Voyages and
Verses
This is a
book written by Brother Bernard Fell who went Home to be with His Lord on October 11,
1997. He had served the Lord faithfully in the Bahamas, England and in the United
States as well. We trust that these poems will be a blessing to all who read them.
Brother Mark & Sister Carol Lacey (Brother Fell's son-in-law and daughter) were
gracious to give us permission to publish this.
Please
click on the passage or title to automatically go to that Poem.
Till I come, give attendance to reading,
to exhortation, to doctrine
I Timothy 4:13
Books that live are dear companions
To the heart and mind at rest;
Close at hand to help and succour,
Choose the richest and the best.
Time is short with life's commitments
To enjoy, alas, but few
Of the countless, useful volumes,
Safe, uplifting, classic, true.
Works that leave a marked impression,
Passing through this world of strife;
Gems of thought, poetic treasures
To enrich the inner life.
Read with care the lives of great men
Now embalmed in printed page;
Their brave spirit still inspiring
Other souls from age to age.
Shun the worthless, trashy novel
Steeped in thoughts of sordid kind,
Leaving careless, shallow readers
Dwarfed in culture, stained in mind.
Often draped with harmless titles,
Subtle, vapid, full of vice,
These dark pages lure the masses:
Cheap in matter, cheap in price.
Prize with joy the Holy Bible,
In a thousand tongues now read;
Secret of an Empire's greatness--
So its gracious Queen once said.
God inspired the gifted writers,
All the best who trod this earth,
Prophet, priest, apostle, monarch,
Penned this book of priceless worth.
On its first page 'tis well written,
When acquainted with the author
God's command, "Let there be light."
Ev'ry promise throbs with love
Thus illumed, none need to stumble,
And each page reflects His wisdom,
Though the path be dark as night.
Guiding us to heav'n above.
Carry down the man a present. . .
and a little honey.
Genesis 43:11
The sons of Jacob wend their way
To buy the needed corn;
The home bereft of Benjamin,
The old man left to mourn.
With extra money in their hand
He sent a present meet--
Nuts, spices, balm, and luscious fruits,
A little honey sweet.
But little knew the Patriarch,
That kindly act to bless,
Was lavished on his precious son,
Long lost in deep distress.
And Joseph's tender heart was moved,
A place to weep he sought,
When gazing on his mother's son,
And touched by Jacob's thought.
Great works of art emblazed abroad
A lifetime may have planned;
But countless deeds are well performed
By love's unconscious hand.
From seeds of kindness sown by grace,
The fruit we may not see;
Our heav'nly Joseph will declare--
"Ye did it unto Me".
Unknown, unsung, and oft unprized,
One day these deeds below,
With final touches of love's hand,
A masterpiece will show.
A cheerful word with sunlit smile,
A weary soul to greet,
And errands for the helpless sick
With swift and willing feet.
Conspicuous acts command the view,
Like oaks that mark the glade;
But violets sweet of common blue
Smile brightly in the shade.
So in our humble sphere of life,
Cheer all the souls we meet;
With Jacob's thought bring into lives--
A little honey sweet.
She hath done what she could; she is come
aforehand to anoint My body to the burying.
Mark 14:8
'Twas love both pure and tender,
As Jesus sat at meat,
Which braved the heartless critics
With true devotion sweet.
The precious, costly ointment
She lavished on His head
Was treasured for the living,
While others-for the dead.
No kinder words are spoken
Than those around the tomb,
Amassed with floral tributes
Of ev'ry hue and bloom.
Friends pay respect with rev'rence
As eulogies are said,
Expressing deep condolence
In mem'ry of the dead.
Unheard the words well-spoken,
To sleeping ones unblest;
Sweet flowers have no perfume
For those who quietly rest.
Kind tokens of affection
Soon vanish like a dream,
With all the costly beauty
In realms of death unseen.
O break that box of ointment,
Reserved intact for time,
And let its pleasant fragrance
Make present lives sublime.
Then gently smooth life's pillow
To rest the weary head;
'Tis now they need your comfort--
The living, not the dead!
Speak now that word of kindness
To lift a heart oppressed!
'Tis worth more than ten thousand
'Neath shades of death expressed.
Kind acts, like simple posies,
Live on and never fade;
More scented than the roses
Upon the casket laid.
He that is without sin among you,
let him first cast a stone at her.
John 8:7
Friendless, condemned, the outcast stood,
Arrested by the scornful Jews;
But Jesus read their hostile thoughts
It was Himself they would accuse.
Ah, Justice spake from mercy's throne--
"Who ne'er hath sinned first cast a stone."
With conscience seized by guilty fear,
The stern accusers disappear.
Ne'er blaze abroad another's sin,
Nor seek to wield reprisal's sword;
Let grace abound, but not condone,
Be stern in judgment on your own.
The man who never went astray
Hath never seen the light of day;
And he who hath no error made,
Hath ne'er made ought for human aid.
There was a Man, O praise His name,
Who could unique distinction claim;
In all His ways He never erred,
Retraced a step, recalled a word.
With Love incarnate as their Friend,
Shun not, nor scorn, with legal trend,
Nor cause the fallen added pain,
For with God's help they rise again.
Giving thanks always for all things
unto God and the Father
in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ.
Ephesians 5:20
'Twas mealtime in the children's ward;
One little patient's name was Fred;
The smiling orderly conveyed
A tray of good things to each bed.
The child sat still with lunch untouched,
So nurse's cheerful voice was heard,
"Come now, my dear, 'tis good to eat
The special food for you prepared".
Though hungry, yet he tarried still,
And then was asked the reason why;
With puckered brow, and troubled look,
"Nurse, who says grace, do you, or I?"
Touched by this artless reprimand,
"We'll say it now", she wisely said,
And then recalled 'twas long ago
She thanked the Lord for daily bread.
How many fail as years increase
Ere each repast to bow the head;
If you're remiss, O start today,
And by a little child be led.
With scorn some thankless folk declare--
"I buy my food, I pay my bills!"
God owns the silver and the gold,
The cattle on a thousand hills.
Who gave the springing seed its life,
The sun and shower to swell the grain?
Who clothes with flocks the pastures green,
And satisfies thy mouth again?
Tis He Who day by day bestows
To ev'ry living thing its meat;
He waits to bless, 'tis ours to give
A word of thanks next time we eat!
O death, where is thy sting?
O grave, where is thy victory?
I Corinthians 15:55
Roland, darling precious grandson!
How I love to watch him play!
Pretty smiles like dancing sunbeams
Warm my heart along life's way.
Born was he, like brother Andrew,
In fair England's summer hours,
Born to love the season's beauty,
Singing birds, and springing flowers.
One June day was hot and humid,
Sparrows chirped among the trees,
Calling children to the open,
Green the carpet, cool the breeze.
Gently placed within the play-pen,
'Neath a cloudless, azure sky,
Roland played in golden sunshine
With a gentle stream nearby.
Now there came a wayward insect,
Buzzing warlike through the air,
Leaving flowery work to trespass
On the child's domain four-square.
So amid his changing pleasures,
Hugging, flinging various toys,
Roland thought the striped intruder
Could be added to those joys!
But this four-winged interloper
Welcomed not the childish glee;
She had left the realm of sweetness
To become a teasing bee!
Of the danger quite unconscious,
Roland thought the fun was grand,
Till a tiny, painful arrow
Pricked the chubby, velvet hand.
Then was nature s balmy stillness
Rent by sharp and bitter cries:
With love's balm to soothe and comfort,
Mother wiped the tearful eyes.
There emerged some consolation
Out of fear, distress, and pain:
For that naughty bee shall never
Sting another child again.
Ah, methinks how death alighted
On the children's Friend and King:
Its sharp pow'r can never hurt them,
On the cross He felt its sting.
'Tis His will that all the children,
Little Roland, Andrew sweet,
Gathered by His hand once wounded,
Dwell forever round His feet.
In everything give thanks;
for this is the will of God
in Christ Jesus concerning you.
I Thessalonians 5:18
"Your money or your life", the mounted robber cried:
The night was dark, the stars shone bright, a lonely spot beside.
The preacher, homeward bound, reluctantly obeyed;
Erect upon his faithful steed, his heart was unafraid.
Now in life's changing scenes, pleasant or untoward,
God's Word exhorts in ev'rything give thanks unto the Lord;
On this the preacher mused, and found four things of note
To thank the Lord in this distress, and in his diary wrote--
I render thanks to God, and praise Him more and more,
Though I have traveled many years, I've ne'er been robbed before!
I render thanks to God-the man with gun and knife
By force absconded with my purse, but didn't take my life!
I render thanks to God, 'tis true he took my all,
But since my treasures are in heav'n, the coins purloined were small!
I render thanks to God with this he almost sobbed--
I was the one the bandit robbed, not I, by grace, who robbed!
In ev'ry phase of life, 'tis not so hard to find
A cause in this oft thoughtless world to thank our God so kind:
In sunshine or in storm, in sickness or in health,
In days of triumph or defeat, in poverty or wealth.
Let brotherly love continue.
Hebrews 13:1
"Bear ye one another's burdens,
So fulfil the law of Christ."
Love that stooped from highest glory
To the cross, and sacrificed.
All the sorrow of the ages,
All the sin since time began.
Love endured, and love begetting,
Lives anew in mortal man.
Love is faith in living practice,
Kindled most in fires of pain:
Drawn by its magnetic power,
Broken hearts revive again.
Love will wipe the tears of others,
When deep sorrow fills the breast,
Making calm the hidden vortex
By the sympathy expressed.
Love is happiness incarnate,
Walking in the path of need:
Swift of foot to do a kindness,
Ready lips in prayer to plead:
Willing hands to share a burden,
Help another o'er the stile:
Love will make the lonesome journey,
Shorter by its lovely smile.
