At Home

I thought it pleasant when a manly sire Weary of foreign travel, at the door Of his own cottage left his dusty staff, And entering in, sat down with those he loved Beside the hearth of home;--and pleasant, too, When a fond mother, absent for a day, At eve returning, from the sunset hill That overlooked her cot, descried her boys Flying with joyous feet along the path To greet her coming; and, with clasping hands Of baby welcome, lead her through the gate Of her sweet home.

Pleasant I deemed it, too, When a young man, a wanderer for years From those he loved, at length sat down again With sire and mother in the twilight hour At home;--and when a gentle daughter, long From mother's kiss and father's blessing far, Heard once again their ne'er forgotten tones Giving her joyous welcome home again, I felt that life had few such joys as that. And yet, methought there was--canst tell me why-- Thou, who in Earth alone hast found thy bliss?-- A higher, sweeter, purer joy than those, When, free from sin and Earth's encumb'ring cares, A ransomed soul went home to be with Christ. I knew a man in life's strong; healthful prime-- Aye more, the flush of youth was on his brow, And all his bounding pulses were astir With the great joy of work for God, while hope-- Such hope as only Heaven-taught manhood fires To loftiest ambition--pointed down The radiant vista of the coming years To deeds immortal. But the Master called, And, in mid-race he heard--"Come home, my child!"-- And paused, and listened in surprise and doubt.

"Come home my child!" Then, listening, I heard The pale lips murmur, while the head was bent In reverent submission--"Oh, so soon?-- So soon, my Lord? Thou knowest there is much I fain would do for thee!--thy precious lambs To gather and to feed--thy sheep to lead In quiet pastures, and thy name beloved To herald forth, till Earth's remotest shore Shall thrill with rapture, and send up to thee The new-born utterance of love's great joy!"

"Come home, dear child!"--again the Master's voice-- And eagerly he flung his robe aside, Ungirt his loins, and cast his sandals by; And while he sweetly sang--"I love the Lord!"-- Entered the peaceful river, and went o'er, To be forever with the Lord he loved.

----------------------I knew an aged man, Yet one scarce bent, with fresh, luxuriant hair So beautifully white, and clear, blue, loving eyes;-- We almost worshipped that most princely man In his pure, patriarchal beauty. But one day A whisper came to him. It was so low We heard it not, nor knew till he was gone-- Gone home! Our sun was set on earth, Yet risen in Heaven; and through our falling tears We saw our loved at home, thenceforth to be Forever with the Lord--Oh, highest bliss-- Forever with his Lord!

Our mother slept At eve in a poor, earthly home. At dawn She stood upon the golden shore, a sainted one, A victor crowned. We wept, as well we might, When we looked down upon those folded hands Whose tender touch had often thrilled along Our baby temples,--those pale, patient hands That toiled for us what time sweet slumber lay On our young eyelids, and in sunny dreams We gathered wild flowers on the hill-side green, Or chased the butterfly 'mid orchard blooms, While she, till the night waned, toiled bravely on-- Not for herself, but us, then knelt and prayed For each young sleeper, ere herself might sleep.

This morn she slept, and every line that grief Had ever left on her pale, settled face, And every furrow care had ever traced Upon her brow had faded in the calm Of that blest slumber. Did we softly tread, And hold our breath suspended, in vague fear Of breaking the sweet spell, or all too soon Rousing those tired feet to tread again Their round of daily toil?--or did we check Our rising grief, lest one o'er-lab'ring sob From hearts so full, should banish the sweet smile Which the glad vision of her Lord's dear face Had left upon her lips? It may be so,-- And yet the hour of weeping was not long; For, 'mid the light by mortal eyes unpierced, We caught the gleam of her unsullied robe, And we rejoiced, beholding her at home!

A little babe, a tiny, broken bud, A snow-white, breathless lamb lay still and cold Upon its mother's knees. She did not weep-- She did not pray; but with white, trembling lips And stony gaze looked down upon her child, And only moaned in gasping accents--"dead! My tender babe, my lamb, my own sweet boy!-- Dead, silent, dead!"

