The Mountain Spring, and Other Poems — Key Ideas to Explore

Peter was martyr to his faith; His rock, God's son whom he denied; This faith the key that unlocks death To realms where joy and peace abide. "Tell Peter!" Honey drops of love, Awaking all the choirs of heaven! "Tell Peter"--angels from above Shout, "Hear, O earth, and be forgiven!"

Regal the earth seems with diamonds today, Gemming all nature in blazing array; A picture more fairy-like never could be Than this wonderful icicle filigree.

A crystallized world! What a marvelous sight, Gorgeous and grand in the March sunlight! The frost-king magician has changed the spring showers To turquois and topaz and sapphire bowers.

And what is the lesson we learn from the sleet, As toiling life's road with wearying feet, Upward we strive, but failing so oft In the struggles that bear us aright and aloft?

'Tis this--that the hard breath of winter's chill blast Alone can this mantle of loveliness cast; And thus our sharp winds of trial may prove Angels to weave us bright garments of love.

Ye realms of beauty from afar, What speak ye to the saddened soul? What is the message of each star As ever ceaselessly ye roll? Thus do ye answer: "We declare God's glory; and to you 'tis given To cast on him your every care, For he hath wound the clock of heaven."

Ye hoary hills which have looked down On all the centuries of time, Have felt their touch without a frown, And with indifference sublime, What would ye speak, if understood, Of life with all its woes and ills? 'Tis this: to all they work for good Who love the maker of the hills.

The sun had set. He was alone; Mid twilight shadows he would rest. He laid his head upon a stone To woo sweet slumber for his guest.

Perhaps within those midnight hours His rugged bed was cold and chill, But wrapped in Dreamland's mystic powers, He knew no danger, felt no ill.

A vision in his dreams appeared! Angels were stepping to and fro Upon a ladder which, upreared, Aided their ministry below.

And then God spake in words which said What future ages would unfold, The soil on which he made his bed Was his, by prophecy foretold.

He further heard that holy voice Predict that through his tribe would be Blessings in which all should rejoice, Blessings which all the world should see.

Through Jacob would the gift be given Of Jesus to this sinful earth; God signified within this vision Glad news of our Redeemer's birth;

The star of Bethlehem would shine, That star of joy and peace and love, Our bleeding sacrifice divine To cleanse our hearts, our guilt remove.

If faith and praise in us abound Toward Israel's God, angels are near; His word declares they camp around All those who look to him in fear.

When Jacob woke, the ground he trod Seemed holy; and he named his stone "Bethel," which means "the house of God." With heaven so near, was he alone?

_Neither is there salvation in any other: for there is none other name under heaven given among men whereby we must be saved._--Acts 4:12.

Swiftly we float upon time's tide Adown the stream of years. Sometimes past hills of joy we glide, Sometimes through vales of tears.

Age follows youth, which, ere we know, Has vanished like a dream, And takes its glamour from the glow Of mem'ry's silvery gleam.

There is no halt; and more and more There seems an open sea Reaching us with its ceaseless roar-- It is eternity.

There is one Pilot that we need, One who can safely steer, One who at heaven's court can plead, And all our journey cheer.

'Tis Jesus Christ; and all who see In him the truth, the way, Are in possession of the key To heaven's eternal day.

_He heapeth up riches and knoweth not who shall gather them._--Psalm 39:6.

O soul, it is not thine, But lent to thee in trust That thou may'st make God's glory shine, Secured from moth and rust.

Thou can'st not take one mite Except as thou dost give And waft it in the golden light Where heaven's glories live.

Go look for those in need-- The hungry and the cold. Kind words and actions are the seed Which yield their fruits of gold.

Give to the heathen world Knowledge of Christ our Lord; Pray that his banner be unfurled; Send forth, his priceless word.

He lived for us and died, And intercedes above. His blood, a sacrificial tide, Redeems us by his love.

"Barbarian, bond and free, The wise and the unwise"-- 'Tis ours to give and theirs to see Salvation's blood-bought prize.

We know not 'neath the sky Who'll gather of our store, But if we lay it up on high, 'Tis ours forevermore.

Captives by Babel's limpid streams, We hung our harps on willows there; Wept over Zion; and our dreams, Waking or sleeping, she did share.

Our victors, with their battle arms, Derided, jeered, and scorned our tears; Required mirth, diversion's charms, To thus allay their guilty fears.

