图书图片
PDF
ePub

blood money, remember-" and their gold shall be re moved. Their silver and their gold shall not be able to deliver them in the day of the wrath of the Lord!"

“Make a chain, for the land is full of bloody crimes, and the city is full of violence."

“Make a chain, for the city is full of violence!" Make a chain to hold down fast and tight that which is destructive and deadly to civilization! Every man to-day is making a chain; and I tell you that the chain you are forging is not any stronger than its weakest link! It makes no difference how perfect you may be in this or that thing you may belong to a Church, and you may pray one way, but when you come to vote on this measure that looks to the overthrow of the nation's greatest evil, the strength of your chain will be measured by the character of your ballot.

Has

Men of America, I ask you," Is God dead?" "Is manhood left the nation forever? Are we an army of cowards? Or will we say, from this hour, God helping us, we will buckle on the whole armor of Almighty God, and in His name and with His power we will take a stand alongside of the mothers and the children of our land. and with our ballots, which execute the will of the people, we will bury this home and soul-destroying business beyond the hope of a resurrection?

When we have done that, we shall have done our duty, and God will take care of the rest.

JOHN P. ST. JOHN.

THE BORDER LAND.

These lines were sent by a lady to a friend who asked to know where she had been for several months, that she had not written to her? In the interval her friend had been brought to the gates of the grave by a Long and severe illness.

I

HAVE been to a land, a Border Land,

Where there was but a strange dim light,
Where dreams and shadows, a spectral band,
Seemed real to the aching sight.

I scarce bethought me how there I came,
Or if thence I should pass again,

Its morn and night were marked by its flight,
Or coming of woe and pain.

But I saw from this land, this Border Land,
With its mountain ridges hoar,

That they looked across to a wondrous strand,
A bright and unearthly shore.

Then I turned me to Him, the Crucified
In patience, faith, and prayer,

Who had ransomed with blood my sinful soul
For I thought He would call me there.

Yet nay; for awhile in that Border Land,
He bade me in patience stay,

And gather rich fruits with a trembling hand
While He chased its gloom away.

He has led me amid those shadows dim,

And shown that bright world so near To teach me that childlike trust in Him Is "the one thing needful" here.

And so from the land, the Border Land,

I have turned me to earth once more;
But earth and its works were such trifles scanned
By the light of that radiant shore,

That oh! should they ever possess me again
Too deeply in heart and hand,

I must think how empty they seemed and vain
From the heights of the Border Land!

The Border Land had depths and vales,
Where sorrow for sin was known;

Where small seemed great, as weighed in scales
By the hand of God alone.

'Twas a land where earthly pride was not,
Where the poor were brought to mind
With their scanty bed, their friendless cot,
And their bread so hard to find.

But little I heard in the Border Land
Of all that passed below;

The once loud voices of human life
To the deafened ear were low.

I was deaf to the clang of its trumpet call,
Nor heeded its gibe or its sneer ;

Its riches were dust and the loss of all

Would then have scarce cost me a tear.

I met with a Friend in this Border Land
Whose teachings come with power
To the blinded and deafened ear,

eye

In affliction's loneliest hour.

"Times of refreshing" to the soul

In languor oft He brings

Prepare it then to meditate

On high and glorious things.

Oh! Holy Ghost, too often grieved
In health and earthly haste,
I bless those slow and silent hours
Which seemed to run to waste;
I would not but have passed those depths.
And such communion known

As can be held in the Border Land
With Thee, and Thee alone.

I have been to a land, a Border Land,-
May oblivion never roll

O'er the mighty lessons which then and there
Have been graven on my soul !

I have trodden a path I did not know,
Safe in my Saviour's hand;

I can trust Him for all the future now,
I have been to the Border Land!

A LESSON WORTH ENSHRINING.

A

LESSON in itself sublime,

A lesson worth enshrining
Is this: "I take no note of time
Save when the sun is shining."
These motto words a dial bore,

And wisdom never preaches

To human hearts a better lore

Than this short sentence teaches:

As life is sometimes bright and fair,
And sometimes dark and lonely,
Let us forget its toil and care,

And note its bright hours only.

There is no grove on earth's broad chart,
But has some bird to cheer it:
So hope sings on in every heart,
Although we may not hear it.
And if to-day the heavy wind
Of sorrow is oppressing,
Perchance to-morrow's sun will bring
The weary heart a blessing.

For life is sometimes bright and fair,
And sometimes dark and lonely;
Then let's forget its toil and care,
And note its bright hours only.

We bid the joyous moments haste,
And then forget their glitter;
We take the cup of life and taste
No portion but the bitter;

But we should teach our hearts to deem
Its sweetest drops and strongest ;
And pleasant hours should ever seem
To linger round us longest;

As life is sometimes bright and fair,
And sometimes dark and lonely,
Let us forget its toil and care,
And note its bright hours only.

The darkest shadows of the night
Are just before the morning;

« 上一页继续 »