图书图片
PDF
ePub
[ocr errors]

January 27.

And there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain; for the former things are passed away. REV. xxi. 4.

THE

'HE divine Being is that to a Christian, which home is to a weary traveller; it is his dwelling-place, the stay, the solace, the centre and rest of his spirit; and hence he is constantly anticipating his arrival at home.

ROBERT Hall.

THERE'S a land where those who loved when here shall meet to love again.

THE HEAVENLY LAND.

THERE is a land where beauty will not fade,

Nor sorrow dim the eye;

Where true hearts will not shrink nor be dismayed,
And love will never die.

Tell me, I fain would go,

[ocr errors]

For I am burdened with a heavy woe;

The beautiful have left me all alone;

The true, the tender from my path are gone;

And I am weak, and fainting with despair;

Where is it? Tell me, where !

Friend, thou must trust in Him who trod before
The desolate paths of life;

Must bear in meekness, as He meekly bore,

Sorrow and toil and strife.

Think how the Son of God

These thorny paths hath trod;

Think how He longed to go,

Yet tarried out for thee th' appointed woe;

Think of His loneliness in places dim,

When no man comforted nor cared for Him;

Think how He prayed, unaided and alone,

In that dread agony, "Thy will be done!"
Friend, do not thou despair,

Christ, in His heaven of heavens, will hear thy prayer.

FROM THE German of UHLAND

January 28.

But God forbid that I should glory, save in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, by whom the world is crucified unto me, and I unto the world. GAL. vi. 14.

[ocr errors]

WHEN the twilight has gone down behind the western

hills, and darkness has begun to flood the streets

[ocr errors]

and to cover the dwellings of men, above, in the clear air, you have seen a gilded cross on which the sunbeams still rested, and, as you gazed on its blazing sign, you all at once became conscious, from the contrast, of the darkness closing around you, and also saw the visible assurance, that, though unseen by you, the sun was still shining with undecaying and undeclining light. So does the cross reared above the earth make us conscious of man's sins, and aware of God's mercy.

THE CROSS.

My wave-worn bark through life's tempestuous sea
Has sped its course, and touched the crowded shore,
Where all must give account the Judge before,
And, as their actions merit, sentenced be.

At length from Fancy's wild enchantments free,
That made me Art, as some strange god, adore,

I deeply feel how vain its richest store,

Now that the one thing needful faileth me.

Vain dreams of Love! once sweet, now yield they aught,

If, earned by them, a twofold death be mine,

This, doomed me here; and that, beyond the grave?
Nor painting's art, nor sculptor's skill e'er brought
Peace to the soul that seeks that Friend Divine
Who on the cross stretched out His arms to save.

MICHAEL ANGELO.

[ocr errors]

January 29.

I am the vine, ye are the branches; he that abideth in me, and I in him, the same bringeth forth much fruit; for without me ye can do nothing. — JOHN XV. 5.

T is a painful thing, this pruning work, this cutting off

the wandering juices into the healthier and more living parts. In religion it is described thus: "Every branch in me that beareth fruit, He purgeth it, that it may bring forth more fruit." The keen edge of God's pruning-knife cuts sheer through. No weak tenderness stops Him whose love seeks goodness, not comfort, for His servants.

F. W. ROBERTSON.

A LIVING BRANCH.

FATHER of heaven! if by Thy mercy's grace
A living branch I am of that true vine

Which spreads o'er all-and would we did resign
Durselves entire by faith to its embrace!

In me much drooping, Lord, Thine eye will trace,
Caused by the shade of these rank leaves of mine,
Unless in season due Thou dost refine

The humor gross, and quicken its dull pace.
So cleanse me, that abiding e'er with Thee,

I feed me hourly with the heavenly dew,

And with my falling tears refresh the root.

Thou said'st, and Thou art truth, Thou 'dst with me be;
Then willing come, that I may bear much fruit,

And worthy of the stock on which it grew.

VITTORIA COLONNA.

January 30.

O send out Thy light and Thy truth; let them lead me. — Ps. xliii. 3.

To follow Christ does not of necessity involve anything

new or unwonted; to be perfect in Him does not always need change. To "abide in the same calling

wherein we are called;" to strive each day to do the wonted service more perfectly; to infuse and maintain in every detail a purer motive; to master each impulse, and bring each thought under a holier discipline; to be blameless in word; to sacrifice self, as an habitual law, in each sudden call to action; to take more and more secretly the lowest place; to move amid constant distractions, and above them undisturbedly; to be content to do nothing that attracts notice, but to do it always for the greater glory of God; to let each day pass seemingly as though it were lost, bearing no manifest fruit, nothing eventful, only the monotony of the "trivial round; to be ever growing in watchfulness and care, faithfully bearing the secret unknown burden of this undistinguished destiny, drawing every impulse and wish more and more into union with the unseen but ever-present God, - such a course of necessity is the general lot, and is the preparation of the greater proportion of the "cloud of witnesses." To seek with a single eye to discern what is God's will for one's self through the outward circumstances that encompass us round about, is to every one the sure hope of final peace.

[ocr errors]
[ocr errors]

THE MASTER.

BLOW, winds of God, awake and blow
The mists of earth away.

Shine out, O Light Divine, and show
How wide and far we stray.

Hush every lip, close every book,
The strife of tongues forbear;
Why forward reach, or backward look,
For love which clasps like air?

We may not climb the heavenly steeps
To bring the Lord Christ down.
In vain we search the lowest deeps
For Him no depth can drown.

In joy of inward peace, or sense
Of sorrow over sin,

He is His own best evidence,
His witness is within.

[blocks in formation]

Through Him the first fond prayers are said

Our lips of childhood frame;

The last low whispers of our dead
Are burdened with His name.

O Lord and Master of us all!
Whate'er our name or sign,
We own Thy sway, we hear Thy call,
We test our lives by Thine.

We faintly hear, we dimly see,
In differing phrase we pray;

But, dim or clear, we own in Thee
The Light, the Truth, the Way.

Apart from Thee all gain is loss,
All labor vainly done;

The solemn shadow of Thy Cross

Is better than the sun.

Our Friend, our Brother, and our Lord,

What may Thy service be?

Nor name, nor form, nor ritual word,

But simply following Thee.

Deep strike Thy roots, O heavenly Vine,

Within our earthly sod;

Most human, and yet most divine,

The flower of man and God.

JOHN G. WHITTIER.

« 上一页继续 »