Part 1

Transcriber's Note.

The compiler of this collection is not identified.

Apparent typographical errors have been corrected. "Zavier" has been replaced by "Xavier". Inconsistencies in the use of hyphens and of accents have been retained.

Italic font is indicated by _underscores_ and transliterated Greek by =equal signs=. Small capitals have been replaced by full capitals, and "oe" ligatures have been removed.

Where individual poems lack titles they are identified, in the Table of Contents, by their first line or an appropriate phrase.

RELIGIOUS POEMS

SELECTED.

PHILADELPHIA: THE RODGERS COMPANY.

CONTENTS.

PAGE

Our King _Frances R. Havergal._ 9 The Sleep _E. B. Browning._ 10 God's Commands _Doddridge._ 13 Be Strong _Adelaide Procter._ 14 The Sleep of the Beloved _Horatius Bonar._ 15 Self-Dependence _Matthew Arnold._ 16 What is Prayer? _James Montgomery._ 18 The Virgin Mary to the Child Jesus _E. B. Browning._ 19 The Voice from Galilee _Horatius Bonar._ 28 Lead, Kindly Light _Cardinal Newman._ 29 Weary of Life _Unidentified._ 30 Come unto Me _Unidentified._ 31 Earth's Beauty _Horatius Bonar._ 33 Servant of God _James Montgomery._ 34 The Angel's Story _Adelaide Procter._ 35 Jesus _Bernard._ 44 Morality _Matthew Arnold._ 45 Morning _John Keble._ 47 Divine Order _Horatius Bonar._ 50 The Issues of Life and Death _James Montgomery._ 51 Gracious Spirit _Stocker._ 52 St. Agnes' Eve _Alfred Tennyson._ 53 Life and Death _Adelaide Procter._ 54 The Angel's Call _Mrs. Hemans._ 56 I would not Live alway _Muhlenberg._ 57 Jerusalem the Golden _Bernard._ 58 When our Heads are Bowed _Heber._ 60 O Soul, Soul _Henry C. Graves._ 61 The Look _E. B. Browning._ 62 The Meaning of the Look _E. B. Browning._ 62 Comfort _E. B. Browning._ 63 Substitution _E. B. Browning._ 64 Tears _E. B. Browning._ 65 Cheerfulness taught by Reason _E. B. Browning._ 65 The Prospect _E. B. Browning._ 66 Consolation _E. B. Browning._ 67 A Thought over a Cradle _N. P. Willis._ 68 Everlasting Blessings _Frances R. Havergal._ 69 The Mother to her Child _N. P. Willis._ 70 Give me thy Heart _Adelaide Procter._ 72 One Sweetly Solemn Thought _Phoebe Carey._ 75 Left Behind _Horatius Bonar._ 76 Lord, what a Change _Richard C. Trench._ 78 Our Father _Frances R. Havergal._ 78 Thou art the Way _Doane._ 85 The Night and the Morning _Horatius Bonar._ 86 In Affliction _James Montgomery._ 87 Give to the Winds _Gerhard._ 87 Where wilt Thou _Mrs. Sigourney._ 88 One there is above _Newton._ 89 God moves in a mysterious way _Cowper._ 90 Onward, Christian _Johnson._ 91 Thankfulness _Adelaide Procter._ 92 Does the Gospel word proclaim _Newton._ 94 My God, my Father _C. Elliott._ 95 The Seen and the Unseen _Horatius Bonar._ 96 I am far frae my Hame _Unidentified._ 101 The Sinner's Friend _Charlotte Elliott._ 103 Evening Prayer at a Girls' School _Mrs. Hemans._ 105 I Worship Thee _F. W. Faber._ 107 The Peace of God _Adelaide Procter._ 110 Listening in Darkness--Speaking in Light _Frances R. Havergal._ 112 The Morning Star _Horatius Bonar._ 113 God of the World _S. S. Cutting._ 114 There is a God _Steele._ 115 Lord, how Mysterious _Steele._ 116 The Shadow of the Rock _F. W. Faber._ 116 Elegy _Henry King._ 120 Rest Yonder _Horatius Bonar._ 122 Soldiers of Christ _C. Wesley._ 123 Thy Will be done _J. Roscoe._ 124 It is not Dying _Malan._ 125 Watchman! tell us of the Night _Bowring._ 126 The Spirit accompanying the Word of God _James Montgomery._ 127 The Cloudless _Horatius Bonar._ 128 Comfort _Adelaide Procter._ 130 "Master, Say On!" _Frances R. Havergal._ 132 The Leper _N. P. Willis._ 134 Things hoped for _Horatius Bonar._ 141 The Sure Refuge _Unidentified._ 144 Unfruitfulness _F. W. Faber._ 145 Murmuring _Richard C. Trench._ 148 If thou couldst Know _Adelaide Procter._ 149 Compensation _Frances R. Havergal._ 150 Valiant for the Truth _James Montgomery._ 156 Advent _Horatius Bonar._ 158 A Bethlehem Hymn _Horatius Bonar._ 160 A Desire _Adelaide Procter._ 161 That Glorious Song of Old _Sears._ 164 Hail to the Lord's _Montgomery._ 165 The Old, Old Story _Jemima Luke._ 167 My Jesus _Unidentified._ 168 How Beauteous were the marks divine _A. C. Coxe._ 169 O Sacred Head _Bernard._ 171 Heart of Stone _C. Wesley._ 172 "By Thy Cross and Passion" _Frances R. Havergal._ 173 Abide in Him _Horatius Bonar._ 175 Rejoice, all ye Believers _Laurenti._ 176 Joined to Christ _Frances R. Havergal._ 177 "Till He Come!" _E. W. Bickersteth._ 178 "Forever with the Lord!" _James Montgomery._ 180 The Meeting-Place _Horatius Bonar._ 181 A Little While _Horatius Bonar._ 183 Ascension Day _John Keble._ 185 The Sacrifice of Abraham _N. P. Willis._ 188 A Solitary Way _Unidentified._ 192 The Child's Welcome into Heaven _Unidentified._ 194 "Now" _Frances R. Havergal._ 196 Ocean Teachings _Horatius Bonar._ 201 Incompleteness _Adelaide Procter._ 203 Nothing to Do _Unidentified._ 205 Death _From "Sintram."_ 206 It is not Death to Die _Bethune._ 207 Rugby Chapel _Matthew Arnold._ 208 The Right must Win _F. W. Faber._ 217 The Substitute _Horatius Bonar._ 221 Jephthah's Daughter _N. P. Willis._ 222 Lord, many Times _Richard C. Trench._ 228 Cleansing Fires _Adelaide Procter._ 228 Gone Before _Horatius Bonar._ 229 The Lent Jewels _Richard C. Trench._ 231 On the Death of a Missionary _N. P. Willis._ 233 Set Apart _Frances R. Havergal._ 236 The Useful Life _Horatius Bonar._ 238 Hymn _Charlotte Elliott._ 240 "Behold, the Bridegroom Cometh!" _Unidentified._ 242 It may be in the Evening _Unidentified._ 246 The Joy of Assurance _Frances R. Havergal._ 251 "How Wonderful!" _Frances R. Havergal._ 252 Thy Way, not Mine _Horatius Bonar._ 253 A Child's First Impression of a Star _N. P. Willis._ 255 "Come unto Me!" _St. Stephen the Sabaite._ 256 "Looking unto Jesus" _From the German._ 257 Evening Hymn _Adelaide Procter._ 259 Are all the Children in? _Unidentified._ 261 He Leads us On _Unidentified._ 263 Nothing but Leaves _Unidentified._ 264 Because He first Loved us _Francis Xavier._ 265 Sonnet _Richard C. Trench._ 266 Rest at Evening _Adelaide Procter._ 267 Now the Day is over _Unidentified._ 268 The Land of Light _Horatius Bonar._ 270 Abide with Me _Lyte._ 271 Farewell of the Soul to the Body _Mrs. Sigourney._ 272

