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HIS WONDROUS WORKS

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Pacific Press Publishing Company · Mountain View, California · Oct 12, 1904

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 30, No. 40.

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HIS WONDROUS WORKS.

By Archer Wright

BY ARCHER WRIGHT.
When day's last embers smoulder in the west, And twilight shadows deepen into night, When evening breezes hush and fall asleep, And the pure stars are left alone to watch O'er slumbering nature,—'tis a time to gaze On those far-flaming brother worlds of ours, And feel the eternal power of Him who holds The mighty forces of the universe In His control. This is a time to think The thoughts of Him whose thoughts are high as heaven.
Look out across the infinite expanse, And let the harmony of sinless spheres Touch thy mute soul's deaf ear with life, and let Their perfect rhythm time thy pulse's beat Till thy life echoes unison with God's. Once every life was thus in tune with Him; That harmony was marred, and human souls, Racked with discord of a fallen world, Oft fail to hear, above earth's Babel sounds, The sympathy, and power, and praise, that make The matchless music of the heavenly host.
O God, how great Thou art! The height, the depth Of Thy broad wisdom is unsearchable! Thou callest worlds from nothing with a word; Thou thinkest on earth's lowliest living thing; Thy voice shakes heaven, yet it gives response To the unuttered longing of a soul!
How often do we lose these lofty thoughts; And, wandering through the world's great wilderness, We move on, scarcely conscious of the cloud That guides us, and protects us, till at length A voice like Sinai's thunder greets our ears, And we awake to our ingratitude. Thus startled, we, like Israel's host of old, Too oft attempt, by means impossible, Obedience to a code, whose inward depth Our carnal minds, self-clouded, fail to see. When, all disheartened by our failure, we Lie suppliant at His feet, God shifts the view. Through blinding tears we see Gethsemane, Moonlit—a kneeling form—a blood-stained brow— The world's Creator fainting neath the cross. Then Calvary melts our cold, sin-hardened hearts, Till, by the alchemy of heavenly love, A golden promise each command becomes. That hallowed cross! How darkened ways grow bright, And petty trials vanish, as we gaze On that meek visage 'neath the crown of thorns, And know 'tis with His stripes that we are healed. O precious truth, O mystery divine! Love unexplained, incomprehensible! The Prince of Life lays heaven's glory down, Leaves the angelic throng, the realms of bliss, And myriads of sinless, song-swept worlds, To drink the cup of wrath earth's rebels earned! To offer them instead His spotless life! The Shepherd leaves the flock to seek the lost. Tho but one speck amid unnumbered spheres, And He, the Shepherd, knows too well how few Will take the gift His precious blood has bought, He, willing, bears the load of shame and pain That we deserve, to rescue you and me.
And now, in human flesh before the throne, He stands and pleads for sinners—lifts the hands Once pierced in token of His sacrifice For others' guilt.
And still the world sweeps on, Groaning and trav'ling 'neath its weight of woe, While wicked men blaspheme, and spurn the grace Of Heaven, and brother curseth brother. God And all the heavenly universe look on In wondering pity at the spectacle Of human blindness and ingratitude. Not long will He in silence bear the sight: Earth's cup of wrath is all but brimming o'er. Quickly the scene will change, and He who pleads Shall take His scepter, and begin His reign. But woe unto the kingdoms of this world When on the cloud appears her rightful King. Dispersed like chaff before the whirlwind's blast, No place is found for them who've found no place For Christ within. May we the lesson learn, And in our hearts accept the Saviour's rule Of righteousness and peace, that, when He comes, We may say boldly, “Lo, this is our God.”
Yet when old earth in desolation lies, Keeping her Sabbath day so long delayed, The spheres their broken anthem still shall chant Till death shall silence each discordant voice, And every living creature shall ascribe All “blessing, . . . honor, . . . glory, . . . power . . . to Him That sitteth on the throne, and to the Lamb.” The stars of God shall still their luster keep Till this lost world, redeemed and purified, Shall sing as in her youth, and man's abode, So long the battle ground 'twixt love and hate, Restored to Eden's purity, shall shine, The costliest gem in her Creator's crown.