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TREASURES OF DARKNESS.



BYE. L,.£^*nyij



AUTHORESS OF"NlUHT WATCHES



'• I will give thee the treasures of darkness. " — Isaiah xlv. 3.

" We are troubled on every side, yet not distressed : we are
perplexed, but not in despair : persecuted, but not forsake > : cast
down, but not destroyed : always bearing about in the body the
dying of the Lord Jesus, that the life also of Jesus might be made
manifest iu our body."— 2 Cor. iv, 8, 9, 10.



PHILADELPHIA :
WILLIS P. HAZARD,

No. 178 CHESTNUT STRKET.
1854 .

. . ' Z /M



THE NKW YORt'

PUW.1C LIBRARY

ABTW. UBf«X AND

TILOEN rOUNDAHONB

1 1938 L



ENTERED ACCORDING TO THE ACT OF CONGRESS IN THE
YEAR EIGHTEEN HUNDRED AND FIFTY-FOUR, BY FRANCIS
■WELLS, IN THE CLERK'S OFFICE OF THE DISTRICT COURT
OF THE UNITED STATES, IN AND FOR THE EASTERN
DISTRICT OF PENNSYLVANIA.



o



KING & BAIKD, PRINTERS.






at



n



(Contents.

Page

Treasures of Darkness, 7

The Unbroken Reed, 1^

The Battle of Life, ^^^

Sleep, • ^'^

Purity, ^'*

Benedicite, ^"^

Pain: a Mystery, ■ '"^^

Darkness, ••• ^^

Paraphrase of the Seven Penitential Psalms,

Psalm 6th, 43

Psalm 32nd, ,.- 47

Psalm 38th, 51

Psalm 51st,.. 5"

Psalm 102nd, 62

Psalm ISOth, C7

Psalm 143rd, 70

The Light of Life, 73

Heaviness, ' '

Weep Not ^^

The Cross of Flowers, S3

Little Anne, ^7

The Gathered Lily, 0^

The Dying Girl, ^5

The First Birth-day in Heaven, 98

Lines, 103

The Temple 1^4

Sudden Death, 1^^

Love 1"



Flowers, 114

CQ Precious Stonr , 117

^ The Storm Wino, 120



12 CONTEXTS.

Page

Watching, 123

Night Prayers 126

Christian Joy, 131

Pain, 136

Hope, 141

The Sea of Life, 143

Sunday Flowers, 147

Thine Own, 151

Patience, 152

The Angel of Sickness, 156

I WOULD SEE Jesus, 160

Repentance, 163

The Much Forgiven, 167

Treasure, 168

My Prospect, 172

Beauty, 176

Desire, 180

Dimness, 185

Support, 189

Happiness, 193

Fire 198

The Cup and Baptism, 202

Advent, 205

All Saints' Day, 208

The Cup of Blessing, 211

Trust, 215

Prayer, 219

The Ascension, 222

Faithfulness, 226

Deo Gratias, 232

The Corn of Wheat, 235

Light and Darkness, 239

Easter Triumph, 242

*' What have they seen in Thy House?" 247

Pray for me 251



€ttMiuts d larktiEss.



S e 11 n r fi e n 31 c e ft.

" A brui?ed reed will He not break."

" A bruised reed — unsightly, worthless thing !
Trembling and shivering as the passing air
Touches its form : — frail, crushed, and withering, —

We see no beauty there V
True, there is none : no loveliness, no grace,
Not ev'n the freshness of a flower's pure smile,
For winds and storms have left their mournful trace,

And earthy stains defile.



Yet is this bruised, but iinhrohen reed,
A monument of mercy to outlast
Temples and gorgeous shrines of earth, that speed
To their destruction fiist.



14 THE UNBROKEN REED.

Bruised and defaced by lengthened suffering, I
Trust in His love, who will not break the thread
Of life, which binds me to Himself on High,

From whence is healing shed.



