Part 2

Prepare for us a home beyond the wave, Where we in honest toil our days may spend, Till gently sinking to a peaceful grave; And be Thou with us always—to the end!

Oh! bless the dear ones whom we leave behind! Though severed now from parent—brother—friend— In Thee the parted yet may union find, With them and us be always—to the end!

Nor time nor space can from Thy love divide; For ever near to bless and to defend, Our lives—our all—we to Thy care confide, Be with us always—even to the end!

XIX. FISHERMEN’S HYMN.

There were fishermen once by the blue Galilee, Whose lives were as toilsome and hard as our own, They launched in the morning their boats in the sea, Their nets in the soft heaving waters were thrown.

A plentiful blessing rewarded their toil, Though all the night long they had laboured in vain, Their vessels were filled with the glittering spoil, And slowly, deep-laden, they moved o’er the main.

’Twas the presence of Christ that a miracle wrought, The richly filled net was cast forth at His word, And the draught far surpassing their hopes or their thought, Was the least of the blessings bestowed by the Lord.

Be with us, O Lord! when we launch forth alone, Be with us when toiling our bread to obtain, Though Thy presence no more be by miracles known, Who labour in faith, will not labour in vain.

But we ask Thee for blessings more precious by far Than the depths of the earth or the ocean can yield, Make us feel, like Thy Peter, what sinners we are, Make us know that, though sinners, our pardon is sealed.

Make us willing to quit all that keep us from Thee, Like the chosen disciples in ages long past, Like them, throughout life, Thy true followers be, And anchor in Heaven’s safe haven at last!

XX. TEACHER’S HYMN.

“Feed thou My lambs,” the Saviour said To one whose spirit burned to prove By toils endured, or life-blood shed, The strength of his devoted love.

“Feed thou My lambs;” oh! sacred trust E’en for a great apostle meet, To raise the feeble from the dust, And guide them to the Saviour’s feet.

“Feed thou My lambs.” And ever thus His flock the heavenly Shepherd tends; His mild command He breathes to us, And to our care His sheep commends.

“Feed thou My lambs;” despised on earth The friendless little one may be, But who can tell the priceless worth Of one soul, Lord, redeemed by Thee!

May we pursue the blest employ Endowed with wisdom from above, And count it privilege and joy To feed the lambs whom Thou dost love!

XXI. WORKMAN’S HYMN.

Before the morning’s toil begin, We thank Thee, Giver of all good, For needful health and strength to win, By daily labour, daily food.

The seeing eye, the skilful hand, The powerful arm, are gifts from Thee; Thou for our comfort all hast planned, Used to Thy glory all should be.

When Thou didst come to visit man, A lowly lot, O Lord, was Thine; In poverty Thy life began, Shall we at poverty repine?

Thou who dost all our trials know, Thou who didst all our sorrows share, The comforts of Thy grace bestow, And make us rich in faith and prayer.

Soon will the hours of toil be past, And calm repose at night be given; So life’s short day is closing fast, And sweet will be the rest of Heaven!

XXII. SEMPSTRESS’S HYMN.

Day after day my weary task I ply, And half the night to ceaseless toil is given; When weary is my heart and dim mine eye, I seem to hear the Saviour’s voice from Heaven: “Come unto Me, all ye by toil opprest, Come unto Me, and I will give you rest.”

When all my labour scarce can bread procure, And weak with want my feeble fingers move; When dear ones round me hunger’s pangs endure, My drooping spirit hears that voice of love: “Come unto Me, all ye by grief opprest, Come unto Me, and I will give you rest.”

O Lord, how shall I come? my sinful heart Is prone to murmur, and Thy truth forget; Dare I approach Thee, holy as Thou art? Methinks I hear that gentle whisper yet: “Come unto Me, all ye by sin opprest, Come unto Me, and I will give you rest.”

Oh, let me patiently await the day When Christ my Lord in glory shall appear, When tears shall be for ever wiped away, And those who trust Him now His voice shall hear: “Come, faithful servants, of My Father blessed, And I will give you everlasting rest.”

