Christ.--I. Corinthians, iii. 10, 11.
Why build ye on the unsteady sand,
A worthless house that cannot stand?
Behold, in winter’s stormy day,
That frail support will glide away,
And rising billows lightly sweep
Your fortress to the yawning deep.
God hath a sure _foundation_ given,
Fix’d as the firm decrees of heaven:
The changeless, everlasting rock,
That braves the storm, and bides the shock;
There build: the gates of hell in vain
Against that rock their war maintain.
Christ is the rock, the corner stone,
Faith rears her beauteous house thereon;
Adorn’d with works of willing love,
And pointing to the scenes above;
Where faith and hope their sway resign,
Swallow’d in sight and joy divine.
_Charlotte Elizabeth._
I built my house upon a rock,
(Faith’s strong _foundation_ firm and sure,)
Fixed my abode, the heaviest shock
Of time and tempest to endure.
Nor small, nor large, nor low, nor high,
Midway it stands upon the steep,
Beneath the storm-mark of the sky,
Above the flood-mark of the deep.
And here I humbly wait, while He
Who pluck’d me from the lowest hell,
Prepares a heavenly house for me,
And calls me hence with Him to dwell.
_J. Montgomery._
FOUNTAIN.
How excellent is thy loving-kindness, O God! therefore the children of
men put their trust under the shadow of thy wings.
For with thee is the _fountain_ of life: in thy light shall we see
light.--Psalm xxxvi. 7, 9.
In that day there shall be a _fountain_ opened to the house
of David and to the inhabitants of Jerusalem for sin and for
uncleanness.--Zechariah, xiii. 1.
I am Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the end. I will give
unto him that is athirst of the _fountain_ of the water of life
freely.--Revelation, xxi. 6.
He set before him spread
A table of celestial food divine,
Ambrosial fruits, fetched from the tree of life,
And from the _fount_ of life ambrosial drink.
_Milton._
Abused mortals! did you know
Where joy, heart’s-ease, and comforts grow,
You’d scorn proud towers,
And seek them in these bowers,
Where winds sometimes our woods perhaps may shake,
But blustering care could never tempest make,
Nor murmurs e’er come nigh us,
Saving of _fountains_ that glide by us.
_Sir Walter Raleigh._
How free the _fountain_ flows
Of endless life and joy!
The spring which no confinement knows,
Whose waters never cloy.
How sweet the accents sound
From the Redeemer’s tongue!
Assemble all ye nations round
In one obedient throng.
Ho, every thirsty soul
Approach the sacred spring,
Drink, and your fainting spirits cheer,
Renew the draught and sing.
_Doddridge._
Why should the soul a drop bemoan,
Who has a _fountain_ near,--
A _fountain_ which shall ever run
With waters sweet and clear?
_Ryland._
FRAILTY.
Lord, make me to know mine end, and the measure of my days, what it is;
that I may know how _frail_ I am.--Psalm xxxix. 4.
But man with _frailty_ is allied by birth.
_Bishop Lowth._
By nature peccable and _frail_ are we,
Easily beguiled; to vice, to error prone;
But apt for virtue too. Humanity
Is not a field where tares and thorns alone
Are left to spring; good seed hath there been sown
With no unsparing hand. Sometimes the shoot
Is choked with weeds, or withers on a stone;
But in a kindly soil it strikes its root,
And flourisheth, and bringeth forth abundant fruit.
_Southey._
“How meanly dwells th’ immortal mind!
How vile these bodies are!
Why was a clod of earth designed
T’ enclose a heavenly star?
“Weak cottage where our souls reside,
This flesh a tott’ring wall;
With frightful breaches gaping wide,
The building bends to fall.
“All round it storms of trouble blow,
And waves of sorrow roll;
Cold waves and winter storms beat through,
And pain the tenant soul.
“Alas! how _frail_ our state!” said I;
And thus went mourning on,
Till sudden from the cleaving sky
A gleam of glory shone.
