LXXVIII

THE TREASURE

AR away, where the tempests play,

FAR

Over the lonely seas,

Sail or still, with a steady will,

Onward before the breeze!

Onward yet, till our hearts forget
The loves that we leave behind,
Till the memories dear, that thrill in our ear,
Flow past like the whistling wind!

Let them come, sweet thoughts of home,
And voices we loved of old ;-

What care we, that sail the sea,
Bound for a Land of Gold?

Gems there are which are lovelier far
Than the flash of a maiden's eyes;

Jewels bright, as the magic light
That purples the evening skies.

Crowns that gleam like a fairy dream,
Treasures of price untold:

And we are bound for that charmed ground,

We sail for the Land of Gold !

W. E. Littlewood

LXXIX

THE FOOLISH VIRGINS

LATE, late, so late! and dark the night, and chill!

Late, late, so late! but we can enter still.

Too late, too late, ye cannot enter now.

No light had we, for that we do repent ;
And learning this, the Bridegroom will relent.
Too late, too late, ye cannot enter now.

No light, so late! and dark and chill the night!
O let us in, that we may find the light!

Too late, too late, ye cannot enter now.

Have we not heard the Bridegroom is so sweet?
O, let us in, though late, to kiss His feet!
No, no, too late! ye cannot enter now.

T

LXXX

"Unto Him who hath loved us"

'HERE is no love like the love of Jesus,

Never to fade or fall,

Till into the fold of the peace of God

He has gathered us all!

There is no heart like the heart of Jesus

Filled with a tender lore;

Not a throb or throe our hearts can know
But He suffered before!

There is no eye like the eye of Jesus

Piercing far away;

Never out of the sight of its tender light

Can the wanderer stray !

There is no voice like the voice of Jesus,

Ah! how sweet its chime,

Like the musical ring of some rushing spring

In the summer-time !

O might we listen that voice of Jesus,

O might we never roam,

Till our souls should rest, in peace, on His breast,

In the Heavenly home!

W. E. Littlewood

LXXXI

"I am the Way, the Truth, and the Life"

COME, my my

"OME, my way, my truth, my life:

Such a truth, as ends all strife:

Such a life, as killeth death.

Come, my light, my feast, my strength :
Such a light, as shows a feast:

Such a feast, as mends in length:
Such a strength, as makes his guest.

Come, my joy, my love, my heart :
Such a joy as none can move :
Such a love, as none can part:
Such a heart, as joys in love.

LXXXII

"We've no abiding city here"

E've no abiding city here:

WE

This may distress the worldling's mind;

But should not cost the saint a tear,

Who hopes a better rest to find.

We've no abiding city here:

Sad truth, were this to be our home! But let this thought our spirits cheer; We seek a city yet to come.

We've no abiding city here:

Then let us live as pilgrims do! Let not the world our rest appear, But let us haste from all below.

We've no abiding city here:
We seek a city out of sight;
Zion its name, the Lord is there,
It shines with everlasting light!

Zion! Jehovah is her strength;
Secure she smiles at all her foes;
And weary travellers at length

Within her sacred walls repose.

O! sweet abode of peace and love,

Where pilgrims freed from toil are blest!

Had I the pinions of a dove,

I'd flee away, and be at rest!

T. Kelly