Hymns of Ter Steegen, Suso, and Others * PREFACE o THE ROYAL PRIESTHOOD o THE TASK o OIL AND WINE o PILGRIM SONG o THE BLESSED JOURNEY o THE HOME o THE HERMIT'S CELL o THE HIGH CALLING o AT REST o THE QUIET LAND o THE INHERITANCE o THE FAR AND NEAR o THE SHADOW OF HIS WINGS o AT LAST! o THE NAME ABOVE EVERY NAME o WITH HIM, ALL THINGS. o THE ARK OF GOD o WHITER THAN SNOW o WITHIN THE HOLIEST o THE HABITATION OF GOD o "THE SUN TO RULE BY DAY" o BREAD THAT STRENGTHENETH MAN'S HEARTS o THE SIN-OFFERING o PILGRIM SONG. o ALL MANNER OF PRECIOUS STONES o THE SCHOOL o THE SABBATH YEAR o NO MORE o THE OPENED EYES o THE CLOISTER GARDEN o THE SUMMER DAY o THE LAND OF REST o FOUND o THE RIVER OF GOD o WITHIN THE VEIL o EVENSONG o THE JOYFUL SOUND o THE GREAT HIGH PRIEST o MY GOD o IN THE GARDEN OF GOD o THE CHASE o THE FINDING o THE KNIGHT OF GOD o THE MAT o THE NIGHT WATCH o THE MEETING o THE THIRST OF GOD o "THE MARKS OF THE LORD JESUS" o THE NEW SONG o THE DANCE o "OUT OF THE DEPTHS" o "I AM NOT" o THE MASTER'S HAND o THE VESSEL OF WROUGHT GOLD o COMPANIONSHIP o MY WELCOME o "IT IS FINISHED" o "BEYOND THE BRIGHTNESS OF THE SUN" o EMMANUEL'S LAND o THE BRIDE o AMBASSADORS FOR CHRIST o THE PARADISE OF GOD o THE OUTCAST o "BANDS OF LOVE" o THE SECRET OF THE LORD o RIVERS IN THE DESERT o TO-MORROW o BROUGHT NIGH o THE INNER CHAMBER o LIGHT OF A STONE MOST PRECIOUS o THE BORDER OF HIS SANCTUARY o THE DIVINE LOVE o THE EVANGELIST o A LIGHT TO LIGHTEN THE GENTILES o THE LAST KNOCK o "THY FOOTSTEPS ARE NOT KNOWN" o THE JOY THAT WAS SET BEFORE HIM o CHILDHOOD o THE CLOVEN ROCK o SLEEPING AND WAKING o THE SECRET OF HIS PAVILION o THE GOSPEL ACCORDING TO PAUL o THE SONG OF CHRIST o THE SHEPHERD'S VOICE o THE WAYSIDE FEAST o HIS DWELLING-PLACE o A SONG o THE END OF THE JOURNEY o JESUS o THE LAST WATCH OF THE NIGHT o CITIZENS OF HEAVEN ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- Typed by Sherry A. Crann, 1997 from 245.3 B467h Buswell Library. This etext is in the public domain. ----------------------- HYMNS OF TER STEEGEN SUSO AND OTHERS BY FRANCES BEVAN AUTHOR OF "THREE FRIENDS OF GOD," "MATELDA AND THE CLOISTER OF HELLFDE," ETC. ETC. FIRST SERIES (Fourteenth Thousand) London JAMES NISBET & CO., LIMITED 22 BERNERS STREET, W. ----------------------- Printed by BALLANTYNE, HANSON & CO. At the Ballantyne Press, Edinburgh PREFACE The following Hymns, reprinted from the Sketches of the "Friends of God," of "The Quiet in the Land," and from the collection, now out of print, called "Service of Song," are sent forth in a separate form, in answer to the requests of many who are unacquainted with the language of the German authors, Gerhardt Ter Steegen and Heinrich Suso. For German readers, the hymns of Ter Steegen can be found in full (the translations being occasionally curtailed) in the "Blumen-Gartlein" of Gerhardt Ter Steegen. May they serve to lead some souls into the Land of Rest. F. B. 1894 THE ROYAL PRIESTHOOD Jer. xxxiii. 18; Rev. i.6. The race of God's anointed priests shall never pass away; Before His glorious Face they stand, and serve Him night and day. Though reason raves, and unbelief flows on, a mighty flood, There are, and shall be, till the end, the hidden priests of God. His chosen souls, their earthly dross consumed in sacred fire, To God's own heart their hearts ascend in flame of deep desire; The incense of their worship fills His Temple's holiest place; Their song with wonder fills the Heavens, the glad new song of grace. G. T. S. THE TASK Phil. iii. 7 To learn, and yet to learn, whilst life goes by, So pass the student's days; And thus be great, and do great things, and die, And lie embalmed with praise. My work is but to lose and to forget, Thus small, despised to be; All to unlearn - this task before me set; Unlearn all else but Thee. G. T. S. OIL AND WINE Is. xxxv. 10 There is a balm for every pain, A medicine for all sorrow; The eye turned backward to the Cross, And forward to the morrow. The morrow of the glory and the psalm, When He shall come; The morrow of the harping and the palm, The welcome home. Meantime in His beloved hands our ways, And on His Heart the wandering heart at rest; And comfort for the weary one who lays His head upon His Breast. G. T. S. PILGRIM SONG Deut. xxxi. 8. On, O beloved children, The evening is at hand, And desolate and fearful The solitary land. Take heart! the rest eternal Awaits our weary feet; From strength to strength press onwards, The end, how passing sweet! Lo, we can tread rejoicing The narrow pilgrim road; We know the voice that calls us, We know our faithful God. Come, children, on to glory! With every face set fast Towards the golden towers Where we shall rest at last. It was with voice of singing We left the land of night, To pass in glorious music Far onward out of sight. O children, was it sorrow? Though thousand worlds be lost, Our eyes have looked on Jesus, And thus we count the cost. The praising and the blaming, The storehouse and the mart, The mourning and the feasting, The glory and the art, The wisdom and the cunning, Left far amid the gloom; We may not look behind us, For we are going home. Across the will of nature Leads on the path of God; Not where the flesh delighteth The feet of Jesus trod. O bliss to leave behind us The fetters of the slave, To leave ourselves behind us, The grave-clothes and the grave! To speed, unburdened pilgrims, Glad, empty-handed, free; To cross the trackless deserts, And walk upon the sea; As strangers among strangers, No home beneath the sun; How soon the wanderings ended, The endless rest begun! We pass the children playing, For evening shades fall fast; We pass the wayside flowers- God's Paradise at last! If now the path be narrow And steep and rough and lone, If crags and tangles cross it, Praise God! we will go on. We follow in His footsteps; What if our feet be torn? Where He has marked the pathway All hail the briar and thorn! Scarce seen, scarce heard, unreckoned, Despised, defamed, unknown, Or heard but by our singing, On, children! ever on! G. T. S. THE BLESSED JOURNEY Is. xlii. 16. Let Him lead thee blindfold onwards, Love needs not to know; Children whom the Father leadeth Ask not where they go. Though the path be all unknown, Over moors and mountains lone. Give no ear to reason's questions: Let the blind man hold That the sun is but a fable Men believed of old. At the breast the babe will grow; Whence the milk he need not know. G. T. S. THE HOME Luke xv. 23, 24. Thou who givest of Thy gladness Till the cup runs o'er-- Cup whereof the pilgrim weary Drinks to thirst no more-- Not a-nigh me, but within me Is Thy joy divine; Thou, O Lord, hast made Thy dwelling In this heart of mine. Need I that a law should bind me Captive unto Thee? Captive is my heart, rejoicing Never to be free. Ever with me, glorious, awful, Tender, passing sweet, One upon whose heart I rest me, Worship at His Feet. With me, wheresoe'er I wander, That great Presence goes, That unutterable gladness, Undisturbed repose. Everywhere the blessed stillness Of His Holy Place-- Stillness of the love that worships Dumb before His Face. To Thy house, O God my Father, Thy lost child is come: Led by wandering lights no longer, I have found my home. Over moor and fen I tracked them Through the midnight blast, But to find the Light eternal In my heart at last. G. T. S. THE HERMIT'S CELL I John iv. 16. "In the world ye shall have tribulation:" Lord Jesus, Thou saidst it of old. There dark are the desolate mountains, The night winds are cold. But safe from the storm and the tempest My soul hath a cell; There ever, beside the still waters, With Jesus I dwell. There, hushed from the strife and the sorrow, Alone and apart, In chambers of peace and of stillness-- That Home is His Heart. G. T. S. THE HIGH CALLING Ps. xlv. 9. Child of the Eternal Father, Bride of the Eternal Son, Dwelling-place of God the Spirit, Thus