Many hours we’ve spent together
Scenes of joy and grief have known;
Shall we spend the hours together
When the joy will be alone?
Sad indeed would be our parting
If we hoped to meet no more,
But although the tears are starting,
Look we to a brighter shore.
Dark indeed would be the morrow
When, apart we sadly roam,
If beyond this world of sorrow
We could see no happier home.
But we’ve heard a joyful story
Of a land that’s bright and fair,
And we hope to share its glory,
And to meet each other there.
Swiftly onward to the ocean
Roll the troubled waves of time,
Bearing us with every motion
Nearer to the blessed clime.
Soon the tears that now are starting
With their causes will be o’er;
Soon the hands now clasped in parting
Will be joined forevermore.
We have shared one home together,
We have sat around one board;
And we’ll find a home together
In the Paradise restored!
Down the spout a torrent gushed, to be pent up in
an old, dark tub, and made the slave of the washerwoman.
Would it not have been better for thee, O water, to
have fallen in the beautiful forest? to lie in the
bosom of the lily, or become a looking glass for the
many colored insects? “I would be useful,”
whispered the daughter of the cloud, “therefore
I have stooped to an humble action—I left
the abode of the lightning. My lot is a lowly
one; my life full of sorrow and humiliation.
I must pass through a fiery ordeal; I must be cast
out and despised by those whom I have served.
But then will be the time of my exaltation: the
blessed Sun will take pity upon me, and make me a
gem of beauty in the angels’ highway!”
[Though no application has been made of this similitude,
yet the truth designed to be taught is easily gathered:
The Christian may be called to many a lowly act—to
a ministration which will subject him to reproach
and suffering here, but the day of exaltation is sure
to come. “He that humbleth himself shall
be exalted.” The day hastens when from
the heavens the Saviour will descend, “who will
transform the body of our humiliation, that it may
be conformed to the body of his glory.”—Phil.
3:21 (Am. Bible Union Trans.). How
glorious will the humble workers of earth appear when
they are beautified by the Sun of righteousness in
the resurrection morning! That will be all Easter
day of surpassing loveliness.]
This is not home! from o’er the stormy sea
Bright birds of passage wing their way to me;
They bear a message from the loved and lost
Who tried the angry waves and safely crossed,
And now in homelike mansions find repose
Where billows never roar nor tempest blows.
