(LXXV.) THE RETURNING DOVE.
["But the dove found no rest for the sole of her foot; and she returned unto him in the ark, for the waters were on the face of of the whole earth." Gen. viii. 9.]
WHEN Noah's Dove flew o'er the waters wide,
(Dark were those watery fields and stormy then,)
Boldly and far her daring flight she tried,
But found no rest, and wearied came again.
Christ is to us an Ark, a sheltering home,
A place of refuge in the hour of harm;
And yet too oft, with erring wing we roam,
And seek some other place of rest and calm.
But all in vain; no home of peace we find;
No arm of help, no shelter in the gale;
High beats the wave, and hostile is the wind,
And all around a thousand fears assail.
Return, oh, wandering one, thy steps retrace;
Return, and find again, thy blessed resting-place.
["But none of these things move me; neither count I my life dear unto myself, so that I might finish my course with joy, and the ministry, which I have received of the Lord Jesus, to testify the Gospel of the grace of God." Acts xx. 24.]
FAREWELL, thou pleasant earth and beaming sky!
Farewell, ye friends, our homes and hearts that blest!
Now is the time to suffer and to die,
And pluck from torture everlasting rest.
Welcome, the persecutor's scoff and spear!
Welcome, thrice welcome, agony and flame!
There's that within us, which shall conquer fear,
And gain the triumph in the Saviour's name.
Our Father gives; and shall we spurn the cup?
Then let the fiery billows round us roll;
'Tis well; if, while they burn the body up,
They touch not, harm not the immortal soul.
Earth claims its own, when "dust to dust is given;" But claims not, holds not, what was meant for Heaven.
["To an inheritance incorruptible, and undefiled, and that fadeth not away, reserved in heaven for you." 1 Peter i. 4.]
Too long to higher good and beauty blind,
I plucked the flowers, upon my path that grew:
Till, wounded by the thorns, my tortured mind
Resolves a better country to pursue.
Land of the Pilgrim's hope and fond desire!
The land, where wearied hearts at last may flee!
To thee at length my quickened thoughts aspire;
Mine eye is turned; my wings are plumed for thee.
And thus I bid, without a tear, farewell
To all that charmed my sublunary sense;
Enough for me, if I may rise and dwell,
Where joy shall make no work for penitence.
Oh, land, where wearied hearts at length may flee!
Mine eye is turned; my wings are plumed for thee.
(LXXVIII.) CHRIST'S INTERCESSION.
["If any man sin, we have an Advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous." John ii. 1.]
Oн, would we enter to the inward light,
And with the everlasting glory dwell;
As doth the eagle, in his steadfast flight,
Strike upward to the sun's bright citadel;
Oh, would we, ceasing here on earth to roam,
Nor seeking more its transitory flowers,
Build in the central blaze another home,
And thus forever make that glory ours;
Then upward look to the Eternal Throne;
Behold the mighty Intercessor there;
He hath the key, that makes it all our own,
(Unlocking all,) the golden key of Prayer.
any other way thou shalt not win;
'Tis Christ, and Christ alone, that lets his people in.
(LXXIX.) REJOICING IN GOD.
["The Lord is my rock and my fortress, and my deliverer; my God, my strength, in whom I will trust; my buckler, and the horn of my salvation, and my high tower." Ps. xviii. 2.]
THE bird not always mounteth on the wing,
Nor doth he always his sweet music pour;
But as he silent on the branch doth swing,
He ever ready is to sing or soar.
The music, heard not, lingers on his tongue;
His flight is poising, ere it upward rise;
Thus shall his sudden harp of joy be strung,
And thou shalt see him mounting in the skies.
Oh, Christian, be it ever thus with thee,
When sitting here, thou with the earth dost blend;
Still as we mark thee, let us always see,
Thou hast a wing just poising to ascend,
And that the song, which hath no outward voice, Still, in the inward soul, fails never to rejoice.
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