Poem

In glory Thou, in glory we,

Bright in the heavenly majesty!

No part of Thy dear life below

But in its fullness I shall know,

Retouched by Thee, regained by me,

In realms of immortality!

With burning hearts we'll then rejoice

In echoes of that well-known voice,

Which to two burning hearts of old

Did mysteries of grace unfold:

The voice that stilled bold nature's strife,

The voice that called the dead to life,

Which said in sympathy, " I will,"

And spake in power " Peace, be still."

The hand that touched disease away,

And proved the sinking Peter's stay;

That raised the widow's child, and then

To her fond arms gave back again;

The hand that washed the feet all clean,

Speaking the heart that heat within;

The lifted hand that blessed them here

When parting, but to bless them there.

The arms which still are what they were

When little children's home was there.

The bosom, too, the same as when

John the beloved leaned thereon.

Here changes wrought no change in Thee,

The same from first to last we see;

In life and resurrection, Thou,

Jesus! wert one both then and now.

In sweetest, gentlest forms of grace,

Amid Thine own Thou took'st Thy place;

The draft of fishes on the shore

Bespoke Thee risen as before;

And the spread table told of One

The same, past, present, and to come.

Fed in the wilderness of old,

The camp of God nor bought nor sold,

But stores of heaven were oped each morn,

And angels' food, or heaven's corn,

Conveyed on dew, supplied the place-

Grand, gorgeous miracle of grace!

And Thou, Lord Jesus! in Thy day,

Again didst food in deserts lay;

Yet not in grandeur of the past,

But dearer—what shall ever last-

'Twas Thine own heart that felt the need,

'Twas Thine own hand the bread supplied.-

'Twas Thine own lips the blessing breathed-

Heart, hand, and lips the service weaved.

These were Thy sympathies with us,

And we shall ever know Thee thus.

'Twas joy to Thee, while here on earth,

To mark the progress of that birth

Which leads poor sinners into light,

Forth from the gloom of nature's night.

'Twas joy to Thee while here on earth,

To hail the bold approach of faith,

The faith that reached Thee through the crowd,

Or, though forbidden, cried aloud.

For love delighteth to he used.

Faith's earnest thoughts are ne'er refused:

And this same joy and love in Thee,

We know unchanged, eternally.

The look, the sigh, the groan, the tear,

Which marked Thy spirit's pathway here,

We own them, still, 0 Lord, in Thee,

Thy mind, 'Thy heart, Thy sympathy!

Of Calvary I speak not here;

Blood sealed our only title there;

It has its own peculiar place

Amid the mysteries of grace.

But-the loved home at Bethany,

And neighboring lone Gethsemane,

Poor Nazareth and Bethlehem,

And faithless, proud Jerusalem,

The mount, the wilderness, the sea,

The villages of Galilee,

The gate of Nain, Sychar's well,

The coasts of Sidon, all will tell

The One who traveled here before,

And tell us we need ask no more,

But stand, with welcome, soon to be

At home forever, Lord, with Thee!

Thus memory knows Thee, through the word

In all Thy ways and doings, Lord!

And memory no fiction weaves,

But turns to truthful living leaves,

The foot-prints of a real past,

Which shine, and hold forever fast.

'Tis not descriptive words of Thee,

But illustrations clear, we see;

God's glory in Thy face portrayed-

Bright, living likeness without shade.

They who see Thee the Father see-

Wondrous and priceless mystery!

The heavens Creator-glory tell,

His power and Godhead they reveal;

But these are hints by which we frame

Some of the secrets of His name:

But all He is, by sinners known,

In one blest Image He has shown.

We have not there to guess and spell,

We read in lines, fair, bright, and full,

We read it in our Jesu's face,

And now, all doubts and searchings cease.

The sinner looks, wayfaring men

The poor, and babes and sucklings then;

All learn Thee as Thou art and wert,

And thus Thou art forever learned.

Whate'er of Thine has once been shown,

That same is, sure, forever known:

Thy virtues, like Thyself, all fair,

No seed of change or loss is there:

Each feature of Thy heart and mind

For' ever shineth in its kind:

" Because 'tis Thine," makes this all plain,

It must be still, for it has been:

" Jesus the same, and ours forever "-

No strength of hell this bond can sever.

But this we pray-for know we well

The world's and nature's dangerous spell,—-

"Let no fair hope of human joy

The fond desirous heart employ!

Let not the creature now repair

The breaches of each passing year!

With lamps still trimmed, and virgin love,

Teach us to wait Thee from above,

As bridal children, fasting here,

Till Thou, the Morning-Star appear,

To share with us that earliest light,

Day's harbinger, so lone and bright,

Pledging, ere long, a world new born,

Times of refreshing, like the morn."

Thus may our hopes and fears be past,

And with Thyself our lot be cast!

For eye hath not seen, nor hath ear heard,

What Thou in glory hast prepared

For him who loves and waits for Thee

In Thine own world with Thee to be;

With Thee who art no stranger here,

Though we as yet be strangers there.

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Lamb of God