Love is sweetly self-forgetful.
Shining brightly as the sun;
Yet it sinks in meek effacement
When its gracious work is done.
There may be no earthly record
Of its deeds in halls of fame:
All in heaven now recorded,
Shall receive heav'n's full acclaim.
O the love that passeth knowledge!
Let that love our souls constrain,
With a constancy unshaken,
Other lives for Christ to gain.
Vital in His sight-this service,
Ev'ry soul a precious gem,
Wooed and won to shine forever
In Love's dazzling diadem!
Out of the mouths of babes and sucklings
Thou hast perfected praise.
Matthew 21:16
Andrew brightens days of gloom
When he sings with face aglow;
Sweet the theme of his first lay--
"Jesus loves me, this I know."
Fearless in his unreserve.
What though singers do appear?
They encourage with a smile,
Deaf to faults the well-tuned ear!
Melodies may be revised,
Stanzas may not always rhyme,
But the tune is carried well,
Set to Andrew's special time!
Vocal stars in classic style
Sang their arias to a king;
Sweeter far this simple lisp,
With the joy a child can bring.
Gathered round the Saviour's feet,
Loud hosannas children sang;
But the leaders were displeased
As the temple praises rang.
Jesus spake when they complained,
"From the lips of even babes-
Have ye never read this word?-
God hath perfected His praise."
Youthful voices never quench
In a world so full of wrong;
Heaven and earth would poorer be,
If arose no infant song.
Jesus, one day in the midst,
Set a child and taught that we,
In forgiveness, faith, and love,
Childlike only, ever be.
Keep thy heart with all diligence:
for out of it are the issues of life.
Proverbs 4:23
He lived in "Grumble Alley",
The house called "Discontent",
And loved the critic's armchair,
Where gloomy hours were spent.
He looked for deep perfection
In ev'ryone, but self!
Complaints-his daily menu,
And misery his wealth!
He lived in "Happy Valley",
The house called "Sunnydale";
He never seemed downhearted,
Come snow, or rain, or gale.
His smiles were like the sunflowers,
Which in his garden grew,
And, like the birds befriended,
He was as happy, too!
These diverse dispositions
Reveal the state of heart:
This spring within determines
The streams that cheer or smart.
Its flow can be spasmodic
In grumpy, fretful ways.
Or in a steady current,
O'erflow with love and praise.
The sunshine still can filter
Through heavy, driving rain,
And paint a radiant rainbow
On low'ring clouds of pain.
The joy of Christ unfailing
Can shine through falling tears,
Imparting warmth to others,
Dispelling dismal fears.
Thanksgiving is thanksliving,
An atmosphere of praise;
In this pure air move freely
In calm or stormy days.
Sighs, then, are turned to singing,
Complaints forever cease,
And as for wretched grumbling-
None mourn its quick decease!
Though our outward man perish,
yet the inward man
is renewed day by day
2 Corinthians 4:16
Months are passing, years are fleeting;
Lo! the hair is turning grey,
And the step is not so sprightly
As in youth's more vigorous day.
This old tenement is crumbling,
Grinders cease: for they are few;
Doors are closing in the gloaming,
Darkened windows dim the view.
But the aged saint is happy,
Though the house is past repair;
Christ now lives within the dwelling,
And the dew of youth is there.
Age is like a golden harvest,
All the past laid up in store;
Full the barn of precious mem'ries
Ere we reach the distant shore.
Deeds of love in early morning,
For declining years abide;
Kindly smiles like rays of sunshine,
Beam in life's late eventide.
Seeds of goodness sown at noontime
To enrich the lives of all,
Like the bread cast on the waters,
Shall be found when shadows fall.
While life's sun is slowly setting,
Let us now possess the West;
Heav'n is nearer, faith is richer,
And the afterglow is best!
Let your speech be always with grace,
seasoned with salt.
Colossians 4:6
There's no weapon so destructive
In the armoury of life,
Nor a poison half so potent
As the little tongue of strife.
Ships are guided by small rudder,
Bit and bridle turn a horse,
But this active, boasting member
E'en can change a nation's course!
Man subdued the roaring lion,
And controlled the stubborn ass,
Yet the tongue is still unconquered,
Hasty, overbold, and rash.
Can the same fount, clear as crystal,
Send forth streams both salt and sweet?
Words of blessing, words distressing,
From the same lips often meet!
Idle talk reveals a secret
Love's discretion would conceal;
Hidden thoughts and ruling passions,
Clothed with words, the heart reveal.
Tongues unhealthy, furred with gossip,
Spread with relish rumours wild;
Speaker, hearer, and the victim
Are affected and defiled.
If our words in heav'n recorded
Were replayed to greet our ears,
What would be our swift reaction?
Joy or sorrow, smiles or tears?
O the sweetness of God's pardon
When confession's voice is heard!
Then erased will be the record
Of each vain and useless word.
Let sound speech be ever seasoned
With the salt of faithfulness:
Grace and truth in even balance,
Blended with meek gentleness.
Words that magnify the Saviour,
Words in season, 0 how good!
Then the tongue, a pow'r for Nessing,
Will be sanctified for God.
God loveth a cheerful giver.
2 Corinthians 9:7
"What would you do," yon man was asked,
"If a small fortune came your way?"
"Why, gladly give the half," he said,
"For gospel work without delay."
"What would you do if you possessed
Two prosperous farms with fertile ground?"
"Why, I would part with one to feed,
And clothe the needy all around."
"One question more, have you, perchance,
A suit of clothes to give away?"
"You ask too much," the man replied,
"I have but two, a serge and grey!"
'Tis easier far to generous be
With fancied wealth in golden dreams;
To lavish from one's present store
Is ten times harder, so it seems!
"Give till it hurts." But giving true
Should never cause such inward pain!
Trustees are we of all God's gifts,
Who gave His all, and gives again.
For all the wealth grace has bestowed,
A debt of gratitude we owe:
God claims our talents, means, and time,
Our very best while here below.
Behold the fowls of the air . .
are ye not much better than they?
Matthew 6:26
We have occasional callers,
But many feathered friends;
Still more with Afric's warblers
When dreary winter ends;
They fill the air with music,
Some sing and others screech,
And in their care for offspring,
To many-lessons teach.
The bold and perky sparrow
Outnumbers all the rest;
The friendly robin redbreast
We seem to love the best.
Here comes the plump wood-pigeon
From fields with well-filled crop;
The blackbird and his brownie,
Who sing. and peck, and hop.
The rude and selfish starling,
Who flies to town to rest;
The graceful, long-tailed magpie,
Who robs another's nest:
The thrush, a speckled songster,
And many more we know;
Whoever can be lonely
With friends who come and go?
We pardon thieves in plumage
Who nip the cherry tree,
For pests, the gard'ner's worry,
We seldom ever see.
For birds be ever thankful,
Though farmers sometimes fear;
Without this avian service,
Lean harvests would appear.
Our friends appear well-nourished:
For God feeds one and all,
And watching o'er them daily,
He notes the sparrow's fall.
His people are more precious
Than fowls that flit the sky,
So, if they're over-anxious,
The birds may well ask, "Why?"
Preach the Word;
be instant in season,
out of season.
2 Timothy 4:2
When Sunday was kept, God's sweet day of rest,
In happy times past, the brightest and best,
Our parents decreed, come wind, rain, or snow,
Their dutiful children to Sunday school go.
We gathered on time, our teacher was fair;
No Bible appeared, the boys can declare;
With "Uncle Tom's Cabin," her text-book, alas,
A few chosen chapters she read to the class.
Among the poor slaves, none nobler was found;
Tom's spirit so brave, could never be bound,
Till death's kindly hand from sad torture set free,
From cruelty incarnate-that monster Legree.
Our feelings were stirred. but not by God's Word;
From that holy Book no message was heard,
Which tells of a thralldom more bitter within,
A tyrant more ruthless-the bondage of sin.
Sweet comfort it brings to poor dying slaves,
A gospel of hope from Jesus Who saves;
A captive Himself when impaled on a tree,
Bequeathed by His dying the song of the free.
How could that fair lass the Bible displace?
A two-edged Sword, the Word of His grace;
It shines like a beacon till God's work is done;
Earth's authors are candles compared with the sun.
The Scriptures live on: O let them now speak
A word to the weary, the strong or the weak.
This Book of rare treasures transcends in its worth,
All libr'ies combined, and all writings on earth.
But this I say, brethren, the time is short.
1 Corinthians 7:29
The preacher's voice rang true and clear,
A Christ-exalting theme;
The congregation sat enthralled,
And none could idly dream.
There was a stickler for the time
Among that favoured flock,
And if the sermon was prolonged,
His eyes strayed to the clock.
His pocket-watch confirmed the hour;
He twirled the silver chain,
And if the discourse did not stop,
Out came the watch again.
The preacher spake within himself,
"This practice I resent;"
And when the timepiece reappeared,
This well-aimed arrow sent-
"Your watch, dear sir, please put away,
I do not speak on time!
Eternity I preach today,
More solemn, yet sublime."
How short the span of this vain life!
How long eternity!
Yet one brief moment's choice decides
The soul's true destiny.
Accept the Christ, then thou art safe
To cross time's border-line,
Into a realm of blessedness,
Where endless glories shine.
Where have ye laid him?
They said unto Him
Lord, come and see.
Jesus wept.
John 11:34,35
Jesus comes, a Friend unfailing,
To a stone-sealed, cheerless cave,
With deep comfort for the mourners
Standing by a brother's grave.
"Jesus wept". O see reflected
In that lovely, tear-stained face,
Sympathy and kind compassion
Mingled with His love and grace.
Why that sight of deepest mourning,
When from that dark cavern bed,
With the joy of sweet reunion,
He would shortly raise the dead?