My soul felt all the glory come,
And breathed her native air;
Then she remembered heaven, her home,
And she a prisoner here.
Straight she begun to change her key,
And joyful in her pains,
She sang the _frailty_ of her clay
In pleasurable strains.
_Watts._
FREEDOM.
He that is called in the Lord, being a servant, is the Lord’s
_freeman_: likewise also he that is called, being _free_, is Christ’s
servant.--I. Corinthians, vii. 22.
And ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you
_free_.--John, viii. 32.
If the Son therefore shall make you _free_, ye shall be _free_
indeed.--John, viii. 36.
As _free_, and not using your liberty for a cloak of maliciousness, but
as the servants of God.--I. Peter, ii. 16.
_Freely_ we serve,
Because we _freely_ love, as in our will
To love or not; in this we stand or fall.
_Milton._
Yet gave me in this dark estate
To see the good from ill,
And, binding Nature fast in fate,
Left _free_ the human will.
_Pope._
Placed for his trial on this bustling stage,
From thoughtless youth to ruminating age,
_Free_ in his will to choose or to refuse,
Man may improve the crisis, or abuse;
Else, on the fatalist’s unrighteous plan,
Say to what bar amenable were man?
With nought in charge he could betray no trust;
And if he fell, would fall because he must;
If Love reward him, or if Vengeance strike,
His recompense in both unjust alike.
_Cowper._
Grace leads the right way: if you choose the wrong,
Take it and perish, but restrain your tongue;
Charge not, with light sufficient, and left _free_,
Your wilful suicide on God’s decree.
_Cowper._
True _freedom_ is where no restraint is known
That scripture, justice, and good sense disown,
Where only vice and injury are tied,
And all from shore to shore is _free_ beside.
_Cowper._
Where had been
The test of faith if the expanded arm
Of Heaven, in glory and in power displayed,
Had curbed the _freedom_ of the human will,
Nor left the scope of choice!
_Samuel Hayes._
If, with streamy radiance, God
Had dazzling beamed upon His creatures’ eyelids,
And shown Himself to their unbandaged view,
And with a voice divine to us had spoken,
Destroying in our hearts the wondrous balance,
(Man ceasing to be man had lost his _freedom_,)
Our soul would not have struggled with our senses,
And void of _freedom_ what would virtue be?
_Pulling, from Lamartine._
For what is _freedom_, but the unfettered use
Of all the powers which God for use had given?
But chiefly this, Him first, Him last to view
Through meaner powers and secondary things
Effulgent, as through clouds that veil His blaze.
_Coleridge._
Man (ingenious to contrive his woe,
And rob himself of all that makes this vale
Of tears bloom comfort) cries, If God foresees
Our future actings, then the objects known
Must be determined, or the knowledge fail:
Thus liberty’s destroyed, and all we do
Or suffer, by a fatal thread is spun.
Say, fool, with too much subtilty misled,
Who reasonest but to err, does Prescience change
The property of things? Is aught thou seest
Caused by thy vision, not thy vision caused
By forms that previously exist? To God
This mode of seeing future deeds extends,
And _freedom_ with foreknowledge may exist.
_George Bally._
In a service which Thy will appoints
There are no bonds for me;
For my inmost heart is taught “the truth”
That makes thy children “_free_;”
And a life of self-renouncing love
Is a life of liberty.
_A. L. Waring._
FRIENDSHIP.
A _friend_ loveth at all times.--Proverbs, xvii. 17.
A man that hath _friends_ must shew himself _friendly_: and there is a
_friend_ that sticketh closer than a brother.--Proverbs, xviii. 24.
The Son of man came eating and drinking, and they say, Behold a man
gluttonous, and a winebibber, a _friend_ of publicans and sinners. But
wisdom is justified of her children.--Matthew, xi. 19.
Ye adulterers and adulteresses, know ye not that the _friendship_ of
the world is enmity with God? whosoever therefore will be a _friend_ of
the world is the enemy of God.--James, iv. 4.