XXIII. RAGGED BOY’S HYMN.

I would not take what is not mine, for hoards of wealth untold,— Far better grasp the red-hot steel, than touch another’s gold; The love of money, God hath said, of evil is the root, And if dishonesty thence spring, destruction is the fruit.

I would not take what is not mine, though none were near to see, Conscience would my accuser stand, and God my judge would be; The covetous desire, the wicked thought I would control,— What shall it profit man to gain the world, and lose his soul?

I would not take another’s goods,—the loser might repine, His loss might heavy seem to him, but small compared to _mine_; For oh! more precious far than all the wealth to nobles given, An honest name, a quiet conscience, and the hope of Heaven!

I would not take what is not mine, but treasure seek above, Gained without money, without price, from our Redeemer’s love; Time cannot change it, moth corrupt, nor thieves break through and steal, And all eternity will but its boundless worth reveal!

XXIV. RAGGED GIRL’S HYMN.

The Sabbath sun has risen high, And sweetly sounds the Sabbath bell, My basket now untouched must lie, This day I neither buy nor sell. The Sabbath rest I will not break, But God’s commands my study make, And trust the word Of my dear Lord, “I will not leave thee, nor forsake.”

But I am poor, with none to aid, And Satan sore is tempting me, “If thou give up the Sabbath trade, The Sabbath meal is not for thee.” My God, oh, let me never break The least command that Thou didst make, But trust the word Of my dear Lord, “I will not leave thee, nor forsake.”

When Christ was faint with hunger’s pain, The Tempter urged God’s blessed Son In way unmeet relief to gain; But steadfast stood the Holy One, His perfect faith no doubt could shake, The least command He would not break, He knew the love Of God above, Would never leave Him, nor forsake.

Now, high in heaven, He hears and grants The prayers of those in faith who pray; My earthly cares, my earthly wants, O Saviour, at Thy feet I lay: Supply Thy servant’s need, and make Her soul of heavenly food partake, For still, O Lord, I trust Thy word, “I’ll never leave thee, nor forsake.”

XXV. POLICEMAN’S HYMN.

In the silence of night when the stars glimmer o’er me, The sound of my tread breaks the stillness alone, I think of the far-distant mansions of glory, Where angels keep watch round the Holy One’s throne.

Then, when clock after clock tells the hours that are fleeting, I think how each brings the day near and more near, When around the dread judgment-seat multitudes meeting, The last solemn verdict of justice shall hear.

On the right hand will stand Christ’s redeemed ones, possessing Robes washed in His blood, with His righteousness crowned; On the left the lost souls that rejected the blessing; O God, in which number shall _I_ then be found?

Am I resting my hopes on His infinite merit, Who suffered our pardon and peace to procure; Am I seeking the aid of His life-giving Spirit To make my heart penitent, humble, and pure?

Oh! for those who believe there is “no condemnation,” The Judge shall Himself be their Saviour and Friend, His voice shall award them eternal salvation, And bliss, in His presence, which never shall end.

XXVI. PAUPER’S HYMN.

Far from the friends to me most dear, Within the crowded ward I lie, Destined, perhaps, mid strangers here To suffer and to die. Time may all other joys remove Yet leaves he still Faith, Hope, and Love.

_Faith_ to the cross my spirit leads, And tells of One now glorified, Who at the Father’s right hand pleads For those for whom He died. What trials can too bitter prove While yet there rest Faith, Hope, and Love?

_Hope_ whispers of that happy place Where I my Saviour shall behold, And sing the wonders of His grace To harp of shining gold. What sorrows can our patience move While still remain Faith, Hope, and Love?

_Love_ draws my heart towards my kind, Makes me in each a brother (or sister) see, To cheer the sad, to help the blind, Are joys still left to me. Bless my companions, heavenly Dove, Fill them with Faith, and Hope, and Love.

There is no pain or sorrow here, For those who will God’s lesson learn, But _Faith_ may brighten, _Hope_ may cheer, And _Love_ to blessing turn; Then Peace descending from above Unites with Faith, and Hope, and Love.

XXVII. POSTMAN’S HYMN.

In daily rounds my constant course I keep, Expected oft, but never asked to stay, Nor know I who may laugh, or who may weep When gazing at the tidings I convey. So is there one who comes to rich and poor, Expected long, unwelcome though he be; When death’s loud knock is sounding at my door, What are the tidings he will bring to me?

