Brethren, Go! A Valediction.

Brethren, go! the day is bright'ning
    As the sultry noon steals on,
And the fields, already whit'ning,
    Tell of labor to be done.

There are toilsome days before you,
    Burdens that you may not shun,
Clouds will gather darkly o'er you,
    Reeds will fail you one by one.

Yet go forth to strong endeavor,
    'Neath the shadow of the cross;
He who calls will leave you never, -
    Never let you suffer loss!

Go; the voices of the dying
    Float on every passing breeze;
Tones of wild, imploring crying
    Come from lands beyond the seas!

Go where pain and sorrow languish,
    Go where Sin works strife and woe,
Cleanse Earth's stain, and heal her anguish,
    Jesus calls you - brethren, go!

Pamela S. Vining (J. C. Yule)

Pamela S. Vining, also known by her pseudonym J. C. Yule, was an English poet whose work was recognized in the 19th century. Despite her significant contribution to English poetry, detailed information about her life, including her birth and death dates, remains elusive. She remains a noteworthy figure in the canon of English literature for her emotive and thought-provoking poetry.

Pamela S. Vining (J. C. Yule)

Weary.

Pamela S. Vining (J. C. Yule), Simple Poetry

To Our Parents

Pamela S. Vining (J. C. Yule), Simple Poetry

Our Field Is The World.

Pamela S. Vining (J. C. Yule), Simple Poetry

At The Grave Of A Young Mother

Pamela S. Vining (J. C. Yule), Simple Poetry

English

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Strike The Chords Softly

Strike the chords softly with tremulous fingers,
    While, on the threshold of happiest years,
For a brief moment fond memory lingers,
    Ere we go forth to life's conflicts and fears!

Strike the chords softly! - yet no, as we tarry,
    Swiftly the morning is gliding away;
Weary ones droop 'neath the burdens they carry,
    Toiling ones faint in the heat of the day.

Let us not linger! - Earth's millions are crying
    "Come to us, aid us, we grope in the night!
Come to us, aid us, we're perishing, dying -
    Give us, oh, give us, the heavenly Light!"

Let us not linger! - our brethren are calling, -
    "Aid us, the harvest increases each day; -
Some have grown weary, alas, of their toiling! -
    Others have passed from their labors away."

Pamela S. Vining (J. C. Yule)

Onward

Onward, still on! - though the pathway be dreary, -
    Though few be the fountains that gladden the way, -
Though the tired spirit grow feeble and weary,
    And droop in the heat of the toil-burdened day;
Green in the distance the hills of thy Canaan
    Lift their bright heads in a tenderer light,
Where the full boughs with rich fruits overladen
    Spread their luxurious treasures in sight.

Onward, still onward! - around us are falling
    Lengthening shadows as daylight departs;
Up from the past mournful voices are calling,
    Often we pause with irresolute hearts.
Wherefore look backward? - the flower thou didst gather
    Wounded thy hand with the thorn it concealed, -
Onward, and stay not! - the voice of thy Father
    Calls thee to glory and bliss u...

Pamela S. Vining (J. C. Yule)

To My Missionary Friends, Mr. And Mrs. I.G. Bliss.

Why, dear friends, oh! tell us wherefore
You're so anxious to be gone;
Is the country late adopted
Dearer to you than your own?

Have you found a father, mother,
In that distant clime to love,
Or a sister, friend, or brother,
Better than the long-tried prove?

"Oh, no! believe us, no such motives
Prompt us to tempt old ocean's wave;
We go among the poor benighted,
Perhaps to find an early grave.

"Ah! you know not half our anguish -
Only those who feel can tell -
When we think of the sad parting,
And that solemn word - farewell.

"But while lingering, souls are dying,
Souls that Jesus came to save;
And of such a priceless value,
That for them his life he gave.

"Trials great no doubt await us
In that dis...

Mary Ann H. T. Bigelow

Now.

"Now is the accepted time."


                    Now, sinner, now!
Not in the future, when thy longed-for measure
Thou hast attained, of fame, or power, or pleasure,
When thy full coffers swell with hoarded treasure,
                    Not then, but now.
God's time may not be thine. When thou art willing,
His Spirit may have taken flight forever,
No more thy soul with keen conviction filling,
Softening thy spirit to repentance never, -
                    Now, sinner, now!

                    Now, Christian, now!
Look round, and see what souls are daily dying;
List! - everywhere the voice of human crying
Smiteth the ear; - the moan, the plaint, the sighing,
                    Come even now.
Rise! gird thyself; - go forth where sorrow ...

Pamela S. Vining (J. C. Yule)

Be In Earnest

Be in earnest, Christian toilers,
    Life is not the summer, dream
Of the careless, child that gathers
    Daisies in the noontide beam!
It hath conflict, it hath danger,
    It hath sorrow, toil, and strife;
Yet the weak alone will falter
    In the battle-field of life.

There are burdens you may lighten,
    Toiling, struggling ones may cheer,
Tear-dimmed eyes that you may brighten,
    Thorny paths that you may clear; -
Erring ones, despised, neglected,
    You may lead to duty back, -
Beacon-lights to be erected,
    All along life's crowded track.

There are wrongs that must be righted,
    Sacred rights to be sustained,
Truths, though trampled long and slighted,
    'Mid the strife to be maintained; -
Heavy, brooding mists...

Pamela S. Vining (J. C. Yule)

Road-Hymn For The Start

                Leave the early bells at chime,
                Leave the kindled hearth to blaze,
        Leave the trellised panes where children linger out the waking-time,
        Leave the forms of sons and fathers trudging through the misty ways,
        Leave the sounds of mothers taking up their sweet laborious days.

                Pass them by! even while our soul
                Yearns to them with keen distress.
        Unto them a part is given; we will strive to see the whole.
        Dear shall be the banquet table where their singing spirits press;
        Dearer be our sacred hunger, and our pilgrim loneliness.

                We have felt the ancient swaying
                Of the earth before the sun,
        On the darkened marge of midnight heard ...

William Vaughn Moody