Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 in 2014 
 
 https://archive.org/details/pilgriinsongsOOherz 
 
^3 '^e^rji^ <^\^ 
 
 Pilgrim Songs 
 
 BY 
 
 F. W. HERZBERGER, 
 
 Ev. LuTH. Pastor. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 1. Dedication. 
 
 2. Wooing Of The Pilgrim. 
 
 3. I Am Thy Pilgrim. 
 
 4. Pilgrim's Staff. 
 
 5. Pilgrim's Light. 
 
 6. Pilgrim's Dress. 
 
 7. Pilgrim's Crowns. 
 
 8. Weary Not. 
 
 9. Return To Me ! 
 
 10. Could I Forget. 
 
 11. Fear Not. 
 
 12. Ecce Homo. 
 
 13. Ever Nearer. 
 
 14. Prayer Before Reading The Scriptures. 
 
 15. Why Would You Weep. 
 
 16. Procrastination. 
 
 17. Christmas Hymn. 
 
 18. When Sball It Be. 
 
 19. Come Unto Me. 
 
 20. They Are Not Dead. , 
 
 21. Love's Prayer. 
 
 22. Trust In God. 
 
 23. Sylvester Eve. 
 
 24. Contentment. 
 
 25. Evening Song. 
 
 26. The Morning Star. 
 
 27. Weariness. 
 
 28. Easter Song. 
 
 29. To M. 
 
 30. Mystery Revealed. 
 
 31. Jerusalem, My Happy Home. 
 
 32. Christ On The Sea. 
 
 83. Ascension. 
 
 84. Resurrection. 
 
 35. Homeward Bound. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 Neither the love of lucre nor the iove of vain 
 glory have induced the author to pubhsh tins little 
 volume. He knows only too well that neither will 
 accrue to him by its publication. His reason for 
 presenting this little book to the public is his earnest 
 desire of giving in it a small token of deep and last- 
 ing gratitude to those dear friends whose names the 
 author has dared to mention on the preceding page. 
 
 Some, no doubt, will call the publication of the 
 book premature, when they see its meager contents. 
 To these the author would say, that through great 
 bodily affliction he has come to the belief that his 
 days are nearly numbered, and he therefore only the 
 more earnestly desired to know at least this farthing 
 of his great debt of gratitude paid, before the last 
 hour came. 
 
 If in God's great mercy this little volume becomes 
 the means of recalling one single sheep that has 
 strayed from the fold, if it serves to dry a single 
 tear, or calm the troubled heart of some grief-iaden 
 pilgrim, the author will have the inexpressible joy of 
 knowing that his little book has not been pubhshed 
 in vain. 
 
 F. W. H. 
 
 Chicago, 111., Sept. 17, 1888. 
 
* 
 
DEDICATION. 
 
 A pilgrim, who in foreign land 
 With weary heart must roam, 
 
 Will often take his harp to hand, 
 And fondly sing of home. 
 
 His home is e'er his soul's delight. 
 
 Wherever he may stroll ; 
 His burning songs by day, by night 
 
 Its praise with joy extoll. 
 
 I am Thy pilgrim, O my God, 
 This world is nought to me ; 
 
 But every day the path is trod 
 That leads me home to Thee. 
 
 O, can I help to sing Thy praise 
 
 While in this exile-land, 
 And honor with these simple lays 
 
 The mercies of Thy hand? 
 
 Accept Thou then my stammering 
 And let my lisping please. 
 
 At home my harp Thy praise shall sing 
 In fairer songs than these 1 
 
The Wooing of the Pilgrim. 
 
 O Jesus, dearest Jesus, 
 
 How shall my joyous soul, 
 Praise it however sweetly, 
 
 Thy wond'rous love extoll, 
 Thy love that placed the sinner 
 
 As Thy mo-,t cherished bride 
 In royal robes and honor. 
 
 At Thy exalted side. 
 
 O, what was there within me 
 
 To please Thine holy eye? 
 What shining garment clothed me 
 
 To draw Thee loving nigh? 
 What beauty, grace or riches 
 
 Could I account my own. 
 That Thou couldst find such pleasure 
 
 To make my heart Thy throne ? 
 
 All naked I was dying 
 
 In sin and greatest shame, 
 With filthy rags for raiment, 
 
 Unrighteousness for name ; 
 Cast out as unclean offal, 
 
 A wretched soul I lay 
 In blood, and wounds, and sorrow, 
 
 Foul Hell's desired prey. 
 
 10 
 
WOOING OF THE PILGRIM. 
 
 But though the earth and heavens 
 
 Loathed my vile company, 
 Yet Thou, the Lord of Glory, 
 
 Couldst not contented be 
 To leave me in my anguish. 
 
 To know in death my part ; 
 But long'dst to take the sinner 
 
 To Thy love-burning heart. 
 
 From Thy great throne of glory 
 
 And uncreated light 
 Thou cam'st into my bondage 
 
 And grieving sorrow's night. 
 Thou camest poor and lowly 
 
 To make me rich and great. 
 And took'st in loving kindness 
 
 On Thee my dreadful fate. 
 
 To win me robes of honor 
 
 Thou worest robes of shame, 
 That I might live in glory 
 
 Thou suffer'dst great defame. 
 And that the crown immortal, 
 
 Which all the blest adorns. 
 My guilty head might circle. 
 
 Thou worest crown of thorns. 
 
 Thou tookest on Thy shoulders 
 The burden of my guilt, 
 
 And on Thy stainless raiment 
 Thy precious blood was spilt. 
 11 
 
PILGRIM SONGS. 
 
 The wine-press of God's anger , 
 Alone by Thee was trod. 
 
 That Thou might'st save forever 
 Me from his angry rod. 
 
 But though Thy tears and prayers, 
 
 Thy suffering, death and grave 
 Redeemed him, who his Hfetime 
 
 Was Satan's trembling slave, 
 And though Thou stretchtest daily 
 
 Thy saving arms to me. 
 Yet, I in nameless folly 
 
 Thy loving heart could flee. 
 