Oh grant that I, dear Lord, who cannot sweep.
The noble harp Thy kingly minstrel swept
In ardor of devotion, or in deep

Repenting strains that wept,-
May find a lowly place in that grand choir.
Composed of grateful hearts that long to bring.
Some token of their earnest, strong desire

To glorify their King !



The royal harp requires a royal hand,

To touch and wake its wondrous music right :

The highest realms of Poetry demand.

Souls of according height :-
But I, oh God, in deep humility.
Essay to breathe a whispered strain of praise :
Mif music must the bruised reed's effort be

Its meaner voice to raise.



THE UNBROKEN REED. 15

Yet Thou .refusest not tlie weakest meed,
When truly offered by a contrite heart ;
Oh let Thy princely Spirit fill the reed,

And teach poetic art !
Let me not hear far off, the holy sound
Of wind that bloweth where it lists, but bring
The gale to breathe within my spirit's bound.

And heavenly anthems sing.



Ah, surely while Thy mercy keeps unbroken.
The bruised reed. Thy tenderness will deign
To let some grateful melodies be spoken, —

^^Song born of pain !"
And if, from my frail heart and trembling tongue,
A strain of any harmony arise.
It is by Thy indwelling Spirit sung,

An echo from the skies !



ZQt 35ottre of Cife.

" There is no discharge in that war." Eccles. viii. 8.

The awful conflict that was waged by Christ, the

Prince of Peace,
Against the power of evil, while time lasts, can

never cease :
His Body, the Church militant, must follow where

He led.
To prove her mystic union with her victorious Head.
And every child of hers and Thine, Almighty Con-
queror, must
Assume the place which in the ranks Thou dost to

him entrust ;
Thy banner over us is Love, and where it flutters

free.
The faithful soldier of the Cross is pledged in arms

to be.



THE BATTLE OF LIFE. 17

We know our foes, — the World, the Flesh, strength-
ened by Satan's power,

Are round us, watching day and night, for some
unguarded hour.

When they successfully shall strike : a dread,
resistless host,

Were we not guarded in the strife by God, the
Holy Ghost.

Greater is He that is with us, than he who leadeth
them !

The servants of Almighty God, the devil may con-
temn :

We may be wounded in the fight, — our weakness is
our oion ;

We cannot be o'ercome at last, — our strength is
GocVs alone.



The battle often presseth hard, and wearieth our

soul.
But in the power of God's might, — clad in His

armor whole.
We will the evil day withstand, and all the devil's

wiles.
With which, when broad attacks have failed, he

simple hearts beguiles.
2*



18 THE BATTLE OF LIFE.

We wrestle not with flesh and blood : With princi-
palities,

And rulers of the world's gross night, our awful
contest lies ;

What can defend us against these ? What weapon
can oppose

This spiritual wickedness, — this high place of our
foes?



The armor which our God supplies ! The Spirit's

holy sword !
This only can protect our souls, — that only, help

afford.
Girded with Truth, and shod with Peace, and having

on our breast.
The plate of Righteousness, we're safe; we're more

than safe, we're hlest.
Salvation's helmet guards our head; and taking

Faith's strong shield.
And praying always with all prayer, — can such an

army yield ?
No ! were ten thousand times more foes to meet at

Satan's blast.
Confessors of the name of Christ will manfully stand

fast.



THE BATTLE OF LIFE. 19

Yet oh ! the fiery darts are keen, and our infirmity
May well shrink back, altho' Grod's grace will never

let us flee.
I often feel strange weariness, and wish the fight

was o'er,
And life's sad battle ended for ever — ever more !
Mine is a weak and coward heart, that sinks when

pain assails,
And only by God's sovereign grace, in conflict e'er

prevails ;
Were I one moment left alone, the enemy would

come,
And take possession of his prey, — poor, helpless,

weak and dumb.



But Christ will never leave me ! I am His, and He

is mine 3
He bought me with His precious blood, and sealed

me with His sign :
He gives me strength and comfort : When some

fierce dart is hurled.
He says, " Be of good cheer, for I have overcome

the world :"
And when from Satan's quiver, fear's keen shaft

assails my faith.
He says, "My child, remember, when I died, I

conquered Death !"



