The Mountain Spring And Other Poems | Page 3

life he questioned now;?Revealed her history.
She must have blushed. How could he know??Here was a mystery!?Abashed she now replied,?"Thou art a prophet, sir!"?And straightway sought with clannish pride?Instruction's voice to hear;?Instruction that will bless?The world each passing day,?For every spot man's feet may press,?There may he praise and pray.?The woman lent her ear,?Then urged Messiah's plea.?Amazing words she now doth hear,?"I that speak unto thee am he."?What joy! The angels too?Must share it from above.?She left her water-pot, and flew?On feet made swift by love.?Oh, will these tidings last??This news, it must be spread!?"He knows my present, knows my past;?This is the Christ," she said.?That woman lost in sin?Drank of the living spring,?Then swiftly sped dead souls to win,?And to that fountain bring.
Forbid that we should shrink?To publish grace so free,?For all who will that tide may drink?And live eternally.
They begged that he would stay,?Believed the truths unfurled,?And joyfully received that day?The Saviour of the world.
JESUS INTERCEDES
Seeing he ever liveth to make intercession for them.--Hebrews 7:25.
When winding up the path of life,?Sometimes mid thorns, sometimes mid flowers,?Oft weary of its toil and strife,?Oft weary of its wintry hours,?There is one thought than all more sweet?From care my longing heart to free;?'Tis this--oh, wondrous to repeat--?That Jesus intercedes for me.
And always when the path is steep,?I cling unto this wayside rope:?Nothing can give so great relief,?Nothing can give a brighter hope.?'Tis like a stately spreading palm,?Which forms my spirit's canopy,?'Neath which I breathe the soothing balm?That Jesus intercedes for me.
And when I reach the sea of death,?To sail its silent waters o'er,?This thought shall calm my latest breath?And waft me to the golden shore.?Not only that my Savior died,?The atoning lamb on Calvary,?But--was there ever love so wide?--?Still lives and intercedes for me.
EVE'S FLOWERS
Eve must have wept to leave her flowers,?And plucked some roots to tell?Of Eden's happy, sinless bowers,?Where she in bliss did dwell.
Roses and lilies, pansies gay,?Violets with azure eyes,?Her favorites must have been, for they?Seem born in paradise.
And when they drooped, did she not sigh?And kiss their petals fair,?Thinking, "Alas, ye too must die?And in our sorrow share"?
And then perhaps unto her soul?This answer sweet was given,?"Like you we fade and perish here;?For you we'll bloom in heaven."
Roses and lilies are the type?Of him who from above,?The lamb of God, gave up his life,?A sacrifice of love.
He was her hope in those sad hours?Of blight and sure decay;?The sin that drove her from her flowers?His blood could wash away.
COME UNTO ME
"Come unto me!" Ah, gentlest word?E'er breathed in human ear!?"I am thy Savior and thy Lord;?Dear child, thou need'st not fear.
"Come unto me in sorrow's hour?When life seems dark and drear;?I'll shield thee from the tempter's power;?Dear child, thou need'st not fear.
"Come unto me when hopes have flown?Like leaves wind-swept and sere,?When every joy thou may'st bemoan;?Dear child, thou need'st not fear.
"Come unto me. I'll give thee rest,?Will wipe away each tear;?Come lean thy head upon my breast;?Dear child, thou need'st not fear."
NOVEMBER
But let all those that put their trust in thee rejoice.--Psalm 5:11.
November is so drear and chill?Whilst making leafless branch and tree,?Whilst sweeping over vale and hill?With all her doleful minstrelsy.?November wails the summer's death?In such a melancholy voice,?She has a withering, blighting breath;?She does not bid the heart rejoice.
Yet why repine, thou stricken one??Grief is the common fate of all.?This the refrain beneath the sun:?Mortals must die, and leaves must fall.?They'll live again, the leaves and flowers,?When spring returns to bless the earth;?They'll waken 'neath her sunny hours?Through nature's touch to beauteous birth.
Hope in decay and do not moan?That God has taken one we love:?Why should our hearts be turned to stone?When he is safe in heaven above??Redeemed through Christ, who was his trust,?With him in realms of joy on high;?For though down here "'tis dust to dust,"?The Christian lives beyond the sky.
Then in the autumn's woe rejoice,--?Rejoice in calm, rejoice in storm;?In either hear God's tender voice,?For both his holy will perform.
THE TRAVELERS
Away from the city, away from the crowd,?Two comrades in sorrow traversed hill and dale;?The gloom of their hearts did their faces enshroud,?And clouds of distress only seemed to prevail.
Alone, as they thought; but a stranger unknown?Inquired thus kindly the cause of their woe:?"Of what are ye talking? Why are ye cast down,?So burdened with care, as thus onward ye go?"
Cleopas thus answered, "A stranger art thou?In Jerusalem, not knowing the things happening there?"?"What things?" asked the stranger, desiring now?Their lips should disclose what had caused their despair.
"Of Jesus of Nazareth, one mighty in deed,?A wonderful prophet; him have they slain.?To Israel's redemption we hoped he would lead,?But why should we hope if hope is in vain?
"Some women who went to the sepulcher say?That angels assured them he's living this hour,?But they did not see him, and try as we may,?It seems