The Seven Churches of Revelation.

I. EPHESUS ("DESIRE").
PRIMEVAL days of truth and love,
Sweet foretaste of the joys above:
When the redeemed with one accord
Shall praise and magnify the Lord.
The Holy Ghost had first been given—
Blest Comforter sent down from Heaven—
The seal and certain earnest He
Of all that soon we hope to be.
Endued by Him with mighty power,
That waited for and promised dower;
They kindling into holy flame
Proclaimed salvation in that Name.
His who now liveth and was dead,
"Christ Jesus," their exalted Head.
The ardour of such zeal was felt,
And hardest hearts began to melt;
Alarmed, their lost estate they knew,
But soon the cry, "What shall we do?”
Was answered by the words, "Believe
On Him whom Heaven must now receive,
Until He comes again and brings
Glad restitution on His wings."
Three thousand that same day believed—
Life, peace, and pardon then received.
All were baptised in Jesus' name,
Regarding His reproach and shame
As riches more than gold or gem,
Than Egypt's costliest diadem.
Each laid their treasures at the feet
Of holy men, and deemed it meet
That, as one family, all should share
Alike the common pilgrim fare;
So, when the daily meals were spread,
Their bodies and their souls were fed,
Their mutual converse was with grace,
And joy beamed from each happy face.
No cold, suspicious look was there
To mar that scene divinely fair;
Nor had division's ruthless hand
Yet ventured to assail that band.
They met in Jesus' name alone—
None else they knew, none else would own.
Christ was their Head in Heaven, and they
As brethren owned His blessed sway.
Not all on the great battlefield
Were skilled alike the sword to wield;
There the most gifted took the lead,
To face the foe or sow the seed.
But when the weekly feast was spread—
The poured-out wine, the broken bread—
No one presided. Who would dare
Usurp the place of Jesus there?
For, though His form they could not see,
Yet He had said, "There will I be,
There in the midst My place to claim
With those assembling in My name."
Thence looked they back with tearful eye
To that dark scene on Calvary;
While in the broken bread, with awe,
The wounded Lamb of God they saw.
And also of the precious blood,
That perfect sin-atoning flood,
The purple juice of earthly vine
Poured in the cup, the appointed sign.
As this endearing feast was kept,
With thoughts of grief and joy they wept—
Grief for His sorrows meekly borne,
Joy in the hope of His return.

Primeval days of holy fire!
Would that a nobler, sweeter lyre
Than mine were kindled in your praise,
To sing those long-forgotten ways.
O may the sheep that scattered roam
On every mountain, far from home.
To the old paths be gently led,
In the one fold by Him be fed.
May that first love within us burn
Whilst, Lord, we wait for Thy return;
So shall our lamp shine clear and bright,
Till dawns the promised morning's light.

Primeval love! why didst thou cease
To be on earth the star of peace?
What dimmed thy lustre so divine?
Why thy so sad, so swift decline?
'Tis Jesus speaks; let every ear
Attentive bend His words to hear:
"Thy works and patient zeal I know,
The care thou ever dost bestow
To keep My house from error pure,
Nor evil-doers canst endure;
For My name's sake much hast thou borne,
Nor fainted though by labours worn.
All this I mark, but yet in thee
See traces of apostasy.
Thy first love, once so warm and true,
Has passed away like morning dew.
Remember those first holy days-—
The loving and unselfish ways
Which then adorned thee—and behold
How great thy fall, thy love how cold.
Repent, and to thy first works turn,
Or soon thy light may cease to burn,
And thy dimmed lamp no more shall be
A witness in this place for Me."
Loud warning notes are sounded here—
They call us to heart-searching fear.
What though all purity we boast,
If the fresh dew of youth be lost?
Though in the fight we've foremost been,
If grey hairs here and there are seen?
May this Ephesian warning prove
Incentive strong to us to love,
If as assemblies we would shine
For God, with lustre all divine.
Then, as o'ercomers, we at last,
All trial and all failure past,
Shall gather round Life's vernal tree,
From sin for ever saved and free,
In God's own paradise above,
Bathed in an atmosphere of love,
Each bosom glows with heavenly fire
In that fair city of "Desire."