"Sing us a song" is their demand, "Yea, sing us one of Zion's songs!" How can our voices thus expand To what to us and God belongs?

How can we on this heathen shore, Surrounded by idolatry, Sing songs that unto us are more Than all their glittering pageantry?

Jerusalem, should we forget, We pray our hearts and tongues be still! Jerusalem! Oh, may we yet Worship upon thy holy hill.

Babylon, thou art to be destroyed! Thy doom's foretold in prophecy; And happy be the means employed To hurl thee to thy destiny.

_I that speak unto thee am he._--John 4:26.

She left her home that morn In fair Samaria's land, All heedless of her state forlorn, Sin-bound, both heart and hand. With prejudicial pride She scorned the meek request Of One who sat the well beside, With heat and thirst opprest. "Thou art a Jew," she said, "And asketh drink of me? Samaria's daughter was not bred To deal with such as thee." She would not yield a sip E'en if its maker sued, While he from love, with thirsting lip, Sought and her heart renewed. He made her ask for life, Eternal life through him, And "living water" was the type To her perception dim. O yes! She fain would taste And never thirst again, And never cross the burning waste In weariness and pain! Her life he questioned now; Revealed her history.

She must have blushed. How could he know? Here was a mystery! Abashed she now replied, "Thou art a prophet, sir!" And straightway sought with clannish pride Instruction's voice to hear; Instruction that will bless The world each passing day, For every spot man's feet may press, There may he praise and pray. The woman lent her ear, Then urged Messiah's plea. Amazing words she now doth hear, "I that speak unto thee am he." What joy! The angels too Must share it from above. She left her water-pot, and flew On feet made swift by love. Oh, will these tidings last? This news, it must be spread! "He knows my present, knows my past; This is the Christ," she said. That woman lost in sin Drank of the living spring, Then swiftly sped dead souls to win, And to that fountain bring.

Forbid that we should shrink To publish grace so free, For all who will that tide may drink And live eternally.

They begged that he would stay, Believed the truths unfurled, And joyfully received that day The Saviour of the world.

_Seeing he ever liveth to make intercession for them._--Hebrews 7:25.

When winding up the path of life, Sometimes mid thorns, sometimes mid flowers, Oft weary of its toil and strife, Oft weary of its wintry hours, There is one thought than all more sweet From care my longing heart to free; 'Tis this--oh, wondrous to repeat-- That Jesus intercedes for me.

And always when the path is steep, I cling unto this wayside rope: Nothing can give so great relief, Nothing can give a brighter hope. 'Tis like a stately spreading palm, Which forms my spirit's canopy, 'Neath which I breathe the soothing balm That Jesus intercedes for me.

And when I reach the sea of death, To sail its silent waters o'er, This thought shall calm my latest breath And waft me to the golden shore. Not only that my Savior died, The atoning lamb on Calvary, But--was there ever love so wide?-- Still lives and intercedes for me.

Eve must have wept to leave her flowers, And plucked some roots to tell Of Eden's happy, sinless bowers, Where she in bliss did dwell.

Roses and lilies, pansies gay, Violets with azure eyes, Her favorites must have been, for they Seem born in paradise.

And when they drooped, did she not sigh And kiss their petals fair, Thinking, "Alas, ye too must die And in our sorrow share"?

And then perhaps unto her soul This answer sweet was given, "Like you we fade and perish here; For you we'll bloom in heaven."

Roses and lilies are the type Of him who from above, The lamb of God, gave up his life, A sacrifice of love.

He was her hope in those sad hours Of blight and sure decay; The sin that drove her from her flowers His blood could wash away.

"Come unto me!" Ah, gentlest word E'er breathed in human ear! "I am thy Savior and thy Lord; Dear child, thou need'st not fear.

"Come unto me in sorrow's hour When life seems dark and drear; I'll shield thee from the tempter's power; Dear child, thou need'st not fear.

"Come unto me when hopes have flown Like leaves wind-swept and sere, When every joy thou may'st bemoan; Dear child, thou need'st not fear.

"Come unto me. I'll give thee rest, Will wipe away each tear; Come lean thy head upon my breast; Dear child, thou need'st not fear."

_But let all those that put their trust in thee rejoice._--Psalm 5:11.

