Chapter 143
Abide with us, O wondrous guest!
A stranger still, though long possessed; Our hearts thy love unknown desire, And marvel how the sacred fire Should burn within us while we stray From that sad spot where Jesus lay.
So when our youth, through bitter loss Or hopes deferred, draws near the cross, We lose the Lord our childhood knew And G.o.d's own word may seem untrue; Yet Christ himself shall soothe the way Towards the evening of our day.
And though we travel towards the west 'Tis still for toil, and not for rest; No fate except that life is done; At Emmaus is our work begun; Then let us watch lest tears should hide The Lord who journeys by our side.
NOT NOW BUT THEN
Take the joys and bear the sorrows--neither with extreme concern!
Living here means nescience simply; 'tis next life that helps to learn.
Shut those eyes next life will open--stop those ears next life will teach Hearing's office; close those lips next life will give the power of speech!
Or, if action more amuse thee than the pa.s.sive att.i.tude, Bravely bustle through thy being, busy thee for ill or good, Reap this life's success or failure! Soon shall things be unperplexed, And the right or wrong, now tangled, lie unraveled in the next.
--Robert Browning.
CHEERFUL OLD AGE
Ah! don't be sorrowful, darling, And don't be sorrowful, pray; For taking the year together, my dear, There isn't more night than day.
'Tis rainy weather, my darling; Time's waves they heavily run; But taking the year together, my dear, There isn't more cloud than sun.
We are old folks now, my darling, Our heads are growing gray; And taking the year together, my dear, You will always find the May.
We have had our May, my darling, And our roses long ago; And the time of year is coming, my dear, For the silent night and snow.
And G.o.d is G.o.d, my darling, Of night as well as day, And we feel and know that we can go Wherever he leads the way.
Ay, G.o.d
For age is opportunity no less Than youth itself, though in another dress, And as the evening twilight fades away The sky is filled with stars invisible by day.
At sixty-two life has begun; At seventy-three begin once more; Fly swifter as thou near'st the sun, And brighter s.h.i.+ne at eighty-four.
At ninety-five Shouldst thou arrive, Still wait on G.o.d, and work and thrive.
--Oliver Wendell Holmes.
For what is age but youth's full bloom, A riper, more transcendent youth?
A weight of gold is never old.
Thy thoughts and feelings shall not die, Nor leave thee, when gray hairs are nigh, A melancholy slave; But an old age serene and bright, And lovely as a Lapland night, Shall lead thee to thy grave.
--William Wordsworth.
Fill, brief or long, my granted years Of life with love to thee and man; Strike when thou wilt, the hour of rest, But let my last days be my best.
--John Greenleaf Whittier.
An age so blest that, by its side, Youth seems the waste instead.
--Robert Browning.
ON THE EVE OF DEPARTURE
At the midnight, in the silence of the sleep-time, When you set your fancies free, Will they pa.s.s to where--by death, fools think, imprisoned-- Low he lies who once so loved you, whom you love so, --Pity me?
O to love so, be so loved, yet so mistaken!
What had I on earth to do With the slothful, with the mawkish, the unmanly?
Like the aimless, helpless, hopeless, did I drivel --Being--who?
One who never turned his back, but marched breast forward, Never doubted clouds would break, Never dreamed, though right were worsted, wrong would triumph, Held we fall to rise, are baffled to fight better, Sleep to wake.
No, at noonday, in the bustle of man's work-time, Greet the unseen with a cheer!
Bid him forward, breast and back as either should be, "Strive and thrive!" cry, "Speed,--fight on, fare ever There as here!"
--Robert Browning.
Let no one till his death Be called unhappy. Measure not the work Until the day's out and the labor done; Then bring your gauges.
--Elizabeth Barrett Browning.
I WOULD LIVE LONGER
Phil. i. 23.
O I would live longer, I gladly would stay, Though "storm after storm rises dark o'er the way"; Temptations and trials beset me, 'tis true, Yet gladly I'd stay where there's so much to do.
O I would live longer--not "away from my Lord"-- For ever he's with me, fulfilling his word; In sorrow I lean on his arm, for he's near, In darkness he speaks, and my spirit doth cheer.
Yes, I would live longer some trophy to win, Some soul to lead back from the dark paths of sin; Some weak one to strengthen, some faint one to cheer, And heaven will be sweeter for laboring here.
But--would I live longer? How can I decide, With Jesus in glory, still here to abide?
O Lord, leave not the decision to me, Where best I can serve thee, Lord, there let me be.
--L. Kinney.
THERE IS NO DEATH