Eliza Paul Gurney

“ That fades, and leaves no deeper trace than childhood’s reckless tear;
But there are woes which scathe the heart till all its bloom is o’er,
A deadly blight we feel but once, that once for evermore.
Oh, then, ’tis sweet on fancy’s wing to cleave that bright domain!
The loved and the redeemed are there, why lure me back again?
The cadences of gladness to your hearts may yet be dear;
They have no melody for mine, all, all is desert here.
The sunshine still is bright to you, the moonlight and the flowers ”

“ CONSOLATION IN BEREAVEMENT.
’Tis not when we look on the dreamless dead,
And feel that the spirit forever has fled;
’Tis not when we’re called to the voiceless tomb
By the loved who were culled in their brightest bloom;
’Tis not when the grave’s last rite is o’er,
And we know they are gone to return no more;
But, oh! ’tis when Time with oblivious wing
A balm to all other hearts may bring;
When the dark, dark hours of grief are o’er,
And we join the world we can love no more,—
That world whose grief for the absent one
Passed like a cloud from an April sun ”

“ And can I love the sunshine, when it smiles upon the tomb?
When on one little hallowed spot its joyous beams are thrown,
That sacred turf—the all of earth—I now may call my own.
For there my joys are sepulchred, my hopes are buried there;
Yet with that holy earth are linked high thoughts that mock despair;
Unfaltering faith, that whispers of a purer world than this,
Where spirits that are parted here may “mingle into bliss;”
“Deep trust” that all our sinless hopes, which death forbids to bloom,
Shall ripen ’neath the cloudless sky that dawns beyond the tomb ”

“ If the joys of the world had a balm to impart,
That would act as a charm to the woes of the heart.
Yes, there is such a balm, but it comes from above,
It is wafted to earth on the pinions of love;
’Tis the spirit of piety, spotless and pure,
That teaches us calmly life’s ills to endure;
When it reigns in the heart, every error’s forgiven,
It resigns us to earth, and prepares us for Heaven. ”

“ Sure, man ne’er died an infidel.
Stretched on the agonizing couch of pain,
All human aid inefficacious, vain,
Where shall his tortured spirit rest? Ah, where?
The past, all gloom! the future, all despair!
’Tis then, O Lord, the skeptic turns to Thee,
Then the proud scoffer humbly bends the knee;
Feels in this darksome hour there’s much to do—
Earth fading fast, Heaven’s portals far from view.
Oh, what a hopeless wretch this man must be!
His very soul weeps tears of agony.
Dying he owns there is a God above,
A God of Justice, tho’ a Prince of Love. ”

“ What’s left thee now, poor orphan heart, that entered life so gay,
And fondly dreamed ’twould all have proved a bright and cloudless way?
Where are the joys that wreathed thee round in childhood’s reckless hours?
’Twas thine to watch them droop and fall, like pale, decaying flowers.
Where is thy home of love? Ah! well, that thought may cloud thy brow—
The dear loved home that sheltered thee is claimed by strangers now;
And does that echoing hall repeat no well-remembered tone?
The stranger’s voice, the stranger’s step have there familiar grown. ”

“ The covenant of His peace would ne’er depart?
Has He not fully satisfied thy soul
With the pure river of His joy and love,
Subdued each murmuring thought to his control,
And stayed thy mind on changeless things above?
When He, thou callest “Abba, Father,” placed
The earnest of adoption in thine heart,
Thou wast engraven, ne’er to be effaced,* * John 10:28.
Upon His holy hands, and His thou art.
Then doubt no more, for the omniscient God,
All whose mysterious ways are just and true,
In life will comfort with his staff and rod,
Be near in death, and guide thee safely through. ”

“ That we are destined ne’er to know again.
And what succeeds this era joyous, bright?
Is it a cloudless eve or starless night?
To those who’re busied in life’s brilliant dawn
With gathering flowers that bloom when spring is gone,
And, ere their morning sun begins to wane,
Add many a link to fond affection’s chain,
To Heaven’s supreme behest have meekly bowed—
’Twill prove indeed an eve without a cloud.
What though the brilliancy and sheen of day
With youthful hours have faded all away;
What though the fresh and roseate bloom of spring
A fragrance in our path no more shall fling ”

“ Time, as it fleets, dooms a joy to decay,
From the chaplet of hope steals a blossom away,
Throws a cloud o’er the lustre of life’s fairy scene,
And leaves but a thorn where the rosebud had been.
It sullies a link in affection’s young chain,
That, once slightly tarnished, ne’er sparkles again,
Spoils the sheaves that the heart in its summer would bind,
To guard ’gainst a bleak, leafless autumn of mind. ”

“ For oh! our covenant Lord, who ne’er his sacred promise breaks,
Has sweetly said, when all the world, the changing world, forsakes,
He will be all the world to us; then freely may the heart
Resign the fondly coffered bliss that clogs the immortal part,
(In holy trust ’twill all be ours when earth has passed away,)
And calmly wait the unclouded dawn of an eternal day,
Conscious while God is near, earth’s best and purest joy is given,
For ’tis His holy presence makes the perfect bliss of Heaven.
1829. E. P. K.
SHEPHERD OF ISRAEL.
Shepherd of Israel! ”

“ A mother’s love, assuredly, is sanctioned thus by Heaven.
But soon the ruthless spoiler comes, and all its trust is vain:
The eye that beamed so kindly once, will ne’er unclose again;
The voice of love that still could soothe when all its hopes were o’er,
Alas! those sweetly sacred tones are hushed forever-more;
The smile that lingered round its path when other lights had fled,
Oh! can it be that blessed smile is buried with the dead?
Then what is left the orphan heart thus mournfully bereft? ”

