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THE

SELECTIONiS FROM THE BEST POETS

BIBWCAL SUBJECTS

REV. J. DOUGLAS BORTHWICK

AUTHOR or

** Cydoptedia ^ Historu rf? Geography, " '^ The Britinh American Reader,"
" The Battles of the World," dc, do.

SECOND EDITION REVISED AND IMPROVED.

MONTREAL :
PRINTED & PUBLISHED BY GEO. E. DESBARATS,

At the Office of the "Canadian Illustrated News."

1h71.

Enterkd according to Act of Parliament, iu the year^f Our Lord one
thousand e,ght hundred and seventy-one, by Rkv. Johx Doroi^a
BoKTHWicK, m the office of the Minister of Agriculture.

PREFACE.

Of all tasks which combine dignity with pleasure, and
importance with cheering encouragement, there is none surely
that can be compared to that of awakening in young people
the perception and the enjoyment of poetry. It is the only
branch of education in which three quarters of the work is
done for us already. Yet, though it be at once the easiest and
the most deliglitful of the teacher's duties, it has been,
perhajis, in many instances the most neglected of all. To many,
we have no doubt, the undertaking seems visionary and im-
practicable. Such will admit that it may be good, in an intel-
lectual point of view, to make a child learn verses by heart,
and right, in a moral and religious one, that he should be able
to repeat hyrons and religious poems ; but to expect from him
sympathy or pleasure in poetry as such, is, in their creed, to
expect an impossibility. Ilence, perhaps, it is that so little
attention has been paid to the quality of the verses contained
in books of poetry and elocution from which young people are
to learn. Till very lately they were all but made up of the very
refuse of the Englisli lungufige. What wonder, then, that
children should have coniirmed the theory which held poetical
enjoyment to be impossible at their age I

If there be no valid objection to addressing the minds of
children with poetry, let us study to do so, for there is all
imaginable argument in its favour. I'oetry i.-i tlie safest, as it
is the highest exercise of the imaiji nation. The terrors to which
that power so naturally does homage are shorn of their direst
and most baleful as|)ects, when they are brought within the
realm of beauty. Thoughts of awe will not so readily act as

"night feai-s," when onco they have moved "harmonious
numbers/' And to enjoy poetry at all, is always an exercise,
however unconscious, of the intellect ; so that by giving the
imagination this its best and noblest outlet, we are making it
help to strengthen, instead of, as it otherwise might, enfeeble
the mind. Last of all, it is tlirougli poetry that religious truth
most readily finds its way to tlie heart of "children and child-like
souls ;" thit) divine influence it is which enables u.s to sympathize
with holy men of old. Sacred poetry is, after, of course, her
creed, sacraments, liturgy, and ministry, the brightest posses-
sion of the Church — the richest pasturage of her children;
eminently fitted, therefore, for her little ones, who, as yet,
require none of her stern discipline ; whose minds are all open
to its gentle and holy inspiration ; ready for truth when so
presented to them as that they can livingly apprehend it, but
incapable of giving it any cordial reception in the forms of
logic, or the loveless antagonism of controversy.

For all these reasons, we say, cultivate in children a taste
for poetry. It is hardly a labour to do so : and in as far as it is
one, it is nearly sure to be richly rewarded.

J. Douglas Bobthwioe.

June 1, 1871.

THE HARP OF CANAAN.

HISTORICAL INCIDENTS OF THE OLD TESTAMENT.

THE CREATION.

The spacious firmament on high,

With all the blue ethereal sky,

And spangled heavens, a shining frame,

Their great Original proclaim.

Th' unweari'd sun, from day to day

Does his Creator's power display:

And publishes to ev'ry land

The work of an Ahnighty liand.

Soon as the ev'ning shades prevail.
The moon takes up the wondrous tale
And nightly to the list'ning earth '
Kepeats the story of her birth ;
While all the stars that round her bum
And all the planets in their turn, '

Confirm the tidings as they roll, '
And spread the truth from pole to pole.

What though in solemn silence all
Move round the dark terrestrial ball ?
What though no real voice, nor sotmd
Amidst their radiant orbs be found ? '
In Reason's ear they all rejoice.
And utter forth a glorious voice •
For ever singing, as they shine, '
" The hand that made us is Divine."

THE CREATION.

-Meanwhile the Son

On His great expedition now appear' d,

Girt with Umnii:)otence, witli radiance crowud

Of Majesty I)i\ ine ; sapience and love

Immense, and all His Father in Ilim shone.

About His chariot, numberless were pour'd

Cherub, and seraph, potentates, and thrones,

And virtues, wing'd spirits, and chariots wing'd

From th' armory of God, where stand of old

Mj'riads, between two brazen mountains lodg'd

Against a solemn day, harness'd at hand,

Celestial equipage ! and now came i'orth

Spontaneous, for within them spirit liv'd,

Attendant on their Lord: heaven oj^eu'd wide

Her ever-during gates, harmonious sound !

On golden hinges moving, to let forth

The King of Gloiy, in His powerful Word

And Spirit coming to create new worlds.

On heavenly ground they stood ; and from the shore

They view'd the vast immeasurable abyss,

Outrageous as a sea, dark, wasteful, wild.

Up from the bottom turn'd by furious winds

And surging waves, as mountains, to assault

Heaven's height, and with the centre mix the pole.

" Silence, ye troubled waves, and thou deep, peace! '

Said then th' omniflc Word; " your discord end : "

Ivor stay'd ; but on the wings of cherubim

Uplifted, in paternal glory rode

Far into Chaos, and the world unborn ;

For Chaos heard His voice. Him all His train

FoUow'd in bright jDrocession, to behold

Creation, and the wonders of His might.

Then stay'd the fervid wheels; and in His hand

He took the golden compasses, prepar'd

In God's eternal store, to circumscribe

This universe, and all created things.

One foot He center' d, and the other turn'd

Eound through the vast profundity obsoui-e,

And said. '' Tlius far extend, ihus far thy bounds,

This be thy just circumference, O wurld I "

i i

THE FIRST SABB: TH.

Here finish'd He, and all that He had made,

View'd, and behold all was entirely good ; >

So even and morn accomplish'd the sixth day :

Yet. not till the Creator, from His work

Desisting, though unwearied, up return'd,

Up to the heaven of heavens. His high abode;

Thence to behold this new created world.

The addition of His empire, how it show'd

In i^rosj^ect from His throne, how good, how fair,

Answering His great idea. Up He rode,

Follow'd with acclamation, and the sound

Symphonious of ten thousand harps that tuned

Angelic harmonies ; the earth, the air

Ee.sounded (thou remember'st, for thou heard'st,)

The heavens and all the constellations rung,

The planets in their station listening stood.

While the bright pomp ascended jubilant.

" Open, ye everlasting gates ! " they sung,

" Open, ye heavens, your living doors ; let in

*' The great Creator from His work iieturn'd

^* MagniHcent, His six days' work, a world ;

*' Open, and henceforth oft ; for God will deign

" To visit oft the dwellings of just men,

*' Delighted ; and with frequent intercourse

'' Thither will send His winged messengers

*' On errands of supernal grace.'" — So sung

The glorious train ascending : He through heaven,

That open'd wide her blazing portals, led

To God's eternal house direct the way ;

A broad and amjile road, whose dust is gold.

And pavement stars, as stars to thee appear

Seen in the galaxy, that milky-way

Which nightly, as a circling zone, thou seest

Powder'd with stars. And now on eartli the seventh

Evening rose in Eden, for the sun

Has set, and twilight from the east came on,

Forerunning night ; when at the holy mount

Of heaven's high-seated top, the imperial throne

Of Godhead lixed for ever firm and sure.

The Filial Power arrived, and sat Hiri down

With His great Father there; and, from His work

Now resting, bless'd and hallow'd the seventh duy.

As resting on that day from all His work.

But not in silence holy kept : the harp

Had work and rested not ; the solemn pipe,

And dulcimer, all organs of swaet stop,

All sounds on fret by string or golden wire,
Tempor'd soft tunings, intermix'd with voice
Choral or unison : of incense clouds,
Fuming from golden censers, hid the mount.
Creation and the six days' acts they sung':

' Great are Thy works, Jehovah ! infinite

' Thy power ! what thought can measure Thee, or tongue

' Kolato Thee? Greater now in Thy return

' Than from the giant angels : Thee that day

• Thy thunders magnified ; but to create
' Is greater than created to destroy.

' Who can impair Thee, Mighty King, or bound

' Thy emiiire? Easily the proud attempt

' Of spirits apostate, and their counsels vain,

' Thou hast repell'd ; while impiously they tliought

Thee to diminisli, and from Thee withdraw
' The number of Thy worshippers. Who seeks
' To lessen Thee, against his purpose serves

* To manifest the more Thy might: his evil

' Thou usest, and from thence Greatest more good..
' Witness this new-made world, another heaven
' From heaven-gate not far, founded in view

On the clear hyaline, the glassy sea ;
' Of amplitude almost immense, with stars
' Numerous, and t ery star perhaps a world
' Of destined habitation; but Thou know'st

Their seasons : among these the seat of men,
' Earth with her nether ocean circumfused,
' Their pleasant dwelling place. Thrice happy mea
' And sons of men whom God hath thus advanced I
' Created in His image theie to dwell
' And worship Him ; and in reward to rule
' Over His works, on earth, in sea, or air,
' And multiply a race of worshippers
' Holy and just; thrice happy, if they know
' Their happiness, and persevere upright ! "
So sung they, and the empyrean rung
With hallelujahs : thus was the Sabbath kept.

GOD VISIBLE IN ALL NATUKE.

There lives and works
A soul in all things, and that soul is God.
The beauties of the wilderness are His,
That make so gay the solitary place,
Where no eye sees them; and the fairM* forms

That cultivation glories in are His.
, He sets the bright procession on its way,
And marshals all the order of the year ;
He marks the bounds which Winter may not pass.
And blunts his pointed fury : in its case,
Kusset and rude, Iblds up the tender germ,
Uninjured, with inimitable art ;
And, ere one flowery season fades and dies,
Designs the blooming wonders of the next.

The Lord of all Himself through all diftused,

Sustiiins, and is the life of all that lives.

Kature is but a name for an etfect.

Whose cause is God. . . . Uno Spirit — His

Who wore the platted thorns, with bleeding brows-

Kules universal nature. Not a flower

But shows some touch, in Ireckle. streak, or strain,

Of His unrivalled pencil. He inspires

Their balmy odours, and imparts their liues.

And bathcii their eyes vith nectar, and includes,

In grains as countless as the sea-side sands,

The forms with whicli He sprinkles all tbn earth.

Happy who walks witli Him ! whom wliat he finds

Of flavour or of scent in fruit or Hower,

Or what he views of beautiful or gi-and

In Nature, from the broad majestic oak

To the green blade that twinkles in tlie sun.

Prompts with rememljrance of a present God.

ADAM'S FIRST SENSATIONS.

As new waked from soundest sleep,
Soft on the flowery herb I found me laid,
In V>ahny sweat which with his beams the Sun
Soon dried, and on the reeking moistuie fed.
Straight toward heaven my wona3ring eyes I turned^
And gazed a while the ampie sky till, raised
By quick instinctive motion, up I sprung.
As thitherward endeavouring, and upright
Stood on my feet. About me round I saw
Hill, dale, and shady woods, and sunny plains,
And I'.quid lapse of murmuring streams ; by these
Creatures that lived and moved, and walked or flew ^
Birds on the branches warbling. All things smiled y
With fragrance and with joy my heart o'erflowed.
Myself I then perused, and limb by limb

Surveyed and sometimes went, and sometimes ran
With supple joints, as lively vigour led :
But who I was, or where, or from what cause,
Knew not. To speak I tried, and forthwith spake j
My tongue obeyed, and readily could name
Whato'er I saw, " Thou Sun," said I, " i'air light,
And thou enlightened Earth, so fresh and gay.
Ye hills and dales, ye rivers, woods, and plains.
And ye that live and move, lair creatures, tell.
Tell, if you saw, how I came thus, how here ?
Not of mj'selfl By some great Maker, then.
In goodness and in power pre-eminent :
Tell me how may I know him, how adore.
From whom I have that thus I move and live.
And feel that I am happier than I know."

THE GARDEN OF EDEN.

Southward through Eden went a river large.

Nor changed his course, but through the shaggy hill

Passed underneath engulfd ; for (iod had thrown

That mountain as his garden mould, high raised

Upon the ra2)id current, which ihrough veins

Of porous earth, with kindly thirst up drawn,

Kose a fresh fountain, and with many a rill

Watered the garden ; thence luiited fell

Down the steep glade, and met the nether flood.

Which from his darksome passage now appears :

And now divided into four main streams,

Euns diverse, wandering many a famous realm

And country, wheieof here needs no account;

But rather to tell how, if Art could tell —

How, from tnat sapphire fount the cr'sp^d brooks,

Eolling on orient pearls and sands of gold,

With mazy error lender pendent shades.

Ran nectar, visiting each plant, and fed

Flowers worthy of Paradise, which not nice Art

In beds and curious knots, but Nature boon

Poured forth profuse on hill, and dale, and jilain.

Both where the morning sun first warmly smote

The open field, and where the unpierced shade

Imbrowned the noontide bowers : thus was this place

A happy rural seat of various view ; —

■Groves whose rich trees wept odorous gums and balm,

•Others, whose fruit, burnished with golden rind,

Hun.i! amiable, Hesperian fables true,

If true, hei "; only, and of delicious taste :
Betwixt them lawns and level downs, and flocks
Orazing the tender herb, were interposed^
Or palmy hillock ; or the tiowenr lap
Of some irriguous valley spread' Ler store,
Flowers of all hue, and without thorn, the rose :
Another side, umbrageous grots and caves
Of cool recess, o'er which the mantltng vine
Lays forth her purple grapes, and gently creeps
Luxuriant ; meanwhile murmuring waters fall
Down the slope hills, disjter^ed. or in a lake,
That to the fringed bank •with mvrtle crowned
Her crystal mirror holds, unite their streams.
The birds their choir apply : airs, vernal airs,
Breathing the smell of tield and grove, attune
The trembling leaves, while universal Pan,
Knit with the Graces and the Hours in dance,
Led on the eternal Spring.

EVE'S RECOLLECTIONS.

That day I oft remember, when from sleep
I first awaked, and found myself reposed
Under a shade on flowers, much wondering where
And what 1 was, whence thither brought, and how.
Not distant far from thence, a murmuiing sound
Of waters issued from a cave, and spread
Into a liquid plain, then stood unmoved
Pure as the expanse of heaven. I thither went
With unexperienced thought, and laid me down
On the green bank, to look into the clear
Smooth lake, that to me seem'd another sky.
As I bent do.vn to look, just opposite
A shajje within the watery gle^ai appear d,
Bending to look on me : J tiajted Ij^ck.
It started back ; but pleasred I soo»n retum'd,
Pleased it return' d as soon with answering looks
Of sympathy and love.

EVE TO ADAM.

With thee conversing 1 forget all time ;
All sefiHons, and their change, all please alike.
Sweet is tlie breath of Morn, her rising sweet,
With chai-ni oi" earliest birds ; pleasant the Sun^
When first on this delightful land he spreads
His orient beams on herb, tree, fruit, and flower.
Glistering with dew : fragrant the fertile Earth
After soft showers ; and sweet the coming on
Of grateful Evening mild ; then silent Night,
With this her solemn bird, and this fair Moon,
And these the gems of Heaven, her starry train.
But neither breatli of Morn, when she ascends
With charm of earliest birds; nor rising Sun
On this delightful land ; nor herb, fruit, flower,
Glistering with dew ; nor fragrance after shov/ers,
Nor grateful Evening mild ; nor silent Night,
With this her solemn bird : nor walk by Moon
Or glittering star-light, without thee, is sweet.

"ADAM, WHERE ART THOU?"

Adam, where art thou ? monarch, where ?

It is thy Maker calls :
What mean;? that look of wild despair,

What anguish now enthralls ?
Why in the wood's embowering shide,

Dost thou attempt to hide,
From llim Whose hand thy kingdom made,

And all thy wants supplied ?
Go hide again, thou fallen one,

The crown has left thy brow |
The robe of purty is gone,

And thou art i.aked now.

I I

Adam, where art thou ? monarch, wlu .(
Assert thy high command ?

Call forth the tiger from his lair,
To lick thy kingly hand ;

Control the air, control the earth,
Control the foaming sea ;

They ow . no more thy heavenly birth,

Or heaven-stamp' d royal ty.
The brutes no longer will caress

But share with thee thy reign ;
For the sceptre of thy righteousness,

Thy hands have snapped in twain.

