These are our kindred whose souls linger near their dwelling place.
Their light still on our memories gleam, bright before our face.
Death cannot them destroy, or blot out their secret memories.
That grows upon the lilies, and fades before the rays of noon.
Beneath the sun that shines in stillness, upon this living shore.
A Meditation—Life
I see the people out on the plains—from the distance they call to me. Come and march with us for a day, and be one of the people of the plains. Floating along with the winds that blow—the great human sea.
I love the sage and the vintage that grow, and the oaks that stand in chains. I love the music sung with the wings of the dust through the fields of chaffing grains, shadowed beneath the azure light of the hill's refrains.
Move, you angels of speed, across the white serenes. You rocks of earth stand still. You seas that lash with a turbulent rage shall all obey my will. I will watch by the things that strive and love, till all the earth be filled.
You teeming hosts a' moving on—I love the things of life. You serene glories of the sun's meridian gleam across the extending plains of white; that love and live in the dust of the earth, beneath the sun's great light.
Move you children with the speed of fire; I love those wings that sing in their strength, and might. Haste the speed of the soul that the living mind be right, you things that live in the light of the day—I hate the things of night.
Gather on the plains like clouds all spectered with black and gray. The things of speed shall dwell sublime, though the things that wait shall pass away. I shall call to those of my own in the midst of the sea; I shall wait for those that pray.
There is a light that shines with those that tell of the speed and power. Of the soul that hastens to the things of right in the days of their fleeting hours. Of the things that live in the love of light you people that is of power.
A Meditation—Our Praise
Mosier of the ages hear the children when they cry. Out on the plains they pray. Hold aright the storms that sweep over, bear the tempest far away. The chief of Jehovah's tribune—his hosts above the azure lights of gray. His spirit searches over the plains through all the souls of day.
We have a refuge in the light of the first morning, made brighter by the noon. Unfolding from Zion's harbor unto all the saints upon the spectered earth is strewn. Jehovah's gift descending through the gloom. A great rock that was cut out above the earth, but not with hands was hewn.
Then by the river of Zion all his saints shall meet once more. The angels in their salvation shall set his children then before. When the king descends to welcome his hosts upon that living shore, in one speech all voices of earth his high praises shall sing while crossing over.
This is when the afterwhile has become the present, and the day to come is just now. When those who hasten to be saved before his throne they bow. The tears of grief shall be no more for ever. The call comes forth to know just how. You saints shall answer with the light of life sealed on every ransomed brow.
A Praise—A Charge to The Spirits
Blow! O blow on the rocks of time you silent winds divine. Glitter on the mountain heights you rifting specters bright. Marching on you hosts of the senless quite. Out in that day of every soul that's neither dark or light.
Know you your place and name and who it is you be. It is the hand of a higher one leads thee through eternity. A price was paid, its value true, back in the ages one day; as onward through the shadows gleam the vampires wing their way.
The tiny feet disturb not the dewdrops, as on the rose of Sharrion's breast they lie. You lights upon the stillness, you unseen passers by. How old are you thou tiny might that never has been still? Before the mountains were brought forth or the sands were in the hills.
With you let not sorrow, grief or pain, as in your house of clay which you oft regain. It is not yours to demand to give forth or to say. But it is of him who paid the price back in an ancient day. By him who created us of nature, to walk in nature's way. Haste you spirits of silence and tell me what you know; you lights against the walls like shadows of the snow.
I am not with thee; you make me hate you in my dreams. Except thy feet have been dipped beneath the fountain streams; or have fallen with Lebannon's cedar from the heights of boze. And grown up again in the springtime with the seed of Sharrion's rose. And been judged in the dewdrops by the morning star. And been tested by Judah's lion with all his might and power.
Come then, you messengers of love, and gladness, and speak when I am not awar. In the silence of the night time when turmoils and strife are o'er. Pass over the starry valleys where maidens slumber beneath the shades of time. They shall be mothers without sin sublime. Forget not the pine upon the mountain or the vine that droops from the wall. Tender as the orchard bloom that lingers till the day of fall.
Why make you sin of the things that are sacred? Did Mosier tell you so? To change the heart of nature for things that would not grow. It was Satan who stood about the city with his host of fiends, and accused the highest saints of Jehovah of the vilest sins. Cease not then in your trend of events, you travellers weep no more. For the workman of Nazareth he has bridged the river o'er.
A High Praise—Salvation
Are oftimes calmed by the silent speech of those that are dead.
Ministering souls of Mosier in the great vineyard of careers.
Mosier's saints as they linger near.
A High Praise
In sheep and cattle and wealth untold.
