Until the Day Break

Love is of God.

BELOVED, let us love: love is of God; In God alone hath love its true abode.

Beloved, let us love: for they who love,
They only, are His sons, born from above.

Beloved, let us love: for love is rest,
And he who loveth not abides unblest.

Beloved, let us love: for love is light,
And he who loveth not dwelleth in night.

Beloved, let us love: for only thus
Shall we behold that God who loveth us.

Until tbe Dag JSreafc.

FOR the vision of the Bridegroom
Waits the well-beloved bride,
Severed only for a season

From her Well-beloved's side.
For the hour when morn ascendeth,

And the shadows disappear,

For the signs of heavenly glory,

She is waiting, waiting here!

Morn of morns, it comes at last,
All the gloom of ages past.
For the day of days the brightest
She is waiting, waiting here!

For the coming of the Bridegroom,

Whom, though yet unseen we love, For the King of saints, returning

In His glory from above; For the shout that shakes the prison,

For the trumpet loud and clear, For the voice of the archangel,

She is waiting, waiting here!


For the light beyond the darkness,
When the reign of sin is done,

When the storm has ceased its raging,
And the haven has been won;

For the joy beyond the sorrow,

Joy of the eternal year,
For the resurrection splendour

She is waiting, waiting here!


For the day of ended battle,

For the victor's palm and crown, For the day of recognition,

When the King shall claim His own; For the day when He who loved her

Shall in glory reappear, For the day of revelation,

She is waiting, waiting here!



mtv/iara. — HEB. i. 14.

DOES the way seem long and lonely?
Does the silence whisper fear,
As if enemies were watching,
And no loving eye were near?
On each side are unseen friends;
Every step an angel tends.

Angel-legions all about thee,

Death and danger to repel;
Angels o'er thee and before thee,
What are all the hosts of hell?
Perils thicken, tempests chafe,
Fiends assail thee; thou art safe.

Angel-guards, how near and gracious;

Angel-shields, how broad and bright; Angel-eyes, how quick and tender; Angel-hands, how full of might! What a wondrous company, Pilgrim, waiteth upon thee!

Not the thousand times ten thousand

Of man's proudest war array,
Not the steel of bannered squadrons
Could thee shield so well as they,
Sent from heaven as ministers
Of the Kingdom's blessed heirs.

Hopeless oft may seem the ventures

Of the pilgrim-march below; Never will thy guards desert thee, Never fear to face thy foe; Caring for thee day and night, In the journey or the fight.

Gabriel, Michael,—who I know not,

May be leader of the host; Named or unnamed they will keep thee, Fearing, fainting, danger-tost; Wounded oft and battle-worn, Thou canst never be o'erborne.

Yet 'tis not angelic legions,

With their skill, and care, and might, That can guard thee from the perils

Of the darkness or the light.

'T is the King of angels who
Can conduct thee safely through.

Lean on Him to whom the legions

Of the angelic host belong, Captain of the heavenly army, True and faithful, wise and strong. Hands may slacken, eyes grow dim Only, only lean on Him.

TUnder Obg Sbaoow.

T TNDER Thy shadow,
*-' Shepherd and King,
Safe from all evil,

Under Thy wing.
Strangers and pilgrims,

Forwards we move,
Calm in Thy keeping,

Strong in Thy love.

Leaning upon Thee,

Close by Thy side,
In Thy communion

We would abide.
Closer still clinging,

Saviour, to Thee,
Daily our journey

Upwards shall be.

Goodness and mercy

Ever attend,
Guidance and keeping

On to the end;
Solace in sorrow,

Brightness in gloom,
Light everlasting

Over the tomb.

Counsel and comfort

Whate'er befall
Thou wilt afford us,

Saviour, in all.
Let Thy glad presence

Still with us dwell:
Nothing shall harm us,

All shall be well.

Faint yet pursuing,

Upwards we rise;
See the bright city,

Yonder the prize!
On to the haven,

To the calm shore,
In the fair city

Safe evermore.

July, 1883.

TReioice nn& be Glad.

REJOICE and be glad! The Redeemer has come!

Go look on His cradle, His cross, and His tomb.
Sound His praises; tell the story

Of Him who was slain.
Sound His praises; tell with gladness,
He liveth again.

Rejoice and be glad! It is sunshine at last!
The clouds have departed; the shadows are past.


Rejoice and be glad! For the blood has been shed! Redemption is finished; the price has been paid.


Rejoice and be glad! Now the pardon is free! The Just for the unjust has died on the tree.


Rejoice and be glad! For the Lamb that was slain O'er death is triumphant and liveth again.