with Christ made ever one; Dowered with joy beyond the Angels Nearest to His throne, They, the ministers attending His beloved one: Granted all my heart's desire, All things made my own; Feared by all the powers of evil, Fearing God alone; Walking with the Lord in glory Through the courts divine, Queen within the royal palace, Christ for ever mine; Say, poor worldling, can it be, That my heart should envy thee? G. T. S. AT REST Is. xl. 11. O God, a world of empty show, Dark wilds of restless, fruitless quest Lie round me wheresoe'er I go: Within, with Thee, is rest. And sated with the weary sum Of all men think, and hear, and see, O more than mother's heart, I come, A tired child to Thee. Sweet childhood of eternal life! Whilst troubled days and years go by, In stillness hushed from stir and strife, Within Thine Arms I lie. Thine Arms, to whom I turn and cling With thirsting soul that longs for Thee; As rain that makes the pastures sing, Art Thou, my God, to me. G. T. S. THE QUIET LAND Deut. xxvi. 9. Stillness midst the ever-changing, Lord, my rest art Thou; So for me has dawned the morning, God's eternal NOW. Now for me the day unsetting, Now the song begun; Now, the deep surpassing glory, Brighter than the sun. Hail! all hail! thou peaceful country Of eternal calm; Summer land of milk and honey, Where the streams are balm. There the Lord my Shepherd leads me, Wheresoe'er He will; In the fresh green pastures feeds me, By the waters still. Well I know them, those still waters! Peace and rest at last; In their depths the quiet heavens Tell the storms are past, Nought to mar the picture fair, Of the glory resting there. G. T. S. THE INHERITANCE Deut. xviii. 1, 2. Am I not enough, Mine own? enough, Mine own, for thee? Hath the world its palace towers, Garden glades of magic flowers, Where thou fain wouldst be? Fair things and false are there, False things but fair. All shalt thou find at last, Only in Me. Am I not enough, Mine own? I, for ever and alone, I, needing thee? G. T. S. THE FAR AND NEAR Ps. lxi. 4. In Him we live, in Him we move; seek not thy God afar; He is not prisoned in a height above sun, moon, and star. But thou through strange dark lands hast strayed, and wandered far from Him; And therfore He, O Soul, to thee, is distant and is dim. Lord, I was in the far-off land, I loved from Thee to stray, And when unto myself I came, a swine-herd far away, One moment - then the welcome sweet, the kiss, the Father's Home; Far distant was the distance; to Thy bosom I am come. G. T. S. THE SHADOW OF HIS WINGS Ps. iv. 8. The evening comes, the sun is sunk and gone, And all things lie in stillness and in rest; And thou, my soul, for thee one rest alone Remaineth ever, on the Father's breast. The wanderer rests at last each weary limb; Birds to their nests return from heath and hill; The sheep are gathered from the pastures dim-- In Thee, my God, my restless heart is still. Lord, gather from the regions dim and far Desires and thoughts that wandered far from Thee; To home and rest lead on, O guiding Star, No other home or nest but God for me. The daily toil of this worn body done, The spirit for untiring work is strong; Still hours of worhsip and of love begun, Of blessed vision and eternal song. In darkness and in silence still and sweet, With blessed awe my spirit feels Thee near; Within the Holiest, worships at They feet: Speak Thou, and silence all my soul to hear. To Thee my heart as incense shall arise; Consumed upon Thine altar all my will; Love, praise, and peace, an evening sacrifice, And in the Lord I rest, and I am still. G. T. S. AT LAST! Ps. lxxxiv. 4. Draw me to Thee, till far within Thy rest, In stillness of Thy peace, Thy voice I hear-- For ever quieted upon Thy breast, So loved, so near. By mystery of Thy touch my spirit thrilled, O Magnet all Divine; The hunger of my soul for ever stilled, For Thou art mine. For me, O Lord, the world is all too small, For I have seen Thy face, Where Thine eternal love irradiates all Within Thy secret place. And therefore from all others, from all else, Draw Thou my soul to Thee . . . . . . Yea - Thou hast broken the enchanter's spells, And I am free. Now in the haven of untroubled rest I land at last, The hunger, and the thirst, and weary quest For ever past. There, Lord, to lose, in bliss of Thine embrace The recreant will; There, in the radiance of Thy blessed Face, Be hushed and still; There, speechless at Thy pierced Feet See none and nought beside, And know but this - that Thou art sweet, That I am satisfied. G. T. S. THE NAME ABOVE EVERY NAME Luke i. 31. Name of Jesus! highest Name! Name that earth and Heaven adore! From the heart of God it came, Leads me to God's heart once more. Name of Jesus! living tide! Days of drought for me are past; How much more than satisfied, Are the thirsty lips at last! Name of Jesus! dearest Name! Bread of Heaven, and balm of love, Oil of gladness, surest claim To the treasures stored above. Jesus gives forgiveness free, Jesus cleanses all my stains, Jesus gives His life to me, Jesus always He remains. Only Jesus! fairest Name! Life, and rest, and peace and bliss; Jesus, evermore the same, He is mine, and I am His. G. T. S. WITH HIM, ALL THINGS. Is. xii. 2. Hath not each heart a passion and a dream? Each some companionship for ever sweet? And each in saddest skies some silver gleam, And each some passing joy, too fair and fleet? And each a staff and stay, though frail it prove, And each a face he fain would ever see? And what have I? An endless Heaven of love, A rapture, and a glory, and a calm; A life that is an everlasting Psalm, All, O Beloved, in Thee. G. T. S. THE ARK OF GOD Ps. xliii. 3. Peace! O restless heart of mine; Thou, the Still, the Blest, Lead me to Thy courts divine, Thine untroubled rest. Tossed upon the raving sea, Still, fair land, I long for thee. Lord, from Thee I went astray, Lured by magic song; Through dim places far away I have wandered long-- Now, when lost are moon and star, Shines the light of Home afar. O'er the waves that cannot rest, O'er the drifting foam, Wandering dove without a nest; Weary-winged, I come. From the lonely wastes of sin, Blessed Noah, take me in. Take me in, my heart implores, Leaving far behind All the thunder of the shores, All the wailing wind; In the chambers of Thy rest, Fold me, hush me, on Thy breast. . . . . . . . Still and sweet the silence deep, Where no foot hath trod; Softer than an infant's sleep, Rest alone with God; Closed on me Thy palace door, Perfect peace for evermore. G. T. S. WHITER THAN SNOW Heb. iv. 14 To heart and soul how sweet Thou art, O great High Priest of God! My heart brought nigh to God's own heart By Thy most precious blood. No more my countless sins shall rise To fill me with dismay-- That precious blood before His eyes Hath put them all away. My soul draws near with trust secure, With boldness glad and free; What matters it that I am poor, For I am rich in Thee. Forgotten every stain and spot, Their memory past and gone, For me, O God, Thou seest not, Thou lookest on Thy Son. Is all a dream? Thou canst not lie, Thy Spirit and Thy Blood Proclaim to sinners such as I The boundless love of God. They tell Thy love, so deep, so free, They tell the Father's heart-- Not what I am, or I must be, They tell me what Thou art. Come, weary sinners, great and small, The open door stands wide, Thy blessed heart that welcomes all, O Lamb of God, who died. G. T. S. WITHIN THE HOLIEST Rev. i. 5, 6. His priest am I, before Him day and night, Within His Holy Place; And death, and life, and all things dark and bright, I spread before His Face. Rejoicing with His joy, yet ever still, For silence is my song My work to bend beneath His blessed will, All day, and all night long-- For ever holding with Him converse sweet, Yet speechless, for my gladness is complete. G. T. S. THE HABITATION OF GOD Ps. xxvii. 