Poetical Works




F. R. Havergal




It is in answer to many requests that the various poems, hymns, and songs of Frances Ridley Havergal are comprised in this library edition. It will be obvious, there was some difficulty in selecting the order of their sequence.  We doubt not that the dear author’s own arrangement in ‘Ministry of Song,’ ‘Under the Surface,’ and ‘Loyal Responses,’ will be generally preferred, and consequently they remain intact. To group successfully poetic aspirations of such varied circumstances and ideas, ranging from the sweet simplicities of her songs for the little ones, to those higher soarings which seem to culminate in ‘The Thoughts of God,’ was indeed a problem.  And it is due to my dear sister’s memory to state distinctly that she never contemplated the publication of many impromptu verses, written to gratify young friends, or in the utterance of rapid imaginings.  When F. R. H. was arranging a selection for the first illustrated volume, ‘Life Mosaic,’ she submitted her poems to her poet friend, the Rev. R. Wilton, earnestly soliciting him to prune away with unsparing keenness ‘any of my weaker poems.’  And we are aware that other poet critics would prefer only the finer chords to be lasting echoes of F. R. H.


But there are many, oh, so many, who lovingly treasure even the spray of her pen, as well as the nobler waves of thought, and so we open and unseal all the manuscripts in her study drawers.  For some of her simpler utterances seem to go at once to the heart of those in humbler life, and their intellect can better grasp such thoughts than the loftier flights of her imagination.  By them it is not as a feast of intellect, but as heart cheer for home sorrows, that F. R. H.'s lowliest lays are prized.


The arrangement is subjective, not chronological. But in the Index will be found the dates and places of her poems; we are aware this is unusual, but it would seem as if her sunny presence and springing footsteps may thus still linger in our midst. It is with pleasure that I entrust to my dear niece, Frances Anna Shaw, the entire arrange­ment and revision of this complete and final edition. It was no slight labour to prepare the various dates and subdivide the numerous subjects into their present order. In shattered health, I thankfully accept my niece’s skilful labour. And we would bring these pages with loyal loving hand to the very feet of F. R. H.'s Master and King, re‑echoing words, which seem to float down from the golden heights where now my sister stands amid the upper choir, joining the service of high praise in the ‘Eternal Land:’


‘I have no words to bring

Worthy of Thee my King,

And yet one anthem in Thy praise

I long; I long to raise.’


One anthem’?  Have they not been countless? has not her silver refrain echoed and re-echoed till many an isolated and trembling one has taken up in a gathering and rejoicing chorus, ‘Unto Him that loved us, and washed us from our sins in His own blood, and hath made us kings and priests unto God and His Father; to Him be glory and dominion for ever and ever. Amen.’


And does not F. R. H.'s earliest prelude become a fitting closing chord to her life and poems, -


‘Amid the broken waters of our ever-restless thought,

Oh be my verse an answering gleam from higher radiance caught;

That when through dark o'erarching boughs of sorrow, doubt, and sin,

The glorious Star of Bethlehem upon the flood looks in,

Its tiny trembling ray may bid some downcast vision turn

To that enkindling Light, for which all earthly shadows yearn.

Oh be my verse a hidden stream, which silently may flow

Where drooping leaf and thirsty flower in lonely valleys grow;

And often by its shady course to pilgrim hearts he brought

The quiet and refreshment of an upward-pointing thought

Till, blending with the broad bright stream of sanctified endeavour,

God's glory he its ocean home, the end it seeketh ever.’






People do not understand me,

Their ideas are not like mine;

All advances seem to land me

Still outside their guarded shrine.


So you turn from simple joyance,

Loosing many a mutual good,

Weary with the chill annoyance

So to be misunderstood.


Let me try to lift the curtain

Hiding other hearts from view;

You complain, but are you certain

That the fault is not with you?


‘But my key-note,’ are you thinking.

‘Will not modulate to theirs?’

Seek! and subtle chords enlinking,

Soon shall blend the differing airs.


Fairly sought, some point of contact

There must be with every mind;

And, perchance, the closest compact

Where we least expect to find.


Perhaps the heart you meet so coldly

Burns with deepest lava-glow;

Wisely pierce the crust, and boldly,

And a fervid stream shall flow.


Dialects of love are many,

Though the language be but one;

Study all you can, or any,

While life’s precious school-hours run.


Closed the heart-door of thy brother,

All its treasures long concealed?

One key fails, then try another,

Soon the rusty lock shall yield.


Few have not some hidden trail,

And could symphathize with thine;

Do not take it as denial

That you see no outward sign.


Silence is no certain token

That no secret grief is there;

Sorrow which is never spoken

Is the heaviest load to bear.


Seldom can the heart be lonely,

If it seek a lonlier still,

Self-forgetting, seeking only

Emptier cups of love to fill.


‘T will not be fruitless labour,

Overcome this ill with good;

Try to understand your neighbour,

And you will be understood.




Nothing to pay! Ah, nothing to pay!

Never a word of excuse to say!

Year after year thou hast filled the score,

Owing thy Lord still more and more.

Hear the voice of Jesus say,

‘Verily thou hast nothing to pay!

Ruined, lost art thou, and yet

I forgive thee all that debt.’


Nothing to pay! The debt is so great;

What will you do with the awful weight?

How shall the way of escape be made?

Nothing to pay! Yet it must be paid!

Hear the voice of Jesus say,

‘Verily thou hast nothing to pay!

All has been put to my account,

I have paid the full amount.’


Nothing to pay; yes, nothing to pay!

Jesus has cleared all the debt away;

Blotted it out with His bleeding hand!

Free and forgiven and loved you stand.

Hear the voice of Jesus say,

‘Verily thou hast nothing to pay!

Paid is the debt, and the debtor free!

Now I ask thee, lovest thou Me?’




Valiant for the Truth


Ye should earnestly contend for the faith which was once delivered unto the saints.’ JUDE 3


UNFURL the Christian Standard!  Lift it manfully on high,

And rally where its shining folds wave out against the sky!

Away with weak half-heartedness, with faithlessness and fear!

Unfurl the Christian Standard, and follow with a cheer!


In God’s own name we set it up, this banner brave and bright,

Uplifted for the cause of Christ, the cause of Truth and Right;

The cause that none can overthrow, the cause that must prevail,

Because the Promise of the Lord can never, never fail!


Now, who is on the Lord’s side, who? Come throng His battle-field;

Be strong, and show that ye are men!  Come forth with sword and shield!

What peace, while traitorous Evil stalks in false array of light?

What peace, while enemies of Christ are gathering for the fight?


Unfurl the Christian Standard, with firm and fearless hands!

For no pale flag of compromise with Error’s legion bands,

And no faint-hearted flag of truce with Mischief and with Wrong,

Should lead the soldiers of the Cross, the faithful and the strong.


Unfurl the Christian Standard, and follow through the strife

The noble army who have won the martyr’s crown of life;

Our ancestors could die for Truth, could brave the deadly glow,

And shall we let the standard fall, and yield it to the foe?


But if ye dare not hold it fast, yours only is the loss,

For it shall be victorious, this Standard of the Cross!

It shall not suffer, though ye rest beneath your sheltering trees,

And cast away the victor’s crown for love of timid ease.


The Lord of Hosts, in whom alone our weakness shall be strong,

Shall lead us on to conquest with a mighty battle song;

And soon the warfare shall be past, the glorious triumph won,

The kingdoms of the world shall be the kingdoms of His Son!




Thine Eyes Shall See


Thine eyes shall see the king in his beauty: they shall behold a far stretching land:” (Isaiah 33: 17).


