OF one to whom the Word of God was dear,
Whose only hope Jehovah’s mercy bore,
In writing, as of one with Isaac’s tear,
With happy mem’ry would I grace adore.
His earnest face, that spoke of fearless mind,
And left the impress of an honest soul,
Gave token of the eye of faith behind
The tear-washed eye that told of pleading toil.
His simple, unassuming walk in life,
The quiet grasp of friendship’s willing hand,
So full of meaning, well revealed how strife
Was stilled in him—he found a Fatherland.
The Prince of Peace, whose kingdom is of heaven,
Who from the land of strife His flock secures,
Within his heart the silent-working leaven
Had hidden deep, which blissful rest ensures.
And so it was this world no longer kept
On him the hold that worldlings find so strong;
His treasure, henceforth sought while others slept,
To the unseen eternal did belong.
In secret to the Lord would he repair,
And, closeted with Him, his soul outpour
With earnest diligence and watchful care,
Remembering His word—to close the door.
How weighty on his spirit lay the care
Of those who formed the circle of his home,
As well he knew in life how soon some snare
Might them entangle for the world to come.
No worldly prospect seemed to carry weight
Of any kind with him while he them brought
From childhood up to manhood—he their state
To be hereafter one of safety sought.
With loving heart them chastisement he gave,
And clear before his child he ever set,
That, pained to give, more pained was he to save
From chast’ning due, lest God they should forget.
By earnest word, and walk becoming too,
The world to come he spoke of, them to save;
And to the Word of witness, pure and true,
Of God in Christ that tells, direction gave.
How deeply anxious lived he, sorely tried,
Through many days of this, his earthly life,
As for an absent Lord he often sighed,
And longed for freedom from the land of strife!
An heart with sin abounding he deplored,
And looking inward, found but darkness there,
Till, looking Christward, with his soul restored,
In Jesus would he joy o’er dark despair.
How lowly, humble, broken-hearted, then
The saviour of Christ’s blessed name he breathed;
While of him knowledge taken was by men,
With Jesus he had been—the sword was sheathed.
Whene’er he strayed in passion’s angry hour—
A sinner saved by grace he aye must be—
With silent shame he grieved for that such power
Of sinful strife the world should in him see.
Far other the return he owed to make
To Him who saved him from the wage of sin;
But, debtor e’er, he sought for Jesus’ sake,
Discoveries of grace his heart to win.
So to the Word, with constancy, he went—
As to the stream the thirsting hart repairs—
That, by the Spirit, home a message sent
Might comfort bring, and animate his prayers.
And far was he from circumscribing close
The circle of compassionating prayer;
The fragrance sweet of Sharon’s dewy Rose
He longed that men in every clime should share.
To him they all who loved his Lord were dear,
Howe’er with them he saw not eye to eye,
And ever did he joy to think, though here
They differ might, comes union by and by.
United even here were they indeed,
As from the Vine they all their substance drew,
And fruitful were, according as their need
In Christ was met and they to Him were true.
So far away the thought of compromise
With all that to his Lord unfaithful proved,
He faithful put, nor ever, worldly wise,
The path of smooth expediency loved.
But now life’s troubled sea is left behind,
The world’s afflictions swallowed are for aye;
Without a taint of sin in heart or mind
At rest with Jesus ever shall he stay.
His body unto dust returns again,
Awaiting still Christ’s resurrection call,
To rise with those asleep in Him, who then
Shall sing their song of triumph, “Christ is all.”
“Eternal glory and dominion be
To Him who loved us when afar we strayed;
In His own blood from sin did set us free;
To God, His Father, royal priests we made.” —W.M.