XLV.
"Suppose there were near by a flock of sheep
Whose sad, gaunt looks bespoke the pasture bare,
While they have left scarce strength enough to creep,
From having lacked too long good food and care.
Suppose that these were brought to pasture fair,
The gate of which was opened wide to them.
Would they wait for command to enter there?
In truth I think not, and can rightly claim
That we in doing this incur not any blame."
XLVI.
This said, he read aloud the Savior's words,
Uttered that solemn night before he died.
Deep, soul-toned language which quite well accords
With his great sufferings for his blood-bought bride.
O, let not any this plain feast deride;
There ne'er was Ordinance appointed yet
That has more comfort to the Saints supplied.
'Tis calculated to make them forget
Their sorrows when they view Christ's death and bloody sweat.
XLVII.
And now most grateful thanks are offered up,
The Bread is broke, and all in silence eat.
Then in like manner they partake the Cup,
In fellowship they sit at Jesus' feet,
And take from his dear hands refreshment sweet.
This done, collection for the Saints is made,
And next praise rises to the "Mercy Seat."
From right glad hearts and unfeigned lips 'tis paid:
The meeting closes and each kind farewell is said.
XLVIII.
Yet this day's joyous service was not o'er;
Some met at night with GOODWORTH'S family,
And there together searched the hidden store
Of Bible truth, the prayer of Faith the key
That did unlock each wondrous mystery.
All were invited, nay were pressed to speak,
And show the light which God gave them to see.
This course served well to strengthen what was weak,
And all learned much who meekly were inclined to seek.
XLIX.
Nor was pure praise neglected at this time:
All were well pleased with that day's exercise.
And freely joined in Zion's songs sublime,
Thus pouring forth their evening sacrifice.
This did but strengthen pre-existing ties,
While warmer grew their hearts in Love's soft bands.
At nine o'clock reluctantly they rise,
To part at last with cordial shake of hands,
More fitted for the coming day, with its demands.
L.
I offer the above as a fair sample
Of this small Church's worship on First Days,
And should be highly pleased if their example
Had on our minds an influence always.
Their love and zeal are worthy of all praise,
Though all they have or are is of God's grace.
His love to them they view with deep amaze,
And trust ere long to see him face to face
In heavenly Regions—His own happy Dwelling Place.
LI.
To spare the Reader risk of long digression,
And keep within just bounds my humble tale,
I now in order give GOODWORTH'S profession
That none to understand his views may fail.
Against these views some men no doubt will rail,
But let such take the Bible in their hands,
And with Truth's weapons only them assail.
This the importance of the thing demands,
For by the Truth alone his doctrine falls or stands.
LII.
On Scriptural grounds of every Sinner's hope
He held no wavering views, for Truth shone clear
Into his soul, and gave him power to cope
With Error's darkest forms. He had no fear
Of man before his eyes. The spiteful sneer
Of Antinomians and proud Pharisees
Disturbed him not, save to call forth a tear
From heartfelt pity for the vagaries
Of their perverted judgments touching God's decrees.
LIII.
He held, then, that the Lord, who sees the end
From the beginning, did of his own pure grace
Choose some with him Eternity to spend,
From 'mongst the millions of our fallen race,
Determined all such should behold his face
In peace at last, in spite of Hell and sin.
These would in time his Gospel Truth embrace,
Or die incapable for Faith within.
Thus did he view the triumphs of God's Grace begin.
LIV.
He saw God's Love—Superlative, Eternal,
Gradually unfold the mystery
To Man, who by Satanic schemes infernal,
Had fall'n from happiness to misery.
And he by Faith's keen eye could clearly see
Its full development when Jesus came
The sinner's Surety and best Friend to be;
Who "bore the Cross and still despised the Shame,"
Nor shrank from God's just wrath—a fiercely burning flame.
LV.
Christ's glorious Resurrection too, he saw
To be God's stamp of approbation great
On that vicarious work which his just Law
Fulfilled—a ground of hope commensurate
To man's great needs in every age and state.
These truths so filled his warm and generous soul
That he on them would oft expatiate
Until his feelings seemed beyond control;
And this secured attention from his hearers all.