II. SMYRNA ("SUFFERING").
THICK clouds of sorrow gathered round
The little flock—rude tempests frowned;
For Satan all his rage employed,
And power, that they might be destroyed.
Men hated them, and caused their name
To be despised; reproach and shame
Their portion was; as sheep were they
To slaughter led from day to day,
Because they would not bow the knee
Before the Pagan deity,
Or incense on their altars burn,
Or to their former ways return.
Before tribunals they were brought,
Where oft their lives they might have bought
By what to many might have seemed
A trivial act, as nothing deemed.
"To throw some incense on that fire,"
Said they, "is all that we require,
That you may go unbound and free,
In honour, peace, and liberty.
But daring still to disobey
His word who holds imperial sway;
If your new faith you will retain,
You choose the dungeon and the chain;
Thence to be brought, as we require,
To the arena or the fire."
With tearful eye and quivering frame
The gentle maid and noble dame,
Strong in the Lord, stood firm and true,
While friends and children wept adieu.
Their tender hearts were sorely tried,
When o'er them loving parents sighed,
Entreating them to bow the knee,
To burn the incense and be free.
But steadfast in the faith they stood,
And nobly sealed it with their blood.
Old men of heavenly look and mien
In the arena oft were seen,
By savage beasts to fragments rent,
Their ransomed souls to Jesus sent.
Young men and maidens, children too,
To Christ and to His faith stood true;
Nor counted they their lives as dear,
Unmoved alike by bribe or fear.
And many wandered to and fro,
Without a home where they could go
In safety, but were glad to hide
In den, or cave, or mountain side.
In sheepskins and in goatskins dressed,
They found not here a place of rest.
The worldling—the mere child of earth,
Knew not their name or noble birth;
Those were God's heroes of renown,
For whom awaits the martyrs' crown.
Ofttimes they met at dead of night
With trembling, though with glad delight,
In subterranean meeting-place,
To hear God's Word and seek His face.
Oft broke they there the symbol bread,
Drank from the cup with vintage red;
There strength was to their spirits given
To tread the thorny path to Heaven,
For they remembered that their Lord
And Saviour—evermore adored—
In love His life-blood for them gave,
That He their souls from wrath might save.

Ye Christians, in these easy days,
Compare your faith, your deeds, your ways.
With theirs, and let each ask, "Would I
For Jesus be prepared to die?
Have I not often stayed away
When fellow-saints were met to pray;
And even from His table spread
For me with more than angels' bread,
Because the day was cold or wet,
Or some slight ailment me beset;
It might be did not feel inclined,
Waiting for better frame of mind?"
Blush when ye think of Smyrna days,
Consider in their light your ways;
Go to Rome's catacombs and read
The record of heroic deed.
Had those sepulchral caves but speech,
How eloquently might they preach!
How echo back the holy hymn
Once swelling through the cloisters dim!
Ponder that Day, so near at hand,
When we shall all together stand
Before the judgment-seat on high
To give account of deeds gone by.
With thee He may perchance contrast
Those faithful ones whose lot was cast
In those dark troublous times; whose love
Raised them all human fears above;
Who braved the lion, sword and flame,
To gather to His holy name.
They lost their lives for Christ, but they
Shall reign with Him through endless day;
While all who now shrink from the Cross
Will suffer corresponding loss.
With that tribunal full in view,
Steadfast in heart, with purpose true,
May we be fired with Smyrna zeal,
Though Smyrna fires we may not feel.
 
III. PERGAMOS ("MARRIAGE").
THE storm at last was hushed to peace:
One came to power who caused to cease
The persecution that so long
Had raged against the little throng
Of Jesus' followers, and had made
Them seek the catacombs' dark shade.
‘Tis said the Emperor Constantine
Did to the ways of truth incline;
Again, that men at length were tired
Of cruel deeds by hell inspired.
Both may be true; but surely He
Who holds in check the mighty sea,
Who to its proud waves gives command,
And binds them with a chain of sand;
Who their wild fury doth control,
Thus far no further may they roll;
He who can make men's wrathful ways
Subservient even to His praise,
And the remainder then restrain,
As clouds are sealed up after rain:
'Twas He who stayed the fiery tide,
And gave them peace on every side;
Who brought their sufferings to an end,
And made the emperor their friend.

