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Ulysses Phillips F&V  June 1950

From the little town of Sychar
Out to father Jacob’s well,
Came a woman to draw water;
But her name I can not tell.

There she saw a man named Jesus,
Though at first she knew him not.
In her mind no doubt were queries
As she held her water pot.

“Give me to drink,” said the Master—
She discerned he was a Jew ;
Why asketh thou me for water?
I have naught to do with you.

If thou knewest who is speaking,
(For I have no racial strife),
Thou would ask for living water,
And receive eternal life.

Then you would never thirst again,
Neither would you need to draw;
But the water would be in you
With a supernatural flow.

Said she, “Sir, give me this water,”—
O, how quick she changed her thought,
When she had talked a while with Jesus—
Then she left her water pot.

She must go and tell to others
She had found the true Messiah,
If you drink the living water,
That will be your heart’s desire.

It will change your entire nature,
Form, and make you all anew—
O, just drink from this pure fountain,
It will cleanse you through and through

Then your thirst for worldly pleasure
Will be gone, and you can say,
Praise the Lord for living water,
All my sins are washed away!


Traveling Needs

May Ola Casto F&V Nov. 1959
I said, “Lord, may I now
Into your service go?
May I go near and far
To seek souls lost in woe?

He said, “If you would go,
Your suitcase you must pack;
For on this journey great
You must not suffer lack.”

He gave a list to me
Of things that I would need,
And if you want to see,
Til tell you where to read.

Galatians, chapter five,
Verse twenty-two then -three;
He said, “Take love and joy
And peace along with thee.

Longsuffering, gentleness, goodness,
Faith, meekness, temperance, too;
If you have all these fruits,
I’m sure they’ll see you through.”

In second Peter, one,
Verses five to seven,
He gave another list
To fit my soul for heaven.

He told me on my trip
To take a rich supply;
For if I have these graces,
My soul shall never die.

And if I find I’m short
Of these and need some more,
He told me where to go
To get abundant store.

In Hebrews chapter four,
The sixteenth verse we read,
“ Come boldly to my throne
For all the grace you need.”

So now I check my list
As I my suitcase pack,
And check it o’er again
To see if there’s a lack.

For when I meet my Lord,
I want to hear, “Well done;
My graces you displayed
As your good race was run.


At Wartburg Castle sat a Son of Thunder

Dealing Heaven’s Dynamite

When lo! Before him ‘peared an apperation Furry threatening Damon sight.

The piercing words of truth, so long be-smothered Flashed the burning wrath upon The devils patent monk and pope religion,

Who confronts the dread reform.

A thousand years of stupid chains of darkness Bound the devil in his pit.

His creeds and bulls held fast the world in bondage Leaving him at leisure.

That thousand years thought yet to come

in babel Fancy pictured reign of peace—

Passed while the souls of martyrs ‘neath the altar Waited till the evening grace

While earth groped on in darkest superstition, Ruled by cassock, cowl, and priest,

Few souls had life for satan’s bent to slaughter, Chained him from wanted feast.

But with the early gleams of reformation,

He in person re-appears

His int’rest trusted not to deputation,

Quiekly breaks the thousand years.

Before the dauntless, lion-hearted Luther

Forth the hellish monster stood,

Drawn from his prison by the scattering thesis ‘Gainst the Romish viper brood.

He lifted up his eyebrows knit with thunder,

To the hellish spectre said With stern address

Hurls an inkstand at his head.

How potent proved the Doctor’s splattering missile, Hist’ry leaves us no memoir.

But ink he threw on paper at the devil,

Battered down his kingdom more.

Still on mercy moved the Great Eternal, Re-instating Heaven’s truth;

Long fallen in the filthy streets of babel,

Trampled under foot forsooth.

A season passed of mingled light and darkness, Counted neither day or night.

With each reform break in more gleams of brightness, Loosing satan more to fight.

But now at last the fogs and mist are scattered, And the sanctuary purged. The hidings of the devil thus demolished, By the hand he’s surely scourged.

The Dragon forced to open field of battle,

Driven from his final trench.

Can’t throw up another line of babel,

Thence from storm of truth to flinch.

He would ‘tis true whitewash his sect divisions Pass them for the wholly bride.