Ah, affliction like a ploughshare
Cut deep furrows in His soul;
Sin and death in cruel rampage
He beheld while ages roll.
Broken hearts of untold millions,
Homes now emptied of their best:
Sensitive to others' sorrows,
Jesus mourned, and Jesus wept.
Think not, ye who grieve, of loved ones
Buried in the chilly ground;
Plucked as lilies from life's garden,
Rich in glory they abound.
Taken from this world's cold winter-
For the Gard'ner's will is best-
By His tender hand transplanted
In the sunny bowers of rest.
Jesus speaks! the grave's great Spoiler!
At His call the dead arise;
In the coming blest reunion
He will wipe all tear-filled eyes.
And it came to pass...
Luke 20:1
It came to pass-the cheerless night;
The morning breaks with roseate light;
The sunbeams dance with sparkling dew,
And bathe the earth with golden hue.
It came to pass-the tempest wild,
With nature calmed like sleeping child;
The billows cease to leap and roar,
And gentle wavelets lap the shore.
It came to pass-the winter's blast,
And welcome Spring appears at last;
The season smiles with flowers gay,
The singing birds proclaim the day.
It came to pass- the sorrow deep,
The reddened eyes now cease to weep;
And underneath, God's loving arms
Now rest the soul and quell alarms.
It came to pass the heavy care
That seemed beyond the strength to bear,
Till shared by One on yonder throne
Who bore the greatest burden known.
It came to pass-the shattering blow,
Which taught the troubled heart to know
A deeper sense of God's great grace,
The rainbow in the storm to trace.
It came to pass-this changeful life,
And soon will end the battle strife,
When Jesus comes, or death draws near:
Begone for aye all doubt and fear.
No death nor sorrow, tears nor pain,
No curse nor night return again;
The former things are passed away-
At Home with Christ through endless Day.
Is not this the Carpenter?
Mark 6:3
The Carpenter of Nazareth!
"Who is He?" was the cry;
"Whence hath this Man this wisdom deep?"
His mighty works reply-
The Healer of all dread disease,
Controller of the sea,
Who flung a trillion stars in space,
The Sovereign Lord is He!
Yet in that humble shop He toiled
With hammer, plane, and saw;
And many a needed useful thing
Passed through that Joiner's door.
How perfect was the work He wrought
With skillfulness of hand!
No carpentry was e'er like that,
No workmanship so grand!
The world is like a joiner's shop;
His hands still work anew
To make lives useful for the tasks
He has assigned to do.
With utmost care He seeks the trees
The tempests have withstood;
The storms that test will but enhance
The graining of the wood.
Hark! in the Master Craftsman's shop
The sound of tools is heard,
The saw of discipline at work,
The hammer of His Word;
Love's gentle plane smooths out the way
His purpose to fulfil;
The tenon of our life must fit
The mortise of His will.
O take this poor material, Lord,
Thy gracious work begin,
Until Thy likeness is ingrained
Indelibly within.
Then in a world so deep in need,
Fresh from Thy hand to be,
Useful, sincere, without veneer,
An instrument for Thee.
Now if we be dead with Christ,
we believe that we shall
also live with Him.
Romans 6:8
Downward flows the shining Jordan
From Mount Hermon's lofty height,
Like a flood in time of harvest,
Who can stay its watery might?
On its banks the host of Israel,
With their faithful captain stand,
For the river must be parted,
'Tis Jehovah's firm command.
When the ark, the ark of covenant,
Borne by priests with feet unshod.
Reached the margin of the river,
Waters parted where they trod.
Say, what ailed thee, O thou Jordan?
Thou didst stand upon a heap!
While the people clean passed over,
Through thy solid, swollen deep.
From the heights of heav'nly splendour,
Downward, downward, Jesus came;
God Himself, the great Descender,
To the lowest place of shame.
Passing through both death and judgment,
Waves and billows, cold and deep,
Who can comprehend His anguish?
Who can measure all His grief?
O what ailed Thee, precious Saviour?
'Twas the bearing of our sin,
'Twas the lonely, sad forsaking.
Our poor stubborn hearts to win.
Now redemption's work is finished,
Death and judgment are behind,
Life, and peace, and full salvation
In Thyself Thy people find.
Canaan now our present portion,
Clean passed over, is the word,
To enjoy each fruitful promise
Till the Advent shout is heard.
And the stones swept o'er by Jordan,
With the twelve on yonder side,
Speak of death and resurrection,
With the Christ identified.
Dead with Christ to all that hinders,
Dead to self, the world, and sin;
For the cross is heav'n's gateway
To a deeper life within.
Risen with Christ in full committal,
Earth's attractions now grow dim,
And the more we die, yes, daily,
So the more we live in Him.
The wind . . .
Thou canst not tell whence it cometh,
and whither it goeth;
so is every one that is born of the Spirit.
John 3:8
How strange, mysterious is the wind!
Its changeful moods we know;
We cannot tell from whence it comes,
Or whither it shall go.
List to its sound o'er land and sea
It whistles round the mast,
Soft zephyrs sigh among the trees,
But howl in stormy blast.
It purifies polluted air,
And germs are driven away;
Small birds are winged to higher heights
When chased by hawk or jay.
The heav'nly birth, as Jesus taught,
Is like this unseen pow'r;
The mighty change is felt and known
In faith's most joyful hour.
The Spirit's work transforms the life,
And purifies the soul;
It lifts to heav'n on wings of love,
And takes complete control.
Awake, north wind, and come thou south,
Upon my garden blow;
And let the fragrance of the Christ
In love and worship flow.
In Thine hand is not there power and might,
so that none is able to withstand Thee?
2 Chronicles 20:6
Insatiate hordes, with cries of hate,
March on to Judah's land,
Like ravening wolves to seize the prey,
Unnumbered as the sand.
Jehoshaphat, the godly king,
With fasting sought the Lord,
Ere he five armies called to war,
Or drew a gleaming sword.
From burning lips and trustful heart
Ascends a humble prayer,
While Judah stood before the Lord
With hope and not despair.
"We have no might against this foe,
Encroaching by the sea,
But in Thy hand is power and might,
Our eyes look up to Thee."
Jahaziel, with blazing eyes,
The Spirit's words conveyed;
"The battle is not yours, but God's;
Fear not, nor be dismayed.
The Lord is with thee; go at dawn
To meet this desperate foe;
Ye need not fight, but stand ye still,
Salvation thou shalt know."
The army moves with unseen pow'r,
With song and not with sword;
"His mercy shall endure for aye,
O praise, O praise the Lord."
While hallelujahs fill the air,
Jehovah intervened;
In fright the foe was slain by foe,
And Judah was redeemed.
When subtle foes invade the soul,
What pow'r can bring relief?
The Moabite is selfishness,
And Ammon--unbelief.
Let earnest prayers to God ascend,
To Him all pow'r belongs,
And as you conquer in the fight,
Extol the Lord with songs.
We do not well;
this is a day of good tidings,
and we hold our peace.
2 Kings 7:9
Four lepers in Samaria lay
Outside the city gate,
And shared the rigour of the siege
In their unhappy state.
Encircled by Benhadad's hosts,
Like wolves to seize the prey,
While famine stalks with sharper teeth
The multitude to slay.
In desperate plight they reasoned thus-
"Why sit we here to die?
There's food enough in Syrian camp,
While we in hunger lie!
Perchance, our lives may well be spared
If to the host we go,
And if they kill, we shall but die,
By hunger or by foe."
As day was fading into night,
The Syrian sentries heard
The sound of chariots drawing near,
And quickly passed the word.
It was Jehovah's unseen pow'r,
Which gripped the host with fright,
They left their food, their wealth, their all,
In wild disordered flight.
The fearful lepers reached the camp,
And, lo, no man was there!
They flew upon the glitt'ring spoil,
And supped on Syrian fare.
"We do not well,' '--their conscience spake,
"While death the hungry choose,
Ere morning light in haste we go
To share the glorious news."
Another king this world besieged,
To starve and blight the race,
Whom Jesus on the cross o'ercame
By dying in our place.
He satisfies the longing soul,
And gives the Living Bread,
With all the good things grace supplies,
His table's richly spread.
In ev'ry continent and dime,
The hungry still are there;
We do not well to hold our peace,
Good tidings we must bear.
Though many starve and will not come,
For want of appetite,
The plenty of God's love abounds,
And will till Morning Light.
God made two great lights . . .
the lesser light to rule the night.
Genesis 1:16
God set the moon in orbit,
Earth's beaming satellite,
Revolving on her monthly course
With silv'ry, borrowed light.
With twinkling stars, her royal crown,
She rules the night as queen;
Looks downward on a troubled world,
Unruffled and serene.
To visit her dominions,
Intrepid space-men rise
To walk the unknown lunar way;
A daring enterprise!
Success achieved--this message left,
Inscribed upon a plaque,
"We come in peace for all mankind."
Then journeyed safely back!
The earth, divinely ordered,
Is man's appointed sphere:
No fruitful seasons, harvests ripe,
Upon the moon appear.
Though richly blest, his sin deprived
All right on earth to stay:
To other worlds he may aspire,
Death's call he must obey.
The Lord of all creation
Set foot upon the earth!
He came in peace for all mankind,
A holy, lowly birth.
The greatest mission ever known;
The cost? His precious blood!
Man's sins upon the cross He bore,
Ere He returned to God.
God's wondrous love and mercy
Devised this marvellous plan:
Above terrestrial sin and woe,
Prepared a home for man.
Past sun, and moon, the Milky Way,
Beyond the range of space,
Swifter than light His own shall take
To heav'n, His dwelling-place.
O ye who thirst for knowledge.
Where man can never dwell,
Yet have no place in heav'n above,
With joys no tongue can tell:
O ye who seek this costly prize,
A rocky, airless moon,
Neglect no longer God's free gift,
And heav'n's far greater boon!
