(From the Gospel Standard, [England])

Life has its morning, young and bright;
Its joyous noon; its solemn night.
Its risen son soon spans the day;
Soon rush its swift-winged hours away.

Life is a journey; rising still,
We midway reach its loftiest hill;
We scan the past; then strive to explore
The shadowy vale which lies before.

The height is pass’d; and sinking low,
My sun has lost its noontide glow;
Adown the steep I slowly wind,
And leave earth’s scatter’d hopes behind.

Sometimes a lingering look I cast
On scenes far shrouded in the past;
So faint, their misty outlines seem
The fragments of a troubled dream.

Full many a scheme of bliss untold,
In ruined heaps, those scenes unfold;
And forms once loved – once brightly fair,
Like mocking specters hover there.

Each joy, each pleasure was a cheat;
A bitter draught each promised sweet;
No specious good I dared to taste,
but left its poison in my breast.

In folly’s tangled mazes lost,
I counted not the fearful cost,
But hurried with the crowd along,
And sought destruction with the throng.

O, wondrous mercy! matchless grace!
An eye unseen beheld my case,
Saw me cast out, and in my blood;
Pitied, and forth my helper stood.

Defiled, and self condemn’d I lay;
Hell claim’d me as its lawful prey;
But mercy snatch’d me from the pit,
Cleansed, clothed, and paid my dreadful debt;

Call’d me to leave the way of death,
And pointed out the narrow path,
Bless’d with his smile, kept by his grace,
Fenced with his love, and paved with peace.

Since then he prompts me what to do;
Gives bread to eat, and strength to go;
Tells me he’ll always be my friend,
And keep me to my journey’s end.

Now, all this love and tender care,
Which all his blood-bought children share,
Is sovereign, special, rich, and free;
I sought it not till he sought me.

He told me at my love’s first dawn,
Why I with love had thus been drawn;
“An everlasting love,” said he,
“Is that with which I’ve loved thee.”

And though I oft would wander wide,
And leave my Friend’s protecting side;
He will not let me quite depart,
So kind and faithful is his heart.

I often fear I’ve missed the way;
So prone my treacherous heart to stray;
So cold, so dead, I often try
To prove my hope is but a lie.

So dismal, dark, the way appears;
So think the hosts of doubts and fears;
The springs all dray, the manna gone;
I languish helpless and forlorn.

But then my faithful Friend draws nigh!
Gives grace on grace, a rich supply;
Shews me the way the flock have gone;
And leads my fainting footsteps on.

And there he whispers words of love,
And bids me lift my thoughts above;
Points to the eternal bills that stand
Far distant in the promised land.

At once the scene a change comes o’er;
(Man never spake like him before!)
His voice bids doubt and darkness flee;
Gives life, and joy, and liberty.

Thus on I plod from day to day,
Guided through life’s mysterious way;
Assured that he who holds me fast
Will conquer all my loss at last.

Author: W. S. R.

Signs of the Times
Volume 28, Number 10; May 15, 1860

Below are the songs that were made from the poem using AI. They are identified
by the genre of the music in paranthesis.