20 THE BATTLE OF LIFE.

When I'm wearied by my own heart's sin, my

courage to refresh,
He says, '^ I, in a servant's form, condemned sin in

the flesh.''

Captain of our Salvation ! Thou Who wast perfect

made.
Thro' Thy mysterious suflFering, let me not be afraid :
I own my weakness, and my dread of every form of

pain,
Yet would I not Thy banner leave, deceitful rest to

gain:
'Tis just and right that Thou should'st bring Thy

children by the way
Thyself did'st tread, when in man's flesh, his ransom

Thou did'st pay ;
If Thou art leading in Thy might, I'll fear no

suff'erings,
" My heavenly Father knoweth I have need of all

these things.''

It is a comfort to my soul, altho' I am so weak,
I still belong to Jesus' host, — one whom He came

to seek :
I go not up to fight ahne ; my brethren and our

Head,
In steadfast constancy advance. Love's banner o'er

us spread :



THE BATTLE OF LIFE. 21

If I in my appointed post, stand fast and firm,

I know,
The Spirit's seven-fold might is near, to overcome

each foe ;
Tho' my rank is not exalted, nor my sphere of duty

large.
For the meanest faithful soldier, in God's war is no

discharge.



Sometimes my shield is weakly held, and then a fiery

dart.
Thrown by the mighty strength of hate, wounds

my unguarded heart ;
Yet still Christ's gentleness is proved, — He draws

the shaft away,
And heals me when I own my fault, and for His

mercy pray j
But if a friend whose partial eye hath not my fall

perceived.
With love's applause exults o'er some slight vict'ry

I've achieved.
Oh ! how the recent sin-wound smarts ! My soul's

deep agony.
Might well deserve I should b% spared this added

misery.



22 THE BATTLE OF LIFE.

My Master, Thou Who knowesfc my sin ; Thou Lord

of wondrous grace,
To Thee alone I dare appeal, — let me not lose my

place
Beneath the sacred Banner where my hopes and joys

abide ;
Let me not, worthless, be discharged from warring

at Thy side !
Arm and prepare Thy servant. Lord, for what Thy

wisdom sees.
Is needful for me to pass through, ere I my King

can please.
I have no will ; life, strength, time, powers, — these

are no longer mine;
Yet oh ! what blessedness I gain, because they all

are Thine !



Sfcep.

I wish I were asleep !
How oft the longing cometh o'er me,
When hours of pain are stretched before me,

For slumbers calm and deep :

Yes, I would gladly steep
My spirit in forgetfulness awhile.
And enter happy dreamland with a smile,

Nor wake again to weep.



I wish I might repose,
From earth and her distractions weary ;
From Satan's hosts of sin, a dreary

And well filled camp of foes !

Oh how I'd hail the close
Of every day, if I might sleep once more
My childhood's sleep, the rest I knew before

I knew that life had woes !



24 SLEEP.

I wish that sleep would fly
To soothe whene'er I ask her blessing;
And with her lulling, soft caressing,

Hush my impatient cry

Of pain or agony !
How oft would I escape from suffering,
If she would round me fold her downy wing,

And on my pillow lie.



I wish that I might rest.
Without the oft recurring dreaming.
That startles me with life-like seeming,

Even on Slumber's breast.

My wandering mind, possest
By many a fearful fancy uncontrolled,
Starts back, not daring even to enfold

Her own, her bidden guest.



Oh murmuring spirit, cease
To wish for Sleep's attendant, quiet ;
Thou know'st not what thou might' st lose by it,

On earth ask not for peace !

If God should thee release
From suffering below, the penalty
Might everlasting pain and sorrow be ;

Heaven is not reached thro' ease.



SLEEP.



May I then wish for death ?
The sleep good men enjoy when falling
Into true life, on Jesus calling

With glad hope's parting breath ?

The rest, of which Christ saith,
cc He is not dead who on My name believes," ^


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