Thy gates stand open, wide and free,
When men provoke and wrongs oppress,
We seek Thy wider liberty.
With loftier mind and heart,
Let each man bear his part!
So--to the final fight,
And God defend the right!
We shall, we must, we will be--Free!
TREASURE-TROVE
Lord Christ, let me but hold Thy hand
And all the rest may go.
For nothing is, but only seems,
And life is full of idle dreams,
Until Thyself we know.
The whole wide world is nought beside
The wonder of Thy love.
And though my state be mean and strait,
Give me but heart to work and wait,
And I have Treasure-Trove.
THE GATE
"A little child shall lead them."
I trod an arduous way, but came at last
To where the city walls rose fair and white
Above the darkening plain,--a goodly sight.
And eagerly, while yet a great way off,
My eyes did seek the Gates--the Great White Gates
That close not ever, day or night, but stand
Wide as the love of Christ that opened them.
But nought could I discern of gate or breach,
The wall stood flawless far as eye could reach.
"But when I drew in closer to the wall,
I saw a lowly portal, strait and small;
So small, a man might hardly enter there,
Low-browed and shadowed, and close-pressed to earth--
A very needle's eye--scarce visible.
I looked and wondered. Could this trivial way
Be the sole entrance to the light of day?
And as I stood perplext, a clear voice cried,--
_Come! Enter in! The Gate is open wide_."
And while I stood in doubt, there came along
One of earth's mighty ones--a conqueror
Of Kings. He looked for gates that should swing wide
To meet his high estate and welcome him.
He stood and gazed, then raised his voice and cried,
"My work on earth is done. I would within,"
And from the City wall the voice replied,--
"_Come! Enter in! The Gate is open wide_."
He stood perplext, then set himself to wait,
Till Might should help him to discern the Gate.
Another came,--a man of mind so rare,
He scarce had breathed the common earthly air.
Knowledge was his, and wisdom so profound,
All things he knew in heaven and earth. No bound
To his accomplishment, until he sought
The great wide-opened Gate,--and found it not.
He stood perplext, and then cried wearily,
"Pray give me entrance. I am done with earth."
And from the City wall the clear voice cried,--
"_Come! Enter in! The Gate is open wide_."
He looked in vain, then set himself to wait,
Till Wisdom should direct him to the gate.
I saw a woman come, noble and fair,
And pure of heart, and in her goodly deeds
More richly robed than Fashion's fairest queen.
And to myself I said,--"Surely for her
A way will open that she may go in!"
She said no word, but stood and looked upon
The shining walls, with eyes that answering shone.
And from the City wall the clear voice cried,--
"_Come! Enter in! The Gate is open wide_."
She looked in vain, then set herself to wait,
Till Love should help her to discern the Gate.
And one there came, with clear keen face--a Judge
Of men on earth, and famed for fearless truth.
His robes were stainless and his heart was clean.
"Entrance I crave," he cried, "to well-earned rest,--
And mercy-tempered justice and no more."
And from the City wall the clear voice cried,--
"_Come! Enter in! The Gate is open wide_."
He looked in vain, then set himself to wait
Till Judgment should direct him to the Gate.
And one there came, sad-eyed, his brow still raw
From pressure of an earthly crown. He too
Sought glorious entrance through wide-opened gates,
And stood perplext. He had borne well his part,
And served his people and his God, and died
The Martyr's death, and yet he found no gate.
"I fain would rest," he cried. "My life has been
One ceaseless striving. I would enter in."
And from the City wall the clear voice cried,--
"_Come! Enter in! The Gate is open wide_."
Perplext he stood, then set himself to wait,
Till Patient Waiting should discern the Gate.
And one who had had riches beyond most,
And yet subserved them to his Master's good,
Came searching for the heavenly gates, and stood
Amazed to find no opening in the walls.
"I gave of all I had," he cried, "and held
Nought as my own,--yet entrance is denied."
And from the City wall the clear voice cried,--
"_Come! Enter in! The Gate is open wide_."
