The semi-weekly messenger. [volume] (Wilmington, N.C.) 1897-1908, 1898-06-28

I11LlC LldA 40 ohCA l. Sc , "a
four have been d~esolated-one lamb
gone out of this fold, n flower pluck
ed from that garland. n golden link
broken from that chain, here n bright
light put out and there another n
yonder another. With UGH griefs how
are you to rest? Will there ever be
a power tina can attune that silent
voice, or kindle the Iuster Of that clcs-
ed eye, or put spring and dance into
that little foot? When we bank up the
Dust over the dead, is the sod never to
be broken? Is the cemetery to hear
no sound but the tire of the Learse
wheel or the tap Of the bell at the
gate as the long professions come in
with their awful burdens of grief? Is
the bottom of the grave gravel and
the top dust? No. no, no, The tomb
is only a place where we wrap our
robes about us for a pleasant nap on
our way home. The swelIings OF Jor-
dan will only wash off the lust of the
From the top OF the grave we
catch a glimpse of the towers glinted
with the sun that never sets.
GLORIOUS CONSOLATION.
Oh. We whose locks are wet with the
dews Of the night of grief; We whose
hearts are heavy, because those we'll
known footsteps DUN no more at the
doorway, yonder is our rest, There is
David triumphant, but once he be-
loaned Absalom. There is Abraham
enthroned, but once he wept for Sa-
rah. There is Paul exultant. but he
once sat with his feet in the stocks.
There is Payson radiant with imnor-
tai health, but on earth he was al
ways sick. No toll, to tears. no part
lngs, no strife, 10 agonizing cough,
no night. No storm to rufle the crvs-
TAI sea. NO alarm to strike from the
cathedral towers. No dirge t%hrobbing
from seraphic harps. No tremor in the
everlasting song, but rest-perfect
rest-unending rest.
Into hat rest how many loved ones
have gone! Some put down the work of
mldllfe, feeling they could hardly be
spared from the store or shop for a
day, but are to be spared from il for
ever. Some went in old age. One
came tottering on his staff and used to
sit at the foot of the pulpit, his wrink-
led face radiant with the light that
falls from the throne of God. Another
having lived a life of Christian con-
SIstency here, ever busy with kind
nesses for her children, her heart full
of that meek and quiet spirit that is
in the sight of God of great price, sud-
denly her c~Ountenance was tra%nsfigur-
ed, n the gate was opened, and she
took her place amid that great cloud
OF witnesses that hover about the
thronei
Glorious consolation! They are not
e. You cannot make me believe
they are dead. They have only moved
On. With more love than that with
which they greeted us on earth they
watch us from their high place, and
their voices cheer us in our struggle
for the sky. Hail, spirits blessed. now
that we have passed the flood and won
the crown. With weary feet we press
up the shining way until in everlasting
reunion we hall meet again. Oh,
won't it be grand when. our conflicts
done and our partings over, we shall
clasp hands and cry out, This is
heaven?"
By the thrones Of yOur departed kin
dred, by their gentle hearts and the
tenderness and love with which they
now call you from the skies, I beg you
start on the highroad to heaven. II
the everlasting rest may we all meet
One of the old writer's wished he
could have seen three things: Rome ir
it's prosperity; Paul preaching; Christ
in the body. I have three wishes
First, to see Christ in glory, surround.
ed by His redeemed; second, to SEE
Christ in glory, surrounded by his re.
deemed; third, to see Christ in glory
surrounded by his redeemed.
"When on my new f1edged wings I rist
To tread those shores beyond the skies
I'll run Trough every golden street
And ask Zach blissful sou [ meet,
Where is the God whose praises y
sing?
Oh, lead me, stranger, to your king.