It was a changed scene indeed,
And pagans soon embraced the creed
Of Christians, hoping to obtain
Imperial favour, and to gain
By that emolument and power,
With gifts of gold and silver dower.
Such sought communion with the few
Who scarce as yet believed it true
That rest had come; they almost seemed
To walk about as men that dreamed.
Some of them even thought that they
Had lived to see the Dawn of Day.
That Day which oft in sorrow's night
Glad hope had brought before their sight,
When Jesus should return again
With all His saints o'er earth to reign.

'Twas but a dream of guilty sleep,
They failed a godly watch to keep;
They who the worldling's frown had braved,
Were by the world's embrace enslaved;
For there were those like him of old
Who dearly loved rewards of gold.
They held the doctrine Balaam taught,
A deadly lie with sorrow fraught;
Those sheep-like wolves an entrance gained
By subtile words and manners feigned,
Till many in the church found place,
Who never knew God's saving grace.

Alas! that she, the spotless bride,
Should to the world have turned aside;
Forgetful of her heavenly birth,
To seek her glory from the earth.
The world had wooed and won her heart;
Imperial Rome now took her part,
And quickly changed her pilgrim dress
For royal robes of costliness.
And as year after year went by,
She still increased in majesty;
Until at last in splendour seen,
She sat enthroned, the world's proud queen.
And since that marriage knot was tied,
The church and world walk side by side;
She bowing at his golden shrine,
He drinking her bewitching wine;
And fondly dreaming all is well,
Though on the downward path to hell.

But some there were who overcame,
Confessing nobly Jesus' name;
Whose works of faith and love shone bright,
Amid the sadly waning light.
Such were content to follow on
The narrow path, though faint and lone.
To them the Lord spoke words of cheer,
For theirs was still the open ear.
Ofttimes in secret did they eat
God's Word, "the hidden manna" sweet.
His promise was a pure white stone,
With an engraving known alone
To the receiver—a new name
Emblazoned with eternal fame.
Renouncing thus earth's gaudy toys,
For them awaited endless joys.
Those were the loyal and the true,
Though but a feeble band and few.
May we with such be faithful found,
Like them in works of faith abound. 

IV. THYATIRA ("SACRIFICE").
IN history's book the saddest page
Records the dark mediaeval age,
When the apostate church was seen,
In worldly pomp and wealth—a queen.
Much she resembled in her ways
Queen Jezebel of ancient days,
Who made the people bow the knee
In acts of gross idolatry.
Like her, involved in deepest guilt,
The blood of God's true saints she spilt.
Instead of faith and love and hope,
She had priest, cardinal, and pope—
A trinity of evil they
Who over every land held sway.
Such was the earthly power she gained,
That even over kings she reigned.
So much they feared her awful frown,
That none would dare assume the crown,
Or enter on the regal state,
However powerful, grand, or great,
Until before the papal see
He tremblingly had bent the knee,
And from the pope or prelate's hand
Received both kingdom and command.

Apostate Rome loved not the light,
So kept God's Word hid out of sight,
Lest any by its aid should see
The depths of her vile sorcery.
The priests alone might dare to look.
Within the pages of that Book,
Though even they might not presume
To tell its meaning, or assume
That their own judgment they might use
Should they that Book of books peruse.
"The holy Mother Church," said they,
"Must guide all thoughts; thou must obey
Her words infallible and sure,
Or death by torture must endure."

But there were there a feeble few
Who to their Lord stood firm and true,
Who from the days of pagan fire
Had handed down to son from sire
God's Word, a priceless heritage.
And, 'mid the darkness of that age,
It was to them a beacon light
When all around was sunk in night.
Their steps had not been turned aside
To Rome's idolatry and pride;
They had not owned her sacrifice,
Nor to her idols turned their eyes.
Amid their Alpine vales secure,
Too insignificant and poor
To be observed, for many a year
They dwelt in peace and knew no fear;
There worshipped God in truth and love,
While oft the lofty peaks above
Re-echoed back the sweet refrain
Uprising from the verdant plain.