Then sweet, as borne O'er silver seas, there came a voice that said, "Do not their angels evermore behold My Father's face in Heaven?"--and, swift as thought, Faith overswept the bounds of space, and caught A glimpse of her beloved on Jesus' breast Then tears gushed forth--a precious, healing flood-- And the lips murmured--"Safe, oh, safe at home!-- My bright boy waits at home, thank God, for me!"

Then let us ever when the righteous die Speak of them joyously as gone before; Not dead, but sweetly drawn within the veil To the blest home we're nearing--to the house Of Christ our Elder Brother, mansion fair, Prepared and set in order by His hand,-- Their home, and ours to be; forevermore

SABBATH MEMORIES.

I love thee, Sabbath morn!--I cannot say But 'tis because my father loved thee so,-- Because my mother's care-worn face would grow So sweetly placid in thy peaceful ray;--

It may be, that is part of what endears Thee, Sabbath, to my soul; for memory stirs Old buried thoughts of his voice and of hers-- Heard never more on Earth--till sudden tears

So sadly sweet well up, I bid them flow, They leave a Sabbath in the soul when past; As when the sky, by April clouds o'ercast, Shows fairer in the sun's returning glow.

I see the grass-grown lane we trod of old, Dear father, sainted mother! while The Sabbath sun looked down with loving smile, And touched the hills and streams with rippling gold.

I hear your voices as ye talked, what time In childish pride I walked before, and thought This world a paradise, and Earth full-fraught With blessedness and love,--a summer clime

Of changeless beauty!--Ah! those streams flow on, Blue are those skies, as green the woods, as still The Sabbath hush that foldeth vale and hill In sweet embrace, but ye, beloved, are gone!

She sleeps in stranger dust.--He, old and lone, Long waited by the river, staff in hand, Till a voice called him, and he sought that land Where age takes on fresh youth to change unknown.

And we are parted, brothers, sisters dear-- Alas, the band is broken!--One by one Ye left the hill-side green,--the Sabbath sun Finds those old paths to-day, forsaken, drear.

And Mem'ry paints me yet another scene-- A home, love-lighted by an earnest eye-- A home, of fellowship so pure, so high. I pause, and ask myself, have such things been?--

Or have I dreamed?--Was it a blessed dream?-- A dream of peace, and rest, and hallowed calm,-- The skies all sunshine, and the air all balm,-- The tranquil hours aglow with Heaven's own beam?--

A dream?--a dream?--the long, long, clouded day That ended in a longer, sadder night, When, in my home went out that blessed light, And Love from its hushed chambers passed away?

O no!--oh no! 'Tis but the old, old tale Of human bliss and human agony,-- Of morning's joy-bells ringing full and free,-- And evening's hollow winds and funeral wail!

Yet thou art left me, Sabbath! In thy light I sit and muse, this sweet, June morning, till The past, with all its varied scenes of good and ill, Fades from my thought--fades, with the bliss and blight,

The short-lived transports of those buried years,-- The summer flowers I gathered with such pains,-- The gold I hoarded in slow-gathered grains,-- All lost,--the summer chilled by Autumn's tears,--

The long, lone, flowerless autumn--when the sun, Hurled from his zenith, shivered cold and pale On the horizon's verge--the funeral wail O! tempest-burdened winds through forests dim,

And desolate, and drear,--all pass away This morn, O Sabbath, in thy hallowed light, And, glancing far beyond the infinite Of thy blue heavens, where a clearer day

Lights the Eternal hills, I seem to see The Heavenly City, whence the radiant gleam Of a fair Temple, and a crystal stream Of living water wanders down to me

In changeless light! O Home!--O Rest!-O Heaven! Thus to thy hallowed calm I'd look away, Sabbath of God!--Eternal Sabbath day! Till to my soul thy tranquil rest is given.