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RECIOUS, precious to Jehovah is His children's holy sleep;

He is with them in the passing through the waters cold and deep : Everlasting love enfolds them softly, sweetly to His breast,

Everlasting love receives them to His glory and His rest."

Such the verses, Frances Ridley, that thy pen had lately written,

And already it hath fallen from the hand that death hath smitten ; For the endless Love enfolds thee, softly, sweetly, to His breast :

Everlasting Love receives thee to His glory and His rest.

Scarcely six short hours have passèd, since I read with heartfelt pleasure

Lines in memory of a loved one writ in thy poetic measure;
Garlanded about with flowers, tribute from a foreign land,

And like thine in memory painted by a not less loyal hand.
And in love those lines were written, and in love those flowers were painted,

To embalm the name of “ Alice" and her bright career untainted,
Who by Christian life distinguished better far than Royal blood,

Early reached the shore of Canaan through the Jordan's “cold deep" flood.

Frances, thine was not the sceptre, nor the state and purple regal:

'Twas not thine above thy fellows to mount up on wings of eagle, And from altitude majestic, throned upon a lofty seat,

Contemplate the humble mortals who were stationed at thy feet;

But thou could'st with loftier purpose fix thy gaze on the blue sky,

Like the lark that with light pinion wings its airy path on high-
Richly trilling music thrilling upward, Heavenward, Christward ever,

Nothing finding here sufficient from thy Lord thyself to sever.

Loyalest of loyal subjects, nothing was enough to bring

To the constant daily service of thy Saviour and The King,
Save the ablest, worthiest efforts of thy life, and lip, and lung,

Hand and foot and mind and memory, intellect and will and tongue.

Thou didst tell the Royal BOUNTY, and so peal the Morning Bells

That they might on little spirits exercise their hallowed spells ;
And arrange the Little Pillows when the sun was in the west,

That the hearts of little sleepers might have whereupon to rest.


How to heed THE KING'S COMMANDMENTS was thy constant contemplation,
Holding as thy creed and dogma (disregarding things abstruse)

Simply to be KEPT in all things always, FOR THE MASTER'S USE.

And REALITY imprinted on thy life as on thy rhymes,

Will encourage the despondent in their melancholy times;
For if thou who wast so buoyant, had such need His grace to seek,

WHAT SHALL WE, then, DO WITHOUT HIM-we so feeble, frail and weak ?


For concealed THE SURFACE UNDER was the secret of thy zeal

Life with Christ in God that hidden served to quicken each appeal ; That by leaflet, book, and music and by sacred song outpoured,

Thou might'st made a Life Mosaic to the honour of thy Lord.

But thine earthly harp is silenced, and thine earthly notes are ended,

With the harps of the redeemed ones now to be for ever blended ; Richly trilling music thrilling, thou hast taken thy latest flight

And in Heaven's exceeding glory hast attained thy ZENITH height.

And though set thy sun at noonday, and thy form in midnight gloom

Hidden is now from mortal vision in the silence of the tomb, Like to STARLIGHT THROUGH THE SHADOWS will thy written works be found

Clear and brilliant in proportion to the darkness all around.

And in following thine example, some shall yet arise and sing,

For the selfsame worthy purpose of the honour of their King ; And, although, maybe, less gifted, shall His praises still prolong,

To the Master's service minist’ring in THE MINISTRY OF Song.

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M HOU art lost to our sight, but we will not lament thee:

Thy work was completed ere hushed was thy voice ; And thyself hast returned to thy Master who sent thee

To rest in His love and for ever rejoice.

Thou wert an ambassador active and loyal,

Thine errand of mercy was worthily run;
Though the mission assigned thee was princely and royal

'Twas fully accomplished and faithfully done.

No negligence blotted thy message or blurred it,

No cowardice rendered thee false to thy trust :
And the sound shall survive in the ears that have heard it

Long after the speaker has mouldered to dust.

Thy words were all weighty, thy lips heavy-laden,

All classes were blessed by the fruits of thy toil;
And the son and the sire and the matron and maiden,

The young and the aged divided the spoil.
The godly and godless, the people and pastor,

Their duty as Christians thou labouredst to teach ;
And the buyer and the seller and the servant and master,

The tones of thine earnestness failed not to reach.


No tongue than thine own was more skilful in pleading

For missions abroad o'er the flood and the foam ; But none more emphatic its hearers in leading

To fireside religion—" Religion at Home."

In the wards of the hospital destined to languish

Were thousands of sufferers requiring our aid,
When the plan thou proposed'st to lessen their anguish

Was plainly and promptly and prudently made.

And the method thus wisely and kindly suggested

Immediately proved a decided success;
And wherever mankind by disease is molested

Existeth a reason thy judgment to bless.

Thy words and thy life and thy labours are ended,

And many have reason to mourn for thee now, But few whose well-being thy care has befriended

More than those who must live by the sweat of their brow.

