Lays from the West | Page 4

sad, true story,?No lasting joy is here, all knows decay.
"Die erste Liebe ist die beste," leaving?A holy radiance round the scenes we knew;?A potent power to point lone spirits, grieving,?To deathless Love whose charms are ever new.
It ever shows, "in part," in sweet tuition,?What we shall know when we have gained the light,?When all our highest hopes fade in fruition,?Where the Eternal Summer beameth bright.
THY WORD IS A LIGHT UNTO MY FEET.
Oh! Light of Lights! dark, dark is earth's long way,?Cloud upon cloud looms o'er the path I stray;?Far-off and dim the heavenly Land appears,?Through the thick mist of weak distrust--and fears.?Helpless, I seek Thy Word, and hear Thy voice,?That bids me always in the Lord rejoice;?Pointing from doubts within, and this world's wile?To peace and victory, in "a little while."
Oh! Saviour, Friend, how dark is life's rough path.?What gloom and sorrow haunts this Vale of Death;?Subtle the way, beset with many a snare?And hidden evils lurking everywhere.?But in this Light that shows my love, I see,?This path Thou'st trod, and borne these griefs, for me,?"Fear not!" I hear in tones of tenderest love?"'Tis in thy weakness that my strength I prove."
The world's temptations rage on life's wild sea,?Drifting the fragile bark I steer to Thee,?But safe I pass the rocks and angry waves,?Helped by Thy mighty arm that shields and saves.?And still above the wind's and water's roar?A calm voice hails me from the distant shore,?"Cast all your care undoubtingly on Me,?Fully and freely, for I care for thee."
When twilight shades fall round me, dim and grey,?All those I love the most are far away,?I look to Thee, and dry my willful tears--?With love like Thine, I dread no lonely years.?If 'tis Thy will, let bitter partings come,?Sweet shall the meetings be in yonder Home;?While here I have Thy love that cannot die,?And could I feel alone when Thou art nigh?
Weary with waiting for Thy promised rest,?Dismayed with doubts, with sinfulness distressed;?"Oh! let Thy kingdom come!" I pray "that I?May join the glad new song they sing on high;"?Then thy sweet words bring patience, "I prepare?For thee an heavenly mansion, bright and fair,?That where I am Thou mayest with Me abide,?And taste full joy for ever by My side."
I bless thee, Saviour, for this word of life,?This light to guide me safe through every strife,?This lantern o'er my pathway shining clear?To show the dangers, and the Helper near.?I love to see it beaming, day by day,?Thine own bright smile, that lights the darksome way;?"Led by Thy counsel," oh! what joy to be?"Received in glory," Lord, at last by Thee.
MEMORIES.
"In der Weit, weit,?Aus der Einsamkeit,?Wollen sie Dich locken."--FAUST.
When the glad, bright days of our youth's fresh prime,?Shall have pass'd, as a dream that at morning dies;?When the long blank stretch of the coming time?Like a desolate desert before us lies,?Dreary and cheerless, 'neath sunless skies.
When young, sweet love, with her luring smile,?The mystic charm-light of halcyon hours,?Shall no more with her witch'ry our souls beguile,?As the leaves grow seer on Life's fading bowers,?And the blushes are pale on its withering flowers.
When the strains we loved in the days of yore?No more with their sweetness our heart's-chords thrill,?When Hope's roseate meteors glow no more,?Like the summer sunrise o'er vale and hill,?That our dreamings with radiance were wont to fill.
When these are gone, shall the lone heart know?No solace the solitude's gloom to cheer??Shall no stray beams lighten the spirit's woe?As it moans "alone!" e'en when crowds are near??Must all be lost that was once so dear?
Ah, no! Though Time is a thief, I ween,?Stealing youth's best wealth as the swift years go,?Still the memories of pleasures which once have been--?The dreams of the beautiful "Long ago,"?Are our own to keep, and shall aye be so!
"THE KING IS DEAD."
Hush! There's a solemn pause,?And looks of fear!?You ask--Whence comes the cause??Grim Death is here!
Oh! well thou answerest, well--?'Tis fairly said;?Our hearts thrill to the knell,?"The King is dead!"
Dead! And the bell swings, swings?On in its deep, sad tone;?We own the King of Kings?Is King alone!
We crown our Kings, we place?Bay leaves on victors' brow,?But all our mortal race?Can boast is now.
The body lay in state,?All fair to mortal eye;?The soul's eternal fate--?Oh! Death, thy mystery!
TO "X. Y. Z.,"?On receiving a paper from him.
"Old places have a charm for me?The new can ne'er attain;?Old faces--how I long to see?Their kindly looks again!"--Anon.
"X. Y. Z.," your paper was?A welcome thing, indeed, to me;?It brought the memories of old days,?Like fragrance wafted o'er the sea.
It spake about familiar nooks,?The dear old paths I know so well;?I almost thought I heard the brooks,?Or roamed again my favourite dell.
The happy hours, the rustic glades,?The gloaming time, the twilight stroll,?Ah, me! these April evening shades?With old-time dreams can haunt one's soul.
The heart feels young again and free,?And no such