The Novels of Faith – Premium 7 Book Collection. Finley Martha

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ

      He nodded assent, and she went on. "They are some Miss Rose sent me in one of her letters. She cut them out of a newspaper, she said, and sent them to me because she liked them so much; and I too think they are very sweet. The piece is headed:

      "'THE PILGRIM'S WANTS.'

      "'I want a sweet sense of Thy pardoning love,

       That my manifold sins are forgiven;

       That Christ, as my Advocate, pleadeth above,

       That my name is recorded in heaven.

      "'I want every moment to feel

       That thy Spirit resides in my heart—

       That his power is present to cleanse and to heal,

       And newness of life to impart.

      "'I want—oh! I want to attain

       Some likeness, my Saviour, to thee!

       That longed for resemblance once more to regain,

       Thy comeliness put upon me.

      "'I want to be marked for thine own—

       Thy seal on my forehead to wear;

       To receive that new name on the mystic white stone

       Which none but thyself can declare.

      "'I want so in thee to abide

       As to bring forth some fruit to thy praise;

       The branch which thou prunest, though feeble and dried,

       May languish, but never decays.

      "'I want thine own hand to unbind

       Each tie to terrestrial things,

       Too tenderly cherished, too closely entwined,

       Where my heart so tenaciously clings.

      "'I want, by my aspect serene,

       My actions and words, to declare

       That my treasure is placed in a country unseen,

       That my heart's best affections are there.

      "'I want as a trav'ller to haste

       Straight onward, nor pause on my way;

       Nor forethought in anxious contrivance to waste

       On the tent only pitched for a day.

      "'I want—and this sums up my prayer—

       To glorify thee till I die;

       Then calmly to yield up my soul to thy care,

       And breathe out in faith my last sigh.'"

      [Footnote: These beautiful words are not mine, nor do I know either the name of the author or where they were originally published.]

      He was silent for a moment after she had repeated the last verse, then laying his hand softly on her head, and looking searchingly into her eyes, he asked, "And does my little one really wish all that those words express?"

      "Yes, papa, for myself and for you too," she answered. "O papa! I do want to be all that Jesus would have me! just like Him; so like Him that everybody who knows me will see the likeness and know that I belong to Him."

      "Nay, you belong to me," he said, leaning over her and patting her cheek. "Hush! not a syllable from your lips. I will have no gainsaying of my words," he added, with a mixture of authority and playfulness, as she seemed about to reply. "Now shut your eyes and go to sleep; I will have no more talking to-night."

      She obeyed at once; the white lids gently closed over the sweet eyes, the long, dark lashes rested quietly on the fair, round cheek, and soon her soft regular breathing told that she had passed into the land of dreams.

      Her father sat, still holding the little hand, and still gazing tenderly upon the sweet young face, till, something in its expression reminding him of words she had just repeated,

      "I want to be marked for thine own—

       Thy seal on my forehead to wear,"

      he laid it gently down, rose, and bent over her with a troubled look.

      "Ah, my darling, that prayer is granted already!" he murmured; "for, ah me! you seem almost too good and pure for earth. But oh, God forbid that you should be taken from me to that place where I can see that your heart is even now. How desolate should I be!" and he turned away with a shiver and a heavy sigh, and hastily quitted the room.

      Chapter Thirteenth

       Table of Contents

      "An angel face! its sunny wealth of hair,

       In radiant ripples bathed the graceful throat

       And dimpled shoulders."

       —MRS. OSGOOD.

      The cold gray light of a winter morning was stealing in through the half-closed blinds as Elsie awoke, and started up in bed, with the thought that this was the day on which several of her young guests were expected, and that her papa had promised her a walk with him before breakfast, if she were ready in time.

      Aunt Chloe had already risen, and a bright fire was blazing and crackling on the hearth, which she was carefully sweeping up.

      "Good morning, mammy," said the little girl. "Are you ready to dress me now?"

      "What, you 'wake, darlin'?" cried the fond old creature, turning quickly round at the sound of her nursling's voice. "Better lie still, honey, till de room gets warm."

      "I'll wait a little while, mammy," Elsie said, lying down again, "but I must get up soon; for I wouldn't miss my walk with papa for a great deal. Please throw the shutters wide open, and let the daylight in. I'm so glad it has come."

      "Why, my bressed lamb, you didn't lie awake lookin' for de mornin', did you? You ain't sick, nor sufferin' any way?" exclaimed Chloe, in a tone of mingled concern and inquiry, as she hastily set down her broom, and came toward the bed, with a look of loving anxiety on her dark face.

      "Oh, no, mammy! I slept nicely, and feel as well as can be," replied the little girl; "but I am glad to see this new day, because I hope it is going to be a very happy one. Carry Howard, and a good many of my little friends are coming, you know, and I think we will have a very pleasant time together."

      "Your ole mammy hopes you will, darlin'," replied Chloe, heartily; "an' I'se glad 'nough to see you lookin' so bright an' well; but jes you lie still till it gets warm here. I'll open de shutters, an' fotch some more wood for de fire, an' clar up de room, an' by dat time I reckon you can get up."

      Elsie СКАЧАТЬ