Thine eyes shall see!  Yes, thine, who, blind erewhile,

Now trembling towards the new-found light dost flee,

Leave doubting, and look up with trustful smile-

Thine eyes shall see!


Thine eyes shall see!  Not in some dream ELysian,

Not in thy fancy, glowing though it be,

Not e’en in faith, but in unveiled vision,

Thine eyes shall see!


Thine eyes shall see!  Not on thyself depend

God’s promises, the faithful, firm, and free;

Ere they shall fail, earth, heaven itself, must end:

Thine eyes shall see!


Thine eyes shall see!  Not in a swift glance cast,

Gleaning one ray to brighten memory,

But while a glad eternity shall last,

Thine eyes shall see!


Thine eyes shall see the King!  The very same

Whose love shone forth upon the curseful tree,

Who bore the guilt, who calleth thee by name;

Thine eyes shall see!


Thine eyes shall see the King! The mighty One,

The many- crowned, the Light enrobed; and He

Shall bid thee share the kingdom He hath won,

Thine eyes shall see!


And in His beauty!  Stay thee, mortal song,

The ‘altogether lovely’ One must be

Unspeakable in glory, - yet ere long

Thine eyes shall see!


Yes! Though the land be ‘very far’ away,

A step, a moment, ends the toil for thee;

Then, changing grief for gladness, night for day,

Thine eyes shall see!






Yes! He knows the way is dreary,

Knows the weakness of our frame,

Knows that hand and heart are weary;

He, ‘in all points,’ felt the same.

He is near to help and bless;

Be not weary, onward press. [Phil. 3: 14.]


Look to Him who once was willing

All His glory to resign,

That, for thee the law fulfilling,

All His merit might be thine.

Strive to follow day by day

Where His footsteps mark the way.


Look to Him, the Lord of glory,

Tasting death to win thy life;

Gazing on ‘that wonderous story,’

Canst thou falter in the strife?

Is it not new life to know

That the Lord hath loved thee so?


Look to Him who ever liveth,

Interceding for His own:

Seek, Yea, claim the grace He giveth

Freely from His priestly throne.

Will He not thy strength renew

With His Spirit’s quickening dew?


Look to Him, and faith shall brighten,

Hope shall soar, and love shall burn;

Peace once more thy heart shall lighten

Rise! He calleth thee, return!

Be not weary on the way,

Jesus is thy strength and stay.





God doth not bid thee wait

To disappoint at last;

A golden promise, fair and great,

In precept-mould is cast.

Soon shall the morning guild

The dark horizon-rim,

Thy heart’s desire shall be fulfilled,

Wait patiently for Him.’


The weary waiting times

Are but the muffled pearls

Low preluding celestial chimes,

That hail His chariot-wheels.

Trust Him to tune thy voice

To blend with seraphim;

His ‘wait’ shall issue in ‘rejoice!’

‘Wait patiently for Him.’


He doth not bid thee wait,

Like drift-wood on the wave,

For fickle chance of fixed fate

To ruin or to save.

Thine eyes shall surely see,

No distant hope or dim,

The Lord thy God arise for thee:

‘Wait patiently for Him.’






‘I thought I knew it!’ she said,

‘I thought I had learnt it quite!’

But the gentle Teacher shook her head,

With a grave yet loving light

In the eyes that fell on the upturned face,

As she gave the book

With the mark still set in the self-same place.


‘I thought I knew it!’ she said;

And a heavy tear fell down,

As she turned away with bending head,

Yet not for reproof or frown,

Not for the lesson to learn again,

Or the play-hour lost; -

It was something else that gave the pain.


She could not have put it in words,

But the Teacher understood,

As God understands the chirp of the birds

In the depth of an autumn wood.

And a quiet touch on the reddening cheek

Was quite enough;

No need to question, no need to speak.


Then the gentle voice was heard,

‘Now I will try you again!’

And the lesson was mastered, - every word!

Was it not worth the pain?

Was it not kinder the task to turn,

Than to let it pass,

As a lost, lost leaf that she did not learn?


Is it not often so,

That we only learn in part,

And the Master’s testing-time may show

That it was not quite ‘by heart’?

Then He gives, in His wise and patient grace,

That lesson again

With the mark still set in the self-same place.


Only, stay by His side

Till the page is really known,

It may be we failed because we tried,

To learn it all alone.

And now that He would not let us lose

One lesson of love

(For He knows the loss) – can we refuse?


But oh! How could we dream

That we knew it all so well?

Reading so fluently, as we deem,

What we could not even spell!

And Oh! How could we grieve once more

That patient One

Who has turned so many a task before?


That waiting One, who now

Is letting us try again;

Watching us with the patient brow

That bore the wreath of pain;

Thoroughly teaching what He would teach.

Line upon line,

Thoroughly doing His work in each.


Then let our hearts ‘be still,’

Though our task is turned to-day

Oh let Him teach us what He will,

In His own gracious way,

Till, sitting only at Jesu’s feet,

As we learn each line,

The hardest is found all clear and sweet






Oh pleasant have the hours of my early childhood been,

When all around me seemed enrobed in brightly glittering sheen;

When a thousand rainbow tints were in every simple flower,

And a thousand new delights came with every sunny hour;

When I thought the merry birds trilled their carols all for me,

And with heart and voice I joined in their joyous melody;

When all heedless of the darkening storm, I loved the purple cloud,

And listened with delight to the thunder pealing loud.

In those happy days of childhood, I did not think or see

That many trials might be waiting even then for me;

But now, though yet I meet them not, I know that they must stand

In many a varied shape or form, unseen on every hand.

As yet from weary troubles, thank God, I have been free;

Oh, surely there are few who have what is vouchsafed to me!

But one eclipse hath shadowed o’er my childhood’s sunny hours,

And now its sharpness seemeth past, that thorn ‘mid many flowers.

But still the saddening feeling cometh oftener than before,

That many a future sorrow e’en for me may be in store;

For all around me seem to have some wearying care or grief,

From which they scarcely dare to hope on earth to find relief.

And my memory loves to dwell upon the merry careless hours,

When I thought the world a thornless garden full of lovely flowers.





[From ‘unfinished fragments’. – Ed. ]


Arise, depart! For this is not your rest!’ [Heb. 4: 1, 8, 9.]

The Voice fell strangely on the sleeping fold, [Rev. 3: 2, 3]

As fell the starlight’s quivering gold

Upon the dusky lake’s untroubled breast,

And yet the Shepherd’s hand had led them there,

And made them to lie down amid the pastures fair.


‘Arise ye, and depart!’  The morning rays

Lift up the emerald slope and crystal pool,

Sweet sustenance for many days,

And quiet resting places, calm and cool.

They knew not why, nor whither, yet they went!

His own hand put them forth, and so they were content.



The Master will guide your weary feet,

Choosing for each, and choosing aright

[A rest remaining, from the summer heat;

For some  to see glory  on the Alpine height,]

And to feel the breezes fresh and free

And the changed charm of wave and sea.


And so they followed Him, they could not stay

After He had risen, they thought of another ‘Day,’

For some the hush and the soothing spells

Of harvest fields and woodland dells;

For some it may be the quiet gloom

Of the suffering couch in the shaded room.

Master, our Master, oh let it be

That our leisure and rest will then be with Thee,






How pleasant is the eventide

To walk with friends we love:

And think and speak of Him who died,

And who now reigns above.


Is there a subject half so sweet,

On which our thoughts could dwell?

No, ‘t is a theme for angels meet,

Though we of it may tell.


The beauties that around we see,

On this calm lovely eve,

Show forth His love to you and me,

If we this love believe.


