Luke viii. 22-25.
Behind the hills of Naphtali
The sun went slowly down,
Leaving on mountain, tower, and tree,
A tinge of golden brown.
The cooling breath of evening woke
The waves of Galilee,
Till on the shore the waters broke
In softest melody.
"Now launch the bark," the Saviour cried,
The chosen twelve stood by,
"And let us cross to yonder side,
Where the hills are steep and high."
Gently the bark o'er the water creeps,
While the swelling sail they spread,
And the wearied Saviour gently sleeps
With a pillow 'neath His head.
On downy bed the world seeks rest -
Sleep flies the guilty eye -
But he who leans on the Father's breast
May sleep when storms are nigh.
But soon the lowering sky grew dark
O'er Bashan's rocky brow -
The storm rushed down upon the bark,
And waves dashed o'er the prow.
The pale disciples trembling spake,
While yawned the watery grave,
"We perish, Master - Master, wake -
Carest Thou not to save?"
Calmly He rose with sovereign will,
And hushed the storm to rest.
"Ye waves," He whispered, "Peace! be still!"
They calmed like a pardoned breast.
So have I seen a fearful storm
O'er wakened sinner roll,
Till Jesus' voice and Jesus' form
Said, "Peace, thou weary soul."
And now He bends His gentle eye
His wondering followers o'er,
"Why raise this unbelieving cry?"
I said, "To yonder shore."
When first the Saviour wakened me,
And showed me why He died,
He pointed o'er life's narrow sea,
And said, "To yonder Side."
"I am the ark where Noah dwelt,
And heard the deluge roar -
No soul can perish that has felt
My rest - To yonder shore."
Peaceful and calm the tide of life
When first I sailed with Thee -
My sins forgiven - no inward strife -
My breast a glassy sea.
But soon the storm of passion raves -
My soul is tempest tossed -
Corruptions rise, like angry waves,
"Help, Master, I am lost!"
"Peace! peace! be still thou raging breast,
My fulness is for thee" -
The Saviour speaks, and all is rest,
Like the waves of Galilee.
And now I feel His holy eye
Upbraids my heart of pride -
"Why raise this unbelieving cry?
I said, To yonder side."
Begun at the Lake of Galilee, 15th July 1839.
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Robert Murray M'Cheyne (1813 - 1843)
Scottish divine, youngest son of Adam McCheyne, writer to the signet, was born in Edinburgh, 21 May 1813. At the age of four he knew the characters of the Greek alphabet, and was able to sing and recite fluently. He entered the high school in his eighth year, and matriculated in November 1827 at Edinburgh University, where he showed very versatile powers, and distinguished himself especially in poetical exercises, being awarded a special prize by Professor Wilson for a poem on 'The Covenanters.' In the winter of 1831 he commenced his studies in the Divinity Hall, under Dr. Chalmers and Dr. Welsh; and he was licensed as a preacher by the Annan presbytery on 1 July 1835.McCheyne devoted all his energies to preaching; and although he was an accomplished Hebrew scholar, he left few permanent proofs of his erudition. He had refined musical taste, and was one of the first of the Scottish ministers to take an active part in the improvement of the congregational service of praise. Long after his death he was constantly referred to as 'the saintly McCheyne.'