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,
    The cold, rude storms of life;
And when the reeds on which I leaned
    All failed me one by one,
I clasped my pierced and bleeding hands,
    And wept, but not alone.

For He was near me midst the strife,
    And, leaning on His arm,
I trod the thorny paths of life,
    Safe sheltered from all harm;
The while He whispered to my heart,
    "I gave my life for thee!
Then, heavy laden as thou art,
    Cast all thy care on me!"

"On me! ON ME!" - oh, gentle word! -
    O Sympathy divine! -
O Fount of joy, how deeply stirred,
    Within this heart of mine! -
O cool, sweet Waters, how ye stilled
    The fever of my brain, -
And soothed the heart-strings that had thrilled
    With agonizing pain!

My own, - My Rock! - the heavy tide
    May beat in uproar dread,
Calmly 'gainst its unmoving side
    I rest my weary head; -
For well I know how deep it strikes
    Beneath the raging flood -
My Soul's firm Anchor 'mid the strife,
    My Refuge and my God!

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)

Gone Before

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

The World's Day.

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

The White Stone Canoe

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

Not Yet

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

English

Suggested Poems

Explore a curated selection of verses that share themes, styles, and emotional resonance with the poem you've just read.

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)

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)

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 ...

Pamela S. Vining (J. C. Yule)

Love

God so loved me that He gave
Jesus for my sins to die;
Jesus loved me in the grave,
Jesus loves me still on high, -
Father-love and Saviour-love,
Mine on earth and mine above!

Love, from highest heights that stooped, -
Love, to deepest depths that came, -
Love, that 'neath my burden drooped, -
Bore my anguish and my shame -
Died, that I may never die, -
Living, lifts me to the sky!

Love, the arm that reached me first, -
Love, the hand that raised me up, -
Love, my prison-bars that burst, -
Love, that filled my brimming cup -
Filled it full of Heavenly wine -
Filled, and blessed, and made it mine!

Love, the holy, cleansing fount
Where I wash my garments white, -
Love, my Tabor, hallowed mount,
Where I stand with Him in...

Pamela S. Vining (J. C. Yule)

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)

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)