O world, thy slippery turns! _Friends_ now fast sworn,
Whose double bosoms seem to wear one heart;
Whose hours, whose bed, whose meat, and exercise,
Are still together; who twin, as ’t were, in love,
Unseparable, shall within this hour,
On a dissension of a doit, break out
To bitterest enmity: so, fellest foes,
Whose passions and whose plots have broke their sleep,
To take the one the other, by some chance,
Some trick not worth an egg, shall grow dear _friends_,
And interjoin their issues.
_Shakspere._
Each _friend_ by fate snatched from us, is a plume
Plucked from the wing of human vanity,
Which makes us stoop from our aerial heights,
And, damped with omen of our own decease,
On drooping pinions of ambition lowered,
Just skim earth’s surface, ere we break it up;
O’er putrid earth to scratch a little dust,
And save the world a nuisance.
_Young._
Heaven gives us _friends_ to bless the present scene;
Resumes them to prepare us for the next.
_Young._
Celestial happiness! Whene’er she stoops
To visit earth, one shrine the goddess finds,
And one alone, to make her sweet amends
For absent heaven,--the bosom of a _friend_,
Where heart meets heart, reciprocally soft,
Each other’s pillow to repose divine.
_Young._
A _friend_ is worth all hazards we can run,
Poor is the _friendless_ master of a world;
A world in purchase of a _friend_ is gain.
_Dr. Young._
_Friend_ of the _friendless_ and the faint!
Where should I lodge my deep complaint?
Where, but with Thee, whose open door
Invites the helpless and the poor?
Did ever mourner plead with Thee,
And Thou refuse that mourner’s plea?
Does not that word still fixed remain,
That “none shall seek thy face in vain?”
_Cowper._
To bless mankind with tides of flowing wealth,
With power to grace them, or to crown with health,
Our little lot denies; but Heaven decrees
To all, the gift of minist’ring to ease:
The gentle offices of patient love,
Beyond all flattery, and all praise above;
The mild forbearance of another’s fault,
The taunting word suppress’d as soon as thought;
On these Heaven bade the sweets of life depend;
And crush’d ill fortune when she gave a _friend_.
A solitary blessing few can find;
Our joys with those we love are intertwined;
And he whose wakeful tenderness removes
Th’ obstructing thorn which wounds the breast he loves,
Smoothes not another’s rugged path alone,
But scatters roses to adorn his own.
_Hannah More._
There is a _Friend_, more tender, true,
Than brother e’er can be,
Who, when all others bid adieu,
Remains--the last to flee;
Who, be their pathway bright or dim,
Deserts not those who turn to Him.
The heart by Him sustained, though deep
Its anguish, still can bear!
The soul He condescends to keep,
Shall never know despair;
In nature’s weakness, sorrow’s night,
God is its strength, its joy, its light.
_Barton._
_Friend_ after _friend_ departs;
Who hath not lost a _friend_?
There is no union here of hearts
That finds not here an end;
Were this frail world our final rest,
Living or dying none were blest.
_J. Montgomery._
_Friendship_, thou charmer of the mind,
Thou sweet deluding ill,
The brightest minute mortals find,
And sharpest hour we feel.
Fate has divided all our shares
Of pleasure and of pain;
In love the comforts and the cares
Are mixed and joined again.
But whilst in floods our sorrow rolls,
And drops of joy are few,
This dear delight of mingling souls
Serves but to swell our woe.
Oh! why should bliss depart in haste,
And _friendship_ stay to moan?
Why the fond passion cling so fast,
When every joy is gone?
Yet never let our hearts divide,
Nor death dissolve the chain;
For love and joy were once allied,
And must be joined again.
_Watts._
Christ had His _friends_--His eye could trace
In the long train of coming years,
The chosen children of His grace,
The full reward of all His tears.
These are _friends_, and these are thine,
If thou to Him hast bowed the knee;
And where these ransomed millions shine
Shall thy eternal mansion be.
