Diary of Private Lewis C. Paxson: Saturday, October 11, 1862

I worked in Second Lieutenant Christ Berker's room by his permission. I commenced a letter to Howard Bell. We sang hymns in the evening.

SOURCE: Lewis C. Paxson, Diary of Lewis C. Paxson: Stockton, N.J., 1862-1865, p. 6

Marcus Spring to John Brown, November 28, 1859

Eagleswood, Nov. 28, 1859.

To John Brown.

My Dear and Venerated Sir: Ever since my dear wife and son's visit of sympathy to you, and your excellent wife's short sojourn with us, I have felt a strong desire to write to you some words of cheering and strengthening sympathy. But I could say nothing, of this kind, that is not better said in the two hymns I here send you, which have been blessings to me, and many others, in times of trial.

With the most earnest wish and prayer that God may be with you to the last, and that in surrendering your life as an offering in behalf of the oppressed, you may also be enabled to feel, towards all who have misunderstood you, "Father forgive them, for they know not what they do," and "incline the hearts of this people to do justly, love mercy, and walk humbly before God," as the only course of true safety, and solid national prosperity and peace,

I remain, sincerely your friend,

Marcus Spring.

_______________

 

 “COURAGE AND HOPE.”

Awake, our souls; away our fears;
    Let every trembling thought be gone;
Awake, and run the heavenly race,
    And put a cheerful courage on.

True 'tis a strait and thorny road,
    And mortal spirits tire and faint;
But they forget the mighty God,
    Who feeds the strength of every saint;

The mighty God, whose boundless powered
    Is ever new and ever young,
And firm endures, while countless years
    Their everlasting circles run.

From Thee, the overflowing spring,
    My soul shall drink a fresh supply;
While such as trust their native strength,
    Shall melt away and drop and die.

Swift as an eagle cuts the air,
    We’ll mount aloft to thine abode;
On wings of love our souls shall fly,
    Nor tire amidst the heavenly road.

                                                        WATTS.
                _______________


“NEARER, MY GOD, TO THEE.”

Nearer, my God, to Thee, nearer to thee!
E’en though it be a cross that raiseth me:
Still all my song shall be,
    “Nearer, my God, to Thee, — nearer to thee!”

Though like the wanderer, the sun gone down,
Darkness be over me, my rest a stone;
Yet in my dreams I’d be
    “Nearer, my God, to Thee, — nearer to thee!”

There let the way appear steps unto heaven;
All that thou sendest me in mercy given;
Angels to beckon me
    “Nearer, my God, to Thee, — nearer to thee!”

Then with my waking thoughts bright with thy praise,
Out of my stony griefs Bethel I’ll Raise:

So by my WOES to be  
    “Nearer, my God, to Thee, — nearer to thee!”

Or if on joyful wing, cleaving the sky,
Sun, moon and stars forgot, upward I fly,
Still all my song shall be,
    “Nearer, my God, to Thee, — nearer to thee!”

                                                                S. F. ADAMS.

SOURCE: James Redpath, Editor, Echoes of Harper’s Ferry, p. 410-1