He stood perplext, then set himself to wait
Till Charity should point him to the Gate.
And many more there were who entrance craved,
And sought the Great White Gates, and stood perplext.
And ever, from within, the clear voice cried,--
"_Come! Enter in! The Gate is open wide_."
They sought in vain, and set themselves to wait
Till Light was given them to discern the Gate.
And then--a child in white came carolling
Along the arduous road we all had trod.
He stopped and looked, then laughed with childish glee,--
"_Why wait ye here without? Come, follow me_!"--
And passed, scarce bending, through the lowly door,--
We heard his singing,--him we saw no more.
The woman stooped and looked, with eyes that shone,
Into the doorway where the child had gone;
Then loosed her robes and dropped, and in a shift
Of pure white samite, on her hands and knees
She crept into the doorway and was gone,
And we stood gazing at the way she went.
And, one by one, they followed. First the Judge
Laid by his robes, and bowed him to the ground,
And followed--where the little child had led.
And he whose brow had borne that weighty crown
Bent low and followed,--where the little child had led.
And he who knew so much of earthly things
Discarded them, and, on his hands and knees,
Crept through the doorway,--where the little child had led.
And he of riches laid him in the dust
And followed,--where the little child had led.
And, last of all, the War Lord cast aside
His victor's wreaths, and all his pomp and pride,
And followed,--where the little child had led.
And, groping through my fears, I bowed my head
And followed,--where the little child had led.
BRING US THE LIGHT
I hear a clear voice calling, calling,
Calling out of the night,
O, you who live in the Light of Life,
Bring us the Light!
We are bound in the chains of darkness,
Our eyes received no sight,
O, you who have never been bond or blind,
Bring us the Light!
We live amid turmoil and horror,
Where might is the only right,
O, you to whom life is liberty,
Bring us the Light!
We stand in the ashes of ruins,
We are ready to fight the fight,
O, you whose feet are firm on the Rock,
Bring us the Light!
You cannot--you shall not forget us,
Out here in the darkest night,
We are drowning men, we are dying men,
Bring, O, bring us the Light!
ALL'S WELL!
Is the pathway dark and dreary?
God's in His heaven!
Are you broken, heart-sick, weary?
God's in His heaven!
Dreariest roads shall have an ending,
Broken hearts are for God's mending.
All's well! All's well!
All's ... well!
Are life's threads all sorely tangled?
God's in His heaven!
Are the sweet chords strained and jangled?
God's in His heaven!
Tangled threads are for Love's fingers,
Trembling chords make heaven's sweet singers.
All's well! All's well!
All's ... well!
Is the burden past your bearing?
God's in His heaven!
Hopeless?--Friendless?--No one caring?
God's in His heaven!
Burdens shared are light to carry,
Love shall come though long He tarry.
All's well! All's well!
All's ... well!
Is the light for ever failing?
God's in His heaven!
Is the faint heart ever quailing?
God's in His heaven!
God's strong arms are all around you,
In the dark He sought and found you.
All's well! All's well!
All's ... well!
Is the future black with sorrow?
God's in His heaven!
Do you dread each dark to-morrow?
God's in His heaven!
Nought can come without His knowing.
Come what may 'tis His bestowing.
All's well! All's well!
All's ... well!
Peace and heaven lie all about us.
God's in His heaven!
Peace within makes heaven without us.
God's in His heaven!
God's great love shall fail us never,
We are His, and His for ever.
All's well! All's well!
All's ... well!
HIS MERCY ENDURETH FOR EVER
Our feet have wandered, wandered far and wide,--
_His mercy endureth for ever_!
From that strait path in which the Master died,--
_His mercy endureth for ever_!
Low have we fallen from our high estate,
Long have we lingered, lingered long and late;
_But the tenderness of God
Is from age to age the same,
And His Mercy endureth for ever_!
There is no sin His Love can not forgive;--
_His mercy endureth for ever_!
No soul so stained His Love will not receive;
_His mercy endureth for ever_!
