The Ideal Pastor

The Ideal Pastor by Bishop Hare

Give me the pastor whose graces shall
possess
Of an ambassador the just address;
A father's tenderness, a shepherd's care,
A leader's courage, which the cross can
bear;
A ruler's awe, a watchman's wakeful eye,
A fisher's patience, and a laborer's toil;
A guide's dexterity to disembroil;
A prophet's inspiration from above;
A teacher's knowledge, and a Savior's
love.

Chide Mildly the Erring

Chide Mildly the Erring

Chide mildly the erring,
Kind language endears;
Grief follows the sinful,
Add not to their tears.
Avoid with reproaches
Fresh pain to bestow;
The heart which is stricken,
Needs never a blow.

Chide mildly the erring,
Jeer not at their fall;
If strength were but human,
How weakly were all.
What marvel that footsteps
Should wander astray!
What tempests o'er shadow
Life's wearisome way!

Chide mildly the erring,
Entreat them with care;
Their natures are mortal,
They need not despair.
We all have some frailty,
We all are unwise,
And the grace which redeems us
Must come from the skies.

Inasmuch

 INASMUCH

Our Lord is the Vine in the garden of God, -
The tender young branches are we;
Those who have thus labored for. us in His name,
Said Jesus, " Have done it to me."

Those guiding our footsteps in flower-bordered paths
Of rectitude, virtue, and truth,
Are training the branches to cling to the Vine
In the trying temptations of youth.

No service in life you can render the Vine,
Comes nearer its warm, loving heart,
Than leading the tendrils upon it to lean,
For strength, from life's earliest start.

Then store our young minds with the fruit of His love,
Fresh vigor in us to recruit;
And when to maturity grown every branch,
Will yield Him abundance of fruit.

Brotherhood

 BROTHERHOOD.

Love will work no ill to neighbor,
But will do him good;
God will know His true disciples
By their brotherhood.

Now, look at the white fields yonder,
See the grain so ripe to reap;
Then say if you're going to help them,
Or to fold your hands and sleep.

There are children by the thousand
That have never heard God's name,
On the street or round the hearth-stone,
Save in cursing or blaspheme.

His dear name, the gentle Jesus
Who loved children, oh, so much!
Ever waiting but to bless them
With divine and loving touch.

His kind heart in tender pity
For his lambs is yearning still,
And their souls are in our keeping; -
Shall we save, or shall we kill ?

Like a Cain we may not slay them,
But with thoughtless, cold neglect;
Is this true, my Christian hearers,
Stop a moment and reflect.

If God asks you for your brother,
At His judgment bar some day,
Will you say, " I'm not his keeper,"
Hide your face and turn away?

If you do, the rocks and mountains
Will not shield you from his wrath;
For He is a God of justice,
Though He tender mercies hath.

'Tis a sad and gloomy picture
Drawn with heavy heart and bowed;
But, thank God! the silver lining's
Just behind the darkened cloud.

You who have been blessed with plenty,
Homes of love and Christian grace;
Can, with generous heart consenting,
Swiftly this sad scene erase.

All the cloud may be one splendor,
Radiating floods of light,
If our love for one another
Is but measured in God's sight.

A Cry For Rest

A CRY FOR REST

Lord, a whole long day of pain

Now at last is o'er!

Ah, how much we can sustain

I have felt once more;

Felt how frail are all our powers,

And how weak our trust;

If thou help not, those dark hours

Crush us to the dust.

Could I face the coming night

If thou went not near?

Nay, without Thy love and might

I must sink with fear:

Round me falls the evening gloom,

Sights and sounds all cease.

But within this narrow room

Night will bring no peace.

Other weary eyes may close.

All things seek their sleep;

Hither comes no soft repose,

I must wake and weep.

Come then, Jesus, o'er me bend.

Give me strength to cope

With my pain, and gently send

Thoughts of peace and hope.

Draw my weary heart away

From this gloom and strife,

And these fever pains allay

With the dew of life;

Thou canst calm the troubled mind;

Thou its dread canst still;

Teach me to be all resigned

To my Father's will.

Then if I must wake and weep

All the long night through,

Thou the watch with me wilt keep,

Friend and guardian true;

In the darkness thou wilt speak

Lovingly with me.

Though my heart may vainly seek

Words to breathe to thee.

Wheresoe'er my couch is made,

In thy hands I lie;

And to thee alone for aid

Turns my longing eye:

Let my prayer grow weary never.

Strengthen thou th' oppressed;

In thy shadow, Lord, for ever

Let me gently rest.

Himself

HIMSELF

ONCE it was the blessing,
Now it is the Lord ;
Once it was the feeling,
Now it is His Word;
Once His gifts I wanted,
Now the Giver own;
Once I sought for healing,
Now Himself alone.

