Poems — Context and Discussion

And thought of years gone by; Then tapped on latticed windows, Heard naught only my sigh.

The house was cold and empty-- A stranger's home, they say; The voices hushed of dear ones, Loved footprints passed away.

In fancy then I peopled The place with moving life, The halls again resounded, With laughter, song and fife.

In father's arms I nestle, Caressing soft, dark hair; I beg for one more story, Or breathe my childhood's prayer.

My heart cries out, when fancy Brings mother back to me, Her loving care o'er shadows The past sweet memory.

The house now grows resplendent With joys of former scene, My brothers loved so dearly, And life a happy dream.

Our uncle, kind and tender, The cousins, buoyant, gay; My playmates calling for me, To school we his away.

Awakened from my dreaming, Time speaks of saddened years, Two-score more, and voices hushed. Flow now, ye pent-up tears!

Oh, voices hushed, where art thou? A stranger lone I stand. Good-bye, good-bye, old homestead; Farewell, sweet mystic band.

I would tell thee of Stella, how she made glad the hours, So oft calling mother with strewn wreaths and flowers, Blue eyes fondly glancing, and gleefully dance, While singing so gayly or skipping, perchance.

Then comes my son Ernest, an affectionate boy, So true and so thoughtful, never aught but a joy, E'er steady and happy, eyes earnest and clear; His dear voice so merry, methinks I still hear.

I would say of Marie, that she is very fair, With ways of a lady, and golden-waved hair; She scolds and laughs sweetly, while people all tell, With curls and long lashes, she'll yet be a belle.

Then rosy-cheeked Bertha, whose housewifely care And womanly habits call forth praises rare; Small, winsome maiden, whose large, tender heart, To blame makes thee timid, thy tears swift to start.

Tall, slender Celesta, whose spiritual face, And excelling talents could a palace well grace; Five faces so pretty, eyes brighter than gems, And hearts kind and loving is why I love them.

~My First Gray Hair.~

One day amid brown tresses there gleamed a silvery thread, Life pages, past and present I wonderingly then read. I saw a blithsome maiden, a child serenely fair, A woman heavey laden now lifts her first gray hair.

O silvery strand, thou soft kiss of time, The beauties of youth are now past, are now past. For evening of life are pleasures unknown, 'Tis love, only love, that will last, that will last.

Upon the shadowy threshold the small gray strand did lay, And told the old, old story of ever changing day; Within the mystic portals of life's near ending stream I stood and pondered vaguely, if death were but a dream.

I viewed the snow-white message and thought of bygone years, The hopes, the waging conflicts, joys mingled oft' with tears. Tell me, thou thing of pearl hue, what will the future greet? Will paths be strewn with roses, or thistles tear my feet?

A whisper floated near me in accents sweet and low, "My child, what'er thy portion, if tares for thee will grow, Thy soul keep pure and stainless, a crown thy brow shall wear, 'Twill shine with whitest tresses, that once was nut-brown hair."

~Life's Curtain Unrolled.~

Glad boyish voices with merriment ring, Two children with nought, as gayly they sing Of burdensome care, their hearts as the bird To mountains oft' soar in freedom, unstirred By future, and what it furtively brings Of pleasures, or grief, or life's bitter stings. The shadowed cross e'er failing to see, Thoughts flitting as bubbles on oft' changing sea.

From childhood spring youths with fair open brows, Surrounded by all earth ever allows Of conquering fame, while life's deepest charm They sip from the fount of love's laden balm. Of treasures untold to reap they aspire, At vanity's fair rich harvests acquire, Over this vision in mystery toss, A shadow that lifts, unveiling a cross.

In wonder they gaze at spectre so white, As softly it beams in silvery light, 'Mid silence it pleads--they pause all aghast-- 'Tis Jesus who calls, His Cross in their path, Cross misty with tears, with sacrifice fraught, While deeply inlaid with sorrows 'tis wrought, Divided from world by widening stream It leadeth through pain earth's conquests a gleam.

Shall I? Shall I not? Self-questioned each youth, Take up this Cross all laden with truth? Shall lingering fear of poverty's vale, The scoffing of friends if honors should fail, Bar us accepting a promise of love By way of the Cross--the gift from above? Silently each life's curtain unfurled, One bends to his Cross, one flees to the world.

Two pictures are drawn on life's beaten page, The faces once seen have ripened with age; The purpose of each, their loved ones a dower, And conflicts of life are wielding with power. Surfeited was one with all earthly lusts, His soul he'ed surrendered to prince of earth's trusts; One bearing a Cross, e'er toiling for right, Walking with Jesus in spirit waxed bright.

There's pictured again in oft' changing scene, A tottering form appears in the dream, Furrowed his face from indulgence in sins, Eternity lost, to gold fondly clings. He'd bartered his soul a few years to live, And sinking the grave has nothing to give, Unloved and embittered e'en cross once refused, Gleamed sadly through mists then slowly withdrew.

