Poems

/ SHALL SEE THEM AGAIN

"I shall see them again in the light of the morning, When the night has passed by with its tears and its mourning:

When the light of God's love is the sun ever shining

In the Land where the weary ones rest.

"I shall know them again, though ten thousand surround them;

I shall hear their dear voice 'midst the blessed ones around them;

And the love that was theirs on the earth shall detect them In the Land where the weary ones rest.

'"Twos their lives in the past helped to fill me with gladness;

And the future in heaven, the home without sadness, Where I see them today clad in bright robes of whiteness— In the Land where the weary ones rest.

"Would I wish for them back from their bright home in heaven?

No! in patience I'll wait till the veil shall be riven,

And the Saviour restores me the friends. He has given—

In the Land where the weary ones rest."

—Rev. E. Husband

MY AIN COUNTR1E

"/'in far frae my home, and I'm weary aftenwhiles for the lunged-for home-bringing, an' my Father's welcome smiles;

I'll ne'er be fu' content until my een do see

The gowden gates o'Heaven, an' my ain countrie.

The earth is flecked wi' flowers,—money-tinted, fresh an' gay,—

The birdies warble blithely, for my Father make them sac,

But these sichts an' these soun's will as naething be to me

When 1 hear the angels singing in my ain countrie.

"I've His glide word o' promise, that, some gladsome day, the King. To His ain royal palace His banished home will bring;

Wi' een an' wi' hearts running o'wer we shall see 'The King in His beauty,' an' our ain countrie. My sins hue been mony, an' my sorrows hue been man', But there they'll never vex me, nor be remembered mair;

His bluid hath made me while. His hands shall dry mine e'e, When He brings me hame at last to my ain countrie.

"Like a bairn to its mither, a wee birdie 10 its nest, I would fain be gauging noo unto my Saviour's breast;

For He gathers in His bosom witless, worthless lambs like me. Ami carries them Hmsel' to His ain countrie. He's faithful that hath promised—He'll surely come again— He'll keep His tryst wi' me, at what hour I dinna ken;

But He bids me still to wail, an' ready aye to be To gang at ony moment to my ain countrie."

—Mary Lee Demurest.