4. Here on earth a temple stands, Temple never built with hands; There the Lord doth fill the place With the glory of His grace. Cleansed by Christ's atoning Blood, Thou art this fair House of God. Thoughts, desires, that enter there, Should they not be pure and fair? Meet for holy courts and blest, Courts of stillness and of rest, Where the soul, a priest in white, Singeth praises day and night; Glory of the love divine Filling all this heart of thine. G. T. S. "THE SUN TO RULE BY DAY" Phil. ii. 13. Thou sayest, "Fit me, fashion me for Thee." Stretch forth thine empty hands, and be thou still; O restless soul, thou dost but hinder Me By valiant purpose and by steadfast will. Behold the summer flowers beneath the sun, In stillness his great glory they behold; And sweetly thus his mighty work is done, And resting in his gladness they unfold. So are the sweetness and the joy divine Thine, O belov�d, and the work is Mine. G. T. S. BREAD THAT STRENGTHENETH MAN'S HEARTS John vi. 35 Man, earthy of the earth, an-hungered feeds On earth's dark poison tree-- Wild gourds, and deadly roots, and bitter weeds; And as his food is he. And hungry souls there are, that find and eat God's manna day by day-- And glad they are, their life is fresh and sweet, For as their food are they. G. T. S. THE SIN-OFFERING Matt. xxvii. 46 Still, O soul! the sign and wonder Of all ages see-- Christ, thy God, the King of glory, On the Cross for thee; From the Father's bosom come, Wandering soul, to bring thee home. Wouldst thou know if Jesus loves thee? If He loves thee well? See Him suffer, broken-hearted, All the pains of hell-- Smitten, bearing in thy room All thy guilt, and all thy doom. See Him of His God forsaken, Hear His bitter cries Rise unanswered through the darkness Of the silent skies-- See the fountain of the blood Shed to bring thee back to God. Mine the sin, O mighty Saviour, Laid by God on Thee-- Mine eternal condemnation In Thy Cross I see-- In Thine agony divine See the curse that else were mine. See the conquest and the triumph Thou for me hast won; Justice satisfied for ever, All God's pleasure done. Thus, O smitten Rock! from Thee, Life eternal flows to me. Unto me, the base, the guilty, Flows that living flood; I, Thine enemy, am ransomed By Thy precious Blood. Silent at Thy feet I lie, Lost in love's immensity. G. T. S. PILGRIM SONG. Ps. cxxxvi. 16 Come, children, on and forward! With us the Father goes; He leads us, and He guards us Through thousands of our foes: The sweetness and the glory, The sunlight of His eyes, Make all the desert places To glow as paradise. Lo! through the pathless midnight The fiery pillar leads, And onward goes the Shepherd Before the flock He feeds; Unquestioning, unfearing, The lambs may follow on, In quietness and confidence, Their eyes on Him alone. Come, children, on and forward! We journey hand in hand, And each shall cheer his brother All through the stranger land; And hosts of God's high angels Beside us walk in white; What wonder if our singing Make music through the night? Come, children, on and forward! Each hour nearer home! The pilgrim days speed onward, And soon the last will come. All hail! O golden city! How near the shining towers! Fair gleams our Father's palace: That radiant home is ours. On! dare and suffer all things! Yet but a stretch of road, Then wondrous words of welcome, And then the Face of God. The world, how small and empty! Our eyes have looked on Him; The mighty Sun has risen, The taper burneth dim. Far through the depths of Heaven Our Jesus leads His own, The Mightiest, the Fairest, Christ ever, Christ alone. Led captive by His sweetness, And dowered with His bliss, For ever He is ours, For ever we are His. G. T. S. ALL MANNER OF PRECIOUS STONES Mal. iii. 17. There it is fair, Where thousand, thousand flames for evermore In God's high palace glow, No more they light the dark and misty shore, As long ago: They burn, a crown of every radiant stone, For ever and for ever round the throne, Christ's diadem. Eternal lamps that never can be dim, Fed by the golden oil that flows to them For ever from the Heart whence flowed the Blood, They shine with light of every precious gem, Light of the joy of God. Past, pain and sorrow, and all sighs and tears, All shadows and all stains, The former things of all the ancient years, And Christ remains. All swallowed up in fulness of the joy Where Jesus is-- For spirit, soul, and body, one employ, To share His bliss. There do the lips of babes tell forth His ways, His wonders deep; And sweet their song, and innocent their praise, For they have known but Heaven's unsullied days And earth's short sleep, To wake in everlasting gladness there, Where all is fair. G. T. S. THE SCHOOL Matt. xviii. 3. Where is the school for each and all, Where men become as children small, And little ones are great? Where love is all the task and rule, The fee our all, and all at school, Small, poor, of low estate? Where to unlearn all things I learn, From self and from all others turn, One Master hear and see? I learn and do one thing alone, And wholly give myself to One Who gives Himself to me. My task, possessing nought, to give; No life to have, yet ever live-- And ever losing, gain; To follow, knowing not the way; If He shall call, to answer, "Yea-- All hail all shame and pain!" Where silent in His Holy Place I look enraptured on His Face In glory undefiled; And know the heaven of His kiss, The doing nought, the simple bliss Of being but a child. Where find the school, to men unknown, Where time and place are past and gone, The hour is ever NOW? O soul! thou needest ask no more; God tells thee of His open door: Still, hearken thou! G. T. S. THE SABBATH YEAR Heb. iv. 10. Oft comes to me a blessed hour, A wondrous hour and still-- With empty hands I lay me down, No more to work or will. An hour when weary thought has ceased, The eyes are closed in rest; And, hushed in Heaven's untroubled peace, I lie upon Thy breast. Erewile I reasoned of Thy truth, I searched with toil and care; From morn to night I tilled my field, And yet my field was bare. Now, fed with corn from fields of Heaven The fruit of Hands Divine, I pray no prayer, for all is given, The Bread of God is mine. There lie my books--for all I sought My heart possesses now. The words are sweet that tell They love, The love itself art Thou. One line I read--and then no more-- I close the book to see No more the symbol and the sign, But Christ revealed to me. And thus my worship is, delight-- My work, to see His Face, With folded hands and silent lips Within His Holy place. Thus oft to busy men I seem A cumberer of the soil; The dreamer of an empty dream, Whilst others delve and toil. O brothers! in these silent hours God's miracles are wrought; He giveth His beloved in sleep A treasure all unsought. I sit an infant at His feet Where moments teach me more Than all the toil, and all the books Of all the ages hoar. I sought the truth, and found but doubt-- I wandered far abroad; I hail the truth already found Within the heart of God. G. T. S. NO MORE Is. lx. 20. O past and gone! How great is God! how small am I! A mote in the illimitable sky, Amidst the glory deep, and wide, and high Of Heaven's unclouded sun. There to forget myself for evermore; Lost, swallowed up in Love's immensity, The sea that knows no sounding and no shore, God only there, not I. More near than I unto myself can be, Art Thou to me; So have I lost myself in finding Thee, Have lost myself for ever, O my Sun! The boundless Heaven of Thine eternal love Around me, and beneath me, and above; In glory of that golden day The former things are passed away-- I, past and gone. G. T. S. THE OPENED EYES John ix. 37. "Where is a God?" doth weary Reason say-- "I see but starlit skies." "Where is the sun?" So calleth at noonday The man with sightless eyes. Thou, little child, from thee God is not far; Look inwards, not