And now men see not the
bright light which is in the clouds.
Job 37:21
The world is full of trouble,
And storms still thunder loud;
But see! O soul discouraged,
The bright light in the cloud.
The sun still shines unhindered,
Serene in dazzling might;
No earth-born mist arising
Can quench its wealth of light.
E'en when this orb of splendour
Sinks in the shades of night,
The clouds are flushed with crimson,
And fringed with golden light.
So, when the days are dreary,
And storms of life oppress,
Look up! there shines above thee
The Sun of Righteousness.
His cheering rays of comfort
Will scatter doubts and fears,
And make from gloom and sadness,
A rainbow of your tears.
In lands where skies are shadowed,
The grass is sweeter green:
In clouds, not always sunshine,
Triumphant faith is seen.
The world is full of trouble,
But soon the King of kings
Shall come in clouds of glory,
With healing in His wings.
Wherefore, sirs, be of good cheer:
for I believe God.
Acts 27:25
The tempest raged, the surges rolled,
The ship was sorely tossed
Upon the ocean's heaving breast,
With hope entirely lost.
Fast driven by the howling winds,
Torn sails and battered mast,
A voice of cheer, rang firm and clear
Above the stormy blast.--
"There stood beside me this dark night,
The Angel of the Lord:
'Fear not,' said He, 'for God will save
All souls with thee on board.'
Sirs, I believe the God I serve,
So be ye of good cheer;
With shattered ship we must be cast
Upon an island near."
Thus spake the pris'ner of the Lord,
And, like a central calm,
His words amid the hurricane
Allayed the crew's alarm.
The boat was wrecked: some swam to shore,
Some clung to driftwood found:
Two hundred, three-score, sixteen souls--
All landed safe and sound.
The world sails gaily like a ship;
The south wind softly blows;
"Peace, peace," the careless loudly cry,
As money freely flows.
The loving message of our God
Is treated with disdain:
Another captain holds the helm,
And warnings seem in vain.
But low'ring clouds foretell a storm;
The ship begins to reel;
All hands on deck work desperately
To keep an even keel:
E'en overboard some dare to cast
The finest of the wheat;
Small wonder hearts now fail for fear!
The wreck well-nigh complete.
What joy upon life's sea to know
We have the Christ on board:
All shall be saved who sail with Paul,
For Paul sailed with his Lord.
Our Pilot cries, "Be of good cheer,"
When storms around us beat:
The passage Home may still be rough,
The landing shall be sweet!
Mary, who also sat at Jesus' feet
and heard His Word.
Luke 10:39
Martha, Mary, loving sisters,
In their home, a place of rest,
Entertained, with hearts o'erflowing,
Jesus, Lord, a royal Guest.
Martha bustled in the kitchen
To prepare a worthy meal,
But, alas, with chores distracted,
Over-anxious in her zeal.
Mary, though her sister chided,
At His feet with heart prepared,
Not unmindful of her duties,
Also sat to hear His Word.
Taken up alone with service,
We may worship what we do,
And forget that first and foremost
'Tis the Lord we keep in view.
There is freedom in love's labour,
With the soul on joyful wing,
For the good part, and most needful,
Is communion with the King.
Ah, the Lord hath greater pleasure,
While He serves, our Great High Priest,
To provide for His dear people
From His Word a sumptuous feast.
From the Fount of living waters,
We must drink, yea, more and more,
From the well of love unfathomed,
Ere for others we can draw.
Stand fast in one spirit,
with one mind,
striving together for the
faith of the gospel.
Philippians 1:27
"He's a brick"!-a word oft spoken
Of a brave and generous man.
Let us contemplate a moment
How this saying first began.
Once a noble King of Sparta,
From his youth a man of war,
Entertained a foreign caller,
Named by rank--Ambassador,
Who, when trav'lling round the kingdom,
Saw no ramparts, towers, or forts.
With concern he sought the monarch
To express his candid thoughts--
"Sire, I make this observation,
Though I scorn to give offence,
I perceive in your dominions
No stout walls reared for defence;
I observe with trepidation,
This proud city you expose
To the many lurking dangers,
And destruction by your foes".
But the King replied, serenely,
"You have looked, and looked in vain";
Then he led his guest distinguished
To his army on the plain.
Pointing to ten thousand warriors,
Valiant, mailed, for chivalry,
"There, behold the walls of Sparta,
Ev'ry man a brick you see"!
God today needs Spartan Christians
Who will form a solid wall,
'Gainst the inroads of false teaching;
Hear the Captain's stirring call!
We may pass through tribulation,
'Tis the path the martyrs trod;
Grace sufficient is provided,
With the panoply of God.
Strong in faith, with colours flying,
Stand for truth, for Christ alone;
In the ramparts of true witness,
Ev'ry saint's a living stone!
Every one that exalteth himself shall be abased;
and he that humbleth himself shall be exalted.
Luke 18:14
Two men resort to Temple court
With one desire to pray;
From diff'rent walks of life they came
By chance to meet that day.
The proud, self-righteous Pharisee
With feigned lips drew nigh;
His heart from God was far away,
And heav'n heard not his cry.
The Publican afar off stood
With mournful, downcast eyes;
Upon a trembling breast he smote--
"Here, Lord, the trouble lies!"
Yea, more than mercy he besought,
His plea could never fail,
"For me, a sinner in Thy sight,
O let the blood avail."
Which of the twain was justified
Before God's holy throne?
'Twas he with broken, contrite heart;
Jesus the truth made known.
The humble sinner who repents,
God from the pit will raise;
But He will punish and abase
The proud in heart and ways.
We are, you see, just what we are
In God's unsullied light;
Not what we say, or do, or pray,
In man's oft clouded sight!
Christ also suffered for us,
leaving us an example,
that ye should follow His steps.
1 Peter 2:21
O voiceless calm of Jesus,
Degraded, mocked, and scourged:
E'en Pilate marvelled at the grace
Which answered not a word.
How silently He suffered!
No balm to bring relief:
The sweetness of forgiving love
Was mingled with His grief.
To Him all pow'r was given,
And none can stay His hand:
Angelic legions wait to hear
The word of His command.
His gentle voice of healing
The sick and weary heard;
Yet for Himself in deepest woe
He uttered not a word.
O let that lowly silence
Speak volumes to the heart,
When burning words form on the lips,
And angry feelings start.
When tempted in the conflict
To rise in self-defence,
The silent pow'r of conquering love
Can pardon the offence.
Take wrong, and let forbearance
In meekness ever live;
It may be manly to resent,
'Tis godly to forgive!
Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ,
and thou shalt be saved,
and thy house.
Acts 16:31
Paul and Silas, bruised and bleeding,
Prayed and praised with joyful heart;
Fast in stocks, unbound in spirit,
Triumphed o'er their pain and smart.
Lo! the prison's firm foundations,
Undulating like the sea,
Shook the cruel, hardened jailor
Out of sleep and lethargy.
Prison doors were flung wide open,
Ev'ry shackle was unbound,
And the keeper, sword unsheathed
Trembled like the quaking ground.
"Do thyself no harm, O Jailor,
We are here", the apostle cried,
And the word in season spoken
Saved the man from suicide.
Ah, the warden was the pris'ner
Bound with stronger cords of sin,
And his charge--God's happy freemen
Seeking now his heart to win.
"Bring a light", he cried, for midnight
Wrapped around his spirit, too;
"Sirs", as heav'nly light was dawning,
"To be saved what must I do"?
"Jesus Christ, the Lord of Glory,
To be saved on Him believe,
And thy house shall share the blessing,
If the Saviour each receive".
'Twas a clear and timely message,
And a word ne'er preached in vain;
Happy jailor! radiant household!
Saved, baptised, and born again.
O the mighty alteration
When a man in grace doth stand!
For he bound the wounds inflicted,
With a nurse's gentle hand.
Prisoners now were guests of honour!
And the jailor was their host!
They who have the most forgiven,
Surely love the Saviour most!
I beseech Euodias,
and I beseech Syntyche,
that they be of the
same mind in the Lord.
Philippians 4:2
God made all characters diverse,
In rich variety, too;
Two blades of grass are not alike,
Nor flowers of radiant hue.
How dull and drear would life become
With all things uniform!
We need the sunshine and the rain,
We need the calm and storm.
Cantankerous folk can be a boon,
While loving those who please;
One draws our hearts in glad return,
The other to our knees!
For heav'nly anthems God doth blend
Each temperamental chord
Into a deep, sweet harmony;
So be of one accord.
Begone! that human tendency,
E'en found among the best,
To look with microscopic eye
For failures in the rest.
Behold the good in ev'ryone,
And truer light shall dawn;
Admire the beauty of the rose,
Look not upon the thorn.
We sadly gaze on death's cold face,
And hard thoughts disappear;
All virtues overlooked in life
Are seen through falling tear.
Ah, sinners of the deepest dye,
God sought as gems unpriced;
He saw in them, saved by His grace,
The image of His Christ.
Christ also loved the Church,
and gave Himself for it.
Ephesians 5:25
"Tis not good," we hear God saying,
"For the Man to dwell alone;
I will make a meet companion
Who shall share His glorious throne."
Worshipped and adored by angels,
Cherubim and seraphim,
Yet among the shining myriads
Was no consort found for Him.
So He left His Father's dwelling,
For this cause to seek a wife;
From the plenitude of glory
To a hostile world of strife.
Passing by the proud self-righteous,
Unrepentant in their sin,
Saw in humble, contrite sinners
His own lovely bride to win.
But His blood must be the purchase,
From that spear-pierced opened side,
Ere His bride could be presented,
By a Father satisfied.
Wonder of succeeding ages,
This relationship with man;
Secret of the Father's bosom,
Purposed ere the world began.
Never was a bride more happy,
Never was more costly dress,
As she stands, with radiant beauty,
In His perfect righteousness.