 The ways of sin and sorrow 
 
 Were dearer to my feet, 
 Than all Thy ways of mercy 
 
 And grace and peace so sweet. 
 Aye, r.ither would I listen 
 
 Unto the Tempter's voice. 
 Than take Thy invitation 
 
 And in Thy love rejoice. 
 
 O, truly I had doubly 
 
 Deserved my dreadful fate; 
 Thou werest just in closing 
 
 On me Thy mercy's gate ; 
 Thou werest just in leaving 
 
 Me to my dreadful lot, 
 In passing the just judgment : 
 
 "Go hence! I know thee not." 
 
 12 
 
WOOING OF THE PILGRIM. 
 
 But though my heart rejected 
 
 The offerings of Thy peace, 
 Yet thou wouldst not reject me, 
 
 Yet Thou wouldst never cease 
 To follow ever loving 
 
 And wooing at my side, 
 Until at last Thou won'st me 
 
 And madest me Thy bride. 
 
 O, Love beyond extoling, 
 
 Beyond all depth and height, 
 O Love ! the song of angels. 
 
 Saved sinners' great delight. 
 If in the highest heavens 
 
 My raptured harp were strung, 
 Singing through endless ages — 
 
 Thy praise were left unsung ! 
 
 13 
 
I Am Thy Pilgrim. 
 
 I am Thy pilgrim, O my fathers' God, 
 
 And humbly pray, while wand'ring on the way, 
 That Thou wouldst lead me with Thy loving rod 
 
 And kindly lend me strength, that every day 
 My path to Thee in truest faith be trod; 
 
 And though my heart in weakness often stray, 
 Yet do Thou grant me on my pilgrimage 
 
 The needed help to reach my heritage. 
 
 O, give me strength to flee the Tempter's voice 
 
 And never his desiring to fulfill ; 
 Make Thou the narrow path my daily choice, 
 
 And all my heart with fervent love instill 
 For Thee, that I may evermore rejoice 
 
 To daily do Thy good and holy will. 
 O, let me keep my portion undefiled 
 
 And ever prove myself Thy Spirit's child. 
 
 And when at last I hear the curfew toll 
 
 And know my weary pilgrim-days are by, 
 When my dim eyes see Jordan's waters roll 
 
 And for Thy face in anxious longing sigh — 
 O, then, my God, uphold my fearing soul 
 
 And to Thy bosom draw me loving nigh; 
 Then open unto me fair Eden's door 
 
 And let me live with Thee forevermore. 
 
Pilgrim's Staff. 
 
 O Thou, who on the crosses-tree 
 Didst die a shameful death for me, 
 
 O dearest Savior Thou — 
 
 I know Thy cross is fooHshness 
 
 To all who in their righteousness 
 And haughty merit trow. 
 
 But Lord, to me, a sinner great, 
 Who in his first sin's dreadful state 
 
 Could neither do nor will 
 
 A single work his God to please, 
 
 Or his just anger to appease; 
 To me, a sinner still. 
 
 Thy holy, blood-stained cross shall be 
 The blessed wood that makes me free 
 
 From that dread serpent's bite; 
 Its ble.-sed fruit shall be the meat 
 
 Of which my dying soul shail eat 
 And live in great delight. 
 
 And while through ever waning years, 
 My weary feet, in many fears. 
 
 Life's rugged road must wend, 
 
 'i hy cross shall be my pilgrim-staff 
 
 On which my soul its hope shall graff 
 To reach its journeys end. 
 
PILGRIM SONGS. 
 
 O, with this blessed staff in hand 
 I'll wander to the promised land 
 
 And fear no depth nor height; 
 For though the way oft thorny be, 
 
 This blessed staff shall comfort me 
 And make my jom^ney Hght. 
 
 When I grow thirsty on the road 
 And falter 'neath my heavy load, 
 
 This staff shall be the rod 
 With which from her Salvation's Rock 
 
 My soul refreshing springs shall knock 
 And see her glorious God. 
 
 Let Mara's waters bitter be, 
 
 My eyes no help nor comfort see 
 
 And weep in great distress, 
 
 Thy cross shall be the blessed wood 
 
 That with Thy blood's most precious flood 
 Sweetens all bitterness. 
 
 And when, at last, with weary feet 
 The stormy waves of death I meet 
 
 And hear the enemy. 
 
 Then shall thy cross as Moses' rod 
 
 The surging floods part wide abroad 
 And bring me safe to Thee. 
 
 16 
 
The Pilgrim's Light. 
 
 Surrounded by sin's dismal night, 
 
 A pilgrim I must roam. 
 O what shall be my guiding light 
 To lead my erring feet aright 
 
 The path to my blest home? 
 
 There is no other light than Thine, 
 
 O Jesus, dearest Lord! 
 That sacred lamp, Thy truth divine. 
 Whose gloom-dispelling beams still shine 
 
 Forth from Thy holy Word. 
 
 Thy Word alone has oped my eyes 
 
 To see the areadful state 
 In which all human nature lies — 
 'Tis endless night that never cies. 
 
 With endless death its fate. 
 
 Thy Word alone has sped its ray 
 
 Into my blind-born heart. 
 Has driven sin's dark night away 
 And brought me in the glorious day 
 
 Of which the sun Thou art. 
 
 17 
 
jplLGRIM SONGS. 
 
 Thy Word alone has kindled in 
 
 My heart faith's holy llame, 
 In it my dying soul does win 
 Against the bleeding wounds of sin 
 
 Sure healing from Thy name. 
 
 Thy Word alone grants me faith's fruit, 
 
 Sweet charity's fair flower, 
 E'er in Thy loving heart to root, 
 Its gladdening blossoms thence to shoot 
 
 'Round my heart's stony tower. 
 
 Thy Word alone lights up in me 
 
 Hope's radiant, shining star, 
 Whose blessed rays teach me to see 
 Above this tear-stained Calvary 
 The pearly gates ajar. 
 
