Poems (Shipton)/Words
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For works with similar titles, see Words.
WORDS.
"Set a watch, Lord, before my mouth: keep the door of my lips."—Psalm cxh. 3.
"Every idle word that men shall speak, they shall give account thereof in the day of judgment."—Matt. xii. 36.
"The words of the pure are pleasant words."—Prov. xv. 26.
Oh, never say a careless word
Hath not the power to pain;
The shaft may ope some hidden wound
That closes not again.
Weigh well those light-winged messengers;
God marked thy heedless word,
And with it, too, the falling tear,
The heart-pang which it stirred.
Hath not the power to pain;
The shaft may ope some hidden wound
That closes not again.
Weigh well those light-winged messengers;
God marked thy heedless word,
And with it, too, the falling tear,
The heart-pang which it stirred.
Words! what are words? An idle breath
That floateth lightly by,
Smiles on the lip from whence it came
In tones of melody.
Yet words have strength to wound or bless,
Though lightly they be flung;
Still writ upon some human heart,
Told by an angel's tongue.
That floateth lightly by,
Smiles on the lip from whence it came
In tones of melody.
Yet words have strength to wound or bless,
Though lightly they be flung;
Still writ upon some human heart,
Told by an angel's tongue.
Words! what are words? A simple sound
Hath spells to call the tears
That long have lain a sealed fount,
Through many mournful years.
Back from the shrouded sepulchre
A word hath summoned forth
A form, that hath its place no more
Among the things of earth.
Hath spells to call the tears
That long have lain a sealed fount,
Through many mournful years.
Back from the shrouded sepulchre
A word hath summoned forth
A form, that hath its place no more
Among the things of earth.
Words! Heed them well. Some whispered tone
Hath yet a power to fling
A shadow on the brow, the soul
In agony to wring;
A name, forbidden or forgot,
That sometimes unawares
Murmurs upon our wakening lips,
And mingles in our prayers.
Hath yet a power to fling
A shadow on the brow, the soul
In agony to wring;
A name, forbidden or forgot,
That sometimes unawares
Murmurs upon our wakening lips,
And mingles in our prayers.
Oh, words, sweet words! A blessing comes
Softly from kindly lips;
Tender, endearing words, that break
The spirit's drear eclipse.
Oh, are there not some cherished tones
Deep in the heart enshrined?
Uttered but once, they passed, and left
A track of light behind.
Softly from kindly lips;
Tender, endearing words, that break
The spirit's drear eclipse.
Oh, are there not some cherished tones
Deep in the heart enshrined?
Uttered but once, they passed, and left
A track of light behind.
Words! what are words? Ah! know'st thou not
The household names of love?
The thousand tender memories
That float their graves above?
Buried beneath the world's cold tread,
Yet 'mid the crowd they rise,
And smile, as angel-guests would smile,
With gentle, earnest eyes.
The household names of love?
The thousand tender memories
That float their graves above?
Buried beneath the world's cold tread,
Yet 'mid the crowd they rise,
And smile, as angel-guests would smile,
With gentle, earnest eyes.
Thou hast been blest, if never bent
Thy head in anguish low
To hide the trembling lip, the tear
One word hath caused to flow;
Striving in vain to mask the pain
Veiled by thy silent pride,
While faintly smiled the blanching lip
That strove the pang to hide.
Thy head in anguish low
To hide the trembling lip, the tear
One word hath caused to flow;
Striving in vain to mask the pain
Veiled by thy silent pride,
While faintly smiled the blanching lip
That strove the pang to hide.
But oh! more blest if memory bring
No record from the past,
When careless word or glance of thine
A withering shadow cast;
If no loved one hath sorrowing wept,
When through the quivering soul
Thy bitter words went echoing
Like thunder's sullen roll.
No record from the past,
When careless word or glance of thine
A withering shadow cast;
If no loved one hath sorrowing wept,
When through the quivering soul
Thy bitter words went echoing
Like thunder's sullen roll.
God's high and holy dwelling-place
Those words went floating by,
And still the echo wanders on
Throughout eternity;
And in the silence of the heart
Their whisper still is heard:
Jesus, with thy precious blood
Blot out the idle word.
Those words went floating by,
And still the echo wanders on
Throughout eternity;
And in the silence of the heart
Their whisper still is heard:
Jesus, with thy precious blood
Blot out the idle word.
Are there no words that from the fount
Of life and blessing come,
Cheering the sorrowing soul with love,
And leading wanderers home?
O Christ! write Thou Thy words of peace
Upon my heart, and be
The guard of each winged messenger
That upward flies to Thee.
Of life and blessing come,
Cheering the sorrowing soul with love,
And leading wanderers home?
O Christ! write Thou Thy words of peace
Upon my heart, and be
The guard of each winged messenger
That upward flies to Thee.