RELIGIOUS POEMS.

OUR KING.

"Worship thou Him." Ps. xlv. 11.

O Saviour, precious Saviour, Whom yet unseen we love, O Name of might and favor, All other names above: We worship Thee, we bless Thee, To Thee alone we sing; We praise Thee, and confess Thee Our holy Lord and King!

O Bringer of salvation, Who wondrously hast wrought, Thyself the revelation Of love beyond our thought: We worship Thee, we bless Thee, To Thee alone we sing; We praise Thee, and confess Thee Our gracious Lord and King!

In Thee all fullness dwelleth, All grace and power divine; The glory that excelleth, O, Son of God, is Thine: We worship Thee, we bless Thee, To Thee alone we sing; We praise Thee, and confess Thee Our glorious Lord and King!

Oh, grant the consummation Of this our song above, In endless adoration, And everlasting love: Then shall we praise and bless Thee, Where perfect praises ring, And evermore confess Thee Our Saviour and our King!

--_Frances Ridley Havergal._

THE SLEEP.

He giveth His beloved sleep. Ps. cxxvii. 2.

Of all the thoughts of God that are Borne inward unto souls afar, Along the Psalmist's music deep, Now tell me if that any is, For gift or grace, surpassing this-- 'He giveth His beloved, sleep?'

