In Loving Memory

Oh, what a welcome from the friends of years,
Dear, aged Father-brother, thou would’st have
Within the gates of pearl! The golden street
Would echo and re-echo with their song—
“Ten thousand welcomes, aged pilgrim, home!”
For nigh a century thine arms and heart
Were opened wide to welcome every saint
Who loved the name of Jesus Christ thy Lord.
Those whom thou didst embrace, embrace thee now,
And many more besides, for in that home
Love beams in every eye and fills each heart!
And He whose welcome would them all excel—
The Guard and Guide of all thy pilgrim days,
Whom thou didst pray: “Leave me not long to roam
An exile from my home,” hath given thee place
In His own presence: rest and joy complete!
We view thy life, the distant and the near:
What hast thou wrought?—Two pillars towering high
Are left as landmarks in thy history;
One, “God is light,” the other, “God is love.”
Thy lip and life together testified
God’s “righteousness” and “love” in harmony.
His Word was deeply pondered in thy heart—
Esteemed more necessary than thy food;
Pondered to be obeyed: and thus God’s peace
Kept calm thy heart, and showed upon thy face
‘Mid many a storm; till, with thy latest breath,
“Peace passing understanding, God’s own peace,”
Told out the unruffled peace which dwelt within!
The Church—yea, all the world—is poorer now!
How we shall miss thee at the mercy-seat!
Thy constant intercession, morn and eve,
Will rise for us no more! Yet, God be praised,
Christ “ever lives “for us to intercede!
Thus, one by one, the great and good depart,
The longest earthly life finds here an end;
(An end which but begins the bliss of those
Who trust in Jesus’ blood and righteousness;)
But Christ, the “First and Last,” for aye remains.

—M. M. D.

Home Reached at Last.

Thy Lord’s sweet call obey—
Go, brother, go!
He did thy ransom pay:
Waiting thou long hadst been,
Feeding on pastures green;
Now to the long-loved scene—
Go, brother, go!

Love bound our souls in one—
Love from the throne!
Still, still that love flows on;
Now with Himself to dwell,
Whose grace thou long didst tell,
As an o’erflowing well—
Jesus alone!

Long life was thine to know,
Yet quickly past!
Bright the declining glow;
Meet for the glory band,
Ripe for the heavenly land,
’tis thy Lord’s command—
Home, home at last!

Albert Midlane.