above: Thou needest not to roam from star to star, For God is Love. G. T. S. THE CLOISTER GARDEN Ps. xci. 1. How good it is, when weaned from all beside, With God alone the soul is satisfied, Deep hidden in His heart! How good it is, redeemed, and washed, and shriven, To dwell, a cloistered soul, with Christ in heaven, Joined, never more to part! How good the heart's still chamber thus to close On all but God alone-- There in the sweetness of His love repose, His love unknown! All else for ever lost--forgotten all That else can be; In rapture undisturbed, O Lord, to fall And worship Thee. No place, no time, 'neath those eternal skies-- How still, how sweet, and how surpassing fair That solitude in glades of Paradise, And, as in olden days, God walking there. I hear His voice amidst the stillness blest, And care and fear are past-- I lay me down within His arms to rest From all my works at last. How good it is when from the distant land, From lonely wanderings, and from weary ways, The soul hath reached at last the golden strand, The Gates of Praise! There, where the tide of endless love flows free, There, in the sweet and glad eternity, The still, unfading Now. Ere yet the days and nights of earth are o'er, Begun the day that is for evermore-- Such rest are Thou! G. T. S. THE SUMMER DAY Cant. i. 7. Sweet shades and fields that glow with summer flowers, How dear are ye to me! Alone with Jesus, doth my heart adore Him, That ye are fair to see. Sweet shades and fields that glow with summer flowers, How dear are ye to me! Nought seen in you but tender grace revealing, How fair His thoughts must be. Sweet shades and fields that glow with summer flowers, How dear are ye to me! How soft the breathings of Thy love, Lord Jesus, I rest my heart on Thee. All, all that buds, and blossoms, and rejoices, Hath my Beloved made; His wisdom and His tenderness and gladness Told forth in leaf and blade. All, all that buds, and blossoms, and rejoices, Hath my Beloved made; All moves unto the music of His power That fills the woodland glade. All, all that buds, and blossoms, and rejoices, Hath my Beloved made; But heaven and earth, in all their radiant glory To Him are midnight shade. Lord Jesus, Thee to meet and to adore Thee, I sit here all alone-- All else may vanish as the mists of morning, Thou art mine all, mine own. Lord Jesus, Thee to meet and to adore Thee, I sit here all alone; To drink afresh the river of Thy pleasures, Know more of the unknown. Lord Jesus, Thee to meet and to adore Thee, I sit here all alone; And lose myself, and find that Thou art only, Beside Thee nought and none. Alone with Thee to dwell, O my Beloved, Is heaven on earth begun; Whilst vanity of vanities outwearies All hearts beneath the Sun. Alone with Thee to dwell, O by Beloved, Is heaven on earth begun; Above the midnight and the noonday glory, Our resting-place is won. Alone with Thee to dwell, O my Beloved, Is heaven on earth begun; And Thou my joy, mine everlasting Heaven, My pilgrim journey done. G. T. S. THE LAND OF REST Rev. xxi. 5. Wanderer, rest thy weary feet; Shapes and sounds forgotten now- Close thine eyes in stillness sweet, With thy God alone art thou. In the deeps of silence rest, Let Him work His high behest. Silence! reasonings hard and keen, Still--O longings sad and deep-- Waken to the morn serene, Tangled dreams depart with sleep; In the calm eternal day Night's wild visions past away. In the silence of that dawn God shall speak His words of grace, Light that round thy waking shone Is the radiance of His Face; Yearning of His heart to thee, Fills the deep immensity. Gently loosens He thy hold Of the treasured former things-- Loves and joys that were of old, Shapes to which the spirit clings-- And alone, alone He stands, Stretching forth beseeching hands. Lo, the soul Thy love has bought, Through the ages, Lord, am I, Knowing nought, and willing nought, Thine alone eternally-- Thine, the Bride Thy love has won, Gift of God to Christ His Son. In Thy strength my soul is still Clay within the potter's hands, Moulded by Thy tender will Mightier than all commands; Shaped and moved by Thee alone, Now, and evermore Thine own. G. T. S. FOUND Matt. xviii. 12 O God, through Christ the living way, My Father and my God, So near, and I so far astray, Brought nigh Thee by His Blood. Myself, and this, and that, I sought Behind, around, before-- And yet the nearest found I not, Until I sought no more. O Love, Thou deep eternal tide, How dear are men to Thee! The Father's heart is opened wide By Jesus' Blood to me. It was Thyself, O God, who sought, With tender yearnings deep, The loveless sould who sought Thee not, The worthless, wandering sheep. I come, yet leave myself behind, And thus unfearing come, For nought besides Thyself I find In mine eternal Home. I come--Thine open arms enfold And welcome me within-- Let others work to bring their gold, I only bring my sin. Thou bringest love and gladness forth From Thine exhaustless store, To me, deserving but Thy wrath, The life for evermore. And now by magnet force led on, I reach the inmost rest-- The nameless rapture of the son Upon the Father's breast. G. T. S. THE RIVER OF GOD Ps. xlvi. 4. From the Rock that God has riven Flows the sacred river, Through the wastes of barren ages, Ever and for ever. Still on this side and on that side, Grow the healing trees-- Bearing fruit for all who hunger, Leaves for all disease. From the everlasting fountains Still it flows along, Making glad the holy city Of eternal song. From the throne of Christ in glory, Rock that God has riven, Onward still the crystal river Bears the life of Heaven. Sheep lie yet in quiet pastures By the waters still, Lilies grow in God's green meadows, Cedars on His hill. Still to drink the living waters Come the souls athirst, Eyes behold the Face of Jesus Even as at first. Clad in white there walk beside Him Still the blessed throng-- Through the ages sound unsilenced Psaltery and song. Onwards weary generations Pass through deserts dread, Void and silent skies above them, Under them the dead. Whilst unseen the Lord's fair garden Round about them glows, And the barren wildernesses Blossom as the rose. Whilst beside them unimagined Glide the waters fair-- Whilst around, the psalms ascending Tell that Christ is there. C. P. C. WITHIN THE VEIL Ps. c. 4. God is present with us--let us fall and worship, Holy is the place; God is in the midst, our souls are silent, Bowed before His Face. Lord, we kneel before Thee, Awed by love Divine, We of Thee unworthy Own that we are Thine. Gladly cast before Thee all delights and pleasures, All our hoarded store-- Lord, behold our hearts, our souls, and bodies, Thine, and ours no more. We, O God, Thine only, Nevermore our own-- Thine the praise and honour, Thine, and Thine alone. Thou Who fillest all things, in Thee, living, moving, Evermore are we; Shoreless sea unsounded, mystery and wonder, Sinks my soul in Thee-- I in Thee--no longer Bound in self's dark prison, And the life that moves me, Fills me, Christ arisen. Thou the Light that fillest all the endless heavens, Shinest on my face, As the tender flowers joyfully unfolding In their silent grace, Whilst the Sun beholds them-- Thus my soul is still, Thine the glorious power, Thine the mighty will. Mine but to be simple; in the fields of heaven All my sweet employ, Loving and delighting, as a child that singeth With unbiden joy-- As an eagle soaring Up the radiant skies, Even now to find Thee In Thy Paradise. G. T. S. EVENSONG Ps. xci. 4. Take me, Jesus, to Thy breast; Folded close in warmth and rest, Keep me near to Thee; Silenced in the bliss profound Of the love that wraps me round, Every care shall be. Every breath for Thee alone, O my heart's beloved One; Comfort me in sleep. Still deep rest art Thou to Thine, Safely in Thine arms divine Thy beloved keep. G. T. S. THE JOYFUL SOUND I Cor. i. 23, 