But truth uncaps the wicked corporations,

And her founder cannot hide.

The light reveals her in every quarter,

And she’s strewn with dead men’s bones; Remains of souls that long have fed her slaughter; Hell with many a victim groans.

Thus chafed to anger like a beast of fury,

When denied a skulking den,

And tantalized by thunderbolts of fire,

Satan writhed within his pen.

At last he breaks the chains of self possession, Doth his best what time he hath. Well knowing that he’s but a little season’ Comes he forth in utmost wrath.

Now loosed, his imps o’er all this earth are swarming; But retreating toward the brink, Driven back by truth in thunder rolling, And the rapid flying ink.

Not as did the sturdy Wittenburger

Fling his ink stand at the foe,

But by mighty force of steam much faster

We the battle ink can throw.

At a point where two lightning tracks lay crossing Northward, southward, east and west,

God has planted there a Campbell mortar

Firing ink at satan’s crest.

This enginery by modern skill constructed,

Hath a strong capacious fount,

Whence ink, by rollers to and fro

conducted, Into ammunition count

The ink rolls o’er ten thousand silent voices,

All in rank and file complete;

When touched, each one prepares His trump

for sounding,

He sheets borne round by cylindric motion,

Take the type’s impressive kiss,

Inspiring them with love and truth’s great mission, And salvation’s perfect bliss.

Not only toward the main fourwinds of Heaven, Sin consuming ink is shot;

But right and left in force, ‘tis outward given, Striking sin in every spot.

When round “Mansoul” Emanuel plants His army, To retake the famous town,

On “eye-gate” hill He plants this mighty engine,

Till surrendered to His Crown.

If chance a pilgrim’s shield of faith is drooping, And his heart with fear oppressed;

Then comes the Ink winged angel,

trumpet sounding-And his soul anew is blest

D. S. Warner 1842-1895

*NOTE: The poem "Throwing Ink at the Devil" refers to the printing and publishing of The Gospel Trumpet. The place "where two lightning tracks lie crossing” is Grand Junction, Michigan, where the publishing office was then located. 

