God's Friendship

Human friendships, resting on the changeable foundation of humanity, cannot be more stable, more enduring, than the frail foundation which supports them. They exist to-day; and too often are dissolved and scattered to-morrow. But he, who on Christian principles possesses God's friendship will never find him changing and different in future from what he is at present. He is a friend to-day, to-morrow, and for ever.

— Religious Maxims (1846) CLXXVIII.

He Standeth at the Door

"My head is filled with dew, and my locks with the drops of the night." Cant. v. 9.

The stars are shining from their depths of blue,
And one is standing at the door and knocks;
He  knocks to enter in. His raven locks
Are heavy with the midnight's glittering dew.
He is our FRIEND; and great his griefs have been,
The thorns, the cross, the garden's deep distress,
Which he hath suff'ered for our happiness;
And shall we not arise, and let him in?
All hail, thou chosen one, thou source of bliss!
Come with thy bleeding feet, thy wounded side;
Alas, for us Thou hast endured all this;
Enter our doors, and at our hearth abide!
Chill are the midnight dews, the midnight air;
Come to our hearts and homes, and make thy dwelling there.

— American Cottage Life (1850).

Thou Giver of the Rising Light

I.
Thou Giver of the rising light,
Thou Author of the morning ray,
At whose command the shades of night
Are changed to bright and sudden day;
Thou too canst rend the clouded heart,
Enveloped in the shades of sin;
And let the light, that dwelt apart,
The glory and the gladness in.

II,
Oh God, our Father and our Friend,
Dark is the cloud, that wraps us now;
But not in vain our prayers ascend,
Nor hopeless at thy feet we bow.
'T is in the dark, distressing hour,
That thou dost hear thy people's cry;
And come and clothe them in thy power,
And hide them in thy majesty.

— American Cottage Life (1850).

Think Not That the Blest...

Think not that the blest, whom the Lord hath befriended,
Though scorned by the world, and though smitten with grief,
Will be left by the arm, that has once been extended,
To suffer and perish without its relief.

Oh, no! When the clouds of affliction and sorrow
Encircle their souls with the darkness of night,
Thy mercy, Oh God, like the sun of to-morrow,
Shall gleam on the shadows and turn them to light.

He leaves us awhile to the billow's commotion,
To see if our faith in the storm will remain;
But soon He looks out in his smiles, and the ocean
Is hushed from its threats, and is quiet again.

— American Cottage Life (1850).