In the Wayland Orthodox Church.
Feed my lambs! the Saviour said,
Near two thousand years ago;
If we truly love the Lord,
By obedience, love we’ll show.
What was said to Peter then,
In that distant age and clime,
Sure is binding on us now,
Here and to the end of time.
If our Shepherd then we love,
His commandments we’ll obey;
Let us true disciples prove,
Feed his lambs as best we may.
Twice twelve years have passed this day,22. June 13, 1852.
Since our Sabbath School commenced;
Countless lessons have been learned,
Much instruction been dispensed.
Let us up and doing be,
Sow the seed all times and hours;
Cast our bread on water even,
Tax with vigor all our powers.
May the teachers now engaged,
Courage take, and persevere;
They’ll not fail of their reward,
Though they may not meet it here.
God is faithful, who hath said,
(Let the thought allay your fears,)
“They with joy shall surely reap,
Who have sown in prayers and tears.”
Then sow the seed with prayers and tears;
Never doubt, but faithful be;
Though thou reapest not for years,
A rich harvest thou wilt see.
Happy faces now we miss,
Who were wont these seats to fill;
Loved and lovely passed away,
Yet they’re fresh in memory still.
Soon their earthly race was run,
In the morning called away;
Others soon may follow them,
May all hear the Saviour say,
“Well done, faithful servant; thou
Hast o’er few things faithful been,
I will make the ruler now
Over many—enter in.”
Feed my Lambs.
Just before the bright cloud the Saviour received,
When about to return to his father in Heaven;
His mission accomplished, his work on earth done,
’Twas then that this parting injunction was given:
“Feed my lambs!” this was said to one of the twelve,
Whom he called to be with him while sojourning here;
“Feed my lambs!” Oh, what love was evinced by those words,
What tender compassion, what fatherly care.
Three times at this meeting the question was asked,
“Simon, son of Jonas, lovest thou me?”
And though grieved, yet how truly could Peter reply,
“Lord thou knowest all things, thou know’st I love thee.”
Thrice this same Peter his Lord had denied,
And had he not reason reproaches to fear?
Oh, no! for his Saviour had all this forgiven,
He saw his repentance, he knew it sincere.
That disciple soon followed his Lord whom he loved,
And many long ages have since passed away;
But the parting command still remains in full force,
And will ever remain so till time’s latest day.
Many wolves in sheep’s clothing are still to be found,
Whom Satan fails not to instruct and employ;
They enter the fold, and with most specious wiles,
Seek the young of the flock to ensnare and destroy.
And shall we dare call ourselves followers of Christ,
And yet his known precepts presume to evade?
Ah! stop and reflect, what’s the test that’s required?
“If ye love me, keep my commandments,” he said.
June 26, 1852.
“God is Love.”
Come blest Spirit from above,
Come and fill my heart with love;
Love to God, and love to man,
Love to do the good I can;
Love to high, and love to low,
Love to friend, and love to foe.
Love to rich, and love to poor,
Love to beggar at my door.
Love to young, and love to old,
Love to hardened heart and cold.
Love, true love, my heart within
For the sinner, not the sin;
Love to holy Sabbath day,
Love to meditate and pray,
Love for love, for hatred even;
Love like this, is born of Heaven.
To my Friend Mrs. Lloyd
My very dear friend
Should never depend
Upon anything clever or witty,
From a poor country wight
When attempting to write,
To one in your far famous city.
Indeed I’m inclined,
To fear that you’ll find
These lines heavy, and quite out of joint;
And now I declare,
It’s no more than fair,
Should this prove a dull letter,
That you write me a better;
And something that’s quite to the point.
This having premised
As at present advised,
I’ll indulge in the thoughts that incline,
Not with curious eye
The dim future to spy,
But glance backward to “Auld Lang Syne.”
If I recollect right,
It was a cold day quite,
And not far from night
When the Boarding School famous I entered.
Now what could I do?
Scarce above my own shoe
Did I dare take a view,
Or to speak, or e’en move hardly ventured.
At this school I remained
Till supposed to have gained
Education quite good and sufficient;
But one in those days,
Thought deserving of praise,
Would in these, be deemed very deficient.
And here we will try
Before the mind’s eye,
To bring forward a few of that household;
There were the witty,
Also the pretty,
But some very plain,
Not a few very vain,
And among them the phlegmatic and cold.
Though it seems out of place
I will here find a space
For some few in the lower apartment;
Sure this must be right,
They contributed quite
To our comfort, in their humble department.
Here’s Lydia and Polly,
And Peter the jolly,
With teeth white as ivory
And cheeks black as ebony,
So from Africa doubtless was he;
But we’ll ascend from below,
And see entering just now
With a Parisian bow
And all in a glow
Gay Monsieur Pichon,
And French teacher Faucon;
Also V——, the Musician,
And B——, Mathematician.
Monsieur Laboltierre,
So brisk and debonnair
Had also been there;
And there’s Eggleston fair,
With whom none might compare.
Miss W——, romantic,
Miss F——, transatlantic,
And of others a score you might see.
But here I propose
The long list to close,
With addition of only one name;
Amidst the gay throng
Was one lovely and young,
Who brought sunshine wherever she came.
She had light brown hair,
Was graceful and fair,
Of children many
Youngest of any,
And Margaret this maiden they call;
A sweet smile she had
That round her lips played,
And with eyes bright and blue
She’d a heart warm and true
And disposition affectionate withal.
One advantage she’ll allow
That I have over her now,
The same in our youthful days, when
On our studies intent
Over school desk we bent,
Her Senior I always have been.
How like to a dream
Do those days to me seem,
When with others preparing to enter
On the world’s great stage,
And with light heart engage
Our part in the drama to venture.
Of that school there’s not one
Except thee alone,
Whom now living as friend I can claim;
Some have departed,
Some are false hearted,
And their friendship exists but in name.
But that friendship’s long lived
That forty years has survived,
And may we not hope ’twill endure,
When in flames of fire
This earth will expire,
And old time shall itself be no more.
July 12, 1852.