6. The old year | 7. Sabath in earth and in heaven
8. Man lost and redeemed | 9. Snow
10. Maggie MacDonald – aged 17 years

6. THE OLD YEAR – Pinedale – Jan 20, 1874

Old year farewell, now we must sever
The ties that bound us close together
From scenes of sorrow and of pain
These scenes will never come again…
From scenes of sickness and of woe
From scenes where bitter tears did flow
From scenes of joy and cheerful mirth
That make us bless our very birth …
From scenes of love that are quickly gone
And yet are like the setting sun
Though it is down and out of sight
It leaves its golden stream of light…
How young hearts beat when hand in hand
Beneath some willow tree they stand
Or in some quiet porch recline
Where morning-glories round it twine…
Or wander through some grassy glade
Where maple trees can cast their shade
Or pluck some flower from off a vine
When she has answered, “I’ll be thine”…
And when all seemed so full of love
As streams of light poured from above
With one arm round her lily neck
He softly kissed her rosy cheek…
And thought not, ere another moon
These rosy cheeks would fade so soon
That form so lovely, and so gay
Would be a lifeless lump of clay…
A parent’s hopes, a mother’s joy
A father’s pride, their first-born boy
Has left his parents’ hearts in pain
For life upon the foaming main…
A new-born babe, that cannot tell
Its mother’s form that loved it well
But like the flower, cut in bloom
It sweetly fills its little tomb…
Perhaps upon a father’s form
Some fell disease has fastened on
And weeping round his death-bed there
His wife and children gathered are…
And now Old Year, when thou art gone
These various scenes we’ll think upon
And pray for strength, that as we live
Each day a good record may give
That so at last when life had fled
And we are numbered with the dead
We may find our happy rest
And lay our hands on Jesus’ breast.

7. SABBATH IN EARTH AND IN HEAVEN – Killy Glen – 1874

How sweet O Lord Thy day of rest
From worldly labor free
When we can feed our hungry souls
And worship only Thee
O may each Sabbath morning bring
Our thoughts from earth to heaven
And think of Jesus and His love
For us His life was given
His life so pure and holy too
Without one spot or stain
O may I Lord return Thy love
I have received from Him
How many Sabbaths I have seen
Since first my life began
They are like sunny stepping-stones
Placed there by God’s own hand
Sweet Sabbath here, thou art the type
Of rest that is for me
In that bright land of joy and peace
Forever Christ, with Thee
And, O my Savior, may I love
Thy Sabbaths more and more
Until I leave this vale of tears
And reach bright Canaan’s shore
Then will I love Thee as I ought
When free from doubt and sin
And dwell forever with my Lord
My Prophet, Priest, and King

8. MAN LOST AND REDEEMED – Killy Glen – Nov 14, 1875

Poor sinful man; how frail is he
Composed of clay and earth
And yet the Lord did love him so
Yea even from his birth
Made in God’s image fair
In Eden’s bower to dwell
He had the choice of Life or Death
He disobeyed and fell
God drove him from his garden home
And ne’er within it more
Was he to live in happiness
As in the days before
An angel with a flaming sword
Did guard the garden gate
He mourned and wept when now he saw
The earth cursed for his sake
His soul that once was pure and fair
As from God’s hands it came
Was now sunk low in dark despair
With sorrow, sin, and shame
‘Twas then, O Lord, Thy wondrous love
Thou first displayed to man
Salvation through Thy own dear Son
O! what a glorious plan
And we, O Lord, as Adam’s sons
Partake of Adam’s sins
And as we died as Adam died
So now we live with Him
The promise God to Eve did make
That of her seed should be
A Savior, who should bring to man
Salvation full and free
He paid the debt we owed to God
A debt we could not pay
To bring us back to God and heaven
He opened up the Way
And now poor sinner stop and think
What Christ hath done for Thee
Thy stripes He bore, thy debt He paid
And now thou art set free
O guilty soul, despair no more
But come and trust His grace
While here on earth we live by faith
In heaven we’ll see his face
Our trials here will soon be o’er
How sweet to think of rest
In heaven above, we’ll ever love
And lean on Jesus’ breast

9. SNOW – February, 1875

How soft and white the snow doth lie
How lovely, pure and clean
On valleys low, and mountains high
On trees and meadows green
It comes to cover mother earth
That she may rest and sleep
The heat of summer and the dearth
Nigh worried her complete
That when the spring comes round again
Old earth may live once more
With many flowers strewed o’er the plain
And comforts for the poor
It comes to give the boys at school
Pleasure, and health, and strength
Or playing with school girls curls
It falls to the ground at length
It comes to make our roads more smooth
To see the flying teams
Some fat and sleek, some more uncouth
Some need both whip and reigns
To hear the merry sleigh-bells ring
Jingle, jingle, as they go
Or hear the happy voices sing
How they love the sparkling snow
It makes us think of years gone past
Of scenes that we have seen
Of forms once loved that now are dust
Long laid ‘neath the valley’s green
Beautiful snow, with thy mantle of white
Thou hast covered our bleak brown earth
Surely thou art a beautiful type
Of what Christ did by His death
For we were polluted and in distress
Not fit for our Father to love
When over us, Christ cast His righteousness
And prepared us for mansions above

10. MAGGIE MCDONALD- AGED 17 YEARS

Dearest Maggie, thou hast left us
Left us in the early bloom
Left us all in saddest sorrow
Weeping round thy early tomb
Lovely was thy form and features
Bright as any summer day
Voice was king, her smile was kinder
As she met you on the way
Step as light as any dew drop
Falling on the grassy lawn
Quick her fingers too, and nimble
With her needle or her pen
Her last days with us are ended
In the school-room or at home
We will listen for her coming
But she never more will come
O the house is sad and lonely
Without Maggie’s well-known form
She will ne’er more bid us welcome
Father, Mother, welcome home
But we know that she is better
Safely in her Savior’s arms
Free from sin, and every sorrow
Singing with blood-washed throng