The long, lone, flowerless autumn—when the sun,
Hurled from his zenith, shivered cold and pale
On the horizon's verge—the funeral wail
O! tempest-burdened winds through forests dim,
And desolate, and drear,—all pass away
This morn, O Sabbath, in thy hallowed light,
And, glancing far beyond the infinite
Of thy blue heavens, where a clearer day
Lights the Eternal hills, I seem to see
The Heavenly City, whence the radiant gleam
Of a fair Temple, and a crystal stream
Of living water wanders down to me
In changeless light! O Home!—O Rest!-O Heaven!
Thus to thy hallowed calm I'd look away,
Sabbath of God!—Eternal Sabbath day!
Till to my soul thy tranquil rest is given.
THE EYE THAT NEVER SLEEPS
When the heavy, midnight shadows
Gather o'er a slumbering world,
And the banner folds of darkness
Are in gloomy pomp unfurled,—
Think, lone watcher, pale and tearful,
In thy sad, unpitied lot,
By the death couch waking, weeping,
There is One who slumbers not!—
One who, though no mourning brother
Share thy vigils lone and drear,
Loving, pitying, as no other
Loves or pities, watches near!
When the waves, o'erwrought by tempest,
Lift their strong arms to the skies,
And amid the inky darkness
Shrieks of winds and waters rise,—
Mariner, 'mid doubt and danger,
Wildly tossed upon the deep,
Think, o'er all in power presiding
There is One who does not sleep—
One who holds the risen tempest
In obedience to His will,
Who, to still its wildest fury,
Need but whisper—"Peace, be still"
When, weighed down by heavy anguish,
Waking, sad, at midnight lone,
Sorrowing mourner, thou dost languish
For affection's missing tone,—
When thy heart o'er buried treasures
In its uncheered misery weeps,
Think, that gently watching o'er thee,
Is an eye that never sleeps!
And, above the mournful shadows,
Lift thy heart so lone and riven,
Up to Him who 'mid thy sorrows
Wooes thee still to hope and Heaven
BY AND BY
God will not let His bright gifts die
If I may not sing my songs just now
I shall sing them by and by