He also worshiped Jehovah; this was that king Simon in the days of old.
Great respect he had for Jehovah, moving on in the laws of light in the things he was told.
There is a sacrifice in Zion and I want to be there to pray."
Perhaps he will respect these mites of ours before his altar we convey.
Jehovah had hid his face from the children of the world, and taken his spirit away.
His son, assailed with their wrath, sang beneath the diheftie in the gates of the city that day.
Come down you king, or we will crucify you and your fold."
But tears of sorrow for one among man, only revealed the thoughts of his soul.
A High Praise
O you wonders of life praise him who rules over our changing wills.
I see them glitter for an instant through the azure ways, and are not found at all.
I will tell you where the fallen stars are found—in the treasure of the prince of Galilee.
Out of the darkness of the night into the light of day.
Changing the stars in their courses so bright; teaching the speeding sun to shed his light.
Holding the earth in its place aright; ruling the seas with his powerful might.
If the soul shall cry, the prince shall hear the Lord whose high spirit is always near.
Who is he that holds creation in its perfect mood?
He is almighty, yet you can help him; you can if you would.
As the saints believe in his greatness, these are the things the Lord will do.
A High Praise
Alleuher with sin I am done, I believe on your son, I am saved by the love of the sanctified one.
What more can he say, than to me he has said? Showing mercy to the sinner, and raising the dead.
If Jairus had not believed, surely he would not have seen the salvation of Mosier, his power supreme.
The children came to seek him. O how they loved him then, O praise his high spirit that is given to men.
Yonder comes then that woman, a sinner to her people to say, "Mosier rests by our city, it is time that we pray."
O how the children love him, because that he is ever true. His kingdom is with power, all the ages through.
A High Praise
King Mosier traveled through the land. He healed the sick, both of the rich and poor. He cast his spirit upon those in sorrow, and their sorrows were no more.
King Mosier went down to the pool of Solomon, where the sick were lying upon the shore. He bid them arise, be on the way, and their diseases were no more.
King Mosier went down to Bethany, where the dead were waiting in the tomb. O, death fell from its throne, and delivered up his own, to this power of Mosier that's known.
A Praise
From over the beautiful sea of memory.
The deep wide sea, the great high sea,
My beautiful sea of memory.
Some are aged like, and hazed in the light of gray.
Others are as the roses that bloom in May.
Come sailing to me along by the shore through the whole day.
As the stars over the deep blue sea. Sailing along those that love me.
My beautiful ships the light of the mind.
Sailing out of the yesterdays to me.
Over the deep wide sea, the great high sea,
My beautiful sea of memory.
A High Praise
I sing of the great king who reigns in a city far above the star strewn blue. He is master and king over all creation, over the heaven and its angels, and the earth with its people, too.
There is a story true as the ages are old, sung by all the children of nature, calling the ancient times unto the present fold. Singing all the children of the great king these anthems as the ages roll.
High as the heavens above the earth, so high are his ways. Just children speaking of things in deeds and plays. Jehovah is higher, the great creator, he who gave one for the salvation of our days.
A High Praise
Over the rampage of the ages wild, came the voice of Mosier to me. As the sighing winds blow over the mountains and orchard valleys, ye stealthy lights that gleam upon the seas; most assuredly have you been born again. Have your souls been reclaimed by my spirit—I who holds that light of Calverie. Do you know me for yourself and not by another? are the souls that are known of me.
From the surging streams of the northland sealed, of the blue that shines across the earth revealed; unto all you souls that pray. Do you hear my voice in harmonies as the vespers play? As the sighing winds pass over the mountains most assuredly have you been, reclaimed by me. I have a torchlight descending from my father's throne. I who bare the sorrows of the world alone.
Is sorrow and pain turned to joy before thee; do you love death as the others love life. Is there no secret sin with thee, as with them of unjust strife? I am your strength in this way, I keep for you the eternal treasure of love and life. My father and I have made ourselves known unto thee, you saints of light; most assuredly as the sighing winds pass over the mountains you rest beyond the night.
A Praise—The Answer
We sought the way that leads to Zion, and Jerusalem our home.
And in the highway he has walked before us, he will ever care for his own.
When we enter the hilleued hills of Zion, O why not come and go with us there?
But to us Mosier is a real friend ever, and he is our glorious king, too.
Memory
I passed through the valley of beauty, of things that were hidden away.
To the east and to the west and to all the horizon
There were hills and mountains of blue, and gold, and gray.
There were flowers that bloomed in the shade of a thousand lights.
There were stars that shone from the heaven, writing in the silent speech of the night.