The haughty man to great possessions heir, The selfish man, whose treasure is below, The selfish man all full of worldly care— To them his message is of fear and woe. Bold Sabbath-breakers, scoffers at God’s word, Who rush on paths which conscience must condemn, When death’s loud knock is at their dwellings heard, Oh! fearful tidings must he bring to them.

The contrite, mourning o’er repented sin, The meek in heart, whose treasure is above, The faithful, who a heavenly crown would win— To such his message is of peace and love. He comes to tell them that their griefs are o’er, That Christ from sin and sorrow sets them free; Oh! when death’s knock is sounding at my door, Such blessed tidings may he bring to me!

XXVIII. SERVANT’S HYMN.

To whom do I obedience owe, Who should my willing service claim? One master dwelling here below, And One above the starry frame. Oh! may the thought of Him above, Each Christian servant’s zeal awake, To serve with faithfulness and love— For Christ, our heavenly Master’s sake.

The earnest follower of the Lord, Must by the badge of truth be known, Integrity that shrinks from fraud, And needs no eye—save God’s alone The cheerful heart, the ready mind That can in labour pleasure take, To every kindly act inclined, For Christ, our heavenly Master’s sake.

Though our best service is, we own, To God “unprofitable” still, The Lord, to whom the heart is known, Rewards the attempt to do His will. Oh! through His mercy may we rise, When the last trump our sleep shall break, And find a welcome in the skies, For Christ, our heavenly Master’s sake!

XXIX. MINER’S HYMN.

When verdant fields are seen no more, Where Heaven’s beams can never shine, Earth’s hidden treasures to explore We labour in the gloomy mine. But bright the torches’ yellow rays That light us on our darksome way, And sweet the voice of Hope that says, “We soon shall see the light of day.”

And thus awhile must all mankind Toil on and labour here below, Poor sinful mortals, weak and blind, And subject all to pain and woe. But brightly shines God’s holy Word Which lights us on our darksome way, And sweet the hope its leaves afford, “We soon shall see a heavenly day.”

The Lord of Angels deigned to come To bear our punishment and pain, He made our dark abode His home, That we might rise, that we might reign. And those who in His Word delight, Who trust His love, His will obey, Shall shine in robes of spotless white In Heaven’s everlasting day!

XXX. GARDENER’S HYMN.

Ere our first parents fell, the ground All beauty and abundance crowned; But now the soil our labour needs,— The _earth_ produces thorns and weeds.

And trials on our pathway grow, The prickly care, the stinging woe, How oft the wounded spirit bleeds,— Our _life_ produces thorns and weeds.

But—worse than all—we find within, The poisoned roots of pride and sin, From them our misery proceeds,— The _heart_ produces thorns and weeds.

But, Lord, Thou bidst Thy sunbeams glow, Thy gentle raindrops fall below; When industry has dressed the bowers, The _earth_ produces fruits and flowers.

So when Thy love its radiance lends, Thy Spirit like the dew descends, When Faith, and Hope, and Peace are ours, Our _life_ produces fruits and flowers.

Oh! lead us to that blissful shore, Where thorns and weeds are known no more, Where Death can never reach the bowers, To blast the fruit or blight the flowers!

XXXI. LABOURER’S HYMN.

I bless Thee, Lord, in early spring, When first the daisy decks the mead, And in the furrowed ground we fling, With hope and prayer, the golden seed. Let children in life’s spring-time days Lift up their hearts in prayer and praise!

I bless Thee in the summer heat, When cattle seek the cooling streams, And o’er green fields of waving wheat The sun pours down his ripening beams. Let man in life’s bright summer days Lift up his heart in prayer and praise!

I bless Thee in the autumn morn, When varied tints are on the leaves, When gaily sounds the hunter’s horn, Where reapers bind the golden sheaves. Let man in life’s declining days Lift up his heart in prayer and praise!

I’ll bless my God in winter’s gloom, When Nature sleeps beneath the snow; Oh! grant that when, beneath the tomb, My body lies in slumber low, Thou wilt my soul to Heaven raise, Where all is joy and all is praise!

