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 silent and tranquillized, glide!

Let me look in those eyes so much brighter
    For the years they have gazed on the Son, -
On that pure brow grown purer and whiter
    In the smile of God's glorified One; -
Let me rest for a while with closed eyelids,
    On the bank of Life's river, to hear
The song he has learned since he left me,
    Breathed tenderly sweet in my ear -
        The song he has learned of the angels
            And saved ones, breathed soft in my ear!

Thou canst not? - what! hast thou not entered
    The gates of yon city of light? -
Not walked in the flower-bordered pathway
    Of the saved ones in raiment of white? -
Never stood on the bank of Life's River,
    Where gather the glorified throng?
Or glowed with emotion ecstatic
    'Neath the swell of their rapturous song -
        That song he has learned since he left me,
            The redeemed ones' exultant, new song?

O Saviour, the wounded heart's Healer!
    I turn from my sorrow to thee,
The gracious and tender Revealer
    Of glories thy ransomed shall see!
They will pass - the dark cloud that is o'er me,
    The shadows that darken my sky,
And the desolate pathway before me
    Will lead to thy mansions on high; -
        And with him I shall rest in thy presence,
            Forever and ever on high!

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)

Our Country; - Or, - A Century Of Progress.

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

The Assembly Of The Dead.

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

Yes, The Weary Earth Shall Brighten.

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

The Miser

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.

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)

Beyond The Shadows.

Thou hast entered the land without shadows,
    Thou who, 'neath the shadow, so long
Hast sat with thy white hands close-folded,
    And lips that could utter no song;
Through a rift in the cloud, for an instant,
    Thine eyes caught a glimpse of that shore,
And Earth with its gloom was forgotten,
    And Heaven is thine own evermore!

We see not the glorious vision,
    Nor the welcoming melodies hear,
That, from bowers of beauty Elysian,
    Float tenderly sweet to thine ear;
Round us, lie Earth's desolate midnight,
    Her winter-plains bare and untrod, -
Round thee, is the glad, morning sunlight
    That beams from the City of God!

Our eyes have grown heavy with weeping, -
    Thine, "the King in his beauty" behold
And thou leanest th...

Pamela S. Vining (J. C. Yule)

I Will Not Let Thee Go.

        Nay, I will not let thee go,
Though the midnight glideth slow, -
Though the darkness deep and long
Dim the sight and hush the song,
On thy tender, faithful breast,
Find I still my perfect rest -
Soothing sweet for keenest woe -
And I will not let thee go!

        Nay, I will not let thee go,
Though the morn's enkindling glow
Flame along the mountain-height.
Flooding all the hills with light;
What can morning bring to me,
Tender Shepherd, wanting thee?
What its songs but sobs of woe?
Nay, I will not let thee go!

        Nay, I will not let thee go,
Though the day no shadows know;
Though, the sky's serene to dim,
Lower no storm-cloud dark and grim;
Whom have I in Heaven but thee? -
What beside hath earth for me? -

Pamela S. Vining (J. C. Yule)

By And By

        God will not let His bright gifts die
If I may not sing my songs just now
        I shall sing them by and by


A young man with a Poet's soul,
    And a Poet's kindling eye -
Dark, dreamy, full of unvoiced thought -
    And forehead calm and high,
Toiled wearily at his heavy task
    Till his soul grew sick with pain,
And the pent up fires that burned within
    Seemed withering heart and brain

"Work, work, work!" he murmured low,
    Glancing up at the golden west -
Work, with the sunset heavens aglow
    By the hands of angels dressed,
Work for this perishing, human clay,
    While the soul, like a prisoned bird,
Flutters its helpless wings always
    By passionate longings stirred

"I hear in the wandering...

Pamela S. Vining (J. C. Yule)

The Old Church Choir

    I am slowly treading the mazy track
That leadeth, through sunshine and shadows, back -
Through freshest meads where the dews yet cling
As erst they did to each lowly thing,
Where flowers bloom and where streamlets flow
With the tender music of long ago -
To the far-off past that, through mists of tears,
In its spring time loveliness still appears,
And wooes me back to the gleaming shore
Of sunny years that return no more.

    And to night, all weary, and sad, and lone,
I return in thought to those bright years flown,
Whose lingering sweetness, e'en yet, I feel
Like the breath of flower-scents over me steal
I am treading o'er mounds where the dead repose, -
I am stirring the dust of life's perished rose, -
I am rustling the withered leaves that lie

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)