I would not live alway, thus fettered by sin,
Temptation without, and corruption within:
E'en the rapture of pardon is mingled with fears,
And the cup of thanksgiving with penitent tears.

I would not live alway; no, welcome the tomb:
Since Jesus has lain there, I dread not its gloom;
There sweet be my rest, till He bid me arise
To hail Him in triumph descending the skies.

Who, who would live alway, away from his God,
Away from yon heaven, that blissful abode,

Where the rivers of pleasure flow o'er the bright plains,
And the noontide of glory eternally reigns;

Where the saints of all ages in harmony meet,
Their Saviour and brethren, transported, to greet;
While the anthems of rapture unceasingly roll,
And the smile of the Lord is the feast of the soul?

II.

I would not live alway-I ask not to stay,

For nought but to lengthen the term of the way;
Nay, fondly I've hoped, when my work-days were done,
Then, soon and undim'd, would go down my life's sun.

But if other my lot, and I'm destined to wait
Thro' suffering and weakness in useless estate,
Till I gain my release, gracious Lord, keep me still,
Unmurmuring, resigned to thy Fatherly will.

Yea, thus let it be, so that thereby I grow

More meet for His presence to whom I would go,
More patient, more loving, more quiet within,

Thoroughly washed in the Fountain that cleanseth from sin.

So the days of my tarrying on to their end,

Bringing forth what they may, all in praise I would spend:
Then, no cloud on my faith, when called for I'd leave,
Calm in prayer, "Lord Jesus, my spirit receive."

But inside the veil-How, how is it there?
Dare we ask for some sight, or some sound to declare,
What the blessed are doing-afar or anear?

Oh, but for a whisper, the darkness to cheer!

Yet, why aught of darkness? Light, light enough this,

The Paradise life,-it can be only bliss;

And whatever its kind, or where'er its realm lies,

The Saviour its glory, The Sun of its skies.

The hymn is not retained in our present hymnal, but three of his hymns still keep their place, one, a baptismal hymn, beginning:

207 Saviour, who Thy flock art feeding.

Another beginning:

486 Like Noah's weary dove.

And still a third which can never lose either popularity This is distinctly a Christian hymn. Its language is that of faith and hope and most buoyant cheer:

or power.

53 Shout the glad tidings, exultingly sing;
Jerusalem triumphs, Messiah is king.

Sion, the marvelous story be telling,

The Son of the Highest, how lowly His birth!
The brightest archangel in glory excelling,

He stoops to redeem thee, He reigns upon earth.
Shout the glad tidings, etc.

Tell how He cometh; from nation to nation

The heart-cheering news let the earth echo round:
How free to the faithful He offers salvation,
How His people with joy everlasting are crowned:
Shout the glad tidings, etc.

Mortals, your homage be gratefully bringing,
And sweet let the gladsome hosanna arise:

Ye angels, the full alleluia be singing;

One chorus resound through the earth and the skies:
Shout the glad tidings, etc.

And of His kingdom there shall be no end.

XI.

Sarah Flower Adams
Cecil Frances Alexander
Frances Ridley Havergal
Charlotte Elliott

Adelaide Anne Procter

Anne Steele

And Other "Chief Women, Not a Few"

He sendeth sun, He sendeth shower,
Alike they're needful for the flower;
And joys and tears alike are sent
To give the soul fit nourishment.
As comes to me or cloud or sun,
Father, Thy will, not mine, be done!

SARAH FLOWER ADAMS.

O lonely tomb in Moab's land!

O dark Beth-peor's hill!

Speak to these curious hearts of ours,
And teach them to be still.

God hath His mysteries of grace,
Ways that we cannot tell,

He hides them deep, like the secret sleep,

Of Him He loved so well.

CECIL FRANCES ALEXANDER.

Blessed assurance, Jesus is mine,

O what a foretaste of glory divine!
Heir of salvation, purchase of God,

Born of His spirit, washed in His blood:
This is my story, this is my song,
Praising my Saviour all the day long.

FRANCES J. VAN ALSTYNE.