LVI.
Of man's free will he had not any doubt;
Yet he as much believed the declaration
Of God's own Word—which some men dare to flout—
That man's heart is, in every rank and station,
"Always deceitful," filled with profanation,
"And desparately wicked." This none know
But God, who has provided expiation,
And sent his Holy Spirit down to show
These facts to sinners dead, and on them Life bestow.
LVII.
On final perseverance of all Saints
He took the highest stand which man can take,
And found in it a balm for most complaints
Of Christian souls, to sense of sin awake.
This glorious truth to him would often make
Light shine in darkness and dispel his fear;
Oft led him to endure for Jesus' sake
Loss of beloved objects, and appear
An ever happy man, 'midst prospects dark and drear.
LVIII.
Besides the views I have already given
He held it right that Christians all should use
The talents they possess as gifts from heaven.
Neglect of this admits of no excuse,
Though there are times when men their gifts abuse.
As members of the Church all have their place,
And none well taught of God should e'er refuse
To aid His cause according to the Grace
Received since they were led Salvation to embrace.
LIX.
For peaceful rule and needful discipline,
He held that churches should call two or more
Of members, who well qualified had been,
As Elders, by God's Spirit to watch o'er
The flock of Christ; men skilled in Bible lore,
And "apt to teach; not novices, but such
As have seen service in the Truth, and bore
Good characters becoming Christians much,"
For only men like these should that high office touch.
LX.
Two or more Deacons they should also call,
Who by the Scripture rule are qualified
To keep the Church's funds, and still help all
Who may by poverty be sorely tried.
By such arrangements Churches should abide,
If they would faithful prove unto the Lord.
We have no right to set His Laws aside;
Such conduct is by our Great Head abhorred,
And does with our profession very ill accord.
LXI.
As this Church was but young it was deemed best
That they should, as their pastor, him retain.
He thanked them much for confidence expressed,
And hoped it would not tend to make him vain.
He thought it right his views thus to explain,
And trusted they would give them due attention.
Should his poor life be spared he would remain
And labor hard to keep them from declension,
Though of their falling off he had no apprehension.
LXII.
The Salary question next came on the board.
What should the amount be, how or whence obtained?
The Church itself could not the means afford;
Perhaps some others might assistance lend—
But would the pastor such a course commend?
Had they consulted him at first they would
Have found they had no cause to apprehend
A lack of means to serve intentions good;
He wished to labor freely for Christ's brotherhood.
LXIII.
He and his family needed then no aid
Except what new-come Settlers might require.
And obligation was upon him laid
To seek the good of souls from motives higher
Than worldly gain. He trusted his desire
Was that the Gospel might be free to all.
What Christ had done for him his zeal would fire,
And make him earnest in the sinner's call;
Thus gladly would he forward press toward the goal.
LXIV.
Now let not Christians who from him may differ
Suppose this man could no forbearance show.
It was his wish to be in nothing stiffer
Than Truth required, which God led him to know.
From human creeds his conscience said "withdraw!"
To stand by such advice he was content.
To Pharisaic pride he was a foe,
And to ungodliness where'er he went,
While to promote true Love his gifts and time were spent.
LXV.
My Muse again of temporal-things would sing,
And I her mandate hasten to obey.
Upon all farms there's work enough in Spring,
And GOODWORTH'S people were not used to play.
'Tis true their farm was small, yet day by day
They plenty found to occupy their time;
That patch of ground the labor would repay.
As for good crops, 'twas in condition prime:
Such they all hoped to raise in that fine fruitful clime.
LXVI.
Six acres still lay right behind the two;
Doubtless it had an Indian clearance been.
This needs not much to fit it for the plow,
So they of brush and rubbish rid it clean,
And broke it up. Then a rail fence was seen
Most speedily to compass it around.
Soon spring wheat sown was looking brightly green,
While in the garden useful plants were found,
And these good prospects made the family's joys abound.
LXVII.
Their live stock was not large, yet they possessed
Two milking cows, and yoke of oxen strong,
Some turkeys, hogs, and poultry of the best.