24. O that Thy Name may be sounded Afar over earth and sea, Till the dead awaken and praise Thee, And the dumb lips sing to Thee! Sound forth as a song of triumph Wherever man's foot has trod, The despised, the derided message, The foolishness of God. Jesus, dishonoured and dying, A felon on either side-- Jesus, the song of the drunkards, Jesus the Crucified! Name of God's tender comfort, Name of His glorious power, Name that is song and sweetness, The strong everlasting tower. Jesus the Lamb accepted, Jesus the Priest on His throne-- Jesus the King who is coming-- Jesus, Thy Name alone! C. P. C. THE GREAT HIGH PRIEST Heb. vii. 24, 25. Sweet to trace His toiling footsteps Here amidst the desert sands; Bear in memory all His sorrow, Thorn-clad head and pierced hands! Learn His love beside the manger, Learn it on the stormy wave, By the well, and in the garden-- Learn it by the Cross and grave. Yet not only in remembrance Do we watch that stream of love-- Still a mighty torrent flowing From the throne of God above. Still a treasure all uncounted-- Still a story half untold-- Unexhausted and unfathomed, Fresh as in the days of old. Christ at God's right hand unwearied By our tale of shame and sin, Day by day, and hour by hour, Welcoming each wanderer in; On His heart amidst the glory, Bearing all our grief and care; Every burden, ere we feel it, Weighed and measured in His prayer. Fragrant thus with priestly incense Each distress, each sorrow tells Thoughts that fill the heart of Jesus In the glory where He dwells. All His love, His joy, His glory, By His Spirit here made known, Whilst that Spirit speaks the sorrows Of His saints before the throne. He, of old the Man of Sorrows, Pleads before the Father's face, Knowing all the needed solace, Claiming all the needed grace. We, so faithless and so weary, Serving with impatient will-- He unwearied in our service, Gladly ministering still. Girded with the golden girdle, Shining as the mighty sun, Still His pierc�d hands will finish All His work of love begun. On the night of His betrayal, In the glory of the throne, Still with faithful patience washing All defilement from His own. When the Father's house resoundeth With the music and the song; When the bride in glorious raiment Sees the One who loved so long; Then for new and blessed service Girt afresh will He appear, Stand and serve before His angels Those who waited for Him here. He who led them through the desert, Watched and guided day by day, Turned the flinty rocks to water, Made them brooks beside the way-- He will bring them where the fountains Fresh and full spring forth above, Still throughout the endless ages Serving in the joy of love. T. P. MY GOD Ps. lxxiii. 25. As the bridegroom to his chosen, As the king unto his realm, As the keep unto the castle, As the pilot to the helm, So, Lord, art Thou to me. As the fountain in the garden, As the candle in the dark, As the treasure in the coffer, As the manna in the ark, So, Lord, art Thou to me. As the music at the banquet, As the stamp unto the seal, As the medicine to the fainting, As the wine-cup at the meal, So, Lord, art Thou to me. As the ruby in the setting, As the honey in the comb, As the light within the lantern, As the father in the home, So, Lord, art Thou to me. As the sunshine to the heavens, As the image to the glass, As the fruit unto the fig-tree, As the dew unto the grass, So, Lord, art Thou to me. J. Tauler. IN THE GARDEN OF GOD Cant. ii. 2. As the lily of the valley, White and pure and sweet, As the lowly violet trodden Under wandering feet; As the rose amidst the briars Fresh and fair is found, Heedless of the tangled thicket, And the thorns around-- As the sun-flower ever turning To the mighty sun, With the faithfulness of fealty Following only one-- So make me, Lord, to Thee. J. Tauler THE CHASE Is. xli. 17. O Lord, the most fair, the most tender, My heart is adrift and alone; My heart is aweary and thirsty-- Athirst for a joy unknown. From a child I have followed it--chased it, By wilderness, wold, and hill-- I never have reached it or seen it, yet must I follow it still. In those olden years did I seek it In the sweet fair things around, But the more I sought and I thirsted, The less, O my Lord, I found. When nearest it seemed to my grasping, It fled like a wandering thought; I never have known what it is, Lord-- Too well know I what it is not. "It is I, it is I, the Eternal, Who chose thee Mine own to be-- Who chose thee before the ages-- Who chose thee eternally. I stood in the way before thee, In the ways thou wouldest have gone; For this is the mark of My chosen, That they shall be Mine alone." H. Suso. THE FINDING Deut. xxxii. 10. Now have I seen Thee and found Thee, For Thou hast found Thy sheep; I fled, but Thy love would follow-- I strayed, but Thy grace would keep. Thou hast granted my heart's desire-- Most blest of the blessed is he Who findeth no rest and no sweetness Till he rests, O Lord, in Thee. O Lord, Thou seest, Thou knowest, That to none my heart can tell The joy and the love and the sorrow, The tale that my heart knows well. But to Thee, O my God, I can tell it-- To Thee, and to Thee, Lord, alone; For Thy heart my heart hath a language, For other hearts it hath none. In the wide world, speechless and lonely, For me is no heart but Thine; Lord, since I must love Thee only, Oh reveal Thy heart to mine. "Wouldst thou know My glory, beloved? Know Me, the great I AM? First must thine eyes behold Me, The slain and the stricken Lamb. "My visage so marred more than any, My form than the sons of men; Yet to the heart I have won Me, I am the fairest then. Thou knowest the sun by his glory-- Thou knowest the rose by her breath, Thou knowest the fire by its glowing-- Thou knowest My love by death. "Wouldst thou know in My great creation Where the rays of My glory meet? Where to My awful righteousness The kiss of My peace is sweet? Where shine forth the wisdom and wonder Of God's everlasting plan? Behold on the cross of dishonour A cursed and a dying Man." H. Suso. THE KNIGHT OF GOD Acts ix. 16. As the song of him who singeth, Playing on a harp of gold, So to me was Christ's evangel In the days of old. Thus across the lake of Constance Went I forth to preach His Word, And beside me sat the squire Of a noble Lord. None in all the ship so knightly, None so bravely dight as he-- "Tell me," I besought, "thine errand Yonder o'er the sea." "I go forth," he said, "to gather Many a knight and noble bold; They shall tilt at joust and tourney, Whilst fair eyes behold. "And the bravest and the noblest He shall win a glorious prize, Smiles to boot, and courtly favour In the ladies' eyes." "Tell me what shall be the guerdon?" "Lo, the fairest in the land Sets a gold ring on his finger With her lily hand." "Tell me how the knight may win it?" "Scars and bruises must he boast, For the knight shall be the winner Who endures the most." "Tell me, if when first assaulted, He in knightly guise shall stand, Shall he win the golden guerdon From his lady's hand?" "Nay, right on, till all is over, Must a worthy knight hold on; Bear the brunt, and stand a conqueror When the fight is done." "And if he be wounded sorely, Will he weep and will he mourn?" "Nay, in place of winning honour, He would win but scorn." Then my spirit sank within me, And within my heart I spake-- "O my Lord, thus fight the knightly For their honour's sake. "Small the prize, and stern the battle, Worthless gain, and weary fight-- Lord, a ring of stones most precious Hast thou for Thy knight! "Oh, to be the knight of Jesus! Scorning pain, and shame, and loss; There the crown, the joy, the glory, Here, O Lord, Thy Cross." Then I wept, with bitter longing Thus the knight of God to be; And the Lord, who saw me weeping, Gave the cross to me. Bitter pain, and shame, and sorrow Came upon me as a flood-- I forgot it was the tourney Of the knights of God. And again I wept, beseeching, "Take the Cross, O Lord, from me!" Till a light broke like the morning Over the wild sea. Then there spake the Voice beloved, Still and sweet my heart within-- "is it thus, O knight of Jesus, Thou the prize wilt win?" "O my Lord, the fight is weary-- Weary, and my heart is sore!" "And," he answered, "fair the guerdon, And for evermore." "I have shamed Thee, craven-hearted, I have been Thy recreant knight-- Own me yet, O Lord, albeit Weeping whilst I fight." "Nay," He said; "yet wilt thou shame Me? Wilt thou shame thy knightly guise? I would have My angels wonder At thy gladsome eyes. "Need'st thou pity, knight of Jesus?