The Mountain Spring and Other Poems Part 6

_Now when Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea._--Matthew 2:1.

Bethlehem, where Christ was born, Bethlehem, the Christian's star!

Bethlehem's prophetic morn Echoed ages from afar.

Where the shepherds heard the song Heralding the holy birth, Tidings that would right the wrong, News of joy from heaven to earth.

This the song the angels sang: "Peace on earth, good will to men."

Glory in the highest rang, Glory now and glory then.

Christ, the king of earth and heaven, Gave himself to cleanse our sin; Through his blood we are forgiven And eternal life may win.

Come to him with every woe; He has said, "Come unto me."

Better refuge none can know Whither to safely, gladly flee.

Well may hallelujahs ring O'er G.o.d's gift from heaven above; Yet, although the angels sing, Angels cannot tell his love.

NATURE'S LESSON

We traveled by a mountain's edge, It was September calm and bright, Nature had decked its rocky ledge With flowers of varied hue and height.

It seemed a miracle that they Should flourish in that meager soil, As n.o.ble spirits oftenest may Gleam forth through poverty and toil.

Below were rippling, sparkling streams Through meadows kissed by shadowy hills, Reflecting autumn's peaceful dreams Within those swift, translucent rills.

This lesson should these scenes impart As on the road of life we go, To do our duty and take heart, As flowers bloom and streamlets flow.

Perhaps in ages yet to be May flowers wave here e'en as today, These streams still rush in merry glee To cheer and charm who here may stray; But we upon Time's rapid tide Like morning mists will disappear; But if by faith to Christ allied, Heaven's glory is both sure and clear.

We look from Nature to her G.o.d; We feel his presence from above; We know that when the earth he trod, He preached through her his wondrous love.

What is there in our flitting years With this pure treasure can compare?

His love can wipe away our tears, His love can lighten every care.

THE MIGRATORY SWANS

A necklace in the depth of blue Of scintillating, silvery pearls, Which peering eagerly we view As gracefully it curves and whirls, Safely and swiftly, far away They seek the groves of date and lime; Naught can arrest and naught dismay From heights so lofty and sublime.

In dreams alone their wintry home Can haunt them with its ice and snow; Mingled with visions as they come Of s.h.i.+mmering waves where lilies grow And open lakes are fresh and clear, Fit mirror for a plumaged breast, Shaded by moss-grown trees. 'Tis here They'll dip and dive in gleeful rest.

Vanished! and vainly do we try To trace upon the distant air That scroll which written on the sky Told of the hand which led them there.

Could we upon our heavenward way From tempting snares as far remove And be as disenthralled as they, We'd plainer show a guiding love.

We skim too closely to the earth, We press too slowly for the prize, Let thoughts and cares of trivial worth r.e.t.a.r.d our journey to the skies.

Oh, let us watch and pray to have A loftier flight from transient things, Inspired like swans at last to lave In streams of bliss our wearied wings!

MINISTERING WOMEN

_And Joanna, the wife of Chuza, Herod's steward, and Susanna and many others who ministered unto him of their substance._--Luke 8:3. Mark 14:3-9. John 12:3-8. Matthew 26:6-13. Luke 7:37-50. John 11:3.

Those women who their Christ and Lord Aided by gentle ministry, Have gained their race a rich reward, Treasured in sacred history.

Joanna is unknown at court, Although ent.i.tled to be there; The record of her life's report In fadeless glory has its share.

Susanna's name is intertwined, A gem as sparkling and as clear As those with which it is enshrined; And this is all we know of her.

And those whose names have not been given Are now in realms of light and love, Praising him mid the choirs of heaven, Crowned with his joy and peace and love.

Mary of Magdala was brought From mysteries strange and dark and drear To heights with joy and gladness fraught; She radiates a l.u.s.ter clear.

Those chimes from Bethany will ring With power that will not, cannot die; Martha's and Mary's names will sing Long as the flitting centuries fly.

That spikenard, which 'twas wholly meet Mary should pour upon his head, Has filled with fragrance rare and sweet Succeeding ages as they've fled.

And when a critic standing near Censured her act, misunderstood, Christ spoke so that the world might hear; He said, "She hath done what she could."

This her memorial while the sun Traverses the blue dome of heaven, Fulfilling while time's cycles run Christ's prophecy which then was given.

Unto the end these faithful few, Regardless of all pain and loss, Did what their hearts and hands could do, Though bowed with wonder at the cross.

Such love they could not understand, Such love unto his latest breath; That love had our redemption planned Both in his life and in his death.

They haunt the tomb in which he lay, Grief-stricken, desolate, and lone; But Magdalene at break of day Found that her precious charge was gone.

Two angels said, "Why weepest thou?"

The angels knew ere they inquired.

They knew her heart could triumph now, These sinless ones by love inspired.

She, weeping, told her loss and woe, Then answered thus a questioner near: "Sir, if thou dost his refuge know, Tell me. I seek him vainly here."

"Mary!" She listened to her name Uttered by Christ, her risen Lord.

"Master?" her trembling lips exclaim, Then wondered, wors.h.i.+pped, and adored.

Her joy is ours! Oh, may we see That joy more plainly every day!

Christ lives and loves eternally,-- Swift feet such tidings should convey.

Eternal life and heavenly rest He purchased by death's agony, That whosoever will be blest With glorious immortality.

May we our sisters of the past In life and character revere, Like them be faithful to the last, Like them be loving and sincere.

First must the gospel plan of love To every land and tribe be given, Ere He'll return who from above Is G.o.d's best gift to earth from heaven.