_Anonymous._
In yonder bright clime Christian _friendships_ of earth
Shall live through eternity’s day,
Shall blossom like plants in the land of their birth,
But never to suffer decay.
_W. J. Brock._
GAIN.
What shall it profit a man, if he shall _gain_ the whole world, and
lose his own soul.--Mark, viii. 36.
For me to live is Christ, and to die is _gain_.--Philippians, i. 21.
But what things were _gain_ to me, those I counted loss for
Christ.--Philippians, iii. 7.
Godliness with contentment is great _gain_.--I. Timothy, vi. 6.
Go to now, ye that say, To-day or to-morrow we will go into such a
city, and continue there a year, and buy and sell, and get _gain_.
Whereas ye know not what shall be on the morrow.--James, iv. 13, 14.
I left the God of truth and light,
I left the God who gave me breath,
To wander in the wilds of night,
And perish in the snares of death.
In riches when I sought for joy,
And placed in sordid _gain_ my trust,
I found that gold was all alloy,
And worldly pleasures fleeting dust.
_J. Montgomery._
The Christian knows each cloud of grief
Bears impress of his God;
That love, he knows, will send relief
Which sends the chastening rod.
He suffers still:--God doth not spare;
But, lo, He soothes his grief!--
The Christian has a cross to bear,--
But has a Christ’s relief!
A crown was purchased by his cross,
A Paradise by pain;
And for His sake, each present loss
Shall yield eternal _gain_.
_Anon._
No more, my God, I boast no more
Of all the duties I have done;
I quit the hopes I held before,
To trust the merits of Thy Son.
Now for the love I bear His name,
What was my _gain_ I count my loss;
My former pride I call my shame,
And nail my glory to His cross.
_Watts._
GARDEN--EDEN--GETHSEMANE.
And the Lord God planted a _garden_ eastward in _Eden_; and there he
put the man whom he had formed.--Genesis, ii. 8.
Then cometh Jesus with them unto a place called _Gethsemane_, and saith
unto his disciples, Sit ye here, while I go and pray yonder.--Matthew,
xxvi. 36.
Jesus went forth with his disciples over the brook Cedron, where was a
_garden_, into the which he entered, and his disciples.--John, xviii. 1.
In the place where he was crucified there was a _garden_; and in the
_garden_ a new sepulchre, wherein was never man yet laid.
There laid they Jesus.--John, xix. 41, 42.
The mighty Lord of heaven and earth,
By Gihon’s pure and placid stream,
That from the new-born hills came forth,
To sparkle in the sun’s young beam--
Upraised, all lovely as a dream
To hearts of holy feeling given,
The _garden_-bowers with joy that teem
For the peculiar wards of heaven:--
For man and woman--blessed pair!
In innocence and beauty made:
With sinless lips to breathe the air,
Whose odorous gales around them played;
With hearts as pure as dew-drops laid
Within the rose’s virgin breast;
With souls that never felt a shade
Of gloom upon their prospects rest.
_Knox._
Bring the thrilling scene
Home to thine inmost soul:--the sufferer’s cry,
“Father, if it be possible, this cup
Take thou away.--Yet not my will but thine:”
The sleeping friends who could not watch one hour,
The torch, the flashing sword, the traitor’s kiss,
The astonished angel, with the tear of Heaven
Upon his cheek, still striving to assuage
Those fearful pangs that bowed the Son of God,
Like a bruised reed. Thou who hast power to look
Thus at _Gethsemane_, be still! be still!
What are thine insect-woes, compared to His
Who agonizeth there? Count thy brief pains
As the dust atom on life’s chariot-wheels,
And in a Saviour’s grief forget them all.
_Mrs. Sigourney._
The palm--the vine--the cedar--each hath power
To bid fair oriental shapes glance by,
And each quick glistening of the laurel bower
Waft Grecian images, o’er fancy’s eye:
But thou, pale olive! in thy branches lie
Far deeper spells than prophet grove of old
Might e’er enshrine:--I could not hear thee sigh
To the wind’s faintest whisper, nor behold
One shiver of thy leaves’ dim silvery green,
Without high thoughts and solemn of that scene
When in the _Garden_ the Redeemer prayed--
When pale stars looked upon His fainting head,
And angels, ministering in silent dread,
Trembled, perchance, within thy trembling shade.