-- Pity for thy glorious hest? On! let God and men and angels See that thou art blest! H. Suso. THE MAT Is. l. 6. It was on a winter's morning In the days of old, In his cell sat Father Henry, Sorrowful and cold. "O my Lord, I am aweary," In his heart he spake, "For my brethren scorn and hate me For Thy blessed sake. "If I had but one to love me That were joyful cheer-- One small word to make me sunshine Through the darksome year! "But they mock me and despise me Till my heart is stung-- Then my words are wild and bitter, Tameless is my tongue." Then the Lord said, "I am with thee; Trust thyself to Me; Open thou thy little casement, Mark what thou shalt see." Then a piteous look and wistful Father Henry cast Out into the dim old cloister And the wintry blast. Was it that a friend was coming By some Angel led? No! a great hound wild and savage Round the cloister sped. Some old mat that lay forgotten Seized he on his way-- Tore it, tossed it, dragged it wildly Round the cloister gray. "Lo, the hound is like thy brethren," Spake the Voice he knew; "If thou are the mat, beloved, What hast thou to do?" Meekly then went Father Henry, And the mat he bare To his little cell to store it As a jewel rare. Many a winter and a summer Through those cloisters dim, Did he thenceforth walk rejoicing, And the Lord with him. And when bitter words would sting him, Turned he to his cell, Took his mat, and looked upon it, Saying, "All is well. "He who is the least and lowest Needs but low to lie; Lord, I thank Thee and I praise Thee That the mat am I." "On the cold and footworn pavement Lies it still and flat, Raves not if men trample on it, For it is a mat." Then he wept, for in the stillness His Beloved spake, "Thus was I the least and lowest, Gladly, for thy sake. "Lo, My face to shame and spitting Did I turn for thee; If thou art the least and lowest, Then remember Me." H. Suso. THE NIGHT WATCH Ps. cxxx. 6. Oh when shall the fair day break, and the hour of gladness come, When I to my heart's Beloved, to Thee, O my Lord, go home? O Lord, the ages are long, and weary my heart for Thee, For Thee, O my one Beloved, whose Voice shall call for me. I would see Thee face to face, Thou Light of my weary eyes, I wait and I watch till morning shall open the gate of the skies; The morn when I rise aloft, to my one, my only bliss, To know the smile of Thy welcome, the mystery of Thy kiss. For here hath my foot no rest, and mine eye sees all things fair As a dream of a land enchanted, for my heart's love is not there; And amidst the thronging of men I am lonelier than alone, For my eye seeketh One I find not, my heart craveth only One. H. Suso. THE MEETING Rom. viii. 35. To Thee, Lord, my heart unfoldeth, As the rose to the golden sun-- To Thee, Lord, mine arms are clinging, The eternal joy begun. For ever, through endless ages, Thy cross and Thy sorrow shall be The glory, the song, and the sweetness That make heaven heaven to me. Let one in his innocence glory, Another in works he has done-- Thy Blood is my claim and my title, Beside it, O Lord, I have none. The Scorned, the Despised, the Rejected, Thou hast won Thee this heart of mine; In Thy robes of eternal glory Thou welcomest me to Thine. H. Suso. THE THIRST OF GOD John iv. 7. The hart panteth after the waters, The dying for life that departs; The Lord in His glory for sinners, For the love of rebellious hearts. Call back all the days of the ages, All snow-flakes come down from above; All flowers of summers departed, But think not to measure His love. Behold Him, O soul, where He told it, Pale, bleeding, and bearing thy sin; He knocketh, saith, "Open, beloved, I pray thee to let Me come in. Behold, I have borne all the judgment, Thy sins, O beloved, are gone; Forgotten, forgotten for ever, God seeketh, but findeth not one. "Behold, with what labour I won thee, Behold in My hands and My feet, The tale of my measureless sorrow-- Of love that made sorrow so sweet. A flax-thread in oceans of fire How soon swallowed up would it be! Yet sooner in oceans of mercy The sinner that cometh to Me." H. Suso. "THE MARKS OF THE LORD JESUS" Phil. iii. 10. I would bear in my body the dying Of Him who has died for me-- Here share, O my Lord, Thy rejection Ere I sit on Thy throne with Thee. I see Thee alone, broken-hearted, Of comforters findest Thou none; Yet Thine was the gladness of Heaven, The love and the glory Thine own. The gall and the vinegar only, The thirst of Thine agony stills; Yet Thine were the streams and the fountains Of Thine everlasting hills. In sorrow, in want, in dishonour, How dear are Thy footsteps to me; The fountain is sweet to the thirsty, But sweeter is thirsting with Thee. Thus to show to the world that rejects Thee, To show to the Angels above, How blessed Thy yoke and Thy burden, To him who has tasted Thy love. The maiden who gathereth roses, Another, another would find; So sweet are the tracks of Thy sorrow To him who would follow behind. Thus would I press on to the glory, A knight in the army of God, Whose march will be onward and forward Because of the foes on the road. Above me the stars in the heavens, Stars countless, so many they be; So glorious, albeit so countless The sorrows I suffer for Thee. (H. Suso?) THE NEW SONG Job xxxv. 10. O Lord, in my songs I have praised Thee For all that was sweet and was fair; And now a new song would I sing Thee, A song that is wondrous and rare. A song of the heart that is broken, A song of the sighs and the tears, The sickness, the want, and the sadness Of the days of our pilgrimage years. A song of the widows and orphans, Of the weary and hungry and sad-- Loud praise of the will Thou has broken, The will of the young and the glad. A song of the outcasts and martyrs, A song of the scorned and despised-- The lonely, dishonoured, forsaken, Who knew the rejection of Christ. Sweet sings the great choir of sorrow The song of the gladness untold, To Him on the Throne of His glory, Who wept in the days of old. H. Suso. THE DANCE Ps. cxlix. 3. To praise Him in the dance! O glorious day! The pilgrim journey done-- No more press forward on the weary way, For all is reached and won! His Hand at last, the Hand once pierced for me, For ever holdeth mine; O Lord, no songs, no harps of heaven wil be Sweet as one word of Thine. Lord, altogether lovely! then at last High shall the guerdon be, Thy kiss outweigh the weary ages past Of hearts that brake for Thee. . . . . . . Yet now I know Thee as the hidden Bread, The living One, who died-- Who sitteth at my table--by my bed-- Who walketh at my side. I know Thee as the fountain of deep bliss, Whereof one drop shall make The joys of all the world as bitterness, My Lord, for Thy sweet sake. Lord, Thou hast loved me--and henceforth to me Earth's noonday is but gloom; My soul sails forth on the eternal sea, And leaves the shore of doom. I pass within the glory even now, Where shapes and words are not, For joy that passeth words, O Lord, art Thou, A bliss that passeth thought. I enter there, for Thou hast borne away The burden of my sin; With conscience clear as heaven's unclouded day Thy courts I enter in. Heaven now for me--for ever Christ and heaven-- The endless NOW begun-- No promise--but a gift eternal