guest, and let me sup with Thee,'Where is the door? for in this dark I grope,

And cannot find it soon enough; my hand,

Shut hard, holds fast the one sure key I need,
And trembles, shaken with its eager heed;
No other key will answer my demand.

The door between is some command undone,
Obedience is the key that slides the bar,
And lets Him in, who stands so near, so far;
The doors are many, but the key is one.- Wilkinson.

540. COMPANIONS. Choice of

NOT with the light and vain,

The man of idle feet and wanton eyes; Not with the world's gay, ever-smiling train ; My lot be with the grave and wise.

Not with the trifler gay,

To whom life seems but sunshine on the wave; Not with the empty idler of the day;

My lot be with the wise and grave.

Not with the jesting fool,

Who knows not what to sober truth is due, Whose words fly out without or aim or rule! My lot be with the wise and true.

Not with the man of dreams,

In whose bright words no truth nor wisdom lies, Dazzling the fervent youth with mystic gleams; My lot be with the simply wise.

With them I'd walk each day,

From them time's solemn lessons would I learn, That false from true and true from false I may Each hour more patiently discern.-Bonar.

[blocks in formation]

SOME love the glow of outward show,

Some love mere wealth and try to win it; The house to me may lowly be,

If I but like the people in it.

What's all the gold that glitters cold,
When link'd to hard or haughty feeling?
Whate'er we're told, the nobler gold

Is truth of heart and manly dealing!

Then let them seek, whose minds are weak,
Mere fashion's smile, and try to win it ;

The house to me may lowly be,

If I but like the people in it !--Charles Swain.

[blocks in formation]

Wisdom, in an ailing body; or a common mind, with health;

Godliness, with man's scorn; or the welcome of the mighty, with guilt;

Beauty, with a fickle heart; or plainness of face, with affection.

For so hath Providence determined, that a man shall not easily discover

Unmingled good or evil, to quicken his envy or

abhorrence.

A bold man or a fool must he be, who would change his lot with another.

It were a fearful bargain, and mercy hath lovingly refused it.-Tupper.

544. COMPENSATION. Moral

JUST, and strong, and opportune, is the moral rule of God;

Ripe in its times, firm in its judgments, equal in the measure of its gifts.

Yet men, scanning the surface, count the wicked happy,

Nor heed the compensating peace which gladdeneth

the good in his afflictions.

They see not the frightful dreams that crowd a bad man's pillow;

They know not the torturing suspicions that sting his panting breast,

When the clear eye of penetration quietly readeth off the truth.

Likewise of the good what know they? the memories bringing pleasure,

Shrined in the heart of the benevolent and glistening from his eye.

The calm, self-justifying reason that establisheth the upright in his purpose;

The warm and gushing bliss that floodeth all the thoughts of the religious.- Tupper.

545. COMPENSATION : required.

NOTHING comes free-cost here. Jove will not let His gifts go from him, if not bought with sweat. Robert Herrick.

546. COMPLAINT: a trial of the Divine patience.

I SOMETIMES think God's tender heart must ache,
List'ning to all the sad complaining cries,
That from our weak, impatient souls arise--
Because we do not see that for our sake,
He answers not, or answers otherwise
Than seems the best to our tear-blinded eyes.
This is Love's hardest task, to do hard things
For Love's own sake, then bear the murmurings

« AnteriorContinuar »