Poems by Rebekah Smith Part 7

I smile when I'm sad, and seem joyful in grief; When alone bitter tears are my only relief; Bruised now is the heart by the blow that has come, Dark now the dear spot, once so bright as my home.

Though wealth were my portion, and splendor surround, More empty 'twould seem while the loved was not found.

With him I'd be blest, though earth's treasures were few, And trouble should prove my affection more true.

Oft I imagine each member is here, Those pledges of love and affection so dear, I view the loved circle, but ah! there's a s.p.a.ce-- 'Tis vacant, and nought can to me fill the place.

But those left behind, his dear image reveal, Who only affection and sympathy feel; Their kindness I know, the returns of their love, And ask for them blessings that come from above.

But he's gone to the grave, where, free from all care, He knows not the grief which for him I now bear.

There rest till our Saviour shall bid thee arise; Then may we immortal ascend to the skies.

With this hope I can triumph o'er earth's deepest gloom, The dearest and loveliest can yield to the tomb; When bowed in submission, my Saviour appears, Bids me trust in his word, and refrain from my tears.

Look Up.

Lone Pilgrim, cease that mournful sigh-- Look up! redemption draweth nigh.

Have loved ones gone, does earth look drear?

Look up! shed not that bitter tear.

What though the heart is saddened now, And shadows gather on thy brow, And grief the bosom heaving still-- Look up! submit to Heaven's own will.

Do trials, unexpected, rise?

Look up! and view the glorious prize; Let not life's sorrows press you down-- Look up! prepare to take the crown.

Lift up your head, rejoice and sing-- Look up! by faith behold your King.

He soon is coming, heed his call-- Look up! and make your G.o.d your all.

He'll come, all troubles here to end, He'll come, a never-failing friend, He'll come to take his children home-- Look up! and pray, Lord, quickly come.

Overcoming Sin.

How fiercely does the conflict rage within, While striving to subdue some cherished sin; What shall be done? The idol is most dear, And often is the victim vanquished here.

Though trivial it may seem, sin's poisonous dart Will sting the conscience and will wound the heart, Destroy the peace and condemnation bring, And drive us from the shelter of His wing.

In view of this, who dare a sin commit?

Our cherished idols we must all submit; As one small leak the largest ship will sink, So one dear sin, will lead to ruin's brink.

While love for sin in any form remains, Though not committed, we are still in chains; Sins must be broken off by righteousness, And then will G.o.d deliver, own and bless.

No condemnation then--all peace within, Untrammeled freedom from the love of sin; Oh! blessed freedom! nought can then control The heavenward flight and rapture of the soul.

Will You be a Pilgrim?

Will you come in with the pilgrims, though a remnant they may be, And know the blessed privilege of gospel liberty?

Will you take the name of Christ, and be redeemed by sovereign grace, And find in him from every storm a sure, safe hiding-place?

Will you part with earth's delusive joys, with all its vain delights, And "bear the consecrated cross," to have the Christian's rights?

They have a right to call on G.o.d; and he's vouchsafed his aid.

The ancients said, We'll trust in thee, nor ever be dismayed.

They said, 'Tis nothing, Lord, with thee, with many or with few, To put a mighty host to flight, and all our foes subdue.

Will you go against the mult.i.tude, in his own strength and name?

He fought their battles and he's still unchangeably the same.

Their hope's an anchor to the soul, both sure and steadfast too, And buoys their spirits up in all the conflicts they go through.

Will you have this hope to cheer you, to an unfading crown-- A crown that far outshines this world, with all its grand renown?

They've no abiding city here, but look for one to come, A glorious city all illumed, to be their final home.

Oh! will you suffer sorrow here, and have a home in Heaven, A kingdom that will shortly be, to all the faithful given?

Home for the Weary.

If there's rest for the weary, a home for the meek, Hope for the trembling and strength for the weak, Take courage, worn pilgrim, nor sink in despair, While braving the storms that but hasten us there.

The waves and the billows will over us go, And waters most bitter will oft overflow.

Our hearts with fierce conflicts and anguish be riven, But hope to the end; there's salvation in Heaven.

Oh, who will endure the last searching test, With Abrah'm and Isaac and Jacob be blest In the kingdom of G.o.d? and who will be lost, To find when too late, what earth's pleasures have cost?

Shall we cling, then, to what Christ would have us give up?

Oh, no! grieve him not, and he with us will sup.

He'll shelter us here in the last coming strife, And give us to drink of the water of life.

How blest to be ready and waiting to hear The last trumpet sound, and see Jesus appear!

Such then will rejoice that redemption has come, Be changed to his image, and received to their home.

The Enemy's Power.

Rev. xii, 12.