given, Because the work is done. H. Suso. "OUT OF THE DEPTHS" 2 Cor. iv. 17. "O Father! not my will, but Thine be done!" Thus with my lips I say; Yet lags the heart, the while the lips would run-- My heart, it sayeth "Nay." "Be comforted, O child of My delight, Though yet thy heart complain; For I would have thee suffer when I smite, Or pain would not be [g]ain. "Were it a chastening if it were not grief? Yet for a moment tears-- Then glows the spring where fell the yellow leaf, Of Heaven's eternal years. "For sorrow is the sorrow of an hour, And is eternal love; The dusky bud enfolds the glorious flower For God's delight above." O Lord, whose lips are lilies, sweet to me As psaltery and as psalm, Thy blessed words of glory that shall be, Of song, and crown, and palm. Yet sweeter even now to see Thy Face, To find Thee now my rest-- My sorrow comforted in Thine embrace, And soothed upon Thy breast. Lord, there to weep is better than the joy Of all the sons of men; For there I know the love without alloy, I cannot lose again. "O child, My heart's beloved, sweet to me, As psaltery and as psalm, The voice of him who on the midnight sea Can praise through storm and calm. "And who is he who seeks the haven fair, The everlasting Home? The lonely and the outcast enter there-- The glad heart will not come. "To Me the weary cometh when the way Is steep and long and lone-- To Me the friendless, when the golden day Behind the hills is gone." . . . . . . Then spake my heart, "For him who comes are pain And bitter tears and scars; The briars of the wilderness remain Griefs countless as the stars. "As he who from the poor his garment takes When drives the storm and sleet, Is he who singeth to the heart that breaks How then may grief be sweet?" And lo! in vision fair did I behold One who a psaltery strung-- Two threads he stretched above the strings of gold, Across, and all along. Then with the threads thus crosswise o'er the strings, Gave he the harp to me-- Thus know I how the broken-hearted sings, O Lamb of God, to Thee. H. Suso. "I AM NOT" John i. 21. "I am not;" O words unwelcome To the lips of men-- "I am not;" O words that lead us Back to God again! Speech of him who knows the pathway To that refuge sweet, Where is covert from the tempest, Shadow from the heat. Speech of Heaven, from wise men hidden, Unto children taught; Few the words of that great lesson, Only "I am not." Heart of man, another language Is thy native speech, Spoken by a thousand races, All alike in each. "I am,--"rich, or wise, or holy-- "Thus, and thus am I;" For "I am," men live and labour, For "I am," they die. For "I am," men dare and suffer, Count all loss as gain, Toil and weariness and bondage, Sin and grief and pain. In the blessed Gospel read we How a rich man bade Christ the Lord and His disciples To a feast he made. Well it was to feed the prophet; Thus the rich man thought, But amidst his wealth and bounty Lacked he "I am not." Then there came a sinful woman, Eyes with weeping dim-- "I am not," her heart was saying-- She had looked on Him. He beheld her broken-hearted, Ruined and undone, Yet enthroned above the angels Brighter than the Sun. All the while in dust before Him Did her heart adore, "I am not," that song of gladness-- "Thou art, evermore." For His heart to hers had spoken, To His wandering lamb; In the speech of Love Eternal, He had said "I AM." Now she thirsts no more for ever, All she would is given; None on earth hath she beside Him, None beside in Heaven. Oh how fair that heavenly portion, That eternal lot; Christ, and Christ alone, for ever-- Ever "I am not." H. Suso. THE MASTER'S HAND Phil. i. 21. "To me to live is Christ," and yet the days Are days of toiling men; We rise at morn, and tread the beaten ways, And lay us down again. How is it that this base, unsightly life Can yet be Christ alone? Our common need, and weariness, and strife, While common days wear on? Then saw I how before a Master wise A shapeless stone was set; He said, "Therein a form of beauty lies Though none behold it yet." "When all beside it shall be hewn away, That glorious shape shall stand, In beauty of the everlasting day, Of the unsullied land." Thus is it with the homely life around, There hidden, Christ abides; Still by the single eye for ever found That seeketh none besides. When hewn and shaped till self no more is found, Self, ended at Thy Cross; The precious freed from all the vile around, No gain, but blessed loss, Then Christ alone remains--the former things For ever passed away; And unto Him the heart in gladness sings All through the weary day. H. Suso. THE VESSEL OF WROUGHT GOLD Heb. vi. 19, 20. I go on my way rejoicing, Though weary the wilderness road-- I go on my way rejoicing In hope of the glory of God. Oh well do I know that glory, That Home and that welcome sweet, Where above the mists and the shadows With the heart of my God I meet. There the ship of my soul is harboured In the calm of the crystal sea, For within the veil is the anchor, Where Jesus has entered for me. Awhile in the earthen vessel The treasures of glory gleam; In Heaven the fount eternal, In the desert the living stream. And looking on Christ in glory, That glory so still, so fair, There passes a change upon me, Till I am as He who is there. Then no more in the earthen vessel The treasure of God shall be, But in full and unclouded beauty, O Lord, wilt Thou shine through me. Afar through the golden vessel Will the glory of God shine bright; There shall be no need for the sunshine, For the Lamb shall be the light. With the light of the Stone most precious Shall the City of God be fair; He shall shine who is like to the jasper In His cloudless glory there. Undimmed in that wondrous vessel, That light of surpassing love Shall illumine the earth in its gladness, And shall fill the heavens above. All, all in His new creation, The glory of God shall see; And the lamp for that light eternal The Bride of the Lamb shall be. A golden lamp in the heavens, That all may see and adore The lamb who was slain and who liveth, Who liveth for evermore. So I go on my way rejoicing That the heavens and earth shall see His grace, and His glory and beauty, In the depth of His love to me. F. M. COMPANIONSHIP John xi. 35. We thank Thee, Lord, for weary days When desert springs were dry, And first we knew what depth of need Thy love could satisfy. Days when beneath the desert sun, Along the toilsome road, O'er roughest ways we walked with One, That One the Son of God. We thank Thee for that rest in Him The weary only know-- The perfect, wondrous sympathy We needs must learn below: The sweet companionship of One Who once the desert trod; The glorious fellowship with One Upon the throne of God; The joy no desolations here Can reach, or cloud, or dim-- The present Lord, the living God, And we alone with Him. We know Him as we could not know Through Heaven's golden years; We there shall see His glorious Face, But Mary saw His tears. The touch that heals the broken heart Is never felt above; His Angels know His blessedness, His way-worn saints His love. When in the glory and the rest We joyfully adore, Remembering the desert way We yet shall praise Him more. Remembering how, amidst our toil, Our conflict, and our sin, He brought the water for our thirst It cost His blood to win. And now in perfect peace we go Along the way He trod, Still learning from all need below Depths of the heart of God. P. B. MY WELCOME Luke xv. 20 In the distant land of famine, Craving with the swine to feed; Oh, how bitter that awakening To my sin, and shame, and need! Dark and dreary all around me, Now no more by sin beguiled; I would go and seek my Father, Be a bondsman, not a child. Yet a great way off He saw me, Ran to kiss me as I came; As I was my Father loved me, Loved me in my sin and shame. Then in bitter grief I told Him Of the evil I had done-- Sinned in scorn of