Our vision once more life's curtain unrolled, And walked beside one with jewels untold, Unfurrowed his brow though whitened the hair, Eternally blest when freed earthly care. The cross he'd accepted oft' riven in tears, And humble his walk through life's fleeting years, Had given sweet peace as only those know Who've tasted of wealth Christs' love doth bestow.

On starlit height, distant 'gainst horizon, bright The Way of the Cross is outlined, By rocky steeps barren 'mid dangers unseen, A narrow straight pathway doth wind. The sighing winds whisper of sacrifice, toil, And foot-prints where pilgrims have trod Are crimson and tear-washed, where fissures are rent Wierd spirits of pain flit abroad.

A woman in sadness e'er watching this Cross Revealed in the morn of her life, To travel o'er mountains alone through the storm Means suffering and wearisome strife. 'Mid pitfalls of doubtings and barriers high, A valley called Vale of Delight, Appears to her vision, its beauties aglow With charms all alluring to sight.

Its meadows are tinted by golden-hued lights, Unruffled its waters, they chime With harmonic singing, while world-wedded dance To musical rhythm and time. Red wine floweth freely, with jingle of gold Jests mingle with laughter so gay, In Vale of Delight merry banquets and balls Turn quickly the night into day.

The woman enraptured by dazzling display-- Yet holiness loveth and right-- Back to the mountains she turneth her gaze, There gleaming through mists beyond heights, Is glittering sheen of sparkling gemmed spires, A city of pearls beyond steeps; But Calvary's Cross is path to its gate, In sorrow she bitterly weeps.

In Vale of Delight seems earthly repose, And freedom from sorrow and pain; But pleadings of Jesus appeal to her heart, In City of Lovelight doth reign. His spirit so gentle o'er floweth with good, With kindliest tokens of love; The promise He giveth beyond vale of tears-- Eternal abiding above.

To City of Holies she pleads with her Lord, Help me in Thy mercy come in; Keep me from slipping o'er precipice deep, Laid for all in Valley of Sin. Then journey to Starworld she finds full of thorns, Sore-pressed on the way by life's care, Till crieth she, "Saviour, though saving Thy Cross, Its burdens most grievous to bear".

Life's duties demanding a sacrificed heart By trials hedged on either side, Yet beauty of holies celestial with love, I long for thee what e'er betide. Her Saviour upholding, foes dropping by way, She trustingly presses her flight, When sin all surrendered and laid upon Cross In peace with Christ enters Lovelight.

We are told of a beautiful land of love, Of bright jeweled mansions in blue skies above; Of mansions that glitter with diamonds and gold; While air of sweet odors their fair walls enfold, Of heavenly music, soft, thrilling, divine, Fountains that sparkle, and bright suns that shine, Birds of gay plumage with song fill the air, Flowers all lovely and crowns with gems rare.

All this we are told and many things more, Of Heaven's fair Jordan, an evergreen shore; Its golden gates ever are standing ajar, Where fall huge burdens we have carried so far; Shining-robed angels there welcome us home, Joyously lead us through fair fields to roam; Heaven alive with sweet praises shall ring, We bow at the throne of our Saviour and King.

Blessings there are bestowed just suited to all, No more vain regrets, no more tears to fall, No hearts there to ache, no sins to repent, No leaving of friends, nor wrongs to resent, No asking of bread to be given a stone, No needle-worn fingers that ache to the bone, From this fair land all life's cares have flown, Queen happiness reigns and love is her crown.

~For I Long to be There.~

Dear Father in Heaven, to Thee I would raise A petition, and speak to Thy bountiful praise. At Thy throne of grace I would offer one prayer: Take me to Thyself, for I long to be there.

Dear Saviour, I plead, Thou art tender and kind, O'er flowing with love, for me Thou canst find A safe resting place, that is free from all care; Press me to Thy heart, for I long to be there.

Fair angels of light, who with melodies sweet Make beautiful homes a celestial retreat, In happiness pure, a full part I would share, I'd come to your home, for I long to be there.

While pleasures are few and hope but a name, While worldliness reigns o'er all things the same, Our joys are in dreams of bright Eden fair, I'd flee to Thy rest, for I long to be there.

I am weary of life, the burdened-filled day, On the echoless shore in peace I would stray, Forgetting all sorrow for Christ will it bear, O take me to Jesus, for I long to be there.

Sometime the golden gates will lift, I know not how nor when 'twill be, My soul, the one immortal gift, Will stand beside the changeless sea.

Lift up, ye gates, ye golden gates, A soul would come before the throne; Lift up, ye gates, ye golden gates, Ring out, O bells, in rapturous tone.

Sometime this poor world's light will fade, I'll walk alone the unknown way, But Christ my sins long since hath paid, My home was purchased Easter day.

Sometime the silver cloud will break, While glory pure my spirit thrills, We'll see our friends, the crystal lake, Rest in sweet peace by love-lit rills.

