Poems of the Heart and Home Part 18

LONGINGS

Sleep, gentle, mysterious healer, Come down with thy balm-cup to me!

Come down, O thou mystic revealer Of glories the day may not see!

For dark is the cloud that is o'er me, And heavy the shadows that fall, And lone is the pathway before me, And far-off the voice that doth call-- Faintly, yet tenderly ever, From over the dark river, call.

Let me bask for an hour in the sun-ray That wraps him forever in light; Awhile tread his flowery pathway Through bowers of unfailing delight;-- Again clasp the hands I lost sight of In the chill mist that hung o'er the tide, What time, with the pale, silent boatman, I saw him away from me glide-- Out into the fathomless myst'ry, All silent and tranquillized, glide!

Let me look in those eyes so much brighter For the years they have gazed on the Son,-- On that pure brow grown purer and whiter In the smile of G.o.d's glorified One;-- Let me rest for a while with closed eyelids, On the bank of Life's river, to hear The song he has learned since he left me, Breathed tenderly sweet in my ear-- The song he has learned of the angels And saved ones, breathed soft in my ear!

_Thou canst not?_--what! hast thou not entered The gates of yon city of light?-- Not walked in the flower-bordered pathway Of the saved ones in raiment of white?-- Never stood on the bank of Life's River, Where gather the glorified throng?

Or glowed with emotion ecstatic 'Neath the swell of their rapturous song-- That song _he_ has learned since he left me, The redeemed ones' exultant, _new_ song?

O Saviour, the wounded heart's Healer!

I turn from my sorrow to thee, The gracious and tender Revealer Of glories thy ransomed shall see!

They will pa.s.s--the dark cloud that is o'er me, The shadows that darken my sky, And the desolate pathway before me Will lead to thy mansions on high;-- And with _him I shall rest in thy presence, Forever and ever on high!

FOUNT OF BLISS

"Yea I have loved thee with an everlasting love."

Love of G.o.d!--amazing love!

Height, above all other height, Depth no creature thought can prove, Boundless, endless, infinite!

Howsoe'er I sink or rise, Stretch my powers beyond, abroad, Pierce the depths or climb the skies, Find I still the love of G.o.d-- _Fount of bliss, exhaustless, free, Evermore unsealed for me!_

Love of Christ!--amazing love!

Vast as His eternity; Theme of angel-tongues above, Theme of souls redeemed like me!

Outward to creation's bound, Up to Heaven's serenest height, Universal s.p.a.ce around, Swells the chorus day and night-- _Fount of bliss, exhaustless, free, Evermore unsealed for me!_

Oh, these tongues that falter so When we sing of love like this!

Oh, these songs that, faint and low, More than half their sweetness miss!

Saviour, lift our music higher Till the notes to rapture spring!

Touch our lips with hallowed fire From thine altar while we sing-- _Fount of bliss, exhaustless, free, Evermore unsealed for me!_

AWAY TO THE HILLS

A HOLIDAY SONG.

Away to the hills, away!-- There is health in the summer air;-- The rustling bough, and the bending spray, And the breath of flowers are there-- The honey-bee's hum and the wild bird's song, And suns.h.i.+ne and summer winds all day long!

Away to the hills, away!

There are peace and calmness there-- White cloudlets floating in light all day Through the blue transparent air,-- Rose-tinted mornings and noontides rare, And sunsets of crimson and gold are there!

Away to the hills, away!

From your weariness and care-- From toil that has held on with tyrant sway, To quiet and calmness there; And bask in the beauty and bloom that fills The cool, sweet depths of the summer hills!

FLOWERS BY A GRAVE

Alien blossoms! tell me why Seek ye such a lonely place, Thus to bloom, and droop, and die Far away from all your race?

Wherefore, from the sunny bowers Where your beauteous kindred bloom, Have ye come, O banished flowers!

Thus to decorate a tomb?

"Mortal, dost thou question why Thus beside the grave we bloom?

Why we hither come to die, Aliens from our garden-home?

"'Twas Affection's gentle hand Placed us thus her dead so near;-- Tis at weeping Love's command That we breathe our fragrance here.

"Ask not why we wither here, Thou who ne'er hast tasted woe, Who hast never felt the tear Of bereaved affection flow,--

"Ask not, till thy household band By death's cruel stroke is riven, Till some bright bird'scapes thy hand-- _Then_ thy answer will be given!"

"THREE FOR THREE."

"Giving up three for one!"--mother, You said in the long ago, When father, yourself, and John, mother, I left, o'er the deep to go.

"Giving up three for one!"--mother, You said, and it sank in my heart; For tho' strong was my love for the one, mother, It was hard from the three to part.

But to-day, as I sit alone, mother, Rocking my little one's bed-- (Not Winnie's bed, dear, but her brother's--) I am thinking of what you said; And a sweet thought glads my heart, mother-- Can you guess what the thought can be?

'Tis, that tho' I'd but one in the start, mother, Yet now I have _three_ for three.

Yes, three for three, my mother, G.o.d is good to your wandering child, So far from her father and brother, And you, in this western wild!

And tho' her heart oftentimes yearneth For its loved ones over the sea, Yet ever it gratefully turneth To its home-ties--_three_ for three.

Aye, three for three, sweet mother, Say, am I not happy to-day?

Tho' something must ever be wanting, While far from you all away;-- Then thank the dear Lord, my mother, Who, afar o'er the lonely sea, Is blessing your absent daughter, With home ties--_three_ for three!

NOW.

"Now is the accepted time."