Christ, let me come to Thee!
My heart is weary and I long for rest:
Is not my earthly mission well-night done?
I cannot bear this burden on my breast—
It weights my spirit downward like a stone.
My saddened life is ever [?] in clouds.
Oh God! how beautiful is earth
In sunlight or in shade:
Her forests with their waving arch
Her flowers that gem the glade.
Her hillocks, white with [f?] flocks,
Her fields with grain that glow,
Her sparkling rivers, deep and broad,
I'll think of thee when morn's first flush,
Shall stream its glittering rays on high,
Of thee, when twilight's crimson flush
Shall spread and kiss the eastern sky,—
I'll think of thee in gloomiest hours,
And in the spring time's brightest…
There is a peaceful home above,
Where all who bear below
The cross of Christ, is faith and love,
As equal heirs may go.
There is a fount, whose waters gush
With life beyond the grave,
Whereof the master will not blush
To drink beside the…
I pity the slave mother, careworn and weary,
Who sighs as she presses her babe to her breast:
I lament her sad fate, all so hopeless and dreary,
I lament for her woe, and her wrongs unredressed.
You may picture the bonds of the rock-girded…
When Gen. Fremont proclaimed to the Rebels of Missouri, "their slaves, if any, are Free Men," millions said to each other, "This trumpet gives no uncertain sound." The eloquent Wm. H. Channing wrote joyfully to a friend: "My faith is that, as a…
Not lost forever, though on earth we’ve parted;
Not lost forever, though we meet no more:
They do not wander lone and broken hearted
Who see Heaven’s radiance on the further shore.
Not lost forever! every gentle token,
That memory wins me from…
The light of Home! how bright it beams!
When evening shades around us fall,
And from the lattice far it gleams,
To love and rest, and comfort call;
When wearied with the toils of day,
The strife for glory, gold or fame,
How sweet to seek the…
Restore the Fugitive! Ay, whenThe Son of Gods descends again
And bids me never more to do
As I would fain be done unto.
Restore the Fugitive! I willWhen God's own voice in man is still,
And wrong is right by God's decree,
And light and air no…