Home, kindred, friends, and country, these
Are things with which we never part;
From clime to clime, o'er land and seas,
We bear them with us in our heart:
And yet 'tis hard to feel resign'd,
When these, all these, are left behind.
But when the pilgrim's staff we take,
And follow Christ from shore to shore,
Gladly for Him we all forsake,
Press on, and only look before:
Though humbled Nature mourns her loss,
The spirit glories in the Cross.
It is no sin, like man, to weep,
Even Jesus wept o'er Lazarus, dead;
Or yearn for home beyond the deep,
He had not where to lay His head:
The patriot's tears will He condemn,
Who wept o'er lost Jerusalem?
Take up your cross, and say "Farewell!"
Go forth without the camp to Him,
Who left heaven's throne with men to dwell,
Who died His murderers to redeem:
Oh! tell His name in every ear;
Doubt not,--the dead themselves will hear;
Hear, and come forth to life anew.
Then, while the Gentile courts they fill,
Shall not your Saviour's words stand true?
Home, kindred, friends, and country still,
In earth's last desert you shall find,
Yet lose not those you left behind.
Montgomery, James, son of John Montgomery, a Moravian minister, was born at Irvine, Ayrshire, Nov. 4, 1771. In 1776 he removed with his parents to the Moravian Settlement at Gracehill, near Ballymena, county of Antrim. Two years after he was sent to the Fulneck Seminary, Yorkshire. He left Fulneck in 1787, and entered a retail shop at Mirfield, near Wakefield. Soon tiring of that he entered upon a similar situation at Wath, near Rotherham, only to find it quite as unsuitable to his taste as the former. A journey to London, with the hope of finding a publisher for his youthful poems ended in failure; and in 1792 he was glad to leave Wath for Shefield to join Mr. Gales, an auctioneer, bookseller, and printer of the Sheffield Register newspap… Go to person page >