No load of sorrow but His touch can move,
No hedge of thorns that can withstand His Love;
_For the tenderness of God
Is from age to age the same,
And His Mercy endureth for ever_!
So we will sing, whatever may betide;--
_His mercy endureth for ever_!
Nought but ourselves can keep us from His side;--
_His mercy endureth for ever_!
What though no place we win in life's rough race,
Our loss may prove the measure of His grace.
_For the tenderness of God
Is from age to age the same,
And His Mercy endureth for ever_!
GOD IS GOOD
I faced a future all unknown,
No opening could I see,
I heard without the night wind moan,
The ways were dark to me,--
"I cannot face it all alone
O be Thou near to me!"
I had done sums, and sums, and sums,
Inside my aching head.
I'd tried in vain to pierce the glooms
That lay so thick ahead.
But two and two will not make five,
Nor will do when I'm dead.
And then I thought of Him who fed
Five thousand hungry men,
With five small casual loaves of bread,--
Would he were here again!--
Dear God! hast Thou still miracles
For the troubled sons of men?
He has, He will, He worketh still,
In ways most wonderful.
He drew me from the miry clay,
He filled my cup quite full.
And while my heart can speak I'll tell
His love unspeakable.
"Rest in the Lord!"--I saw it there,
On the tablets of the night.
And, comforted, I dropped my care
Where burdens have no weight.
Then, trustfully, I turned and slept,
And woke, and it was light.
God works to-day as He did of old
For the lightening of men's woes.
His wonders never can be told,
His goodness no man knows,--
His Love, His Power, His Tenderness,--
Nor shall do till life's close.
His kindness is so very great,
His greatness is so good.
He looks upon my low estate,
He gives me daily food.
And nothing is too small for Him,--
Yes, truly! God is good.
SOME--AND SOME
Some have much, and some have more,
Some are rich, and some are poor,
Some have little, some have less,
Some have not a cent to bless
Their empty pockets, yet possess
True riches in true happiness.
THE PRINCE OF LIFE
O, Prince of Life, Thy Life hath tuned
All life to sweeter, loftier grace!
Life's common rounds have wider bounds
Since Thou hast trod life's common ways.
O, Heart of Love! Thy Tenderness
Still runs through life's remotest vein;
And lust and greed and soulless creed
Shall never rule the world again.
O Life of Love!--The Good Intent
Of God to man made evident,--
All down the years, despite men's fears,
Thy Power is still omnipotent.
O Life! O Love! O Living Word!--
Rent Vail, revealing God to man,--
Help, Lord! Lest I should crucify,
By thought or deed, Thy Love again.
JUDGMENT DAY
Every day is Judgment Day,
Count on no to-morrow.
He who will not, when he may,
Act to-day, to-day, to-day,
Doth but borrow
Sorrow.
DARKNESS AND LIGHT
There is darkness still, gross darkness, Lord,
On this fair earth of Thine.
There are prisoners still in the prison-house,
Where never a light doth shine.
There are doors still bolted against Thee,
There are faces set like a wall;
And over them all the Shadow of Death
Hangs like a pall.
_Do you hear the voices calling,
Out there in the black of the night?
Do you hear the sobs of the women,
Who are barred from the blessed light?
And the children,--the little children,--
Do you hear their pitiful cry?
O brothers, we must seek them,
Or there in the dark they die_!
Spread the Light! Spread the Light!
Till earth's remotest bounds have heard
The glory of the Living Word;
Till those that see not have their sight;
Till all the fringes of the night
Are lifted, and the long-closed doors
Are wide for ever to the Light.
Spread--the--Light!
_O then shall dawn the golden days,
To which true hearts are pressing;
When earth's discordant strains shall blend--
The one true God confessing;
When Christly thought and Christly deed
Shall bind each heart and nation,
In one Grand Brotherhood of Men,
And one high consecration_.
INDIA
A land of lights and shadows intervolved,
A land of blazing sun and blackest night,
A fortress armed, and guarded jealously,
With every portal barred against the Light.
