Home-gathered early, when the sun so brightly
In life's fair morning tinged their curls with gold,
And o'er their snowy brows all calm and lightly—
The joyous span of earth's brief time had roll'd.
Home-gathered early; fair to mortal seeming,
The promises that o'er their pathway hung,
But ah! we cannot e'en in fondest dreaming
Conceive their bliss amid the cherub throng.
Eye hath not seen, nor to man's heart is given,
To know what to His loved one He bestows
What joys untold the ransomed band in heaven,
Through the eternal, blissful ages knows.
And the bereavement is no hopeless sorrow,
No lasting parting, but an ending pain;
We feel that upward, toward the glad to-morrow
Are drawn these links of the earth-binding chain.
For well we know that these, our darlings, entered,
Into His joy, shall be at last restored
So while our hope in perfect faith is centred
We wait for resurrection in the Lord.
LOOKING UNTO JESUS.
Worn and wearied on earth's road
Oft with stumbling feet I go;
Eyes that fain would look to God
Dim and weak with sin and woe.
But when, all my guilty stains
Rise in dread immensity,
Then I know my Saviour's pains
Took the load of guilt from me.
Pardoned, healed, redeemed, restored,
Then I look to Christ, my Lord!
When the clouds of sorrow rise,
And the light of woe is dim,
When the subtle Tempter tries
To win back my soul to him.
Then I look to One Who said,
"All things I have overcome;
Onward go, be not afraid
I shall guide to yonder Home!"
Then what evil can betide
While I lean on Christ, my Guide?
Worn with toil of earthly strife—
Wearied hands and heart grown faint,
Tired of all the ills of life,
For the water brooks I pant,
Then above the world's wild din,
I can hear "Come unto Me;
I shall heal these wounds of sin,
Give you rest, and make you free!"
When my doubting soul is blest
When I look to Christ my Rest.
Journeying o'er this path of tears
Oft my doubting heart is cold,
Far away my Home appears—
The gates of pearl—the street of gold.
Can I ever enter there?
All the way with danger rife,—
Then the Master's voice I hear,
"I am the Way, the Truth, the Life!
Ah! what doubt can then dismay
While I walk with Christ, the Way!
"Looking unto Jesus" still
I can bid my doubting cease,
Joyful, though beset with ill,
Fighting, yet at perfect peace—
Sorrowful, yet filled with joy,
Tossed, yet feeling all secure;
Earth nor Hell cannot annoy
While my peace with Him is sure!
"Looking unto Jesus," blest!
Soul at anchor, heart at rest!