Poems

How will the Father, God of Life, reveal Himself to me? Where may I seek the Saviour, that he still my angry sea? How find the Star, how follow it, on through the city's glare? How know where they have laid him, or if he yet be there? Through every human concept that perceives a force divine The Saviour comes, in lowly guise, to touch your heart and mine; To bridge the gulf impassable between our sense and Soul To teach of Truth and purity, to cleanse and make us whole. Help us to see Thy presence, Lord, and trust in Thee each hour To read Thy loving message in the opening of the flower The glory of the western sky.

My doctrine shall drop as the rain, as the small rain upon the tender herb. —Deuteronomy.

" Hitherto ," and on forever Towers the mighty One, our Rock; Flows His love, a peaceful river For His seeking, thirsty flock. "Fear thou not, for I will help thee!" Clear and sweet the promise rings; Dark despair cannot enfold me, Hope renewed its paean sings.

Truth looks into my eyes And all the inner shadows flee. Truth looks into my eyes And deepest longing satisfies; With strength of the unfathomed sea And peace of morning purity, Truth looks into my eyes.

O Life of love, of peace, of prayer! That soothes all pain, removes all care Gives strength and gladness, makes men free Guards, guides, and leads the way to Thee. O Life of love, my joy complete! My fount of bliss O draught so sweet! I live in Thee, for Thou art mine Thou art the body, bread, and wine.

A splendor wakes upon the world once more— Hark to those elfin violet bells! For Spring has come, and cast her spells, And every bank becomes a palace floor. From meadows fair, illumed by rising sun, A song of melody divine— Of larks unnumbered—mounts with mine: The daylight dawns, behold the night is done! O white May-morning of this hour of grace! O life, awakening from the sod! To know ourselves, and know our God, Know and reflect the glories of His face: To know there is no sin, no selfishness In earth or heaven, His wide domain; There is no consciousness of pain, No parting pangs, no tidings of distress.

In springtime came a joyous, sunlit day; I would go out, but too long lingered o'er The poet's page, till clouds had changed to gray The glad, bright world. With disappointment sore My heart was filled, my books gave joy no more, 'Twas gone like flowers before the breath of north; When lo! another gleam of sunshine drew me forth.

If I could have the kindest thoughts for all The work life gives to me to do each day, I then would hear God's voice in duty's call, And know no other wish but to obey. There is a sermon in each task done well, With consecrated, loving hands,—indeed, A sermon glowing words could never tell: Each task, well finished, is life's highest creed.

If we knew how oft the pathway Seems obstructed; and the night Giveth not a star of promise, Daylight dawning, nor the light; If we knew the inward struggle, Faith that knows nor doubt, nor loss , Would we stop to judge a brother While he's clinging to the cross? If we knew how oft the weary In their thirst stood at "the well" Like our Master, would we listen, Then of "living waters" tell? We would pray for light and wisdom, Love that gives the healing touch, Ceasing e'er to judge a brother. Learning thus to love him much.

Strong tides of early sunlight sweep Across the quiet hills, Awaking grass and ferns from sleep, The trees, and lyric rills; White clouds, like sea-mews, skim the sky; Low purls the fragrant breeze; And robins from the pine-boughs nigh Make matin-melodies. 'Tis Easter morning, calm and clear, In spirit solitude; Hushed are the sounds of strife and fear, Hushed sorrow's carking brood.