Poems.
by Rebekah Smith.
PREFACE.
A small volume of poems ent.i.tled, "Home Here and Home in Heaven," by Annie R. Smith, appeared shortly after her death, in 1855. Her numerous friends wishing some account of her life and last sickness, have from time to time desired me to prepare such a sketch for publication. I have also been requested to publish in connection therewith, a collection of my own poetical efforts. This is the immediate occasion of the appearance of the present volume, the publication of which, circ.u.mstances have conspired to delay till the present time. It lays no claim to literary merit, but professes to be only a description in rhyme of some of the ordinary experiences of life, and the common feelings of the heart. I have appended some additional pieces written by Annie R. Smith, and some by Uriah Smith, which I have desired to see published in this form. It is commended to the charitable consideration of friends, with the hope that its appearance may prove a gratification and a benefit to some.
Mrs. Rebekah Smith.
West Wilton, N. H.
POEMS.
Life"s Conflict.
In the deep recess of the inmost heart, Where Satan tempts and angels come to shield, Are foes by which we would be overcome, Were Christ not with us on the battle-field.
The tempter, seeking whom he may devour, Would sift as wheat, and finally prevail; But Jesus intercedes and prays for us, That faith in these dread conflicts may not fail.
These calls unheeded, who the end can know?
The Spirit grieved and angels forced to leave, The victims, though unconscious, hastening where No pardoning love is found, and no reprieve.
If yet there"s hope, one mighty effort make To conquer, and the enemy defeat; Watch unto prayer, in Jesus Christ abide, And hasten to be made in him complete.
No true enjoyment here aside from this.
No other name on earth e"er to be given, Through him we must be cleansed and purified, Or closed to us will be the gates of Heaven.
Christian Love.
Jesus sees, he feels, he pities; he for us keen anguish knew, He was numbered with transgressors; harmless, but his friends were few.
Those immersed in love"s deep ocean, nothing will or can offend; They will bow in sweet submission, knowing Heaven will them defend.
Let us then our suffering brother seek where"er his lot is cast; Priests and Levites having seen him, on the other side have pa.s.sed; But of G.o.d he"s not forsaken; He has known each bitter pang; He has seen his tears and sorrows, and has known from whence they sprang.
Jesus sees when best to succor, every wrong will bring to light; He will have obedient children who in doing good delight, Who will move in love and pity, bleeding wounds to soothe and bind, Good Samaritans, who ever seek some path of love to find.
Courage new is then imparted, chilling words no more oppress; Oh! for more true kindred spirits, who would make our sufferings less.
Lord forgive thine erring people; form them for thyself alone; Then they"ll bear each other"s burdens, calling nought they have their own.
Then each suffering child of sorrow would be watched with tender care, Love and pity for the erring would be felt and witnessed there.
Strife and jealousy would vanish; love be felt that works no ill; Peace, sweet peace, and joy and gladness, would each home and bosom fill.
Love Not the World.
Love not the world, trust not its joys; uncertain is their stay; Its treasures I"ve so highly prized, on wings have flown away.
Its riches I would not recall, their loss would not deplore; Content I"ll be if but my Lord salvation"s joys restore.
Nature inclines us all to seek, a rich and grand career; Undue attachment will but make our losses more severe.
Hardly we know how much we love our friends and things below, Till called to see them one by one from our possession go.
How often then the stricken heart deplores no comfort left, Forgetting we have blessings still, of which we"re not bereft.
Let houses, lands and splendor go, surroundings all upset, If home is where we"ve friends to love, and friends to love us yet.
With such a home, no matter where, how unadorned the place, If but my Lord"s, he"ll visit there, and with his presence grace.
Thus consecrated to the Lord, his glory will be there.
How blest the place where oft is heard the voice of praise and prayer.
Be I but meet for such a place, where angels camp around, Where truth and duty are proclaimed, and works of love abound.
The poor and friendless there resort and find their wants supplied, No lack whose trust is in the Lord; for such he will provide.
There all of every name and race, in need of friendly aid, Find equal welcome to the board where no distinction"s made.
Thus treasures are laid up above, where endless life is given; They who are rich in works of love, may hope for rest in Heaven.
Preparation for Heaven.
Our every sin must be confessed, All guile be taken from the breast; A holy life must we maintain, If with the Saviour we would reign.
Be trimmed our lamps, our light appear, Proclaim we Jesus draweth near; That mercy"s closing hour is nigh, Will be the angel"s last loud cry.
Now are we drawing near the port, Decisions soon all made in court, The scene will close, the Lord will come,-- And who with him will have a home?
To self we must be crucified, Be purified, made white and tried, Without one spot, and guileless be, To stand before his Majesty.
Oh! be our sleeping powers awake; Eternal bliss is now at stake; One wrong unrighted, spot or stain, Will bind in sin"s destructive chain.
Haste then, from every error flee; Strive till you gain the victory.
Triumph in Jesus" name alone, And sit with him upon his throne.