Come Unto Me.

Weary soul, by care oppressed,
Wouldst thou find a place of rest?
Listen, Jesus calls to thee,
Come, and find thy rest in me!

Hungry soul, why pine and die
With exhaustless stores so nigh?
Lo, the board is spread for thee,
Come, and feast to-day with me!

Thirsty soul, earth's sweetest rill
Mocks thee with its promise still;
Hark, the Saviour calls to thee,
Here is water, come to me!

Homeless soul, thy path is drear,
Angry tempests gather near,
Night is darkening over thee,
Here is shelter, come to me!

Heavenly bread and heavenly wine,
Living waters, all are mine! -
Mine they are, and thine may be,
Weary wand'rer, come to me!

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)

A Holiday Song.

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

Judson's Grave.

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

At The Grave Of A Young Mother

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

One By One

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

English

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Come Unto Me

    Come unto me, the Master says:--
        But how? I am not good;
    No thankful song my heart will raise,
        Nor even wish it could.

    I am not sorry for the past,
        Nor able not to sin;
    The weary strife would ever last
        If once I should begin!

    Hast thou no burden then to bear?
        No action to repent?
    Is all around so very fair?
        Is thy heart quite content?

    Hast thou no sickness in thy soul?
        No labour to endure?
    Then go in peace, for thou art whole;
        Thou needest not his cure.

    Ah, mock me not! I often sigh;
        I have a nameless grief,
    A faint sad pain--but such that I
        Can look for no relief.

    Come, come to him who ma...

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Longings

Sleep, gentle, mysterious healer,
    Come down with thy balm-cup to me!
Come down, O thou mystic revealer
    Of glories the day may not see!
For dark is the cloud that is o'er me,
    And heavy the shadows that fall,
And lone is the pathway before me,
    And far-off the voice that doth call -
        Faintly, yet tenderly ever,
            From over the dark river, call.

Let me bask for an hour in the sun-ray
    That wraps him forever in light;
Awhile tread his flowery pathway
    Through bowers of unfailing delight; -
Again clasp the hands I lost sight of
    In the chill mist that hung o'er the tide,
What time, with the pale, silent boatman,
    I saw him away from me glide -
        Out into the fathomless myst'ry,
            All s...

Pamela S. Vining (J. C. Yule)

Jesus The Souls Rest.

"Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest."


I gave myself to Jesus
    In my sunny childhood's years,
When on my young, unsullied cheek
    There lay no trace of tears;
I little knew what gift I gave,
    Nor yet what gift I took;
For life without and life within
    Were each a sealed-up book.

But soon enough unfolding years
    Brought sorrow, toil, and pain, -
Brought disappointment's burning tears,
    And yearnings wild and vain;
And then I learned what precious Gift
    In Jesus I received
In that still hour of childish trust,
    When my young heart believed.

'Twas then I knew what arm unseen
    Was round me 'mid the strife,
The blighted hope, the toil uncheered,
 ...

Pamela S. Vining (J. C. Yule)

Under The Rod

"Be Still, and know that I am God!"


Be silent, Soul! - though dark thy path and dreary,
    And wild with storm, yet what is that to thee?
Though thou art faint, and desolate, and weary,
    Thy God hath willed thus, - so let it be!
Murmurs the mountain oak when storms assail it,
    And warring tempests wildly shake its form?
Firmer within the earth its root it striketh,
    And gathers strength and vigor from the storm.

Be silent, Soul! - the hand of God is on thee!
    And, as a skillful gard'ner, from the vine
Doth lop away each worthless branch and barren,
    So He would lop each fruitless bough of thine.
Ah! thou art earth-bound, prone, and lowly creeping,
    clinging to things too frail to be thy stay;
Jesus, with watchful care His vineya...

Pamela S. Vining (J. C. Yule)

Somewhere

"For he looked for a city that hath foundations, whose Maker and Builder is God."


I.

Somewhere, I know, there waits for me
    A home that mocks the pomp of Earth,
Eye hath not seen its majesty,
    Nor heart conceived its priceless worth, -
Talk not of crystal, gems, or gold,
    Or towers that flame in changeless light,
Imagination, weak and cold,
    Faints far below the unmeasured height!
And through its open doors for aye,
    As ages after ages glide,
Without a moment's pause or stay,
    Flows grandly in the living tide -
Brothers, redeemed ones, pressing home
    From every clime, from every shore,
Beneath that fair celestial dome
    Meet to be parted nevermore!


II.

Somewhere, I know, there waits for ...

Pamela S. Vining (J. C. Yule)

Come Unto Me

"Come unto me!" Ah, gentlest word
E'er breathed in human ear!
"I am thy Savior and thy Lord;
Dear child, thou need'st not fear.

"Come unto me in sorrow's hour
When life seems dark and drear;
I'll shield thee from the tempter's power;
Dear child, thou need'st not fear.

"Come unto me when hopes have flown
Like leaves wind-swept and sere,
When every joy thou may'st bemoan;
Dear child, thou need'st not fear.

"Come unto me. I'll give thee rest,
Will wipe away each tear;
Come lean thy head upon my breast;
Dear child, thou need'st not fear."

Nancy Campbell Glass