The Mountain Spring And Other Poems | Page 5

Nannie R. Glass
o'er the deserts wild

Those who had journeyed from afar
To gaze upon the sinless child!
O Bethlehem, 'twas thine to see
God's choir announce the Saviour's
birth,
And hear those waves of melody
Chant peace and good will
to the earth!
O Bethlehem, 'twas thine to weep
With Rachel o'er the crimson woe

When cruel hands did vainly seek
To quench heaven's radiance
below!

O Bethlehem, we hear thy call
To joy and bliss, and would not cease

To praise him who has died for all
Who will accept his
blood-bought peace!
RING THE BELLS
Ring out the bells of heaven!
Obey the great command,
That all
may hear their melody
On mountain, sea, and land,
The chimes of
glory sounding,
Ascending to the sky;
Jesus our Savior reigneth

Forever more on high.
Ring how he bore our trials
And sorrows here below;
Of his
lamb-like, sinless nature,
Purer than falling snow;
How he gave his
life to banish
The clouds of midnight gloom
That brooded o'er
creation
And o'er the dreary tomb.
Ring of the well of Sichar
And the everlasting tide,
With which its
sparkling waters
His imagery supplied.
Ring of his mighty power

To comfort and to heal,
His gentleness and sympathy
In either woe
or weal.
Ring of his blood that speaketh
Than Abel's, better things,
And to
the guilty conscience
Sweet peace and pardon brings.
Ring how he
burst death's fetters
In rising from the grave,
And from its lasting
bondage
Will all his people save.
Ring how he intercedeth
And ever lives above
For all who trust and
serve him,
Rejoicing in his love;
Of the many mansions he's
prepared
Of everlasting rest,
Whose joys no tongue can utter
Nor
tell how glad and blest.
Awake, then, to your duty,
O church of Christ, awake!

Behold the
beauty of their feet
Who the glad tidings take!
Reach out and ring
the bells of heaven;
Blest be the hands that give
The truth, that all
who listen
May hope and joy and live!
Ah, 'tis a wondrous story!


Good news to all the world!
The gospel means glad tidings

Wherever 'tis unfurled.
Great God, impart thy Spirit
That all who love their Lord
May see
in life a flitting hour
To obey and speak his word.
THE DESERT SPRING
"Oh, no, my lord, she cannot stay;
Cast out this bond maid with her
mocking child,
For they cannot be heirs with thine and mine."

Abraham was sad, for he had prayed, "O God,
That Ishmael may
dwell within thy sight!"
And now the message came to him, "Fear not!

In all that Sarah says list to her voice.
In Isaac shall thy seed be
called. Also
I'll make of Hagar's son a nation great,
Because he
sprang from thee."
Then Abraham rose
At early dawn, and lading Egypt's child
With
water and with bread, sent her grief-worn
With Ishmael to wander
lone within
Beersheba's wilderness. While yet the air
Was cool, and
nature locked in the embrace
Of morn, likely the child was blithe and
gay,
Unheeding the sad face and drooping form
Of her who
doubtless turned from childhood's tents
In tears of woe.
Thrilled with his Arab blood
He raced along; and thus to fancy's ear

He prattled on: "O mother, do not weep!
The Princess Sarah cannot
chide us now.
We're free! I love the wilderness! I love
The earth
and sky! Look at those birds,
Far as the fleecy clouds! And here

Are flowers with which to wreathe my bow.
With it I'll bring thee
deer and fowl to dress,
When by and by we reach a babbling stream

Where we may safely dwell."
On, still on,
Through arid plains, with blistering feet,
Beneath a
burning sky, they toil along.
The lad no longer talks of birds and
flowers,
But begs for water--water just to cool
His parching throat;

and likely 'twas that when
Noon's shadows mirrored the encircling
hills,
He saw the empty flask, and must at last
Have fainted on the
scorching sand.
We read
That Hagar cast him 'neath a shrub, and then,
Withdrawing
quite a space, she prayed, "O God,
Let me not see his death!" and so
sank down
Upon the ground to watch him where he lay,
And wept
such tears as touched the world on high
With sympathy divine. God
heard the lad,
And from his radiant home an angel spake:
"What
aileth thee, O Hagar? Rise and take
The lad, and stand him on his feet.
I'll make
Of him a nation great." Her eyes were opened;
And she
saw a well, from which with joyful haste
She filled her flask and gave
the weakling lad
A draught which gave him back to health
And life
again.
Water!--a type of Christ,
God's son, that whosoever will may drink

That everflowing stream of love and live
Eternally! The angel's
prophecy foretold
Those countless hordes, those tented caravans,

Whose graceful steeds have plied through centuries past Those barren,
trackless wastes; some of the men
Who, Egypt-bound with spicery
and balm,
Halted beside the lonely pit, and bartered there
For that
young lad whose coat dyed in the blood
Of kids, made Jacob with
wild agony exclaim,
"This is my Joseph's coat! He has, no doubt,

Been rent in twain by beasts!"
The wanderers soon
Lay down to rest, 'neath starry skies to wait

Another dawn, and on the mother's face
There must have been a light
of joy divine;
For had she not held intercourse with Heaven?
Were
not its guardian bands
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