Once 'twas painful trying,
Now 'tis perfect trust;
Once a half salvation,
Now the uttermost;
Once 'twas ceaseless holding,
Now He holds me fast;
Once 'twas constant drifting,
Now my anchor's cast.

Once 'twas busy planning,
Now 'tis trustful prayer;
Once 'twas anxious caring,
Now He has the care;
Once 'twas what I wanted,
Now what Jesus says;
Once 'twas constant asking,
Now 'tis ceaseless praise.

Once it was my working,
His it hence shall be;
Once I tried to use Him,
Now He uses me;
Once the power I wanted,
Now the Mighty One;
Once for self I labored,
Now for Him alone.

Once I hoped in Jesus,
Now I know He's mine;
Once my lamps were dying,
Now they brightly shine;
Once for death I waited,
Now His coming hail,
And my hopes are anchored,
Safe within the vail. 

Look To Jesus

LOOK TO JESUS

Are you looking at your sins and failures?
Look to Jesus.
Are you seeking to be saved by trying?
Look to Jesus.
One sight of Him is worth a thousand tears,
One word from Him will banish all your fears,
One smile from Him, oh, how it helps and cheers,
Look away to Jesus.

Are you looking at your grief and sorrow?
Look to Jesus.
Are you anxious for the coming morrow?
Look to Jesus.
One sight of Him will melt your clouds away,
One word from Him will turn your night to day,
One smile from Him illumine all your way,
Look away to Jesus.

Has the vision of the world defiled you?
Look to Jesus.
Has some smiling face of clay beguiled you?
Look to Jesus.
One look at Him, and earth no more can charm,
One word from Him, and naught can e'er alarm,
One smile from Him will Satan's wiles disarm,
Look away to Jesus.

Are you looking at your heart for feeling?
Look to Jesus.
Are you looking for some sign of healing?
Look to Jesus.
Look out, not in, and stop your vain repining,
Look past the cloud and see the silver lining,
He is your Sun and He is ever shining,
Look away to Jesus.

Are you looking at the people round you?
Look to Jesus.
Do the things that sometimes come astound you?
Look to Jesus.
Look unto Him, for none but He can guide,
Look unto Him, no matter what betide,
Look unto Him, He always is beside,
Look away to Jesus.

On Eagle's Wings

ON EAGLES' WINGS

MOUNTING up with wings as eagles,
Waiting on the Lord we rise;
Strength receiving, life renewing,
How our spirit heavenward flies!
Then our springing feet returning
To the pathway of the saint,
We shall run and not be weary,
We shall walk and never faint.

Oh, we need these heights of rapture
Where we mount on eagles' wings;
Then returning to life's duties,
All our heart exultant springs.
This our every burden lightens
Till, with sweet, divine constraint,
We can run and not be weary,
We can walk and never faint. 

Holding On The Way

 HOLDING ON THE WAY

'Tis the promise of God, and it never can fail,
Unto all who will trust and obey;
Though trials may press, and though foes may assail,
The righteous shall hold on his way.

I shall hold on my way for He holds my hand,
And He'll not let me stumble or stray;
While I heed His voice and obey His command,
I surely shall hold on my way.

Life Purpose

       A story is told of Rubens that during his sojourn as ambassador to the Court of Philip in Spain, he was detected at work upon a painting by a courtier, who, not knowing much about his true fame, exclaimed in surprise, "What! does an ambassador to his Catholic Majesty amuse himself with painting pictures?" "No," replied Rubens, "the painter sometimes amuses himself with diplomacy."

"The serious business of life is the producing of a good character; all else is pastime."

These noble ambitions for a true life are put in verse by H. H. Barston:

To face each day of life

Nor flinch from any task;

To front the moment's strife

And only courage ask.

To be a man unawed

By aught but heaven's command;

Tho men revile or plaud.

To take a stand - and stand.

To fill my life with toil,

With God's free air and light;

To shun the things that spoil,

That hasten age and night;

To sweat beneath my hod,

Nor ask a better gift

From self or man or God

Than will and strength to lift.

To keep my spirit sweet

Tho head and hand be tired;

Each brother man to greet,

Nor leave him uninspired;

To keep my spirit fed

On God unceasingly,

That none may lack his bread

Who walk this way with me.

The Voice of God

THE VOICE OF GOD

by Jane Van Allen

When life is sad, and earth seems drear, 

 I feel affliction's rod;
"To some new work" a voice I hear,
It is the Voice of God.

When here, sometimes, my way is hedged.
My sky seems all one cloud.
The more I try, the closer wedged.
To me a Voice speaks loud.

I look some duty then to see.
Thus guided by the rod.
I know the Hand, That's leading me,
I know the Voice of God.