Baptists

Jamie by S. Dryden Phelps (1860)

sdryden(this poem was written by Phelps’ while he was in Egypt and he found out that his young son died back home, and also realized that on the very day of his funeral, he unknowingly preached a sermon on “God shall wipe away all tears”)

On Egypt’s far famed River, wondrous Nile!
Where many a Pyramid sublime appears,
Crowned with the glory of three thousand years,
While Time still fails to waste each mountain pile,
We sail where Pharaoh’s place rose so fair,
And MOSES was concealed and found in fears,
The Sabbath comes; our boat’s a place of prayer;

My text: “And God shall wipe away all tears.”
We wept. That day my darling boy at home,
Too bright and beautiful for earth and sin,
From midst my weeping flock, GOD’S house within,
Was borne, in form so lovely, to the tomb.
I heard at length— Oh JAMIE! full of charms
How could I give thee up, save into JESUS’ arms!

by S. Dryden Phelps (1860)

Recollections of Childhood by S. Dryden Phelps (1842)

How blest the glad hours that were spent in my childhood,
While roaming with joy in the warm summer air,
By the mead, and the fountain, the hillock, and wild-wood,sdryden
When youthful companions attended me there.

The scenes of my childhood I fondly remember,
When summer, and winter, and day after day,
We hasted to school, ‘mid the winds of December,
Or rambled among the wild flowerets of May.

How cheerful the evenings when sitting together,
With brothers, and sisters, and parents so dear–
We told pleasing tales while the cold wintry weather
Beat loud on the windows, and snow filled the air.

How oft, when alone, I recall recollections
Of happier scenes in my earliest day–
Of social enjoyments with friends and connexions,
Now sleeping in silence, or far, far away.

Those sweet sunny seasons, oh, who will restore me?
Alas, for their absence–they ne’er will return:
Though long since departed, they seem still before me,
And yet shall remain in fond Memory’s urn.

by S. Dryden Phelps (1842)

Aspiration by Lemuel Covell

One happy evening calm and bright
The world stood silent by,
My muse arose and took her flight
To reach the lofty sky.

My soul on airy pinions flew,
And joyful clapt her wings,
And soared aloft to take a view
Of sweet, celestial things.

Thro’ climes and worlds before unknown,
She reached the happy plains,
Where on a high, majestic throne,
My smiling Jesus reigns.

There the eternal Father sits;
And there the sacred Dove;
All meaner joy my soul forgets,
To take her fill of love.

There hymning seraphs chant their songs,
With ever new delight,
There I beheld angelic throngs,
In robes divinely bright.

There saints in countless numbers be,
Who once were here below,
Complaining pilgrims like to me,
Now freed from all their woe.

No more they mourn a languid frame,
Nor fears nor foes prevail;
Their love breaks out in quenchless flame;
Their joys can never fail.

Their harps can never be unstrung,
So near the Great Supreme;
I listened to the notes they sung,
And Jesus was their theme.

They at the fountain head of bliss,
Drink ever fresh supplies;
No joy to be compared with this,
That’s found beneath the skies.

Why must I grovel here below,
Where sin and sorrow meet,
And scarce a drop of comfort know,
While theirs is bliss complete.

Yet, happy souls, I would not ask
To take your seats above;
I am unequal to your task
Of service, praise and love.

Beneath your feet some humble place,
Will set my heart at rest;
Only the nearer Jesus’ face,
The more divinely blest.

My all dependent on his smiles,
And centered in his love;
Not earth nor hell with all their wiles
Shall e’er my soul remove.

I’ll wait my heavenly Father’s will,
And stay till He shall please,
My warmest wishes to fulfill,
And grant a sweet release.

Then I’ll recline my weary head,
And bid the world adieu;
And leave my flesh among the dead,
To love and sing with you.