A land in thrall to ancient mystic faiths,
A land of iron creeds and gruesome deeds,
A land of superstitions vast and grim,
And all the noisome growths that Darkness breeds.
Like sunny waves upon an iron-bound coast,
The Light beats up against the close-barred doors,
And seeks vain entrance, yet beats on and on,
In hopeful faith which all defeat ignores.
But--time shall come, when, like a swelling tide,
The Word shall leap the barriers, and The Light
Shall sweep the land; and Faith and Love and Hope
Shall win for Christ this stronghold of the night.
LIVINGSTONE
To lift the sombre fringes of the Night,
To open lands long darkened to the Light,
To heal grim wounds, to give the blind new sight,
Right mightily wrought he.
Forth to the fight he fared,
High things and great he dared,
He thought of all men but himself,
Himself he never spared.
He greatly loved--
He greatly lived--
And died right mightily.
Like Him he served, he walked life's troublous ways,
With heart undaunted, and with calm, high face,
And gemmed each day with deeds of sweetest grace;
Pull lovingly wrought he.
Forth to the fight he fared,
High things and great he dared,
In His Master's might, to spread the Light,
Right lovingly wrought he.
He greatly loved--
He greatly lived--
And died right mightily.
Like him he served, he would not turn aside;
Nor home nor friends could his true heart divide;
He served his Master, and naught else beside,
Right faithfully wrought he.
Forth to the fight he fared,
High things and great he dared,
In His Master's might, to spread the Light,
Right faithfully wrought he.
He greatly loved--
He greatly lived--
And died right mightily.
He passed like light across the darkened land,
And dying, left behind him this command,
"The door is open! So let it ever stand!"
Full mightily wrought he.
Forth to the fight he fared,
High things and great he dared,
In His Master's might, to spread the Light,
Right mightily wrought he.
He greatly loved--
He greatly lived--
And died right mightily.
LIVINGSTONE THE BUILDER
_With a will!
With a will!
With a will and surely!
Without fail,
Drive each nail,
Build we so, securely_!
The Pioneer,--the Undaunted One,
Worn with long journeyings through the Great Dark Land,
Rests for a season from his mighty labours,
And seeks fresh vigour in a change of toil.
_Labour is sweet,
When hands and hearts are willing,--
Who truly works
Is God's own law fulfilling_.
With his own hands he helps to build a temple,
Here, in the wilds, a temple to his God,
Rough-hewn and roughly thatched, but still a house
Of prayer, a holy place, and consecrate
To Him whose noblest temples are not built
With hands, but in the opened hearts of men.
_The Master worked,
With His own hands expressing
His sure belief
That therein lay God's blessing_.
Thus, as he toils, with axe, and nail, and hammer,
His heart rejoices,--so the Master worked,
And by His lowly toil for ever stamped
True labour with its highest dignity.
_With a will!
With a will!
With a will and surely!
Without fail,
Drive each nail,
Build we so, securely_!
LIVINGSTONE'S SOLILOQUY
"My heart to-day
Is strangely full of home!
How is it
With the dear ones over there?
Five years!
Five long-drawn years!
And one short moment is enough
To alter life's complexion for eternity!
Home! Home! Home!
* * * * *
How is it with you all
At Home?
* * * * *
And you, my dearest one,
Are ever nearer to me than the rest!
Your body lies
Beneath the baobab
In far Shapanga;
But your soul is ever nearest
When I need you most.
Where a man's treasure is
His heart is.
And half my heart is buried there with you,
And half works on for Africa.
Home! Home! Home!
* * * * *
Why should such thought of home
Drag at my heart to-day?
Why should I longer roam?
Why should I not go home?
Five years of toilsome wanderings
May claim a rest!
* * * * *
Nay! God knows best!
When He sees well
He'll take me home and give me well-earned rest.
The work is not yet done.
This land of Night
Is not yet fully opened to the Son
And His fair Light.
But--when the work is done--
Ah--then!--how gladly will I go--
Home!--Home--Home!--
To rest!"
