Gleams of Sunshine Part 16

A GLIMPSE OF HEAVEN

As the caged eagle neared the mountain range, O'er which he oft had soared on pinions strong, He clapped his wings, moved by some impulse strange, And then fell dead his prison floor along.

So Moses stood on Pisgah's heights alone, With sight undimmed, and unabated strength; He gazed with rapture on the vision shown, Of the fair land in all its breadth and length;

He saw the vale of Eschol clad with vine, Mount Libba.n.u.s adorned with lordly trees, Gilead and Achor, with their lowing kine, And verdant Sharon swept by the sea breeze;

He saw the spot where Jacob's ladder stood, The oaks at Mamre where their father prayed, Saw Bashan with its pastures and its wood, And the rude cave where Abram Sarah laid.

Saw the whole land--its hills and vales and streams, Its lakes and pools, its vineyards and its groves, A wealth and glory far beyond his dreams; Better, it seemed, than all earth's treasure troves.

G.o.d then revealed a glimpse of His own face, Which Moses once desired, but G.o.d withheld, But finished now the G.o.d-ordained race, The battle fought, and every pa.s.sion quelled.

As he beholds the glory of his Lord, And looks within the pearly gates ajar, Snaps, in an instant, life's frail brittle cord, And he is where the holy angels are.

So is it, likewise, with most dying saints; They see e'en here the beatific sight; The spirit then breaks thro' this world's restraints, And enters into heaven's effulgent light.

Not sorrow snaps the silver cord, but joy; Not woe, but bliss, expands the golden bowl.

The pitcher breaks when free from earth's alloy, And fails the wheel when heaven has filled the soul.

THE END WE SOUGHT

The end we sought is not attained, But wisdom has been won, And thus a higher goal is gained.

_That_ like the moon has sadly waned, While _this_ shines as the sun.

A shorter route to India's strand Columbus failed to find.

That was an object truly grand, But in the wealth of this fair land Grandeur and good combine.

ASPIRATION

I stand to-day on higher ground Than ever reached before, Yet from this summit I have found, Outlined full many more, Which seem to pierce the vaulted sky, And prove my effort vain But G.o.d will set my feet on high, Thro' grace I shall attain.

Yet higher still my ideal stands, Its peak but dimly seen, But hope impels, and love commands, And faith discerns its sheen; And when I reach its shining height Heaven's gate will open wide; I'll see the beatific sight, And rest at Jesus' side.

MY REST

I would not cherish a wish or thought Displeasing, Lord, to Thee; Thy will is good, and with wisdom fraught, And that suffices me.

I cannot alter a plan of Thine, And would not if I could; I acquiesce in the will divine, And find my highest good.

At times my vessel drifts near the sh.o.r.e, And the beacon lights expire, The surf-capped waves swell more and more, And threaten with ruin dire; But only the surface sea is rough; The ocean's depths are calm, And a star affords me light enough, The Star of Bethlehem.

And by its light I discern the sand And rocks along the coast, And turn away toward a fairer land, And standing at my post, I guide my bark thro' the tempest wild, Borne on by wind and tide, Till G.o.d receives His weak, erring child, And shelters near His side.

"Lo, I come, O Lord, to do Thy will!"

Shines from my star divine, And my heart cries out, "In me fulfill Also, Thy wise design."

I would not alter a plan of thine If I the power possessed; My will is lost in the will divine, 'Tis here I find my rest.

"PAINT ME AS I AM, WARTS AND ALL"--_Cromwell_.

Brave soul, 'twere well if all the same would say, And artists aim their patron's wish t'obey.

What signifies a wart, or e'en a scar?

Leave both, skilled hand, and paint us as we are.

The crowfeet paint, the wrinkles on the brow, The hollow cheek, the form inclined to bow, The tear-dim'd eye, the hair well streaked with gray, The hardened hand, begrim'd with soot and clay, And if you use the seer's revealing gla.s.s, Remember this, "_All flesh is as the gra.s.s._"

"I WAS THERE"

When the French soldier from the field returned, Begrimed with smoke and blood, he felt content, As from Napoleon he this fact had learned, That thro' his marshall, medals would be sent, The name of battlefield each one would bear, And, also, in large letters, "_I was there._"

In others' triumphs we may well rejoice, If in their triumphs good to us redounds; But in the glory we can have no choice, And our rejoicings are but empty sounds.

If you would in the victor's glory share, Be then prepared to add this, "_I was there!_"

The victor's joy belongs to him alone; He stood his ground 'midst storms of shot and sh.e.l.l; Thro' his brave stand the foe has been o'erthrown, And he alone the victor's tale can tell.

He now lies down to die 'neath glory's glare, For he can say to others, "_I was there!_"

Not in some neutral nook must we remain; The battle rages, we must share the strife; The world, once lost, we must for Christ regain, And each lay hold upon eternal life.

Who share His conflicts will His glory share; Then looking down to earth say, "_I was there!_"

Those who before the throne are robed in white, Pa.s.sed thro' the conflict and the foe o'ercame; Boldly they stood as champions for the right, And thus have won thro' grace enduring fame, And when the roll is called, each will declare, "_Here am I, Lord, I fought for Thee down there!_"

TRUE LOVE

He loves not much who loves not honor more; If men lack this then love must lack as well; If this possessed no tongue love's depths can tell; The heart an ocean filled from sh.o.r.e to sh.o.r.e.

Seeing in him the possibility Of likeness to the great and Blessed One; It may be even now in him begun.