 While I must wander in the night, 
 
 Thy Word, O Lord, shall be 
 My soul's inspiring, guiding light. 
 Making my path most fair and bright 
 That leads me home to Thee. 
 
 IS 
 
The Pilgrim's Dress. 
 
 As long as I wander o'er life's stormy lea 
 Without and within me no beauty I see; 
 My sad, flowing tears ever daily confess : 
 In me they see nothing but sin's shame/ul dress. 
 
 In Thee, O my Savior, in thy purple blood, 
 In which I was clad in the baptismal flood, 
 My soul has a garment more glorious far 
 Than the glittering dress of day's brightest star. 
 
 Though without no beauty this fair dress unfolds, 
 Still the eye of my God its splendor beholds; 
 My sins, without number, their deep, crimson glow, 
 In this purple dress glisten whiter than snow. 
 
 This dress shall enrobe me while journeying here, 
 And in it no dangcT nor tempest I'll fear, 
 From the heat of the desert, the rocks of the way 
 This dress shall protect me, by night and by day. 
 
 This dress shall not molder nor ever wax old, 
 But as, of the wandering Jews we are told. 
 How their garments outlasted the season of time, 
 No seasons shall injure this fair dress of mine. 
 
 This dress will I take as my last winding sheet, 
 In its beauty my Savior in heaven to meet, 
 And there shall I, shining in this precious stole, 
 My Savior's great glory forever extol. 
 
 19 
 
The Pilgrim's Crowns. 
 
 For every pilgrim of our God 
 Two crowns are made to wear : 
 
 The one while here his way is trod, 
 And one in Heaven fair. 
 
 The first is wrought of sorrow's thorns, 
 
 Its jewels are the tears 
 Wept by a heart that sadly mourns 
 
 In faith's repenting fears. 
 
 And 'round it runs this tristful rhyme : 
 Through tribulations great 
 
 Alone God's child the road may climb 
 That leads to Heaven's gate. 
 
 Ah, 'tis a crown the world does scorn 
 And hold in greatest shame, 
 
 And he, by whom this crown is worn. 
 Must suffer great defame. 
 
 But he who wears the precious seal 
 
 Of Christ upon his brow, 
 Shrinks not his Savior's thorns to feel 
 
 Nor 'neath his cross to bow. 
 
 He cannot, when his Master wore 
 A bleeding crown on earth. 
 
 The glittering crown of Baal adore 
 And quaff his cup of mirth. 
 
 20 
 
THE pilgrim's CROWNS. 
 
 No; he will take the thorny wreath 
 
 And kiss the loving hands, 
 That with it all the grace bequeath 
 
 That broke death's iron bands. 
 
 To him It is a gracious sign 
 
 Of his Redeemer's love, 
 And in its thorns his eyes divine 
 
 The beauteous crown above. 
 
 Ah, 'tis a crown his singing tongue 
 Shall greet in sweetest hymn. 
 
 And see his prayers as rubies strung 
 Around its sheeny rim. 
 
 A crown, wherein his tearful sighs 
 
 Are laid as precious gold — 
 A crown ! its glory never dies, 
 
 Its joys are never told. 
 
 On it his raptured eyes shall read 
 The sentence fair and clear : 
 
 "All they that weeping sowed their seed 
 Shall reap in glory here. " 
 
 21 
 
Weary Not. 
 
 Weary not, weary not, 
 
 Little Pilgrim-band, 
 Though the desert sun be hot 
 And thy way with care be fraught 
 
 To the promised land. 
 
 Not alone, not alone 
 
 Do you wander here, 
 He, who from the fiery throne 
 Of the cloud on Juda shone. 
 
 Evermore is near. 
 
 He will lead. He will lead 
 
 Now as then the way, 
 With his manna He will feed 
 Hungry hearts and every need, 
 
 Every want alay. 
 
 In the dearth, in the dearth 
 Living wells shall spring 
 From his hand in gleeful mirth, 
 Lift the dying from the earth 
 To Him, their living King. 
 
 Onward still, onward still. 
 
 Then, thou Uttle band. 
 For it is the Father's will 
 His great promise to fulfill : 
 
 To bring you to His land. 
 
 32 
 
Return To Me. 
 
 (Jeremiah 8, 12.) 
 
 Return to me, my Children, O return ! 
 Why will you follow in destruction's path 
 And chose for life the everlasting wrath 
 That in the deepest deep of Hell doth burn? 
 What have I done that you so coldly spurn 
 My love that bare you with such bitter tears, 
 That suffered your despise these many years, 
 Yet doth to-day with eager longing turn 
 To you and weeping pray : Return ! Return 1 
 
 Return to me — O do not trust the sprites 
 That lure you wily on to dreary wastes. 
 Where tears for joy and death for life he tastes, 
 Who follows, fondly hoping sweet delights. 
 O, how your danger all my soul affrights, 
 And how I tremble, lest you too be lost, 
 My children, O my children, who have cost 
 Me more than mothers anxious days and nights 
 Filled with sad tears and burning prayer's flights. 
 
 23 
 
PILGRIM SONGS. 
 
 "nrn to me, O why, why will you die 
 III your trangressions and their damning guilt. 
 When I redeemed you with the blood I spilt 
 Upon the cross, with many a bitter sigh. 
 O, harden not your hearts against my cry 
 That c^lls you back into my longing arms 
 To keep you safe from sin's death-dealing harms, 
 And make you strong all danger to defy 
 That 'round the narrow path to heaven lie. 
 
 Return to me ! O, think me not a stern, 
 
 A heartless ju ge that doth not mercy know. 
 
 Did I not to the dying thief it show 
 
 Ano from his soul the fearful judgment turn? 
 
 Thus doih my love incessant for you burn, 
 
 And sti 1 to-day my arms are opened wide 
 
 To take you, lost and straying, to my side; 
 
 And though my love for you you oft did spurn, 
 
 I will forgive, forget it all : — Return. 
 