_Hemans._
How vainly men themselves amaze
To win the palm, the oak, or bays;
And their incessant labours see
Crowned from some single herb or tree,
Whose short and narrow-verged shade
Does prudently their toils upbraid;
While all the flowers and trees do close
To weave the garlands of repose.
Fair Quiet, have I found thee here,
And Innocence, thy sister dear?
Mistaken long, I sought you then
In busy companies of men.
Your sacred plants, if here below,
Only among the plants will grow.
Society is all but rude
In this delicious solitude.
Here at the fountain’s sliding foot,
As at some fruit tree’s mossy root,
Casting the body’s vest aside,
My soul into the boughs does glide;
There, like a bird, it sits and sings,
Then whets, and claps its silver wings;
And, till prepared for longer flight,
Waves in its plumes the various light.
How well the skilful _gard’ner_ drew
Of flow’rs and herbs the dial new,
Where from above the milder sun
Does through a fragrant zodiac run:
And, as it works, the industrious bee
Computes the time, as well as we.
How could such sweet and wholesome hours
Be reckoned, but with herbs and flowers.
_Andrew Marvell._
In a _garden_--man was placed,
Meet abode for innocence,
With his Maker’s image graced:
--Sin crept in and drove him thence,
Through the world, a wretch undone,
Seeking rest and finding none.
In a _garden_--on that night
When our Saviour was betrayed,
With what world-redeeming might,
In his agony he prayed!
Till he drank the vengeance up,
And with mercy filled the cup.
In a _garden_--on the cross,
When the spear His heart had riven,
And for earth’s primeval loss
Heaven’s best ransom had been given,
Jesus rested from His woes,
Jesus from the dead arose.
Emblem of the church above!
Where, as in their native clime,
’Midst the _garden_ of His love,
Rescued from the rage of time,
Saints, as trees of life shall stand,
Planted by His own right hand.
_J. Montgomery._
GENTLENESS.
Thou hast also given me the shield of thy salvation: and thy
_gentleness_ hath made me great.--II. Samuel, xxii. 36.
Now I Paul myself beseech you by the meekness and _gentleness_ of
Christ.--II. Corinthians, x. 1.
But we were _gentle_ among you, even as a nurse cherisheth her
children.--I. Thessalonians, ii. 7.
The servant of the Lord must not strive; but be _gentle_ unto all men,
apt to teach, patient.--II. Timothy, ii. 24.
_Gently_ I took that which _ungently_ came,
And without scorn forgave:--Do thou the same.
A wrong done to thee think a cat’s eye spark,
Thou wouldest not see, were not thine own heart dark.
Thine own keen sense of wrong that thirsts for sin,
Fear that--the spark self-kindled from within,
Which blown upon will blind thee with its glare,
Or smother’d stifle thee with noisome air.
Clap on the extinguisher, pull up the blinds,
And soon the ventilated spirit finds
Its natural daylight. If a foe have kenn’d,
Or worse than foe, an alienated friend,
A rib of dry rot in thy ship’s stout side,
Think it God’s message, and in humble pride
With heart of oak replace it;--thine the gains--
Give him the rotten timber for his pains!
_Coleridge._
I’ve thought of all this pride, and all this pain,
And all the insolent plenitudes of power,
And I declare, by this most quiet hour,
Which holds in different tasks by the fire-light
She, and my friends here, this delightful night,
That power itself has not one half the might
Of _Gentleness_. ’Tis want to all true wealth;
The uneasy madman’s force, to the wise health;
Blind downward beating, to the eyes that see;
Noise to persuasion, doubt to certainty;
The consciousness of strength in enemies,
Who must be strain’d upon or else they rise;
The battle to the moon, who all the while,
High out of hearing, passes with her smile:
The tempest, trampled in his scanty run,
To the whole globe, that basks about the sun;
Or as all shrieks and clangs, with which a sphere,
Undone and fired, could rake the midnight ear,
Compared with that vast dumbness nature keeps
Throughout her starry deeps,
Most old, and mild, and awful, and unbroken,
Which tells a tale of peace beyond whate’er was spoken.