The sunset paints the western sky

With colours fair and bright;

But we will raise our wondering eye

To scenes of heavenly light.


The clouds that round their Monarch stay

A light and radiance gain;

While those which tarry far away

Such brightness neer attain.


So those who, in this wilderness

Still near their Master stay,

The beauty gain of holiness,

Of heaven’s own light a ray.


Now, soon the darkening shades of night

Will o’er these scenes be thrown,

The sun’s last ray of golden light

Will far away be flown.


Then hasten to our heavenly home,

That place more fair more bright;

Where shades of darkness never come,

Where there is no more night.




MATTHEW 14: 23

And after He had sent the multitude away, He went up into the mountain apart to pray: and when even was come He was there alone.’


It is the quiet evening time, the sun was in the west,

And earth enrobed in purple glow awaits her nightly rest;

The shadows of the mountain peaks are lengthening o’er the sea,

And the flowers close their eyelids on the shore of Galilee .

The multitude are gone away, their restless hum doth cease,

The birds have hushed their music, and all is calm and peace;

But on the lowly mountain side is One, whose beauteous brow

The impress bears of sorrow and of weariness e’en now.

The livelong day in deeds of love and power He hath spent,

And with them words of grace and life hath even sweetly blent.

Now He hath gained the mountain top, He standeth all alone,

No mortal may be near Him in that hour of prayer unknown.

He prayeth, - But for whom?  For Himself He needeth nought;

Nor strength, nor peace, nor pardon, where of sin there is no spot;

But ‘t is for us in powerful prayer He spendeth all the night,

That His own loved ones may be kept and strengthened in the fight;

That they may all be sanctified, and perfect made in one;

That they His glory may behold where they shall need no sun;

That in eternal gladness they may be His glorious bride: [Rev. 19: 7, 8.]

It is for this that He hath climbed the lonely mountain side.

It is for this that He denies His weary head of rest

Which e’en the foxes in their holes, and birds have in their nest.

The echo of that prayer hath died upon the rocky hill,

But on a higher, holier mountain that Voice is pleading still;

For while one weary child of His yet wanders here below,

While yet one thirsting soul desires His peace and love to know,

And while one fainting spirit seeks His holiness to share,

The Saviour’s loving heart shall pour a tide of loving prayer;

Yes! Till each ransomed one hath gained His home of joy and peace,

That Fount of blessings all untold shall never, never cease.






(Written in pencil the early dawn of her last Easter Day, April 1879.)


It is too calm to be a dream,

Too gravely sweet, too full of power,

Prayer changed to praise this very hour!

Yes, heard and answered! Though it seem

Beyond the hope of yesterday,

Beyond the faith that dared to pray,

Yet not beyond the love that heard,

And not beyond the faithful word

On which each trembling prayer may rest,

And win the answer truly best.


Yes, heard and answered! Sought I found!

I breathe a golden atmosphere

Of solemn joy, and seem to hear

Within, above, and all around,

The chime of deep cathedral bells,

An early herald pearl that tells

A glorious Easter tide begun;

While yet are sparkling in the sun

Large raindrops of the night storm past,

And days of Lent are gone as last.






Are you shining for Jesus, dear one?

You have given your heart to Him;

But is the light strong within it,

Or is it but pale and dim?

Can everybody see it, -

That Jesus is all to you?

That your love to Him is burning

With radiance warm and true?

Is the seal upon your forehead,

So that it must be known

That you are ‘all for Jesus,’ –

That your heart is all His own?



Are you shining for Jesus, dear one?

You remember the first sweet ray,

When the sun arose upon you

And brought the gladsome day;

When you heard the gospel message,

And Jesus Himself drew near,

And helped you to trust Him simply,

And took away your fear;

When the darkness and the shadows

Fled like a weary night,

And you felt that you could praise Him,

And everything seemed bright.



Are you shining for Jesus, dear one,

So that the holy light

May enter the hearts of others,

And make them glad and bright?

Have you spoken a word for Jesus,

And told to some around,

Who do not care about Him,

What a Saviour you have found?

Have you lifted the lamp for others,

That has guided your own glad feet?

Have you echoed the loving message,

That seemed to you so sweet?



Are you shining for Jesus, dear one, -

Shining for Him all day,

Letting the light burn always

Along the varied way?

Always, - when those beside you

Are walking in the dark?

Always, - when no one is helping,

Or heeding your tiny spark?

Not idly letting it flicker

In every passing breeze

Of pleasure or temptation,

Of trouble or of ease?




Are you shining for Jesus, dear one, -

Shining just everywhere,

Not only in easy places,

Not only just here or there?

Shining in happy gatherings,

Where all are loved and known?

Shining where all are strangers?

Shining when quite alone?

Shining at home, and making

True sunshine all around?

Shining abroad, and faithful –

Perhaps among faithless - found?



Are you shining for Jesus, dear one,

Not for yourself at all?

Not because dear ones, watching,

Would grieve if your lamp should fall?

Shining because you are walking

In the Sun’s unclouded rays,

And you cannot help reflecting

The light on which you gaze?

Shineth becaust it shineth

So warm and bright above,

That you must let out the gladness,

And you must show forth the love?



Are you shining for Jesus, dear one?

Or is there a little sigh

That the lamp His live had lighted

Does not burn clear and high?

Is the heavenly crown that waits you,

Still, still without a star, [Rev. 3: 11, 12.]

Because your light was hidden,

And sent not rays afar?

Do you feel you have not loved Him

With a love right brave and loyal,

But have faintly fought and followed

His banner bright and royal?



Oh, come again to Jesus!

Come as you came at first,

And tell Him all that hinders,

And tell him all the worst;

And take His sweet forgiveness

As you took it once before,

And hear His kind voice saying,

‘Peace! Go, and sin no more!’

Then ask for grace and courage

His name to glorify,

That never more His precious light

Your dimness may deny.



Then rise, and, ‘watching daily,’

                       Ask Him your lamp to trim  [Luke 11: 35]

                      With the fresh oil He giveth,  [Acts 5:32b]

That it may not burn dim.

Yes, rise and shine for Jesus! Be brave, and bright, and true

To the true and loving Saviour,

Who gave Himself for you.

Oh, shine for Jesus, dear one,

And henceforth be your way

Bright with the light that shineth

                                               Unto the perfect day’ !  [1Pet. 1: 5-7; 2 Pet. 3: 8.]






Unto him that hath, Thou givest

Ever ‘more abundantly.’

Lord, I live because Thou livest,

Therefore give more life to me;

                           Therefore speed me in the ‘race;  [1 Cor. 9: 24.]

Therefore let me grow in grace.



Deepen all Thy work, O master,

Strengthen every downward root,

Only do thou ripen faster,

More and more, Thy plesant fruit.

Purge me, prune me, self abase,

Only let me grow in grace.



Jesus, grace for grace outpouring,

Show me ever greater things;

Raise me higher, sunward soaring,

Mounting as on eagle’s wings.

By the brightness of Thy face,

Jesus, let me grow in grace.



Let me grow by sun and shower,

Every moment water me;

Make me really hour by hour

More and more conformed to Thee,

That Thy loving eye may trace,

Day be day, my growth in grace.



Let me then be always growing,

Never, never, standing still;

Listening, learning, better knowing

Thee and Thine most blessed will.

Till I reach Thy holy place,

Daily let me grow in grace.






This is the rest, give ye rest to him that is weary; and this is the refreshing: yet they would not hear’ – Isaiah 28: 12.



Resting on the faithfulness of Christ our Lord;

Resting on the faithfulness of His own sure word; *

Resting on His power, on His love untold;

Resting on His covenant secured of old.



