I Laid Me Down And Slept

(Ps. 3 5.)


                                    Dark was the midnight hour,
And wild with storm. Nor moon nor pitying star
Gleamed through the inky darkness from afar;
And Earth seemed reeling blindly to her doom,
As reels some stout ship thro' the midnight gloom,
What time the tempest and the waves have power.

                                    I stood alone that night,
And stretched my chill hands tow'rd the rayless sky,
And heard the wrathful winds go shrieking by,
And thought of one, whose weary feet from far
Were journeying homeward thro' that night's wild war,
Stricken with dire Consumption's deadly blight

                                    "Oh! feeble, woman's hands
Outstretched in anguish thro' the enshrouding dark,
Ye cannot reach that far-off, struggling bark
That seems so lashed and beaten by the storm;
Ye cannot clasp that fever-stricken form,
And lead him home across the cold, wet sands!

                                    "But thou canst kneel and pray,
Oh, burdened one! - Thy Father, through the night
Can hear thy prayer! - Thy tears fall in His sight!
Call e'er so faintly, He thy voice can hear!
Then close the door, and pray; - thy Lord is near -
Is near to thee, and near to him alway!"

                                    Thus spake the voice of Love; -
And, kneeling there, in God's own gracious ear
I whispered all my anguish and my fear,
Then laid me down, and slept, and saw no more
The night's black pall, or heard the sullen roar
Of battling storms that 'mid the darkness strove.

                                    I slept, and woke at length,
Strengthened, sustained. Another day, I knew
That he had been sustained and strengthened too;
And when, at length, his fevered hand I pressed,
I blessed the love that so had brought him rest,
And me, for added sorrows, added strength.

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.

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English

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An Evening Hymn

"I will both lay me down in peace, and sleep; for thou, Lord, only makest me dwell in safety"


    The tranquil hours steal by
        On drowsy wings and slow,
And over all the peaceful sky
        The stars of evening glow.

    No gathering clouds I see,
        I hear no rising blast,
I fold my tired hands restfully,
        As though all storms were past.

    Yet, whether so or not,
        O Lord, thou knowest best!
This night, let every anxious thought
        And trembling fear have rest

    This night I will lie down
        In peace beneath thine eye,
Nor heed what ills unseen may frown,
        Since thou art ever nigh.

    I will lie down and sleep,
        From every terror free;
Nor wake to tremble...

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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)

The Eye That Never Sleeps

When the heavy, midnight shadows
    Gather o'er a slumbering world,
And the banner folds of darkness
    Are in gloomy pomp unfurled, -
Think, lone watcher, pale and tearful,
    In thy sad, unpitied lot,
By the death couch waking, weeping,
    There is One who slumbers not! -
One who, though no mourning brother
    Share thy vigils lone and drear,
Loving, pitying, as no other
    Loves or pities, watches near!

When the waves, o'erwrought by tempest,
    Lift their strong arms to the skies,
And amid the inky darkness
    Shrieks of winds and waters rise, -
Mariner, 'mid doubt and danger,
    Wildly tossed upon the deep,
Think, o'er all in power presiding
    There is One who does not sleep -
One who holds the risen tempest
    I...

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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)

Stay, Mother, Stay!

    "Stay, mother, stay, for the storm is abroad,
And the tempest is very wild;
It's a fearful night with no ray of light,
Oh stay with your little child!"

    "Hush darling!" the mother, with white lips said -
"Lie still till I come again,
God's angels blest will watch o'er thy rest
While I am abroad in the rain!
    Thy father, child? - oh, I quake with fear
When I think where he may be,
And I dare not stay till the dawn of day -
I must hasten forth to see!"

    Then the young child buried her tangled curls
In the ragged counterpane,
While the half-clad mother went forth alone
In the blinding wind and rain.

    Down many a narrow, slippery lane,
Down many a long, dark street,
Went that shivering form thro' the pelting storm
O...

Pamela S. Vining (J. C. Yule)

Alone

Alone, alone! - the night is very silent,
    Voiceless the stars are, and the pallid moon
Through the unknown sends down no tone, no utt'rance
    To break the hush of midnight's solemn noon!
I stretch my arms toward the unanswering heavens,
    'Tis empty space, - no form, no shape is here!
I call, - no answer to my cry is given,
    Powerless my voice falls on Night's leaden ear!

Alone, alone! - I thought the dead were near me, -
    The holy dead.    E'en now, methought I heard
Low tones whose music long ago did cheer me,
    That shadowy hands the parting branches stirred
'Twas but the night wind's mournful sigh above me, -
    'Twas but the lonely streamlet's grieving tone,
No voice comes back from those who once did love me, -
    No white hand beckons...

Pamela S. Vining (J. C. Yule)