Recognition In Heaven.

Oh! say, shall those ties, now so sacred and dear,
That with rainbow hues tint all our wanderings here,
Be regarded no more in that heavenly sphere
Whose portal's the grave?

When, "washed and forgiven," our spirits ascend
To the home of the blest where all sorrowings end,
O, will not a parent, a sister, a friend,
Haste to welcome us there?

Shall we see no loved form we have gazed on before,
To commune with of times that are faded and o'er?
Will the "dear chosen few" be remembered no more
In that haven of bliss?

O my heart must believe, 'mid ethereal chimes
A gloom would steal over my spirit sometimes,
If the friends I have loved, in these heavenly climes,
Seemed to know me no more.

But hope fondly whispers it shall not be so;
Each purified spirit my bosom shall know,
And all unremembered the 'plaining of woe,
We'll joy in the Lord.

Eliza Paul Kirkbride Gurney

Eliza Paul Kirkbride Gurney was an influential Quaker minister known for her comforting letters to President Abraham Lincoln during the American Civil War. Born on October 22, 1801, in Philadelphia, she became a widow after the death of her husband, Joseph John Gurney, a prominent Quaker minister and abolitionist. Gurney's written works and letters provided solace and guidance during turbulent times. She passed away on December 8, 1881.

Eliza Paul Kirkbride Gurney

Heaven And Earth.

Eliza Paul Kirkbride Gurney, Simple Poetry

On The Death Of My Uncle, Joseph Paul.

Eliza Paul Kirkbride Gurney, Simple Poetry

Ephesians 4:32.

Eliza Paul Kirkbride Gurney, Simple Poetry

On Leaving Pine Cottage.

Eliza Paul Kirkbride Gurney, Simple Poetry

English

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Heaven And Earth.

Turn from the grave, turn from the grave,
There's fearful mystery there;
Descend not to the shadowy tomb,
If thou wouldst shun despair.
It tells a tale of severed ties
To break the bleeding heart,
And from the "canopy of dust"
Would make it death to part.
Oh! lift the eye of faith to worlds
Where death shall never come,
And there behold "the pure in heart"
Whom God has gathered home,
Beyond the changing things of time,
Beyond the reach of care.
How sweet to view the ransomed ones
In dazzling glory there!
They seem to whisper to the loved
Who smoothed their path below,
"Weep not for us, our tears have all
Forever ceased to flow."
Take from the grave, take from the grave,
Those bright, but withering; flowers,
The spiri...

Eliza Paul Kirkbride Gurney

Farewell.

Fare thee well, we've no wish to detain thee,
For the loved ones are bidding thee come,
And, we know, a bright welcome awaits thee
In the smiles and the sunshine of home,
Thou art safe on the crest of the billow,
And safe in the depths of the sea;
For the God we have worshipped together
Is Almighty, and careth for thee.

And when, in the home of thy fathers,
Thy fervent petition shall rise
For the loved who are circling around thee,
The joy and delight of thine eyes,
Oh, then, for the weak and the faltering,
Should a prayer, as sweet incense, ascend
To the God we have worshipped together,
Remember thy far-distant friend.

We miss the calm light of thy spirit,
We miss thy encouraging smile;
But we bless the unslumbering Shepherd
...

Eliza Paul Kirkbride Gurney

Lines Suggested By The Presence Of The English Friends, J. And H. C. Backhouse, In America 1831.

... "They that turn many to righteousness,
shall shine as the stars forever and ever." ...


They have left their homes and kindred, they are in the strangers' land,
The voice of God revealed his will; His will was their command.
They crossed the pathless main, nor feared the sadly treacherous wave,
For is not He in whom they trust omnipotent to save?

But did no dark forebodings come? Was all at peace within?
Did prompt obedience' sure reward e'en with the toil begin?
Ah no! for nature's fond appeal would in that hour be heard;
Maternity's deep spring of love within the heart was stirred.
Perhaps some little cherub form, that it was joy to see,
Would climb no more, with sunny smile, its happy parent's knee;
Perhaps some gentle household voice, that sighed "farewel...

Eliza Paul Kirkbride Gurney

To A Friend.

Ah! be not sad, though adverse winds may blow,
Thy patience and thy fortitude to prove;
Thy Saviour wears no frown upon his brow,
"'Tis but the graver countenance of love."

Though clouds and darkness round about him roll,
In righteousness and truth He sits enthroned;
And precious in His sight the immortal soul,
For whose deep stain of guilt His love atoned.

He makes our dearest earthly comforts flee,
Or, e'en when clustering round us, bids them pall,
That thus the "altogether lovely," He,
"Chief of ten thousand," may be all in all.

And hast thou not some blissful moments known,
Even while bowed beneath the chast'ning rod,
When to thy humble spirit it was shown
That glorious is the "City of thy God?"

Hast thou not seen the King in beauty...

Eliza Paul Kirkbride Gurney

Lines Suggested By The Conversation Of A Brother And Sister In The Chamber Of A Deceased And Highly Valued Parent.

My father! Oh! I cannot dwell
On hours when we shall meet again;
I only feel, I only know
That all my prayers for thee were vain.

"Come, brother, take a last farewell;
Soon, soon they'll bear him far away."
"No, sister, no, he is not there,
I parted with him yesterday.

"Our father is in Heaven now,
Forever free from care and pain;
And, if a half-formed wish could bring
His sainted spirit back again,

"The selfish wish I would not breathe;
'Twould cloud with woe that placid brow,
Round which a seraph seems to wreathe
A crown of glory even now.

"How deep the gloom that mantled there!
How sweetly, too, 'twas all withdrawn!
Thus, ever thus, night's darkest hour
Precedes the day's triumphant dawn.

"Oh! while h...

Eliza Paul Kirkbride Gurney

The Meeting Of Spirits.

From out the dark of death, before the gates
Flung wide, that open into paradise--
More radiant than the white gates of the morn--
A human soul, new-born,
Stood with glad wonder in its luminous eyes,
For all the glory of that blessed place
Flowed thence, and made a halo round the face--
gentle, and strong with the rapt faith that waits
And faints not: sweet with hallowing pain
The face was, as a sunset after rain,
with a grave tender brightness. Now it turned
From the white splendours where God's glory burned,
And the long ranks of quiring cherubim--
Each with wing-shaded eyelids, near the throne,
Who sang--and ceased not--the adoring hymn
Of Holy, Holy! And the cloud of smoke
Went up from the waved censers, with the prayers
Of saints, that wafted outward...

Kate Seymour Maclean