THEY WERE FILLED WITH THE HOLY GHOST." THERE was a little lowly upper room Within the walls of proud Jerusalem, Where met a few poor men in grief and gloom, Talking of Him who once had walked with them. There came a sound as of a rushing wind, And filled up all the place where they were met, And flaming figures of unwonted kind, Like tongues of fire, upon each brow were set. That was the promise of the Father, come To those who waited, mourning for their Lord; And the closed lips, that were so dead and dumb, Are loosed at once to speak His precious Word. Then all the strangers from afar, who came From Asian shores, from Europe's fairer strands, From Afric's deserts, wondering heard His name In the dear language of their native lands. Not now in form distinct of flaming light Comes that great Spirit on our earth to dwell; But, like the strong wind whispering at night, Its mighty impulse is invisible. Yet, to the lowly and obedient heart, In gentleness and might its breath shall come, Bidding the Christian choose the better part, Stirring with thought of his eternal home. O Lord, ascended! from Thy glory's throne, Give our poor hearts Thy Spirit strong and holy. THE DISCIPLE WHOM JESUS LOVED." THERE lies a little lonely isle Where dark the salt waves run, And Grecian fishers dry their nets And, many a hundred years ago, There dwelt an exiled Jewish man, A man of reverend air; His eye was bright as setting suns, That head beloved, at supper-time That honored hand had taken home His mother for a guest. That eye had seen in glorious trance Mysterious things to be, Wild visions of impending doom His pen had writ of times to come, Of dearer times by-gone; He was the fisher's chosen son, The Lord's beloved St. John. And he had drank his Master's cup And now he lingered there, the last, I wish I'd lived in those old times, To hear that old man's blessing kind, To hear the words of holy love But love endureth through all age; Nor time, nor distance drear, Divide the living and the dead Of Christ's communion dear. For all His saints in Him are one; The exile o'er the sea, - The child within his English home,— The good Saint John hath rest at last; And we shall meet him, not as once, But where apostles, martyrs, saints, |