XXXII. WIFE’S HYMN.

Help me, Lord Jesus, to fulfil The duties of a wedded wife, Obedient to my husband’s will, The joy and sunshine of his life.

Upon my brow no angry cloud, Upon my lips no hasty word, Not one rebellious thought allowed, His wishes to my own preferred.

Help me to make my husband’s home The calm abode of peace and love, Where strife and discord ne’er may come, A type of that we seek above.

To walk together in Thy sight, To share each other’s joys and woes, Together pray at dawn of light, Together praise at evening’s close;

Each ready, when temptation lowers, With gentle counsel, kindly aid; Lord Jesus! let such lot be ours, Oh, bless the tie which Thou hast made!

United “until death us part,” Not death the Christian bond can sever; Who love Thee here with faithful heart, With Thee shall live, and love for ever!

XXXIII. HYMN OF INDUSTRY.

Not alone in God’s house, or in seasons of prayer, Must the power of a Christian’s religion be shown, At his home, at his counter, and everywhere Must the strength of his faith by his actions be known; For the clear path of duty is marked in God’s Word, “Be not slothful in business, but serving the Lord.”

Not slothful in business! God wills that we toil, From the claims of our calling permits no retreat, Though indolence may from the sentence recoil, “If the hand will not labour, the mouth should not eat;” Faith to industry must but new motive afford, “Be not slothful in business, but serving the Lord.”

Yes, _serving the Lord_; ’mid our toils and our cares May we never forget the great Master we serve, Who the mansions of light for His people prepares; For though man from his Maker can nothing _deserve_, God hath graciously promised Himself to reward Their labours of love who are “serving the Lord.”

To the hand ever prompt in the business of life, But which never would close over fraudulent gain, To the heart firm and strong in the world’s busy strife, Which can holy, and humble, and faithful remain, God in life and in death will His blessing accord, “Be not slothful in business, but serving the Lord.”

XXXIV. SOCIAL HYMN.

How beautiful is Nature’s face! God made all things so fair, Each keeps its own allotted place, Nor hate, nor strife are there. The hill and the plain, The grass and forest tree, The mighty waters of the main, The lily on the lea,— The sunny sky is over all, And all is harmony.

So in the social world we stand In God’s appointed way, And some He destines to command, And others to obey. The rich and the poor, The lowly and the great, The peasant at his cottage door, The Sovereign in her state,— One holy tie uniteth all Who on one Master wait.

How glorious is the mountain height, Whence kindly streamlets flow To bless the peaceful valleys, bright With bending corn below! The fair mountain-crown Shall envy assail, Or pride trample down The harvest of the vale?— The unity in Nature’s world In Man’s world should prevail.

Oh! let not Satan overthrow The order God designed; The seeds of bitter envy sow, And pride, among mankind. Let rich love the poor, The humble bless the great, The servant guard the master’s store, The monarch serve the state,— Each—in his separate sphere—to God His talents consecrate.

XXXV. NATIONAL HYMN.

O God of Hosts, our fathers’ God, Thy blessing on our country shed, Watch o’er the land our sires have trod, Watch o’er the land our sons will tread.

We pray for our Jerusalem, Keep discord from her homes afar, Let thy strong arm deliver them From famine, pestilence, and war.

Though Britain spurns th’ invader’s sword As her white cliffs repulse the tide, We would our grateful hearts, O Lord! Lift up in praise, and not in pride.

The race is not unto the swift, Nor is the battle to the strong; Success and safety are Thy gift, The glory must to Thee belong.

Let our dear land in safety rest, Her people happy, loyal, free, Blest amongst nations—still most blest In that pure faith which leads to Thee!

XXXVI. SOLDIER’S HYMN.

Holy warfare, Lord, is mine Against a foe I cannot see,— Oh! aid me with Thy grace divine, Thy faithful soldier let me be.

Thy armour—faith and righteousness, Thy holy Word within my hand, When fierce temptations round me press Let me thy faithful soldier stand.

Should false shame lure me to deny The truth, or waver in the right, Let me the insidious foe defy, And as Thy faithful soldier fight.

