Let none this humble work assail,Its failings to expose to view,Which sprung within Misfortune’s valeAnd ‘neath the dews of Sorrow grew. Thus does Annie Rebekah Smith, the early Adventist hymnist, beg indulgent tolerance of the little book of poems she completed on her deathbed in 1855. Her wishes will be honored here in favor of…
Tag: annie smith
Text 1Long upon the mountains weary,Have the scattered flocks been torn;Dark the dessert paths, and dreary;Grievous trials have they borne.Now the gathering call is sounding,Solemn in its warning voice;Union, faith, and love, abounding,Bid the little flock rejoice. 2Now the light of truth they’re seeking,In its onward track pursue;All the ten commandments keeping,They are holy, just,…
Text 1I saw one weary, sad, and torn,With eager steps press on the way,Who long the hallowed cross had born,Still looking for the promised day;While many a line of grief and care,Upon his brow was furrowed there;I asked what buoyed his spirits up,“O this,” said he– “the blessed hope.” 2And one I saw, with sword…
Text 1How far from home? I asked, as onI bent my steps-the watchman spake:“the long, dark night is almost gone,The morning soon will break.Then weep no more, but speed thy flight,With Hope’s bright star guiding ray,Till thou shalt reach the realms of light,In everlasting days.” 2I asked the warrior on the field;This was his soul-inspiring…