KAPIOLANI
Where the great green combers break in thunder on the barrier reefs,--
Where, unceasing, sounds the mighty diapason of the deep,--
Ringed in bursts of wild wave-laughter, ringed in leagues of flying
foam,--
Long lagoons of softest azure, curving beaches white as snow,
Lap in sweetness and in beauty all the isles of Owhyhee.
Land more lovely sun ne'er shone on than these isles of Owhyhee,
Spendthrift Nature's wild profusion fashioned them like fairy bowers;
Yet behind--below the sweetness,--underneath the passion-flowers,
Lurked grim deeds, and things of horror, grisly Deaths, and ceaseless
Fears,
Fears and Deaths that walked in Darkness, grisly Deaths and ceaseless
Fears.
NOTE.--Kapiolani--pronounced Kah-pee-o-lah-ny, with slight accent on
second syllable.
Mauna Loa--Mona Lo-ah.
Kilauea--Kil-o-ee-ah.
Halé-Mau-Mau--Ha-lee-Mah-oo-Mah-oo.
On the slope of Mauna Loa, in the pit of Kilauea,
In the lake of molten lava, in the sea of living fire,
In the place of Ceaseless Burnings, in her home of Wrath and Terror,
Dwelt the dreadful goddess Pélé--Pélé of the Lake of Fire;
Pélé of the place of torment, Pélé of the Lake of Fire.
In the dim far-off beginnings, Pélé flung the islands up
From the bottom of the ocean, from the darksome underworld;
Built them for a house to dwell in, built them for herself alone,
So she claimed them and their people, claimed them as her very own,
And they feared her, and they worshipped--
Pélé, the Remorseless One.
But, at times, when she lay sleeping, underneath the lake of fire,
They forgot to do her reverence, they forgot the fiery one;
Then in wrath the goddess thundered from the Lake of Ceaseless
Burnings,
Flamed and thundered in her anger, till the very skies were red,
Poured black ruin on the island, shook it to its rocky bed.
Then in fear the people trembled and bethought them of their sins,
And the great high priest of Pélé came like Death down Mauna Loa,
Came to soothe the awful goddess, came to choose the sacrifice,
Chose the fairest youth or maiden, pointed with a deadly finger,
Led them weeping up the mountain, victims to the Lake of Fire.
On the snowy beach of coral, youths and maidens full of laughter,
Flower-bedecked and full of laughter, sported gaily in the sun;
Up above, the slender palm-trees swung and shivered in the trade-wind,
All around them flowers and spices,--red hibiscus, sweet pandanus,
And behind, the labouring mountain groaned and growled unceasingly.
"_Sea and sunshine,
Care is moonshine,
All our hearts are light with laughter.
We are free
As sun and sea,
What care we for what comes after?"
Bride.
"Life was sweet before Love found her,
In his faery bowers.
Life is sweeter,
And completer,
Since he found her,
There, and crowned her
With his fadeless flowers."
Bridegroom.
"Love sought long before he found her,
Ne'er was love like ours!
Long he sought her,
E'er he caught her.
But he found her
There, and bound her
With his fadeless flowers."
"Gaily sporting,
Pleasure courting,
Nought know we of care or sorrow.
We are free
As sun and sea,
What care we what comes to-morrow_?"
Louder still and louder, Pélé roars within her lake of fire,
And the youths and maidens trembling look in fear up Mauna Loa,
Dreading sight of that grim figure stalking down the mountain side;
For when Pélé claims her victims none the summons may avoid.
Pélé calls for whom she chooses--whom she chooses goes,--and dies.
See! He comes! They start in terror. There, along the mountain side,
Death comes stalking, slowly, surely,--_Pélé must be satisfied_.
Which among them will he summon, with his dreadful pointing finger?
All their hearts become as water, all their faces blanch with fear,
Deaths they suffer in the waiting, while dread Death draws near.
Now he stands in dreadful menace, seeking with a baleful eye
For the sweetest and the fairest--for the meetest sacrifice.