Resting ‘neath His guiding hand for untracked days;

Resting ‘neath His shadow from the moontide rays;

Resting at the eventide beneath His wing,

In the fair pavilion of our Saviour King.



Resting in the fortress while the foe is high;

Resting in the lifeboat while the waves roll high;

Resting in His chariot for the swift glad race;

Resting, always resting in His boundless grace.



Resting in the pastures, and beneath the Rock; **

Resting by the waters where He leads His [little] flock;

Resting, while we listen, at His glorious feet;

Resting on His very arms! – O rest complete!



Resting and believing, let us onward press,***

Resting in Himself, the Lord our Righteousness;

Resting and rejoicing, let His saved ones sing,

Glory, glory, glory  **** be to Christ our King!


[* Heb. 4: 8, 9; ** Dan. 2: 35; Mark 12: 10; Luke 20: 17; *** Phil. 3: 14; **** Num. 14: 22, 23; John 17: 24; Heb. 2: 10]







My Lord, dost Thou indeed remember me,

Just me, the least and last?

With all the names of Thy redeemed,

And all Thy angels, has it seemed

As though my name might perhaps be overpassed;

Yet here I find Thy word of tenderest grace,

True for this moment, perfect for my case, -

‘Thus saith Jehovah, I remember thee!’



My Lord, dost Thou remember this  of me,

The kindness of my youth?

The tremulous gleams of early days,

The first faint thrills of love and praise,

Vibrating fitfully? Not much in truth,

Can I bring back at memory’s wondering call;

Yet Thou, my faithful Lord, rememberest all, -

‘Thus saith Jehovah, I remember thee!’



My Lord, dost Thou remember this of me,

My love, so poor, so cold?

Oh, if I had but loved Thee more!

Yet Thou hast pardoned.  Let me pour

My life’s best wine for Thee, my heart’s best gold

(Worthless, yet all I have), for very shame

That Thou shouldst tell me, calling me by name, -

‘Thus saith Jehovah, I remember thee!’



My Lord, dost Thou remember this of me,

[In] The day of Thine own power?

The love of mine espousals sweet,

The lying wholly at Thy feet

Of heart and life, in that glad, willing hour?

That love was Thine – I gave Thee but Thine own,

And yet the voice falls from the emerald throne, -

‘Thus saith Jehovah, I remember thee!’


My Lord, dost thou remember this of me?

Forgetting every fall,

Forgetting all the tretcherous days,

Forgetting all the wandering ways,

With fullness of forgiveness covering all;

Casting these memories, a hideous store,

Into the crimson sea, for evermore,

And only saying, ‘I remember thee!’


My Lord, art Thou indeed remembering me?

Then let me not forget!

Oh, be Thy kindness all the [remaining] way,

Thy everlasting love to-day,

In sweet perpetual rememberance set

Before my view, to fill my marvelling gaze,

And stir my love, and lift my life to praise,

Becaust Thou sayest, ‘I remember thee!’

[Jesus, remember me when thou comest into thy kingdom : Luke 23: 42. R.V.]






Distrust thyself, but trust His grace;

It is enough for thee!

In every trial thou shalt trace

Its all-sufficiency.


Distrust thyself, but trust His strength;

In Him thou shalt be strong:

His weakest ones may learn at length

A daily triumph-song.


Distrust thyself, but trust his love;

Rest in His changeless glow:

And life or death shall only prove

It everlasting flow.


Distrust thyself, but trust alone

In Him, for all – for ever!

And joyously thy heart shall own

That Jesus faileth never.






I would have you to be free from cares,’ – 1 Cor. 7: 32, R.V.


Master! How shall I bless Thy name

For Thy tender love to me,

For Thy sweet enablings of Thy grace,

So sovereign, yet so free,

That have taught me to obey Thy word

And cast my care on thee!


They tell of weary burdens borne

For discipline of life,

Of long anxieties and doubts,

Of struggle and of strife,

Of a path of dim perplexities

With fears and shadows rife.


Oh, I have trod that weary path,

With burdens not a few,

With shadowy faith that Thou wouldst lead

And help me safely through,

Trying to follow and obey,

And bear my burdens too.


Master! Dear Master, Thou didst speak,

And yet I did not hear,

Or long ago I might have ceased

From every care and fear,

And gone rejoicing on my way

From brightening year to year.


Just now and then some steeper slope

Would seem so hard to climb,

That I must  cast my load on Thee;

And I left it for a time,

And wondered at the joy of heart,

Like sweetest Christmas chime.


A step or two on weighted feet,

And then I turned to share

The burden Thou hast taken up

Of ever-pressing care;

So what I would not leave with Thee

Of course I had to bear.


At last Thy precious precepts fell

On opened heart and ear,

A varied and repeated strain

I could not chose but hear,

Enlinking promise to command,

Like harp and clarion clear:


‘No anxious thought upon Thy brow

The watching world should see;

No carefulness! O child of God,

For nothing careful be!

But cast thou all thy care on Him

Who always cares for thee.


Did not Thy loving Spirit come

In gentle, gracious shower,

To work Thy pleasure in my soul

In that bright, blessed hour,

And to the word of strong command

Add faith and will and power?


It was Thy word, it was Thy will –

That was enough for me!

Henceforth no care should dim my trust,

For all is cast on Thee;

Henceforth my inmost heart shall praise

The grace that set me free.


And now I find the promise true,

Of perfect peace and rest;

I cannot sigh – I can but sing

While leaning on Thy breast,

And leaving everything to Thee,

Whose ways are always best.


I never thought it could be thus, -

Month after month to know

The river of Thy peace without

One ripple in its flow;

Without one quiver in the trust,

One flicker in its glow.


Oh, Thou hast done far more for me

Than I had asked or thought:

I stand and marvel to behold

What Thou, my Lord, hast wrought,

And wonder what glad lessons yet

I shall be daily taught.


How shall I praise Thee, saviour dear,

For this new life so sweet,

For taking all the care I laid

At thy beloved feet,

Keeping Thy hand upon my heart

To still each anxious beat!


I want to praise, with life renewed,

As I never praised before;

With voice and pen, with song and speech,

To praise Thee more and more,

And the gladness of the gratitude

Rejoicingly outpour.


I long to praise Thee more, and yet

This is no care to me:

If Thou shalt fill my mouth with songs,

Then I will sing to Thee;

And if my silence praise Thee best,

Then silent I will be.


Yet if it be thy will, dear Lord,

Oh, send me forth, to be

Thy messenger to careful hearts,

To bid them taste and see

How good Thou art to those who cast

All, all their care on Thee!






O the compensating springs! O the balance wheels of life,

Hidden away in the workings under the seeming strife!

Slowing the feet and the friction, weighing the whirl and the force,

Evolving the truest power from each unconscious source.


How shall we gage the whole, who can only guess a part?

How can we read the life, when we cannot spell the heart?

How shall we measure another, we who can never know

From the juttings above the surface the depth of the vein Below?


Even our present way is known to ourselves alone,

Height and abyss and torrent, flower and thorn and stone;

But we gaze on another’s path as a far-off mountain scene,

Scanning the outlined hills, but never the vales between.


How shall we judge their present, we who have never seen

That which is past forever, and that which might have been?

Measuring by ourselves, unwise indeed are we,

Measuring what we know by what we can hardly see.


Ah! If we knew it all, we should surely understand

That the balance of sorrow and joy is held with an even hand,

That the scale of success or loss shall never overflow,

And that compensation is twined with the lot of high and low.


