In a poem entitled, "Declining Days," he thus discloses the secrct of his pure, sympathetic heart: "Might verse of mine inspire One virtuous aim, one high resolve impart;` Or bind one broken heart, "Death would be sweeter then, More calm my slumber 'neath the silent sod; Or glorify my God." In the same poem he makes the following prayer, which was most remarkably answered: "Oh thou, whose touch can lend Life to the dead, thy quickening grace supply; It was the autumn of 1847; the gloom of winter was already settling upon the coast, and the pomps of decay tinging the leaves. The pastor, who was now preparing to leave the parish, and who seemed like one already hovering over the verge of the grave, determined to speak to his dear people once more, perhaps for the last time. He dragged his attenuated form into the pulpit, and delivered his parting discourse, while the great tears rolled down the hardy faces of the worshippers. then administered the Lord's Supper to his spiritual children. Tired and exhausted, but with his heart still swelling with emotion, he went home. The old poetic inspiration came over him, and he wrote the words and music of his last song. He had prayed that his last breath might be spent "swan-like," He "In songs that may not die." and this effort was to prove a literal answer to his prayer The poem composed under these interesting circumstances was the following well-known hymn-chant: ABIDE with me: fast falls the eventide. The darkness deepens; Lord, with me abide: Swift to its close ebbs out life's little day; O Thou who changest not, abide with me. I need thy presence every passing hour; I fear no foe, with thee at hand to bless : Hold Thou thy cross before my closing eyes; Shine through the gloom, and point me to the skies ; He went to Nice. There at the foot of the Maritime Alps, in the climate of perpetual summer, with the mountain torrents singing around him, and the splendid Mediterranean before him, he passed the last days of his life. His death was that of a happy Christian poet. Like George Herbert and Charles Wesley, he sang while his strength lasted, and then quietly waited, till "rising from the sleep of death, he should join the hallelujahs of heaven." JOHN H. NEWMAN. In the year 1833, an English Episcopal clergyman Rev. John Henry Newman, was sailing over the Mediterranean, when suffering from the effects of a recent and an alarming illness. His religious feelings were agitated by the dissensions in the church at home, and an inward spiritual conflict was working a change in his views, until, with perils at sea, sickness, doubt, and perplexity, he was made to feel that faith has but one reliance. In this state of mind, with a sky of Italian splendors and dangers above him, and the sea rocking the ship beneath, he composed one of the sweetest and most trustful of mod. ern hymns: LEAD, Kindly Light, amid the encircling gloom, Lead Thou me on; The night is dark, and I am far from home, Keep Thou my feet; I do not ask to see I was not ever thus, nor prayed that Thou I loved to choose and see my path; but now I loved the garish day, and, spite of fears, So long thy power hath blest me, sure it still O'er moor and fen, o'er crag and torrent, till And with the morn those angel faces smile Which I have loved long since, and lost awhile. |