"Choose, O choose!"--they cry in terror; "choose your victim and be
gone,
For we each die deaths while waiting, till dread Pélé's choice be
known!
Choose your victim, Priest of Pélé, choose your victim and be gone!"
Slowly points the dreadful finger, marks the newly-wedded bride;
All the rest, save one, fall from her, as the living from the dead.
From the first of time's beginnings Pélé ne'er has been gainsayed;
Pélé chooses whom she chooses, each and all the choice abide,
For the common good and safety,--_Pélé must be satisfied_!
Still the mountain reels and shudders, still the awful thunders peal,
Like a snake the ruthless finger holds them all in terror still;
One is there whose life is broken, parted from his chosen bride,
But the threatening finger, heedless of the lives it may divide,
Lights upon a tiny maiden,--_Pélé must be satisfied_!
Slow, the grim high-priest of Pélé turns to climb the mountain side;
Slow, the victims turn and follow,--_Pélé must be satisfied_.
And the rest shrink, dumb and helpless, daring not to lift an eye,
And beyond, the labouring mountain cracks and belches living fires,
Till the island reels and shudders at dread Pélé's agonies.
But a greater one than Pélé walked the mountain side that day;--
To them, climbing, dumb and dim-eyed--like a flash of heavenly flame,
Swift and bright as saving angel, fair Kapiolani came,
Swiftly as a saving angel, gleaming like a heavenly flame,
Thirsting like a sword for battle, fair Kapiolani came.
Radiant with the faith of martyrs, all aglow with new-born zeal,
Burning to release the people from the bondage and the thrall,
From the deadly thrall of Pélé, from the ever-threatening doom,
From the everlasting menace, from the awful lake of fire,
Like a bright avenging angel fair Kapiolani came!
"Hear me now, you priest of Pélé, and ye men of Owhyhee!
Hearken! ye who cringe and tremble, at the sound of Kilauea,
Fearful of the wrath of Pélé, fearful of the lake of fire!--
Priest, I say there is no Pélé! Pélé is not--never was!
Pélé lives but in your legends--there is only one true God!"
"Curséd, thrice accurséd, you who thus great Pélé do defy,
Here, upon her sacred mountain, of a surety you shall die!
Pélé, mighty Pélé, Vengeance! Strike her with thy dreadful doom!
So let every scoffer perish!--Pélé! Pélé! Pélé! come!"
And Kapiolani answered--"Pélé! Pélé! Pélé! come!"
Loud the mountain roared and thundered; shuddered all who heard and
saw,
Dauntless stood Kapiolani, dauntless with her faithful few.
"Come!" she cried again. "Come, Pélé! Smite me with thy dreadful doom!
I am waiting, mighty Pélé!--Pélé! Pélé! Pélé! come!"
And the mountain roared and thundered;--but the goddess did not come.
"Hearken, Priest! You have deceived us. All your life has been a lie,
Black your heart is, red your hands are, with the blood of those who
die.
All these years you have misled us with your awful threats of doom.
Now it ends! I do defy you, and your goddess I defy.
Pélé, is not, never has been. All your worship is a lie.
"I will climb your sacred mountain. I will dare your lake of fire.
I will eat your sacred berries. I will dare your goddess there,
There and then to wreak her vengeance, then and there to come in fire,
And with awful burnings end me, now and for eternity;
But if Pélé does not end me, then her worship ends this day."
Then the great high priest of Pélé turned to fiery Kilauea.
"Come!" he said, "the goddess calls you!"--and they climbed the
mountain side,
Up the slopes of Mauna Loa, to the hell of Kilauea,
With the bright blue sky above them, with the blazing sun above them,
While the mountain shook beneath them, and its head was wrapped in
fire.
Fearful, hopeful, all the people crept along the shaking path,
Hardly breathing at their daring, thus to brave dread Pélé's wrath,
Bending low lest she should see them, breathing soft lest she should
hear,
Certain that Kapiolani would be sacrificed that day,
To the vengeance of the goddess, to the anger of Pélé.