Woven on the looms of Calvary,
And designed by wisdom, too:
Lo! its threads are gold and silver,
Spotless white, and heavenly blue.
Yet another robe is given,
Made by her in "single" days,
Bright reward for faithful service
On her wedding day displayed.
Kindly words compose its fabric,
Every stitch a deed of love,
Righteous acts for Christ recorded,
Reproduced in heaven above.
Soon the day of His espousal,
Heavenly Lover, spotless Bride,
When together, and forever
In unclouded joy abide.
Now He waits in priestly service
For that meeting in the air;
Long years seem but fleeting moments
For the love He hath to her.
Having a form of godliness,
but denying the power thereof.
2 Timothy 3:5
I saw a rose the other day
As radiant as a queen;
It never sprang from tiny bud,
Nor graced a garden green.
Gay daffodils, whose trumps of gold
Ne'er danced to springtime's breeze;
And lifeless blooms without sweet scent
Or nectar for the bees.
There is a captivating charm
Much like the plastic flowers;
In outward form gives great delight,
Yet with its moral powers,
The light of heaven never shines
Behind the smiling face:
The life of God is wanting still,
The sweet perfume of grace.
Without the Christ e'en noble deeds
Appear in lifeless form:
The seeds of love must germinate
In hearts redeemed and warm.
True loveliness springs out of faith,
The fruitful ground of praise;
Then deeds of kindness in His name
Live on through endless days.
I saw a rose the other day
Perfumed with tender love;
It shed its fragrance everywhere
With sunshine from above;
It brighten'd many a gloomy place,
With beauty sweet and rare,
And in the face of that dear saint,
The Son of God was there!
We know that all things work together
for good to them that love God.
Romans 8:28
All things must ever work for good
To those who love the Lord,
Who blends from life's discordant notes,
One sweet, harmonious chord.
As shuttles fly He takes all threads,
And weaves with good and ill,
The ordered texture of our lives,
The pattern of His will.
The sick may oft recoil with fear
To feel the surgeon's knife;
The skilful hand that guides the blade
Can save a precious life.
When o'er life's ocean head-winds rage,
The mind is oft distraught;
The same opposing force can drive,
By means of tacks, to port.
Look at the tall grandfather clock,
When pressed with dismal woe;
It is the heavy weights within
That make it chime and go!
Behold with wonder Calv'ry's cross,
Where love and justice meet:
From brokenness comes blessedness,
From bitterness comes sweet.
It is God's wise prerogative,
For His dear children now,
To bring out good from seeming ill,
The very best endow.
Let not the rich man glory in his riches.
Jeremiah 9:23
See the rich man in his palace,
Self-sufficient, careless, gay,
Clothed in purple and fine linen,
With a banquet ev'ry day.
See the hungry, unloved beggar
Lying helpless at his door,
Waiting for the tiny morsels
From the rich man's lavish store.
Now one day the King of Terrors
Laid his hand upon the twain;
Where, O rich man, is thy treasure?
Death, O Lazarus, is thy gain!
Jesus drew aside the curtain
And revealed the solemn scene--
One in comfort, one in torment,
With a great gulf fixed between.
Go to now, ye rich and wanton,
Though thy coffers overflow,
Fame and plenty now thy portion
In this transient world of woe,
Know ye not that selfish living
Is deep poverty indeed!
And to die without the Saviour-
Who for mercy then can plead?
Jesus came, the Lord of Glory,
From His palace-home so fair;
He beheld in sin's dominion
Moral lepers lying there.
He endured the cross of Calv'ry,
Was there ever love so great'?
In deep poverty and anguish
Took our place outside the gate.
Sing aloud and sound His praises
Ye who know His saving grace:
He hath raised us to the heav'nlies,
Brought us to a wealthy place.
Now no longer lost, insolvent.
Crushed beneath the load of sin;
By His blood we have been purchased,
Joys unceasing now begin.
Thy Word is a lamp unto my feet,
and a light unto my path.
Psalm 119:105
There's a saying sometimes quoted
"Ev'ry dog will have his day."
But the puppy of this poem
Came by train and lost his way!
"Where's he going'?" was the question,
As the friendly tail did wag;
Said the porter with a problem,
"I don't know, he's chewed his tag!"
Timid sheep, like this quadruped,
Go astray, the prophet said;
So mankind, God's pathway leaving,
Chose a devious course instead.
There's a lamp to guide our footsteps
As through life we onward go,
There's a light, its beams revealing
Snares and pitfalls we should know.
'Tis the holy, sacred Bible,
Of all books by far the best;
Full of treasures, endless pleasures,
Bringing comfort, peace, and rest.
Critics scorn, and skeptics censure,
Some are atheists, so they brag;
Undirected, they resemble
That lost puppy and his tag!
Go home to thy friends,
and tell them how
great things the Lord
hath done for thee.
Mark 5:19
A person's home reveals the heart;
The books upon the shelf;
The way the precious hours are spent,
For others or for self.
The choice of music in the air,
Amid the household chores,
Will indicate the kind of folk
Who live within its doors.
O happy Christian dwelling-place
Of thankfulness and prayer!
How soon the news is spread abroad,
The Christ is living there.
A place where hymns of praise ascend,
Where tender love appears,
And Scriptures taught in childhood days
Remain with passing years.
In mansion grand or cottage fair,
The family altar raise,
If hitherto through sad neglect
There lack both prayer and praise.
God's ordered battlements erect;
Outside great dangers lurk;
'Twill make the home sweet and secure,
The happiest place on earth.
"Go home and tell, go home and show
The great things done for thee."
Thus Jesus spake to one of old
From Satan's pow'r set free.
Toil in this sphere of usefulness
Ere distant fields are sown;
The light that sheds its beams afar,
Shines brightest nearest home.
While we look not at the things which are seen,
but at the things which are not seen.
2 Corinthians 4:18
Uncheered are they who look at life
With magnifying sight:
The green hill is a mountain bleak,
The twilight--darkest night.
When indisposed with minor ills,
They murmur and complain;
No other person felt the like,
Nor could endure such pain!
They see the shadows not the sun,
The clouds and not the blue,
The parched ground amid the drought,
But not the sparkling dew.
Pet grievances are nursed with care,
With unforgiving zeal;
And, growing stronger ev'ry day,
The troubles never heal.
They drink the self-filled cup of woe,
And mourn the evil days;
Thankless for mercies from above,
The good they never praise.
Now happy folk, so richly blest
With telescopic sight,
Look up and see the cheerful stars
Beyond the darkest night.
More distant still the raptured eye
Is fixed on things above;
Their days are days of heav'n on earth,
And filled with deeds of love.
Think not their path a rosy bed
Devoid of weary days:
But when they groan, it is within,
And outward mostly praise!
As busy bees will find with care
The sweetness of the flowers,
Such folk extract the best in life
From bright or darksome hours.
The secret is the joy of Christ,
A heart set free from sin:
The things of earth can never mar
The peace of God within.
We have not very far to go,
The passing time is short;
Then walk through life with hearts aglow,
And not with minds distraught.
My son,
despise not the chastening of the Lord.
Hebrews 12:5
'Neath darkened skies while rain descends,
Behold three feathered friends!
Their swift reaction to the storm,
Diverse in nature's form.
The rooster stands with drooping wings,
The robin red-breast sings,
The duck, indiff'rent to the rain,
Doth splash, and splash again!
Methinks we learn a lesson here,
When gloomy trials appear;
True moral conduct is revealed,
And attitudes unsealed.
In common with the bird forlorn,
We can look down and mourn;
Or miss the lesson we should learn,
Through thoughtless unconcern.
Far better swell the robin's song
When ev'rything seems wrong:
The clouds that shadow present skies
Are blessings in disguise.
Faith triumphs more in darkest night
Than in the roseate light;
Faith walks upon the foaming deep,
And holds the Hands that keep.
No chastening for the present time
Seems now to be sublime;
God uses oft, our hearts to win,
Love's hand of discipline.
Then afterward we understand
The best the Father planned:
For wisdom's lessons shall be prized
When souls are exercised.
And they went forth,
and preached everywhere,
the Lord working with them.
Mark 16:20
Within a certain hotel lounge,
A child with restless hand,
Strummed in her artless unreserve
Upon the baby-grand.
The pow'r of music we are told,
Will calm the savage breast;
But this one-fingered melody
Brought no such peaceful rest.
Deep sighs arose in minor key
Whene'er the lass appeared;
A signal to the weary guests
Who quickly disappeared!
One day a great composer came
In that same place to stay,
And when he heard the clashing notes,
Sat with the child to play.
What pleasant strains then filled the air!
The masters lived anew;
The guests enthralled, came flocking back
To hear musicians two!
The Chief Musician is the Lord,
The Theme of heavenly lays;
His name, the sweetest note on earth,
The essence of all praise.
He takes our humble talents now,
And with them blends His pow'r;
He fills the soul with music sweet,
And charms the lonesome hour.
What grace to tarry by our side,
Our feeble hands employ!
From life's sad discords reproduce
Sweet harmonies of joy.
We cannot but speak the things
which we have seen and heard.
Acts 4:20
The sun must rise in splendour,
The moon with borrowed light;
The stars must twinkle gaily,
Like diamonds in the night.
The birds must sing sweet anthems
To greet the opening day;
And children in life's morning
Must skip, and laugh, and play.
The watchful, tender mother
Must love her darling child;
And all God's works must praise Him,
Earth, sky, and ocean wild.
The garden in its glory
Must scented pleasures bring;
And cooling, crystal waters
Must gush from hidden spring.
The Saviour must be lifted
Upon a cross of shame,
And in a work completed,
Must glorify God's name.
His own with hearts o'erflowing,
Must tell His love to all:
The watchman to be faithful,
Must sound the warning call.