They, mindful of the Lord's command
To preach the Word in every land,
Sent missionaries two by two,
Men of devoted heart and true.
As humble pedlars forth they went
Two years to spend and to be spent;
Where'er the Lord their steps might lead,
They bore the precious gospel seed.
Oft when their wares had been displayed,
And various purchases been made,
With chosen words and serious air
They thus addressed the listener fair:
"O lady, there is yet one gem
Too bright for earthly diadem;
Fain would we leave this treasure true,
This priceless jewel, now with you.
If you but promise not to say
Who gave this Book, or to betray
Us to the clergy, we will place
Within your hand this gift of grace.
Nay, ask not of its price, 'tis free
As summer sunshine on the lea;
And may the Holy Spirit shine
Upon the page with light divine."
In simple faith, from year to year,
They sowed the seed with many a tear,
And when the season had expired,
Back to their valleys they retired.
Not all, alas! for many sealed
Their faith with blood; nor would they yield
Their testimony clear and true,
With rack or flaming stake in view.
Nor yet when torture made each vein
A channel of acutest pain,
Until, the fiery trial o'er,
They stood upon the golden shore.

Far better that than Alpine vales,
So soon to echo back the wails
Of murdered families, whose blood
With crimson tinged the mountain flood,
For persecution's wintry blast
Blew o'er their happy homes at last,
And Jezebel, with ruthless hand,
Dispersed them from their fatherland—
From vales which from the earliest age
Had been their home and heritage.

Those were the overcomers then,
Who, when the Lord returns to reign,
Shall with Him o'er the earth hold sway
Throughout the long millennial day.
When He, the Morning Star, shall rise,
And call His people to the skies,
Each mountain slope and lonely steep,
Where the o'ercomers' ashes sleep,
Shall yield the consecrated dust
Which long they've held in sacred trust.
Death's bonds by Jesus shall be riven,
The victors' crowns by Him be given;
And theirs shall be age-during fame
Who suffered for His faith and name.
May we, like them, be faithful found,
Though shades of darkness gather round,
Present ourselves—a blood-bought prize—
To God a living sacrifice. 

V. SARDIS ("THOSE ESCAPING").
AS prisoners longing to be free
To breathe the air of liberty;
As those who watch for morning light,
'Mid gloomy terrors of the night;
As storm-tossed sailors, tempest driven,
Their cable snapped, their canvas riven,
Wish the long voyage to be o'er,
And hail with joy the distant shore:
So 'mid the shades of papal night
Some eyes were longing for the light,
Some spirits hungered to be fed
With God's own pure and heavenly bread;
And groaning 'neath the oppressors' sway,
They secretly for light did pray.
God heard their cry, the inward groan
Rose up like incense to His throne,
Until in His own sovereign way
He ushered in the dawn of day.

Huss, in Bohemia, raised his voice,
And called the people to rejoice
In God's salvation, full and free.
“ 'Tis Jesus saves, and only He,"
Became the burden of his cry,
Till called among the flames to die.
Yet the fierce fury of that blaze
The beacon light of truth did raise,
Till like the sunrise clear and bright
It put the darksome shades to flight.

As time went on, at last there rose
For God, against His people's foes,
A hero of undaunted brow,
Refusing to Rome's gods to bow.
The voice of Jesus he had heard,
Through feeding on the Living Word;
Had felt the light and joy and love
Of Christ within his spirit move;
Had known at last true rest and peace,
When taught from his own works to cease;
Had learned at last, with glad surprise,
That FAITH IN JESUS JUSTIFIES.
This truth set Martin Luther free
From bondage and idolatry.
For had he not, with aching bones,
Been climbing up St. Peter's stones?
To him this penance had been given,
To cancel sin and purchase Heaven;
When suddenly within his soul
A light from God's own Spirit stole;
A voice within his spirit spoke,
The silence of his soul it broke—
"The just shall live by faith," it said.
And Luther rose as from the dead,
To publish both with tongue and pen
God's glad good news to fallen men;
Till Germany at last was free,
And ceased to Rome to bow the knee,
While vile indulgences for sin
No more the people's gold could win.