Sometime my cross a crown will prove, Sometime my tears will jewels be, Sometime all doubts Christ will remove-- Blest be the time, eternity!

Ring out, oh, ye bells, in soft measured chime, Sweet melodies breathe in rythmetric rhyme, The murmuring winds bring song from afar, For one we have loved is crossing the bar.

Ring gently, ye bells, the soul on its way, Would not be disturbed by discordant lay; In peace it would stem the river that flows O'er rocks crimsoned by humanity's woes.

Ring slowly, Oh, bells, death's pitiless dream Rolls eagerly on, a maddening stream; The sufferer sighs for a haven of rest. And longs to be borne to homes for the blest.

Ring thoughtfully, bells, a prayer would ascend To Father of love, this soul to befriend. While waiting, a voice is waft o'er the sea-- "Hast heard of a Christ? He speaks--I am He."

Ring peacefully, bells, the wanderer soothe, In lullaby song, as in cradle of youth; No whispering doubts, no question of whence, Outpouring to mar, of love calling hence.

Ring joyfully, bells, no tempests now toss-- The Valley of Death is lit by a Cross. Ring glad happy strains of love's richest song, Our dear one has fled with a heavenly throng.

~The Ministering Soul.~

On Canaan's fairest borders, in thought, I seemed to stand, I'd left my broken palace for this long-wished-for land. On earth for me they're mourning, friends weeping sad and low, It seemed the bells were sobbing, my joy there none could know.

Most Gracious King, One Lord in Three, All Heaven in anthems rung, Hosanna, praise, triumphantly, Rejoice for the lost Christ won.

On earth, loved ones were sighing around my vacant chair, Our risen Lord forgetting, smiles turn to lines of care; In Heaven the waves of gladness, from gate to gate doth roll, And Christ now changed my spirit into a ministering soul.

From beauties of Christ's kingdom, I came to earth by night, To mine I whispered comfort, breathed of celestial light; I hovered near the aged, who sorrowed till the end, And soothed the restless slumbers of those who knew no friend.

Into the lowly dwellings, where mother's cheeks grew pale, I kissed the fading forehead, and hushed the infant's wail; The wrath of men appeasing, to weary laborers gave A greeting smile, and told them Christ came on earth to save.

Moan not, O bells, but joyous ring out your Christian souls, Eternity, all wondrous, brightly to them unfolds; From death to life their changing, let glorias float afar, Our loved, our lost, are watching, within the gates ajar.

The home of my soul, worn and weary, And pierced by the rocks of old time, The windows grown dim and the key-boards Were mute to the wind's whispered chime. The pillars were trembling; the pitcher Was full to the brim, running o'er With burdens, hurled oft' at the fountain, And closed were the gates evermore.

Old castle of hopes and of tempests, I bid thee a loving adieu, Thou sheltered me oft' from the cloud-bursts, The winds blowing fiercely on you. My soul now arises on pinions, And wings through terrestial space, By planets all gleaming with starlight, I stand with my Lord, face to face.

O, Master, I cry, the old temple, Thou gavest on earth passed away, I come to thee houseless, unsheltered, Hast room in Thy mansion to-day? I left Mother Earth in the night-watch, And travelled alone to thy gate, Hast mercy for me, dearest Master, Do I plead for thy pardon too late?

Dear Master, sore trials beset me, My feet slipping oft' by the way, Temptations and doubt, overwhelming, From Thee, led me often astray. My cross was oft' covered with roses, Just hiding the sly, cruel thorn, My homestead built out of dust only, Has crumbled; to-day I am born.

Just born in the light of thy kingdom, Hast house in thy domain to give? A homestead to fill with the loved ones, Where with Thee in peace we may live. I know that my spirit is earth-stained, I'd wash it in yon flowing stream, I've come, oh my Saviour, all broken, Are hopes to be only a dream?

He turned with a look of compassion, His voice, as sweet waters and low, My child, I've a palace built for thee, Which time nor rude winds can o'erthrow. I've watched thee in all of thy wanderings, E'en when thy homestead of clay fell; I list for thy knock at our portals, Heard thee faintly ask, "Is all well?"

When doubts have assailed, I would press thee, In sorrow, stood oft' by thy side; I've quelled maddened waves as they dashed thee, Soul, ring heaven's bells and abide. Thy footsteps shall fall in soft places, And by mirrored waters can'st roam; Thy kindred, thy Father, shall greet thee, To peace, beauty, love,--welcome home.

Father, before Thee I am kneeling In gratitude and love, Sad, weary years I sought, appealing For succor from above. My cries seemed wild as unavailing Before Thy chastening rod, My spirit in the strife oft failing To trust Thee, O my God!

When floods of sorrow o'er me sweeping, Thy hand I could not see; Then Thou, when heart and strength were yielding, Bade me to cling to thee. Strength from Thy promise gave endurance To stem, to cross the flood; I thank Thee; rest in blest assurance Of Jesus' cleansing blood.