Was echoed from the stream,
Like me your days will swiftly glide,
Or like a fleeting dream.
"We're trav'ling to eternity,"
The Holy Spirit said,—
And sweetly whispered to the soul,
"I'll be thy heavenly guide."
"We're trav'ling to eternity,"
That sentence reached my heart,
I trembled lest I there should hear
That awful word, "depart."
Yes, trav'ling to eternity,
While overwhelmed with guilt,—
Afraid that Jesus' pard'ning love,
By me would ne'er be felt.
"We're trav'ling to eternity,"—
It rings upon my ear;
The hills which echoed back that sound,
Still to my heart are dear.
"We're traveling to eternity,"
Said that dear faithful friend,
Whose image in my mem'ry lives,
And will, till life shall end.
"We're traveling to eternity,"
Soon, soon we there shall meet,
And is my deathless soul prepared,
That friend in heaven to greet?
THE INQUIRY.
Am I a Christian far astray,
And slumb'ring on enchanted ground;
Or did my feet ne'er find the way,
Which Bunyan's humble pilgrim found?
Whence was that strange delight I felt?
Why did the gospel charm my ear?
What caused this stubborn heart to melt?
Why was the Savior's name so dear?
Why was the fountain of his blood,
So precious in my mental eye?
Why did such deep sensations crowd
Around the scene on Calvary?
Why did the Godhead shine so bright?
Why did I love the garb he wore,
Alike, when justice claimed his right,
And when sweet mercy's name he bore?
Did airy phantoms fill my brain?—
Did vain delusions cheat my soul?—
Must those bright hopes prove false and vain?
And must I miss the heavenly goal?
"There is joy in Heaven, in the presence of the angels, over one sinner that repenteth."—Scripture.
What's this that breaks upon my ear?
Music sweet;
From golden harps, methinks I hear
Glorious strains!
"There's joy in Heaven," the angels sing,
"A soul repents and owns our King;"
From Heaven to earth the echoes ring,
Pard'ning love!
JEPHTHAH'S VOW.
The warrior left the battle field,—
Jehovah there had been his shield,—
He heard his solemn vow.
The foe had in confusion fled,
While thousands on the field lay dead,
All, all were vanquish'd now.
Though that brave heart was cased in steel.
Which flashed forth wrath that all might feel,
Who Israel's right oppressed;
Yet, in its sacred chambers rose
As pure a flame as ever glows
Within a parent's breast.
He turned him to that sacred spot,
Where one loved being shared his lot,—
(It was an only child;)
Though long she'd wept and quaked with fear,
When "victory," fell upon her ear,
She wiped her eyes and smiled.
Like as the lark outspreads her wings,
And, while she's soaring, sweetly sings
To charm the listener's ears,
The maiden, springing from her seat,
Flew forth, her coming friend to greet.
Her father now appears.
As her light footsteps pressed the ground,
Melodious music floated round,
Forth gushing from her heart.
"Alas! my child," the father sighed,
"What sent thee here, my love?" he cried,
"To tell that we must part?"
"Thy father made a solemn vow,—
He sees, he feels his error now,
Yes, made a vow to God;
And he will claim my darling now,
He bids me pay that awful vow,
And pay it with thy blood."
"But how can I thy life destroy?
Thou art my solace, hope, and joy,
My cherished only child."
The lustre beaming from her eye,
Seemed caught from radiant orbs on high,
So brilliant, yet so mild.
"Pay to the Lord thy vow," she said,
"God's altar is a pleasant bed,
From thence to heaven I'll rise.
The Lord has answered thy request,
Israel is free, our land at rest,
I'll be thy sacrifice."
"Like a lost sheep I have gone astray."—Psalms.
Like sheep that wander far astray,
Nor ask the shepherd's care,
Did I forsake the narrow way,
Nor seek my God in prayer.
I wandered in a desert wild.
Where snares beset me 'round;
Trifles and toys my feet beguiled,
And all my senses drowned.
Though clouds encompassed me around,
In darkness on I sped,
Still wand'ring on enchanted ground,
Till hope seemed almost fled.
I murmured, at the righteous hand
That held the chast'ning rod,
Like one that could not understand
The precepts of his God.
Well might the Father's smile depart,
The Savior hide his face,
And God, the spirit, shun my heart,
That foul polluted place.
We never find the heavenly dove
Perched on an idol throne;
Those, who would share Jehovah's love,
Must worship him alone.
"And the vail of the temple was rent in twain."—Scripture.
Come, with your guilt and sin oppressed,
In Christ there's pardon, peace and rest;
Come, humbly bow before his feet,
No vail conceals the mercy seat.
Come, boldly to a throne of grace,
The vilest here may find a place,—
For that dark vail was rent in twain,
When Christ, the heavenly lamb, was slain.
Come, rear no altar, slay no beast,
Our Savior now is great high priest,
He rent the vail, to make it plain,
That free access should hence remain.
LINES
TO A LONG ABSENT RELATIVE.
Is Thy native land forgotten?
Wilt thou still a wand'rer be?
Have New England's hills and valleys
Lost their every charm for thee?
Is thy native land forgotten?
Tell me, dost thou feel content,
Far from that loved rural dwelling
Where thine infant days were spent?
Is thy native land forgotten,
Where glad parents, filled with joy,
Prayed for heaven's richest blessings
To attend their infant boy?
Is thy native land forgotten,
Laud where thou first drew thy breath,
Where those sainted parents watched thee,
Where they closed their eyes in death?
Is thy native land forgotten?
Or dost thou revere the sod
Where thy heart for sin was broken,
Where thy soul found peace with God?
Is that sacred stream forgotten,
Where, immersed beneath the flood,
Saying, "I with Christ am buried,
And henceforth will live to God?"
Is that hallowed spot forgotten?
Or does fancy paint it now,
With bright angels hov'ring o'er it
Waiting to record that vow?
Are thy brothers all forgotten,
Playmates 'neath New England's skies?
When thy sisters' names are mentioned,
Do no warm emotions rise?
Is that wasted form forgotten,
Ling'ring 'round cold Jordan's shore,
Praying death to stay his arrow
Till she hears thy voice once more?
Can that sister be forgotten?
Thou art twining 'round her heart:
Come, and let her eyes behold thee,
Let her soul in peace depart.
Is that river's shore forgotten,
Where in childhood, oft we strayed;
Where the grape in purple clusters,
Ripen'd 'neath the elm tree's shade?
Tell, dear friend, hast thou forgotten,
When beneath the apple tree,
That fair group of young companions,
Joined in merry sport with thee?
That old apple tree has withered,
And has vanished from the plain;
But that group are all still living,—
Come, and meet with us again.
LINES
TO THE WIFE OF THE ABOVE.
Fair daughter of a sunny clime,[4]
And bride of him we love,
The grief of those who mourn his loss,
Hath power thy heart to move.
E'en now we love thee for his sake,
But not for his alone,
For in thy heart, a chord we find,
That vibrates with our own.
We love thee, while thy feet still roam
Far on a southern shore;
But lead that wand'ring brother home,
And we will love thee more.
Come, range New England's verdant hills,
And breathe our healthful air,
'Twill tinge thy cheeks with brighter bloom,
And make thee still more fair.