The Big Bear Creek

The waters of the Big Bear creek
Glide slowly on their way;
The western lakes they surely seek,
Which they will reach some day;

But sluggishly they seek their end--
They scarcely seem to move;
Yet through the fields and round each bend
Their progress daily prove.

By debris borne upon their breast,
And strewn along each shore,
They slowly move, but never rest,
Yet turbid evermore.

But when they reach the Johnson bend
And the Sni Chartna meet,
The turbid and the sky-blue blend--
The union is complete.

And soon is lost all trace of mud;
Of azure tint the whole;
With heaven's own hue the rolling flood
Has gained the long-sought goal.

So is it with the soul renewed
While on its heaven-bound way,
With grace divine it is embued,
Yet shows the trace of clay.

And though to rest it never halts,
Its progress is so slow;
Alas, it has too many faults,
Nor much of heavenly glow.

But when God's sanctifying grace
Shall meet it from above,
You seek in vain for sinful trace--
It now is full of love.

A new impulse it then receives
Which speeds it on its way;
To it no stain of sin now cleaves--
It seeks its perfect day.

And as the azure stream has found
Its home in brimming lake,
So shall the soul thus heavenward bound
Of God's own joy partake.

Joseph Horatio Chant

Joseph Horatio Chant was a Canadian poet known for his religious and nature-inspired verse. He worked as a farmer and later became an ordained Methodist minister, which influenced his poetry. Chant's work gained modest recognition for its sincere exploration of faith and the Canadian landscape, contributing to the country's early literary heritage. He lived and wrote during the late 19th and early 20th centuries.

Joseph Horatio Chant

The Clouds

Joseph Horatio Chant, Simple Poetry

Alaskan Boundary Settlement

Joseph Horatio Chant, Simple Poetry

God's Order

Joseph Horatio Chant, Simple Poetry

The Highest Goal

Joseph Horatio Chant, Simple Poetry

English

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He Shall Dwell On High

(Isaiah 33:16)


Tossed about in strange commotion
Like the surface of the ocean
When the wind, its waters lashing,
Sends great billows, roaring, dashing
O'er the breakers, which for ages
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See those clouds, so like this ocean,
How they whirl in strange commotion.

Dust and vapor now are meeting,
Each the other wildly greeting;
As one hand another grasping,
So are these each other clasping;
Now they whirl in form fantastic
And great trees with boughs elastic
With loud moans are lowly bending,
Leaves and fruit to earth descending.

Eyes 'most blinded, nerves all shaken,
By this fearful storm o'ertaken,
As it swept on toward the sunrise;
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A Glimpse Of Heaven

As the caged eagle neared the mountain range,
O'er which he oft had soared on pinions strong,
He clapped his wings, moved by some impulse strange,
And then fell dead his prison floor along.

So Moses stood on Pisgah's heights alone,
With sight undimmed, and unabated strength;
He gazed with rapture on the vision shown,
Of the fair land in all its breadth and length;

He saw the vale of Eschol clad with vine,
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Gilead and Achor, with their lowing kine,
And verdant Sharon swept by the sea breeze;

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The Mountain Stream.

One summer morn, while yet the thrilling lay,
Of the dew-loving lark was full and strong,
Trampling the wild flowers in my careless way,
Up the steep mountain-side I strode along
My only guide, a brook whose joyous song,
Seemed like a boy's light-hearted roundelay,
As down it rushed, the leafy bowers among,
Scattering o'er bud and bloom its pearly spray
A beauteous semblance of life's opening day.

And looking back to that all-gladdening morn,
When I was free and sportive as the stream
When roses blushed with no suspected thorn,
And fancy's sunlight gilded every dream
While hope yet shed its sweet delusive beam,
And disappointment still delayed to warn
With fond regret, I still pursued the theme
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A World Redeemed

This world is but the shadow
Of the world that is to be,
A ripple on the surface
Of a deep, unfathomed sea.
God's plans are always perfect,
But long ages intervene
From the planning of the temple
To the glow upon its sheen;
But we can be co-workers
In accomplishing his plan;
For in God's purpose is a place
For every son of man.

The germ may be developed
In a more salubrious clime,
All obstacles surmounted
In the onward march of time,
And nature's forces harnessed
Will their destiny fulfil,
And things now deemed supernal
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For God has so adjusted
The laws of this earthly sphere,
That by man's help his plans unfold,
And order doth appear.

The words of God's own prophets
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Is There A Brighter World?

Beneath the surface of a shallow lake,
Where grasses rank and mammoth rushes grow,
And playful fish their bright fins nimbly shake,
Or madly chase each other to and fro,
The larva of the dragon-fly submerged,
In family large, had taken their abode,
And tho' the waves around them daily surged,
Upon the bending grass they safely rode.

Content were they with life as there enjoyed;
To brighter world they never had aspired,
Had they not felt unfilled an aching void,
And heard a whisper of a life attired
In sapphire robes, 'midst gleams of golden light,
Above their present world, so dank and chill,
Where all day long they wing their happy flight
From roses sweet to lovely daffodil.

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Gather The Wayside Flowers

'Tis well to have a goal in mind,
A life-aim, high and true;
Clear as the day, and well defined,
And ever kept in view.
But God has strewn along the way
Bright flowers of every hue.
Gather the brightest while you may,
For they were meant for you.

Heaven's joy transcends the joys of earth,
But if earth's joys be pure
They must have had a heavenly birth,
And bless while they endure;
So pluck the flower before it fades--
Drink from the purling stream;
Nor look for sorrow's darkening shades,
But for the morning gleam.

Life's burdens lose full half their weight
If gay our spirits be;
The rest beyond we antedate,
And serve, though ever free.
Our lamentations all will end,
Exchanged for smile and song,
And men will mark our u...

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