November is so drear and chill Whilst making leafless branch and tree, Whilst sweeping over vale and hill With all her doleful minstrelsy. November wails the summer's death In such a melancholy voice, She has a withering, blighting breath; She does not bid the heart rejoice.

Yet why repine, thou stricken one? Grief is the common fate of all. This the refrain beneath the sun: Mortals must die, and leaves must fall. They'll live again, the leaves and flowers, When spring returns to bless the earth; They'll waken 'neath her sunny hours Through nature's touch to beauteous birth.

Hope in decay and do not moan That God has taken one we love: Why should our hearts be turned to stone When he is safe in heaven above? Redeemed through Christ, who was his trust, With him in realms of joy on high; For though down here "'tis dust to dust," The Christian lives beyond the sky.

Then in the autumn's woe rejoice,-- Rejoice in calm, rejoice in storm; In either hear God's tender voice, For both his holy will perform.

Away from the city, away from the crowd, Two comrades in sorrow traversed hill and dale; The gloom of their hearts did their faces enshroud, And clouds of distress only seemed to prevail.

Alone, as they thought; but a stranger unknown Inquired thus kindly the cause of their woe: "Of what are ye talking? Why are ye cast down, So burdened with care, as thus onward ye go?"

Cleopas thus answered, "A stranger art thou In Jerusalem, not knowing the things happening there?" "What things?" asked the stranger, desiring now Their lips should disclose what had caused their despair.

"Of Jesus of Nazareth, one mighty in deed, A wonderful prophet; him have they slain. To Israel's redemption we hoped he would lead, But why should we hope if hope is in vain?

"Some women who went to the sepulcher say That angels assured them he's living this hour, But they did not see him, and try as we may, It seems a false rumor of glory and power."

The stranger rebuked them ere he would teach What the prophets portray of Christ's sufferings here. Their souls were enlivened, but soon they would reach The village they sought, which too quickly drew near.

The stranger seemed passing, but now they entreat, "Abide with us here; the day is far spent"; They could not forego yet such fellowship sweet, And he entered in with them whither they went.

When supper was ready, they sat up to partake-- They and the stranger, in whom they delight. He blessed, as his custom, the bread ere he brake; They knew it was Jesus! And he vanished from sight.

"Did not our hearts burn within us," now they exclaimed, "As he taught of himself what the prophets record? We've seen him, we've heard him, and he is the same: He is Israel's Messiah, our Savior and Lord!"

We are travelers here on the highway of time, But he will go with us if we seek him aright. His strength will support us as upward we climb; Through his blood we inherit immortality's light.

_Until the day break, and the shadows flee away._--Song of Solomon 4:6.

Gleaming softly, silvery-faint, Heralded by chanticleer, Merging from night's shadowy taint, New day of the passing year!

Born to bless or born to blight, Born for you and born for me, Leaving, ere it take its flight, Impress on eternity!

'Tis a gift from God's own hand. On its pure unsullied page Let us write at his command What will bless our pilgrimage.

True repentance giveth joy To the angels in the sky. What could be more blest employ Than to cheer the choirs on high?

Deeds of patience, deeds of love, Banishing all hate and guile-- These will steer toward heaven above, These will make the angels smile.

May this child of time unite Earth and heaven in blest accord, Heathen nations see the light From the cross of Christ our Lord.

Coming is the glad daybreak, The prophetic jubilee; Sin will then all hearts forsake, Then will all the shadows flee.

Upon time's surging, billowy sea A ship now slowly disappears, With freight no human eye can see, But weighing just one hundred years.

Their sighs, their tears, their weary moans, Their joy and pleasure, pomp and pride, Their angry and their gentle tones, Beneath its waves forever hide.

Yes, sunk within oblivion's waves, They'll partly live in memory; To youth, who will their secrets crave, Mostly exist in history.

Ah, what a truth steps in this strain-- They are not lost within time's sea; Their words and actions live again, And blight or light eternity!

A new ship comes within our view, Laden with dreams both sad and blest; To youth they're tinged with roseate hue; To weary ones bring longed-for rest.

And still the stream of life flows on, Laughing beneath the century new. God's promise gilds the horizon; Mercy shall reign; his word is true.

_All my ways are before thee._--Psalm 119:168.

Awake, O soul, awake! Enter thy cell of thought, And there in calmness meditate On what God's word has taught.