These all were bought ere they had been there long.
For finest fish they could not well go wrong;
The lake supplied all that they wished to get.
In small canoe they often sailed along
The side of lovely isles and cast their net,
Or fished with line till glorious Sol had nearly set.
LXVIII.
Sometimes a deer would venture near enough
To run the risk of catching lumps of lead,
And this well dressed was no unsavory stuff
With which to help a meal of wheaten bread.
Of bears and wolves they were at first in dread,
But soon found out there was no cause for fear;
For if such came and mortal showed his head,
They soon ran off with a true coward's leer,
Which made it seem surprising they should come so near.
LXIX.
To clear against the Fall, the sons marked out
Ten acres of the woods well filled with trees.
Such work required strong arms and courage stout,
And those young men could rightly boast of these.
They now with willing hands their axes seize
And push the work from early morn till night.
Loud sound the strokes, till each brave woodman sees
The trees begin to tremble in their sight,
And soon with thundering sound upon the ground alight.
LXX.
The chopper's life is not a life of ease—
And yet to those who understand it well
There's much about it that doth tend to please
Their warm, strong minds, as they such monsters fell.
I have oft stood as if bound by a spell,
When some huge giant swayed awhile in air,
And then with crash tremendous shook the dell,
While cows from fright would scamper here and there,
But soon return to browse its top for lack of fare.
LXXI.
While those in woods were busily employed
Swinging their axes in true workman style,
Their sisters neatly dressed as much enjoyed
The garden work, quite cheered by Nature's smile.
Lightening their labor with sweet songs the while,
They trained the different plants with skillful hands;
A pleasing task well fitted to beguile
Such modest, gentle girls, who in Love's bands
Were bound together, thus obeying God's commands.
LXXII.
Their gardener skill was not alone confined
To what was wanted for their bodily needs.
By nature taught, each had a tasteful mind,
And this was shown by planting flower seeds.
These by some folks are looked upon as weeds,
And therefore useless—not e'en worth a straw!
From such coarse souls I do not look for deeds
Which, in sweet aspect, do our nature show;
I envy not their taste nor all they chance to know.
LXXIII.
I love to look on flowers. They to my soul
Sincerest pleasure and sweet peace still bring;
Their varied charms can wondrously control
My troubled spirit—smarting from the sting
Of cold neglect and sad, crushed hopes, whence spring
Many sore trials to the sons of men.
I, midst my flowers, can feel myself a king,
Nor envy much the rich and mighty then,
With all their pomp and pride, or gorgeous trappings vain.
LXXIV.
And those fair damsels always loved to view
Sweet tulips, pinks, and daisies' charms unfold,
The peony's blush, the lovely rose's hue,
And woodbine's blossoms—lilies like pure gold.
All these, and more, were pleasant to behold,
And well repaid them for their frequent toil.
Their plants throve well in that rich, deep, black mold,
And though the work did their nice fingers soil,
It kept them ever free from this poor world's turmoil.
LXXV.
The settlers round beheld with much surprise
The neat-kept garden in such beauty seen,
And oft they looked with rather longing eyes
Upon the flowers bedecked in glorious sheen.
Sometimes a youth upon the fence would lean
And Watch with due respect the sisters fair;
Then anxious ask what this and that could mean,
Or names of plants which seemed to him so rare.
Doubtless it was to see the maidens he came there.
LXXVI.
Of this I could not speak with certainty;
But mutual blushes, looks significant,
Are very apt to tell strange tales to me.
I once was young, so you will therefore grant
I should know something of what youths still want
When they to such sweet girls quite bashful come,
And utter words as if their stock was scant.
Well, 'tis but natural, and I would be mum;
Of bliss thus sought and gained 'twere hard to tell the sum.
LXXVII.
Often the parents, in their Master's spirit,
Would link-armed take a pleasant walk at eve
To visit neighbors, and thus seek to merit
That just reward which faithful Saints receive
From Jesus Christ, who never will deceive
Those working well for him. They therefore went
Gladly each burdened conscience to relieve,
And those assist who were by sickness spent,
Or tell to all, the message which their God had sent.