 24 
 
Could I Forget. 
 
 Could I forget Thee, Holy Love, 
 Forget to seek my Home above, 
 Forget to be Thy faithful child, 
 To live beneath Thy yoke so mild? 
 
 Could I forget Thy loving voice 
 That makes Thy children's heart rej oice. 
 And to the Tempter lend my heart 
 And from Thy righteous path depart? 
 
 Could I forget Thy thorn-crowned head, 
 Thy heart that for the sinner bled, 
 Thy hands that on the crosses-tree 
 Stretched out in dying love for me? 
 
 Could I forget the tender care 
 That day and night sought everywhere 
 The sheep, that wandered in distress 
 Through this world's sinful wilderness? 
 
 Could I forget the happy days. 
 When Thy sweet eyes their loving rays 
 Shed o'er me, and in greatest bHss 
 My soul received Thy bridal-kiss? 
 
 Forgive, O Lord, my shameful fall ; 
 I hear Thy loving shepherd-call 
 O, light on me Thy loving face 
 And take me back into Thy grace. 
 
 25 
 
"Fear Not, Only Believe". 
 
 (Mark 5, 39.) 
 
 Fear not your sins' great number, 
 
 Nor let their heavy load 
 Your grieving heart encumber, 
 
 But in Christ's hands furrowed 
 Behold your sure salvation, 
 
 He will your soul relieve 
 From sin's great condemnation : 
 
 Fear not, only believe. 
 
 Fear not the grave's dark portal ; 
 
 Fear not Death's icy hand ; 
 For Christ reigns God immortal 
 
 In Death's sepulchral land. 
 Who are His body's members 
 
 In death He will not leave, 
 But wake the lifeless embers : 
 
 Fear not, only believe. 
 
 Fear not hell's wily power, 
 
 The fiery arrow's flight, 
 Let Christ be your strong tower. 
 
 Stand boldly in the fight. 
 You will not be forsaken. 
 
 When but to Christ you cleave. 
 He hell hath captive taken : 
 
 Fear not, only beHeve. 
 
 36 
 
FEAR NOT, ONLY BELIEVE. 
 
 Fear not your heart displaying 
 
 The future sin-fraught wave, 
 It is a faithful saying: 
 
 Christ came sinners to save. 
 His is a faithful caUing, 
 
 He will your soul retrieve 
 From all peril befalling : 
 
 Fear not, only believe. 
 
 27 
 
EccE Homo. 
 
 Know'st thou the man 
 
 Hanging on yonder cross? 
 Know'st thou the head 
 
 Those cruel thorns emboss? 
 Know'st thou that Lamb 
 
 Slain by Jehovah's rod? 
 
 O Soul— it is thy God! 
 
 Know'st thou the cause 
 
 That hanged thy Maker there? 
 Know'st thou the nails 
 
 That pierce those hands so fair? 
 Know'st thou the scourge 
 
 That bruised the holy skin? 
 
 O soul — it was thy sin ! 
 
 Know'st thou the fruit 
 
 Of all this bitter pain ? 
 Know'st thou the prize 
 
 Thy dying Lord would gain? 
 Knowst thou the crown 
 
 He wins in this sad strife ? 
 
 O Soul — it is thy life 1 
 
 Shall then, O Soul, 
 
 Thy Saviour bleed in vain? 
 Wilt thou then hold 
 
 His dying in disdain? 
 O no, my Soul, 
 
 His mighty love adore — 
 
 Repent, believe and sin no more. 
 
Ever Nearer. 
 
 Ever nearer, ever nearer 
 
 Draw me, dearest Lord, to Thee. 
 Ever dearer, ever dearer, 
 
 Make Thy holy name for me. 
 O, I long to be Thine wholly, 
 
 Thine alone, as Thou art mine, 
 And to praise and love Thee solely 
 
 And my all to Thee resign. 
 
 But alas, while time is fleeing 
 
 To eternity's far shore. 
 And my eyes are daily seeing 
 
 Opened wide the grave's dark door, 
 I must make the sad confession : 
 
 My love is not undefiled, 
 Still my way is in transgression. 
 
 Still I am not all Thy child. 
 
 For the world and her vain pleasures 
 
 Cause me often to forget 
 Thee, O Lord, and at Thy measures 
 
 This my heart will often fret ; 
 Often listen to the Tempter 
 
 Rather do his sinful will, 
 Than in love, O my Redemptor, 
 
 Thy commandments to fulfill. 
 
PILGRIM SONGS. 
 
 O forgive, forgive my failing, 
 
 Calm, OLord, my troubled heart, 
 To its weakness, to its ailing, 
 
 Cheerful love and trust impart : 
 For I long to be Thine wholly. 
 
 Thine alone, as Thou art mine. 
 And to praise and love Thee solely 
 
 And my all to Thee resign. 
 
Prayer Before Reading The Scriptures. 
 
 0 Holy Spirit, Truth Divine, 
 
 1 now draw near Thy sacred shrine 
 To seek for pearls of heavenly lore, 
 That bless the soul forevermore. 
 
 But ah, with mine own sin-bound eyes 
 I nevermore can find the prize; 
 I pray Thee, lift the dark'ning veil 
 That sight and hearing may not fail. 
 
 O shed on me Thy holy light, 
 That I may read Thy word aright ; 
 In mercy from my soul keep out 
 All unbelief, all sinful doubt. 
 
 Awake in me faith's morning-star 
 And break down every hindering bar. 
 And through Thy guidance let me see 
 My Jesus with his love for me. 
 
 Against Hell's ever raging hord 
 Let Thy word be my trusty sword, 
 And through it teach my soul to win 
 The fight with Satan, World and Sin, 
 
 In tribulation's tearful night 
 Let Thy word be my shining light, 
 And when death's parting hour has come 
 Thro' Thy word lead me safely home. 
 