And oh! when death’s keen shafts descend, And failing pulse, and glazing eye, Warn that the conflict soon must end, Thy faithful soldier let me die!

Washed in Thy blood, let me appear Where crowns are to the conquerors given,— Through Christ alone we triumph here, Or wear the victor’s wreath in Heaven!

XXXVII. THE WISE MEN FROM THE EAST.

“Where is thy new-born Lord, O Judah? Zion—where thy King? The treasures of our distant land to Him we tribute bring; Lo! in the East we saw His star, the day-spring from on high, And we have come to worship Him enthroned in majesty!”

Thus spake the Eastern sages, thus the pious Gentiles spake, But Judah would not know her Lord, His people would not wake; The earth’s Creator was on earth, unnoticed or forgot, The Saviour came unto His own, His own received Him not.

The Gentile world that lay in darkness, they have seen the light, Wherefore doth Zion turn away on whom it rose so bright! Oh! thou that bearest joyful tidings, why so mute art thou? Lift up thy voice, Jerusalem, behold thy Saviour now!

Oh! joy to those who seek Messiah while He may be found; Again the heavenly harbinger sheds its soft lustre round, Not on proud tower or stately palace streams the radiance mild, But where the carpenter’s meek wife bends o’er her blessed Child.

Hail, Mary, highly-favoured, hail! God’s power o’ershadoweth thee, Blessed amongst all women thou in thy humility! Yea, rather blessed they who seek Christ’s precepts to fulfil,— His mother, brethren, sisters, they who know and do His will.

The sages to the infant Saviour bring their offerings meet, Rich odours fill the perfumed air, gold glitters at His feet; Oh! happy thus His poverty’s sharp trial to defer, To minister to Him who came to all to minister!

May we not deem when He in glory comes, th’ eternal Lord Will all those offerings of faith remember and reward,— That richer than the wealth of worlds that hallowed gold will be, Those sacred odours fragrance breathe through all eternity?

But now the Saviour sits enthroned above the Seraphim; When all creation owns his sway, and angels worship Him, Can _our_ poor gifts acceptance find before His glorious throne? The earth is His and all therein, not e’en our lives our own.

Lo! here the “Man of sorrows” representatives hath left, The sick, the prisoners, the poor, of all but hope bereft; Aid to “the least of these His brethren” to the Lord is given, Off’rings of love to those He loves, He will accept in Heaven.

But still the noblest gift that man can lay before God’s throne Is the rich tribute of a heart that trusts in Him alone; The poorest—least—this gift may bring, but oh! it will outweigh The treasures of the universe upon the judgment-day!

XXXVIII. SONG OF HOPE.

How highly blest were those who saw On earth their gracious Lord, Who dared approach His sacred form, Who listened to His word, Whose faith the Son of God approved,— Whom the Redeemer saw, and loved!

Disciples hearkening to the voice Which reached the inmost soul, That voice which could awake the dead, The winds and waves control; Who heard—oh! more than happiness— Those accents pardon, praise, or bless!

Who gazed on that soul-searching eye, Which every thought foresaw, From whose calm power the hypocrite Shrank with instinctive awe,— Yet saw on _them_ its glances fixed With tender mercy—love unmixed!

And may not such ecstatic bliss Be granted e’en to me? Though death destroy this mortal flesh, These eyes my God shall see, When coming in the clouds of light His glory bursts upon my sight!

To hear the Saviour’s voice of love Pronounce the gracious word, “Come, blessed of My Father, come, Enter the kingdom of your Lord;” To meet the smile in eyes divine— Oh! can such rapture e’er be mine!

It may, it may, it is prepared For all who love Him here, Who humbly search His written word, And serve with faith and fear; They all shall see Messiah’s face Radiant with glory, love, and grace!

The hand that guides their course on earth Shall wipe all tears away, The light which cheers their thorny path Shall flash to perfect day; Where Jesus reigns His saints shall be, With Him through all eternity!

XXXIX. THE FEARFUL HEART.

“Lord, carest Thou not that we perish!” Cried his followers in agonized fear, When the black stormy sky, And the waves dashing high, Made death with its terrors seem near.