Adam, where art thou ? monarch, where T

Thou wondrous thing of clay ;
Ah ! let the eartliworm now declare,

Who claims thee as his prey ;
Thy mother, oh thou mighty one,

For thee re-opes her womb ;
Thou to the narrow house art gone,

Thy kingdom is thy tomb ;
The truth from Godhead's lips that came,

There in thy darkness learn ;
Of dust was formed thy beauteous fi-ame,

And shall to dust return.

Adam, where art thou ? where I ah where f

Behold him raised above.
An everlasting life to share,

In the bright world of love.
The hand he once 'gainst heaven could raise,

Another sceptre holds ;
His brows where new-born glories blaze.

Another crown enfolds.
Another robe's Hung over him,

More fair than was his own ;
And with the fire-tongued seraphim,

He dwells before the throne.

But whence could such a change proceed ?

What power could raise him there ?
So late by God's own voice decreed

Transgression's curse to bear.
Hark ! hark ! he tells — ^a harp well strun^

His grateful arms embrace ;
iSalvation is his deathless song,

And grace, ; abounding grace ;
And sounds t'.nougli all the upper sky

A strain with wonders rife,
Vhat Life hath given itself to die,

And bring death back to life.

ADAM AND EVE LEAYINa PARADISE.

So spake our Mothpr Eve ; and Adam heard

Well-pleased, but answered not : for now too nigh

The Archangel stood ; and from the other hill

To their fixed station, all in bright array,

The Cherubim descended; on the ground

Gliding meteorous, as evening mist

Ilisen Irom a river o'er the marish glides,

And gathers ground, fast at the labourer's heel

Homeward returning. High in front advanced

The brandished sword of God before them blazed.

Fierce as a comet ; which, with torrid heat

And vapours as the Lybian air adust.

Began to parch that temperate clime ; whereat

In either hand the hast'ning Angel caught

Our lingering parents : and to th' eastern gate

Led them direct and down the cliff' as fast

To the subjected plain : then disappeared.

They, looking back, all the eaacern side beheld

Of Paradise ; so late their happy seat I

Waved over by that Haming brand ; the gate

With dreadful faces thronged and fiery arms.

Some natural tears they dropped, but wiped them soon j:

The world was all before them, where to choose

Their place of rest, and Providence their guide.

They, hand in hand, with wandering steps and slow,

Through Eden took their solitary way.

EVE'S FIRST BORN.

For the first time, a lovely scene ■

Earth saw, and smiled —
A gentle form with pallid mien.

Bending o'er a new-born child.
The pang, the anguish, and the woe

That speech hath never told,
Fled, as the sun with noontide glow

Dissolves the snow-wreath cold.
Leaving the bliss that none but mothers know.

While he. the partner of her heaven-taught joy.
Knelt in adoiitig praise beside the beauteous boy.

She, first of all our mortal race,
Learned the ecstacy to trace
The expanding form of infant grace,
From her own lil'e-spring fed ;

To mark each radiant hour,
Heaven's sculpture still more perfect growing,

More full of power ;
The little foot's elastic tread,
The rounded cheek, like rose-bud glowing,
The fringed eye with gladness flowing

As the pure blue fountains roll ;
And then those lisping sounds to hear,
Unfolding to her thrilling ear

The strange, mysterious, never-dying soul.
And with delight intens3
To watch the angel-smile of sleeping innocence.

No more she mourned lost Eden's joy,

Or wept her cherished flowers.

In their primeval bowers,
By wrecking tenii)est riven ;

The thorn and thistle of the exile's lot

She heeded not.
So all absorl)ing was hev sweet employ
To rear the incipient man, the ^'''t: her God had given.

" CAIN, WHERE IS THY BROTHER ABEL ?

»r

Where is thy brother Abel ?

Thou murderer, answer, where ?
He talked with thee on yonder plain.

Beside the altar there ;
Sweet peace was in his eye serene.

And his heart was fill'd with love;
As he pointed thy unbonded soul

To Ilim who reigns above.

Where is thy brother Abel ?

Thou fratricide, ah ! where ?
Thy heart, in childhood's earlier hours,

His joy or grief could share ;
Ye danced beneath the same green tree :

In the same bower ye played ;
And oft have wandered hand in hand,

Beneath the gi'ove's deep shade.

ii li

Where is thy brother Abel ?

Unfeeling one, ah I where ?
Lock'd in each other's fond embrace,

Ye once could know no care ;
Nor the silence nor the gloom of night

Could wake an anxious fear,
"While in each other's arms ye lay,

Or felt each other near.

Where is thy brother Abel ?

Ungrateful one, ah ! where ?
His lips dwelt long upon thy name

As he breathed his morning prayer ;
He begged that Heaven would fix thy faith,

On Him that is to ccme,
To take away the curse of sin,

And bring God's outcasts hoijie.

Where is thy brother Abel ?

Thy red hands answer where,
No light is in his sunken eye,

No smiles his cold cheeks bear ;
His lips are closed ; his tongue is sealed j

His locks are w^t with gore ;
The cooling breeze revives him not,

'Tv.'ill wake him now no more.

His blood has raised its voice to heaven,

And calls for vengeance loud ;
Yet mercy still, with smiling face,

Looks o'er the thunder cloud ;
But a fugitive and a vagabond,

Thou now on earth shalt be,
Tliough the latest breath that passed his lips

Was spent in prayer for thee.

ill!

CAIN ON THE SEA-SHORE.

WoB is me I oh where, oh where
Doth my spirit drive me? where?
These wild torrents roll to me
Abel's blood I — It is the seal

E'en to earth's remotest verge
Vengeance doth nie onward urge I

Where no tongue did e'er complain,
Abel's blood has banished Cain !

Woe is me ! My brother's blood
Thunders in the roaring flood !
In the rocky beach's sound!
In the cavern's loud rebound!

As the waves beat round the rock,
So my spirit feels the shock
Of giief and rage, anguished mood.
Dread of Heaven, Abel's blood!

Open, waves, youf surging tide !
For the earth, when Ahel died,
Drank the blood of him I slew,
Heard the curse of vengeance too !

•Open, waves, your surging tide!
And disclose your bed all wide !
Ah 'tis vain! revenge has might
In the realm of ancient night !

In the darkest, deepest deep,
Abel's shade wculd near me keep —
Near me, though I took my flight
To the highest mountain's height.

Should this frame dissolve away,
Of the whirlpool-storm the prey,
Yet, oh yet, would Cain still dread
Heaven's anger on his head!

Knowl. g now no end, no age,
My tormented spirit's rage
(Time's remotest boundaries past.)
Through unceasing years wi'l last.

Vengeance on my head I drew,
Th' instant I my brother slew !
Woe is me ! oh woe is me !
Dread of Heaven follovvs me '.

ENOCH WALKED WITH GOD.

He walked with God, in holy joy,

While yet his days were few ;
The deep glad spirit of the boy

To love and reverence grew.
Whether, each nightly sttir to count

The ancient hills he trod,
Or sought the Hovvers by stream and fount-

Alike he walked with God.

The graver noon of manhood came,

The time of cares and feai-s ;
One voice wa.s in his heart — the same

It lieard through childliood's years.
Amid fair tents, and flocks and swains,

Oer his green pasture sod,
A shepherd king on eastern plains.

The patriarch walked with God.

And C4ilmly, brightly, tliat pure lifo'

Melted from o;»rth away:
No cloud it knew, no parting strife,

No sorrowful deejay ;
He bow'd him not, like all beside,

Unto the spoiler's rod,
But Join'd at once the glorified

Whero angels walk with God!

iSo let us walk ! — the night must come

To us that comes to all ;
We through the darkness must go hom^

Hearing the tempest's call.
Closed it? tlie path for evermore

Which without death he trod;
Not so that way wherein of yore

His footsteps waik'd with God.

c-.^..,^-

THE DELUGE.

Morn came , but the broad light, which hung so long

In heaven, forsook the showering firmament,

The clouds went floating on their fatal way.

Rivers had grown to seas : the great sea swollen,

Too mighty for its bounds, broke on the land,

Koaring and rushing, and each flat and plain

Devoured. Upon the mountains now were seen

Gaunt men and women hungering with their babes

Eyeing each other, or, with marble looks.

Measuring the space beneath, swift less^ening.

At tia .»s a swimmer from a distant rock

Less high, came struggling with the waves, but s,, nk

Back from the slippery soil. Pale mothers then

Wept without hope, and agdd heads struck cold

By agues, trembling like autumnal leaves ;

And infants mourned, and young boys shrieked with fear.

Stout men grew white with famine. Beautiful girls,

Whom once the day languished to look on, lay

On the wet earth, and rung their drenching hiair;

And fathers saw them there dying, and stole

Their scanty fare, and, while they perished, thrived.

Then terror died, and grief, and proud despair,

Rage, and remorse, infinite agony.

Love in its thousand shapes, weak and sublime,

Birth-strangled ; and strong passion perished.

The young, the old, weak, wise, the bad, the good,

Fell on their faces, struck, — whilst over them

Washed the wild waters, in their clamorous march.

Still fell the flooding rains. Great Ossa stood

Lone, like a peering Alp, when vapours shroud

Its sides unshaken in the restless waves :

But from the weltering deeps Pelion arose.

And shook his piny forehead at the clouds,

Moaning ; and crowned Olympus all his snows

Lost from his hundred heads, and shrank aghast.

Day, eve, night, morning, came and passed away.

No sun was known to rise and none to set :

'Stead of its glorious beams a sickly light

Paled the broad oast what time the day is born ;

At others a thick mass, vapours and black

In form like solid marble, roofed the sky.

Yet gave no shelter. Still the ravenous wolf

Howled ; the wild foxes, and the household do;^

Grown wild, upon the mounfexins fought and fed

Each on the other. The great eagle still

In his home brooded, inaccessible ;

Or, when the gloomy morning seemed to break.

Floated in silence on the shoreless seas.

Still the quick snake unclasped its glittering eyes,

Or shivering lunig about the roots of pines ;

And still all round the vultures flew ard watched

The tumbling waters thick with bird and beast ;

Or, dashing in the midst their ravenous beaks,

Plundered the rolling billows of their dead.

Beneath the headlong torrents, towns and towers

Fell down ; temples all stone, and brazen shrines,

And piles of marble, Palace and Pyramid

(Kings' homes or towering graves) in a breath were swept

Crtunbling away. Masses of ground, and trees

Uptom and floating, hollow rocks brute-crammed.

Vast herds, and bleating flocks, reptiles, and beasts

Bellowing, and vainly with the choking waves

Struggling, were hurried out, — but none returned :

All on the altar of the giant sea

Offered, like twice ten thousand hecatombs.

Still fell the flooding rains, still the earth shrank I

And ruin held his strait territic way.

Fierce lightnings burnt the sky, and the loud thunder

( Breast of fiery air) howled from his cloud,

Exalting toward the storm eclipsed moon.

Below, the ocean rose boiling and black

And flung its monstrous billows far and wide,

Crumbling the moimtain joints and summit hills :

Then its dark throat is bared, and rocky tusks.

Where with enormous waves on their broad backs

The demons of the deep were raging loud :

And the sea lion and the whale were swung,

Like atoms round and round. Mankind was dead ;

And birds whose active wings once cut the air.

The beasts that cut ihe water, all were dead :

And every reptile of the woods had died,

Which crawled or stung, and every curling worm :

The untamed tiger in his den, the mole

In his dark home — were choked; the darting oimce,

An the blind adder, and the stork fell down

Dead; — and the stifled mammoth, a vast bulk.

Was washed far out amongst the populous foam.

And there the serpent, which, few hours ago,

Could crack the panther in his scaly folds,

Lay lifeless, like a weed, beside his prey.

And now, all o'er the deep, corses were strewn,

Wide floating millions, like the rubbish flung

For':h when a plague prevails, the rest down sucked,

Sank buried in the world-destroying seas.

-i

SUBSIDING OF

THE WATERS
DELUGE.

OF THE

He looked and saw the ark hull on the flood,

Which now abated ; for the clouds were fled.

Driven by a keen north wind, that blowing dry,

Wrinkled the face of Deluge, as decayed :

And the clear Sun on his wide watery glass

Glazed hot, and of the fresh wave largely drew,

As after thirst ; which made their flowing shrink

From standing lake to tri])ping ebb, that stole

With soft foot towards the Deep ; who now had stopt

His sluices, as the Heaven his windows shut.

The ark no more now floats, but seems on ground,

Fast on the top of some high mountain fixed.

And now the tops of hills, Jis rocks, appear ;

With clamour thence the rapid currents drive,

Tnwards the retreating sea, their furious tide.

Forthwith from out the ark a raven flies,

And after him the surer messenger,

A dove, sent forth once and again to spy

Green tree or ground, whereon his foot may light :

The second time returning, in his bill

An olive leaf he brings, pacific sign :

Anon, dry ground appears, and iVom his ark

The ancient Sire descends, with all his train,

Then with uplifted hands, .and eyes devout,

Grateful to Heaven, over his head beholds

A dewy cloud, and in the cloud a bow

Conspicuous with three listed colours gay.

Betokening peace from God. and covenant new.

TO THE RAINBOW.

Triumphal arch, that fill'st the sky
When storms prepare to part,

I ask not proud Philosophy
To teach me what thou art.

Still seem, as to my childhuod's sight,
A mid-way station given,

9"?

For happy spirits to uli^tht
Betwixt the eaitli and heaven.

Can all, that optics tench, unlbld

Thy form to pleasf; mo so,
As when I dreamt of gems and gol.l

Ilid in thy radiant how ?

Wlien Science from Creation's face
Enchantment's veil withdraws,

What lovely visions yield their placo
To cold material laws !

And yet, fair bow, no fabling dreams,

But words of the Most High,
Have told why first thy robe of beams

Was woven in the sky.

When o'er the green undeluged earth
Heaven's covenant thou didst shine,

How came the world's grey fathers forth,
To watch thy sacred sign.

And when its yellow lustre smiled,

O'er mountains yet untrod,
Each mother held aloft her child,

To blei^s the bow of God.

i'if'

Methinks, thy jubilee to keep.
The first made anthem rang

On earth, delivered from the deep,
And the first poet sang.

Nor ever shall the Muse's eye,
Unraptured greet thy beam j

Theme of primeval i^rophecy.
Be still the poet's theme !

The earth to thee her incense yields,
The lark thy welcome sings.

When glittering in the freshened Hell.s,
The snowy mushroom springs.

How glorious is thy girdle cast
O'er mountain, tower, and town.

Or mirrored in the ocean vast,
A thousand fathoms down !

As fresh in yon horizon dark,
As young thy beauties seem,

As when the eagle from the ark
First sported in thy beiim.

For, faithful to its sacred page,
Heaven still rebuilds thy span,

Nor lets the type grow pale with age,
That tirst spoke peace to man.

THE DESTRUCTION OF SODOM.

The wind blows chill across those gloomy waves ;

Oh ! how unlike the green and dancing main 1
The surge is foul, as if it rolled o'er graves :

Stranger, here lie the cities of the plain.

Yes, on that plain, by wild waves covered now,
Rose palace once and sparkling pinnacle ;

On pomp and spectacle beamed morning's glow,
On pomp and festival the twilight fell.

Lovely and splendid all, — but Sodom's soul

Was stained with blood, and pride, and perjury ;

Long warned, long spared, till her whole heart was foul,
And fiery vengeance on its clouds came nigh.

And still she mocked, and danced, and, taunting, spoke
Her sportive blasphemies against the Throne :

It came ! The thunder on her slumber broke :
God spake the word of wrath ! — Her dream was done.

Yet, in her final night, amiu her stood
Immortal messengers, and pausing Heaven

Pleaded with man ; but she was quite imbued.
Her last hour waned, she scorned to be forgiven !

'Twas done ! down poured at once the sulphurous shower,
Down stooped, in flame, t'uc heaven's red canopy.

Oh ! for the arm of l^od, in that fierce hour I
'Twas vain ; nor help of rfoti or man was nigh.

They rush, they bound, they howl, the men of sin ;

Still stooped the cloud, still burst the thicker blaze ;
TUxe earthquake heaved I Then sank the hideous dia ;

Yon wave of darkness o'er their ashes strays.

(it

_^1

ABRAHAM'S SACRIFICE.

The noontide sun streamed brightly down-.

< 'n Moriah's mountain crest,

The golden blaze of his vivid rays

Tinged sacred Jordan's breast ;

Whilst towering palms and flowerets sweet,.

Drooped low 'ueath Syria's burning heat.

In the sunny glare of the sultry air,
Tv/iled up the mountain side,
The Patriarch sage in stately age.
And a youth in health's gay pride,
Bearing in eyes and in features fair,
The stamp of his mother's beauty rare.