Rejoice and be glad! For our King is on high! He pleadeth for us on His throne in the sky.


Rejoice and be glad I For He cometh again,
He cometh in glory, the Lamb that was slain!
Sound His praises; tell the story

Of Him who was slain.
Sound His praises; tell with gladness,
He cometh again.

Hbe Dag of Satisfaction.

WHEN I shall wake on that fair morn of morns,

After whose dawning never night returns,
And with whose glory day eternal burns,

I shall be satisfied!

When I shall see Thy glory face to face,
When in Thine arms Thou wilt Thy child embrace,
When Thou shalt open all Thy stores of grace,

I shall be satisfied!

When I shall meet with those whom I have loved, Clasp in my eager arms the long removed, When I shall find how faithful Thou hast proved,

I shall be satisfied!

When this vile body shall arise again,

Purged by Thy power from every taint and stain,

Delivered from all weakness and all pain,

I shall be satisfied!

When I shall gaze upon the face of Him
Who for me died, with eye no longer dim,
And praise Him in the everlasting hymn,

I shall be satisfied 1

When I shall call to mind the long, long past, With clouds, and storms, and shadows overcast, And know that I am saved and blest at last,

I shall be satisfied 1

When every enemy shall disappear,
The unbelief, the darkness and the fear,
When Thou shalt smooth the brow and wipe the

I shall be satisfied;

When every vanity shall pass away,
And all be real, all without decay,
In that sweet dawning of the cloudless day,

I shall be satisfied! 1873

©nig for a Season.

"T* IS only for a season;
J- How long we cannot tell,—
A quickly passing season,
And all will then be well.

We parted at the river;

They hasted on before,
And we behind them tarried

On this tempestuous shore.

They went to be with Jesus,
We could not stay their flight:

They rose above the darkness,
We still remain in night.

They sweetly sleep in Jesus,

Beyond the fear of ill;
Theirs is the blessed resting,

Ours is the watching still.

The day of meeting cometh,

The drying up of tears,
The day of glad reunion

In the long eternal years.

The parting was so bitter;

The meeting will be sweet,
The sweeter for the parting,

When we our loved ones meet.

We could not guess the purpose

Of parting us below.
But what just now we know not,

We shall hereafter know.

CULLODEN. July 10, 1874.

praise 0oetb up to Cbcc.

FROM this green earth of ours,
From this wide rolling sea,
From these fair hills and vales,
Praise goeth up to Thee.

From every field and plain,
From every flower and tree,

From every stream and rill,
Praise goeth up to Thee.

God of the heaven and earth,
Thou Lord of all we see,

From this creation of Thy hand,
Praise goeth up to Thee.

From men of every clime,
From lips of bond and free,

From age and infancy,
Praise goeth up to Thee.

From all that e'er hath been,
From all that yet shall be,

Of Thy vast handiwork,
Praise goeth up to Thee.

lour TRe&emptiOn Drawetb ffligb.

Luke xxi. 28.

I KNOW not in what watch He comes,
Or at what hour He may appear,
Whether at midnight or at morn,
Or in what season of the year;
I only know that He is near.

I know not what of time remains
To run its course in this low sphere,

Or what awaits of calm or storm,
Of joy or grief, or hope or fear;
I only know that He is near.

I know not what is yet to run

Of spring or summer, green or sere,

Of death or life, of pain or peace,
Of shade or sunshine, song or tear;
I only know that He is near.

I cannot tell my future lot,

Or that of those than self more dear; Nor guess how much of history

Still to the Church abideth here;

I only know that He is near.

The centuries have gone and come,
Dark centuries of absence drear;

I dare not chide the long delay,
Nor ask when I His voice shall hear;
I only know that He is near.

I do not think it can be long
Till in His glory He appear;

And yet I dare not name the day,
Nor fix the solemn Advent year;
I only know that He is near.

March 13, 1880.


Luke xv. 3o.

TN the land of strangers,

-*" Whither thou art gone,
Hear a far voice calling,

My son, My son!
Welcome, wanderer, welcome,
Welcome back to home!

From the land of hunger,

Fainting, famished, lone,
Come to love and gladness,

My son, My son!


Quit these haunts of riot,

Wasted, woe-begone,
Sick at heart and weary,

My son, My son!

Refrain. See the door still open:

Thou art still My own;
Eyes of love are on thee

My son. My son! r , .


See the well-spread table

Unforgotten one!
Here is rest and plenty

My son, My son! ,, , .


Thou art friendless, homeless,

Hopeless and undone:
Mine is love unchanging,

My son, My son! „ , .

