(Lines suggested by a morning ride to I. H R’y. Station, Canada.)
Narrative
‘Twas early morn, the snow shone white,
Glittering beneath the moon’s pale light,
For high in heaven she held her way,
And hours must elapse ere break of day;
But travel, we must, if we hope to gain
The rail in time for the morning train,
So we started, and heard as the sleigh sped fleet
No sound, but the tread of the horses’ feet;
The world was sleeping, and all was still,
For silence rested on vale and hill.
‘Twas well we were muffled in furs, I ween,
For the frosty air bit sharp and keen;
And little was said as we slipped along,
For frozen alike seemed tale and song.
Our hearts were “discouraged because of the way,”
And sorely we longed for the dawning of day;
Yet pleasant the thoughts, and still they abide,
Which came to me during that dark, cold ride,
For the harbinger bright of coming day
Did ever before us its lights display,
The silvery rays of the Morning Star
Above the horizon shone afar,
And as I sat gazing, sweet thoughts arose
In my mind, which in measure resembled those:
Jesus, the Bright and Morning Star
I thought of Him, who died for sin,
That He eternal life might win
For those who did, in heart, abhor Him
Who, though the Father’s sole delight,
Willingly left the glory bright,
With death and suffering before Him.
Of Him who rendered up His breath,
Bowing beneath the stroke of death,
Triumphing over death by dying;
And who, though dead, yet strong to save,
Arose victorious o’er the grave,
Its dread and lonesome power defying.
I thought of Him in courts above,
The object of the Father’s love,
By radiant angel hosts attended;
Dwelling in glory’s brightest blaze,
The theme of heaven’s exhaustless praise,
His sufferings forever ended.
But though on high, He’s still the same,
And when upon the cross of shame
He prayed in love for them that slew Him;
Though dwelling in the courts above,
He still retains His name of love,
And welcomes all that still come to Him.
How great the love He bears His own!
Its height or depth can ne’er be known;
In His warm heart ‘tis ever glowing,
And soon He’ll come to claim His Bride,
That she may e’er with Him abide,
Glory divine on her bestowing.
Hearken! He speaks from heaven afar,
I am: The bright and Morning Star.
Midnight is past, ‘tis early morning,
Rise from among the dead—awake—
Be watchful, slumber from thee shake,
For soon I come the heavens’ adorning.
Narrative
But now, as slowly waned the night,
The frost seemed sharper still to bite;
Stung by the cold, we thought the sleigh,
As it slipped along, made little way;
But though this might our comfort mar,
It made no change on the morning star.
In beauty and brightness still it shone
Like a silver plate in the sky alone.
To our impatience, it seemed to say,
“Wait for a little, ‘twill soon be day;
Be patient, this trial will soon be past,
And your journey’s end you’ll reach at last.”
And again the sweet thoughts in the mind would rise,
As I gazed on the star that illumed the skies.
The Rising of the Bright and Morning Star
When the traveler weary,
Bending neath a load,
Through the darkness dreary,
Toils along the road,
In his worn-out sandal,
Hoping rest to win;
Sweet the shining candle
Of the welcome inn.
When the storm is pouring,
O’er the midnight sea,
And the surge is roaring
‘Neath the vessel’s lee;
To the awe-struck seaman,
Rapturous is the sight,
When through darkness gleaming
Shines the beacon light.
When the church, contending,
Weary, sad, forlorn,
Yet on God depending,
Watcheth for the morn;
Then what joy and gladness,
When from heaven afar,
Ending all her sadness,
Shines the Morning Star.
Jesus! Lord of glory,
Lord of life and peace,
Theme of angel’s story—
Bid our wanderings cease.
See our bark is riven
By the tempest’s jar,
Shine, O, shine, from heaven,
Bright and Morning Star.
Narrative
But now at last, to end my story,
Rose the bright sun in a blaze of glory,
Bidding the slumbering world arise,
Soaring triumphant through the skies.
The darkness fled before its beams,
‘Neath his bright rays, the landscape gleams;
Had it been summer, songs of love,
Had warbled forth from every grove;
Clothed in bright green, the stately trees
Had waved their branches in the breeze.
While verdant grass, and floweret gay
Had basked beneath the living ray;
But now, although the dazzling glow
Shone over fields of cold, white snow,
The scene was pleasant to the sight,
And fair to view in the morning light;
So when—our journey nearly done—
In glory and splendor rose the sun,
I thought of the time when our banners unfurled,
The Lord will re-visit this suffering world,
(After, as Morning Star, He has come,
And taken His bride to His own bright home).
And when, as the Sun of Righteousness,
He rises in glory bright to bless
His earthly people, forsaken long,
Filling their hearts with joy and song.
Israel! on whose devoted head
Has rested for centuries, curses dread;
And as I thought of these coming days,
My heart burst forth in songs of praise.
Christ, the Sun of Righteousness
When we speak of Israel’s wanderings,
Mournful is the dirge and low;
Naught of joy relieves our ponderings,
Only thoughts of grief and woe.
But still deeper grows the sadness,
And still louder Israel’s moan;
Unrelieved by aught of gladness,
When the church to heaven is gone.
Hated for their name and nation,
Round them storms and tempests lower;
Crushed ‘neath dreadful tribulation,
Wielded by resistless power.
But when trembling for the morrow,
Groaning in their deep distress,
Then, while in their deepest sorrow,
Soars the Sun of Righteousness.
Rising in a cloud of glory,
Light and healing on His wings,
Ends glad Israel’s mournful story,
And their hearts with rapture sing—
Hallelujah
Hail! All hail that cloudless morning,
Hail that bright millennial day
When, the heavens and earth adorning,
Christ will all His power display.
Then shall Israel’s praise ascending
To the great anointed one,
With the church’s anthems blending,
Reach Jehovah’s glorious throne.
Then, while shouts through heaven are ringing,
Ransomed earth with loud acclaim
Shall with rapturous joy and singing
Praise Messiah’s glorious name.