In other lands the truth fast spread,
And martyrs' blood was freely shed;
But still the Living Word prevailed,
Though by fierce enemies assailed.
Wycliffe, to English memory dear,
Regardless of Rome's threats severe,
Gave England, in her native tongue,
God's precious Word, that old and young,
And rich and poor, both high and low,
Might read and God's salvation know.
While Tyndale, of a later date,
Well knowing what might be his fate,
In language all could understand
Sent forth the Scriptures through the land.
It cost him liberty and life—
And many a hero in that strife
Of light with darkness gained a crown
Of life; they braved the hellish frown
Which sent them to the fiery stake
For Jesus' and the Gospel's sake.

But time would fail, and also space,
To mention every name and place:
As Knox and Cameron, mighty men,
Whose voices over moor and glen,
In Scotland, sounded loud and clear,
In tones that made the sovereign fear.
"For Knox's prayers," the queen would say,
"Fill me with dread and more dismay
Than a great army's swift advance,
With spear and shield and glittering lance."
There many a martyr's blood was shed,
Oft was the purple heath dyed red;
And oft the blazing faggots piled
Round silvered head and blooming child.
What though their ashes scattered lie?
The poured out blood has still a cry
Which reaches even to the throne
Of Him to whom belongs alone
That vengeance which His mighty power
Will bring on Rome in one short hour.
Rome's power was broken in those lands;
Both church and state shook off her bands.
Yet still they to each other clave,
And each to each support still gave.
Head of the Church, the title given
Alone to Christ, the Lord in Heaven,
On earthly sovereigns was conferred.
Hence then to Sardis comes this word
From Him who has at His command
Seven spirits, and within His hand
Holds safe the mystic stars whose light
Should have illumed earth's sable night:

"I know thy works, a name thou hast
To live, but living days are past
With thee; be watchful and make strong
The few things that to thee belong,
Or even they will soon be dead
And darkness close around thy head.
No work of thine I've perfect seen
Before My God, nor hast thou been
A witness to thy standard true;
Though e'en in thee there are a few
Who faithful to My Word have been,
Their robes preserved from error clean;
Themselves thus proving sons of light,
And they shall walk with Me in white.
Remember how thou hast received
That Word of Life; what those achieved
To make it thine; how dearly bought
Those truths for which the martyrs fought.
Hold fast what little still remains,
Break free from error's subtle chains,
Lest coming on thee unaware
My advent prove to thee a snare."

Who may in Sardis have an ear,
Let them these words of warning hear;
Cleave to God's Word with purpose true,
And be among the faithful few
To whom white raiment shall be given,
Whose names are registered in Heaven. 

VI. PHILADELPHIA ("Brotherly Love").
THE Reformation brought to light
Truth that was long concealed from sight;
Faith's buried shield o'erlaid with rust
Had then been rescued from the dust.
But Hope, that helmet of the brave,
Still hidden lay as in a grave,
Though in the Church's early day
It was the Christian's strength and stay.
Then "Maranatha" was a word
That touched in every heart a chord;
It wove a garland for the tomb,
And shed a glory o'er its gloom.

Her helmet buried 'neath a heap
Of man's traditions, she asleep,
Unmindful of the Bridegroom's voice,
Earth's patronage her boast and choice—
What wonder that the Church's light
So faint illumed surrounding night?

But in those latter days a band,
Whose hearts were touched by God's own hand,
Together drawn by cords of love,
With one accord sought from above
Light that would make them wise to know
God's mind, and prayed that He would show
To them His ways, that they might seek
The path divine with spirit meek.

Prayer, by the Holy Ghost inspired,
Ne'er fails to bring the grace desired;
Hence when they read the holy page,
Or in like converse did engage,
The Holy Spirit ope'd their eyes
And wondrous things they with surprise
Saw in God's law; but with dismay
Beheld how very far away
From the old paths the sheep had strayed.
And pondering o'er those things they prayed
That God would lead their footsteps back
To tread the old though long-lost track;
That He would lead them by the hand,
Though but a feeble little band.

Their eyes thus opened, to the light
Revealed to their astonished sight
That England's church, to most still dear,
To Rome had turned a listening ear.
Nay more, her foremost trusted men
Were diligently, by their pen,
Engaged in scattering evil seeds
Of error's most obnoxious weeds.
The "Tracts" from Oxford issued then
Stirred deeply those devoted men,
To test all that they heard or saw
By the true standard of God's law.