** Also references to John Bunyan's writings.

By Harlan Sorrell
Easter and Christmas, Sunday too,
Stand out in some folk’s minds taboo;
While there are many who now say
Christians should keep the Sabbath Day;
And being scrupulous of meat,
Say herbs are what we all should eat.
Some are contentious about shoes,
Or beards, head coverings, and hairdos.
There’s scruples about holidays,
Secular systems, means, and ways.
Man’s conscience – it is quite a thing!
The course of action it may bring
Depends on how it has been trained,
And how man’s intellect is reined.
So, with these solemn thoughts in view,
And pious standards not a few,
What is the true standard today,
Or law, which Christians should obey?
Were we to judge ourselves by man,
We would e’er long be overran
By so many conflicting views,
We’d know not how the right to choose!
But I’m so glad God made a plan,
Revealed it in His Word to man,
Whereby the sweet Spirit of truth
May guide our footsteps from our youth. (John 16:13)
God’s Spirit in man’s inward part
Gives man a perfect, sinless heart;
When God’s law is inscribed within, (Heb. 10:16)
It frees man from the law of sin. (Rom. 8:2-4)
Thus, it is plain for us to see
What Paul meant, there in chapter three
To those Galatian folk who fell
From grace, and no longer ran well.
Paul said unto those foolish ones,
“Having in the Spirit begun,
Are ye perfected by the flesh?” (Gal. 3:3)
Now let us get the message fresh!
The flesh can’t profit anything (John 6:63)
Or to man’s heart perfection bring,
So, since the flesh holds naught in store,
What’s all this legal clamor for?
“Tis by a far superior plan
God purifies the soul of man.
Circumcision and Sabbath days,
And all ceremonial Jewish ways
Were types of what we have today (Col. 2:16-17)
Within a “new and living way.” (Heb. 10:19-20)
True righteousness, which brings God praise
Today, has no regard to days.
Holiness which salvation brings
Is placed on men, not days, or things.
And everything God’s people touch
Is hallowed therefore, inasmuch
As they do all in view of Him
Who died and ‘rose again for them.
Time and possessions – all are spent
In God’s will one hundred percent.
Unto the Lord we eat, or sleep
Rise up, sit down, or sail the deep.
And doing all as to the Lord,
On all we do His grace is poured.
Thus, who regards unto the Lord
A day, shall reap equal reward
To the devotion of his heart
To God – the day plays no real part.
And who the day regardeth not
Shall need not be put on the spot.
This same doctrine is true of meat
Which men refuse or choose to eat. (Rom. 14)
Let ev’ry Christian understand;
Christ’s gospel enjoins no command
To hallow times, or days, or things,
But a much higher standard brings!
Look! Holiness is now the law – (Ezek. 43:12)
It’s perfect, having not a flaw –
The perfect law of liberty
That rules God’s house, whose house are we! (Heb. 3:6)
This law God writes within our hearts (Jer. 31:33)
By the good Spirit He imparts.
And this law never will abjure
That which in principle is pure.
So by the principles involved,
Many such issues must be solved.
Seeing the house, God’s Church, is free
From legalistic sanctity,
Should anyone in bondage feel
To regulations that appeal
Beyond what nature would embrace
By holiness acquired through grace?
By nature gladly we obey
All the New Testament doth say;
With hearts freed from the law of sin,
We need no added rules of men.
With liberty in Christ we’re found,
And by no legal code we’re bound.
So any day that men abuse,
The saints of God can also use
To glorify and praise the Lord,
And his blessing will be outpoured.
You never need abhor a day,
For it is the Lord’s anyway!
Observe all things in purity,
And you’ll be blessed accordingly.
True sacredness is not in days,
But in a life that gives God praise.
And whatsoe’er a man may do
From a pure heart, with Christ in view,
Is sweet incense unto the Lord, (Matt. 26:6-13)
And on his soul will be outpoured
Rich blessings in a copious shower,
While moments glide by hour by hour.
That wrought in bounds of holiness,
Whate’er the day, the Lord will bless.
And daily, with God’s will in view,
His Spirit will guide, direct you,
He’ll write God’s law upon your heart,
Interpretation He’ll impart,
He’ll balance you on every line,
And make your life for Jesus shine.
He’ll teach you how a saint should dress,
Should act, and speak, and you’ll possess
The meek and lowly mind of Christ,
A jewel which cannot be priced –
The grace of true humility,
Which is to ev’ry grace the key.
Neither dogmatic, nor headstrong,
With all in Christ you’ll get along.
You will be gentle, kind, and true,
When others may differ with you,
And simply leave those things with Him,
So clear to you, yet not to them.
You’ll love souls just like Jesus did
When you in Jesus become hid;
And by this law you will fulfill
His loving kindness and goodwill.
Within you’ll feel a reaching out
Of love to all whom you’re about
In short, your life will truly be



“Mercy and truth are met together; righteousness and peace have kissed each other. Truth shall spring out of the earth; and righteousness shall look down from heaven.” Ps 85: 10-11
“And judgment is turned away backward and justice standeth afar off: for truth is fallen in the street of the great city, which spiritually is called Sodom and Egypt, where also our Lord was crucified.
And after three days and a half the Spirit of life from God entered into them and they stood upon their feet; and great fear fell upon them which saw them.” Rev 11: 8, 12

D. S. Warner 1842-1895

what is truth? Inquired Pilate, sober,
Immersed in deep perplexity,
Trembling while in judgment over
The one his final judge must be.
He asked, but waited not the answer,
For in His majesty there stood
The Truth Himself at his tribunal,
The incarnate Truth of God.

Eternal Truth, thy boundless glory
The holy angles cannot sin.
But rapt by thy Celestial beauty.
We must this feeble tribute bring
For all this heart hast thou enamored,
This humble soul with love enshrined.
Our life is laid upon thy alter,
All thine our body spirit mind..

Shine on with all thy constellation,
The precious attributes of God,
Love, mercy, justice, and compassion;
For second in thy magnitude
Thou only art to lov’s effulgence.
“I AM the Truth” and “God is love”
From both in one omnific fullness,
Proceed the streams of truth above.

High honored and from Everlasting
Thou art, O Truth, a pillar strong;
Upholding Justice, faith and virtue.
Before the stars together sang
Our ill-doomed planet’s new creation,
Thy hand didst hold, on Heaven’s throne.
The balance that weighed all nations,
Upon all worlds that round Thee shone.