She had not known when one rosy dawn

Ere they'd started on their way.

She had smoothed with care, his clustering haii'^

And knelt with him to pray.

That his father's hand and will alike,

Were nerved at his young heart to strike.

The Heavenly Power that with such dower

of love fills a mother's heart.

Ardent and pure, that can all endure,

Of her life itself a part.

Knew too well that love beyond all price.

To ask of her such a sacrifice.

Though the noble boy with laughing joy

Had borne on the mountain road,

Th' holocaust wood, which in mournful mood^.

His sire had helped to load,

Type of Him who dragged up Calvary,

The cross on which He was to die.

The hot breath of noon began, ah I soon,

Ctn his youthful frame to tell,

( »n the ivory brow, flushed, wearied, now,

1 1 laid its burning spell.

And listless — heavy — he journeyed on,

1'he smiles from his lips and bright eyes gone.

Once did he say, on their toilsome way,
" Fiither, no victim is near,"
But with heavy sigh and tear dimmed eye,
In accents gad though clear,

Abraham answered : " The Loid our Gaid&.
A fitting holocaust will provide."

The altar made and the fuel laid,

Lo I the victim stretched thereon

Is Abraham's son, his only one,,

Who at morning's blushing dawn.

Had t;tarted with smiles that care defied.

To travel on at his fathers side.

With grief-struck brow, the Patriarch now,
Baicrf the sharp and glittering knife.
On that mournful pyre, oh hapless Sire I
Must he take his darlings life;
Will fails not, though his eves are dlm^
God gave his Boy— he belongs to Him.

With anguish riven, he casts towards heaven.

One look, imploring wild.

That doth mutely pray for strength, lo slay

His own, aye I his only child ;

When forth on the air swells it glad command.

And an angel stays his trembling hand.

The offering done — father and son

Come down Mount Moriah's steep,

Joy gleaming now on Abraham's brow.

In his heart thanksgiving deep :

Whilst from His far and resplendent Throne,

With love, Heaven's King on both looks down.

HAOAR AND ISHMAEL.

" Ah me I My son, my son !
Pitiless light pours down the burning sky,
And water there is none."

" My mother 1 is it night ? "
" Th' accursM sun hath blinded his sweet eves
Those liviug wells of light. ' '

"Night in the midst of noon, —
O would that it were death, that he might wr ke
No more out of his .swoon.

•m

Bi-

i;iii

i':i(

liU

|i
Slilfl

" But he will waken wild
With thirst, and rave, and water there is none —
Oh, God ! my child 1 my child I

"Would I my soul could pour
Out like a well-spring in this scorching waste,
That he might thirst no more.

" Would he my life might drain,
As once my breast, I'd hold it to his lips,
That he might live again.

" I cannot see him die —
O God, how canst thou see it up in Heaven,
Nor help, if Thou art nigh ?

" Wilf, Thou cast off for aye,
Like Abram ? Hast Thou not enough for all ?
That all may hope and pray.

" Yea, if Thou art the Lord,

r ncovenanted though thy mercy be,

Wilt thou not help afford ? "

She ceased ! A stony look
Uplifting to the burning sky once more,
The fainting lad she took,

And lifted him with care
Into the shadow of a rock, and strode ,
Away in her despair.

She will not see him die ;
But hears her heart throb in the voiceless waste,
While listening for his cry.

And listening thus there breaks
A mystic murmur on her straining ear —
As from a dream she wakes.

A mist before her eyes
Of angel wings departing — a white cloud
That lessens up the skies.

And at her feet she knows,
From the soft gush among the sinking «and,
The living water flow.s.

Jif!

- '

ABRAHAM AT MACHPELAH.

Dexselt wrapped in shades
Olive and terebinth, its vaulted door
Flecked with the untrained vine and matted grass,
Behold Machpelah's cave.

Hark ! hear we not
A voice of weeping ? Lo, yon aged man
Bendeth beside his dead. Wave after wava
Of memoiy rises, till his lonely hear i
Sees all its treasures floating on the flood
Like rootless weeds.

The earliest dawn of love
Is present with him, and a form of grace *

Whose beauty held him ever in its thrall :
And then the morn of marriage, gorgeous robes
And dulcet music and the rites that bless
The Eastern bride. Full many a glowing scene
Made happy by her tenderness, returns
To mock his solitude.

Again their home
Oleams through the oaks of Mamro. There he sat
Rendering due rites of hospitality
To guests who bore the folded wing of Heaven
Beneath their vestments. And her smile was there
Among the angels.

When her clustering curls
Wore Time's chill hoar frost, with what glad sui-priso
What holy triumphs of exulting faith
He saw, fresh blooming in her withered arms,
A fair young babe, the heir of all his wealth,
For ever blending with that speechless joy
Which thrilled his soul when lirst a father's name
Fell on his ear, is that pale, placid brow
O'er which he weeps.

Yet had he seen it wear
Another semblance, tinged with hues of thought
Perchance, unlovely in that trial hour
When to sad Hagar's mute reproachful eyes
He answered nought, but on her shoulder bound
The cruse of water and the loaf, and sent
Her and her son unfriended wanderers forth
Into the wilderness.

Say, who can mourn
Over the smitten idol, by long years
Cemented wiih his being, yet perceive
No dark remembrance that he fain would blot,
Troubling the tear ? If there were no kind deed

■li

Omitted, no sweet healing word of love
Expected yet unspoken ; no sharp tone,
That jarred discordant on the quivering nerve.
For which the weeper fain would rend the tomb
To cry, " Forgive ! " oh ! let him kneel and praise
God, amid all his grief.

We may not say
If aught of penitence was in the pang
That rung his laboring bi'east, while o'er the dust
Of Sarah, at Machpelah's watery tomb,
The proud and princely Abraham bowed him down
A mourning stranger, 'mid the sons of Heth.

iii i

THE REPENTANCE OF ESAU.

The eastern moon rose broad and red

Against the Western Sun ;
The fring'd palm higher raia'd its head.

The day's fierce reign was done.

The Patriarch's tent stood cool and white

And dark the shade it threw,
While dim and far and lost in night

The sands drank in the dew.

■^ A vaguely solemn, silent scene.
Round Sheba's Valley slept ;
When from the tent's white folds between,
A voice of one who wept.

The cry throughout the valley past

Contrition and despair,
" One Blessing Father, all thou hast I

None left for me ! thine heir I "

The- palm trees wav'd, the moon rose high»

The misty desert spread.
How could be check'd by mortals cry

Nature's majestic tread?

The night absorb'd the transient sound,.

No rock gave back the sigh,
All unresponsive was around,

To faail man's agony.

Oh nature I cruel to thy child I

How many a bitter pain,
Since that lone cry upon the wild

Hath sought thy breast in vain !

One blessing only, Mother Earth!

Can no hot tears efface ?
Is all Remorse but nothing worth

Past errors to retrace ?

No I Nature's Laws cannot reverse

For man's inconstant mind,
And one must reap the whirlwind curse

If one have sown the wind.

One blessing and forever gone I

Oh dreary coming years 1
Inexorable world roll on I

Thou canst not stay for tears I

Yet far beyond earth's utmost zone

The King of Kings most high,
And all the Angels round His Throne

Catch each remorseful sigh ;

There the Repentant need not stand

In sorrow all in vain,
That in his Heavenly Father's Hand

iTo blessings still remain.

For there are "many Mansions " fair
And Joys beyond our thought,

Such as ne'er fill'd the raptur'd ear
Nor trained eye hath caught.

Then "lift the drooping hands " once more

And " bend the feeble knees "
To Him who only can restore,

And ev'ry grief appease.

JACOB'S DREAM.

The sun was sinking on the mountain zone
That guard thy vales of beauty, Palestine I
And lovely from the desert rose the moon
Tet lingering on the horizon's purple line,

it';

111!

i I

! I I!
, "I

Like a pure spirit o'er its earthly shrine.

Up Padan-aram's lieight abrupt and hare

A pilgrim toil'd, and ot't on day's decline

Lookd pale, then paused for eve's delicious air ;

Thd summit gain'd, he knelt and breathed his evening prayer^

He spread his cloak and slumber'd — darkness fell
Upon the twilight hills ; a sudden sound
Of silver trumpets o'er him seem'd to swell ;
Clouds heavy with the tempest gather'd round j
Yet was the whirlwind in its caverns bound :
Still deeper roll'd the darkness from on high,
Gigantic volume upon volume wound,
Above, a pillar shooting to the sky,
Below, a mighty sea, that spread incessantly.

Voices are heard — a choir of golden strings,
Low winds, whose breath is loaded with the rose,
Then chariot- wheels — the nearer rush of wings |
Pale lightning round the dark pavilion glows.
It thunders — the resplendent gates unclose :
Far as the eye can glance, on height o'er height,
Rise tiery waving wings, and star-crown'd brows,
Millions on millions, brighter and more bright,
Till all is lost in one supreme, unmingled light.

But, two beside the sleeping pilgrim stand,
Like cherub-kings, with lifted, mighty plume,
Fix'd, sun-bright eyes, and looks of high command ;
They tell the patriarch of his glorious doom ;
Father of countless myriads that shall come.
Sweeping the land like billows of the sea,
Bright as the stars of heaven from twilight's gloom,
Till He is given whom angels long to see,
And Israel's splendid line is crown'd with Deity.

I III!;

■|i;

JACOB WRESTLING WITH THE ANGEL.

Come, O Thou traveller unknown.
Whom still I hold, but cannot see 5
My company before is gone,
And I am left alone with Thee :
With Thee all night I mean to stay,
And wrestle till the break of day.

I need not tell Thee wlio I am j
My misery and sin declare :
Thyself hast ctilled me by my name ;
Look on Thy hands, and read it there :
But who, I ask Thee, who art Thou ?
Tell me Thy name, and tell me now.

In vain Thou strugglest to get free,
I never will unloose my hold ;
Art Thou the Man that died for me ?
The secret of Thy love unfold :
Wrestling, I will not let Thee go,
Till I Thy name. Thy nature know.

Wilt Thou not yet to me reveal
Thy new, unutterable name ?
Tell me, I still beseech Thee, tell ?
To know it now, resolved I am :
Wrestling, I will not let Thee go,
Till I Thy name. Thy nature know.

What though my shrinking flesh complain^

And murmur to contend so long ?

I rise superior to my pain :

When I am weak, then I am strong.

And when my all of strength shall fail,

I shall with the God-man prevail.

II.

Yield to me now, for I nm weak,
But confident in sell df air,
Speak to my heart, in lossings speak;
Be conquer'd by my instant prayer :
Speak, or Thou never hence shalt move.
And tell me if Thy name be Love.

'Tis Love! — 'tis Level Thou diedst for mej

I hear Thy whisper in my heart :

The morning breaks, the shadows flee;

Pure, Universal Love, Thou art :

To me, to all. Thy bowels nova;

Thy nature and Thy name is Love.

My prayer hath power with God ; the giaoe
Unspeakable I now receive ;
Through faith I see Thee face to face ;
I see Thee face to face, and live ;
In vain I have not wept and strove ;
Thy nature and Thy name la Love.

mm:

I'i,

I know Thee, Saviour, who Thou art,
Jesus, the feeble sinner's Friend :
Nor wilt Thou with the night depart,
But stay and love me to the end :
Thy mercies never shall remove ;
Thy nature and Thy name is Love.

The Sun of Righteousness on me
Hath risen, with healing on His wings ;
Wither'd my nature's strength ; from Thee
My soul its life and succor brings ;
My help is all laid up above ;
Thy nature and Thy name is Love.

Contented now upon my thigh
I halt, till life's short journey end;
All helplessness, all weakness, I
On Thee alone for strength depend ;
Nor have I power from Thee to move :
Thy nature and Thy name is Love.

Lame as I am, I take the prey ;

Hell, earth, and sin, with ease o'ercome ;

I leap for joy, pursue my way.

And, as a bounding hart, liy home ;

Through all eternity, to prove

Thy nature and Thy name is Love.

THE BUIUAL OF JACOB.

I . I III!

^i'iil' ;

I ! ' t ;

l!)» .*!

It is a solemn cavalcade, and slow,

That comes from Egypt ; never had the land.

Save when a Pharaoh died, sucli pomp of woe
Beheld ; never was bier by such a band
Of princely mourners followed, and the grand

Gloom of that strange funereal armament

Saddened the wondering cities as it went.

In Goshen he had died, that region fair
Wliich stretches east from Nilus to the wave

Of the great Gulf; and since he could not bear
To lay his ashes in an alien grave,
Uo chai'ged his sons to bear him to the cave

Where slumbered all his kin. that from liie's cares

And weariness his dust might rest witli theirs.

^^r

For >eventy days through Egypt ran the cry
Oi woe, for Joseph wept: and now there came

Along with him the rank and chivalry

Of Pharaoh's court, — the flower of Egypt's fame;
High captains, chief estates, and lords of name,

The prince, the priest, the warrior, and the sage,

Made haste to join in that sad pilgrimage.

The hoary elders in their robes of state

Were there, and sceptred judges ; and the sight

Of their pavilions pitched without the gate

Was })leasant ; chariots with their trappings bright
Stood round, — till all were met, and every rite

Was paif I ; — then at a signal the array

Moved with a heavy spendour on its way.

Its very gloom was gorgeous ; and the sound
Of brazen chariots, and the measured feet

Of stately pacing steeds upon the ground,

Seemed, by its dead and dull monotonous beat,
A burden to that march of sorrow meet ;

With music Pharaoh's minstrels would have come

Had Joseph wished, — 'twas better they were dumb.

They pass by many a town then famed or feared,
But quite forgotten now ; and over ground

Then waste, on which in after time were reuied
Cities whose names were of familiar sound
For centuries, — Bubastus, and reuowned

Pelusium, whose glories in decay

Gorged the lean desert with a splendid prey.

Tlie fiery sons of Ishmael, as they scour
The stony glens of Paran with their hor<lo.s.

Watch their array afar, but dread their pnwor ;
Here first against mankind they drew their swords
In open warfare ; as the native lords

Of the wild region held their free career.

And fenced the desert with the Arab spear.

But unmolested now the mourners i)iiss,
Till distant trees, like signs ot land, appear.

And pleasantly they feel the yielding grass
Beneath their feet, and in the morning clear
They see with joy the hills of Caniwin near ;

The camels scent the freshness of tlie wells,

Far hidden in the depth of leafy dells.

At length they reach a valley opening fair

With harvest field and homestead in the sweep
Of olive-sprinkled hills, where they prepare

,t fll

The solemn closing obsequies to keep ;

For an appointed time they rest, and weep
With ceaseless lamenUition, and the land
Kings with a grief it cannot understand.

The rites thus duly paid, they onward went
Across the eastern hills, and rested not

Till, slowly winding up the last ascent,
They see the walls of Hebron, and the spot
To him they bore so dear and unforgot,

Where the dark cypress and the sycamore

Weave their deep shadows round the rock-hewn door.

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Now Jacob rests where all his kindred are, —
The exile from the land in which of old

His fathers lived and died, he comes from far
To mix his ashes with their mortal mould.
There where he stood with Esau, in the cold

Dim passage of the vault, with holy trust

His sons L'ly down the venei-able dus^t.

"They laid him close by Leah, where she sleeps
Far from her Syrian home, and never knows

That Keuben kneels beside her feet and weeps,
Nor glance of kindly recognition throws
Upon her stately sons i'rom that repose ;

His Eachel rests iarsuudered from his side,

Upon the way to Bethlehem, where she died.

Sleep on, O weary saint! thy bed is bless'd;

Thou, with the pilgrim staff of faith, hast pass'd-

Another Jordan into endless rest :

Well may they sleep who can serenely cast
A look behind, while darkness closes fast

Upon their i^ath, and breathe thy parting word,— >•

"For Thy salvation I have wait- 1, Lordi"

ft ii

THE FINDINa OF MOSES.

ShO'W glides the Nile ; amid the margin flags,
Closed in a bulrush ark, the babe is left, —
Left by a mother's hand. His sister waits
Fur otf ; and pale, 'tween hope and fear, beholds-
The royal maid surrounded by her train.
Approach the river bank, — approach the spot

Wlipre sleeps the innocent: she sees thpm stoop

With meeting plumes ; the rushy lid is ope'd

And wakes the infant smiling in his tears,

As when along a little mountain lake,

The summer south wind breathes, with gentle sigh,

And parts the reeds, unveilmg as they bend,

A water-lily floating on the wave.

JOCHEBED'S SOLILOQUY.

' I've nlmopt reach'd the place — with cautious steps

' I must approach ihe spot where he is laid,

' Lest from the royal gnrdens any see me.

