Poems (Shipton)/God's Messenger
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GOD'S MESSENGER.
"Who hath ears to hear, let him hear."—Matt. xiii. 9
I gazed around my lonely room,
Then on the city's street,
Where, one by one, accustomed sounds
Died in the noontide heat.
The whitened pavement burned beneath
The sultry summer sky,
And, from the view within—without,
My heart turned wearily.
Then on the city's street,
Where, one by one, accustomed sounds
Died in the noontide heat.
The whitened pavement burned beneath
The sultry summer sky,
And, from the view within—without,
My heart turned wearily.
The holy page upon my knee
Was silent, and I sighed:
I seemed within a prison cage,
Freedom and flight denied.
Earthward I gazed, and missed the Hand
Whose faithful love had shown
Its tenderness in leading on
By paths I had not known.
Was silent, and I sighed:
I seemed within a prison cage,
Freedom and flight denied.
Earthward I gazed, and missed the Hand
Whose faithful love had shown
Its tenderness in leading on
By paths I had not known.
Dulled was the faith that once descried,
When all was dark below,
'Twas fair above; but never yet
Had life seemed drear as now.
Lord, how oft I disbelieved
Thy ever-watchful care!
Yet what on earth were left for me,
If Thou hadst failed me there?
When all was dark below,
'Twas fair above; but never yet
Had life seemed drear as now.
Lord, how oft I disbelieved
Thy ever-watchful care!
Yet what on earth were left for me,
If Thou hadst failed me there?
The Tempter came, with wandering thoughts
In wily guise arrayed:
I pined for other, fairer paths,
Than heavenly wisdom made;
For strength to nerve my helpless hand,
My feeble frame to brace;
For wider spheres of usefulness,
And richer gifts of grace:
In wily guise arrayed:
I pined for other, fairer paths,
Than heavenly wisdom made;
For strength to nerve my helpless hand,
My feeble frame to brace;
For wider spheres of usefulness,
And richer gifts of grace:
Nor rested there. The Evil One
Sought every sense to please,
Imaged the woodlands green, and brought
The happy hum of bees:
The river seemed to flow along
The flowery bank I trod,
And every sigh for things of time
Withdrew my heart from God.
Sought every sense to please,
Imaged the woodlands green, and brought
The happy hum of bees:
The river seemed to flow along
The flowery bank I trod,
And every sigh for things of time
Withdrew my heart from God.
No vision of my Father's house
Upon the shadows stole;
Earth, with its pictured beauty, held
Captive my willing soul.
"Oh, for the bird's free wing," I sighed,
"And those fair fields of ours!"
Hark! from the street a low voice cries,
"Buy Everlasting Flowers!"
Upon the shadows stole;
Earth, with its pictured beauty, held
Captive my willing soul.
"Oh, for the bird's free wing," I sighed,
"And those fair fields of ours!"
Hark! from the street a low voice cries,
"Buy Everlasting Flowers!"
As sunbeams in the Lapland sky
Disperse the nights of gloom,
A strange sweet gladness echoed in
That solitary room.
Sweeter than singing bird or bee,
Amid earth's fading bowers,
Awoke the echo in my heart,
"Sweet Everlasting Flowers!"
Disperse the nights of gloom,
A strange sweet gladness echoed in
That solitary room.
Sweeter than singing bird or bee,
Amid earth's fading bowers,
Awoke the echo in my heart,
"Sweet Everlasting Flowers!"
"Buy,buy!" and as it rose again,
The stranger's plaintive cry,
Another voice seemed whispering,
"The wine and milk come buy:
Come without money, without price,
The peerless boon secure;
With pastures green, and flowing streams,
And raiment white and pure.
The stranger's plaintive cry,
Another voice seemed whispering,
"The wine and milk come buy:
Come without money, without price,
The peerless boon secure;
With pastures green, and flowing streams,
And raiment white and pure.
"Why waste thy thought on fleeting joys?
Why droops thy heavenly wing?
Let birds and foxes make their homes
Where all is perishing:
But look to thine inheritance,
Fear not these days of gloom;
The thorns that wound thee sore to-day
With fadeless fruit shall bloom.
Why droops thy heavenly wing?
Let birds and foxes make their homes
Where all is perishing:
But look to thine inheritance,
Fear not these days of gloom;
The thorns that wound thee sore to-day
With fadeless fruit shall bloom.
"An everlasting rest is thine,
With everlasting love;
Safe in thy Father's house, thy foot
No chance or change can move.
With Christ dwells everlasting joy
In Heaven's perennial bowers;
Then wait and weave a glory wreath
Of 'Everlasting Flowers.'"
With everlasting love;
Safe in thy Father's house, thy foot
No chance or change can move.
With Christ dwells everlasting joy
In Heaven's perennial bowers;
Then wait and weave a glory wreath
Of 'Everlasting Flowers.'"
I saw no more the sultry street,
Nor heard the city's din;
No echo of the hurrying feet
Awoke sad thoughts within.
To the bright haven of the blest,
Whore broods no fear nor pain,
The Shepherd in His sheltering arms
Brought back His own again.
Nor heard the city's din;
No echo of the hurrying feet
Awoke sad thoughts within.
To the bright haven of the blest,
Whore broods no fear nor pain,
The Shepherd in His sheltering arms
Brought back His own again.
All things are His, and all obey
His wonder-working will;
E'en common things have life and speech,
And His commands fulfil.
From buried seeds, awhile entombed
In these dead souls of ours,
The sun and storm shall cherish buds
Of fair, immortal flowers.
His wonder-working will;
E'en common things have life and speech,
And His commands fulfil.
From buried seeds, awhile entombed
In these dead souls of ours,
The sun and storm shall cherish buds
Of fair, immortal flowers.
Oh, let me learn the lesson, Lord,
And live it and be true,
Waiting in patience at Thy feet
Thy holy will to do.
Resting in Thee confidingly,
Trusting in Thee always,
And finding every hour unfold
Some secret cause for praise.
And live it and be true,
Waiting in patience at Thy feet
Thy holy will to do.
Resting in Thee confidingly,
Trusting in Thee always,
And finding every hour unfold
Some secret cause for praise.