They quickly learned God never meant
To work through but one instrument—
One only channel of His grace,
In an assembly or a place.
They read of various gifts bestowed,
Each to be exercised for God.
As in our wondrous human frame
Are parts of different use and name.
One body many members owns,
Some are the bands that bind the bones
Together, some are active seen,
Some passive, yet no jar between
The members of the human frame 
Takes place; they own one common name—
Are guided only by one head,
And by one living spirit led.
So in Christ's body—He alone
Is the great Head, nor may we own
In right another; none but He
Who bore the curse to set us free
May claim our "Reverential" awe.
His precious Word our golden law;
This chart in hand, where is the need
Of binding article or creed?

The truth received thus set them free
To worship God in liberty.
It broke the chains which long had bound
Them to the Babel scenes around.
Forth from the guilty camp they went,
Though tears were shed and hearts were rent,
Old ties were sundered, friendships lost;
But pausing not to count the cost,
Attracted by one image fair,
Nor fearing His reproach to bear,
To Jesus and His Word they turned,
With fervent love their spirits burned.

Led by an ungrieved spirit they
Made haste Christ's precepts to obey;
Despising for His sake the shame,
They were immersed in Jesus' Name:
A sign that showed to all around
How firm, how stable was the ground
Where faith had dropped her anchor sure,
A rock that would for aye endure.
One with the Lord in death and life,
Made more than conquerors in the strife,
No need to fear though hell enrage
Should every earthly power engage
'Gainst them, for He whom thus they owned
Above all angels is enthroned,
"All power into His hand" is given
O'er things on earth and things in Heaven.

Taught still by God they soon were led
In fellowship to break the bread,
And drink the symbol cup, while love
Her banner waved their heads above.
Each "first day of the week" they saw
Was indicated in that law,
Which binds all loyal hearts and true,
What they find written straight to do.
First do, then teach, such was His way,
Who as the Son of Man could say
He always did His Father's will,
Was careful ever to fulfil
His holy Word, till all was done,
And life by His obedience won
For sinners by transgression lost,
But ransomed at such awful cost.

Close knit together heart and hand,
Though but a small and feeble band,
With "little strength" they "kept the Word"
Of Jesus their exalted Lord.
Sectarian names on every side,
All minist'ring to human pride,
Whate'er their origin of shame,
Deny that high and holy NAME
Enshrined in every Christian's heart.
Though many in that wrong take part,
And think it matters nothing where
They worship, or what name they bear,
So long as all is right within
And they saved from the doom of sin.
From such dishonour to their Lord
That company with one accord
Withdrew, and turned their willing feet
To follow Him whose NAME was sweet
To them as precious ointment poured:
Thus owned they Him as Christ and Lord.

While searching, as for hidden gold,
For truth which God might yet unfold,
The long-lost helmet met their sight—
They gazed upon it with delight.
"That blessed hope," that Christ will come
Himself to take His people home,
The dead to raise, the living change,
Burst forth with lustre new and strange:
It filled each heart with holy joy
And peace, which nothing could destroy.
The harp of Sion, freshly strung,
Quick caught the strain, new songs were sung;
This the glad theme, the sweet refrain,
That Jesus will return to reign!
O'er town and hamlet, mountain high,
Went forth the solemn midnight cry,
"Behold He comes," in glory bright,
To scatter every shade of night—
The message far and wide did ring,
"Prepare, O earth, to meet thy King!"

'Twas like a fresh espousal day:
The Bridegroom's accents, "Come away,"
Had fallen on their raptured ear,
And banished every faithless fear.
The barren wilderness with Him
Fair as a paradise did seem;
Earth's gold and honours but as loss
Beside the glory of His Cross.
Their hearts with Gospel ardour glowed,
God's love they preached with power, and showed
How He in righteousness could meet
The vilest one who at His feet
Lies down in conscious helplessness,
And from His hand of sovereign grace
Receives that gift so freely given—
The robe that fits the soul for Heaven.

Some of them crossed the surging sea,
And He who holdeth "David's key,"
Their service owning went before.
Unlocking many a foreign door
Fast shut for centuries gone past,
But opened by His power at last,
That gospel light with cheering ray
Might usher in a brighter day;
That all the nations round might hear
The glad good news ere yet the year
Accepted of the Lord should close
In judgment and unthought-of woes.