Though art the firm and deep foundation
Of hope, and universal good.
And on thy broad eternal bosom,
Is based the awful throne of God.
The myriad stars that gem the ocean
of boundless space, at thy command,
Pursue their even tenored motion,
And all supported by thy hand

The clod we feeble insects cover,
Once deep submerged in angry flood,
Now hangs n short disguised probation
Upon the Truth, “the Word of God.”
The secret’s locked in Father’s bosom,
And marked in Heaven’s calendar;
But present truth gives faithful larum
That time has reached its evening star.

When first this jot of God’s dominion
Was sadly plunged in hell’s control,
Truth dropped betimes some gentle beaming
Upon the ruin of “Mansoul.”
Beneath a dark prophetic mantle
He painted hope to mortal eyes,
And on His Blood be-sprinkled alters,
His coming glory symbolized.

When long expectant, earth had waited,
And all the nations musing sat,
In Heaven's secret council chamber
Truth, love and pity fondly met.
They kissed, as on her lonely orbit.
Earth moved heavy up the skies;
And groaning neath sin’s dark oppression,
Held long their sympathetic eyes.

Then pity broke the silence weeping,
Love, deeply moved, to justice spake,
And mercy joined her interceding
That fallen man for pity’s sake.
Should now be ransomed back to Heaven.
Then Truth rose up in majesty,
Thus saying, “I for man will suffer”,
Here Love and Mercy offer me.

“Great Spirit, give to me a body,
A proper sacrifice for sin,
And thou, O justice! Sum man’s debit,
And let me surety be for him.”
Then answered Pity, Love and Mercy,
“O speed thee Truth, but not alone,
For we thy sisters will go with thee,
And rear on earth thy peaceful throne.

The angles sang the joyful tidings
To shepherds of the lonely night,
“Peace,” highest boon to earth is given
And wisdom came to see the sight.
The Truth has made His lowly advent
Where falsehood sin and error held
For ages past destructive regent.
“Good will to man” the chorus swelled.

So Truth went forth with love and mercy,
And freedom followed in their wake.
The chains of death and hell were broken,
And tyrant thrones were made to shake
They built on earth a crystal palace
Adorned with precious gifts Divine.
The Truth Himself its ground and pillar,
Whence all His grace and glory shine.

Upon the Mountain of His temple
Truth sits the judge of every creed,
And prime instructor of all people
Who wish to gain true wealth indeed.
Thence all the wise and prudent hearted
From earth and sea’s remotest bound,
Go up to drink of wisdom’s fountain,
Whose streams with life and peace abound.

Here grace reveals the happy secret’s
Of living pure and free from sin.
And gratitude to God up-welling,
Her everlasting anthems sing.
Here ransomed souls obtain the glory
That Truth enjoyed in world of light,
And hath bequeathed to all that love Him,
E’er back to Heaven lo winged His flight.

When once enshrined within the bosom
And deeply rooted in the heart,
All earth and hell can ne’er dethrone thee,
For thou, O Truth! So precious art.
What millions for thy sake have suffered,
Yea suffered to the martyr’s crown.
But thou art worthy, Prince of Haven!
That millions more thy scepter own.

In sack clothed, amid thick darkness
For twelve hundred and three score years.
Thou didst bear witness with thy fellow,
When pity seemed to have no tears,
Blood stained the earth along thy pathway:
The throbbing life of holy hearts
Flowed out to seal thy spotless virtue,
Till hell, blood sickened, thence depart.

But devils only quit the carnage
To brew another policy.
Twas this en feigned deceptive homage,
They bow to Christianity.
They aid by means, and willing coansel:
But only lend a helping hand.
In hell’s own interest, Truth to Martyr,
And the Church of God to strand.

The pit devised abomination
Erected in the holy place---
More foul than gory inquisition ---
Confounded truth with sin’s disgrace,
And mixing up in vile confusion,
The works of God and devils too,
Gave birth to o’er six hundred factions,
A God-proclaiming babel show.

