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Poems

Chapter 56: IDOLS. "What have I to do any more with Idols?"—Hos. xiv. 8.
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About This Book

This collection gathers lyrical pieces that trace the day's and year's cycles, moving through sunrise, morning, noonday, sunset, moonlight and seasonal scenes. It pairs brief landscape lyrics with sonnets, songs, and occasional narrative ballads, blending vivid natural description—mountains, streams, birds, and coastal views—with meditative reflections on mortality, faith, memory, and poetic ambition. The tone alternates between pastoral celebration and sober contemplation, favoring clear sensory detail, moral sentiment, and accessible stanza forms that foreground feeling and observation over formal experimentation.

IDOLS.
"What have I to do any more with Idols?"—Hos. xiv. 8.

Where'er the light of gospel truth
Has shed its glorious rays,
The heart casts off all shapes uncouth,
And shuns the wonted ways.
The hills assume a brighter mould,
The flowers a fairer hue,
We quit the fading and the old,
And seek the fresh and new.
The dark and dismal thoughts that brood
Within the carnal mind,
Are straightway changed to bright and good,
When there the truth hath shined:
As metals in the earth deep set,
Though worthless in its womb,
Refined by skilful art, do yet
Precious and rich become.
But man, degenerate from his birth,
Headlong in guilt is driven,
Still does his spirit cling to earth,
When it should rise to heaven.
To vile and perverse courses prone,—
The viler more his boast,
Rejects all guidance save his own,
And sunk in sin, is lost.
Like dark and savage men, that dwell
In soul-benighted lands,
That blindly worship things of hell,
The work of their own hands.
For hideous shapes, instead of dread,
They fierce devotion feel,
And the more hideous they are made,
The greater is their zeal.
Ye sinners that to Idols bow,
Let light illume your heart,
Leave earth-born things to earth below,
And seek the better part.
Come to the fountain free to all,
Drink of the living spring;
Before the cross of Jesus fall,
And own Him for your King.
Come from your dark unwholesome holes,
With hateful things within,
Come and seek comfort to your souls,
And walk no more in sin.
If self still claims the foremost place,
Where Christ should reign alone,
Self is the Idol that, through grace,
Must quite be overthrown.
The lust and vanity of life,
All pomp and pride of mind,
Are but the source of grief and strife,
And leave no joy behind:
Jesus alone is Sovereign King,
In Earth and Heaven above;
And why should we to Idols cling,
When we have Him to love?