 31 
 
Why Would You Weep? 
 
 Why would you weep, my loved ones, 
 
 For weary hearts at rest? 
 Death's angel has not harmed them. 
 
 But, at his Lord's behest, 
 With loving voice he gathered 
 
 Them in his silent fold. 
 Where they secure may slumber, 
 
 Until time's sands are told. 
 
 O, would you weep in sorrow. 
 
 If, after they had wrought 
 All day their weary labor, 
 
 Refreshing sleep they sought? 
 Or would your tears be flowing, 
 
 If, after they had made 
 Their sorrow-laden journey. 
 
 They sought the cooling shade? 
 
 Or do you cry in anguish, 
 
 If from the stormy sea 
 The mariners to harbor 
 
 With their frail vessels flee? 
 Or do you hear sad mourning. 
 
 If from the bloody war 
 The conqueror is returning 
 
 On his triumphal-car? 
 
WHY WOULD YOU WEEP? 
 
 Why then beweep those dear ones? 
 
 Their weary work is o'er ; 
 Past is their stormy voyage, 
 
 Their bark is on the shore, 
 Their feet no longer wander 
 
 The thorny path of Ufe ; 
 And they the foe have conquered 
 
 In faith's triumphant strife. 
 
 SI 
 
Procrastination. 
 
 "To-morrow," he said, 
 "When I cease to run 
 
 For the prize I seek 
 And the goal is won, 
 
 When my soul has quaffed 
 The depths of mirth 
 
 And all her desires 
 Have died in dearth, 
 
 When life's bright stars 
 No longing awake — 
 
 To-morrow my peace 
 With my God I'll make. " 
 
 To-morrow came — 
 The bright sun shone 
 
 On earth and her children 
 And their fates unknown. 
 
 It shone on their pleasures 
 And Toil's deaf 'ning din. 
 
 It shone on their sorrow, 
 It shone on their sin; 
 
 It shone on a grave 
 Just newly made, 
 
 Where he so sudden 
 By others was laid. 
 
 To-morrow had come 
 With its terrible fate : 
 
 For his peace with God 
 He was too late. 
 
 34 
 
Christmas Hymn. 
 
 Hark! what mean those angel voices? 
 
 Singing sweetly in the night, 
 At their song all Heaven rejoices 
 
 And is seized with strange delight. 
 
 Hark ! they sing of what the olden 
 Seer's harps have longing sang, 
 
 And their message is the golden 
 Promise which through ages rang, 
 
 Of Immanuel's salvation, 
 
 Virgin's Son and mighty God, 
 
 To redeem man's fallen nation 
 From the dread oppressor's rod. 
 
 And the angels shout the story 
 
 In this happy, holy morn : 
 "Good will to man, to God be glory 
 
 Christ the Savior now is born. " 
 
 Whence the wrath of God had driven 
 Sinning man with flaming sword. 
 
 This to-day is freely given 
 
 Man again in Christ the Lord. 
 
 Open is again the portal 
 
 Of lost Eden, and above 
 Flaming stands the welcome : Mortal, 
 
 Enter, enter, God is Love ! 
 
 35 
 
When Shall It Be. 
 
 When shall it be, my God, my Hope, my Love, 
 
 That I shall hear Thy call 
 To live with Thee in Thy bright home above 
 
 And quit this weeping thrall? 
 My weary soul is praying 
 
 For that blest unity, 
 And evermore is saying: 
 
 O, when, when shall it be? 
 
 When shall it be, that I shall see Thy face 
 
 Shining in Heaven's dome, 
 In rapturous song extol Thy saving grace 
 
 That brought Thy pilgrim home? 
 O, while faith's bark is sailing, 
 
 On life's storm-tossing sea. 
 My heart repeats unfailing : 
 
 O when, when shall it be? 
 
 When shall it be, that I shall know Thy rest. 
 
 And from the battle's din 
 Be free to sing with thy rejoicing Blest 
 
 The wondrous bridal hymn? 
 O, while their harps are calling 
 
 Thrice "Holy", Tord, to Thee, 
 My longing tears are falling 
 
 And ask: "When shall it be?" 
 
Come Unto Me, Ye Weary! 
 
 Come unto me, ye weary, 
 
 And I will give you rest, 
 Your hearts however dreary 
 
 In me they shall be blest. 
 Thus He is ever calUng 
 
 Who knows each grieving harm. 
 And from all woe enthralling 
 
 Would help with his great arm. 
 
 No tempest roars so madly 
 
 His power cannot calm, 
 No wound can hurt so badly 
 
 For which He has no balm, 
 For eyes in sorrow weeping. 
 
 For hearts bowed down with grief 
 He has some salve in keeping, 
 
 Some comfort, some relief. 
 
 The sea around us flowing, 
 
 And earth's bread-giving land, 
 The stars in heaven glowing, 
 
 Are by His mighty hand. 
 The sun obeys His power 
 
 And daily runs his race. 
 His clouds on us must shower 
 
 The bounties of His grace. 
 
 37 
 
PILGRIM SONGS, 
 
 The ear is by His working, 
 
 And He has made the eye — 
 Should He not see grief's lurking 
 
 And hear its plaintive cry? 
 Has He not as a token 
 
 Of His great love to men 
 In death His great heart broken, 
 
 Why should we fear Him then? 
 
 Then listen to His calling 
 
 Ye wanderers to the grave ! 
 If you are daily falling. 
 
 His love will daily save; 
 If you are daily staining 
 
 With crimson guilt your dress, 
 In Him free grace is reigning 
 
 And perfect righteousness. 
 
 Ye poor, ye sick, ye dying, 
 
 Travailing in great fear, 
 To you His voice is crying, 
 
 O, trustfully draw near 
 To him who loving calls you 
 
 Unto His Savior's breast. 
 And evermore will give you 
 
 Life, comfort, hope and rest. 
 
 O grant us, dearest Jesus, 
 To hear Thy gospel call. 
 