“ Oh, how my heart o’er this dark thought has bled!
How I have longed for wings to follow thee!
In visions of the night
With angel smile thou beckon’st me away,
Pointing to worlds where hope is free from blight;
And then a cloud comes o’er that brow of light,
Seeming to chide me for my long delay.
1829. E. P. K.
LIFE’S STAGES.
To the heart of trusting childhood life is all a gilded way,
Wherein a beam of sunny bliss forever seems to play;
It roams about delightedly through pleasure’s roseate bower,
And gaily makes a playmate, too, of every bird and flower ”

“ Peace dwells in thy bosom, a guileless abode;
Thou hast seen the bright side of existence alone,
And believ’st every spirit as pure as thine own.
May’st thou never awake from these rapturous dreams,
To find that the world is not fair as it seems,
To feel that the few thou hast loved have deceived,
Have forsaken the heart that confided, believed,
And left it as leafless, as bloomless, and waste
As the rose-tree that’s stript by the merciless blast. ”

“ But ah! poor struggling heart!
An eye is over thee, a Father’s eye,
Of tender love and pity. There is One
Whose voice is mightier than the noise
Of many waters, who sitteth on the flood
And reigneth King forever.
He sees thee breast the wave, upheld alone
By childlike trust and confidence in Him,
And through the storm is heard His gentle tone,
“Daughter, be comforted,—thy faith hath saved thee.”
12th mo., 1850. E. P. G.
The Lord’s portion is his people, Jacob is the lot of his inheritance. ”

“ Nature has burst from her wintry tomb,
Wreathed with the glory of brightening bloom;
Fetters of frost-work are gently unbound,
Blossoms and flowers are clustering round.
Bosoms that know not the blighting of care,
Sunshine and gladness may smilingly wear;
But for the broken and desolate heart
Springtime, alas! has no balm to impart.
Tones that are hushed it awakens no more;
“Friends that are gone” it can never restore;
Yet e’en to the mourner one hope it may bring,
’Tis the type of Eternity’s glorious spring.
1829. E. P. K.
OH, FOR A HOME OF REST! ”

“ No weapon shall prosper that’s formed against thee,
For the truth thou hast loved, shield and buckler shall be.
This the heritage is of the child of the Lord,
Of him who confides in his covenant word,
And freely forsakes, when his Saviour commands,
His brethren, and sisters, and children, and lands.
Though the ocean may roar, and earth shake with the swell,
His home is in Jesus, and all will be well;
Though the mountains depart, and the hills may remove,
He quietly rests ’neath the wing of His love. ”

“ And bliss without end in a holier sphere.
So, Christian, God speed thee, and should the storm lower,
Cast firmly thine anchor, and trust in His power.
His voice than the billows is mightier far,
And His mercy is o’er thee a safe guiding star.
But oh! when the clouds have all vanished away,
And life smiles around thee, a bright summer’s day,
When the breeze wafts thee onward, and no rocks appear,
Then, Christian, thine hour of peril is near;
The world may frown on thee, but oh! should it smile,
Come apart to the desert, and rest thee awhile.
1837. E. P. K.
TO A FRIEND.
Ah! ”

“ O’er man and his woes has cast.
’Tis true, in the silent night you call,
And they answer you not again—
For the spirits of bliss are voiceless all;
Sound only was made for pain.
That their land is bright and they weep no more,
I have warbled from hill to hill,
But my plaintive strains should have told before,
They love, oh! they love you still. ”

“ She spreadeth abroad her wings,
Then soars aloft to a purer air
Above terrestrial things.
Thus, when the heart with the cares of time
Is burdened and oppressed,
’Tis only the parent hand of love
That is stirring up the nest. ”

“ As though loath the bright scene of enchantment to leave,
While its drapery of gold, hurried carelessly on,
Fades away, tint by tint, till at last all are gone,
I feel ’tis an emblem of life’s little hour,
(Thus perish the hues of hope’s loveliest flower) ,
And I sigh for repose on that heavenly shore
Where the day is eternal, and change is no more. ”

“ And guards “his fold” from childhood to the grave.
Confess, proud man, all his known ways are just,
And what thou canst not fathom “learn to trust.”
1827. E. P. K.
IN A SEASON OF BEREAVEMENT.
Bright summer comes, all bloom and flowers,
To garland o’er her faded bowers;
There’s balm and sunshine on her wing,
But where’s the friend she used to bring?
One heart is sad ’mid all the glee,
And only asks, “Oh, where is he?”
He comes not now, he comes not now,
To chase the gloom from off my brow,
He comes not with his wonted smile
The weary moments to beguile. ”

“ Beats strong against thee, yet thou strugglest on,
Breasting the mighty billows, though no kind, well-known voice,
When the great mountain wave threatens to o’erwhelm,
Whispers the soul-reviving words, “Be of good cheer,
The port is nearing fast!” ”

“ Or how, when countless worlds are all in bloom,
O’er every bud is breathed its own perfume.
Yes, solve me this, and I’ll believe with thee,
’Twas meant that man should doubt all mystery.
Presumptuous worm! enough to know is given—
’Tis fearful meddling with the things of Heaven ”

“ Time, as it Fleets, Dooms a Joy To Decay, 16 On Leaving Pine Cottage, 17 The Morn and Eve of Life, 19 The Evening Star, 21 Recognition in Heaven, 22 Written in L. J.’s Album, 23 The Alpine Horn, 25 The Gathering Round the Oak Tree, 27 J. H. on the Death of his Wife, 29 Thou Great First Cause, 31 In a Season of Bereavement, 33 On a Packet of Letters, 36 Reply of the Messenger Bird, 38 Heaven and Earth, 40 Hush, Hush! ”