The Londonderry sifter. (South Londonderry, Vt.) 1883-19??, 1888-03-15

|
Jesus, lover OF my soul
| Let me to Thy bosom fly.
| While tho bilows near me roll,
| While the tempest still Is high.
| Hide me, OH my Saviour! hide
| Till the storm of life Ia past,
| Safe into the haven guide;
| o. receive my soul at last
Songs in the night Songs in the night!
| For the sick, who have no one to turn the 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 the
child and seeing famine there and death
there coming home from the bakery, and
saying, in the presence of the little famished
ones: "Oh, my God, -four has gone up!n
Yet songs in the night Songs in the
night! For the widow who goes to get the
back pay of her husband, slain by the ''sharp
shooters" atid knows it Is the last help
she will have, moving out of comfortable
home in desolation, death turning back from
| the exhausting cough, and the pale cheek,
and the lusterless eye, and refusing all re-
lief, Yet songs id the night! Songs In the
night For the soldier in the field hospital,
no surgeon to bind up 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 plowing up his own
| spirit, the condensed bitterness of dying
! away from home among strangers. Yet
songs in the night! Songs in the night!
| "Ah !" said one dying soldier, "tell my
| mother that last night there was not ohs
| cloud between my soul and Jesus. Songs in
the night Songs in the night!
the Sabbath day has come. From the
affairs of ten thousand churches has smoked
up the SAVIOR Of sacrifice. Ministers Of the
gospel are now preaching in pain English,
In broad Scotch, in flowing Italian, in harsh
Choctaw. Gods people have assembled in
Hindoo temple, and Moravian church, and
Quaker meeting house, and sailors bethel,
and kings chapel, and high lowered cathe-
dral They sang, and the. song foated off
amidst the spice groves, or struck the ice
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.
pemblages Trappers, with the same voice
with which they shouted yesterday il
the stag hunt. and mariners with throats
that only few days ago sounded in the
uOoi 90 DldSu VI lno std HUTTlCdll6, Uiley SstUp
It. One theme for the sermons. One burden
TOR the song. Jesus for the invocation.
Jesus for the Scripture lesson Jesus for the
baptismal font. Jesus for the sacramental
tup. JESUS for the benediction. But the day
will go by. 1t will roll away on swift wheels
be lighted. Tides of people again setting
1own 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 to night!
What shall we read3 What shall it be, chill
iren! Aged men and women, what shall it
be! Young men and maidens, what shall it
bes If you dared to break the silencs of this
auditory there would come up thousands of
quick and -jubilant voices crying out, "Est it
be Jesus! Jesus!
We sing His birth-the barn that sheltered
Him, the mother that nursed H m, 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 eye of the orphans;
the lame men that forgot tn cir cIutches; tho
lamsel who from the bier bounded out into
the sunlight, her locks shaking down over
The flushed cheek; the hungry thousand who
broke the bread as it blossomed into larger
loaves-the miracle by which q boy with I
i've loaves and two fishes became the sutler |
Tor a whole army We sing His sorrow-His |
stone bruised feet, His aching heart, His |
uiouAoohl ioilCliHcso, LID ueoeTD luLgeT, HIS
storm -pelted body, the eternity of anguish |
that shot through His last moments, and the |
mmeasurabie ocean of torment that heaved |
1p against His cross in one foaming, wrath
tul, omnipotent surge, the sun dashed out,
md the dead, shroud wrapped, breaking open
their sepulchres, and rushing out to sec what |
was the matter. We sing His resurrection
,he guard that could not keep Hin; the sor>
row of His disciples; the clouds piling up on
either side in pillared splendor as He went
through, treadng the painless air, higher
and higher, until He came to the foot of the
throne. and all heaven kept jubilee at the
return of the Conqueror.
say once more, Christ is the everlasting
song. The very best singers sometimes get
weary, and many who sang very sweetly do
not sing now, but hope by the grace Of God
we will. after n WHILE 60 up and sing the
praises Of Christ where we will never be
weary. You know there are some songs that
are especially appropriate fer 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. WE'LL it will be home song in
heaven; all the sweeter because those who
sang with us in the domestic circle Oh earth
shall join that great harmony.
Jerusalem, my happy home
Name ever dear to 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 filled You know there is no such time
on farm as when they get the crops in; and
so in heaven it will be a harvest song on the
part Of those who on earth sowed in tears
and reaped in joy. Lift up your heads, We
everlasting gates and let the sheaves come
inl Angels shout all through the heavens.
and multitudes come down the hills crying:
Harvest home! harvest home!"
There is nothing more bewitching to ones
ear than the song of sailors far out at sea,
whether in day or night, as they pull away
30 the song in heaven will be a sailors song.
They were voyagers once. and thought they
could never get to shore, and before they
could get things snug and trim the cyclone
struck them. But now they are safe. Once
they went with damaged rigging guns of
distress booming through tho storm; but the
pilot came aboard, and he brought them into
the harbor. Now they sing of the breakers
past, the lighthouses that showed them where
to sail, the pilot that took them through the
straits, the eternal shore on which they
landed.
Ay, it will be the children's song You
know very well that the vast majority Of
our race die in infancy, and it is estimated
that eighteen thousand millions of the little
ones are standing before God. When they
shall rise up about the throne to sing, the
millions and the millions of the little ones
ahl that will be music for you! These played
IN the streets of Babylon and Thebes; these
piucked lilies from the foot of OIivet while
Y Chrlst was preaching about them these waded
IN Sloan; these were victims of -Herod's
! massacre; these were thrown to crocodiles or
lnto the hre; these came up from Christian
homes, and these were foundings on the city
commons.chdren everywhere in all that
land; children in the towers. children on the
seas OF glass, children on the battlcments.
Ah. If you do not like children, do not 90
there. They are in vast majority. and what
a song when they lift it around about the
throne!
The Christian singers and composers of all
ages will be there to join in the song. Thomas
Hastings will be there Lowell Mason will
be there Bradbury will be there. Beetho-
ven and Mozart will be there. They who
sounded the cymbals and the trumpets in the
ancient temples will be there. The forty
harpers that stood at the ancient
dedication will be there. The two hundred
fbaf tal hat do 1,f