 In mercy do Thou lead us, 
 That in our grieving all 
 
 38 
 
COME UNTO ME, YE WEARY. 
 
 We strength may never borrow 
 From man's infirmity, 
 
 But in all care and sorrow 
 May ever come to Thee. 
 
"They are not Dead, but Sleeping." 
 
 (John 11, 11-13.) 
 
 They are not dead, but sleeping, 
 
 The loved for which we mourn, 
 Resting in God's strong keeping. 
 
 No longer trouble-worn. 
 Why then should we keep weeping. 
 
 As though from us they're torn ? 
 They are not dead, but sleeping. 
 
 The loved for which we mourn. 
 Soon shall we hear their greeting 
 
 On Jesus' bridal-morn, 
 And see in that fond meeting 
 
 What hath our hearts upborn : 
 They are not dead, but sleeping, 
 
 The loved for which we mourn. 
 
 40 
 
Love's Prayer. 
 
 O, could I love Thee more, Thou Love Divine, 
 And make Thy cross forever unto me 
 (As ivy does the storm-defying tree) 
 
 A sheltering slay for faith's help-seeking vine. 
 
 O, could my heart on Thy dear heart rechne, 
 In life's fierce tempest firmly cUng to Thee, 
 And never break our blessed unity, 
 
 Nor for earth's fleeting vanities repine! 
 
 Alas, each day, each fleeting hour but proves 
 My fickle heart too easily can stray 
 From Thee whom all the angels loud adore ; 
 
 But yet I know Thy heart in pity moves 
 
 For me and my distress. Then will I pray : 
 "Lord, give me strength to love Thee, love Thee 
 more ! " 
 
 41 
 
Trust In God. 
 
 O, rest thee, rest thee, anxious heart, 
 Thy Jesus knows thy woe, 
 
 And surely will to thee impart 
 What thou nead'st here below. 
 
 Does he not hear the raven's cry 
 
 And all its hunger still. 
 Should He then pass thee only by 
 
 And not thy wants fulfil? 
 
 Does not His hands the lillies dress 
 
 That grow upon the field. 
 Should He then be so merciless 
 
 And thee no raiment yield ? 
 
 His love for every beast has made 
 
 A home wherein to live, 
 Why should His mercy thee evade, 
 
 And thee no shelter give ? 
 
 Has He not won thy soul from death 
 And from the curse of sin, 
 
 That thou upon thy dying breath 
 A heavenly crown might'st win ? 
 
 42 
 
TRUST IN GOD. 
 
 Is not His blood the earnest great 
 
 Of His strong love for thee, 
 That thou, however dark thy fate, 
 
 His child might'st ever be ? 
 
 Oh, then, unto the Lord thy cares 
 
 Commit, my anxious heart : 
 " From thee, " in His great love He swears, 
 
 "I never will depart." 
 
 43 
 
Sylvester Eve. 
 
 While the year is dying fast 
 And the present and the past 
 
 Meet and part forevermore, 
 Lord, upon our bended knee 
 Do we raise our voice to Thee 
 
 And Thy saving grace implore. 
 
 We are wanderers to the tomb, 
 Dust to dust is e'er our doom. 
 
 Vanity is e'er our way, 
 The achievement of our hand, 
 All the works our hearts have planned— 
 
 As their masters must decay. 
 
 Thou art God and Thou alone — 
 In the Heavens is thy throne, 
 
 Founded from eternity. 
 With Thee is no change of light, 
 But the morning, noon, and night 
 
 One eternal day must be. 
 
 As lliou art, thus is Thy grace 
 Everlasting, e'er their race 
 
 Could the fleeting years begin. 
 Still to-day Thy grace will save 
 Contrite hearts that mercy crave 
 
 From Thee for their crimson sin. 
 
 44 
 
SYLVESTER EVE. 
 
 Then, our God, reward us not 
 After our great sins, but blot 
 
 Out our great iniquity 
 With our blessed Redeemer's blood. 
 Save us by that precious flood 
 
 In this hour, we ask of Thee. 
 
 Heal, o Lord, all our disease, 
 All our wounds and sorrows ease, 
 
 Lift up 'every drooping heart. 
 From the narrow path of life 
 In this world's tumult and strife 
 
 Let Thy children ne'er depart. 
 
 So when in that midnight hour 
 Thy fierce flames the world devour 
 
 And the skies to ashes roll, 
 Then our lamps be burning bright, 
 And we welcome with delight 
 
 Thee, the bridegroom of our soul. 
 
Contentment. 
 
 O tell me not of earthly things, 
 
 Of earthly goods and gold. 
 No comfort their possession brings 
 
 When dying hearts grow cold. 
 If I but have that precious sum 
 
 My Jesus paid for me, 
 I'll leave the world her glittering scum 
 
 And all-contented be. 
 
 O tell me not of earthly fame 
 
 And glory's shining star, 
 An empty dream is Honor's name. 
 
 More glorious 'tis by far 
 To know yourjname engraven deep 
 
 Upon your Savior's heart, 
 For He will to his faithful sheep 
 
 Undying fame impart. 
 
 O tell me not of earthly joy, 
 
 Its laughter-flowing bowl 
 Is mixed with sorrow and annoy 
 
 And sinful pleasures foul. 
 If I can feast at Jesus' breast 
 
 And e'er rejoice in Him, 
 My soul will find forever blest 
 
 Joy's cup filled to the brim. 
 
eONTENTMEN'i'. 
 
 O tell me not of earthly love — 
 
 Death swiftly breaks its bands. 
 If I can have that Love above 
 
 And rest in its strong hands, 
 Then I have more than all the world 
 
 And all its love can give, 
 For when Death's banners arc unfurled, 
 
 Through Jesus' love I live. 
 
 47 
 
Evening Song. 
 
 The day is done, the last bright glow 
 Of sinking sun dies in the West. 
 
 The sombre shadows darker grow, 
 And fill the earth with welcome rest. 
 