' Poor babe ! ere this, the pressing calls of hunger

'Have broke thy short repose ; the ohilling waves,

' Ere this, have drench'd thy little shivering limbs.

' What must my babe hive suffered — No one sees mo,

' But soft, does no one listen ! Ah ! how hard,

' How very hard for fondness to be prudent !

' Now is the moment to embrace and feed him.

* Where's Miriam, she has left her little charge,

' Perhaps through fear ; perhaps she was detectf-d.

' How wild is thought ? how terrible if conjecture I

' A mother's fondness frames a thousand fears,

< With thrilling nerve feels every real ill,

' And shapes imagined miseries into being.

' Ah me I Where is he? soul distracting sight I

' He is not there — he's lost, he's gone, he's drown'd I

' Toss'd by each beating surge my infant floats.

' Cold, cold, and watery is thy grave, my child 1

< Oh no — I see the nrk — Transporting sight !
' I have it here. Alas, the ark is empty I

' The casket's left, the precious gem is gone I
' You spared him, pitying spirits of the deep
' But vain your mercy; some insatiate beast,
' Cruel as Pharaoh, took the life you spared —
' And I shall never, never see my boy I "

THE SEVENTH PLAGUE OF EGYPT.

;

.III

l!t» If I,

*TwA8 mom — the rising splendor rolled

On marble towers and roofs of gold ;

Hall, court and galleiy, below,

Were crowded with a living flow;

Egyptian, Arab, Nubian, there, —

The bearers of the bow and spear,

The hoary priest, the Chaldue sage,

The slave, the gemm'd and glittering page —

Helm, turban and tiara, shone

A dazzling ring round Pharaoh's throne.

There came a man — the human tide
Shrank backward from his stately stride :
His cheek with storm and tide was tanned ;
A shepherd's staff was in is hand ;
A shudder of instinctive fear
Told the dark king what step was near;
On through the host the stranger came.
It parted round his form like flame.

He stooped not at the foot-stool stone,

He clasped not sandal, kissed not throne ;

Erect fcc stood amid the ring.

His only words — "Be just, O King!"

On Pharaoh's cheek the blood flushed high,

A fire was in his sullen eye ;

Yet on the chief of Israel

No arrow of his thousands fell ;

All mute and moveless as the grave

Stood chilled the satrap and the slave.

" Thou'rt come," at length the monarch spoke,

Haughty and high the words outbroke :

" Is Israel weary of its lair,

The forehead peeled, the shoulder bare ?

Take back the answer to your ban<^ :

Go, reap the wind ! go, plough the and.

Go, vilest of the living vile.

To build the never ending pile,

Till, darkest of the nameless dead,

The vulture on their flesh is fed I

What better asks the howling slave

Than the base life our bounty gave ? "

Shouted in pride the turban'd peers
Unclasp'd to heaven the golden spears.

" King ! thou and thine are doomed ! — Behold
The prophet spoke — the thunder rolled 1
Alone the pathway of the sun
Sailed vapory mountains, wild and dun.
" Yet there is time," the prophet said :
He raised his "tafF— the storm was stayed :
" King I be tho word of freedom given ;
What art thou, man, to war with Heaven ?"

>»

There came no word — the thunder broke I

Like a huge city's final smoke ; —

Thick, lurid, stifling, mixed with flame.

Through court and hall tb« vapours came

Loose as the stubble in the field.

Wide flew the men of spear and shield j

Scattered like foam along the wave.

Flew the proud pageant, prince ana slave .

Or, in the chains of terror bound.

Lay, corpse-like, on the smouldering grotmd.

" Speak, King ! — the wrath is but begun 1 —

Still dumb ? — then. Heaven, thy will be done !"

Echoed from earth a hollow roar

Like ocean on the midnight shore I

A sheet of lightning o'er them wheeled,

The solid ground beneath them reeled ;

In dusk sank roof and battlement ;

Like webs the giant walls were rent ;

Bed, broad, before his startled gaze

The monarch saw his Egypt blaze.

Still swelled the plague — the flame grew paid

Burst from the clouds the charge of hail

With arrowy keenness, iron weight,

Down poured the ministers of fate ;

Till man and cattle, crushed, congealed,

Covered with death the boundless field.

Still swelled the plague — uprose the blast,
The avenger fit to be the lost :
On ocean, river, forest, vale,
Thunder'd at once the mighty gale.
Before the whirlwind flew the tree,
leneath the whirlwind roar'd the sea,
A thousand ships were on the wave : —
Where are they ? — ask that foaming grave
Down go the hope, the pride of years,
Down go the myriad mariners ;
The riches of earth's richest zone
Gone 1 like a flash of lightning, gono !

And, lo ! thfit first fierce triumph o'er,
Swells ocean on the shrinking shore ;
Still onwjird, on\v;iril, dark and wide,
Engulfs the Innd the furious tide.
Then bowed thy spirit, stubborn king,
Thou serpent reft of fang and sting ;
Humbled before the proj)het's knee,
lie groaned, <' Be injured Israel free I"

To heaven the sage upraised his wand ;
Buck rolled the deluge from the land ;
Back to its caverns sank the gale ;
Fled from the noon the vapors pale ;
Broad burned again the joyous sun :
The hour of wrath and death was done.

THE FIRST-BOUN OF EGYPT.

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Whex life is forgot, and night hath power.

And mortals feel no diead,
When silence and slumber rule the hour.

And dreams {>.re round the heul ;
God shall smite the first born of Egypt's race ;
The destroyer shall ent'^r each dwelling place —

Shall enter and choose his dead.

" To your homes," said the leader of Israel's host,

" And slaughter a sacrifice :
" Let the life blood be spiinkled on each door-post,

" Nor stir till the morning arise :
And the angel of vengeance shall past you by,
" lie shall .-^ee the red stain, and shall not come nigh,

" Where the hope of your household lies. "

The people hear, and they bow them low —

Each to his house h ith flown :
The lamb is slain, and with b'ood they go,

And sprinkle the lintel stone ;
And the doors they close when the sun hath set,
But few in oblivious sleep forget

The judgment to be done.

'Tis midniglit— yet they hear no sound

Along the lone still .street ;
No blast of petilence sweeps the ground,

No tramp of unearthly feet j

H'or rush as of harpy wing goes br.
But the calm moon floats on the cloudless sky.
'Mid her wan light clear and sweet.

Once only, shot like an arrowy ray,

A pale blue flash was seen,
It pass'd so swift, the eye scarce could say

That such a thing had been :
Yet the brat of every heart was still.
And the flesh crawled fearfully and chill.

And back flowed everj' vein.

The courage of Israel's bravest quafl'd

At the view of that awful light.
Though knowing the blood of their off*ring avail'd

To shield them from its might :
They felt 'twas the Spirit of Death hid past,
That the brightness they saw, his cold glance had n.iat

On Egypt's, land that night.

That his fearful eye had unwam d struck down,

In the darkness of the gr.ive.
The hope of that empire, the pride of its crown,

The tirst-born of lord and slave : —
The lovely, the tender, the ardent, the gay :
Where are they ? — all wither'd in ashes away^

At the terrible death-glare it gave.

From the couches of slumber ten thousand cries
Burst forth 'mid the silence of dread —

Tlie youth by his living brother lies,
Sightless, and dumb, and dead !

The infant lies cold at his mother « breast :

Hhe had kissed him alive, as she sank to rest j
She awakens — his life hath fled.

.And shrieks from the palace-chambers break —

Their inmates are steeped in woe.
And Pharaoh has found his arm too weak

To arrest the mighty Mow :
Wail, king of the Pyramids ! Egypt's throne
Cannot lighten thy heart of a single groan,

For thy kingdom's heir laid low.

Wail, king of the Pyrami<l>; I Death hath cast

His shafts through thine empire wide.
But o'er Israel in bondage his rage hath past,

No first-born of her's hath died —
Go, Satrap I command that the captive be fr»e,
Jjest their God in flerce anger should smite even thee,

On the crown of thy purple pride.

THE PASSAGE Or THE RED SEA.

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^ts!

M't-'!

J 'ill, :''i

Full many a coal-black tribe and cany spear,
The hireling guaixis of Misraim's throne, were there.
From distant Cush they trooped, a warrior train,
Sirvah's green isle and Sennaar's marly plain :
On either wing their liery coursers check
The parched and sinewy sons of Amalek :
While close behind, inured to feast on blood,
Deck'd in Behemoth's spoils, the tall Shangalla strode.
'Mid blazing helms and bucklers rough with gold,
Saw ye how swift the scythed chariots rolled ?
Lo, these are they, whom, lords of Afric's fates,
Old Thebes had poured through all her hundred gates,
Mother of armies 1 — How the emeralds glowed.
Where, flushed with power and vengeance, Pharaoh rode t
And stoled in white, those brazen wheels before,
Osiris' ark his swarthy wizards bore ;
And, still responsive to the trumpet's cry.
The priestly sistrum murmured — Victory ! —
Why swell these shouts that rend the desert's gloom ?
Why come ye forth to combat ? warriors, whom ?
These flocks and herds, this faint and weary tr.iin
Red from the scourge, and recent from the chain ?
God of the poor, the poor and friendless pave 1
Giver and Lord of freedom, help the slave 1
North, south, and west, the sandy whirlwinds fly,
The circling horns of Egypt's chivalry.
On earth's last margin throng the weeping train :
Their cloudy guide moves on, ''and must we swin the ai':»in?"
'Mid the light spray their snorting camels stood,
Nor bathed a fetlock in the nauseous flood.
He comes, their leader comes I the man of, God,
O'er the wide waters lifts his mighty rod,
And onward treads : the circling waves retreat,
In hoarse, deep murmurs, from his holy feetj
And the chased surges, inly roaring, show
The hard wet sand and coral hills below.

With limbs that falter and with hearts that swell,
Down, down they pass a steep and slippery dell,
Around them rise, in pristine chaos hurl'd.
The ancient rocks, the secrets of the world ;
And flowers that blush beneath the ocean green.
And caves, the sea-calves' low-roofed haunt are seen. -
Down, safely down the narrow pass they tread j
The beetling waters storm above their head :
While far behind retires the sinking day.
And fades on Edom's hills its latest ray.

Yet not from Israel fled the friendly light,
Or dark to them, or cheerless, came the night.
Still in their van, along that dreadful road,
Blazed broad and fierce the brandished sword of God.
Its meteor glare a tenfold lustre gave, ,

On the long mirror of the rosy wave :
While its blest beams a sunlike heat supply,
Warm every cheek, and dance in every eye.
To them alone, for Mlsraim's wizard train
Invoke for light their monster- gods in vain :
Clouds heaped on clouds their struggling sight confine,
And tenfold darkness broods above their line.
Yet on they fare, by reckless vengeance led,
And range unconscious through the ocean's bed,
Till midway now, that strange and fiery form
Showed his dread visage, lightening through the storm :
With withering splendour blasted all their might,
And brake their chariot-wheels, and marred their courser's

flight.
" Fly, Misraim, fly ! " The ravenous floods they see,
And fiercer than the floods, the Deity.
" Fly, Misraim, fly ! " From Edom's coral strand
Again the Prophet stretched his dreadful wand :
With one wild crash the thundering waters sweep.
And all is waves, a dark and lonely deep —
Yet o'er these lonely waves such murmurs past.
As mortal wailing swelled the nightly blast :
And strange and sad, the whispering surges boro
The groans of Egypt to Arabia's shore.

Oh ! welcome came the morn, where Israel stood
In trustless wonder by the avenging flood !
Oh ! welcome came the cheerful morn, to show
The drifted wreck of Zoan's pride below 5
The mangled limbs of men, the broken car,
A few sad relics of a nation's war :
Alas, how few ! Then soft as Elim's well.
The precious tears of new-born freedom fell.
And he, whose hardened heart alike had borne
The house of bondage, and the oppressor's scorn,
The sta'oborn slave, by hope's new beams subdued,
In i'niN'i'ixg accents sobbed his gratitude —
Till, k-; d!'ng into warmer zeal, around
The vi .-t! i timbrel waked its silver sound :
And in horce joy no more by doubt supprest,
The struggling spirit throbbed in Miriam's breast.
She, with bare arms, and fixing on the sky
The dark transparence of her lucid eye,
Poured on the winds of heaven her wild sweet harmony.
" Where now," she sang, " the tall Egyptian spear ?
" On's sunlike shield, and Zoan's chariot, where ?
" Above their ranks the whelming waters spread.

1.1

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^' Shout, Israel, for the Lord hath triumphed !
And every pause between, as Miriam pang,
Fiom tribe to tribe the martial thunder rang
And loud and far their stormy chorus spread,
" iShout, Israel, for the Lord hath triumphed 1 "

'6 >

I' :

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THE SONG OF MIRIAM.

Hakk to the sound of the timbrel,

By 'he side of Egypt's waters ;
'Tis the song and the dance of triumph,

Of Israel's daik eyed daughters :
O'er many a nerk so swan like,

The loose black locks are flowing j
And many a lip is smiling,

And many a cheek is glowing ;
And those dark eyes are beaming,

And those warm hearts are leaping ;
And those light forms are swimming,

The measured dance-step keeping :
And tfiis is the song,
As they sad along,
Miriam, Miriam leads the throng I

•*' Oh, sing to Jehovah ! who gloriously,

Hath triumphd, hith triumph'd, and no one but He j
Oh, sing ! for Jehovah, victoriously,

The horse and his rider hath sunk in the sea I "

Nov7 the heights of Pi hahiroth

Catch the echo softly beiting ;
Now the rocks of Baal zephon

Answer to the light retreating ;
Now across the sunny ocean,

Floats the music of soi't voices j
And above, the sky is cloudless,

As i'" Nature's self rejoices :
And tl.e song is sweetly sounding,

And the step is lightly twining.
And tho timbrel gaily ringing,

And the eye with pleasure shining.

*' Oh, sing to Ji^hovah ! who gloriously.

Hath triumph'd, hath triumph'd, and no one but Ue j
Oh. sing ! for Jehovah, victoriously.

The horse and his rider hath sunk in the seal "

BALAAM.

He waved his wand, dark spirits knew
That rod. Yet none obeyed its call j

And twice the mystic sign he drew,
And twice beheld them bootless all ;

Then knew, the seer, Jehovah's hand

And crushed the scroll, and broke the wand.

*' I feel Ilim like a burning fire —

When I would curse, my lips are dumb j

But from those lips, 'mid hate and ire
Unchecked the words of blessing come ;

They come — and on His people rest

A people by the curser blest :

I see them from the mountain top,
How fair their dwellings on the plain,

Like trees that crown the valley's slope,
Like waves that glitter on the main I

Strong, strong the lion slumbering there —

Who tirst shall rouse him from his lair ?

Crouch, Amelek I and thou, vain king 1
Crouch by thine altars — vainer still I

Hear ye the royal shouts that ring
From Israel's camp beneath the hill?

They have a God amidst their tents ;

Banner at once and battlements 1

A star shall break through yonder skies,
And beam on every nation's sight j

From yonder ranks a sceptre rise,
And bow the nations to its might:

I see their glorious strength afar —

All hail, mild sceptre I hail, bright starl

And who am I, for whom is flung
Aside the shrouding veil of time?

The seer whoso rebel soul is rung
By wrath, and prophesy, and crime :

The future as the past I see —

Woe, then, for Moab I woe for me."

On Peor's top the wizard stood.

Around him Moab's princes bowed ;

He bade — and altars streamed with blood
And incense wrapped him like a shroud,

But vain the rites of earth and hell —

He spake — a mastered oracle I

'/■

SISERA.

■m

" Wht comes he not ? why comes he not,

My brave and noble son ?
Why comes he not with his warlike men,

And the trophies his sword has won?
How slowly roll his chariot-wheels !

How weary is the day !
Pride of thy mother's lonely heart,

Why dost thou still delay?

He comes not yet ! will he never come

To gladden these heavy eyes,
That have watched and watched from morn till ca e.

And again till the sun did rise ?
Shall I greet no more his look of joy.

Nor hear his manly voice ?
Why comes he not with the spoils of war.

And the damsels of his choice? "

1
i

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an.

Years rushed along in th<?ir ceaseless course,

But Sisera came no more.
With his ''mighty men" and his captive maids,

As he oft had come before.
A woman's hand had done the deed

That laid a hero low ; —
A woman's heart had felt the grief

That childless mothers know.

JEPHTHAH.

Ebjoioe, ye tribes of Israel, the Lord was on your side,
Your tierce and daring enemies have fallen in their pride.
In vain the heathen strove against Jehovah's awful word.
For Ammon's proud presumptuous sons have perished by th»
sword.

From Aroer to Minnith and to Abel's fertile plain,
Of twenty noble cities the "mighty men " are slain;
Bejoice, thou son of Gilead, the Lord hath heard thy vow, —
Thy foes are crushed, thy fathers' sons before thy presence bow.

