The Glory Forever by Martha Snell Nicholson

[Deleted]

THE LORD DOTH GO BEFORE THEE

“The Lord doth go before thee,”
He safely leads His child,
Sometimes through pleasant meadows,
Sometimes where storms beat wild.

“The Lord doth go before thee,”
In this strange darkened land;
Where shadows gather thickly
He takes my groping hand.

“The Lord doth go before thee,”
Perhaps beside the bier
Where lies my heart's beloved—
My Lord is with me here.

“The Lord doth go before thee,”
I cling to Him and trust
Though pain is now my portion
And all my dreams are dust.

“The Lord doth go before thee,”
He knoweth all the way;
And those whom He is leading
Shall see the face some day

Of Him Who went before us
And was our tender Guide;
For He will be our Bridegroom
And we shall be His Bride.

[Deleted]

HOW BLACK IS SIN?

My friend, are you of those who say,
'O, I am not so bad,
My record is about as clean
As other men have had.

I never murdered, never stole
A man's purse nor his wife;
I try to get along without
Much bickering and strife;

And God will not condemn a man
Who did the best he could;
For surely He will be as kind
As other fathers would.”

O friend whose eyes are holden, blind,
If ever you would see
The blackness of the smallest sin,
Look back to Calvary,

And hear that dying voice, “My God,
Thou hast forsaken Me!”
What, God not kind? Not loving you?
Then why that day did He

Give His beloved Son to die
For you? Could He do more?
Would you do this for any man?
Was love like this before

Or since? The striken sun
Was darkened in the sky;
The very earth shook, quivering,
To see the Saviour die!

But you refuse Him! Some day you
Will stand before His throne.
But God will never damn your soul,
For you have damned your own!

[Deleted]

EITHER WAY I WIN

Two roads there are which I may take
To bring me home to God.
On one, this fleshy envelope
Must know the grave, the sod,

But since my flesh will be asleep
Why should I shrink or care?
A little pain, and suddenly
My spirit will be there

Beyond the blue! And if I take
The other road? Ah, bliss!
None but the Bride of Christ could know
A rapture such as this!

Two roads, each leads to victory
Since Christ saved me from sin.
Two roads, I know not which is mine,
But either way, I win!

[Deleted]

SON OF MAN

O Son of God, Thou Lord Most High,
How could I find Thee in the sky?
My eyes, through trackless miles of space,
Had strained in vain to glimpse Thy face;
My seeking hands could only grope
For Thee, my heart could only hope.

O Son of Man, Who trod earth's way —
This selfsame road I walk each day —
Who felt the burning heat of noon,
Or watched the slender crescent moon;
Who ate and drank and laughed and wept,
And wearied with a day's toil, slept;

How sweet it is for me to know
There is no path my feet can go,
But Thou hast been before me there,
And canst my every feeling share.
Lord, Thou hast grown so close, so dear,
Since Thou hast walked beside me here!

O Son of Man, of God, what grace
To show to us Thy lovely face!

[Deleted]

“They looked unto him, and were lightened: and their faces were not ashamed” (Psalms 34:5).

THEY LOOKED UNTO HIM AND WERE LIGHTENED

So many times have I looked up to Him
In pleading faith because my path was dim
And clouds and darkness compassed me about.
Then suddenly, as though the sun came out,
The way lay clear and plain before my feet!
And often through hard years I learned how sweet,
When burdened with the weight of pain and grief,
To look to Him,—and oh, the blest relief
To feel Him slip His hands beneath the load
To lighten it Our burden-bearing God!

Some wondrous day my eyes shall look on Him
Beside whose glory myriad suns are dim;
And His reflected radiance shall, by grace,
Lighten forever even my poor face!

[Deleted]

MY FATHER

Sometimes in spite of mounting years
I feel too small and weak,
Too ignorant to cope with life,
And so at last I seek

My Father's tender outstretched arms,
And there upon His breast
I leave my problems all to Him,
And He works, while I rest.

[Deleted]

THINK OF THE WONDER

Think of the wonder!
When Christ would come to earth to dwell
There was no body for Him till
The Holy Spirit came upon
A maiden to provide for Him
A human body.
Think of the wonder!

Think of the wonder!
When Christ our Lord would fain go home,
His mission finished, He must first
Provide a body for that One,
The Holy Spirit, so He formed
The Church, His Body.
Think of the wonder!

[Deleted]

VERSE FOR A CHILD

By Howard Wren Nicholson

HOW good it is in June to see
A tree, a bird, and a yellow bee.
A tree to lift its branches high,
The bird to toss its song to the sky,
And murmuring busily, the bee
To gather honey for you and me!

