Poems | Page 7

land,?And the other of the banner
Waved so long from strand to strand.
In the land where Dixie's ensign
Floated o'er the hopeful slave,?Rose the song that freedom's banner,
Starry-lighted, long might wave.
From the fields of strife and carnage,
Gentle thoughts began to roam,?And a tender strain of music?Rose with words of "Home, Sweet Home."
Then the hearts of strong men melted,
For amid our grief and sin?Still remains that "touch of nature,"?Telling us we all are kin.
28 THE PURE IN HEART SHALL SEE GOD.
In one grand but gentle chorus,
Floating to the starry dome,?Came the words that brought them nearer,
Words that told of "Home, Sweet Home."
For awhile, all strife forgotten,
They were only brothers then,?Joining in the sweet old chorus,
Not as soldiers, but as men.
Men whose hearts would flow together,
Though apart their feet might roam,?Found a tie they could not sever,
In the mem'ry of each home.
Never may the steps of carnage
Shake our land from shore to shore,?But may mother, home and Heaven,
Be our watchwords evermore.
THE PURE IN HEART SHALL SEE GOD.
They shall see Him in the crimson flush
Of morning's early light,?In the drapery of sunset,
Around the couch of night.
THE PURE IN HEART SHALL SEE GOD. 29
When the clouds drop down their fatness,
In late and early rain,?They shall see His glorious footprints
On valley, hill and plain.
They shall see Him when the cyclone
Breathes terror through the land;?They shall see Him 'mid the murmurs
Of zephyrs soft and bland.
They shall see Him when the lips of health,
Breath vigor through each nerve,?When pestilence clasps hands with death,
His purposes to serve.
They shall see Him when the trembling earth
Is rocking to and fro;?They shall see Him in the order
The seasons come and go.
They shall see Him when the storms of war
Sweep wildly through the land;?When peace descends like gentle dew
They still shall see His hand.
They shall see Him in the city
Of gems and pearls of light,
30 NOWHERE TO LAY HIS HEAD.
They shall see Him in his beauty,
And walk with Him in white.
To living founts their feet shall tend,
And Christ shall be their guide,?Beloved of God, their rest shall be
In safety by His side.
HE "HAD NOT WHERE TO LAY HIS HEAD."
The conies had their hiding-place,
The wily fox with stealthy tread?A covert found, but Christ, the Lord,
Had not a place to lay his head.
The eagle had an eyrie home,
The blithesome bird its quiet rest,?But not the humblest spot on earth
Was by the Son of God possessed.
Princes and kings had palaces,
With grandeur could adorn each tomb,?For Him who came with love and life,
They had no home, they gave no room.
GO WORK IN MY VINEYARD. 31
The hands whose touch sent thrills of joy
Through nerves unstrung and palsied
frame,?The feet that travelled for our need,
Were nailed unto the cross of shame.
How dare I murmur at my lot,
Or talk of sorrow, pain and loss,?When Christ was in a manger laid,
And died in anguish on the cross.
That homeless one beheld beyond
His lonely agonizing pain,?A love outflowing from His heart,
That all the wandering world would gain.
GO WORK IN MY VINEYARD.
Go work in my vineyard, said the Lord,
And gather the bruised grain;?But the reapers had left the stubble bare,
And I trod the soil in pain.
32 GO WORK IN MY VINEYARD.
The fields of my Lord are wide and broad,
He has pastures fair and green,?And vineyards that drink the golden light
Which flows from the sun's bright sheen.
I heard the joy of the reapers' song,
As they gathered golden grain;?Then wearily turned unto my task,
With a lonely sense of pain.
Sadly I turned from the sun's fierce glare,
And sought the quiet shade,?And over my dim and weary eyes
Sleep's peaceful fingers strayed.
I dreamed I joined with a restless throng,
Eager for pleasure and gain;?But ever and anon a stumbler fell,
And uttered a cry of pain.
But the eager crowd still hurried on,
Too busy to pause or heed,?When a voice rang sadly through my soul,
You must staunch these wounds that bleed.
My hands were weak, but I reached them out
To feebler ones than mine,
RENEWAL OF STRENGTH. 33
And over the shadows of my life
Stole the light of a peace divine.
Oh! then my task was a sacred thing,
How precious it grew in my eyes!?'Twas mine to gather the bruised grain
For the "Lord of Paradise."
And when the reapers shall lay their grain
On the floors of golden light,?I feel that mine with its broken sheaves
Shall be precious in His sight.
Though thorns may often pierce my feet,
And the shadows still abide,?The mists will vanish before His smile,
There will be light at eventide.
RENEWAL OF STRENGTH.
The prison-house in which I live
Is falling to decay,?But God renews my spirit's strength,
Within these walls of clay.
34JAMIE'S PUZZLE.
For me a dimness slowly creeps
Around earth's fairest light,?But heaven grows clearer to my view,
And fairer to my sight.
It may be earth's sweet harmonies
Are duller to my ear,?But music from my Father's house
Begins to float more near.
Then let the pillars of my home
Crumble and fall away;?Lo, God's dear love within my soul
Renews it day by day.
JAMIE'S PUZZLE.
There was grief