It is an hour of triumph to the warrior of his band,
An hour of stern rejoicing to all the chosen land,
When the conqueror of Ammon, the valiant of his race,
Beholds once more with well-earned joy his long-lost native
place.

But who is this advancing with gay attendant crowd ?

Oh ! Jephthah ! dost remember now the vow that thou hast

vowed ?
Why is thy face so ghastly pale ? why sinks thy noble head ?
Thy daughter'? blood must now atone for all that thou hast shed I

Honour and pomp and victory are all forgotten now,

Ani clouds of darkest anguish sweep across the father's brow,

He speaks — his words are words of death : he orders — is

obeyed —
And lonely mountains mourn the fate of Israel's queenly maid.

Rejoice, ye tribes of Israel, the Lord was on your side.

Your fierce, presumptuous enemies have fallen in their pride !

But, Jephthah, thou art childless now, lift up thy voice and

weep I
No sound of wailing can disturb thy daughter's dreamless sleep 1

JEPHTHAH'S DAUGHTER.

Since our Country, our God — oh, my sire I
Demand that thy daughter expire ;
Since thy triumph was bought by thy vow —
Strike the bosom that's bared for thee now I

And the voice of my mourning is o'er,
And the mountains behold me no moi'e :
If the hand that I love lay me low,
There cannot be pain in the blow 1

And of this, O my father ! be sure —

That the blood of thy child is as pure

As the blessing I beg ere it ilow,

And the last thought that soothes me below.

Though the virgins of Salem lament,
Be the judge and the hero unbent I
I have won tlie great battle for thee,
And my father and country are free '.

\l\

When this blood of thy giving hath gushd,
When the voice that thou lovest is huah'd,
Let my memory sdll be thy jjiide,
And forget not I smiled as I died 1

SAMSON'S LAMENT FOR THE
LOSS OF HIS SIGHT.

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If •'^- !:

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C Loss of sight, of thee I most complam !

iJlind among enemies, U worse than chains,

yDungeon, or beggary, or decrepit age !

Light, the prime work of God, to me's extinct,

And all her various objects of delight

Annulled, which might in part my grief have eased.

Inferior to the vilest now become

Of man or worm ; the vilest here excel me :

They creep, yet see ; I, dark in light, exposed

To daily fraud, contempt, abuse, and wrong,

Within doors, or without, still as a fool,

In power of others, never in my own ;

Scarce half I seem to live, dead more than half.

O dark, dark, dark, amid the blaze of noon,

Irrecoverably dark, total eclipse,

Without all hope of day I

O first created beam, and thou great Word,

Let there be light, and light was over all ;

Why am I thus bereaved thy prime decree ?

The sun to me is dark.

And silent as the moon,

When ihe deserts the night.

Hid in her vacant interlunar cave 1

Since light so necessary is to life,

And almost life itself, if it be true

That light is in the soul,

She all in every part ; why was the sight

To such a tender ball as the eye confined,

So obvious and so easy to be quenched ?

And not, as feeling, through all parts diffused,

That she might look, at will, through every pore ?

Then had I not been thus exiled from light,

As in the land of darkness, yet in light,

To live a liie half dead, a living death,

And buried ; but 0, yet more miserable 1

Myself my sepulchre, a moving grave I

Buried, yet not exempt

By privilege of death and burial

From worst of other evils, pains, and wrongs j.

But made hereby obnoxious more

To all the miseries of life,

Life in captivity.

HANNAH AND SAMUEL.

The rose was in rich bloom on Sharon's plain,
When a young mother, with her First-born thence
Went up to Zion ; for the boy was vow'd
Unto the temple service. By the hand
She led him, and her silent soul, the while.
Oft as the dewy laughter of his eye
Met her sweet serious glance, tejoic'd to think
That aught so pure, so beautiful, was hers,
To bring before her God.

So pass'd they on.
O'er Judah's hills ; and wheresoe'er the leaves
Of the broad sycamore made sounds at noon,
Like lulling raindrops or the olive-boughs.
With their cool dimness, cross" d the sultry blue
Of Syria's heaven, she paus'd that he might rest ;
Yet from her own meek eyelids chas'd the sleep
That weighed their dark fringe down, to sit and watch
The crimson deepening o'er his cheek's repose,
As at a red flower's he:irt : and where a fount
Lay, like a twilight star, midst palmy shades,
taking its banks green gems along the wild.
There too she linger' d, from the diamond wave
Drawing clear water for his rosy lips,
And softly parting clusters of jet curls,
To bathe his brow.

At last the Fane was reach'd^
The earth's One Sanctuary ; and rapture hush'd
Her bosom, as before her, thro' the day
It rose, a mountain of white marble, steep'd
In light like floating gold. — ^But when that hour
Waned to the farewell moment, when the boy
Lifted, through rainbow gle uning tears, his eye
Beseechingly to hers, and, half in lear,
Turn'd from the white-rob'd priest, and round her arm,
Clung e'en as ivy clings ; the deep spring- tide
Of nature then swell'd high ; and o'er her child
Bending, her soul brake forth in mingled rounds
Of weeping and sad song. — •' Alas I " she cried,

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" Alas, my boy ! thy gentle grasp is on me,
The bright tears quiver in thy pleading eyes,

And now fond th'^ughts arise,
And silver cords agaiw to earth have won me,
And like a vine thou claspest my full heart —

How shall I hence depart ?

How the lone paths retrace, where thou wert playing
So late along the mountain at my .side ?

And I, in joyous pride,
By every place of flowers my course delaying.
Wove, e'en as pearls, the lilies, round thy hair,

Beholding thee so fair !

And oh I the home whence thy bright smile hath parted I
Will it not seem as if the sunny day

Turn'd from its door away,
While, thro' its chambers wandering weary-hearted,
I languish for thy voice, which, past me still,

Went like a singing rill ?

Under the palm-trees, thou no more shalt meet me,
When from the fount ^.t evening I return,

With the full water-urn !
Nor will thy sleep's low, dove-like murmurs greet me,
As midst the silence of the stars I wake,

And watch for thy dear sake.

And thou, will slumber's dewy cloud fall round thee,
Without thy mother's hand to smooth thy bed ?

Wilt thou not vainly spread
Thine arms, when darkness as a veil hath wound thee,
To fold my neck ; and lift up, in thy fear,

A cry which none shall hear ?

What have I said, my child ? — will He not hear thee.
Who the young ravens heareth from their nest ?

Will He not guard thy rest.
And, in the hush of holy midnight near thee,
Breathe o'er thy soul, and hll its dreams with joy ?

Thou shalt sU ep soft, my boy !

I give thee to thy God ! — the God that gave thee,
A well-spring of deep gladness to my heart !

And precious as thou art.
And pure as dew of Hermon, He shall have thee.
My own, my beautiful, my undefiled !

And thou shalt be His child !

Therefore, farewell ! I go ; my soul may fail me,
As the stag panteth for the water-brooks,

Yearning for thy sweet looks !
But thou my Fir^t-bom I droop not nor bewail me^
Thou in the shadow of the Rock sIikU dwell,

The Kock of Strength— Farewell I "

THE CHILD SAMUEL.

H'JSHED was the evening hymn,

T le temple courts were dark ;

The lamp was burning dim

Before the sacred Ark,
When suddenly a voice divine
Kang through the silence of the shrine.

The old man moek and mild,

The priest of Israel slept ;

His watch the temple child,

The little Levite kept ;
And what from £li's sense was sealed^
The Lord to Hannah's son revealed.

O give me Samuel's ear,

The open ear, U Lord,

Alive and quick to hear

Each whisper of Thy word ;
Like him to answer at Thy call,
And so obey Thee first of all.

O give me Samuel's heart,
A lowly heart that waits,
Where in Tliy liouse Thou art.
Or watches at Thy gates ;
By day and night, a heart that still
Hoves at the breathing of Thy vvili,

O give me Samuel's mind,
A sweet, unmurmuring faith,
Obedient and resigned
To Thee in life and death ;
Tliat I may vend with child-like eyes.
Truths that are hidden from the wise.

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DAVID AND GOLIATH.

WnEV Israel's host in Elah's valley lay,
O'erwhelm'd with shame, and trembling with dismay.
They saw how fierce Goliath proudly trod
Before their ranks and braved the living God.

On Israel's ranks he cast a withering look,
And Elah's valley trembled as he spoke.

" Ye slaves of Saul, why thus in proud jiarade
Of martial threatening, stand your mnks arrayed ?
Tiiough high your vaults, and unsubdued your pride,
A single arm the contest miy decide.
Send forth the best and bravest of your hosts,
To prove in me what might Philistia boa^^ts ;
And if your champion fall beneath my hind,
Let Israel own Philistia's high comm uid :
But if his better arm the triumph gain,
Her yielding sons shall wear the victor's chain.
You, and your God who rulfs the cloudy sky,
Armies of Israel I this day defy I"

Through Israel's curdling veins cold horror ran, ;
And each sunk warrior felt no longer man :
One heart alone its wonted tire retains,
One heart alone the giant's threats disdains :
David, the last of Jesse's numerous race.
Deep in his bosom feels the dire disgrace,
That e'er a godless Philistine, so proud,
Uis single prowess thus should vaunt aloud.

Before his prince, magnanimous he stands,
And lifts the imploring eye and suppliant hands,
With modest grace to let him prove' the tight.
And die or conquer in his country's right.

The king and nobles with attention hung
To hear the aspirings of a mind so young,
But deem his darings, in the unequal strife,
Were but a fond and useless waste of life.

Then David thus : " As erst my flocks I kept,
Pale .shone the moonbeam, and the hamlet slept j
In that still hour a shaggy bear I spied
SnufF the night gale, and range the valley-side ;
He seized a lamb, — and by this hand he died.
And when a lion, made by hunger boUl,
From .lord m's swelling streams o'erleap'd the fold y.
The brindled tiavag3 in my hands I tore,

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Caught by Iho board, nnd crush'd liim in his gore.
The God thit saved me from the infuriate bcur
And fixmish'd lion still has power to spare ;
And something whispers, if the strife I meet,
Boon shall the boaster fall beneath my feet."

Moved by his words the king and chieftains yield ;
Jlii spirit laud, and arm him for the tield :
In royal mail his youthful limbs they dress'd,
The greaves, the corslet, shield, and threatening crest.

But ill those youthful limbs with arms accord.
And ill that hand can wield the imperial sword ;
Whence wisdom cautions — these to lay aside,
And choose the arms whose power he oft h id tried.
Straight in his hand the well-proved sling he took,
And in his scrip five pebbles from the brook ;
These all his earthly arms : — but o'er his he id,
Had Faith divine her sheltering fegis spreid.
tlis bosom beats with generous ardour high,
And new-born glories kindle in his eye ;
Swift o'er the field he bounds with vigour light,
Murks the gigantic foe, and claims the fight.

Now men of Israel, pour your ardent prayer :
" God of our fathers, to thy sovereign care
"We trust our champion, for to Thee belong
Strength for the weak, and weakness for the strong :
Arm him with might to vindicate Thy name,
To smite the proud, and blot out Israel's shame :
Let angels round him spread the guardian shield,
And oh ! restore in triumph from the field !"

Philistia's chief now mark'd with high disdain,
The lightarm'd stripling rushing to the plain ;
Saw, with a scornful smile his airy tread.
And downy cheek suffused with rosy red ;
His pliant limbs not cased in shining mail,
No shield to ward, no sabre to assail j
But clad like shopherd-swain, — when swains advance
To hand the fair, and frolic in the dance.
Fierce from his breast the growling thunder broke,
And Elah's valley trembled as he spoke.

" powerful Dagon ! wherefore was I born ?
Am I a dog ? — the theme of children's scorn ?
Cursed be thy God ! cursed thou presumptuous boy I
But come — draw nigh — and glut my furious joy.
Thy feeble body, crush'd beneath my power.
The birds shall mangle, and the dogs devoui."

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Then Jesse's son : — " Accoutred for the field,
Proudly thou marchest with thy spear and shield :
But I unarm'd, yet, rackless of thy boasts,
Approach, protected by the God of Hosts ;
That righteous power, whom thy infuriate pride,
With tongue blaspheming, has this day detied.
Me, of our race the humblest, has He sped.
From thy broad trunk to lop thy impious head,
A::d through thy armies wasting vengeance spread ;—
That all m »y know, through earths wide realms abroad,
To timt the righteous cause to Israel's God.
He saves not by the shield, by speirs, or swords : —
No more. — Advance — the battle is the Lord's."

With giant stride the lowering foe draws nigh,
Strength in his arm, and fuiy in his eye ;
In thought, already gives the ruthless wound,
And the scorn'd youth transfixes to the ground.
While David, rapid as the fleetest wing.
Whirls round his head the quick revolving sling j*
Aims with experienced eye, the avenging blow
At the broad visage of the advancing Toe. —
How booms the thong, impatient to be free,
Wing"d with resistless speed, and arm'd with destiny !—
'Tis gone— loud whizzing flies the ponderous stone ! —
That dirge of death — hark I heirdye D^gon groan ?
It strikes — it crashes through the fractured bone I
Struck in his full career, the giant feels
The bolt of death; — his mountt;m-,body reels —
Arid nerveless, headlong, thunders to the ground.—
Loud bursts of joy along the vale resound :
Shout ! men of Israel, shout — till earth and sky,
With replication loud, re echo victory 1
See, see him now, as flushoti with honest pride,
He draws the oabre from the giant's side :
Now on the groaning trunk behold him tread,
And from the shoulders lop the ghastly head i

Shout, men of Israel, shout your hero's praise!
St^nd i^ immortal down to future days !
Let farthest Dan his triumph loud proclaim
And Sheba's springs resound his glorious name ;
In Jesse's son, O Bethlehem I rejoice ;
And Silem, thou exalt thy grateful voice ;
Thy victor hail triumphant in the Lord ;
Girt with the grisly spoils, he waves the reeking swoi-d

Daughters of Israel, loud his praises sing I
With hirpimd timbrel hvil your future king.
By migthy Saul a thousand bite the plain.
But mightier David has ten thousand slain I

SAUL AND DAVID.

Debp was the furrow in the royal brow.

When David's hand, lightly as Temal gales

Rippling the brook of Kedron. Ekimmed the lyre;

lie sang of Jacob's youngest scn^ the child

Of his old age, sold to the Ishmaelite ;

His exaltation to the second power

In Pharaoh's realm ; his brethren thither sent ;

Suppliant they stood before his face — well known,

Unknowing — till Joseph lell upon the neck

Of Benjamin, his mother's son, and wept.

Unconsciously the warlike shepherd paused ;

But when he saw, down the yet quivering string.

The tear-drop trembling glide, aba^^hed. he checked,

Indignant at himself, the bursting >od,

And, with a sweep impetuous, struck the choi-ds.

From side to side hi^i hands traversely glance

Like lightning 'thwiirt a stormy sea-, his voice

Arises 'mid the clang, and straightway calms

The harmonious tempest to a solemn swell,

Majostical, triumphant, for he sings

Of Arad's mighty host by Israel's arms

Subdued; of Israel through the desert le^l

IIo sings ; of him who was their leader, called

By God Himself from keeping Jethro"s ik>ck

To be a ruler o'er the chosen race.

Kindles the eye of Saul : his arm is poised j —

llarmless the Javelin quivers in the wall.

SAUL IN THE CAVE OF ENGEDI.

Stat, stay, injurious king: oh, father stay,

If 1 may yet so style thee; why dost thou

Listen to those who say 1 am disloyal?

Lo, in tliis hour, and in this very cave,

liow easily could I have ta'en your life:

As so. no did bid mo do. but I refraine^l.

«' I will not harm," I said, " the LoMs .Anointed.''

In proof of which behold here your robe's skirt,

Which sole I took, yet could as easily

Have ta'en your life as it. Yes. look on thi*

Upbraiding proof; yes, look on this dumb iritn««s,

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fhen stand convicted of injustice toward me.

Believe, oh, cruel and suspicious king,

That since I took but this and spared your life, —

At last, believe me honest. Oh, my father,

"Why hast thou ever deemp' that I was other?

Why dost thou hunt me li .e a beast o' th' forest?

Let the Lord .jvHlge between us ; let the Lord

Be mine Avenger : for I will not harm thee.

Oh, that your majesty should have dread of me ! —

Have dread of one so poor and weak as I !

For what could 1 do (even were I so minded)

Against your mnjesty ? But I will nothing :

Let the Lord judge between us; let Him enquire;

Yes, let Him plead my cause still with your anger;

Let Him from it at length deliver me.

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SAUL AND THE WITCH OF ENDQR.