God's people must look heav'nward,
Glad songs and worship raise;
And with the angel-chorus,
The Lamb must ever praise.
God resisteth the proud,
but giveth grace unto the humble.
James 4:6
What is this sin that God abhors,
This deadly thing called Pride?
The central letter of the word,
The "I" not crucified.
Pride, with its spreading tentacles,
Hath reached the hearts of all:
Pride made a king a grovelling beast,
And made an angel fall.
Pride will appear in various forms,
Of place, face, race, and lace;
And sometimes in a subtle way,
There can be pride of grace.
Pride strives for prominence and pow'r,
By spoken word or pen;
Pride sits upon its pompous throne,
And loves the praise of men.
How strange this vain, unyielding clay,
This animated dust,
Should turn from God in scornful pride,
The arm of flesh to trust!
The proud of heart God will resist,
Stern justice will abase:
He loves a lowly, contrite soul,
And gives the humble grace.
Pride cannot live before the cross,
Before that sight must fall,
When gazing on the One
Who filled The lowest place of all!
Thy Word have 1 hid in mine heart,
that 1 might not sin against Thee.
Psalm 119:11
Choicest of all books--the Bible;
Welcome beacon of the night,
Bringing light and warmth to millions,
Shining in majestic might.
To destroy, men sought for ages,
And its principles forsook;
While in death their tongues are silent,
Still prevails the living Book!
Too old-fashioned, say the critics:
Signs today prove up-to-date!
Future happenings all foreshadowed,
Leading on to heaven's gate.
As for those who scorn the Scriptures,
Which reveal His saving grace,
This same Book foretells the judgment
When the Great White Throne they face.
'Tis a two-edged sword for warfare,
Faithful critic of our ways,
Heavenly diet to sustain us,
Golden harp to sound our praise,
Searching fire to refine us,
Sweeter than the honeycomb,
Burning lamp to guide our footsteps
Safely to our heavenly Home.
Christ in all the Holy Scriptures
His reflected beauty see;
All revolving round the centre
Of the cross of Calvary.
O how good to know the Author
Of this blessed Book divine!
Search and find a lasting treasure
From a deep unfathomed mine.
Abram's faith will then inspire us,
Moses' leadership will thrill,
Joseph's tenderness will teach us,
David's songs the heart will fill.
Time would fail to tell of others,
Isaiah, Peter, Paul, and John,
But the sweetest and the dearest
Is the Christ, the Lovely One!
Once a nation lost the Scriptures;
In the temple dust they lay!
In some homes are unread Bibles,
Lost, as surely in our day!
Never say you own a copy,
If you rarely read a part:
For you only can possess it
When it lies within the heart!
The Lord shall fight for you,
and ye shall hold your peace.
Exodus 14:14
This ancient foe called Worry,
A ruthless buccaneer,
Whose weapons are destructive.
Depression, doubt, and fear,
Still seeks to conquer daily,
Controls a motley crew,
In subtle forms of mischief,
His deadly work to do.
He boards the storm-tossed vessel,
This pirate in the strife,
And robs the weary traveller
Who sails the sea of life.
He takes the heart's rich treasures,
And plunders gems of sleep:
He takes, but leaves behind him,
A tortured mind to keep!
O pow'r that ever triumphs-
Effectual fervent prayer!
O Love that lifts all burdens
With tender hands of care!
O peace, a mighty fortress,
Encircling day by day!
O grace that keeps securely
And drives the foe away!
Then trust the heavenly Captain,
He is a Man of War,
To apprehend the tyrant,
And silence evermore.
He comes along your vessel,
O bid Him take the helm!
Then worry with its flurry.
His pow'r shall overwhelm.
Gird up, with cords of promise,
The loins of the mind;
Recount the lavish blessings
Along life's path you find;
In holy concentration,
With grateful heart aglow,
This ancient foe called Worry,
No longer shall you know!
They say, and do not.
Matthew 23:3
There was a saying-- 'Talk is cheap".
'Tis just as true today;
For what we are interprets best
The many words we say.
To preach by lip with doubtful mien
Is darkness without light;
The trumpet-call will be unheard
Unless the life shines bright.
A sermon lasting in effect
Is preached by daily walk;
It takes great pow'r to shine for God,
But none for empty talk!
Fair promises so quickly fade-
To lend a helping hand.
The little deeds already done
Are worth far more than planned.
Observant hearers will connect
Sweet words with daily walk;
If practice is a missing link,
The verdict is--' 'Just talk"!
Our life is gauged by depth not length,
A measurement divine;
By what we are, not what we say,
And not by course of time.
Therefore if any man be in Christ,
he is a new creation: old things are passed away;
behold, all things are become new.
2 Corinthians 5:17
"Old kettles, saucepans mended:"
Hear Tim the Tinker's cry;
A man so often tempted
To drink, and swear, and lie;
Yet in the realm of tinware
Great wonders he could do;
"Old kettles, saucepans mended,
I grind your scissors, too."
There came a Christian cobbler,
Tim's skilful help to seek;
"I'll do a good ,guv'nor,
Your kettle shall not leak."
The cobbler's face looked thoughtful,
He shook a wise old head,
"And go and mend yourself, Tim,
'Tis overdue," he said.
All ready for fresh service,
The kettle Tim returned;
It pleased the cobbler greatly,
'Twas worth the money earned.
"But what about yourself, Tim?
You drink, and lie, and swear,
In fact, you are past mending,
Your life's in bad repair."
This faithful word cut deeply,
'Twas like an arrow sent
To Tim's sin-hardened conscience;
He asked just what it meant.
"You need a new beginning,
A new, cleansed heart within,
The power of God reversing
Your present course of sin."
A child then brought a saucepan
Which looked the worse for wear;
Said Tim, "This means a new one,
'Tis holed beyond repair."
"You answer your own question,"
Then said his earnest friend,
"A new man is the secret,
The old you cannot mend."
With heav'nly light now dawning,
Tim trusted Christ that hour,
Who changed his life completely,
And old things lost their power.
"Old kettles, saucepans mended:
"Hear Tim the Tinker's cry;
A new tone folk detected,
And knew the reason why!
And the Lord said unto Moses, Go on ...
Exodus 17:5
"What shall I do'?" Poor Moses cried,
Provoked and sorely tried:
With grace to cheer, the Lord replied,
"Go on! go on! go on!"
"Take now thy rod, smite with thy hand
The rock on which I stand;
There shall be water in the land.
Go on! go on! go on!"
From flinty rock the fountains burst,
And quenched the rebels' thirst;
The message rang with fear dispersed,
"Go on! go on! go on!"
Have you, my friend, reached Rephidim,
With days both dark and grim?
Fret not, nor faint, look up to Him.
"Go on! go on! go on!"
Folk may unjustly blame and chide:
In His warm love confide:
Jehovah--nissi's on your side.
"Go on! go on! go on!"
To suffer with Him is to reign;
All earthly loss is gain;
For Jesus lives, and comes again.
"Go on! go on! go on!"
To the faithful in Christ Jesus,
grace be to you, and peace.
Ephesians 1:1,2
There was a china tea-set
In service rarely found:
It only graced the table
With special guests around!
Admired, and gently handled,
The cups were egg-shell thin;
The cream was always added
Ere hot tea poured therein.
Now in the kitchen cupboard,
There was a set of crock,
Which never saw the parlour,
A chipped, yet faithful stock!
In service always useful,
With constant daily wear,
It served a humble table
When humble folk were there!
The moral of the tea-sets
We would with Christians share:
Some turn out well on Sundays,
But not on nights of prayer;
In active service-fragile,
In loving patience--thin,
They must be wisely handled,
Their confidence to win!
Conspicuous by their absence,
The absentees we trace
Reclining on their sofas;
Excuses fly apace!
Love-feasts or social functions
A large proportion draw:
Then ills and adverse weather
Are hindrances no more!
Praise God for loyal standbys!
A remnant strong and true;
No doors are closed on weekdays,
Thanks to the faithful few!
With footsteps often weary,
With faces all aglow,
They go to meet the Saviour;
No greater joy they know!
There shall be one flock,
and one Shepherd.
John 10:16
The Good Shepherd comes! O measureless grace!
Is not this the Christ, Whose wonders we trace?
Proclaim the glad tidings, the Saviour adore,
He bringeth salvation, and life evermore.
Reclaiming the lost, He sank in deep mire;
To seek and to save, He passed through the fire;
Triumphant He rose, and set firm on the Rock,
The sheep of all nations, comprising His flock.
The earth He suspends on nothing in space,
And stretches the heavens like curtains of lace;
The stars in their courses, He holds in His hands,
The oceans unfathomed. all nations and lands.
Why art thou cast down, why yield to despair,
When numberless worlds are safe in His care?
Earth's kingdoms may tremble with tottering throne,
Securely He guards from all danger His own.
The mountains He weighs, being girded with might,
The eagle to mount, with keenest of sight;
The battle-horse clothes, with its quivering mane,
The glittering spear, and the shield to disdain.
Preserved by such power, no sheep can be lost,
Redeemed by His blood, the infinite cost;
Upon His strong shoulders, in safety to keep,
The Shepherd clasps firmly the feeblest of sheep.
He parteth with skill, dispelling the night,
In colourful beams, the ray of pure light,
Reflected in beauty upon the dark cloud,
Encircled by rainbow, with mercy endowed.
Yon sun's shining face would never arise,
And stars, disarrayed, would fall from the skies;
The blackness of darkness would ever prevail,
If only one promise, so precious, should fail!
"My sheep hear My voice", how tender His tone!
He knows, and He names, each one of His own;
Beside the still waters, in pasture-lands sweet,
He leadeth the flock, to recline at His feet.
