Will lead them forth where greener pastures lie?

What pitiest thou the helpless flock?--so He, Thy watchful friend, in pity thinks of thee "I the GOOD SHEPHERD am, and ye the sheep, With tenderest care my little flock I keep, No ravenous beast shall prey upon my own, They know my voice, and follow me alone"

Is yonder sun a welcome sight to thee, As up the east he rides exultingly?-- Do the hills wake to beauty as he comes, And valleys blush with countless opening blooms? Do the streams sparkle, and the woodlands ring With the sweet lays the happy warblers sing? He is a SUN, and where His radiance streams Beauty and gladness waken in His beams, The soul expands to perfect leaf and flower, And ripening fruitage waits the vintage hour,-- Songs of rejoicing float upon the air, And 'neath His rays 'tis Summer everywhere.

Is yonder vine a pleasant, goodly thing, As upward still its laden branches spring, As its ripe clusters woo the longing sight To linger still with ever new delight? "I'm the TRUE VINE," saith Christ, "the branches ye,-- The living Vine, abide ye still in me; Thus shall my life to every branch be given, Thus shall each branch bring forth the fruit of Heaven!"

See, yonder traveller in a desert land, Toils day by day o'er tracks of burning sand, A lurid sky above--beneath, around, The dreary desert spreads its wastes profound. With blistered feet, and aching, blood-shot eye, Long dimly strained some fountain to descry, Onward he toils, while hope, as days depart, Grows feebler, fainter, at his weary heart

On the horizon's verge he sees at length A shadowy line, and lo, his failing strength In a full tide returns!--His weary feet Speed gladly on, by courage rendered fleet: He gains the fount, he drinks, and toil and care, And dread and danger, all forgotten are!

So, to life's weary pilgrim, Christ is made In the drear desert a refreshing SHADE! A FOUNT OF LIVING WATER, never dry, To all the thirsty yielding full supply,-- A WELL OF WATER ever springing up To Life Eternal--fount of joy and hope!

Student of nature! dost thou love, at morn, To tread where earliest flowers the wild adorn?-- To view the lowly blossoms of the field, In shady nooks half-hidden, half-revealed-- The wild rose, scenting all the dewy air, The graceful lily bending meekly there?

Then think as with admiring eye you trace Those meek, sweet dwellers in each lonely place, That He, of whom I sing well knowing how The heart to Natures lovely gifts, would bow, Would lead your thoughts with gentle, winning force Up from created Beauty to its Source

He is the ROSE OF SHARON--fairest flower That perfume breathed through Eden's hallowed bower The LILY OF THE VALLEY, pensive, fair, With heavenly sweetness flooding all the air,-- Thrice sacred symbol, breathing evermore Of Him whom angels cease not to adore!

Thou man of Science, who, with practised eye And glance untiring sweep'st the starry sky, Speeding in thought along those trackless ways, Where planets burn and constellations blaze, Leaving uncounted worlds behind thee far,-- Listen--"I am THE BRIGHT AND MORNING STAR !" He says--and does not thought more gladly stray, Where the meek herald of the rising day Sits like a peaceful vestal bearing high Her radiant urn on the soft eastern sky?-- Thence, rising, seek the Morning Star of Heaven, Who to Night's myriad suns their light has given, And, bowing low Light's sacred Fount before, In wondering, reverential awe adore?

Soul, ever groping through the mists of time, To find the path which leads to the sublime, Still heights of God!--weak are thy steps and slow, Yet there's a path no fowl of heaven doth know,-- No lion's whelp that secret way hath found,-- No eagle marked it from the heights profound,-- No human art, unhelped, discerned the road That leadeth up to happiness and God!

Yet, anxious Soul! dost thou not hear Him say, "Cease thy vain groping,--lo, I am the WAY,-- The way to God,--the one unerring Way? All other paths will lend thy feet astray, I only, WISDOM, am the path that lies 'Twixt man and God the Sovereign of the skies!"

Seeker of Truth !--long hast thou striven to find This only boon that satisfies the mind Through Nature's stores the treasure hast thou sought; Hast traversed all the boundless fields of thought, Questioned the lonely night, the laughing day, The ocean-depths, the founts that ceaseless play, Old hoary mountains, cliffs, and caverns lone, Earth's secret depths--mysterious, unknown, Asked of the past, the present, future, striven To pierce the mysteries unrevealed of Heaven, Yet weary and unsatisfied remained, Longing for Truth, still far off, unattained,-- That truth which _satisfies_ the anxious quest, And with the attainment, bringeth _perfect rest_.

"I am the TRUTH!"--saith Christ,--O, wearied one! Tired of thy fruitless search beneath the sun, Accept this boon, so sacred, so divine, In simple trust, and all thou seek'st is thine-- Truth that makes free,--that falsehood cannot dim,-- In full completeness all made thine in Him!

Lover of life! say, what wouldst thou not give, To know that thou eternally shouldst live? Is Death a thing from which to shrink with dread? The dreary valley dost thou fear to tread? What wouldst thou give to pierce the unknown Dark That lies before thy feebly tossing bark. And know what anchor in that unknown sea, Or wreck disastrous, there awaiteth thee?

Dost trembling cling to this frail thread of life, Through pain, and doubt, and weariness, and strife, Rather than trust thy dimly groping hand Its hold to fasten on that unknown land Whence none return, its secrets to declare, And tell what bliss or rum waits thee there?

Well mayst thou cling to Earth, unless thy ear Opened has been, the voice from Heaven to hear,-- To hear the Christ, amid Earth's wearying strife, Its toil and tumult, say "_I am the_ LIFE!" "_I am_ THE LIFE!"--oh, then, undo thy clasp On this frail-being, and with deathless grasp Lay hold on Him, in whom, by whom alone, The bliss of Life Eternal may be known!-- Failing in this, how deep must be the gloom-- The unpierced darkness of the lonely tomb!-- In this succeeding, what exultant day O'er all thy future pours its blissful ray!

Is light a blessing?--He's the soul's clear LIGHT-- The blessed DAY-STAR, scattering the night! Is peace the sweetest boon to mortals given?-- Jesus is PEACE made manifest from Heaven! Is love the bond of life, beneath, above, In Earth, or Heaven?--His highest name is LOVE!

ROCK, REFUGE, REST. a SHIELD in conflict dire, Around His saints A WALL OF LIVING FIRE, STRENGTH, HOPE, REDEMPTION, RIGHTEOUSNESS divine; FAIREST AMONG TEN THOUSAND fair that shine On hills Of light by high archangels trod, Judah's stern LION, spotless LAMB OF GOD; THE SON OF GOD, THE SON OF MAN, THE BREAD OF LIFE, with which each heir of Heaven is fed; THE RESURRECTION from the dust of death; AUTHOR AND FINISHER of all our Faith; God's manifested thought--Eternal WORD By whom creation's eldest depths were stirred; ALPHA, OMEGA, FIRST, LAST, JEHOVAH, MAN! So ends my song just where my song began! JESUS!--"He saves His people from their sins!" _Thus end all praises, where all praise begins!_