Thou, whose spell can raise the dead,

Bid tlie prophet's form appear —

" Samuel, raise thy buried head ! —

King, behold the phantom seer I"

Earth yawned ; ho stood, the centre of a cloud ;

Light changed its hue, returning from his shroud;

Death stood all glassy in his iixeil eye ;

His hand was withered and his veins were dry;

His foot, in bony whiteness, glittered there,

Shrunken and sinewless, and giiastly bare ;

F'rom lips that moved not, and uii breathing iram©>

Like caverned winds, the hollow accents came.

Saul saw, and fell to earth as falls the oak

At once when blasted by the thunder stroke.

" Why is my sleep disquieted?

Who is he that calls the dead ?

Is it thou — oh king? Behold

Bloodless are these limbs and cold:

Such are mine, and such shall be

Thine to morrow when with me ;

Ere the coming day is done,

Such shalt thou be, such thy son.

Fare thee well, but lor a day ;

Then wo mix our mouldering clay; —

Thou, tliy race, lie pale and low,

Pierced by shafts of many a bow ;

And the falchion by thy side

To thy heart thy hand shall guide:

Crown less, breathless, headless fall

Sou uud Sire, the Louse of Saul I "

THE THREE MIGHTY MEN

Ox the hill by Bethlehem David stood,

He and his warriors bold,
And their dark eyes flashed as they looked bolow,

For the Philistines held the hold.

But the hero laid aside the spear,

And sat him on the hill ;
And, looking on his native town,

Ilis eyes began to till.

lie thought of the happy evening hours

When, ere the sun went down,
The maidens, to the gushing well.

Passed through the ancient town.

And sighed, " Oh, would that I now could driiik

As in tliat happy state,
A draught from the well of Bethlehem

That is beside the gate I" ....

Tiien the three mighty men arose,

Adino the Tachmonite,
Elea/ar the son of Dodo,

And Shammah the Hararite ;

They spake not a word, but each seized his spenr,

And buckled his helmet on,
And the whole host watched their steps, till they

Adown the hill were gone.

But soon the smiting of swords was heard,

And the clash of spears arose,
Anci the three in the open gate appeared,

Begirt with Philistine foes.

They slew to the right and slow to the left,

And ever they slew before,
And backward through the bloody street

The struggling crowd they bore,

Until they came to the deep, deep well,

And there they turned and stayed ;
And wiping his sword on the bearded grass

Adino the Tachmonite said :

* Now stand ye two before the well.
And ti^ht the foe amain ;

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And I will let the bucket down
And di-aw it up again."

And so did he, and so did they,

And when the work was sped,
He took the spear in his good right hand,

And the pitcher on his head.

And then when the three looked down, and saw

The iron-girt array
Of Ekronites and Ashdodites,

That tilled the gleaming way.

They prayed to the God of Israel,

To gird their loins with might,
To clothe their swoi-ds with thunder,

And teach their hands to light.

There was many a noble warrior there.

From many an ancient town.
But of all the host could none hold his place.

When the three came rushing down :

They slew to the right, and they slew to the left.

And still they slew before,
And ever their shout " Immanu-El 1 "

Was heard through the battles' roar.

The shield and helm they split in twain,

And broke the bieast of mail,
And every blow of their falchions rang

Far o'er the Giants' Vale;

And many a lord of the Philistines

Was slain upon that day,
And Rephaim and Anakim

Lay trodden in the way j

Until through the uncircumcised

A bloody way they clave,
And hear the shout of victory

Their glad companions gave,

Until they brought to the spreading oak,

Where the son of Jess6 sate.
The drauglit from the well of JJethlehom

That is bcbido the gate i

King David took the pitcher

From brave Adino's hand,
But he saw on his lielm the deep dints made

By many a hostile brand ;

And he saw on tho arm of Shammob

Big gouts of blood appenr,
And he saw on Elcazai's breast

The cut of a brazen spear.

He took the water from his lips
And poured it whore he stood —

"Nay, God forbid that I should drink
Of water that's bought with blood I

These men have bought it with their life,
Have won it with their sword !

I will not drink it — it shall be
An offering to the Lord I "

DAVID'S LAMENTATION OVER
HIS SICK CHILD.

" Twas daybreak, and the fingers of the dawn

Drew the night's curtJiin, and touched silently

The eyelids of the king. And David woke

And robed himself, and prayed. The inmates, now

Of the vast palace were astir, and feet

Glided along the tesselated floors

With a pervading murmur, and the fount

Whose music had been all the night unheard,

Played as if light had made it audible :

And each one, waking, blessed it unaware.

The fragrant strife of sunshine with the morn
Sweetened the air to ecstasy ! and now
Tho king's wont was to lie upon his couch
Beneiith the sky-roof of the inner court.
Anil, shut in from the world, but not from heaven,
Play with his loved son by the fountain's lip ;
For, with idolatry coniossed alone —
To the rapt wires of his repi-ootless harp,
He loved the child of Bathsheba. And when
The golden selvedge of his robe was heard
Sweeping the marble pavement, from within
Broke forth a child's laugh suddenly, and words
Articulate, perhaps, to his heart only,
Pleading to come to iiim. Tlioy l)rought tho boy,
An infant cherub, leaping as if usetl
To hover with that motion upon wings,
And marvellously beautiful ! His brow
Had the inspued uplift of the king's,

III'

And kingly was hia infantine regard :
But his ripe mouth was of the ravishing mould
Of Bathsheba's — the hue and type of love,
llosy and passionate — and oh, the moist
Unfathomable blue of his large eyes
Gave out its light as tv/iiight shows a star,
And drew the heart of the beholder in I —
And this was like his mother.

David's lips
Moved with unuttered blessings, and awhile
lie closed the lids upon his moistened eyes.
And, with the round cheek of the nestling boy
Pressed to his bosom, sat as if afraid
That but the lifting of his lids might jar
His heart's cup from its fulness. Unobserved,
A servant of the outer court had knelt
Waiting before him ; and a cloud the while
Had rapidly spread o'er the summer heaven j
And, as the chill of the withdrawing sun
Fell on the king, he lifted up his eyes
And frowned upon the servant — for that hour
Was hallowed to his heart and his fair child.
And none might seek him. And the king arose.
And with a troubled countenance looked up
To the fast gathering darkness ; and, behold,,
The servant bowed himself to earth, and said,
" Nathan the prophet cometh from the Lord
And David's lips grew white, and with a clasp
Which wrung a murmur from the frighted child,
He drew him to his breast, and covered him
With the long foldings of his robe, and said,
" I will come forth. Go now !" And lingeringly,
With kisses on the fair uplifted brow.
And mingled words of tenderness and prayer
Breaking in tremulous accents from his lips.
He gave to them the child, and bowed his head
Upon his breast with agony. And so,
To hear the errand of the man of God,
He fearfully went forth

It was the morning of the seventh day.
A hush was in the palace, for all eyes
Had woke before the morn : and they who drew
The curtains to let in the welcome light.
Moved in their chambers with unslippered feet.
And listened breathlessly. And still no stir !
The sei-vants who kept watch without the door
Bat motionless ; the purple casement-shades
From the low windows had been rolled away,
To give the child air, and the flickering light
That, all the night, within the spacious court,

Had drawn the watchers' eyes to one spot onl/,
Paled with the sunrise and fted in.

'And hushed
With more than stillness was the room where lay
The king's son on his mother's breast. Ilis locka
Slept at the lips ofBathsheh-i unstirred —
So I'eart'uUy, with heart and pulse kept do\vn,
She watched his breathless slumber. The low moan
That from his lips all night broke fitfully,
Had silenced with the daybreak ; and a smile,
Or something that would fain have been a smile,
Pbyed in his parted mouth ; and though his lids
Hid not the blue of his unconscious eyes,
His senses seemed all peacefully asleep,
And Bathsheba in silence blessed the morn
Tliat brought back hope to her. But when the king
Heard not the voice of the comjilaining child,
Nor breath from out the room, nor foot astir — •
But morning there — so welcomeless and still — .
He groaned and turned upon his face. The nights
Had wasted, and the mornings come, and days
Crept through the sky, unnumbered by the king,
Since the child sickened ; and without the door,
Upon the bare earth pro.strate, he had lain,
L'stening only to the moons that brought
Taeir inarticulate tidings, and the voice
Of Bathsheba, whose pity and caress,
In loving utterance all broke with tears.
Spoke as his heart would speak if he were there,
And tilled his prayer with agony. Oh God I
To Thy bright mercy-seat the way is far I
How fail the weak words while the heart keeps on I
And when the spirit, mournfully, at last,
Kneels at the throne — how cold — how distantly
The comforting of friends falls on the ear ! —
The anguish they would speak to, gone to Thee !
But suddenly the watchers at the door
Rose up, and they who ministered within,
Crept to the threshold and looked earnestly
Where the k.'w.^ lay. And still, vhile Bathsheba
Held the unmoving child upon h^ r knees,
The curtains were let dowr and p. ll came forth,
And, gathering with fearfu. looks ipart,
Whispered together.

And the king arose
And gazed on them a moment, and with voice
Of quick, uncertain utterance, he asked,
<' Is the child dead? " They answered, " he is dead."
But when they looked to see him fail again
Upon his face and rend himself and weep—
For, while the child was sick, hisi agony

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Would bear no comforters, and they had thought
Ilia heartstrings with the tidings must give way-
Behold ! his face grew c vim, and, with his robe
Gathered together, Like his kingly wont,
Ue silently went in.

And David came,
Bobed and anointed, forth, and to the house
Of God went up to pray. And he returned,
And they set bread belbre him and he ate —
And when they marvelled, he said, " Where/or mourn}
The child is dead, and I shall go to him —
Bat he will not return to me."

ABSALOM.

The waters slept. Night's silvery veil hung low

On Jordan's bo.som, and t^e edilies curled

Their glassy rings beneath it, like the still

Unbroken beating of the sleeper's pulse.

The reeds bent down the stream : the willow-leaves,

With a soft cheek upon the lulling tide,

Forgot the lifting winds ; and the long stems,

Whose flowers the water, like a gentle nurse,

Bears on its bosom, quietly give way,

And leaned, in graceful attitudes, to rest.

H<jw strikingly the course of niture tells,

By its light heed of humm suffering.

That it was fasliioned for a happier world !

King David's limbs were weary. He had fled
From far Jerusalem : and now he stood,
With his faint people, for a little rest
Upon the shore of Jordan. The light wind
Of morn was stirring, and he bared his brow
To its refreshing bi-eith ; for he had worn
The mourner's covering, and he had not felt
That he could see his people until now.
They gathered round him on the fresh green bank.
And spoke their kindly words; and, as the sun
Rose up in heaven, he knelt among them there,
And bowed his head upon his hands to pray.
Oh I when the he;irt is full — when bitter thoughts
Come crowding thickly up for utterance.
And the poor common w ji ds of coiutesy
Are such a very mockery — how much
The bursting heart may pour itself in prayer I

He prayed for Israel ; and his voice went up

Strongly and fervently. He prayed for those

Whoae love hvl beea his shield ; and his deep tones

Grew tremulous. But oh ! for Absalom —

For his estranged, misguided Absalom —

The proud, bright being, wlio had burst away

In all his pi-incely beiuty, to defy

The heart that cherished him — for him he poured,

In agony that would not be controlled,

Strong supplication, and forgave him there,

Before his God, for his deep sinfulness.

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The pall was settled. He who slept beneath
Was straightened for the grave ; ai^d, as the folds
Sunk to the still proportions, they betrayed
The matchless symmetry of Absalom.
His hiir WIS yet unshorn, and silken curls
Were floating round :he tassels as they swayed
To the admitted air, as glossy now
As when in hours of gentle diUiance, bathing
The snowy fingers of J idea's girls.
His helm v/a3 at his foet : his banner, soiled
With trailing through Jerusalem, was laid
Rpversed, besiile him : and the jewelled hilt,
Whose di .monds lit the passage of his blade.
Rested, like mockery, on his covered brow.
The soluiero of the king trod to and fro,
Cad in the gub of battle ; and their chief.
The mighty Joah, stood be-»ide the bier,
And g ized upon the dark pall steadfastly,
As if he feared the slumberer might stir.
A slow step stiriled him. ir* grasped his blade
(Vs if a trumpet rang; but the bent form
(.U'Divid enleied, and he give command,
In a low tone to his few followers,
And left him with his dead. The King stood still
Till the last e>3ho died : then throwing off
The sack.iloth from his brow, and laying back
The pill from the still features of his child.
He bowed his he id upon him, and broke forth
In the resistless elocjuence of woe ! —
<' Alas ! niy noble boy! thit thou shoulilst die I

Thou, who wert m ide so be lutifuMy fair I
Tint death should settle in thy glorious eye,

Ami leave his stillness in this clustering ha-r
Ilow could he mark thee for the silen* tomb,

My proud boy, Absalom I

*^ Cold is thy brow, my son ! and I am chill,
As to my bosom I have tried to press thee,

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How was I wont to feel my pulses thrill,

Like a rich harp-string, yearning to caress thee,

And hear thy sweet ' My lather,^ from these dumb
And cold lips, Absalom !

"The grave hath won thee. I shall hear the gUbh
Of music, and the voices of the young ;

And life will pass me in the mantling blush,
And the dark tresses to the soft wind flung ;

But thou no more, with thy sweet voice, shalt come
To meet me, Absalom !

" And oh ! when I am stricken, and my heart,
Like a bruised reed, is waiting to be broken,

How will its love for thee, as I depart,
Yearn for thine ear to drink its last deep token I

It were so sweet, amid death's gathering gloom,
To see thee, Absalom I

" And now, farewell ! 'Tis hard to give thee up,
With death so like a gentle slumber on thee—

And thy dark sin ! — Oh I could drink the cup.
If from this woe its bitterness had won thee.

May God have called thee, like a wanderer, home^
My erring Absalom 1"

He covered up his face, and bowed himself
A moment on his child ; then, giving him
A look of melting tenderness^ he clasped
His hands convulsively, as if m prayer ;
And, as a strength were given him of God,
He rose up calmly and composed the pall
Firmly and decently, and left him there,
As if his rest had been a breathing sleep.

if.

TEMPLES.

How fair, in page of Hcly Writ, Judea's Temple stands f
'Twaa God himself who fashion' d it by means of mortal hands r
'Twas He conceiv'd the grand design — the gates — the massive

wall;
The outer courts — the inner shrine — the " Holiest of all."

Majestical it rose beneath the Master-builder's eye,

Aud soon, within its courts, the breath ofincenjieroseonhigh.

While priests, by altars stain'd with blood, were loud in prais&

and pray'r,
And over ail, Shedhinah stood to show that God was there.

That temple iharms no more the sight — its stones are prostrate

laid —
Its holy pomp, each solemn rite, were doom'd of old to fade :
They were but shadows of the things which Christians now

possess —
The grey of early dawn which brings the Sun of Righteousness.

But God, our God, h is Temples still, in which the faithful meet»-
To hear their loving Master's will, and hymn His praises sweet.-
'Tis there, their spirits seem to leave this world for one above^
Kb they the pledges sweet receive of Jesus' dying love.

ELIJAH'S INTERVIEW.

Ov lloreb's rock the prophet stood, —

The Lord before liim passed:
A hurricane in angry mood

Swept by him strong and fast;
The forest fell before its force.
The rocks were shivered in its course:

God was not in the blast ;
'Twas but tl. •! whirlwind of His breath,
Announcing ilanger, wreck, and death.

It ceased. The air grew mute, — a cloud

Came, muffling up the sun.
When, through the mountain, deep and loud-

An eartliquake thundered on ;
The frightened eagle sprang in air,
The wolf ran howling fi'om his lair j

God was not in the storm ;
'Twas b«it the rolling of His car,
The tramping of His steeds from far.

'Twas still again, — and Nature stood

And calmed her ruffled frame ;
When swift from heaven a fiery flood

To earth devouring came ;
Down to the depth the ocean fled, —
The sickening sun looked wan and dead :

Yet God tilled not the flame ;
'Twas but the terror of His eye,
That lightened through the troubled sky.

ill

^t last, a voice all still and small

liose sweetly on the ear j
Yet rose so shrill and clear, that all

In heaven and earth might hear;

It spoke of peace, it spoke of love,
It spoke as angels speak above :

And God himself was there ;
For, O I it was a Father's voice,
That bade the trembling heart rejoice.

Speak, gracious Lord, speak ever thus,

And let thy terrors prove
But harbingers of peace to us,

But heralds of thy love ;
Come through the earthquake, fire, and storm.
Come in thy mildest, sweetest form,

And all our fears remove :
One word from Thee is all we claim —
Be that one word a Saviour's name 1

ELISHA.

imn

\ 1^1

When the lowly follower of the plough

Received the highest call.
That man can hear in the world below,

He left his earthly all ;
And follow'd the steps of the man of God,

With a true and steadfast heart ;
Nor from his master, while eirth he tr. d,

Would the faithful servant part.