The easy path in the lowland hath little of grand or new,

But a toilsome ascent leads on to a wild and glorious view;

Peopled and warm is the valley, lonely and chill the height,

But the peak that is nearer the storm-cloud is nearer the stars of light.


Launch on the foaming stream that bears you along like a dart, -

There is danger of rapid and rock, there is tension of muscle and heart;

Glide on the easy current, monotonous, calm, and slow,

You are spared the quiver and strain in the safe and quiet Flow.


O the sweetness that dwells in a harp of many strings,

While each, all vocal with love, in tuneful harmony rings!

But O, the wail of the discord, when one and another is Rent

Tensionless, broken, or lost, from the cherished instrument.


For rapture of love is linked with the pain or fear of loss,

And the hand that takes the crown must ache with many A cross;

Yet he who hath never a conflict hath never a victor’s palm,

And only the toilers know the sweetness of rest and calm.


Only between the storms can the Alpine traveller know

Transcendent glory of clearness, marvels of gleam and glow;

Had he the brightness unbroken of cloudless summer days,

This had been dimmed by the dust and the veil of a brooding haze.


Who would dare the choice, neither  or both  to know,

The finest quiver of joy or the agony-thrill of woe?

Never the exquisite pain, then never the exquisite bliss,

For the heart that is dull to that can never be strong to this.


Great is the peril or toil if the glory or gain be great;

Never an earthly gift without responsible weight;

Never a treasure without a following shade of care;

Never a power without the lurk of a subtle snare.


For the swift is not the safe, and the sweet is not the strong;

The smooth is not the short, and the keen is not the long;

The much is not the most, and the wide is not the deep;

And the flow is never a spring, when the ebb is only neap.


Then hush! Oh, hush! For the Father knows what thou knowest not,

The need and the thorn and the shadow linked with the fairest lot;

Knows the wisest exemption from many an unseen snare,

Knows what will keep thee nearest, knows what thou could’st not bear.


Hush! Oh, hush! For the Father portioneth as He will,

To all His beloved children, and shall they not be still?

Is not His will the wisest, is not His choice the best?

And in perfect acquiescence is there not perfect rest?


Hush! Oh, hush! For the Father whose ways are true and just,

Knoweth and careth and loveth, and waits for thy perfect trust;

The cup He is slowly filling shall soon be full to the brim,

And infinite compensations for ever be found in Him.


Hush! Oh, hush! For the Father hath fullness of joy in store,

Treasures of power and wisdom, and pleasures for evermore;

Blessing and honour and glory, endless, infinite bliss; -

Child of His love and His choice, oh, canst thou not wait for this?






Light! Emblem of all good and joy!

Shade! Emblem of all ill!

And yet in this strange mingled life,

We need the shadow still.

A lamp with softly shaded light,

To soothe and spare the tender sight,

Will only throw

A brighter glow

Upon our books and work below.


We could not bear unchanging day,

However fair its light;

Ere long the wearied eye would hail,

As boon untold, the evening pale.

The solace of the night.

And who would prize our summer glow

If winter gloom we did not know?

Or rightly praise

The glad spring rays

Who never saw our rainy days?


How grateful in Arabian plain

Of white and sparkling sand,

The shadow of a mighty rock

Across the weary land!

And where the tropic glories rise,

Responsive to the fiery skies,

We could not dare

To meet the glare,

Or blindness were our bitter share.


Where is the soul so meek and pure,

Who through his earthly days

Life’s fullest sunshine could endure,

In clear and cloudless blaze!

The sympathetic eye would dim,

And others pine unmarked by him,

Where no chill shade

Around him laid,

And light of joy could never fade.


He, who the light-commanding word

Erst spake, and formed the eye,

Knows what that wondeerous eye can bear,

And tempers with providing care,

By cloud and night, all hurtful glare,

By shadows ever nigh.

So in all wise and loving ways

He blends the shadows of our days,

To win our sight

From scenes of night,

To seek the ‘True and holy Light.’


We need some shadow o’er our bliss,

Lest we forget the Giver:

So, often in our deepest joy

There comes a solemn quiver;

We could not tell from whence it came,

The subtle cause we cannot name;

Its twilight fall

May well recall

Calm thought of Him who gave us all.


There are who all undazzled tread

Awhile the sunshine plain;

But they have sought the blessed shade

By one great Rock of Ages made,

A sure, safe rest to gain.

Unshaded light of earth soon blinds

To light of heaven sincerest minds:

O envy not

A cloudless lot!

We ask indeed we know not what.


So it is here, so is it now!

Not always will it be!

There is a land that needs no shade,

A morn will rise which cannot fade,

And we, like flame-robed angels made,

That glory soon may see.

No cloud upon its radient joy,

No shadow o’er its bright employ,

No sleep, no night,

But perfect sight,

The Lord our Everlasting Light.






Behold, the Bridegroom cometh!’ – Matt. 25:6.



O HERALD whisper falling

Upon the passing night,

Mysteriously calling

The children of the Light!


He cometh; Oh, He cometh!

Our own beloved Lord!

This blessed hope up-summeth

Our undeserved reward.


He cometh! Though the hour,

Nor earth nor heaven may know,

Sure is the word of power,

He cometh!’ Even so!


Look up, and lift up your heads; for your redemption draweth nigh,’ – Luke 21: 28.



Advent shadows gather deep,

Wars of desolations,

Troubled wakings, troubled sleep,

Rushing of the nations.

Advent glory, grand and clear,

Herald flashes flingeth;

And the Judge who draweth near,

Full salvation bringeth.




RHYMED MOTTOES for the members of the Open-Air Mission.



Occupy till I come,’ – Luke 19: 13.

‘Occupy till I return:’

Let us, Lord, this lesson learn;

May our every moment be

Faithfully filled up for Thee.



Be not far from me,’ – Psalm 21: 11.

Be not far from me, we pray:

‘I am with thee all the day;’

This my answer, strong and clear!

Master, Thou art always near.



He is faithful that promised,’ – Hebrews 10: 23.

Thou art faithful; praise Thy name,

Thou art evermore the same;

Thou hast promised; Oh, how blest

On Thy royal word to rest!



He that winneth souls is wise,’

Proverbs 11: 30.

‘He that winneth souls is wise’

In the Master’s gracious eyes;

Well may we contented be

To be contented fools for Thee.



Redeeming the time,’ – Colossians 4: 5.


So may we redeem the time,

That with every evening chime

Our rejoicing hearts may see

Blood-bought souls brought back to Thee.



Lay up His words in thine heart,’- Job 22: 22.


Let us, by Thy Spirit stirred,

In our hearts lay up Thy word.

Daily, Lord, increase our store,

Fill our treasures more and more.






Be quiet; fear not.’ – Isaiah 7: 4.


Thou layest Thy hand on the fluttering heart,

And sayest, ‘Be still!’

The silence and shadow are only a part

Of Thy sweet will.

Thy Presence is with me, and where thou art

I fear no ill.


The Lord shall open unto thee His good treasure, the heaven to give the rain unto land in his season, and to bless all the work of thine hand,’ – Deuteronomy 28: 12.


His love is the key and His glory the measure

Of grace all-abounding and knowledge of light:

To thee shall be opened this infinite treasure,

To thee, the unsearchable riches of Christ.


With Him is an arm of flesh; but with us is the Lord our God to help us, and to fight our battles.  And the people rested themselves upon the words of Hezekiah of Judah,’   2 Chronicles 32: 8.


Upon Thy word I rest,

So strong, so sure;

So full of comfort blest,

So sweet, so pure.

The word that changesth not, that faileth never!

My King! I rest upon Thy word for ever.