Him, my Father, Was not meet to be His son. But I know not if He listened, For He spake not of my sin-- He within His house would have me, Make me meet to enter in; From the riches of His glory Brought His costliest raiment forth, Brought the ring that sealed His purpose, Shoes to tread His golden courts. Put them on me--robes of glory, Spotless as the heavens above; Not to meet my thoughts of fitness, But His wondrous thoughts of love. Then within His home He led me, Brought me where the feast was spread, Made me eat with Him, my Father, I, who begged for bondsman's bread! Not a suppliant at His gateway, But a son within His home; To the love, the joy, the singing, To the glory I am come. Gathered round that wondrous temple, Filled with awe His Angels see Glory lighting up the Holiest, In that glory Him and me. There He dwells, in me rejoicing Love resplendent in His Face-- There I dwell, in Him rejoicing, None but I can know His grace. To His blessed inner chamber, Ground no other foot can tread, He has brought the lost and found one, Him who liveth, and was dead. This the ransomed sinner's story, All the Father's heart made known-- All His grace to me the sinner, Told by judgment on His Son-- Told by Him from depths of anguish, All the Father's love for me, By the curse, the cross, the darkness, Measuring what that love must be. T. P. "IT IS FINISHED" I Cor. vi. 11. He found me the lost and the wandering, The sinful, the sad, and the lone; He said, "I have bought thee, beloved, For ever thou art Mine own. "O soul, I will show thee the wonder, The worth of My priceless Blood; Thou art whiter than snow on the mountains, Thou art fair in the eyes of God. "O vessel of living water, From the depths of the love divine, The glorious life within thee Flows from My heart to thine. "O soul altogether lovely, O pearl for which Christ was given, Wouldst thou know the joy and the glory That welcome thee into Heaven? "Wouldst thou know how near to the Father The place that is granted thee? Behold Me, O soul, in His bosom, And measure His love to Me. "Are the love, and the joy, and the glory More than My Blood could win? In the Name of the Son Beloved, Belov�d one, enter in." V. M. C. "BEYOND THE BRIGHTNESS OF THE SUN" Acts xxii. 11. I was journeying in the noontide, When His light shone o'er my road; And I saw Him in that glory-- Saw Him--Jesus, Son of God. All around, in noonday splendour, Earthly scenes lay fair and bright; But my eyes no more behold them For the glory of that light. Others in the summer sunshine Wearily may journey on, I have seen a light from heaven, Past the brightness of the sun-- Light that knows no cloud, no waning, Light wherein I see His Face, All His love's uncounted treasures, All the riches of His grace: All the wonders of His glory, Deeper wonders of His love-- How for me He won, He keepeth That high place in Heaven above; Not a glimpse--the veil uplifted-- But within the veil to dwell, Gazing on His Face for ever, Hearing wrods unspeakable. Marvel not that Christ in glory All my inmost heart hath won; Not a start to cheer my darkness, But a light beyond the sun. All below lies dark and shadowed, Nothing there to claim my heart, Save the lonely track of sorrow Where of old He walked apart. I have seen the Face of Jesus-- Tell me not of aught beside; I have heard the Voice of Jesus-- All my soul is satisfied. In the radiance of the glory First I saw His blessed Face, And for ever shall that glory Be my home, my dwelling-place. Sinners, it was not to Angels All this woundrous love was given, But to one who scorned, despised Him, Scorned and hated Christ in heaven. From the lowest depths of darkness To His city's radiant height, Thus in me He told the measure Of His love and His delight. T. P. EMMANUEL'S LAND Deut. viii. 7-10. The land! the glory of all lands, Beyond the Jordan's wave; Beyond the weary desert sands-- The land beyond the grave! Now safe witin that glorious land, We prove His faithful Word; 'Midst Canaan's golden fields we stand, The ransomed of the Lord. Amidst the burning desert drought We learnt His watchful love; Streams from the flinty rocks He brought, Sent bread from Heaven above. Our God in weariness and need, His love was measured there By hunger which His hand would feed, Wants answered by His care. Now know we in Emmanuel's land Immeasurable grace; No longer looking to His Hand, But gazing on His Face. Our need, ourselves, forgotten there, Himself our hearts adore; The fulness of His joy we share, His pleasures evermore: His joy fulfilled in us who tread That land His love has given; We followed where His footsteps led, And found ourselves in Heaven. No lower resting-place beseemed The well-beloved Son, And on our wondering eyes has beamed The glory that He won. No lower resting-place; and we-- Are we content to stand And look afar from Pisgah's heights Upon that goodly land? There, where the Shepherd goes before, The sheep must follow on: How green, how fresh the pastures fair Where Christ the Lord is gone! One spirit with our glorious Lord, Our joy to Him is sweet, As to His heart the love that poured The ointment on His feet. How dear to Him the fellowship That owned Him in the tomb-- How dear to Him the fellowship That shares His blessed Home! That shares in glory, far above The waste so dark and dim, The sweetness of the Father's love In unison with Him. In Him we tread those radiant heights, His endless joy our own; The full deep tide of God's delights He would not drink alone. P. G. THE BRIDE John xiv. 3. 'Midst the darkness, storm, and sorrow, One bright gleam I see; Well I know the blessed morrow Christ will come for me. 'Midst the light, and peace, and glory Of the Father's home, Christ for me is watching, waiting, Waiting till I come. Long the blessed Guide has led me By the desert road; Now I see the golden towers, City of my God. There, amidst the love and glory, He is waiting yet; On His hands a name is graven He can ne'er forget. There, amidst the songs of heaven, Sweeter to His ear Is the footfall through the desert, Ever drawing near. There, made ready are the mansions, Radiant, still, and fair; But the Bride the Father gave Him Yet is wanting there. Who is this who comes to meet me On the desert way, As the Morning Star foretelling God's unclouded day? He it is who came to win me On the Cross of shame; In His glory well I know Him Evermore the same. Oh the blessed joy of meeting, All the desert past! Oh the wondrous words of greeting He shall speak at last! He and I together entering Those fair courts above-- He and I together sharing All the Father's love. Where no shade nor stain can enter, Nor the gold be dim, In that holiness unsullied, I shall walk with Him. Meet companion then for Jesus, From Him, for Him, made-- Glory of God's grace for ever There in me displayed. He who in His hour of sorrow Bore the curse alone; I who through the lonely desert Trod where He had gone; He and I, in that bright glory, One deep joy shall share-- Mine, to be for ever with Him; His, that I am there. P. G. AMBASSADORS FOR CHRIST John xx. 21. "Who are these who come amongst us, Strangers to our speech and ways? Passing by our joys and treasures, Singing in the darkest days? Are they pilgrims journeying on From a land we have not known?" We are come from a far country, From a land beyond the sun; We are come from that geat glory Round our God's eternal throne: Thence we come, and thither go; Here no resting-place we know. Far within the depth of glory, In the Father's house above, We have learnt His wondrous secret, We have learnt His heart of love: We have seen and we have shared That bright joy He hath prepared. We have seen the golden city Shining as the jasper stone; Heard the song that fills the heavens Of the Man upon the throne; Well that glorious One we know-- He hath sent us here below. We have drunk the living waters,