If lightning should flash, with thunderous roar,
And sullen dark clouds, the rain-storm outpour,
To comfort, and strengthen, this Shepherd is near;
Let faith rise in triumph, and banish all fear.
The Great Shepherd comes! we enter the door,
The house of the Lord, to dwell evermore.
He carries the lambs in His bosom of love,
All safely transported to heaven above.
What joy to behold His beautiful face!
To know with full hearts, O God of all grace,
The sheep that Thou gavest, brought Home at such cost,
Are with Him in glory, not one of them lost!
Be not deceived; God is not mocked:
for whatsoever a man soweth,
that shall he also reap.
Galatians 6:7
There was a man who rent the air
With oaths and curses none could bear;
His patient wife, whose faith he scorned,
This godless language deeply mourned.
He neither cared for God nor man,
And from his path the children ran;
The local peace was long disturbed,
And hearts were grieved, and minds perturbed.
At last a saint who lived nearby,
And often heard the blatant cry,
The help of God in prayer besought,
"To close his mouth, Lord, is there nought?"
Returning home from work one day,
Bad weather met him on the way;
For shelter to a house he ran,
And then the heavy squall began.
One vivid shaft with thunderous roar,
Cut through the shingles to the door,
As if an unseen hand did guide
To where he stood; and there he died!
We sought to soothe the widowed wife,
But grief to her was end of strife:
At her request, around the grave
A message from God's Word we gave.
And in that solemn funeral hour,
The Spirit spoke to hearts with power:
Though some rose up to criticize,
We failed, thought they, to eulogize!
No word of comfort could we give;
He died as he was wont to live;
Though friends would have us by constraint,
Transform a sinner to a saint!
God is not mocked; be not deceived
All ye who scatter evil seed;
The reaping shall be, this we know,
According to the deeds we sow.
Far better live that all may know,
If death should strike, just where we go;
Prepared and ready to depart
With Christ, as Saviour, in the heart.
The God of peace shall bruise Satan
under your feet shortly.
Romans 16:20
There is a foe infernal,
This sinful world his den,
Who stalks in crowded cities,
And in the peaceful glen.
To trap all "birds of passage"
He lays the fowler's snare,
With plausible attractions,
To lure his victims there.
When Satan roars in fury,
The careless start to pray;
But when the Lion is silent,
The prayer-life fades away!
He is the friend of slothful,
Who rest in prosperous ease,
A foe in tribulation
That calls for prayerful knees!
His wiles are far more deadly
Than all his fiery darts;
A master in deception,
He seeks unguarded hearts.
To dream of peace is futile,
The conquest incomplete,
Till he is crushed forever
'Neath saints' victorious feet.
Be sober! O be vigilant!
Arise! by faith withstand
The many sly devices
He works with cunning hand.
'Tis God's own wheat he sifteth;
The chaff-his will obey:
Awake! 0 thou that sleepeth;
It's time to watch and pray!
O glad and glorious highway,
Called Holiness and Prayer!
The godly tread it safely,
No lion shall be there.
But leave the path like Samson,
The foe appears in sight;
God's work is sadly hindered,
And 'tis a needless fight!
Then take the Christian armour,
The panoply of light:
O'ercome the powers of darkness
Which now increase in might.
Ascend the heights in triumph
Not in thy strength alone,
Through Him Who intercedeth
Upon His Father's throne.
Let everything that hath breath
praise the Lord. Hallelujah!
Psalms 150:6
Varied are the sounds of nature;
Countless voices everywhere;
Sometimes major, sometimes minor,
Music, noises, fill the air.
Sheep are bleating, cows are lowing,
E'en mosquitoes seem to sing!
Bees are buzzing, crickets chirping,
Birds the sweetest music bring.
Dogs are barking, frogs are croaking,
Hear the rooster's waking crow!
Winds are whistling, seas are murm'ring,
Many other sounds we know.
Human tongues are often silent
To our God Who calls for praise;
Songs now gird the whole creation,
Join the never-ceasing lays!
If you're not a singing artist,
Let a joyful noise arise!
Let the heart be tuned to heaven;
Be a minstrel of the skies!
For with singing is no sighing;
Wrong is oft o'ercome with song;
Take the harp from weeping willows,
Praise the Lord the whole day long!
Jesus is the sweetest music
In the anthem of our life;
Let the hallelujah chorus
Rise above the present strife!
Bring them up in the nurture
and admonition of the Lord.
Ephesians 6:4
"Feed My lambs." The Shepherd calleth,
They are placed within thy care,
While the heart is warm and tender,
Ere the world seeks entrance there.
Happy parents! precious priv'lege!
'Tis a work that shall abide;
And the training in life's morning
Shall remain at eventide.
Gentle manners, good behaviour,
Love's restrictions-have a place;
More important is the moulding
Of thy bairns in realms of grace.
As the arrow leaves the quiver,
Poised in bow and sent abroad,
Point the straight course to thy dear ones,
And the target is the Lord.
Wouldst thou meet in realms of glory
As a family complete?
Even now within thy dwelling
Gather at the Shepherd's feet.
If two of you shall agree (symphonize)
on earth as touching anything
that they shall ask...it shall be done.
Matthew 18:19
The jarring sounds of this our day
Assail the soul with constant din;
The clang of strife, the sceptic's jeer,
The clash of war, the cry of sin.
Still there is music in the air;
Gladly the well-tuned ear perceives
The peal of bells, the song of birds,
The murmuring brook, the rustling leaves.
Sweeter the song no bird can trill,
Its silver notes no bells can chime;
Christ in redemption is its theme,
Nor shall it end with course of time.
Rising above the babbling strife,
From hearts of love attuned by grace,
Majestic in symphonic praise
From every kindred, tongue, and race.
Christ in the midst of all His own,
Conducts this symphony with skill,
Bestows His talents with His power,
To every one to do His will.
Maybe a solo part to lead,
Perhaps a smaller place to fill;
Each piece is vital to the theme,
Major or minor, 'tis needed still.
All instruments must be in tune;
Strings overtensed will surely break,
And loose ones playing with the Truth
Discordant notes for certain make!
In harmony with God's own Word,
Observe the rests and be in time;
Obey the baton of His will,
Blending in melody sublime.
Let practice first begin at home
In sweet ascending chords of prayer;
Come boldly to the throne of grace,
No grander music rises there.
"If two of you shall symphonize,"
Touching the things they supplicate,
Jesus declared it shall be done,
When saints upon His Father wait.
Thus life is like a test-piece given:
God hath composed the music-score;
Our lips to speak His wondrous love,
Our hearts to worship and adore.
Recorded service in that Day
He will appraise, its value tell-
"Your part I missed when needed most,"
Or shall you hear, "You played it well.'
I will therefore that men pray everywhere,
lifting up holy hands,
without wrath and doubting.
1 Timothy 2:8
Tom the Poacher's bright conversion,
Central theme of village talk,
None could doubt: for lip confession
Was confirmed by life and walk.
With God's Word, this happy layman
Witnessed in the open-air;
Though the chapel pews were empty,
Crowds would throng that thoroughfare!
Till a policeman, without knowing
Tom's old trespass days were o'er,
Charged the preacher with obstruction,
And infringing statute law.
Tom arrested for his poaching
Never caused the slightest stir;
Tom arrested for his preaching
Was a circumstance more rare!
When the court convened for trial,
With spectators chock-a-block,
Tom could preach and pray extempore,
Though his pulpit was the dock!
"Gentlemen, do you mean business?"
"Business? Yes, of course, we do!"
"Well", said Tom, "in any matter
I pray first since born anew".
Tom prayed long: in this dilemma
Justice waited for reprieve!
"Stop, man, stop", a J.P. whispered,
And a P.C. pulled his sleeve.
On he prayed his spirit soaring
To a higher court in need;
From his knees at last arising,
"Sirs", he said, "we now proceed".
After hurried consultation
By the bench on points of law,
Never was a court decision
Wildly cheered like that before.
"You may go, Tom", spake the chairman,
"Free to preach just as you please,
But we'd rather no thanksgiving
In this court upon your knees!"
When the blasts of stormy trial
Shake the mind, disturb the peace,
When the sun shines on serenely,
Prayer to God must never cease.
Prayer is never out of season,
Nor confined to time or place;
When in faith you seek the Father,
You will find the needed grace.
When the fulness of the time was come,
God sent forth His Son.
Galatians 4:4
To a world benighted
Came the Life and Light:
Helpless in a manger,
Yet the God of might!
He was manifested,
In the flesh He came;
His intrinsic fulness
Still remained the same.
O the blissful moment
Of the Saviour's birth!
Foretold in past ages,
Heaven descends to earth.
Was there e'er so costly
Such a gift of love,
In that humble wrapping,
Sent from heaven above?
In the starry stillness,
Shepherds in the field,
Angel visitation,
To their hearts revealed,
Blessed, joyful tidings,
Of a Saviour near.
In that blaze of glory,
Joy displaced their fear.
Wise men saw the gleaming
Of His natal star:
Later to behold Him,
Coming from afar;
With full hearts to worship,
Costly gifts to bring;
Never were they wiser
When they sought the King!
See! across the manger
Shadows of the cross:
He must die to save us
From eternal loss.
And His blest obedience
On that day of shame,
Glorified the Father:
Blessed be His name!
Let us grasp the meaning
Of that lowly birth:
Banish carnal feasting,
Empty festal mirth.
As God's Gift receive Him,
Render thanks anew,
For the work the Saviour
Came on earth to do.
Go ye into all the world
and preach the gospel.
Mark 16:15
There was a quaint old graveyard
Amid surroundings fair;
According to the tombstones,
The former church was there!
The names embossed in granite
Were worn by wind and rain;
The saints shall rise in triumph
When Christ returns again.
Was that late church self-centred,
And lacked soul-winning breath,
That caused complete extinction,
A sad, untimely death?