Rest in the Lord (“Be silent to the Lord,” margin), and wait patiently for Him,’ – Psalm 37: 7.


Rest, and be silent! For, faithfully listening,

Patiently waiting, thine eyes shall behold

Perils in the waters of quietness glistening,

Treasures of promise that He shall unfold.

Rest, and be silent! For Jesus is here,

Calming and stilling each ripple of fear.


Write ye also for the Jews, as it liketh you, in the king’s name, and seal it with the king’s ring: for the writing which is written in the king’s name, and sealed with the king’s ring, may no man reverse,’ – Esther 8: 8.


For He hath given us a changeless writing,

Royal decrees that light and gladness bring;

Signed with his name in glorious inditing,

Sealed on our hearts with His own signet ring.


Casting down imaginations, and every high thing that exalteth itself against the knowledge of God, and bringing into captivity every thought to the obedience of Christ,’ – 2 Corinthians 10: 5.


Let every thought

Be captive brought,

Lord Jesus Christ, to Thine own sweet obedience!

That I may know

In ebbless flow,

The perfect peace of full and pure allegiance.



Moreover also I gave them my Sabbaths, to be a sign between Me and them, that they might know that I am the lord that sanctify them,’-

Ezekiel 20: 12.


The token of His truth and care, the gift that He hath blessed,

The pledge of our inheritance, the earnest of His rest;

The diamond hours of holy light, the God-entrusted leisure:

Oh for a heart to prize aright this rich and heavenly treasure!




Even so, Father: for it seemed good in Thy sight,’ – Matthew 11: 26.


And if it seemed good to Thee, my Father’

Shall it seem aught but good to me?

Thy will be done! Thou knowest I would rather

Leave all to Thee.



O send out Thy light and Thy truth: let them lead me; let them bring me into Thy holy hill, and to Thy Tabernacles,’- Psalm 43: 3.


Thy light and truth forth-sending

From Thy own radiant side,

Be Thou our Guard and Guide!

On Thee alone depending,

No darkness can affright;

Thy shield of Truth and Light,

Is all-defending.


The Lord taketh pleasure in them that fear Him, in those that hope in His mercy,’ – Psalm 147: 11.


O MYSTERY of grace,

That chooseth us to stand before Thy face,

To be Thy ‘special treasure,’

Thy portion, Thy delight, Thine own;

That taketh pleasure

In them that fear Thy Name, that hope alone

In Thy sweet mercy’s boundless measure!


And I will make of thee a great nation, and I will bless thee, and make thy name great; and thou shalt be a blessing,’ – Genesis 12: 2.


Thy Spirit’s fullness on him rest,

Thy love his sunshine be,

And may he still, while doubly blest

A blessing be from Thee.


And his the everlasting name

Inscribed by Thy own hand,

That he the promised home may claim

In Thine own holy land. [Acts 7: 5.]


Enoch walked with God: and he was not; for God took him,’ – Genesis 5: 24.


Oh may’ s’t thou walk! From hour to hour

Of every passing year,

Keeping so very near

To Him whose power is love, whose love is power.

So may’st thou walk! In His clear light,

Leaning on Him alone,

Thy life His very own,

Until He takes thee up to walk with Him in white.






From glory to glory,’ – 2 Corinthians 3: 18.


‘From glory unto glory!’ Be this our joyous song,

As on the King’s own highway we bravely march along!

‘From glory unto glory!’ O word of stirring cheer,

As dawns the solemn brightness of another glad new year.


Our own beloved Master ‘hath many things to say;’

Look forward to His teaching, unfoulding day by day;

To whispers of His Spirit, while resting at His feet,

To glowing revelation, to insight clear and sweet.


‘From glory unto glory!’ Our faith hath seen the King,

We own His matchless beauty, as adoringly we sing:

But He hath more to show us! O thought of untold bliss!

And we press on exultingly in certain hope of this:-


To marvellous outpourings of His ‘treasures new and old,’

To largess of His bounty, paid in the King’s own gold,

To glorious expansion of His mysteries of grace,

To radiant unveilings of the brightness of His face.


‘From glory to glory!’ What great things He hath done,

What wonders He hath shown us, what triumphs He hath won!

We marvel at the records of the blessings of the year!

But sweeter than the Christmas bells rings out His promises clear –


That ‘greater things,’ far greater, our longing eyes shall see!

We can but wait and wonder what ‘greater things’ shall be!

But glorious fulfilments rejoicingly we claim,

While pleading in the power of the All-prevailing Name.


‘From glory to glory!’ What mighty blessings crown

The lives for which our Lord hath laid His own so freely down!

Omnipotence to keep us, Omniscience to guide,

Jehovah’s Triune promises within us to abide!


The fullness of His blessing encompasseth our way;

The fullness of His promises crowns every brightening day;

The fullness of His glory is beaming from above,

While more and more we realize the fullness of His love.


‘From glory to glory!’ Without a shade of care,

Because the Lord who loves us will every burden bear;

Because we trust Him fully, and know that He will guide,

And know that He will keep us at His beloved side.


‘From glory to glory!’ Though tribulation fall,

It cannot touch our treasure, when Christ is all in all!

Whatever lies before us, there can be naught to fear,

For what are pain and sorrow when Jesus Christ is near?


‘From glory to glory!’ O marvels of the word!

‘With open face beholding the glory of the Lord,’

We, even we (O wonderous grace!)are changed into the same,’

The image of the Saviour, to glorify His name.


Abiding in His presence, and walking in the light,

And seeking to ‘do always what is pleasing in His sight,’

We look to Him to keep us ‘all glorious within,’

Because our Lord hath said it, that such shall be our way

(O splendour of the promise!) ‘Unto the perfect day.’


‘From glory to glory!’ Our fellow-travellers still

Are gathering on the journey! The bright electric thrill

Of quick instinctive union, more frequent and more sweet,

Shall swiftly pass from heart to heart in true and tender beat.


And closer yet the golden bonds shall be,

Enlinking all who love our Lord in pure sincerity;

And wider yet, and wider shall the circling glory glow,

As more and more are taught of God that mighty love to know.


O ye who seek the Saviour, look up in faith and love,

Come up into the sunshine, so bright and warm above!

No longer tread the valley, but, clinging to His hand,

Ascend the shining summits and view the glorious land.


Our harp-notes should be sweeter, our trumpet-tones more clear,

Our anthems ring so grandly, that all the world must hear!

Oh, royal be our music, for who hath cause to sing

Like the chorus of redeemed ones, the Children of the King!


Oh, let our adoration for all that He hath done

Peal out beyond the stars of God, while voice and life are one!

And let our consecration be real, be deep, and true;

Oh, even now our hearts shall bow, and joyful vows renew! –


‘In full and glad surrender we give ourselves to Thee,

Thine utterly, and only, and evermore to be!

O Son of God, who lovest us, we will be Thine alone,

And all we are, and all we have, shall henceforth be Thine own!’


Now, onward, ever onward, from ‘strength to strength’ we go,

While ‘grace for grace’ abundantly shall from His fullness flow,

To glory’s full fruition, from glory’s foretaste here,

Until His very Presence crown our happiest New Year!








‘He that overcometh in the fight

Shall be clothed in raiment white and pure;

In the ever blessed book of life

Shall his name eternally endure.


‘When the Father on His dazzling throne

Sits, with myriad angels all around,

I’ll confess his name, to men unknown;

Heaven and earth shall listen to the sound.’


Who, with such a glorious end in view,

Would not in the heavenly conflict join?

Strange that willing soldiers are so few

Strange so many faint, who once were Thine.


Oh, it is a service blessed indeed!