What would we give to our beloved? The hero's heart, to be unmoved, The poet's star-tuned harp, to sweep, The patriot's voice, to teach and rouse, The monarch's crown, to light the brows?-- 'He giveth _His_ beloved, sleep.'

What do we give to our beloved? A little faith all undisproved, A little dust to overweep, And bitter memories to make The whole earth blasted for our sake. 'He giveth _His_ beloved, sleep.'

'Sleep soft, beloved!' we sometimes say But have no tune to charm away Sad dreams that through the eyelids creep. But never doleful dream again Shall break the happy slumber when 'He giveth _His_ beloved, sleep.'

O earth, so full of dreary noises! O men, with wailing in your voices! O delvèd gold, the wailers heap! O strife, O curse, that o'er it fall! God strikes a silence through you all, And 'giveth His beloved, sleep.'

His dews drop mutely on the hill, His cloud above it saileth still, Though on its slope men sow and reap, More softly than the dew is shed, Or clouds is floated overhead, 'He giveth His beloved, sleep.'

Aye, men may wonder while they scan A living, thinking, feeling man, Confirmed in such a rest to keep; But angels say, and through the word I think their happy smile is _heard_-- 'He giveth His beloved, sleep!'

For me, my heart that erst did go Most like a tired child at a show, That sees through tears the mummers leap, Would now its wearied vision close, Would child-like on _His_ love repose, Who 'giveth His beloved, sleep!'

And friends, dear friends,--when it shall be That this low breath is gone from me, And round my bier ye come to weep, Let one, most loving of you all, Say, 'Not a tear must o'er her fall-- He giveth His beloved, sleep.'

--_E. B. Browning._

How gentle God's commands! How kind his precepts are! Come, cast your burdens on the Lord, And trust his constant care.

Beneath his watchful eye His saints securely dwell; That hand which bears all nature up Shall guard his children well.

Why should this anxious load Press down your weary mind? Haste to your heavenly Father's throne And sweet refreshment find.

His goodness stands approved, Unchanged from day to day: I'll drop my burden at his feet, And bear a song away.

--_Doddridge._

BE STRONG.

Be strong to _hope_, O Heart! Though day is bright, The stars can only shine In the dark night. Be strong, O Heart of mine, Look towards the light!

Be strong to _bear_, O Heart! Nothing is vain: Strive not, for life is care, And God sends pain; Heaven is above, and there Rest will remain!

Be strong to _love_, O Heart! Love knows not wrong; Didst thou love--creatures even, Life were not long; Didst thou love God in heaven, Thou wouldst be strong!

--_Adelaide Procter._

THE SLEEP OF THE BELOVED.

"So He giveth his beloved sleep." Ps. cxxvii. 2.

Sunlight has vanished, and the weary earth Lies resting from a long day's toil and pain, And, looking for a new dawn's early birth, Seeks strength in slumber for its toil again.

We too would rest; but ere we close the eye Upon the consciousness of waking thought, Would calmly turn it to yon star-bright sky, And lift the soul to Him who slumbers not.

Above us is thy hand with tender care, Distilling over us the dew of sleep: Darkness seems loaded with oblivious air, In deep forgetfulness each sense to steep.

Thou hast provided midnight's hour of peace, Thou stretchest over us the wing of rest; With more than all a parent's tenderness, Foldest us sleeping to thy gentle breast.

Grief flies away; care quits our easy couch, Till wakened by thy hand, when breaks the day-- Like the lone prophet by the angel's touch,-- We rise to tread again our pilgrim-way.

God of our life! God of each day and night, Oh, keep us still till life's short race is run! Until there dawns the long, long day of light. That knows no night, yet needs no star nor sun.

--_Horatius Bonar._

SELF-DEPENDENCE.

Weary of myself, and sick of asking What I am, and what I ought to be, At this vessel's prow I stand, which bears me Forwards, forwards, o'er the starlit sea.

And a look of passionate desire O'er the sea and to the stars I send: "Ye who from my childhood up have calmed me, Calm me, ah, compose me to the end!

"Ah, once more," I cried, "ye stars, ye waters, On my heart your mighty charm renew; Still, still let me, as I gaze upon you, Feel my soul becoming vast like you!"

From the intense, clear, star-sown vault of heaven, Over the lit sea's unquiet way, In the rustling night-air came the answer,-- "Wouldst thou _be_ as these are? _Live_ as they.

"Unaffrighted by the silence round them, Undistracted by the sights they see, These demand not that the things without them Yield them love, amusement, sympathy.

"And with joy the stars perform their shining, And the sea its long moon-silvered roll; For self-poised they live, nor pine with noting All the fever of some differing soul.