There's nought within thy scope, No influence thou hast sown, No gloomy doubt, no joyful hope, But unto him are known.

Awake! but grovel not In ashes of despair, Christ's precious blood can cleanse each spot; Cast on him every care.

Before him are thy ways, But in his mercy free He further yet his love displays, And intercedes for thee.

Awake to holy fear And praise thy God on high; Be it thy joy to praise him here And praise him in the sky.

"Abide with us!" Where could we go? Thou art our strength, thou art our tower, Our refuge from the ills below, In darkness light, in weakness power.

"Abide with us!" We would prevail, And plead that thou be ever near To banish doubts when they assail, And give deliverance from fear.

"Abide with us" in words of love, For thou dost say, "Come unto me." Oh, guide us to thy home above To dwell in joy and peace with thee!

"For he is our peace."

O Bethlehem, where Christ was born And angels watched him where he lay, When cradled on that holy morn That ushered in earth's promised day!

O Bethlehem, it was thy star Which guided o'er the deserts wild Those who had journeyed from afar To gaze upon the sinless child!

O Bethlehem, 'twas thine to see God's choir announce the Saviour's birth, And hear those waves of melody Chant peace and good will to the earth!

O Bethlehem, 'twas thine to weep With Rachel o'er the crimson woe When cruel hands did vainly seek To quench heaven's radiance below!

O Bethlehem, we hear thy call To joy and bliss, and would not cease To praise him who has died for all Who will accept his blood-bought peace!

Ring out the bells of heaven! Obey the great command, That all may hear their melody On mountain, sea, and land, The chimes of glory sounding, Ascending to the sky; Jesus our Savior reigneth Forever more on high.

Ring how he bore our trials And sorrows here below; Of his lamb-like, sinless nature, Purer than falling snow; How he gave his life to banish The clouds of midnight gloom That brooded o'er creation And o'er the dreary tomb.

Ring of the well of Sichar And the everlasting tide, With which its sparkling waters His imagery supplied. Ring of his mighty power To comfort and to heal, His gentleness and sympathy In either woe or weal.

Ring of his blood that speaketh Than Abel's, better things, And to the guilty conscience Sweet peace and pardon brings. Ring how he burst death's fetters In rising from the grave, And from its lasting bondage Will all his people save.

Ring how he intercedeth And ever lives above For all who trust and serve him, Rejoicing in his love; Of the many mansions he's prepared Of everlasting rest, Whose joys no tongue can utter Nor tell how glad and blest.

Awake, then, to your duty, O church of Christ, awake! Behold the beauty of their feet Who the glad tidings take! Reach out and ring the bells of heaven; Blest be the hands that give The truth, that all who listen May hope and joy and live! Ah, 'tis a wondrous story! Good news to all the world! The gospel means glad tidings Wherever 'tis unfurled.

Great God, impart thy Spirit That all who love their Lord May see in life a flitting hour To obey and speak his word.

"Oh, no, my lord, she cannot stay; Cast out this bond maid with her mocking child, For they cannot be heirs with thine and mine." Abraham was sad, for he had prayed, "O God, That Ishmael may dwell within thy sight!" And now the message came to him, "Fear not! In all that Sarah says list to her voice. In Isaac shall thy seed be called. Also I'll make of Hagar's son a nation great, Because he sprang from thee."

Then Abraham rose At early dawn, and lading Egypt's child With water and with bread, sent her grief-worn With Ishmael to wander lone within Beersheba's wilderness. While yet the air Was cool, and nature locked in the embrace Of morn, likely the child was blithe and gay, Unheeding the sad face and drooping form Of her who doubtless turned from childhood's tents In tears of woe.

Thrilled with his Arab blood He raced along; and thus to fancy's ear He prattled on: "O mother, do not weep! The Princess Sarah cannot chide us now. We're free! I love the wilderness! I love The earth and sky! Look at those birds, Far as the fleecy clouds! And here Are flowers with which to wreathe my bow. With it I'll bring thee deer and fowl to dress, When by and by we reach a babbling stream Where we may safely dwell."

On, still on, Through arid plains, with blistering feet, Beneath a burning sky, they toil along. The lad no longer talks of birds and flowers, But begs for water--water just to cool His parching throat; and likely 'twas that when Noon's shadows mirrored the encircling hills, He saw the empty flask, and must at last Have fainted on the scorching sand.