And through the dark, its echoes sweetly ringing, The music of the gospel leads us home.

Angels of Jesus.

Far, far away, like bells at evening pealing, The voice of Jesus sounds o'er land and sea, And laden souls, by thousands meekly stealing, Kind Shepherd, turn their weary steps to Thee.

Angels of Jesus.

_THE TUNES._

John B. d.y.k.es and Henry Smart--both masters of hymn-tune construction--have set this hymn to music. "Vox Angelica" in B flat, the work of the former, is a n.o.ble composition for choir or congregation, but "Pilgrim," the other's interpretation, though not dissimilar in movement and vocal range, has, perhaps, the more sympathetic melody. It is, at least, the favorite in many localities. Some books print the two on adjacent pages as optionals.

Another much-loved hymn of Faber's is--

O Paradise, O Paradise!

Who doth not crave for rest?

Who would not see the happy land Where they that loved are blest?

REFRAIN Where loyal hearts and true Stand ever in the light, All rapture through and through In G.o.d's most holy sight.

O Paradise, O Paradise, The world is growing old; Who would not be at rest and free Where love is never cold.

Where loyal hearts and true.

O Paradise, O Paradise, I greatly long to see The special place my dearest Lord, In love prepares for me.

Where loyal hearts and true.

This aspiration, from the ardent soul of the poet has been interpreted in song by the same two musicians, and by Joseph Barnby--all with the t.i.tle "Paradise." Their similarity of style and near equality of merit have compelled compilers to print at least two of them side by side for the singers' choice. A certain pathos in the strains of Barnby's composition gives it a peculiar charm to many, and in America it is probably the oftenest sung to the words.

Dr. David Breed, speaking of Faber's "unusual" imagination, says, "He got more out of language than any other poet of the English tongue, and used words--even simple words--so that they rendered him a service which no other poet ever secured from them." The above hymns are characteristic to a degree, but the telling simplicity of his style--almost quaint at times--is more marked in "There's a Wideness in G.o.d's Mercy," given on p. 234.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Horatius Bonar, D.D.]

"BEYOND THE SMILING AND THE WEEPING."

This song of hope--one of the most strangely tuneful and rune-like of Dr. Bonar's hymn-poems--is less frequently sung owing to the peculiarity of its stanza form. But it scarcely needs a staff of notes--

Beyond the smiling and the weeping I shall be soon; Beyond the waking and the sleeping, Beyond the sowing and the reaping I shall be soon.

REFRAIN Love, rest and home!

Sweet hope!

Lord, tarry not, but come.

Beyond the parting and the meeting I shall be soon; Beyond the farewell and the greeting, Beyond the pulses' fever-beating I shall be soon.

Love, rest and home!

Beyond the frost-chain and the fever I shall be soon; Beyond the rock-waste and the river Beyond the ever and the never I shall be soon.

Love, rest and home!

The wild contrasts and reverses of earthly vicissitude are spoken and felt here in the sequence of words. Perpetual black-and-white through time; then the settled life and untreacherous peace of eternity.

Everywhere in the song the note of heavenly hope interrupts the wail of disappointment, and the chorus returns to transport the soul from the land of emotional whirlwinds to unbroken rest.

_THE TUNES._

Mr. Bradbury wrote an admirable tune to this hymn, though the one since composed by Mr. Stebbins has in some localities superseded it in popular favor. Skill in following the accent and unequal rhythms produces a melodious tone-poem, and completes the impression of Bonar's singular but sweet lyric of hope which suggests a chant-choral rather than a regular polyphonic harmony. W.A. Tarb.u.t.ton and the young composer, Karl Harrington, have set the hymn to music, but the success of their work awaits the public test.

"WE SHALL MEET BEYOND THE RIVER."

The words were written by Rev. John Atkinson, D.D., in January, 1867, soon after the death of his mother. He had been engaged in revival work and one night in his study, "that song, in substance, seemed," he says, "to sing itself into my heart." He said to himself, "I would better write it down, or I shall lose it."

"There," he adds, "in the silence of my study, and not far from midnight, I wrote the hymn."

We shall meet beyond the river By and by, by and by; And the darkness will be over By and by, by and by.

With the toilsome journey done, And the glorious battle won.

We shall shine forth as the sun By and by, by and by.

The Rev. John Atkinson was born in Deerfield, N.J. Sept. 6, 1835. A clergyman of the Methodist denomination, he is well-known as one of its writers. The _Centennial History of American Methodism_ is his work, and besides the above hymn, he has written and published _The Garden of Sorrows_, and _The Living Way_. He died Dec. 8, 1897.

The tune to "We Shall Meet," by Hubert P. Main, composed in 1867, exactly translates the emotional hymn into music. S.J. Vail also wrote music to the words. The hymn, originally six eight-line stanzas, was condensed at his request to its present length and form by f.a.n.n.y Crosby.

"ONE SWEETLY SOLEMN THOUGHT."

Phebe Cary, the author of this happy poem, was the younger of the two Cary sisters, Alice and Phebe, names pleasantly remembered in American literature. The praise of one reflects the praise of the other when we are told that Phebe possessed a loving and trustful soul, and her life was an honor to true womanhood and a blessing to the poor. She had to struggle with hardship and poverty in her early years: "I have cried in the street because I was poor," she said in her prosperous years, "and the poor always seem nearer to me than the rich."

When reputation came to her as a writer, she removed from her little country home near Cincinnati, O., where she was born, in 1824, and settled in New York City with her sister. She died at Newport, N.Y., July 31, 1871, and her hymn was sung at her funeral. Her remains rest in Greenwood Cemetery.

"One Sweetly Solemn Thought," was written in 1852, during a visit to one of her friends. She wrote (to her friend's inquiry) years afterwards that it first saw the light "in your own house ... in the little back third-story bedroom, one Sunday after coming from church." It was a heart experience noted down without literary care or artistic effort, and in its original form was in too irregular measure to be sung. She set little value upon it as a poem, but when shown hesitatingly to inquiring compilers, its intrinsic worth was seen, and various revisions of it were made. The following is one of the best versions--stanzas one, two and three:--

One sweetly solemn thought Comes to me o'er and o'er, I am nearer home to-day, Than I ever have been before.

Nearer my Father's house, Where the many mansions be, Nearer the great white throne, Nearer the crystal sea.

Nearer the bound of life, Where we lay our burdens down, Nearer leaving the cross Nearer gaining the crown.

_THE TUNE._

The old revival tune of "Dunbar," with its chorus, "There'll be no more sorrow there," has been sung to the hymn, but the tone-lyric of Philip Phillips, "Nearer Home," has made the words its own, and the public are more familiar with it than with any other. It was this air that a young man in a drinking house in Macao, near Hong-Kong, began humming thoughtlessly while his companion was shuffling the cards for a new game. Both were Americans, the man with the cards more than twenty years the elder. Noticing the tune, he threw down the pack. Every word of the hymn had come back to him with the echo of the music.

"Harry, where did you learn that hymn?"

"What hymn?"