[Thou regarded'st the Sabbath and marriage as flowers

That remain with us yet our sad world to adorn, The sole vestiges left from lost Eden's fair bowers,

And blossoming still midst the thistle and thorn

The Sabbath for rest and for solemn communion

A day to be guarded like jewel high-priced : For sacredness second in life, love's sweet union

To nothing on earth, save the union with Christ.]

Thou hast gone to thy rest, and thy seat is vacated,

The place that has known thee shall know thee no more; But beyond all earth's labours thou now art located,

Not needing to labour but only adore.

Had the choice been with us we'd have found thee a mitre,

The fisherman's ring and prelatical gown,
But thy Master obtained thee a robe that was whiter,

And placed on thy head an unchangeable crown.

And therefore we cannot and dare not regret thee,

Or wish to behold thee again upon earth; But shall not in consequence ever forget thee,

Or lightly esteem or thy words or thy worth.

But will strive like thyself, spite of sneering or taunting,

To be what thou urged'st us early and late; That if “ weighed in the balance " we be not “ found wanting,"

And tested as Christians prove Christians “short-weight."


Nor shall we forget thy last dying injunction,

“No word of eulogium to speak of the dead; That thy gifts were conferred and but blest in conjunction

With grace from on high from thy spiritual Head :

And if need there appear with the newly-departed

That words from the pulpit the people should reach, Not a thought should be spoken or comment be started

Save the truths that in life thou hadst laboured to teach."

Yet surely we shall not thy wish be transgressing

If this commendation we briefly record,
That in death as in life thou wert firm in confessing

Thyself to be nothing, but ALL THings thy Lord.

'Twas grace, sovereign grace, that thy ransom effected,

'Twas grace that impelled thee to battle with sin; 'Twas by grace, and grace only, that thou wast elected

To triumph o'er Satan and victory to win.

And hadst thou e'en been the most holy of mortals

Thou then couldst but merit a place in “ the dust”; But yet thou hast entered high Heaven's pearly portals

By making not self, but Christ Jesus thy trust.

And why should we seek to extol or commend thee,

Our words would be feeble and vain at the best; 'Tis better in silence that back we should send thee

And leave thine Employer to manage the rest.

For 'twas He, not His creatures, by whom it was spoken

“Well done, faithful servant, come, take thy reward ; The commands and the charge that I gave are unbroken,

Now enter for ever the joy of thy Lord."

But oh! we would pray that thy mantle depending

On him who in future shall stand in thy place May symbolize faintly the Spirit's descending,

And filling him also with Heavenly grace;

That he, like thyself, may deliver his message

To all as they need it who gather around, Of life unto life a sweet savour and presage

That they in each virtue may grow and abound.



Blessed is the nation whose God is the Lord ; and the people whom He hath chosen for His own inheritance."

PSALM xxxiii. 12. Happy is that people, that is in such a case ; yea, happy is that people, whose God is the Lord.”—Psalm cxliv. 15.


EJOICE! Great Britain, praise thy God, and shout aloud for joy;

Let all thy people gratefully their noblest notes employ;
Praise Him for all His blessings in the ages that are past :

Praise Him for all in store for thee as long as time shall last.

9 Praise Him, unshackled Britons ! for your free and happy land, ONE And praise Him for its old white cliffs, its shingle and its sand;

And praise Him that in foreign climes, whene'er thy people roam,

Their hearts are ever left behind in their dear old island home.

Then set thy bells a-ringing;

And set thy children singing
To Him glad lays of hearty praise
Who crowns with goodness all their days :

O'er hill and plain loud swell the strain,
And echoes waft it on again

To praise Great Britain's God!

And praise Him for thy lofty hills, and for thy lowly vales,

And praise Him for thy sunny meads and for thy flowery dales ;
And praise Him for thy moss and ferns, and all thy forest trees,

And praise Him for their song when swept by every passing breeze.

And praise Him that beneath the soil laid up in ample store,

For generations yet to come are coal and mineral ore,
While in the glorious light of day glow fields of golden grain,

Thy pastures yielding flocks and herds, and fish thy teeming main.

Then set thy bells a-ringing ;

And set thy children singing
To Him glad lays of hearty praise
Who crowns with goodness all thy days:

O'er hill and plain loud swell the strain,
And echoes waft it back again

To praise Great Britain's God!

Praise Him for bursting beauties in the ever-welcome spring

And joyous news from warmer lands the sweet-voiced warblers bring;
For the violets' incense-homage to the new-born baby year,

And the exquisite pale primrose 'midst the old leaves brown and sere.

For summer's scorching san give thanks, and for refreshing showers,

For God's breath breathed upon the world from petals of the flowers ;
For the matchless splendour they supply in colour, size, and form,

For the weary hearts they brighten, and the suffering homes adorn.

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