_Leigh Hunt._
Speak _gently_!--It is better far
To rule by love than fear--
Speak _gently_--let no harsh words mar
The good we might do here!
Speak _gently_--love doth whisper low
The vows that true hearts bind;
And _gently_ Friendship’s accents flow,--
Affection’s voice is kind.
Speak _gently_ to the little child!
Its love be sure to gain;
Teach it in accents soft and mild,
It may not long remain.
Speak _gently_ to the young, for they
Will have enough to bear;
Pass through this life as best they may,
’Tis full of anxious care!
Speak _gently_ to the aged one,
Grieve not the careworn heart;
The sands of life are nearly run,
Let such in peace depart.
Speak _gently_, kindly, to the poor--
Let no harsh word be heard;
They have enough they must endure,
Without an unkind word.
Speak _gently_ to the erring--know
They may have toiled in vain;
Perchance unkindness made them so;
Oh! win them back again.
_Anonymous._
GIVING.
Thou hast ascended on high, thou hast led captivity captive: thou hast
received _gifts_ for men; yea, for the rebellious also, that the Lord
God might dwell among them.--Psalm lxviii. 18.
That every man should eat and drink, and enjoy the good of all his
labour, it is the _gift_ of God.--Ecclesiastes, iii. 13.
The _gift_ of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our
Lord.--Romans, vi. 23.
Thanks be unto God for his unspeakable _gift_.--II. Corinthians, ix. 15.
The King of light, Father of aged time,
Hath brought about that day, which is the prime
To the slow gliding months, when every eye
Wears symptoms of a sober jollity;
And every hand is ready to present
Some service in a real compliment.
While some in golden letters write their love,
Some speak affection by a ring or glove,
Or pins and points, (for e’en the peasant may,
After his ruder fashion, be as gay
As the brisk courtly Sir,) and thinks that he
Cannot, without a gross absurdity,
Be this day frugal, and not spare his friend
Some _gift_, to show his love finds not an end
With the deceased year.
_Joshua Poole._
Who _gives_, constrained, but his own fear reviles;
Not thanked, but scorned; nor are they _gifts_, but spoils.
_Denham._
Cheap _gifts_ best fit poor _givers_. We are told
Of the lone mite, and cup of water cold,
That, in their way, approved the offerer’s zeal.
True love shows costliest where the means are scant,
And, in her reckoning, they abound who want.
_Charles Lamb._
Largely Thou _givest_, gracious Lord,
Largely Thy _gifts_ should be restored;
Freely Thou _givest_, and thy word
Is “Freely _give_.”
He only who forgets to hoard
Has learned to live.
_Keble._
GLORY.
And she named the child Ichabod, saying, The _glory_ is departed from
Israel.--I. Samuel, iv. 21.
Thou shalt guide me with thy counsel, and afterward receive me to
_glory_.--Psalm lxxiii. 24.
When the Lord shall build up Zion he shall appear in his
_glory_.--Psalm cii. 16.
The wise shall inherit _glory_.--Proverbs, iii. 35.
For men to search their own _glory_ is not _glory_.--Proverbs, xxv. 27.
Enter into the rock, and hide thee in the dust, for fear of the Lord,
and for the _glory_ of his majesty.--Isaiah, ii. 10.
T’ raise desert and virtue by my fortune,
Though in a low estate, were greater _glory_,
Than to mix greatness with a prince that owns
No worth but that name only.
_Massinger._
When our souls shall leave this dwelling,
The _glory_ of one fair and virtuous action
Is above all the scutcheons on our tomb,
Or silken banners over us.
_Shirley._