[Deleted]

HERITAGE FROM THE LORD

You who are wearied and hurried,
One eye on a fast racing clock;
Washing and cleaning and baking,
Darning a ragged sock;

Mopping the kitchen, then seeing
It tracked up by small sturdy feet;
Feeding a hungry family
In spite of the high cost of meat;

Planning a new meal when scarcely
The dishes have been put away;
When evening finds only half finished
The tasks you had planned for the day.

Thank God that your hands can be busy,
Not idle and useless and white.
Thank God that the hours race so swiftly
From earliest morning till night.

Thank God for small lives to be molded,
Small hearts to be led to the Lord,
Small hands and small feet to be guided,
Small minds to be stored with His Word.

Thank God for your husband and children,
Sharing your bread and your wine;
That your heart and your home are both crowded,
Not silent and empty, like mine.

[Deleted]

ADVICE TO A YOUNG MAN

By Howard Wren Nicholson

Do you know that a man's treatment of women goes a long way to measure the man? No man can ever pass the test for a gentleman without having his conduct toward women scrutinized very closely.

If he is gentle and courteous in his actions, delicate in his speech, almost worshipful in his manner, providing they are worthy of worship, you may know he is a long way on the road to being a real man, a true knight, a Christian gentleman, God's nobleman.

How many things there are that enter into the make-up of a big man! So many things he cannot do, out of respect for his high ideal of manhood; so many things he must do, out of devotion to duty and to those high ideals; so many things he must be, in his own secret heart; so much longing after the purest and best in life, so much daily striving after God's approval of his actions; so much soul-building to do if he would be about his Father's business; such a big lot of looking to God for help in putting one's baser self under foot while striving to keep his finer instincts and qualities to the front of the battle line; so much prayer, so much putting on the whole armor of God.

To be his best a man needs the purifying, sanctifying influence of godly women to help him. It has been so down through the ages. Somehow women have a closer hold on God than men have, a finer understanding, richer soul qualities, keener spiritual insight, and the ability to call out the best in man and spur him to the attainment of better things, and to a closer walk with God.

A man's ability to understand and recognize these facts, and to give woman her true place in his life and in the world at large, marks him as a candidate for Christian knighthood. Instinctively he will treat her with deference; protect her with his strength; place her first in his life; regard her with honor in all cases; make her the object of his deepest admiration, love and adoration in one case.

And then henceforth his life must be a different life, lived always with these things in consideration, deepened, enriched, glorified by the blessed influence of womanhood. If one would be a true man let him think on these things. And let him thank God that He saw fit to make for man a helpmate.

[Deleted]

THE BETTER GIFT

He clutched the red-tipped matches in his tiny hand,
Nor would he give them up. But mothers understand
A gentle way to deal with stubborn little boys.
And so, with no harsh arguments, no fuss, no noise,
I held an apple out. He let the matches fall,
And reached out for the better gift. And that was all.

And so our blessed Lord deals with His children here.
Lest we should hold the cities of this world too dear
And thus become besmirched with evil, scorched with fire,
He gently bids our wondering eyes to look up higher,
And we, beholding there the New Jerusalem,
Alight with golden glory, brilliant as a gem,
Can never love again the dull and dingy earth,
Nor in its tinsel treasures find the slightest worth.

Keep Thou the vision, precious Lord, before our eyes,
As we pursue our pilgrim way to Paradise!

[Deleted]

TO LIN TREY CHEN

Chinese “foster daughter” of Mr. and Mrs. William Coburn

A letter to a little girl
In distant lands, who's named Spring Pearl;
A birthday letter from my heart,
Although we live so far apart.

May God be with you on this day,
And walk beside you all your way;
And every moment that you live
May our dear Saviour richly give

You treasures from His boundless store
Until your cup is running o'er:
His peace, His love, His joy, His strength,
To meet the need of each day's length,

His fellowship, His tender care,
And all things beautiful and fair.
And soon the blessed day will come
When Christ our Lord will call us home

Unto Himself beyond the blue!
Till then, dear child, believe it true
That we are not so far apart
Because you live within my heart,

And you are now my little girl,
My very own, my sweet Spring Pearl!

[Deleted]

HOLY GROUND

By Howard Wren Nicholson

I was wakened by a cry,
I knew not what. In haste I rose
And pulled the curtain back,
And peered between.
Thin pencils of light
Eluded the close-drawn shades
Of my neighbors' windows.

I stood a moment . . .
Hark! Again
Shrill screams of pain
Stabbed the dark
Like a dagger.

Not quite awake,
I set my mind
To grapple with this mystery —
How came it thus
That in this home
Where dwelt my youthful neighbor
And his sweetheart-wife,
Where gentleness and love
Had reigned supreme,
Such sounds as this
Should usher in the morn?

And then I knew . . .
I felt as guilty as a thief,
And sacrilegious, too, as though
I watched God frame the sky,
And hang His lanterns there.
I dressed in haste,
And hurried out
And fled these cries
It seemed I should not hear.