And noble was the gift he sought,

In the sad parting hour ;
A spirit with zeal for Jehovah fraught,

And endued with heavenly power.
So blessed to behold the glorious blaze

Of the chariot of fii e ;
Heard his ear some notes of heavenly praise,

As it fell from seraph lyre ?

None knows — but he read in the parting wave.

Of that power, the earnest true.
That should lead him on, till beyond the grave,

His master again he'd view :
And with spirit lifted above the world,

He to the warfare turned ;
£in's fair lures spread, or its fierce darts hurled.
Alike his armor spumed.

And the might of earthly kings and lords,

In the power of God defied ;
Never fear could hush his burning words,

Or make him turn aside.
Even when he wept o'er Israel's doom,

His spirit was calm within,
Knowing the Lion of Judah would come

And vanquish the serpent Sin.

Though the light of that glorious day afar

Never gladdened his mortal eyes ;
In his heart shone the beautiful Morning Star,

Illuminating faith's calm skies.
Through the waning night, and the weary strife,

lie was true to his solemn trust;
Till he won in Heaven a crown of life.

And his dust returned to dust.

We own the blessings he waited lor

With such unswerving faith ;
But still we wage the ceaseless war,

Nor rest our arms till death.
Though no visible army's dread array

Calls us from ease to part ;
There are ghostly foes that night and day

Assail the Clu'istian's heart.
But. praise to Christ, though lil'e be long,

When the vale of death we've trod.
We shall rest in bliss with the victor throng,

That surround the throne of God.

THE DESTRUCTION OF SENNACIIERIi;

The Assyrian came down like the wolf on the fold,
And his cohorts were gleaming in purple and gold;
And the sheen of their spears was like stars on the sea,
When the blue wave rolls nightly on deep Galilee.
Like the leaves of the forest when Summer is green.
That host with their banners at sunset were seen :
Like the leaves of the forest when Autumn hath blown,
That host on the morrow lay withered and strown.

For the Angel of Death spread his wings on the blast,
And breathed in the face of the foe as he passed ;
5

And the eyes of the sleepers wax^d deadly and chill,
And their hearts but once heaved, and for ever grew still f
And there lay the steed with his nostril all wide,
But through it there rolled not the breath of his pride,
And the foam of his gasping lay white on the turf,
And cold as the spray of the rock-beating surf.

And th'';re lay the rider distorted and pale,

With the dew on his brow, and the rust on his mail,

And the tents were all silent, the banners alone,

Tho lunces unliftcd, the trumpet unblown.

And the widows of Ashur are loud in their wail,

And the idols are broke in the temple of Baal ;

And the might of the (lentile, unsmote by the sword.

Hath melted like snow in the glance of the Lord 1

CHORAL HYMN OF THE JEWISH
MAIDENS.

King of kings ! and Lord of lords I
Tlius we move, our sad steps timing,
To our cymbal's feeblest chiming
Where Thy house its rest accords.
Chased and wounded birds are we,
Through the .lark air tied to Thee ;
To the shadow of Thy wings,
Lord of lords ! and King of kings I

Behold. O Lord 1 the heathen iread
The branches of thy fruitful vine.
That its luxurious tendrils spread

O'er all the hills of Palestine.
And now the wild boar comes to wast*
Even us, the greenest bough and last
That, drinking of Thy choicest dew,
On Zion's hill in beauty grew.

No ! by the marvels of Thine haiul.
Thou Btill wilt save Thy chosen land ;
By all Thy ancient mercies shown,
By all our fathers' fots o'erthrowu;
By the Egypti m's car-borne host.
Scattered on the Uod Sea co ist ;
By that wide and bloodless shu ghtev
Underneath the drowning "'.ter.

Like us in utter helplessness,

In their last and worst dit^tress,— -

On the ^and and sea weed lying,
Israel poured her doleful eighin? ;
While before the deep sea flowcU,
And behind fierce Egypt rode —
To their lathers' God they prayed.
To the Lord of Hosts for aid.

On the marf In of the flood

With lifted rod the prophet stood ;

Anil the summoned east wind blew,

And aside it ftornly threw

The gathered waves, that took their stand.

Like crystal rocks, on either hand;

Or Willis of sea-green marble piled,

Kound some irregular city wild.

Then the light of morning lay,
On the wonder-paved way,
Where the treasures of the deep
In their caves of coral sleep.
The profound abysses,, where
Was never sound from upper air.
Rung with Israel's chanted words.
" King of kings ! and Lord of lords !"

Then with bow ami banner glancing,

On exulting Egypt came,
With her chosen horsemen prancing,

And her oars on wheels of flame-,
In a rich and boastfi 1 ring
All arouiul her furious king.
But the Lord from out His cloud.
The Ixjri looked down upon the proud;
And the host drave heavily
Down the deep bosom of the sea.

With a quick and sudden swell

Prone the liquid ramparts fell ;

Over horse and over car.

Over every man of war.

Over rharaoli's crown of goM,

The loud thundering billows rolled.

As the level waters spread,

Down they sank, thoy sank like le^i<4,

Down without a cry or groan.

And the morning sun th.it shone

On myriads of bright arin^ men,

Its meridian radiance then

Cast on a wide sea heaving a^ of yorm.

Against u silent, bolitary shoro.

Then did Israel's maidens sing.

Then did Israel's trimbrels ring,

To Him, the King of kings ! that in the sea,

The Lord of lords I hod triumphed gloriously.

And our timbrels' flashing chords,

King of kings ! and Lord of lords 1

Shall they not attundd be.

Once again to victory !

Lo I a glorious triumph now

Lo ! against Thy people come
A mightier Pharaoh ! wilt not Thou

Craze the chariot- wheels of Rome ?
Will not, like the Red Sea wave,

Thy stern anger overthrow ?
And from worse than bondage save,

From sadder than Egyptian woe,
Those whose silver cymbals glance,
Those who lead the suppliant dance ;
Thy race, the only nice that sings
'' Lord of lords ! uud King of kings I "

JERUSALEM.

Fallen is thy throne, O Israeli

Silence is o'er thy plains!
Thy dwellinas all lie desolate,

Thy childj-en weep in chains.
Where are the dews that fed tliee

On Ethiim's barren Hhore ?
That fire from heaven tliat led thee

Now lights thy path no more I

Lord, thou didst love Jerusalem }

Once she was all thine own :
Her love thy fairest heritiigo.

Her power thy glory's throne;
Till evil came and blighted

Thy long-loved olive tree.
And Salem's shrines were lightod

For other godu than Thee.

Then sank the star of Solyma,
Then pass'd her glory's tiny.

Like heath that in the wildern«M
Tlje light wind whirls away.

Silent and waste her bowers,

Where on(;e the mighty trod.
And sunk those guilty towere
Where Baal reign'd as God.

«Go!" said the Ijord, "ye conquerors,

Steep in her blood your swords,
And raze to earth her battlements,

For they are not the Lord's.
Tell Zion's mournful daughter

O'er kindred bones she'll tread,
And Ilinnom's vale of slaughter

iShall hide but half her dead."

But soon shall other pictured scenes

In brighter vision rise,
When Zion's sttn shall sevenfold shine

On all her Uiourners' eyes;
And on her m'""i tains beauteous stand

The messenj:. of peace ;
"Salvation by the Lord's right hand,"

They shout and never cease.

PALESTINE.

Reft of thy sons, amid thy foes forlorn,

Mourn, widow'd queen ! forgotten Zion, mourn I

Is this thy place, sad city, this thy throne,

Where the wild desert rears its craggy stone ?

While suns unbless'd their angry lustre Hing,

And way-worn pilgrims seek the scanty spring?

Where now thy pomp, which kings with envy view'd ?

Where now thy might, which all those kings subdued?

No martial myriails musier at thy gate ;

No suppliant nations in thy tomph vait:

No prophet- bards, the glittering cu. s among,

Wave the full lyre, and swell the tiilo of song;

But lawless Force and meagre Want are there,

And the quick-darting eve of restless Fear,

Wliile cold Oblivion, 'niui thy ruins laid.

Folds his dank wing beneath the ivy tihada.

I m

HYMN OF THE CAPTIVE JEWS.

;!!'-

God of the thunder I from whose cloudy seat

The fiery winds of desolation flow :
Father of vengeance 1 that with purple feet,

Like a full winepress treadst the world below:
The embattled armies wait thy sign to slay,
Nor springs the beast of havoc on his prey,
Nor withering Famine walks his blasted way,

Till Thou the guilty land hast sealed for woe.

God of the rainbow I at whose gracious sign

The billows of the proud their rage suppress;
Father of mercies I at one word of Thine

An Eden blooms in the waste wilderness 1
And fountains sparkle in the arid sands,
And timbrels ring in maiden's glancing hands,
And marble cities crown the laughing lands.
And pillared temples rise Thy name to bless.

O'er Judah's land Thy thunders broke. Lord I

The chariots rattled o'er her sunken gate,
Her sons were wasted by the Assyrian sword,
E'en her foes wept to see her fallen state :
And heaps her ivory palaces became,
Her princes wore the captive's garb of shame,
Her temple sank amid the smouldering flame.
For Thou didst ride the tempest-cloud of fate.

O'er Judah a land Thy rainbow, Lord, ohall beam,

And the sad city lift her crcwnless head :
And songs shall wake, and daacini; footsteps glnnm,

Where broods o'er fallen snreets the silence of the dead.
The sun shall shine on Salem s gilded towers,
On Carmel's side our maidens cull the flowers,
To deck, at blushing eve, their itridal bowers,

And angel-feet the glittering iSion tread.

Thy vengeance gave us to the stranger's hand.

And Ai)raham's children wort? led I'ortli for ulaves ;
With fettered hteiia we left our pleasant land.
Envying our fathers in their peaceful graves.
The stranger's bread with bitter tears we steep,
And when our weary eyes hIiou1<1 sink to sleep,
'Neath the nmte nil<liiight we steal forth to weep.
Where the pale willows shade Euphrates' waves.

The l>orn in sorrow shall bring forth in Joy ;
Thy meroy, Lord, shall lead Thy children home;

Hd that went forth a tender yearling boy,
Yet, ere he die, to Salem's streets shall come.

And Canaan's vines for us their fruits shall bear,

And Hermon's bees their lioneyed stores prepare ;

And we shall kneel again in thankful prayer,
Where, o'er the cherub-seated God, full bluzed the
irradiate dome.

OH ! WEEP FOR THOSE.

Oh ! weep for those that wept by Babel's stream,
Whose shrines are desolate, whose land a dream ;
Weep for the harp of Judah's broken shell;
Mourn — where their Ood hath dwelt, the godless dwell 1

And where shall Israel lave her bleeding feet ?
And when shall Zion's songs again seem sweet?
And Judah's melody once more rejoice
The hearts that leap'd before its heavenly voice ?

Tribes ot the wandering foot and weary breast,
How shall ye flee away and be at rest t
The wild-dove hath her nest, the fox his cave,
Mankind their country — Israel but tlie grave 1

ON JORDAN'S BANKS.

Oi* Jordan's banks the Arab's camels stray.

On Sion's hill the False One's votaries pray,

The Baaladoror bows on Sinai's steop —

Yet there — even there — O Uod ! Thy thunders sloop

There — where Thy fingor scoroh'd tlie tablet stone I
There— where Thy sha<iow to Thy people shone I
Thy glory shrouded in its garb of Jiie :
Thyself— none living see and not expire t

Oh I in the lightning let Thy glance appear;
Sweep from his shivor'd hand the opjjrossor's spciir:
How Ion;; \)\ tyrants sliall Tliy land be trod?
How long Tny temple worshipless, O (iod I

HYMN OF THE HEBREW MAID.

Wri!n Israel, of the Lord beloved,

Out from the land of bondage came,
Her fathers God before her moved.

An awful guide in smoke and flume.
By day along the astonish'd lands

The cloudy pillar glided slow ;
By night Arabia's crimson'd sands

Return'd the fiery pillar's glow.

There rose the choral hymn of praise,

And trump and timbrel answered keen ;•
And Zion's daughters poured their lays,

With priest's and warrior's voice between.
No portents now our foes amaze,

Forsaken Israel wanders lone ;
Our fathers would not know Thy ways,

And Thou hast left them to their own.

But present still, thotigh now unseen.

When brightly shines the prosperous day^
Be thoughts of Thee a cloudy screen

To temper the deceitful ray.
And oh I when stoops on Judah's path

In shade and storm the frequent night,
Be Thou lonj; sutt' ring, slow to wrath,

A burning and a shining light :

Our harps we loft by B'lbel's streams,

The tyrants' jest, the (Jentiles' scorn.
No censer round our altar beams.

And nmte are timbrel, trump, and horn :
But Thou bust said. — <'The blood of goat,

The flesh of rams I will not prize ;
A contrite heart, an humble thought.

Are mine accepted sacrifice.''

" BY THE WATERS OF BABYLON.

»>

TnR Run flislied on the royal domes

Of Babylon the great —
The oiptivos sat upon the stones

Without the water gate ;

The river through the willows rushed^
Where they their harps hath hung,

For sorrow all their songs had hushed
And all their harps unstrung.

Forth came a tl ughtless city throng,.

And round the mourners drew^—
•' Come, sing to us a Sion song,

And string your harps anew."
" Ah no, not so ! " the captives said,

** Not in a stranger land :
Song from our hearts is banishM,

And skill from every hand."

"Jerusalem! dear Jerusalem,

Could thy sons sing or play.
And thou that art all earth to ithem

So fallen and far away ?
Oh, Sion ! may the tongue or hand,

That first forgets thee, rot —
If thou art fallen, dear native land,

Thou art not quite forgot."

The Babylonian troop are gone,

In thoughtful mood, awny —
The rivers and their tears flow on,

And none their grief gainsay ;
Their sad harps on the willows swing.

Their lips in secret pray —
Thit yet in Sion they may sing,

Their native Sion lay.

ARIEL.

Arirl I Ariel I City of our God,
How art thou fallen I no more the voice of prayer-
Ascends from thy proud temple ; nor repair
The tribes of Judah, o'er the sacred sod,
To worship where their fathers' ieet have • rod.
How long, oh God, how long wilt Thou forbear ?"
How long the oppressor of Thy people spare ?
How long must Israel bow beneath Thy rod ?
Thou hast, O Lord, from Egypt brought a vine.
Prepared room, and planted it. The land
Was cover' d with its shadow, oh, return,
Kevisit it, and cause Thy face to shine ;
And place upon Tlivservar.!. Thy right hand;
So we to call upon Thy ntime shteii ic-rn.

11 I

NEHEMIAII.

O TKOn light heart !
Light as the dancing bubbles of red wine
That crown the cup for him, almost divine,

Whose cup-bearer thou art.

Why art thou sad ?
Kings with great cares like not sour looks, and thou
Wast chosen for thy ever-sparkling brow,

And smile aye sunny-glad.

Thou art not sick ;
Sullen thou never wert ; as free thy song,
Though captive, as a bird's the meads among

And copses thick.

Light heart, but true !
True to thy God 'mid Shushan's golden dream,
True to those hearts that wept by Babel's stream,

Thou'rt still a Jew.

To-day thine eye
See^ not the sparkling wine, the gilded hall;
But, far beside a city's broken wall,

A tomb dishonoured, lie.

True heart, again be light !
Thy God hath heard thee, and the king hath said,
**GOj build the wall that guards the sacred dead—

Go, in my might."

Go, guileless Nehemiah,
Serpent Sanballat lurks beside the wall.
And, low among the stones, with scorpion crawl,

The slave Tobiah.

But fear them not I
Nor yet the craven crew within, their prey,
False prophets, mongrel priests, cheats, usurers grey.

Jdow changed thy lot I

True heart, but light no more I
The world's rude breath hath blown tlie froth away
That hid the clear dark wine ; O Tirshatha,

Thy happiest days are o'er I

So from the heavenly throne
Oood angels sent to comfort them that mourn

Are never seen to smile till they return,

And hear their Lord's "Well done."

Stout heart, clear head, clean hand,
An upward eye that sees the guiding light;
These shall direct t^y way through darkest night

Unto the far bright land.

All slept beneath the moon
That night, when thou didst thread thy lonely way
Along the hallowed boundaiy, where lay

In heaps the wall o'erthrown.

But lo ! the rubbish stirs !
The heaps revive beneath the busy hands
Of soldier-masons, wielding tools, or bmnds,

As sound the trumpeters.