They had sung and laughed and some times would cry or pray.
As I or you live in the trend of this song that ends in the close of the day.
A Praise—In Memory of Keturah
She once knew distress, hunger and tears.
But now they feed her at Alleuher's own table through the centuries and years.
O Alleuher's great tribune watching over the earth and its hosts of tears.
O Alleuher, the angels unfolding the glories of heaven to me,
And I rise with the hosts' glad refrain above the earth and the sea.
A Praise—The Answer
Let us cross over the river and rest in the beautiful valley beyond the shadows of tears.
Shall we meet somewhere after a while?
As the evening draws nearer, upon the long road as we wander, greeted by our redeemer's smile.
All glittering over the world, His hosts upon higher plains, I shall know I am one of his train.
Changing as the drifting snow, till the Redeemer calls together the souls from sorrow here below.
A High Praise
A great host came praising him through the way.
A blind man was Barnabas, who heard some one say,
"It is Jesus the prophet of Galilee—unto whom the people praise and pray."
This we say to you that you may be content, and in your place to stay.
"I'll tell you I think this prophet is nowise of Galilee.
But Jehovah's own son, who has come to earth that such as we may see."
The light shines from our father's throne to the living man, out over the earth and the seas.
Then Mosier said, "you that callest unto me speak in truth clear and plain.
For behold I go up to Judah and there for the world to be slain.
That I should arise from the dead today, in my father's glory to reign."
A Praise
Let not satan deceive you as along the way you go.
If you have not the truth of Mosier with you, life truly is in vain.
It will turn to sorrow as in the revelrie you seek for honor and fame.
It will turn to vexation, all your deeds are plainly seen.
Your might soon fades in the swelling vortex as brown changes the green.
And when you can strive no longer, Satan's falsehoods hover over the scene.
He will give you high life and glory, you will have a good time all the way.
Then when the old house begins to shatter, brighter is life's star above the day.
The angels linger near to bear the ransomed soul away.
A Praise—The Kingdom
Through the many that is dimly burning ascends high the light of Zion.
Preparing the world for his father's throne, through all the souls to him that pray.
The angels with him shall reign, the great infinite throng.
The kingdom of all creation he delivers up as an obedient son.
The Song of the Serpent
We went to Calvary and stood just away. The prince of glory was there, in the hands of the people, who crucified him that day: Out on Judah's green hills, arrayed in the light of white and gray.
We went to watch through the ages, the things that the wicked would do. The works of the evil all the way through. They have crucified his saints in all nations of the earth. All of his saints that were true.
From the gates above Zion the Lord shall descend. His fiery wheels flaming with power—scattering the wicked of men. Who have slaughtered his saints in prisons of horrid death; whosoever were known among them.
A billion angels at his right, intermingling with others—the saints of might. Who has ascended from death, enthroned with his light. Those that were burned in the fire by the wicked, to spite. Comes inclosing the evil in their eternal dark night.
The voice of the serpent,—that whispers from the mire of the sea. Or that sigh of the evil, from the dust ascending before thee. Each soul is still weeping—each heart in sorrow alone. Or that mind of the living that fell from his great throne.
What joy thought the evil, that wandered in sorrow's broad trend. My soul has heard a wailing, as the song of the serpent by men. O souls what ail thee, its envy's dark cloud broader than the earth, and deeper than the sea. Spread over the spirits—their wicked melee.
They were a war of those that danced, in the trend of sorrow's vulgar wail. As the serpent held them by the hand, they knew that they were inshrouded in the evil dark vale. But "lo, lo," cried the company, "you shall not from us depart, for even the soul that shall fail."
Your door that stands closed, as a storm that darkens the noon. O soul of envy atroped senility that bloom. O you mind of the wicked, the close of the day has arriven so soon. No deeds of mercy, no work was begun, for in the heart of the wicked, the race was never run.
You saints as the eagle from the heavens that cry. You mountains of love all glorious and white ascending so high. O beautiful souls, Mosier's hosts, in all creation stand by. Watching over the earth and its hosts, no mind of the living can die.
O beautiful songs from the great throne that be. To the mind of all living—yet heard only by thee. The hosts of the heaven as the winds or the waves of the sea. Giving to every soul who has understanding and a portion of light for me.
Alleuher is not mocked by the race, or the evil within. Not by those who have fallen and rage, you terrors of sin: He keeps his city and its hosts of the earth and the air. The hours of the evil shall approach, but none of them shall come there, to that beautiful Zion, that city so fair.