Though the strife be long, the end is sure;

And our Leader gives all who need

Grace that they may to the end endure.


Neath Thy standard be my place, O Lord:

Grant me strength and grace, that I ere long

May obtain that rich and fill reward.

Then, as conquering I sheath by sword,

Thou, my Captain, shall be all my song.






God of heaven! Hear our singing;

Only little ones are we,

Yet a great petition bringing,

Father, now we come to Thee.


Let Thy kingdom come, we pray Thee,

Let the world in Thee find rest;

Let all know Thee, and obey Thee,

Loving, praising, blessing, blessed!


Let the sweet and joyful story

Of the Saviour’s wondrous love,

Wake on earth a song of glory,

Like the angel’s song above.


Father, send the glorious hour,

Every heart be Thine alone!

For the kingdom, and the power,

And the glory are Thine own.






Nevertheless, afterward it yieldeth the peaceable fruit of righteousness,’- HEBREWS 12: 11.


What shall Thine ‘afterward’ be, O Lord,

For this dark and suffering night?

Father, what shall Thine ‘afterward’ be?

Hast Thou a morning of joy for me,

And a new and joyous light?


What shall thine ‘afterward’ be, O Lord,

For the moan that I cannot stay?

Shall it issue in some new song of praise,

Sweeter than sorrowless heart could raise,

When the night hath passed away?


What shall Thine ‘afterward’ be, O Lord,

For the helplessness of pain?

A clearer view of my home above,

Of my Father’s strength and my Father’s love?

Shall this be my lasting gain?


What shall Thine ‘afterward’ be, O Lord?

How long must Thy child endure?

Thou knowest! ‘T is well that I know it not!

Thine ‘afterward’ cometh, I cannot tell what,

But I know that Thy word is sure.


What shall Thine ‘afterward’ be, O Lord?

I wonder and wait to see,

(While to Thine chastening hand I bow,)

What ‘peaceable fruit’ may be ripening now,

Ripening fast for me!




Lord, increase our faith,’ – Luke 17: 5


Increase our faith, beloved Lord!

For Thou alone canst give

The faith that takes Thee at Thy word,

The faith by which we live.


Increase our faith! So weak are we,

That we both may and must

Commit our very faith to Thee,

Entrust to Thee our trust.


Increase our faith! For there is yet

Much land to be possessed;

And by no other strength we get

Our heritage of rest.


Increase our faith! On this broad shield

All’ fiery darts be caught;

We must be victors in the field

Where Thou for us hast fought.


Increase our faith, that we may claim

Each starry promise sure,

And always triumph in Thy name,

And to the end endure.


Increase our faith, O Lord, we pray,

That we may not depart

From Thy commands, but all obey

With free and loyal heart.


Increase our faith – increase it still –

From heavenward hour to hour,

And in us gloriously ‘fulfil

The work of faith with power.’


Increase our faith, that never dim

Or trembling it may be,

Crowned with the ‘perfect peace’ of him

‘Whose mind is stayed on Thee.


Increase our faith, for Thou hast prayed

That it should never fail;

Our steadfast anchorage is made

With Thee, within the veil.


Increase our faith, that unto Thee

More fruit may still abound;

That it may grow ‘exceedingly,’

And to Thy praise be found.


Increase our faith, O saviour dear,

By thy sweet sovereign grace,

Till, changing faith for vision clear,

We see Thee face to face!






Lord, speak to me, that I may speak

In living echoes of Thy tone;

As Thou hast sought, so let me seek

Thy erring children, lost and lone.


O lead me, Lord, that I may lead

The wandering and the wavering feet;

O feed me Lord, that I may feed

The hungering ones with manna sweet.


O strengthen me, that while I stand

Firm on the Rock, and strong in Thee,

I may stretch out a loving hand

To wrestlers with the troubled sea.


O teach me, Lord, that I may teach

The precious things Thou dost impart;

And wing my words, that they may reach

The hidden depths of many a heart.


O give Thine own sweet rest to me,

That I may speak with soothing power

A word in season, as from Thee,

To weary ones in needful hour.


O fill me with Thy fullness, Lord,

Until my very heart o’erflow

In kindling thought and glowing word,

Thy love to tell, Thy praise to show.


O use me Lord, use even me,

Just as Thou wilt, and when, and where;

Until Thy blessed face I see,

Thy rest, Thy joy, Thy glory share.






Understanding what the will of the Lord is,’ – Ephesians 5: 17


With quivering heart and trembling will

The word hath passed thy lips,

Within the shadow, cold and still,

Of some fair joys eclipse.

‘Thy will be done!’ Thy God hath heard,

And He will crown that faith-framed word.


Thy prayer be fulfilled: but how?

His thoughts are not as thine;

While thou wouldst only weep and bow,

He saith, ‘Arise and shine!’

Thy thoughts were all of grief and night,

But His of boundless Joy and light.


Thy Father reigns supreme above:

The glory of His name

Is Grace and Wisdom, Truth and Love,

His will must be the same.

And thou hast asked all joys in one,

In whispering forth, ‘Thy will be done.’


His will – each soul to sanctify

Redeeming might hath won;

His will – that thou shouldst never die,

Believing on His Son; [John 6: 40]

His will - that thou, through earthly strife,

Shouldst rise to everlasting life.


[i.e., after enjoying age-lasting life -  Phil. 3: 1o, 11; Rev. 2: 7; Rev. 3: 5.]


That one unchanging song of praise

Should from our hearts arise; [1 thess. 5: 18.]

That we should know His wonderous ways,

Though hidden from the wise; [Eph. 1: 18.]

That we, so sinful and so base,

Should know the glory of His grace.


His will – to grant the yearning prayer

                                 For dear ones far away, [I John 5: 15, 16.]

That they His grace and love may share,

And tread the pleasant way;

That in the Father and the Son

                               All perfect we may be in one [John 17: 23, 24.]


                            His will – the little flock to bring [Luke 12: 32.]

Into His royal fold,

To reign forever with their King,

                            His beauty to behold. [Isa. 33: 17.]

Sin’s fell dominion crushed for aye,

Sorrow and sighing fled away.


This thou hast asked! And shall the prayer

Float upward on a sigh?

No song were sweet enough to bear

Such glad desires on high!

But God thy Father shall fulfil,

In thee and for thee, all His will.






Our Father, our Father, who dwellest in light,

We lean on Thy love, and we rest on Thy might;

In weakness and weariness joy shall abound,

For strength everlasting in Thee shall be found:

Our Refuge, our Helper in conflict and woe,

Our mighty Defender, how blessed to know

That Thine is the Power!


Our Father, Thy promise we earnestly claim,

The sanctified heart that shall hallow Thy name,

In ourselves, in our dear ones, throughout the wise world,

Be Thy Name as a banner of glory unfurled;

Let it triumph o’er evil and darkness and guilt,

We know Thou canst do it, we know that Thou wilt,

For Thine is the Power!


Our Father, we long for the glorious day

When all shall adore Thee, and all shall obey.

Oh hasten Thy kingdom, o show forth Thy might,

And wave o’er the nations Thy sceptre of right.

Oh make up Thy jewels, the crown of Thy love,

And reign in our hearts as Thou reignest above,

For Thine is the Power!


Our Father, we pray that Thy will may be done,

For full acquiescence is heaven begun; -

Both in us and by us Thy promise be wrought,

In word and in action, in spirit and thought;

And Thou canst enable us thus to fulfil,

With holy rejoicing, Thy glorious will,

For Thine is the power!


