Religion in Earnest: A Memorial of Mrs. Mary Lyth, of YorkLyth, J. (John)
Religion
Religion in Earnest: A Memorial of Mrs. Mary Lyth, of York
Lyth, J. (John)
Lyth, Mary, 1782-1860
twenty-one years' absence; and his, and his family's kindness. Bless
the Lord, O my soul.--Felt impressed to go and visit Mrs. M--, whom I
visited once last year; went, and had a happy interview.
Hallow'd is the hour of prayer,
When the Spirit helps me there;
When the soul is drawn above,
Borne on wings of faith and love;
Then, released from earth, I rise
Far beyond the starry skies;
See, in Christ's atonement free,
Life for all mankind, and me.
"Mrs. C. called, and kindly took me to Class. I gave out the hymn my
Eliza sang the day before she died, and prayed with them.--I have been
led by the Spirit of God to my knees, and find it no vain thing to
wait upon the Lord. I am urged to look after my petitions, and feel it
good to be thus reminded.--Mrs. Hartley called to bid me good-bye. I
felt it very good while we prayed together. On her return to the city
she was taken very ill, and sent a request by my daughter, that I
would pray for her. I will. Felt blest in doing so.--My two sons are
going to widely distant localities, but in their Master's field. Oh!
how my heart longs that they may be richly endued with power from on
high, and made abundantly useful among those with whom they mingle,
and that many may be the saved of the Lord. John Arthur and David are
also, this day, going on the Lord's errand. O bless the lads!
Make them wise to win souls to Jesus. My soul longs for their
prosperity.--Nine of my dear grandchildren took tea with us. For these
and all the rest my soul earnestly longs, that we may be an undivided
family above. I was blest while praying with them.--My dear son John
and his wife, with five children, left us on their way to Germany,
hoping to reach London this evening. O Lord, prosper Thou his journey
to yonder land! I feel deeply for him. O bless him, Lord!"
Oh! what a world of care,
Anxiety and grief!
How multiplied our sorrows are!
Where shall we find relief?
Our lov'd ones come, and glad we are
To see their smiling face;
But brief these transient visits are,
And _then_, the last embrace.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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