Alleuher holds the order of life. All things in their hosts and zones. A power is with them, for they are his own. A lion and an eagle and a bull and the image of a man living in his glory, and bearing to and fro his great throne. His spirit descending through the hosts, the souls of all men is known. His salvation for his saints, his glory in order is shown.
Through the gates above Zion the hosts pass by, ascending and descending by the silvering portals. Upon that beautiful road he has built through the sky. All the earth is full of his glory as the wind, his power is nigh. His saints walk in his strength. There is no death, there is none of his hosts that ever die.
A Meditation—The Afterwhile
1. In the twilight I wandered by the old home place, and I saw it lie in wreck; all was vanity and despair. I sought for the things that belonged to my childhood days, but none of them were there.
2. The old apple tree which stood by the gate, had aged and fallen almost away. Its branches were drooped and crisp with time, through which I used to chase in games of play.
3. I looked away to the old house which stood midst the terrace blue. I thought of the days of my childhood ways, but storm and drear had changed things to an age of bronzed hue.
4. My old rose was gone which stood by the doorway, resting its hands against the wall. And seemed to watch me as I would fleet across the terrace, as if to guard against my fall.
5. I went to look through the garden of the days of long ago, and I saw that my brook lay mired and neglected, which so proudly through its vintage once did flow.
6. My old oak, too, had fallen which stood by the garden wall; crowned with azure gray like the light of fall. Casting its shadows across our brook, it was so strong, so mighty, and tall.
7. My cherry trees and the peaches, too, were gone, some hand had cast them aside. And the lilies and the magnolias and all the orchard beauties of my childhood pride.
8. There were only tiny fragments of our ships which in the rustic brook still yet did lie. When since so short a time when our gay sails and flags upon its waters did fly.
9. There had been a great rain out upon the hills, and our brook had become a mighty sea. Then we went with our ships to explore unknown lands, Julie, and Anna, and Me.
10. We set our ships in order and gave up our brave young lives to fate. We proudly manned our sails from the old elm tree down to the lower gate.
11. The tide rose high and turbulent and cast our ships upon a foreign shore. And we took charge of that land in order as by our swords and crowns we swore.
12. A bull screamed in the distance upon the bronzed hills. The cattle were coming home across the fringed rills. As in haste our ships we sought to fill, with trophies of that vintage land for our conquest to tell.
13. When we heard the voice of our Mother calling from over the mighty sea: "Come home, children, come home," she called across the river, "for Julie, and Anna, and Me."
14. I stood in the evening shadows with my head bare and gray. And as I looked through the evening twilight I saw my orchard beauties transplanted upon a hill to the leeward just away.
15. My old Oak was there, and the apple trees, and the peaches and the pretty things that bloom in red and rone. And I thought I heard the voice of our old rose still calling my children, "Come home, come home."
The Victory of Love
Resting while the flowers unfolding to soothe the burning day of strife.
Fleeting hands lingering nearer, pressing down the folds of my shade.
A heart of gold ye diamond light transparent, to my soul such love is made.
Through the fields be swiftly passing, the fleeting hours of noon.
I shall gather while praising on the lyre, a few wreaths are strewn.
That I shall rest through the evening, for the night shall triumph soon.
With hearts like gold ye love transparent, before a great white throne.
There again it shall be morning, for he made that day of rest you see.
Calling those fleeting hands come hither; those that love, are loved by me.
A High Praise—by Thomas Alvin Edison, the Great Apostle
For the soul of man also needs light, wandering through eternity.
He demands in him that we believe serving through our evil days.
With light for the living mind of man from the haze of these cloud-strewn days.
Or be driven from his beautiful light to the dark'ning realms of despair.
Something with which to join the high hosts watching over the earth up there.
Ye minds shall soon depart from the earth, to join the Lord in the air.
All glory to the Lord on high who brought great joy and salvation near.
But in peace with his saints over the beautiful world his spirit is bound.
That the Lord shall banish the tears of grief from the great human sea.
It's not far from there by the saints of the air to all the souls that be.
He will lead his saints through sorrow 'till all their trials are o'er.
A Meditation—The Shadows
Doubt and despair is the fate that we share, all the days of life from the time of one's birth.
In silence they weep all alone, midst the shadows of the dense dark trees.
Their wings all shrouded with that glory which were theirs, above in the light of the clear bright air.
Marching in the path of the soul's refining, pretty things which tarry in passing through the shadowed ways.
From the tall rocks so white and serene, come stealthily down to the river's edge.
Along by the rivers and above the shadows in every life that's made,
From the tiny urchin to the mighty sage.
But others are strewn all along upon the mountain sides of blue.
Down by the rivers or upon the mountain sides in the same state as I or you.
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