 The sprightly songsters of the day 
 Unto their peaceful bowers hie, 
 
 Their friends, the blooming flowers gay, 
 On nature's breast a-dreaming lie. 
 
 The evening winds in voices soft 
 
 Their vespers breathe among the pines, 
 
 And from her tranquil azure-loft 
 The moon in silent splendor shines. 
 
 And I — I bow my head and pray : 
 O dearest Lord, when life must cease 
 
 In me as in this dying day. 
 
 Then give me, give me. Lord, Thy peace. 
 
 48 
 
The Morning Star. 
 
 O wond'rous star, herald of golden morn, 
 Streaming thy beauty on the tranquil night, 
 
 With holy awe my heart fills at thy sight. 
 
 And sacred thoughts within my heart are bom. 
 
 Thou art a type of that more wond'rous star 
 Shining so bright o'er Juda's sleeping vale, 
 
 Whose beams the Magi joyously did hail 
 
 That sought the Child from Eastern countries far. 
 
 Through its bright beams they found it and did give 
 The Child their gold, their frankincense and myrrh, 
 And homeward turned with richer treasures blest. 
 
 That wond'rous star will never cease to live, 
 
 But ever seeking hearts to praising stir. 
 That wond'rous Word of Christ to all addressed. 
 
 49 
 
Weariness. 
 
 My soul is a-weary, 
 
 Ah, were I at rest 
 From life's way so dreary, 
 
 Asleep with the blest; 
 
 Asleep on the pillows 
 My Savior prepares 
 
 'Gainst life's stormy billows, 
 Its sorrows and cares. 
 
 O, could I but slumber 
 Upon His strong arm, 
 
 And there no more number 
 Sad tears of alarm. 
 
 My sorrow were ended, 
 My weeping were done, 
 
 With joy^ever blended 
 True peace had begun. 
 
 O Jesus, I pray Thee, 
 In Thy divine love 
 
 Come quickly and take me 
 To Thy rest above. 
 
 50 
 
Easter. 
 
 Christ is risen ! Christ is risen ! 
 
 Angels in their sheeny stoles 
 Preach it in the opened prison 
 
 Of the grave to fearing souls. 
 
 Christ is risen! O, the joy 
 Of the blessed Easter news 
 
 Does in him all fear destroy 
 
 Who its quickening power proves. 
 
 He no longer to the grave 
 
 Wanders forth in trembling awe, 
 
 From its terror him to save, 
 
 Christ, His King, its terror saw. 
 
 He lay in the rocky shrine 
 
 And dispelled its gloomy night, 
 
 Who to him their souls resign, 
 In Him rise to heavenly light. 
 
 Clad in immortality 
 
 On their dying couch they sing : 
 "Hell, where is thy victory, 
 
 Where, o Death, is now thy sting? " 
 
 51 
 
To M' 
 
 O, thou of little faith, what dost thou feaj: ? 
 Is riot the Master with his strong arm near, 
 Thy "Save me. Lord," with speedy help to hear? 
 
 If from beneath thy feet all firmness flies, 
 And mighty winds and waves around thee rise, 
 On Him, that called thee, fix alone thine eyes ! 
 
 Thou raayest sink, but surely never drown, 
 Into the deepest grave He will reach down 
 And lift thee up to thy appointed crown. 
 
 If thou hadst faith as small as mustard-seed, 
 Thou couldst remove the mountains and the speed 
 Of furious tempest check with frailest weed. 
 
 Then thy belief, from all mistrusting free, 
 Lay hold on Christ, for He lays hold on thee, 
 And at His side thou safely walkst the sea. 
 
The Mystery Revealed. 
 
 Whence ometh man, what is his pnq-^ose here, 
 His life, his death? ^'O, must he ever fail 
 To find the truth and count his life a tale 
 
 Soon told, an idle song or bitter tear, 
 
 And death the ending of his dark career? 
 Dare mortal never lift the awful veil 
 And present's, past's, and future's secret tale 
 
 Tell to a dying world's truth-longing ear? 
 
 No heart's blood yet this secret's truth has bought, 
 
 No human wisdom has this veil unfurled. 
 No Alexander cleaves this Gordian knot, 
 
 And yet the myst'ries meshes are untwirled — 
 
 The Son of God the answer long has brought 
 And in His word revealed it to the world. 
 
Jerusalem, My Blessed Home. 
 
 Jerusalem, my blessed home, 
 
 Fair city of my God, 
 O, how I long thy streets to roam 
 
 And sing thy praise abroad. 
 
 O, could I see thy shining courts, 
 Thy jeweled gates of light, 
 
 The boundless glory that transports 
 Thy blest with rapt deUght. 
 
 O, who can tell the endless joy 
 That lives within thy walls. 
 
 The blessed spirits' sweet employ 
 That sing about thy halls? 
 
 No violence in thee is heard, 
 
 But all thy happy states 
 Around their loins salvation gird 
 
 And praise within thy gates. 
 
 In thee travailing toil is o'er, 
 Nor doubt, nor restless fear 
 
 In thee the soul can pain no more 
 Nor cause a single tear. 
 
 54 
 
JERUSALEM, MY BLESSED HOME. 
 
 In thee the dreaded Tempter's sight 
 Fills no more with dismay, 
 
 And guilty sin's oppressing night 
 Has ever fled away. 
 
 No anguish, sorrow, weakness, pain. 
 No sickness they do know 
 
 Who in thy happy borders reign, 
 Where ceaseless pleasures glow. 
 
 Their Savior's mercy is the theme 
 Of their enraptured song, 
 
 And drinking of Life's rolling stream 
 His glory they prolong. 
 
 Jerusalem, my blessed home, 
 O, when, when shall it be, 
 
 That I thy happy streets may roam 
 And sing and praise in thee. 
 
 55 
 
Christ on the Sea. 
 
 FMatthew 14, 24-27.] 
 
 I. 
 