1 '' Refrain.

Dec. 1881.

}n jflfte ge sball bave peace.

ENG days and nights upon this restless bed
Of daily, nightly weariness and pain !—
Yet Thou art here, my ever-gracious Lord,
Thy well-known voice speaks not to me in vain:
'In Me ye shall have peace!'

The darkness seemeth long, and even the light

No respite brings with it, no soothing rest For this worn frame; yet in the midst of all Thy love revives. Father, Thy will is best. 'In Me ye shall have peace!' p

Sleep cometh not, when most I seem to need
Its kindly balm. O Father, be to me

Better than sleep; and let these sleepless hours
Be hours of blessed fellowship with Thee.
'In Me ye shall have peace!'

Not always seen the wisdom and the love,

And sometimes hard to be believed, when pain

Wrestles with faith, and almost overcomes.

Yet even in conflict Thy sure words sustain :— 'In Me ye shall have peace!'

Father, the flesh is weak; fain would I rise
Above its weakness into things unseen.

Lift Thou me up; give me the open ear,

To hear the voice that speaketh from within :— 'In Me ye shall have peace!'

Father, the hour is come; the hour when I
Shall with these fading eyes behold Thy face,

And drink in all the fulness of Thy love ;—
Till then, oh, speak to me Thy words of grace:
'In Me ye shall have peace!'

'Written for my dear old friend James Watson, lying on his bed of pain. August 28, 1880.'

peace on Bartb.

HERE Peace alighted once,
But could not find a home.
To Him who brought it, Earth
Could give no room.

Him and His peace man would not have

And in this Child of peace Man saw no heavenly excellence,

No grace, no comeliness.

Peace in that cradle lay,
The Prince of Peace was there;

The fulness of His peace

He brought with man to share.

That crib all heaven contains;

Th' eternal Life there lay; There is the open Gate,

And there the living Way.

Illbete is ibe tbat Is born

Matt. ii. a.

WE went to Bethlehem,
But found the Babe was gone,
The manger empty and alone.
'And whither has He fled?'
'To Calvary,' they said,
'To suffer in our stead.'

We went to Calvary,

But found the Sufferer gone,

The place all dark and lone.
'Whither?' we asked.
'Into the heavens,' they said,

'Up to the Throne,
For us to intercede.'

So then to heaven we'll go;

The Babe is not below.

.Everlasting TRemembrance.

'O Israel, them shalt not be forgotten of Me.'—Is. xliv. 31.

FORGOTTEN! no; that cannot be:
*. All other names may pass away,
But thine, My Israel, shall remain
In everlasting memory.

Forgotten! no; that cannot be:
Inscribed upon My palms thou art;

The name I gave in days of old
Is graven still upon My heart.

Forgotten! no; that cannot be:

Beloved of thy God art thou, His crown for ever on thy head,

His name for ever on thy brow.

Forgotten! no; that cannot be:
He who upon thee named His name

Assures thee of eternal love,
A love for evermore the same.

Forgotten! no; that cannot be:
The oath of Him that cannot lie

Is on thy city and thy land,
An oath to all eternity.

Forgotten! no; that cannot be:
The grace of ages deep and broad

Is grace without decay, the grace,
O Israel, of the Lord thy God.

Forgotten! no; that cannot be:

Sun, moon, and stars may cease to shine, But thou shalt be remembered still,

For thou art His, and He is thine. Nov. 11, 1882.

STAY, stay behind me here, my busy thoughts,
While I go yonder for a little while;
Nay, do not follow me, let me forget
My city stir, and fret, and heat, and toil.

Tarry behind me: vex me, touch me not,
Ye endless aches of heart, and brow, and brain;

Vanish like mist, each scene that would recall
My vision to the crowd and street again.

Pursue me not: but let me calmly go
To the retirement which the Master sought,

Set free from all that would encumber me,
Or mar the oneness of the heavenly thought.

The stillness of the closet's stillest hush,
The lonely silence of the lonely wood,

The stream, the sea, the cliff, the dusky moor
Shall furnish me with fruitful solitude.

Tarry behind me for a season, then,
Beloved workers for the Master here;

I go that I may find in gentle rest
New fitness for the work so grand and dear.

Tarry behind, leave me, dear friends, alone,
Companions of my days and nights of toil;

I shall return to you refreshed for work;
Leave me alone with God, alone awhile.

I would return to work with you on earth,
The health of my whole man revived, restored,

Again to labour with you side by side,
In the one vineyard of our common Lord.

August 23,1882.