Scorning the paths of men,
I turned to the open fields
Where oft before
I'd trysted with the dawn.
It seemed as if my feet
But scarcely touched the earth.

Walking thus,
I came upon a hill,
Where, as I'd often done,
I sat awhile,
And watched the shadows steal away.
For many minutes thus I sat,
Until the day was fully come.

At length I saw,
From out the shelter of the trees
That fringed the field,
A man step forth —
Or was he just a boy?
He nearer came,
And passed me by beyond a bush.
I knew him now —
My youthful, joyous neighbor.

(I loved him as a son).

He saw me not,
And as I looked
He broke into a run;
He raced, He leaped,
He gamboled like a lamb.
I scarce believed my eyes,
When down upon the grass
He threw himself,
And rolled
In very ecstasy of joy!

Then up,
And leaping to the hill top now,
Sent forth such shouts of exaltation
To the skies
I feared the town would hear.

Just then the sunrise
Over yonder wood
Kissed all the fields aglow.
My youthful friend
Reached forth his arms
With welcoming gesture.
His boyish laugh
Made all the woodland ring!

But scarcely had the echoes died
When tears leaped in a torrent forth,
His straight young shoulders
Bowed and shaken with a storm of sobs . . .

I turned my face away,—
Again I knew
I'd chanced on holy ground.

[Deleted]

TO AN UNBORN CHILD

You dwelt here softly in this home of mine,
Although I have not seen your little face.
My soul is hushed,—it seems to me almost
As great a miracle as that of grace.

It is so fitting, right, that in this room
That was but lately visited by death,
That God should give this tender recompense,
Should take one home, then give another breath!

Even before I see you I have poured
My love upon you, dear. It almost seems
That you are the embodiment at last
Of my own long-lost hopes and broken dreams.

O may the spirit of this quiet home
Mold somehow that small spirit which is you!
May faith and love and prayer gird you about
As you fare forth in this strange world and new!

[Deleted]

TENDER PICTURE

Little children played around Him,
Little children loved Him well;
For a child has heavenly wisdom,
And a child can always tell

Who it is that loves him truly.
So they clung to Him that day;
His disciples would forbid them,
But they would not go away.

So they clustered all about Him,
Like the bees about a flower;
And it was a tender picture
And it was a precious hour.

And He said, as He looked downward
At the small ones on His knees,
“Know you not that heaven's kingdom
Is made up of such as these?”

[Deleted]

FOR A LITTLE GIRL

By Howard Wren Nicholson

Just a little daisy
Peeping from the grass,
Just a little daisy,
Smiling as I pass.

Winsome little daisy with
A daisy's dainty grace,
Smiling little daisy with
A daisy's happy face.

How I love to see you
Peeping from the grass,
How I love to greet you,
Smiling as I pass!

[Deleted]

THE INARTICULATE

By Howard Wren Nicholson

I can hear such tiny voices
Hidden in the grass,
I can hear such bells of laughter
Tinkle as I pass.

What a happy world we walk on,
Touch, but do not know!
What a wealth of joy and music
Wasted as we go!

Hear the song of growing grasses,
Peals of laughter, shouts of glee . . .
What a living world we trample,
Crush, but do not see!

[Deleted]

TO A MOTHER-IN-WAITING

Only a little while for her
To be of your own self a part,
This precious burden that you bear,
The core and center of your heart.

Only a little while that she
Will be as close as she is now,
Compassed with love, safe sheltered from
All stormy winds of life that blow.

Only a very little while.
Give it to God and dedicate
Each lingering holy hour to Him,
And He will bless you as you wait.

[Deleted]

FIRST DOLL

I watched you all day long,
Crooning your little song.
You felt, nor understood,
Your latent motherhood.

Entirely unaware
The earth was wide and fair.
It held for you no charms—
Your world was in your arms.

Though you could capture moons
To use as toy balloons,
The little ones that stray
From out the Milky Way,

Though all the stars were scooped
Into one silver heap,
And all the rainbows looped
In strands for you to keep,

I know you'd trade them all
For that old ragged doll,
Nor give to them one part
Of your small loyal heart!

Child, may you be some day,
In just that earnest way,
A woman fine and good,
Absorbed in motherhood!

[Murph]

Laughed when I read this. We have cicadas this spring and they are anything but quiet...

THE INARTICULATE

By Howard Wren Nicholson

I can hear such tiny voices
Hidden in the grass,
I can hear such bells of laughter
Tinkle as I pass.

What a happy world we walk on,
Touch, but do not know!
What a wealth of joy and music
Wasted as we go!

Hear the song of growing grasses,
Peals of laughter, shouts of glee . . .
What a living world we trample,
Crush, but do not see!