Rome's priests tried hard, but all in vain,
Those opened doors to shut again;
For back that key they could not turn,
Though with wild rage their hearts might burn.
And so the "old, old story" flew
Through lands where it indeed was new,
Till e'en in Rome's most public street
Stood messengers of beauteous feet,
Proclaiming freely, without fear,
The grace that brings lost sinners near;
The faith that justifies the soul,
The wounds which make the sin-sick whole.

Those precious Philadelphian ways
Receive the Master's highest praise:
No word of censure from Him falls,
Only to constancy He calls—
"Hold fast that none may take thy crown,
For great the glory and renown
Awaiting the o'ercomer who
To Me and to My Word stands true.
Thy works I've seen, and opened wide
Doors for the truth on every side,
Though but a little strength is thine
My holy Name and words divine
Have been thy care; and though oft tried
Have never been by thee denied.
Those ritualistic would-be Jews,
Whose deadly ways thou didst refuse,
Shall by and by form Satan's shrine
Yet shall they own that ye are Mine;
And humbled low, on bended knee,
My special love to you shall see.
My word of patience thou has kept,
Watching for Me whilst others slept;
So will I keep thee from that hour
Of darkness and Satanic power
Which over all the earth shall be—
A night of untold misery.
As on the earth a pillar true,
My truth found resting-place with you,
So in the heavenly temple fair,
High place of honour thou shalt share.

A pillar shalt thou be secure,
Which shall for evermore endure:
No sin can ever enter there,
Nor subtle error taint the air.
From thence ye shall go out no more,
Tears have no place on that bright shore.
As to My Name ye fast did cleave,
So shall ye from My hand receive
A fair inscription that shall be
A praise for all eternity;
Triunely shall it intertwine
My Father's holy Name and Mine,
Together with that city's where
My glory and My throne thou'lt share."

Where is the opened heart and ear
Receptively His Word to hear?
'Mid Babylon's confusing noise
Who listens for the Master's voice?
When He appears may such be found
Apart on Philadelphian ground.
 
VII. LAODICEA ("Justice for the People")
THIS vision vividly portrays
Things as they are in these last days.
The form of godliness, indeed,
Abounds with many a varied creed,
And buildings vast with spires that rise
As if to pierce the vaulted skies.

Philanthropy of every kind
There is to suit each varied mind
Of this or that class—great designs
In which with good the bad combines.

Religion, gorgeously attired,
Parades herself to be admired 
Not “pure religion, undefiled,"
Which feeds and clothes the orphan child;
But that false thing whose gaudy glare
Attracts the simple everywhere.
It soothes the conscience, drowns the thoughts;
In music's soul-bewitching notes.
Professing much to worship God,
Yet trampling on the Saviour's blood;
Esteeming it a thing unclean,
Too shocking—so some say—and mean
For cultured ears; so with disdain
They turn from Him for sinners slain.
By far too learned and too great
To credit that God did create
Man in His image, nobly fair,
His Sovereign attribute to share;
Too proud to take the story in
Of ruin wrought by Adam's sin.

Rejecting thus God's record true
In search of something strange and new;
Guided by fancy's quagmire light
Gleaming through unbelief's dark night;
What wonder men are left alone
In their own way to stumble on,
Until in abject blindness they
Believe that in some far-back day
Our ancestor was but an ape,
Who gradually improved in shape,
Until in progress, slow but sure,
He proudly saw himself mature
Into a full-sized perfect man—
Then human enterprise began!

To demon voices some give heed,
Though their dark whispers surely lead
Seductively, by speeches fair,
Down to the regions of despair.
Delusions from this source received,
By tens of thousands are believed:
Are preached by men advanced of mind
Who leave "old-fashioned thoughts" behind.
They do not hesitate to say
That hell has no existence! Nay,
Speak of God's Word as "fabled lore,"
By such broad minds as theirs no more,
As inspiration from above,
To be received with cordial love.

Would that all those so blindly led
Could see with loathing and with dread
Who are their teachers! and would flee
In haste from such iniquity
To Him who is alone the Light,
Who giveth eye-salve for the sight;
In whom there is a full supply
For all who will in faith apply.