Our Father, Thou carest; Thou knowest indeed

Our inmost desires, our manifold need;

The fount of Thy mercies shall never be dry,

For Thy riches in glory shall meet the supply;

Our bread shall be given, our water be sure,

And nothing shall fail, for Thy word shall endure,

And Thine is the power!


Our Father, forgive us, for we have transgressed,

Have wounded Thy love, and forsaken Thy breast;

In the peace of Thy pardon henceforth let us live,

That through Thy forgiveness we too may forgive;

The Son of Thy love, who hath taught us to pray,

For Thy treasures of mercy hath opened the way,

And Thine is the Power!


Thou knowest our dangers, Thou knowest our frame,

But a tower of strength is Thy glorious name;

Oh, lead us not into temptation, we pray,

But keep us, and let us not stumble or stray;

Thy children shall under Thy shadow abide;

In Thee as our Guide and our Shield we confide,

For Thine is the Power!


Our Father, deliver Thy children from sin,

From evil without and from evil within,

From this world, with its manifold evil and wrong’

From the wiles of the Evil One, subtle and strong;

Till, as Christ overcame, we, too, conquer and sing,

For Thine is the Power!


Our Father, Thy children rejoice in Thy reign,

Rejoice in Thy highness, and praise Thee again!

Yea, Thine is the kingdom and Thine is the might,

And Thine is the glory transcendently bright;

For ever and ever that glory shall shine,

For ever and ever that kingdom be Thine,

For Thine is the power!







O wanderer from my side!

Soon droops between the blossom of the darkening wild,

Soon melts each meteor of thy steps beguiled,

Soon is the cistern dry which thou hast hewn,

And thou will weep in bitterness full soon.

Return! Ere gathering night shroud the way

Thy footsteps yet may tread, in this accepted day.



O erring, yet beloved!

I wait to bind thy bleeding feet, for keen

And rankling are the thorns where thou hast been;

I wait to give thee pardon, love, and rest;

Is not my joy to see thee safe and blest?

Return! I wait to hear once more thy voice,

To welcome thee anew, and bid thy heart rejoice.



O fallen, yet not lost!

Canst thou forget a life for thee laid down,

The taunts, the scourging, and the thorny crown?

When o’er thee first My spotless robe I spread,

And poured the oil of joy upon thy head,

How did thy weakening heart within thee burn!

Canst thou remember all, and wilt thou not return?



O chosen of My love!

Fear not to meet thy beckoning Saviour’s view;

Long ere I called thee by name, I know

That very treacherously thou wouldst deal;

Now I have seen thy ways, yet I will heal.

Return! Wilt thou yet linger far from Me?

My wrath is turned away, I have redeemed thee.






Leave behind earth’s earthly pleasure,

Fleeting hope and changeful love;

Leave its soon-corroding treasure:

There are better things above.


Leave, oh, leave thy fond aspirings,

Bid thy restless heart be still;

Cease, oh, cease thy vain desirings,

Only seek thy Father’s will.


Leave behind thy faithless sorrow,

And thine ever anxious care;

He who only knows the morrow

Can for thee its burden bear.


Leave behind the doubting spirit

And thy crushing load of sin;

By the mighty Saviour’s merit,

Life eternal thou shaly wil.


Leave the darkness gathering o’er thee

Leave the shadow-land behind;

Realms of glory lie before thee;

Enter in, and welcome find.






* [Suggested by the question, 'What does the letter R in your initials (F.R.H.) represent?']


From childish days I never heard

My own baptismal name;

Too small, too slight, to full of glee

Aught else but 'Little Fan' to be,

The stately 'Frances' not in me

Could any fitness claim.


Now, in the crouded halls of life,

May it be to bring

Some gentle stir of the heated air,

Some coolness falling fresh and fair,

Like a passing angel's wing.


My father's name, - O how I live

Its else unwonted look!

For his dear sake right dear I hold

Each letter, changed, as he has told,

Long since from early Saxon mould -

'The rising of the brook.' *


* ['Havergill' - the heaving or rising of the brook or gill.]


Of music, holiness, and love

That name will always tell,

While sacred chant and anthem rise,

Of mourners live whose deepest sighs

To echoes of a Father's will

He tuned, or child, or grandchild still

On his mighty memory dwell.


But 'what the R doth represent,'

I value and revere;

A diamond clasp it seems to be

On golden chains enlinking me

In loyal love to England's hope,

Bulwark 'gainst infidel and Pope,

The Church I hold so dear.


Three hundred years ago was one

Who held with steadfast hand

That chalice of the truth of God,

And poured its crystal stream abroad

Upon the thirsting land.


The moderate, the wise, the calm,

The learned, brave, and good, *

A guardian of the sacred Ark,

A burning light in places dark,

For cruel, changeless Rome a mark,

Our Bishop RIDLEY stood.


*[ 'A man beautiful with such excellent qualities, so ghostly inspired and godly learned, and now written doubtless in the book of life with the blessed saints of the Almighty, crowned and throned amongst the glorious company of martyrs.' - Foxe's Acts and Monuments.]


The vengeance of that foe nought else

But fiery doom could still:

Too surely fell the lightening stroke

Upon the noble English oak,

Whose acorn-memory survives

In forest ranks of earnest lives,

And martyr-souls in will.


Rome offered life for faith laid down:

Such ransom paid not he!

'As long as breath is in this frame,

My Lord and Saviour Christ His name

And His known truth I'll not deny:'

He said (and raised his head on high),

'God's will be done in me.' *

*[ See Works of Bishop Ridley, Parker Society, pp. 295 and 296' ibid.]


He knelt and prayed, and kissed the stake,

And blessed his Master's name

That he was called His cross to take,

And counted worthy for His sake

To suffer death and shame.  *[ibid.]


Though fierce the fire and long the pain,

The martyr's God was nigh;

Till from that awful underglow

Of torture terrible and slow,

Above the weeping round about,

Once more the powerful voice rang out

His Saviour's own last cry.


Oh faithful unto death! the crown

                        Was shining on the brow,  [Rev. 2: 10.]

Before the ruddy embers paling,

And sobbing after-gusts of wailing

Had died away, and left in silence

That truest shrine of British Islands,

The spot so sacred now!


In dear old England shineth yet

The candle lit that day;

Right clear and strong its flames arise,

Undimmed, unchanged, toward the skies,

By God's good grace it never dies,

A living torch for aye.


'T is said that while he calmly stood

And waited for the flame,

He gave each trifle that he had,

True relic-treasure, dear and sad,

To each who cared to claim.

I was not there to ask a share,

But reverently for ever wear

That noble martyr's name.






[*Written on the last leaf of a MS. volume]


Another little volume filled with varied verse and song,

Should wake another note of praise, unheard, but deep and strong;

For He who knows my truest need, and leads me day by day,

Has given the music that hath been such solace on my way.


I look up to my Father, and know that I am heard,

And ask Him for the glowing thought, and for the fitting word:

I look up to my Father, for I cannot write alone,

'T is sweeter far to seek His strength than lean upon my own.

And so the closing verses of my new-filled book shall be

A note of praise, dear Father, sung only unto Thee, -

To Thee, who hast so helped me, to Thee who hast so blessed,

The only Friend who knows my heart, the nearest and the best.


I bless Thee, gracious Father, who hast moulded praise from pain,

And turned a wail of mourning to a trustful calm refrain,

To many a sorrow giving me an afterward of song,

And wafting it to other hearts in comfort true and strong.


I bless Thee, gracious Father, for Thy pleasant gift to me,

And earnestly I ask Thee that it may always be

In perfect consecration laid at Thy glorious feet,

Touched with Thine altar-fire, and made an offering pure and sweet.