THOUGHTS OF HOME.

193

I've been thinking of home: of the loved ones there,

Dear friends, who have gone before,

With whom we walked to the death-river side, And sadly thought, as we watched the tide, Of the happy days of yore.

I've been thinking of home, and my heart is full

Of love for the Lamb of God,

Who His precious life as a ransom gave, For a sinful race e'en our souls to save From Justice, avenging rod.

I've been thinking of home and I'm homesick now,

My spirit doth long to be

In "the better land," where the ransomed sing Of the love of Christ, their Redeemer, King, Of mercy, so costly, and free.

To the Triune God, sweetest songs of praise With glory, and honor, and might.

Mary F. Kirby.

OH! TO BE READY.

TO be ready when death shall come,
Oh! to be ready to hasten home!
No earthward clinging, no lingering
gaze,

No strife at parting, no sore amaze;
No chains to sever that earth hath twined,
No spell to loosen that love would bind.

No flitting shadows to dim the light
Of the angel-pinions winged for flight;
No cloud-like phantoms to fling a gloom
'Twixt heaven's bright portals and earth's
dark tomb;

But sweetly, gently, to pass away
From the world's dim twilight into day.

To list to the music of angel lyres,
To catch the rapture of seraph fires,
To lean in trust on the risen One,
Till borne away to a fadeless throne.
Oh! to be ready when death shall come!
Oh! to be ready to hasten home!

Anonymous.

THE MEETING-PLACE.

HERE the faded flower shall freshen,
Freshen never more to fade;

Where the shaded sky shall brighten,
Brighten never more to shade;
Where the sun-blaze never scorches;
Where the star-beams cease to chill;
Where no tempest stirs the echoes
Of the wood, or wave, or hill;
Where the morn shall wake in gladness,
And the moon the joy prolong;
Where the daylight dies in fragrance
'Mid the burst of holy song-
Brother, we shall meet and rest,
'Mid the holy and the blest.

Where no shadow shall bewilder;
Where life's vain parade is o'er;
Where the sleep of sin is broken,

And the dreamer dreams no more;
Where the bond is never severed
Partings, claspings, sobs, and moan,
Midnight waking, twilight weeping,
Heavy noon-tide — all are done;

196 THE MEETING-PLACE.

Where the child has found its mother,
Where the mother finds the child;
Where dear families are gathered,

That were scattered on the wild
Brother, we shall meet and rest
'Mid the holy and the blest.

Where the hidden wound is healed;
Where the blighted light re-blooms;
Where the smitten heart the freshness
Of its buoyant youth resumes;
Where the love that here we lavish
On the withering leaves of time,
Shall have fadeless flowers to fix on,
In an ever spring-bright clime;
Where we find the joy of loving,
As we never loved before;
Loving on unchilled, unhindered,
Loving once and evermore
Brother, we shall meet and rest
'Mid the holy and the blest.

Where a blasted world shall brighten
Underneath a bluer sphere,
And a softer, gentler sunshine

Shed its healing splendor here;
Where earth's barren vales shall blossom,
Putting on their robe of green,

And a purer, fairer Eden

Be where only wastes have been;

OVER THE RIVER.

197

Where a King, in kingly glory
Such as earth has never known,
Shall assume the righteous sceptre,
Claim and wear the heavenly crown-
Brother, we shall meet and rest

'Mid the holy and the blest.

H. Bonar.

OVER THE RIVER.

VER the river they beckon to me

Loved ones who've crossed to the
further side;

The gleam of their snowy robes I see,
But their voices are drowned in the rushing

tide,

There's one with ringlets of sunny gold,

And eyes, the reflection of heaven's own

blue;

He crossed in the twilight, gray and cold,

And the pale mist hid him from mortal view. We saw not the angels who met him there; The gates of the city we could not see; Over the river, over the river,

My brother stands waiting to welcome me!