Milford chronicle., 1888-03-09

he put that there. lie SAID: "On, some
times in the night l want to sing the praise
Of Jesus, and to get down and pray; then /
just take that plaid and wrap it around me
to keep myself from the cold.n Songs in the
night! Night of trouble has come down
upon many Of you. Commercial losses put
out one star slanderous abuse puts out an
other star, domestic bereavment has put out
a thousand lights, and gloom has been added
to gloom, and chill to chill, and sting to
sting, and one midnight has seemed to bor-
row the fold from another midnight to wrap
itself in more unbearable darkness; but
Christ has spoken peace to your heart, and
you can sing:
Jesus. lover Of my soul,
Let me to thy bosom fly,
While the pillows near me roll.
While the tempest still is high.
Hide me, oh, my Saviour hide
Till the storm of life is past,
Safe into the haven gaide;
Oh. receive my soul at last.
Songs in the night Songs in the night
For the sick, who have no one to turn tho hot
pillow, no one to put the taper on the stand,
no one to put ice on the temple, Or pour out
the soothing anodyne, or utter one cheerful
word-yet songs in the night For the poor,
who freeze in the winters cold, and swelter
in the summers heat, and MUNICH the hard
crusts that bleed the sore gums, and shiver
under blankets that cannot any longer be
patched, and tremble because rent day is
come and they may be set out on the side
walk, and looking into the starved face Of
child and seeing famine there and death
there, coming home from the bakery, and
SAYING, in the presence of the little faInishcd
ones: "Oh, my God, flour has gone upr'
Yet songs in the night! Songs iu tie
night For the widow who goes to get the
back pay Of her husband, slain by the ''sharp
shooters and knows it is the last help
she will have, moving ont Of a comfortable
home in desolation, death turning back from
the ezhausting cough, and the pale cheek,
and the lustefless eye, and refusing all re
lief. Yet songs in the night! Songs in the
night! For the soldier in the field hospital,
no surgeon to bind mp the gun shot fracture,
no water for the hot lips, no kind hand to
brush away the flies from the fresh wound,
no one to take the loving farewell, the groan-
ing of others poured into his own groan, the
blasphemy of others blowing up his own
spirit. the condensed bitterness Of dying
away from home among strangers. Yet
songs in the night! Songs in the night
"Ahrn said one dying soldier, ''tell my
mother that last night there was not one
cloud between my soul and Jesus. Songs in
the night! Songs in the night
The Sabbath day has come. From the
altars Of ten thousand churches has smoked
up the SAVIOR Of sacrifice. Ministers OF tie
gospel are now preaching in plain English,
in bread Scotch, in flowing Italian, in harsh
Choctaw. Gods people have assembled in
Quaker meeting house, and sailors bethel,
and kings chapel, and high lowered cathe-
dral They sang, and the song floated of
amidst the spice groves, or struck the ice
bergs, or floated of into the western pines, or
was drowned in the clamor of the great cities
Lumbermen sang it, and the factory girls,
and the children in the Sabbath class,
and the trained choirs in great as
semblages Trappers, with the same voice
with which they shouted yesterday in
the stag hunt and mariners with throats
that only few days ago sounded in the
hoarse blast Of the sea hurricane, they sang
is. One theme for the sermons. One burden
for the song. Jesus for the invocation
Jesus for the Scripture lesson. Jesus for the
baptismal font. Jesus for the sacranental
cup. Jesus for the benediction. But the day
of light and love. Again the churches will
be lighted Tides Of people again setting
down the streets Whole families coming up
the church aisle We must have one more
sermon, two prayers, three songs, and one
benediction. What shall we preach tonight
What shall we read! What shall it be, chill
drenl Aged men and women, what shall it
be? Young men and maidens, what shall it
4.
auditory there would come up thousands Of
quick and jubilant voices crying out, ''Let it
be Jesus! Jesusl'
We sing his birth-the barn that sheltered
him, the mother that nursed him, the cattle
that fed beside him, the angels that woke up
the shepherds, shaking light over the mid
night hills. We sing his ministry--the tears
he wiped away from the eyes Of the orphans;
the lame men that forgot their crutchcs; the
damsel who from the bier bounded out into
the sunlight, her locks shaking down over
the flushed check; the hungry thousand who
broke the bread as it blossomed into larger
loaves-that miracle by which boy with
five loaves and two fishes became the sutler
for a whole army We sing his sorrows-his
stone bruised feet, his aching rheart, his
mountain loneliness, his desert hunger, his
that shot through his last moments, and the
ocean Of torment that heaved
up against his cross in one foaming, wrath
full, omnipotent surge, the sun dashed out,
and the dead, shroud wrapped breaking open
their sepulchers, and rushing out to see what
was the matter. We sing his resurrection
the guard that could not keep MIN; tie sar-
row Of his disciples; the clouds piling up on
either side in pillared splendors as he went
through, treading the pathless air, higher
and higher, until he came to the foot Of the
throne, and all heaven kept jubilee at the
return Of the conquerer.
say once more, Christ is the everlasting
song. The very best singers sometimes get
tired; the strongest throats sometimes get
weary, and many who sang very sweetly do
not sing now, but / hope by the grace Of God
we will, after a while, go up and sing the
praises Of Christ where we will never be
weary. You know there are some songs that
arc especially appropriate for the home circle.
They stir the soul, they start the tears, they
turn the heart IN on itself, and keep sounding
after the tune has stopped, like some cathe-
dral bell which, long after the tap Of the
brazen tongue has ceased, keeps throbbing on
the air. Well, it viii be a home song in
heaven; all the sweeter because those who
sang with us in the domestic circle on earth
shall join that great harmony.
Jerusalem my happy home
Name ever dear 10 me;
When shall my labors have an end
In joy and peace in thee.
On earth we sang harvest songs as the
wheat came into the barn, and the barracks
were filed You know there is no such time
on q farm as when they get tho crops in; and
so in heaven it will be a harvest song on the