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William Hunter – Poems 1874 - 1875 |
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6 The old year 7 Sabath in earth and in heaven 8 Man lost and redeemed |
9 Snow 10 Maggie MacDonal - aged 17 years |
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6. THE OLD YEAR - Pinedale - Jan 20, 1874
Old year farewell, now we must sever The ties that bound us close together From scenes of sorrow and of pain These scenes will never come again... From scenes of sickness and of woe From scenes where bitter tears did flow From scenes of joy and cheerful mirth That make us bless our very birth ... From scenes of love that are quickly gone And yet are like the setting sun Though it is down and out of sight It leaves its golden stream of light... How young hearts beat when hand in hand Beneath some willow tree they stand Or in some quiet porch recline Where morning-glories round it twine... Or wander through some grassy glade Where maple trees can cast their shade Or pluck some flower from off a vine When she has answered, "I'll be thine"... And when all seemed so full of love As streams of light poured from above With one arm round her lily neck He softly kissed her rosy cheek... And thought not, ere another moon These rosy cheeks would fade so soon That form so lovely, and so gay Would be a lifeless lump of clay... A parent's hopes, a mother's joy A father's pride, their first-born boy Has left his parents' hearts in pain For life upon the foaming main... A new-born babe, that cannot tell Its mother's form that loved it well But like the flower, cut in bloom It sweetly fills its little tomb... Perhaps upon a father's form Some fell disease has fastened on And weeping round his death-bed there His wife and children gathered are... And now Old Year, when thou art gone These various scenes we'll think upon And pray for strength, that as we live Each day a good record may give That so at last when life had fled And we are numbered with the dead We may find our happy rest And lay our hands on Jesus' breast. 7. SABBATH IN EARTH AND IN HEAVEN - Killy Glen - 1874 How sweet O Lord Thy day of rest From worldly labor free When we can feed our hungry souls And worship only Thee O may each Sabbath morning bring Our thoughts from earth to heaven And think of Jesus and His love For us His life was given His life so pure and holy too Without one spot or stain O may I Lord return Thy love I have received from Him How many Sabbaths I have seen Since first my life began They are like sunny stepping-stones Placed there by God's own hand Sweet Sabbath here, thou art the type Of rest that is for me In that bright land of joy and peace Forever Christ, with Thee And, O my Savior, may I love Thy Sabbaths more and more Until I leave this vale of tears And reach bright Canaan's shore Then will I love Thee as I ought When free from doubt and sin And dwell forever with my Lord My Prophet, Priest, and King 8. MAN LOST AND REDEEMED - Killy Glen - Nov 14, 1875 Poor sinful man; how frail is he Composed of clay and earth And yet the Lord did love him so Yea even from his birth Made in God's image fair In Eden's bower to dwell He had the choice of Life or Death He disobeyed and fell God drove him from his garden home And ne'er within it more Was he to live in happiness As in the days before An angel with a flaming sword Did guard the garden gate He mourned and wept when now he saw The earth cursed for his sake His soul that once was pure and fair As from God's hands it came Was now sunk low in dark despair With sorrow, sin, and shame 'Twas then, O Lord, Thy wondrous love Thou first displayed to man Salvation through Thy own dear Son O! what a glorious plan And we, O Lord, as Adam's sons Partake of Adam's sins And as we died as Adam died So now we live with Him The promise God to Eve did make That of her seed should be A Savior, who should bring to man Salvation full and free He paid the debt we owed to God A debt we could not pay To bring us back to God and heaven He opened up the Way And now poor sinner stop and think What Christ hath done for Thee Thy stripes He bore, thy debt He paid And now thou art set free O guilty soul, despair no more But come and trust His grace While here on earth we live by faith In heaven we'll see his face Our trials here will soon be o'er How sweet to think of rest In heaven above, we'll ever love And lean on Jesus' breast 9. SNOW - February, 1875 How soft and white the snow doth lie How lovely, pure and clean On valleys low, and mountains high On trees and meadows green It comes to cover mother earth That she may rest and sleep The heat of summer and the dearth Nigh worried her complete That when the spring comes round again Old earth may live once more With many flowers strewed o'er the plain And comforts for the poor It comes to give the boys at school Pleasure, and health, and strength Or playing with school girls curls It falls to the ground at length It comes to make our roads more smooth To see the flying teams Some fat and sleek, some more uncouth Some need both whip and reigns To hear the merry sleigh-bells ring Jingle, jingle, as they go Or hear the happy voices sing How they love the sparkling snow It makes us think of years gone past Of scenes that we have seen Of forms once loved that now are dust Long laid 'neath the valley's green Beautiful snow, with thy mantle of white Thou hast covered our bleak brown earth Surely thou art a beautiful type Of what Christ did by His death For we were polluted and in distress Not fit for our Father to love When over us, Christ cast His righteousness And prepared us for mansions above 10. MAGGIE MCDONALD- AGED 17 YEARS Dearest Maggie, thou hast left us Left us in the early bloom Left us all in saddest sorrow Weeping round thy early tomb Lovely was thy form and features Bright as any summer day Voice was king, her smile was kinder As she met you on the way Step as light as any dew drop Falling on the grassy lawn Quick her fingers too, and nimble With her needle or her pen Her last days with us are ended In the school-room or at home We will listen for her coming But she never more will come O the house is sad and lonely Without Maggie's well-known form She will ne'er more bid us welcome Father, Mother, welcome home But we know that she is better Safely in her Savior's arms Free from sin, and every sorrow Singing with blood-washed throng |
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