 The night lay brooding over earth and sea, 
 Hushing to sleep the noisy voice of day, 
 But in frail bark the Twelve a- watching lay 
 
 Tossed by the angry waves of Galilee. 
 
 With wond'ring fear they question, whether He 
 Who fed the thousands and remained to pray 
 On silent hill-top far from them away 
 
 His people's long-expected Help could be. 
 
 And with their bark their hope now rose, now fell, 
 
 When lo ! upon the sea a form appears — 
 An evil spirit — as for fear they cry. 
 
 But who their joy that filled their hearts can tell, 
 
 As from the gloom the Master's voice their ears 
 Greets with the words : " Be not afraid, 'tis I. " 
 
 II. 
 
 If on the sea of duty, o my child. 
 
 On which thy God has bidden thee to sail. 
 The night of sorrow throws its gloomy veil 
 
 And hides the stars that have so oft beguiled 
 
CHRIST ON THE SEA. 
 
 Thy weary voyage with their ghmmering mild ; 
 If waves beat wild against thy bark so frail, 
 Causing thy heart before their wrath to quail, 
 
 And storm on storm upon thy course is piled — 
 
 Then wilt thou often question in thy faith, 
 If He, in whom alone thy way is made, 
 Will prove Himself the Christ also with thee. 
 
 Mayhap thy eyes some sudden, fearful wraith 
 Trembling behold — but be thou not afraid, 
 It is the Master walking on the sea. 
 
 87 
 
Ascension. 
 
 Why gaze ye up to heaven, 
 
 Ye men of Galilee? 
 Why are your hearts so troubled? 
 
 What is it you would see? 
 Though yon black cloud has taken 
 
 Your Jesus from your view, 
 His mighty love and promise 
 
 Does still abide with you. 
 
 As you have seen your Jesus 
 
 Ascending to the sky. 
 Thus shall you see Him coming 
 
 In glory from on high; 
 Surrounded by His angels 
 
 He to his side will call 
 His faithful vineyard servants, 
 
 And reign God all in all. 
 
 Go then, and preach the gospel, 
 
 And baptize in His name 
 The world for whose salvation 
 
 Into this flesh He came. 
 Go, mailed in armor stronger 
 
 Than Damask-tempered steel. 
 The power of the Spirit 
 
 In you the world shall feel. 
 
ASCENSION. 
 
 Lo ! at your wond'rous story 
 
 The night shall turn to day, 
 The reign of sin's dread master 
 
 Shall quickly pass away, 
 And 'round the Cross's standard 
 
 The sons of man shall meet 
 To hearken to its teachings 
 
 And worship at its feet. 
 
 Go then upon your errand 
 
 Of saving grace and peace. 
 And through your faithful labor 
 
 Your Master's house increase, 
 Until the happy tidings 
 
 Through all the nations roll, 
 And Jesus' name and honor 
 
 Resound from pole to pole. 
 
 59 
 
Resurrection. 
 
 Must not the seed under the sod be plowed, 
 Must it not He from life and light away 
 And ever seem the King of Terror's prey, 
 
 Enveloped in corruption's sable shroud ; 
 
 Must not white-robed ghosts of winter crowd 
 Eagerly o'er its silent tomb and say : 
 " Now shall its body ever here decay 
 
 And be no more by blooming life endowed 
 
 Before sweet Spring, obeying His command 
 
 Who changes life to death by His mysterious 
 Can whisper to the seed : Give me thy hand. 
 
 And rise again from the entombing sod 
 
 Unto a brighter, fairer morn, and stand 
 A loud-voiced prophet of a living God ! 
 
 n. 
 
 Why fear thee then, ray heart, to he some day 
 Under the sod away from tristful care 
 And life's unceasing toil? Forever there 
 
 Sin's cmel scepter will have lost its sway, 
 
 60 
 
RESURRECTION. 
 
 No more on thee its tearful burden lay — 
 
 And tho' grim death thy secret chambers bare, 
 His power shall not last, a morning fair 
 
 Will also dawn on thee and thy decay. 
 
 Then shalt thou hear the quickening trumpet's sound 
 
 Calling thy body from corruption's bed 
 Before thy Jesus' throne, there to be crowned 
 
 With immortaUty. Then shalt thou wed 
 Thy carols to the paeans that resound 
 To the God of the living and not of the dead. 
 
 6) 
 
Homeward Bound. 
 
 O hold me not, for I am homeward bound, 
 I see the farther shore. 
 
 0 hark! I hear rejoicing cymbals sound, 
 Praising forevermore 
 
 The Lamb, in glory holding 
 
 Among the sainted band 
 His blessed reign, unfolding 
 
 The mercies of His hand. 
 
 Farewell, false world, with thee my course is run. 
 
 No more thy tinselled joy 
 Shall cause my soul its brighter home to shun 
 
 And with thy love to toy. 
 Thy vanities and pleasures 
 
 Have led me oft astray, 
 But now I go to treasures 
 
 That never pass away. 
 
 Farewell, dread sin, no more thy fearful wraith 
 
 Shall cause me sigh or tear, 
 God's lovmg hand has kept me in the faith — 
 
 What need my soul to fear? 
 My Jesus paid thy wages 
 
 And cleansed me from thy stain, 
 
 1 fear not thy storm's rages. 
 For me to die is gain. 
 
 63 
 
HOMEWARD BOUND. 
 
 Farewell, o Hell, thy onslaughts now are o'er, 
 
 Thou hast no claim on me. 
 For over thee my Christ has evermore 
 
 Gained the great victory; 
 And I defy thy power 
 
 To harm a single hair, 
 Christ is my soul's strong tower, 
 
 I laugh at thy despair. 
 
 Farewell, ye friends, hold me not with your tears. 
 
 We part, but meet above. 
 Free from all cares, all weeping and all fears, 
 
 Where Christ shall be our love. 
 There we shall see rejoicmg 
 
 The loved ones gone before, 
 And God's praise ever voicing 
 
 Shall weep and part no more.