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 me
    A holy, tranquillized repose,
Calmer than summer noontides be,
    Softer than twilight's tenderest close -
Peace, deeper than the peace that stole
    O'er the vexed Galilean flood,
When One, Almighty to control,
    Breathed o'er it the still "peace" of God.
To break that calm, no throbbing pain
    May ever come, no chilling fears,
No hopes unreached, no yearnings vain,
    No love-light quenched in sorrow's tears;
But, while eternal ages glide,
    That hallowed peace without alloy
Shall still increase, and still abide,
    A deepening fount of holiest joy.


III.

Somewhere, I know, there wait for me
    Sweet tones that wander back betimes
Through the charmed gates of Memory,
    Like far-off swell of Sabbath chimes;
And fair, sweet faces, dimly seen
    In the uncertain light of dreams,
And glances, tender and serene
    As star-beams mirrored soft in streams; -
They wait for me who long have missed,
    From the lone paths I since have pressed,
The hands I clasped, the lips I kissed,
    The loves that life's young morning blessed, -
Wait long, while still, through mist and tears
    I darkly wend my pilgrim way,
Until for me the dawn appears
    And night gives place to perfect day


IV.

Somewhere, I know, in brighter lands,
    ONE waits - "the Fairest of the Fair" -
With loving words and gentle hands,
    To welcome all who gather there.
"Father, I will," we heard Him say,
    "That those whom thou hast given me
Be with me where I am, that they
    My glory evermore may see!"
And there, without a veil between,
    The sweetness of His face to hide,
Him whom I've loved yet never seen,
    I shall behold well satisfied -
And, viewing Him, shall sweetly be
    Transformed into His image bright,
And through a glad Eternity
    Walk in His love's unclouded light!

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)

Three For Three.

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

Frost-Flowers.

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

Yes, The Weary Earth Shall Brighten.

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

Patience

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

English

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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,
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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)

At Home

I thought it pleasant when a manly sire
Weary of foreign travel, at the door
Of his own cottage left his dusty staff,
And entering in, sat down with those he loved
Beside the hearth of home; - and pleasant, too,
When a fond mother, absent for a day,
At eve returning, from the sunset hill
That overlooked her cot, descried her boys
Flying with joyous feet along the path
To greet her coming; and, with clasping hands
Of baby welcome, lead her through the gate
Of her sweet home.

                                    Pleasant I deemed it, too,
When a young man, a wanderer for years
From those he loved, at length sat down again
With sire and mother in the twilight hour
At home; - and when a gentle daughter, long
From mother's kiss and father's blessing far,<...

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)

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)

Sabbath Memories.

I love thee, Sabbath morn! - I cannot say
    But 'tis because my father loved thee so, -
    Because my mother's care-worn face would grow
So sweetly placid in thy peaceful ray; -

It may be, that is part of what endears
    Thee, Sabbath, to my soul; for memory stirs
    Old buried thoughts of his voice and of hers -
Heard never more on Earth - till sudden tears

So sadly sweet well up, I bid them flow,
    They leave a Sabbath in the soul when past;
    As when the sky, by April clouds o'ercast,
Shows fairer in the sun's returning glow.

I see the grass-grown lane we trod of old,
    Dear father, sainted mother! while
    The Sabbath sun looked down with loving smile,
And touched the hills and streams with rippling gold.

I hear y...

Pamela S. Vining (J. C. Yule)