Days of my youth! ye have glided away;
Hairs of my youth! ye are frosted and gray;
Eyes of my youth! your keen sight is no more;
Cheeks of my youth! ye are furrow'd all o'er:
Strength of my youth! all your vigour is gone;
Thoughts of my youth! your gay visions are flown.
Days of my youth! I wish not your recall;
Hairs of my youth! I'm content you should fall;
Eyes of my youth! ye much evil have seen;
Cheeks of my youth! bathed in tears have you been;
Thoughts of my youth! ye have led me astray!
Strength of my youth! why lament your decay?
Days of my age! ye will shortly be past;
Pains of my age! but awhile can ye last;
Joys of my age! in true wisdom delight;
Eyes of my age! be religion your light;
Thoughts of my age! dread, not the cold sod;
Hopes of my age! be ye fix'd on your God!
C. Tucker.
Come, while the blossoms of thy years are brightest,
Thou youthful wanderer in a flowery maze;
Come, while the restless heart is bounding lightest,
And joy's pure sunbeams tremble in thy ways;
Come while sweet buds, like summer flowers unfolding,
Waken rich feelings in the careless breast;
While yet thy hand the ephemeral wreath is holding,
Come and secure interminable rest!
Come, while the morning of thy life is glowing,
Ere the dim phantoms thou art chasing die;
Ere the gay spell which earth is round thee throwing,
Fades like the crimson from a sunset sky;
Life hath but shadows, save a promise given,
Which lights the future with a fadeless ray;
O, touch the sceptre!-win a hope in Heaven;
Come, turn thy spirit from the world away!
Willis G. Clark.
Live that thy young and glowing breast
Can think of death without a sigh,
And be assured that life is best
Which finds us least afraid to die.-Eliza Cook.
FOR I bear them record that they have a zeal of God, but not according to knowledge. --Romans, x. 2.
It is good to be zealously affected always in a good thing.--Galatians, iv. 18.
As many as I love, I rebuke and chasten: be zealous, therefore, and repent.--Revelation, iii. 19.
FAREWELL to earth; my life of sense is o'er;
My heart is changed, I feel my bonds untied;
And casting every thought impure aside,
My guilty course abandon and deplore.
Fallacious leaders I obey no more;
I follow thee, refuse all other guide;
And ne'er did shipwrecked bark with broken side Loose from the shelves more anxious for a shore. And since I spent with risk of mortal harm, My life and dearest hours, nor gathered thence Profit or fruit, I crowd my sail to thee. Lord, I am turned! now let thy gracious arm Sustain me; and my future service be With zeal proportioned to my past offence.
From the Italian of Gabriel Fiamma.
Zeal is that pure and heavenly flame
The fire of love supplies;
While that which often bears the name,
Is self in a disguise.
True zeal is merciful and mild,
Can pity and forbear;
The false is headstrong, fierce, and wild;
And breathes revenge and war.
While zeal for truth the Christian warms,
He knows the worth of peace;
But self contends for names and forms,
Its party to increase.
Zeal has attained its highest aim,
Its end is satisfied,
If sinners love the Saviour's name,
Nor seeks it ought beside.
If, gracious God, in life's green, ardent year,
A thousand times thy patient love I tried;
With reckless heart, with conscience hard and sere,
Thy gifts perverted, and thy power defied:
O grant me, now that wintry snows appear
Around my brow, and youth's bright promise hide,
Grant me with reverential awe to hear
Thy holy voice, and in thy word confide!
Blot from my book of life its early stain!
Since days misspent will never more return,
My future path do thou in mercy trace;
So cause my soul with pious zeal to burn,
That all the trust which in thy name I place,
Frail as I am, may not prove wholly vain.
From the Italian of Pietro Bembo.
And weigh the doctrine, while the spirit 'scapes;
And in the carving of our cummin-seeds,
Our metaphysical hair-splittings, fail
To note the orbit of that star of love
It is well to be zealous for the truth,
God loveth not those who are lukewarm;
Fear not the reproach of the world;
Hide not thy light under a bushel;
Tell thy neighbour, or those in high places,
Of the sin which thou see'st them committing,
Yet not roughly, nor rudely, though firmly,
But temper thy zeal with discretion.
It is well to be zealous, for so were
Of old those who bore God's commission; Their hearts burned like coals from the altar,
And they pressed towards the mark of their calling. So do thou, in thy sphere and station,
Spread the truth as it dwelleth in Jesus;
In season and out be thou instant;
Let thy zeal be according to knowledge. Egone.
OUT of Zion, the perfection of beauty, God hath shined.--Psalm 1. 2. For the Lord hath chosen Zion; He hath desired it for His habitation.--Psalm cxxxii. 13.
Behold I lay in Sion a stumbling-stone and rock of offence; and whosoever believeth on Him shall not be ashamed.--Romans, ix. 33.
GLORIOUS things of thee are spoken,
Zion, city of our God!
He, whose word cannot be broken,
Formed thee for His own abode.
On the rock of ages founded,
What can shake Thy sure repose?
With salvation's walls surrounded,
Thou may'st smile at all thy foes.
Saviour, if of Zion's city
I through grace a member am,
Let the world deride or pity,
I will glory in the name.
Fading is the worldling's pleasure,
All his boasted pomp and show;
Solid joys, and lasting treasure,
None but Zion's children know.
Keep thou Zion-ward thy face,
Ask in faith the aid of grace,
Use the strength which grace shall give,
Die to self, in Christ to live.-Bernard Barton.
Go, walk about Zion, and measure the length,
Her walls and her bulwarks mark well;
Contemplate her palaces, glorious in strength,
Her towers and their pinnacles tell.
Then say to your children:-"Our stronghold is tried,
This God is our God to the end;
His people for ever his counsels shall guide,
His arm shall for ever defend."
By Babylon's proud stream we sate,
And tears gushed quick from every eye,
When our own Zion's fallen state
Came rushing to our memory;
And there, the willow-groves among,
Sorrowing, our silent harps we hung.
For there our tyrants in their pride,
Bade Judah raise the exulting strain,
And our remorseless spoilers cried,
"Come breaçhe your native hymns again."
Oh, how in stranger climes can we,
Pour forth Jehovah's melody?
When thou, loved Zion, art forgot,
Let this unworthy hand decay;
When Salem is remembered not,
Mute be these guilty lips for aye!
Yea, if in transport's livelier thrill,
Thou, Zion, art not dearer still!-Thomas Dale.
He who slumbereth not, nor sleepeth,
His ancient watch around us keepeth;
Still sent from His creating hand,
New witnesses for truth shall stand-
New instruments to sound abroad
The Gospel of a risen Lord;
To gather to the fold once more
The desolate and gone astray,
The scattered of a cloudy day,
And Zion's broken walls restore.
The Lord shall comfort Zion,
Her places waste restore,
And, of her silent wilderness,
Make Eden bloom once more;
His garden she shall then become,
And worthy of His choice,
Gladness and thanks in all her smiles,
And music in her voice.
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