"Bounded by themselves, and unregardful In what state God's other works may be, In their own tasks all their powers pouring, These attain the mighty life you see."

O air-born voice! long since severely clear, A cry like thine in mine own heart I hear,-- "Resolve to be thyself; and know, that he Who finds himself loses his misery!"

--_Matthew Arnold._

WHAT IS PRAYER?

Prayer is the soul's sincere desire, Unuttered or expressed; The motion of a hidden fire That trembles in the breast.

Prayer is the burden of a sigh, The falling of a tear, The upward glancing of an eye, When none but God is near.

Prayer is the simplest form of speech That infant lips can try; Prayer the sublimest strains that reach The majesty on high.

Prayer is the contrite sinner's voice, Returning from his ways; While angels in their songs rejoice, And cry--"Behold he prays!"

Prayer is the Christian's vital breath, The Christian's native air: His watchword at the gates of death-- He enters heaven with prayer.

The saints in prayer appear as one In word, and deed, and mind, While with the Father and the Son Sweet fellowship they find.

Nor prayer is made by man alone The Holy Spirit pleads And Jesus, on the eternal throne For sinners intercedes.

O Thou, by whom we come to God-- The Life, the Truth, the Way; The path of prayer Thyself hast trod; Lord! teach us how to pray.

--_James Montgomery._

THE VIRGIN MARY TO THE CHILD JESUS.

But see, the Virgin blest Hath laid her babe to rest. MILTON'S _Hymn on the Nativity_.

Sleep, sleep, mine Holy One! My flesh, my Lord!--what name? I do not know A name that seemeth not too high or low, Too far from me or Heaven. My Jesus, _that_ is best! that word being given By the majestic angel whose command Was softly as a man's beseeching said, When I and all the earth appeared to stand In the great overflow Of light celestial from his wings and head. Sleep, sleep, my saving One!

And art Thou come for saving, baby-browed And speechless Being--art Thou come for saving? The palm that grows beside our door is bowed By treadings of the low wind from the south, A restless shadow through the chamber waving: Upon its bough a bird sings in the sun; But Thou, with that close slumber on Thy mouth, Dost seem of wind and sun already weary. Art come for saving, O my weary One?

Perchance this sleep that shutteth out the dreary Earth-sounds and motions, opens on Thy soul High dreams on fire with God; High songs that make the pathways where they roll More bright than stars do theirs; and visions new Of Thine eternal Nature's old abode. Suffer this mother's kiss, Best thing that earthly is, To guide the music and the glory through, Nor narrow in Thy dream the broad upliftings Of any seraph wing! Thus, noiseless, thus. Sleep, sleep, my dreaming One!

The slumber of His lips meseems to run Through _my_ lips to mine heart; to all its shiftings Of sensual life, bringing contrariousness In a great calm. I feel, I could lie down As Moses did, and die,[1]--and then live most. I am 'ware of you, heavenly Presences, That stand with your peculiar light unlost, Each forehead with a high thought for a crown, Unsunned i' the sunshine! I am 'ware. Yet throw No shade against the wall! How motionless Ye round me with your living statuary, While through your whiteness, in and outwardly, Continual thoughts of God appear to go, Like light's soul in itself! I bear, I bear, To look upon the dropped lids of your eyes, Though their external shining testifies To that beatitude within, which were Enough to blast an eagle at his sun. I fall not on my sad clay face before ye; I look on His. I know My spirit which dilateth with the woe Of His mortality, May well contain your glory. Yea, drop your lids more low. Ye are but fellow-worshipers with me! Sleep, sleep, my worshiped One!

We sat among the stalls at Bethlehem, The dumb kine from their fodder turning them, Softened their horned faces To almost human gazes Towards the newly Born. The simple shepherds from the star-lit brooks Brought visionary looks, As yet in their astonished hearing rung The strange, sweet angel-tongue. The magi of the East, in sandals worn, Knelt reverent, sweeping round, With long pale beards their gifts upon the ground, The incense, myrrh and gold, These baby hands were impotent to hold. So, let all earthlies and celestials wait Upon thy royal state! Sleep, sleep, my kingly One!

I am not proud--meek angels, ye invest New meeknesses to hear such utterance rest On mortal lips,--'I am not proud'--_not proud_! Albeit in my flesh God sent His Son, Albeit over Him my head is bowed As others bow before Him, still mine heart Bows lower than their knees. O centuries That roll, in vision, your futurities My future grave athwart,-- Whose murmurs seem to reach me while I keep Watch o'er this sleep,-- Say of me as the Heavenly said,--'Thou art The blessedest of women!'--blessedest, Not holiest, not noblest--no high name, Whose height misplaced may pierce me like a shame, When I sit meek in heaven!