The Triumphs of Grace in the Wilderness by Lemuel Covell (1803)

From the realms where the day her first dawnings extends,
The Son of the gospel, in glory ascends!
Ye forests attend, while your children combine
In accents unusual, in transports divine.

Involv’d in uncertainty, darkness and death,
The clouds of destruction hung over our path,
Till yon rising splendor enlightened our way,
And pointed our steps to the regions of day.

A council, on high, has been held, to enquire
For help for mankind; and peace kindled the fire.
Provision is made for the nations distress’d;
And with the rich treasure, all lands be bless’d.

The chain of salvation, let down from above,
Cemented by justice, and brightened by love:
The safety of hope, the conductor of grace,
Joins heaven and earth in its mighty embrace.

On high see our Jesus, the penitent’s friend,
With banners of mercy, compassionate bend;
Inviting the wretched, rebellious and vile,
From ruin to flee, and repose in his smile.

The Prince of Salvation is coming, prepare
A way in the desert, his blessings to share:
He comes to relieve us from sin and from woes,
And bid the dark wilderness bud like the rose.

His reign shall extend from the east to the west,
Compose all the tumults of nature to rest,
The day-spring of glory illumines the skies,
And ages on ages of happiness rise.

The brute-hearted tempers of men shall grow tame,
The wolf and the lion lie down with the lamb;
The bear with the kine shall contentedly feed,
While children their young ones, in harmony lead.

The serpent shall dart all his venom in vain,
The rattle-snake, harmless, shall bask on the plain;
The infant shall play on the hole of the asp,
And, smiling, the folds of the cockatrice grasp.

No more shall the sound of the war-whoop be heard,
The ambush and slaughter, be no longer fear’d;
The tomahawk, buried, shall rust in the ground,
While peace and good will to the nations abound.

All spirit of war, to the gospel shall bow,
The bow lie, unstrung, at the tail of the plough;
To prune the young orchards, the spear shall be bent;
And loving the the world with a smile of content.

Slight tinctures of skin shall no longer engage,
The fury of jealous, murder and rage;
The white and the red shall, in friendship be join’d,
Wide spreading benevolences over mankind.

Hail! scene of felicity, transport and joy!
Where sin and vexation shall scarcely annoy:
Rich blessings of grace, from above, shall be giv’n,
And life only serve for a passage to heav’n!

Roll forward, dear Savior, roll forward the day
When all shall submit and rejoice in thy sway:
When white men and Indians, united in praise,
One vast hallelujah, triumphant, shall raise!

by  Lemuel Covell (1803)

Excerpt from Zion In Distress by Benjamin Keach (1681)

keachYou are to wait for God’s great Dispensations,
At whose disposal is the fate of the Nations;
His time is best, and in due Season he
Will bring this Beast to his Catastrophe.
He sits in Heaven, and beholds with Scorn,
This Rebels Pride. His glorious Son that’s born
Heir of the World, and Prince of Kingdoms too,
Shall surely Reign, because it is his due;
For all to him the Soveraign Rule must yield;
He shall the Crown and Royal Scepter wield:
Nations shall serve him; Kings that have abhor’d
His Name, shall pay him Homage, as their Lord.

by Benjamin Keach, 1681

Creature-Creators and The Creator

(Inspired by Edith Schaeffer’s book The Art of Homemaking. Previously appeared in Reformed Perspectives)

Man was created to create
creativity comes out at his fingertips;
the one who was formed
in the image of God,
images and imagines many things.

God, whose image
is reflected in man,
is a great Sculptor.
We, created in His image,
are inspire to become
producers of and responders to
the lovely, beautiful, and precious.

The difference between
mortal creator-creatures
and the Creator God
is that mere mortals
always create
from preexistent matter
with limited talent, energy, time, and choices.
And so, creaturely creators, do
live by the “sweat of the brow.”

So different is
the Triune God
He can create ex-nihlo
out of nothing.
He is infinite and eternal,
and He is the only unlimited creator.

by Mark Nenadov