If true in gospel outreach,
And souls were born again,
Where are the saints remaining
To witness in their train?
'Tis sweet to feast on good things,
God's precious Word explore,
But, look! the unconverted
Are dying at the door.
We have a glorious message,
Commissioned by the Lord;
Then go beyond the circle
And spread the news abroad!
Our sun may set in witness
By death's cold hand below;
If we in life are faithful,
There must be afterglow.
Watch ye, stand fast in the faith,
quit you like men, be strong.
1 Corinthians 16:13
Lo! a shining, gold colossus,
Product of a kingly brain,
Shameful, lifeless, metal monster,
Stood on Dura's humid plain:
All the V.I.P.'s were gathered,
With the Chaldees cornet-band,
When the hour for dedication
Of the image came to hand.
From the Babylonian despot
Came a ruthless firm decree:
Fiery death to all dissenters
Who refuse to bow the knee.
Hark! the herald's proclamation,
As the band began to play,
"Give ye homage to the idol!"
All obeyed, save three that day.
Kingly anger, like a tempest,
Burst in fury 'gainst the Jews;
Royal warning, railing, pleading,
Could not shake those godly youths.
"In this matter we're not anxious,
For we have the mind of God,
Not to serve your wretched idol,
Though we feel your fiery rod !"
"Heat the furnace seven times hotter",
Cried the king, "and let them burn!"
Seems the place was air-conditioned
For their comfort, we discern!
Bonds were burnt to give them freedom;
Better was their lot in flame!
'Neath the wings of God's protection,
From the fire unsinged they came!
Faith in God will ever triumph
Through the medium of prayer:
For the Lord of Hebrew princes
Hath His mighty arm made bare.
He can turn man's wrath to praises,
And protect His servants, too:
Stand for truth, maintain His glory,
Honour God, He'll honour you!
The ants are a people not strong,
yet they prepare their meat in the summer.
Proverbs 30:25
Behold the busy harvest-ant.
Weak, yet exceeding wise:
Pause we a space to meditate
Wherein this wisdom lies.
She gathers food in summer-time,
Then wisely stores away,
While yonder sluggard soundly sleeps
Upon the fresh-mown hay!
This steady worker needs no guide,
Or overseer nigh,
While slothful humans sometimes work
Beneath a foreman's eye!
The dreary winter's icy hand
Will later seal the ground;
She now prepares against that day
Her food while it is found.
O welcome summer of God's grace,
Thy pleasant hours reveal,
The rich provision found in Christ,
The gospel's great appeal.
Art thou less wiser than the ant?
Or art thou less prepared?
Within thy soul, while Love still shines,
Let wisdom's voice be heard.
Ere summer ends with harvest past,
Upon the Saviour call:
There looms ahead the winter storm
When God's stern judgments fall.
God comforteth those that are cast down.
2 Corinthians 7:6
The Saviour dies! according to the Scriptures;
A spotless off'ring in the sinner's place.
The sun was draped, but not the bright outshining
Of moral beauty in His lovely face.
Engulfed beneath the billows of God's judgment,
To lift our souls to higher heights above,
Those waters deep, like His exceeding sorrow,
Quenched not the flame of His undying love.
The Christian dies! we sorrow not as others
Who have no hope beyond the narrow grave;
The Prince of Life to all His own by dying,
A life beyond the pale of death He gave.
Yet there is mourning in the hour of parting,
The empty chair, the lonesome inward pain.
Lift up your head! your dear one knows no sadness,
Earth's loss is nought compared with heavenly gain.
The pilgrim dies! terrestrial pathways ended,
No steeps to climb, no thorns to wound the feet,
No staff to hold in time of human weakness,
At home with Christ in rest divinely sweet.
The earthly tent now laid aside for glory
By loving hand, awaits the rising day
When Christ in power conforms to His own likeness,
And clothes the body in His bright array.
The warrior dies! all earthly strife is over,
The noise of conflict is no longer heard:
The victor lays aside his shining armour,
The sword so deftly used, the faithful Word.
How rich the prize, the Saviour's commendation!
How blest the meeting far beyond the skies!
We wait with joy the moment of reunion,
To see His face and hear His word "Arise !"
The Saviour lives! according to the Scriptures;
Our Great High Priest in heaven now appears.
Touched with your need He whispers,
"I am with thee, I know thy sorrows, I have seen thy tears".
His loving arms in comfort will uphold you
Until the daybreak and earth's shadows flee.
Fret not, nor fear, that Day is fast approaching,
Death has no sting, the grave no victory.
A merchant man, seeking goodly pearls.
Matthew 13:45
O, my soul, behold the Saviour,
Gracious, loving Merchant Man,
Stooping down from highest glory
Working out redemption's plan.
Ever in His Father's business
Seeking jewels, goodly pearls,
For His own peculiar treasure,
Men and women, boys and girls.
Though by nature worthless sinners,
Costly pearls He valued them;
E'en in one confessed the chiefest
He perceived a shining gem!
Now His saints, clothed in His beauty,
Constitute His glorious Church,
One great Pearl, redeemed and gathered
From all nations of the earth
See! the Merchant Man at Calv'ry
Sinking deep in weeds and mire,
'Neath God's waves and raging billows,
This bright treasure to acquire.
Yes, He gave His all and bought it;
Who can estimate the price?
When He sealed the great transaction
With His blood of sacrifice.
Fashioned as no other jewel,
Product of a living one;
So the Church owes her existence
To the anguish of the Son.
Cruelly pierced by our transgressions,
When He took the sinner's place;
Then He wrapped His glory round her,
Wondrous process of His grace!
As the pearl in shining lustre
Needs no lapidary's hand,
So the Church in her formation,
In His perfectness doth stand.
Bought and prized by Him forever
In His diadem to shine;
Vain is man's weak contribution,
For the work is all Divine?
Do you lack complete assurance?
Doubt not! you can ne'er be lost:
He will safely guard His people
Bought at such tremendous cost.
Look with joy to His returning
When His glory you shall share.
In that Pearl, caught up to heav'n,
All His children will be there.
Let my Beloved come into His garden.
Song of Solomon 4:16
God in Eden placed a garden,
In profusion planted there
Stately trees, exquisite flowers;
Pleasant fragrance filled the air.
Sweet in variform of colour,
Mingling in a radiant hue,
Roses, pansies, bluebells, daises,
Orchids, lilies, lilac, too.
In that scene of charming beauty,
God set man to keep and dress
His fair paradise with pleasure,
And maintain its loveliness.
But, alas; through disobedience,
In that garden-home came fear:
Lo! the very flowers are drooping,
With the roses thorns appear!
Now behold a sight amazing,
Jesus dies upon a tree!
In His garden; O what beauty!
Never fairer then was He!
Yet the sin of that first garden,
Thorns and sorrows, death and pain,
He must bear, and by enduring,
Brought us back to God again.
Christians! we are Christ's own garden
All sequestered for His feet,
Tended for His special pleasure,
And His presence makes it sweet.
Let the graces of the Spirit
Flow like spices in the air;
Trim the borders, keep uprooted
Weeds of sin and thorns of care.
Let the pure and tender lily,
And the humble violet fair,
Let the rose of love to others,
All combine to flourish there.
Then amid the pleasant bowers
Daily our Beloved meet:
For His pleasure and His glory
Keep His ordered garden sweet.
Lord, remember me when Thou
comest into Thy kingdom.
Luke 23:42
"Father, forgive them", Jesus cried,
"They know not what they do",
When hanging on a central cross
'Twixt malefactors two.
The soldiers gamble for His clothes,
The scribes and priests deride;
"If Thou be Christ, O save Thyself,
And us", a robber cried.
The other, answering in rebuke,
Touched by that lonely cry-
For at the first he scoffed and scorned,
Though crucified to die-
"Our deeds receive their due reward,
But His were deeds of love;
Fear God: for in a higher court
We are condemned above".
With trembling heart and fevered tongue,
He cried in agony,
"When to Thy Kingdom Thou shalt come,
O Lord, remember me".
A kingdom! how can hands transfixed
A golden sceptre sway?
Or pierced feet so cruelly bound,
Ascend the royal way?
He saw not shame but glory bright,
Each wound a blazing gem;
Beyond the cross he saw a throne,
A dazzling diadem.
What faith! to see the battle won,
And sheathed the glitt'ring sword;
To be with Christ in Paradise
That day, was his reward.
The victims of man's cruel device,
The torture o'er, were dead;
But not until the Prince of Life
In death had bowed His head.
The saved and lost they represent,
Those thieves on either side,
The sons of darkness and of light,
The cross the great divide.
That humble saint will dwell in heav'n,
With all the saved by grace,
Who put their faith in Christ alone,
And take the sinner's place.
No human merit could he plead,
His past was double-dyed:
Nor rest upon religious works,
But on the Crucified.
The fool hath said in his heart,
there is no God.
Psalms 53:1
The fool hath said within his heart,
"There is no God for me."
O man, thy wall of unbelief
Must then encircle thee!
Come out of thy dark, gloomy cell,
Enlarge thy narrow mind,
Lift up your eyes, and thou shalt see
A loving God, and kind.
The heav'ns declare His majesty,
The sun His glory bright;
The stars, Arcturus and her train,
The moon-His arm of might.
The seasons, with the restless tides,
Beyond the pow'r of man,
All move in orderly control
To God's wise master-plan.
The whole creation speaks to thee,
O atheist, hold thy peace!
For even thou, formed from the dust,
Art God's great masterpiece:
Not from a pre-existing form,
For some believe this lie,
And find no comfort in the myth
When comes the time to die.
How dull the mind to ne'er behold
In nature's vivid light,
The beauty of God's handiwork
In panoramic might!
Say not with scorn,
"There is no God,"
Believe the very works;
Beyond thy sinful unbelief,
Eternal danger lurks.
Th