Pure Truth declined in this malaria,
The Spirit, lingering, deeply swooned,
Till both were stabbed in sect-Gomorrah,
And fell, alas with mortal wound.
So hell conceived and uttered falsehood,
While “justice standing far off weeps,”
“And judgment is turned away backward,”“For Truth is fallen in the streets.”

Their bodies lay in Sodom, Egypt---
Lay prostrate in her streets in state---
For just three hundred years and fifty,
Which time we’ve seen expire of late.
While laying dead, o’er them exultant,
The town was filled with festive mirth:
Because these prophets sore tormented
All them that dwell upon the earth.

But Truth crushed down shall not forever
Lay martyred, trampled on the ground,
Though she bleeding falls, and seems extermined,
Eternal years are yet her round.
From each reverse she must relumine:
When buried she “springs out the earth.”
For “righteousness looks down from Heaven,”
And glory crowns her going forth.

So the Spirit of life from Heaven
Entered, and Truth stood on His feet.
And with Him rose His fellow witness.
Then falsehood howled for sure defeat
And woe befell her sinful nations,
Who love to make the truth a lie.
And strive to think hell-born traditions
The very truth of God on high.

Then Truth put on His holy armour,
Unsheathed his mighty flaming sward
In war on every creed of error,
On full six hundred mixed and stored
With hoary lies and new inventions,
With every Word of God’s behead,
Each some truth contain, versing others,
So all is owned and all denied.

In some were taught that the Almighty
Had fixed from all Eternity,
Just who is lost who is elected,
By his unchangeable decree.
That some were born for dark perdition
And others born for Heaven’s plain,
And irrespective of volition

Each must that destination gain.

That all the deeds of this probation,
If black as hell or very good,
Are no prelude to future station.
Naught but the pre-decree of God,
That He likewise had made selection
‘Mong them that die in infancy,
A cherub this should be in glory,
And that inhabit misery.

This God and man-bemeaning doctrine
Truth smote to earth and stamped upon,
And burst its hell invented fetter.
So that even in old babylon
Its horrid face is deeply covered
Neath moldy antiquated creeds.
And sinking deeper in oblivion,
As worn out dogmas truth succeeds.

Long was held that sects were holy,
Their origins believed Divine,
Revered as gods, all rights of conscience
Were laid devoutly on her shrine.
Her priests were clothed in superstition,
And worshiped more than God on high
And he who bowed not them subjection,
Must for his high presumption die.

When evil stalked within her border,
“Hush! Hush! Do not the Church deride,
For by her sacred holy order,
All her sins are sanctified:
Her jealous schisms and contentions,
Her many rival alters round,
A healthful zeal imparting friction,
Make grace and righteousness abound,”

Twas deemed an orthodox confession
That grace and sin go hand in hand,
Throughout the years of our probation,
Until we reach the better land.
That none may hope to gain a freedom
Until our last expiring breath.
But sin in thought and word and action
Till saved in the instant of our death.

These old opinions, rags and rubbish,
All thread-bare, filthy, false and vain,
Were but a nasty heap of fuel
For the Divine consuming flame.
And so He burned them all together,
and left instead, as in her youth,
The Church that Jesus built forever.
The pillar and the ground of Truth.

Instead of party name and faction,
And rival clamor “here,” and “there.”
God’s Truth brought fort his great salvation,
And all the ransomed pure and fair,
By love’s Celestial bond united,
In sweet and harmonious praise.
Truth reigning in each happy bosom,
Behold they’re one in all their ways.

He smote all sinnership religion
And blasted every groundless hope,
Demanded present full salvation,
Or else abandon every prop.
He drew a line of demarcation
Twixt every soul of sinful spot.
And he accepting God’s election,
The righteous man that sinneth not.

His hammer smote the black partitions
Until they crumbled into dust
His fire made a conflagration
Of every idol made their trust
He hen restored in all their beauty
The palace He had reared before.
All cleansed and garnished, pure and holy
And filled with glory evermore.

All must receive who here would enter
A circumcision in their hearts.
Repent and leave all creeds of error,
Have truth illume their inner parts.
Lay down their lives on God’s pure alter
And make the perfect Sacrifice
Of earth, and self, and sin forever
And buy the truth at martyr’s price.

Pro 23:23  Buy the truth, and sell it not; also wisdom, and instruction, and understanding.