Democracy, with lawless force,
Sweeps every barrier from its course;
With gathering power its rising tide
Is swelling high on every side.
Servants are masters, and expect
All things to be as they direct.
Masters, full oft, with servile mien,
Subservient to their men are seen.
E'en children in rebellion rise,
Parental rule dare to despise;
While ties of kindred scarcely seem
To wake responsive love. The stream
Of pleasure rolls with turbid tide,
And thousands think of nought beside:
Of God's great love they only hear
Derisively, with scornful sneer!

The people now rule o'er the land,
They govern all and give command;
The sovereign sits upon the throne
The people's laws to guard and own.
The people's voice they love to say
Is as His voice who holds in sway
The boundless universe—whose hand
Rules the wide ocean, sets the sand
A boundary line; thus far the flow,
No further may its waters go.

Such pride and blasphemy combined
A fitting answer yet shall find;
Though all their powers in one unite,
He shall be bruised by Jesus' might—
Shall at His presence pass away
When comes the long-predicted Day.
Earth then shall like a drunkard reel, 
That shock e'en to her centre feel.

The spirit of this present age
Defiles, alas, God's heritage;
Because iniquity prevails,
And Satan's lie the truth assails:
Because unrighteousness is bold
The love of many waxes cold.
Some hold that we must trim our ways
To suit the times, and that the days
In which we live more scope demand,
If we attention would command.
And so the people's ear to gain,
And popularity attain,
God's counsel they agree to shun,
Declining in His ways to run.

Elsewhere democracy and pride
Tend to estrange and subdivide
Those in life's bundle closely tied,
And by one Spirit sanctified.
For lawlessness too often takes
The place of liberty—and makes
God's house, where holiness should be,
A scene of strife and anarchy.

Though all have heard the midnight cry,
"Behold the Bridegroom draweth nigh,"
Yet many slumber, fast asleep,
Failing a faithful watch to keep.
The virgin's lamps but faintly burn,
For thoughts of Jesus' swift return
Move not their hearts as when at first
That long-lost hope upon them burst.

No word of commendation here
Falls on the watchful listener's ear:
The faithful Witness—holy, true—
Speaks plainly, "From My mouth I'll spue
Thee, for thy luke-warm ways I hate;
Repent ere yet it be too late,
My counsel take, and buy of Me
Gold that for all eternity
Its owners shall enrich; for thou
Art poor and miserable, I trow,
Though rich thou deem'st thyself, and great,
Supported by earth's wealth and state;
Salve for thy blindness, clothing too,
To cover thy deep shame from view.
A Stranger I outside thy door
Now knock as I have knocked before;
If any one may hear My voice
And open—o'er such I'll rejoice,
Will sup with such, and they with Me,
And sweet our fellowship shall be.
Who in these people-pleasing days
Shall overcome and keep My ways,
Upon My throne his place shall be
To share My royal majesty.
As I on earth once overcame,
Refused its honour, bore its shame,
Now at My God's right hand of love
Enthroned I sit, all thrones above."

Assembly—testimony, all
May crumbling into ruins fall,
Iniquity yet more abound,
Yet faithful ones will still be found
Who fear the Lord, and often speak
Together of His love, and seek
Each other's drooping hearts to cheer
With thoughts of Him whose Day draws near.
A very special treasure they
Will be to Jesus in that day;
Of such He says, "They shall be Mine,
Bright jewels in My crown to shine."

'Tis evening now, the waning light
Will soon be quenched in darkest night;
The time for Gospel service past,
All testimony hushed at last.
But lo! in splendour, from afar,
Behold He comes, "the Morning Star,"
To call His blood-bought saints away
To realms of everlasting day.

Farewell, then, deepening shades of gloom;
Each vacant chair, each empty tomb,
Shall to the unbeliever say,
"The ransomed ones are caught away."
For in one twinkling all will rise
Who "with the Lord, by sacrifice,
A holy covenant have made"
Through Christ, who has the ransom paid.
The Alpha of our faith is He,
Of Godliness the Mystery;
He shall appear in glory then
The Mighty God—the great Amen. 
A. W. P. S.
“The Witness” 1891