Stone treads on stone,
With solemn march moves on the wall divine,
'Mid taunting foes, along the broken line

That once was Sion's zone.

And soon the ends sliall meet I
And clasp again a virgin undeHled,
And thou shalt bring her, cleansed and reconciled,

To her Kedeemer's ieet.

The Lord remember thee ?
Yes ; nought thou ever didst for Him give up,
Heart's lightness, peace, or pleasure's sparkling cup.

But shall remembered be.

To thee it shall be given,
To shine among the saints at Christ's right hand,
\7iih Moses and Elias there to stand.

And crown the cup of heaven.

THE MESSIAH.

A great part of this poem is taken frmn Isaiah's prophetio
Uescriptiun ul'Christ'i) kiugdoin.

Yb njnmphs of Solyma ! begin the song :
To heavenly themes sublimer strains belong.
The mossy fountains and the sylvan shades,
The dreams of Hindus and th'Aonian maids,
Delight no more. < ) Thou my voice inspire.
Who touched Isaiah's hallowed lips with tire I

Rapt into future times the bnrd begun !
A virgin shall conceive, a virgin hear a son I
From Jesse's root behold a Branch arise,
Whose sacred flower with fragrance fills the skies :
Th' ethereal Spirit o'er its leaves shall move,
And on its tops descend the mystic Dove.
Ye heavens ! from high the tiewy nectiir pour,
And in soft silence shed the kindly shower ;
The sick and weak, the healing plant shall aid,
From storms a shelter, and from heat a shade.
All crimes shall cease, and ancient fmuds shall fail ^
Returning Justice lift aloft her scale ;
I'eace o'er the world her olivewand extend,
And white-robed Innocence from heaven descend.
Swift fly the years, and rise tli' expected morn I
O spring to light I auspicious Babe, be born !
See, Nature hastes her earliest wreaths to bring
With all the incense of the breathing spring :
See lofty Lebanon his head advance :
See nodding forests on the mountJiin dance.
See spicy clouds from lowly Sharon rise.
And Carmel's flowery top perfume the skies I
Hark ! a glad voice the lonely desert cheers.
Prepare the way ! a God, a God appears :
A God, a God ! the vocal hills reply :
The rocks proclaim th' approaching Deity.
Lo, earth receives Him from the bending skies :
Sink down, ye mountains : and ye valleys, rise :
With heads declined, ye cedars, homage pay :
Bo smooth, ye rocks, ye rapitl floods, give way I
The Saviour comes, by ancient bards foretold I
Hear him, ye deaf ; and all ye blind, behold I
He from thick films shall pui-go the visual ray,
And on the sightless eyeball uour the day ;
'Tis He the obstructed paths of sound shall clear,.
And bid new nmsic chaini llie unfolding ear :
The dumb shall sing, the lame his crutch forego,
And leap exulting like the l)Ounding roe.
No sigh, no murmur, the wide world shall hearj
Trom every face He wipes oH every teir.
In adamantine chains shall death be bound,
And hell's grim tyrant feel the eti«rnal wound.
As the good shepherd tends his fleecy care,
Seeks freshest pasture and the purest air ;
Explores the lost, the wandering sheep directs ;
By day o'ersees them, and by night protects ;
The tender lambs he raises in his arms,
Feeds from his hands, and in his bosom warms ;
Thus shall mankind His guardian care engage, —
The promised Father of the future age.
Ko more shall nation against nation rise.

Nor ardent warriors meet with hateful eyes,

Hot fields with gleaming steel be covered o'er,

The brazen trumpets kindle mge no more :

But useless lances into scythes shall bend,

And the broad falchion in a ploughshare end :

Then palaces shall rise ; the joyful son

Shall finish what his short-lived sire begun ;

Their vines a shadow to their mce shall yield,

And the same hand that sowed >^hall reap the field ;

The swain in barren desserts wu ; surprise

Sees lilies spring, and sudden verdure rise ;

And starts, amidst the thirsty wilds, to hetu*

New falls of water murmuring in his ear.

On rifted rocks, ti. : dragon's late abodes,

The green reed trembles, and the bulrush nods.

Waste, sandy valleys, once perplexed with thorn,

The spiry fir and stately box adorn ;

To leafless shrubs the flowery palms succeed.

And odorous myrtle to the noisome weed :

The lambs with wolves shall graze the verdant mead,

And boys in flowery bands the tiger lead :

The steer and lion at one crib shall meet.

And harmless serpents lick the pilgrim's feet.

The smiling infant in his hand shall take

The crested basilisk and speckled snake ;

Pleased, the green lustre of the scales survey,

And with their forked tongue shall innocently play.

Rise, crowned with light, imperial ISalem, rise I
Exalt thy towery head, and lift thy eyes !
See a long race thy spacious courts adoiii ;
See future sons and daughters yet unborn,
In crowding ranks on every side arise.
Demanding life, impatient for the skies :
See barbarous nations at thy gates attend,
Walk in thy light, and in thy temple bend :
See thy bright altars thronged with prostrate kings,
And Ireaped with products of Sabrean springs.
For thee Idumd's spicy forests blow,
And seedii of gold in Ophir's mountains glow.
See heaven its sparkling portals wide display.
And break upon thee in u flood of day !
No more the rising sun f-hall gild the morn,
Nor evening Cynthia fill her silver horn,
But lost, dissolved in thy superior rays,
One tide of glory, one uncloM<ied blaze,
O'erflow thy courts : the Ligi • Hmiself shall shine
Revealed, and God's eternal diiy be thine I
'J'he seas shall waste, the skies in smoke decay,
Rockf ffl.ll to dust, and mountains melt away :
But fixed Ills word. His saving power remains:
Thy realm for ever luMia, thy own Mewioh reigna.

I <

78
THE RErENTANCE OF NINEVEH.

ffl^

An ancient city once with all its towers.

Its duTiies, its turrets, bath'd in golden hours,

Jjay basking on the plain.
From balcony and window went a voice
Of music sweet, and cry, " Rejoice, rejoice,

"And dance and ieast, and feast and dance again/*'

In luxury, and pomp, and love, and flowers,

In garlands, garments gay, and perfum'd showers

Each dny and night did wane.
And still with wine, and song, and dulcet noise
Did sackbut, harp and lute e.xhort •* rejoice

And feast and dance, and dance and feast again."

But hark ! A voice above the revels ringing.

Like bells at midnight by an earthquake swinging :

" Destruction comes I repent.
Yet forty days this place shall be overthrown,
Fke and whirlwind rend it stone from atone,

Madmen I repent ! repent I "

And thro' the festive streets a being spectral,
Like one by fiends pursued, with voice sepulchral.

Who ran and cried '' Repent
From Hell's red depths beneath the ocean's gloom.
Where Death's black weeds enwrap'd me for my doom.

Back to the world Tm sent,
To summon you when forty days expire,
To shoreless seas of brimstone and of fire.

Repent I repent! repent!"
With haggard face, and eyes dilated staring.
Gigantic torm and wan, with wild locks flaring,
He paused not, turned not, like a meteor flying.
Till in the distance as the spent storm dying,

Was heard " repent ! repent I "

Then ceas'd the music, harp and dulcimer,
And dancing feet no longer gleaming were :

All lips turned pale.
Goblets overthrown, silent the riot bout.
The idol's song, th^ wine-inspired shout,

Chang'd to one wail.

Till the King with love kissed garland crown'd,
JSnapp'd ev'ry jewel'd knot and cast it on the ground :

" One hope I to prayer, to pniyer !
"The God of Heaven may yet withstjiy His hand,
If humble fasting, weeping, all the land

Cry mightily to spare."

Yes I Ood beheld repentant man with pity.
A day of grace He gave that humbl'd city,

A mis-spent day of grace.
Ah Nineveh ! amid thy ruins lone
Sits devastation on thy threshold stone

And stares into thy face

Amid thy cedar-courts are wild beasts lying,
And on thy broken walls the dry grass sighing

To days gone by.
While in thy lintels, whence sweet lutes did swell,
Now cormorants loage and shriek and bitterns dwell.

With their discordant cry.

Oh let us read the past with introspection,
As illustrating the Divine retiection.

In warning given,
That they who slight the Prophets and the Law
Not long repent altho' the dead they saw

Beckon to Heaven.

And in these forty days "bewailing wholly
With all contrition ami with meekness" lowly

Our sinfulness of yore.
So shall be thus " the day of vengeance wrathful,.
And voice of most just judgment" awful

Averted from our shore.

BABYLON IS FALLEN.

FaliiRN is stately Babylon !
Her mnnsions from the earth are gone,
For ever (juenched, no more her beam
Shall g?m Euphmtr;* voiceless stream.
Her miriii ;.; hL«sheil, her music fled —
All, save her very name, is dead }
And the lone river rolls his flood,
Where once a thousand temples stood.

Queen of the golden Eist ! afar
Thotj shonest, Assyria's morning star I
Till (lod, by righteous anger driven,
E.xpelled thee from thy place in lle.iven^
For false and tre ichorous was thy ray,
Like sw.inifiy lights thut lead >istray :
And oer the splendour of thy name
Kolled many a cloud of sin and shame.

For ever fled thy princely shrines,

Kich with their wreaths of clustering vises

Priest, censer, incense — all nre gciie

From the deserted nltnr-atono.

Belshazuir's hstlls are desolate,

And vanished their imperial state ;

Even as the pageant of a dream

That floats unheard on Memory's stream.

Fallen is Babylon ! and o"or
The silence of her hidden shore,
Where the gaunt satyr shrieks and sings,
Hath Mystery wave<l his awful wings.
Concealed from eyes of mortal men,
Or angels' more pervading ken,
The ruined city lies — unknown
ller site to all, but Uod alone.

THE CITIES OF OLD.

li t

■^^

WuBRB are the cities which of old in mighty grandeur rose T
Amid the desert's burning sands, or girt with frozen snows;
Is there no vestige now remains, their wond'rous tale to tell,
Of how they blazed like meteor-stais, and how, like thorn,
they iell ?

Hark! hark I the voice of prophecy comes o'er the desert wide,
Come down, come down, and in the dust thy virgin beauties

hide,
Oh, " Daughter of Chaldea," thou no more enthroned shalt be,
For the desert and the wilderness alone shall tell of thee.

Though old Euphrates still rolls on his everlasting stream.
Thy brazen gates and golden hidls are as they ne'er had been,
Where stood thy massy tower-crowned walls, and palaces ot

pride,
The dragon aixd the wild beast m *" therein securely hide.

Tlie "besom of destruction " o'er thee hath swept its way
III wrath, because Ihme impious hand on God's Anointed lay:
Thou ** Lady of the Kingdoms," Chaldea's daughter proud,
Tliy gold is dim, thy music mute, and darkness now thy
shroud.

I/iment, ye seas, and howl, ye isles, for Tyre's virgin daughter,
Who sits a queen enthroned upon the wide far-flowing water.
Who saifl, "I am above all else with perfect beauty crowned,
And helm and shield in oomeliness hang on my walls around }

*** My merchant-princes bear the wealth of erery land and

clime,
The choicest things that earth can gira. in sea, or air, are

mine,
The vestments rich of purple dye, alone are made by me,
And kings that robe can only wear, the robe of sovereignty."

And haughty Zidon, she too stood enrobefl in dazrling light,
The precious stone her covering was, with (>earl and <iiani<>uil

bright ;
The ruby and the emorald, the sapphire's glowing gem,
Blazed on her star-embroider'd vest, and on her diadem.

Thou "City of a hundred gates,'* through who:»e folding lo.ives

of brass.
Ten thousand men in arm'd array, from each at o ice nii^iht

piiss,
Could not thy warriors and thy walls thee ^ .^m the spoilers

save ?
Alas I alas I thy gates are down, thy heroes in the >rrave.

And where those sumptuous summer- homes, those bowers of

kingly pride.
That rose amid the *' palm-tree shade," far in the desort wide ?
Where that gigantic structure, the temple of the sun ?
Is thy day ot beauty too gone by, thy race of glory i uu ?

Imperial « Mistress of the World," where are thy triunipln

now ?
For dark, and dim, and lustreless, are the jewels on thy brow ;
The proud stre:im at thy feet rolls on, a« it w.u> wont of old.
And bears within its azure depths wliat time may not milold.

The seven hills thv ancient throne, the hind of time dt'fy.
But now the marble coronets in broken fragments lie,
The stately arch, the pillar'd dome, the pal-ice and the h ill,
No more behold in baimer'd pride, the gorgeous festival.

Thy Csusars, and thy citizens, the emperor, and slave,
Alike rest in the silent toiub, or in the silent grave ;
Even there thy noble ladies, in deed 4 of virtue bold,
And there is Massalina now, in her robe of woven gold.

And thou, beloved Jerusalem, tho' desolate thou art,

Thy honoured nume enshrined shall be in every ' hristian's

heart,
The' the harp of Jesse's son now lies neglected, mute, arKl ->lill,
Yet Abiaham's God cannot forget liis own mo^t holy hill.

The silver trunpet yet shall wake in thee a joyous sound,
Thy golden riltan be once more with sweet«tt incense ciown'd ;
6

Yot -lot the blood of bulls or goats that shnll b« oflTered there^
But the sweet incense of the heart, in notes of praise and
prayer.

The seven brunch ?ustre yet shall shed its mys of holy light,
Un every clustered capital, with sculptured traceries bri^^iit,
And He whose presence dwelt between the cherubimsof gold^
Shall to IJis briglit pavilion come, as lie was wont of old.

For Israel's King of David's line, the Crowned, the Crucified^
Who languished in Getlisemane and who on Calv'ry died,
Yes, lie shall come, nnfl;r\ther in of every clime and hue,
Barbarian, Scythian, hidiuu, Greek ; the Gentile and the Jew..

No light of stm or moon nhall then again be nocdftd there,
Nor cooling fountains civst their Hoods into tho balmy air,
But He who is the light and life, in tho toiu])lo throne shall

dwell,
His brightest crown Salvation is, his name Immanuel.

And down the streets of purest gold, bright as tranH])arcnt

gliVSS,

Diffusing health and happiuoss o'er nations as they pass.
The everlasting streams of lil'o their healing wators pour,
And ho who tastes thoto crystal floods, sh.Ui faint with tliirst
no more 1

TYRE.

Ix thought, T saw the palace defies of Tyre;

The gorgeous ticasuros of her merchandise j
And her pioud people in their b.nive attire,

Tln-onging her streets for sport or sacrifice.
I saw the pitM'ious stones and spicories,
Tho singing girl with flowerwreaihoil instrument ;

And slaves whose beauty ask«d a monarch's price-
Forth IVom all lands all nations to her went,
Anil kings to Ium' In oinliassy were sent.

L saw, with gilded prow and silken sail,
Her ships that of tho se i had government :

U gallant kIuiks ! 'giinst you what might prevail?
She stood upon her rock, and in hrtr pride
Of strength and beauty, waste and woo delied.

I looked again — I buw a lonely shore,

A rock amid the waters, and a waste
Of trackless sand ; — I heard the black seas roar^

A?vl winds tli.t ros« nnrl fell with gPaty haate.

'I'lioro was one sciithecl tree, by -toiTn defaced,
liMiinil which the feea-biixls wheelo.l with screaming cry.

Kre lonjr <Mnio on a travellor, slowly paced ;
Now east, the:» west, ho turned with curious eye,
Like one pfinlcxed with an uncertainty.

Awhile ho lookod upon the »ea, and then
UiM)n a hook, as if it might supply

The things ho Licked : — he re.ui, and gazed again ;
Yet, as if unbelief »o on him wrought,
Ho might not deem this bhore the shore he sought.

Again I saw liim come ; — 'twas eventide ; —
The sun slione on the rook amidst the sea;

Th«' winds wore hushed ; the quiet billows sighed
With a low swell ; the birds winged silently
Their evening (light around the scathdd tree :

Tho lishor sif«'ly put into the bay,

And pushoil his boat ashore; — then gathered he

His nets, and, hastening up the rocky way,

Spit'ad them to catch tlie sun's witrm evening ray.
I saw th'it stranger's eye guo on the scene :

"And tliis was Tyre I " saiil he, "how hot) deo»y
Within her palaces a despot been !

Kuin and sibmce in her courts are met,

Aiid ou her city rock the tlther sproadd uif net 1 **

THE FALL OF NINEVEH.

TifR da}'s of old return ; — I breathe the air

Of (ho young world ; I see her giant sonB,

Like to a gorgeous pageant in tiie sky

Of summer's evening, cloud on fiery cloud

Thronging ujiheaveil, — before me rise the walla

Of the Titanic city, — brazen gates, —

Towers, — tenipleit, — palaces enormous piled,—

Imporid iViNKVKn, the earthly queen!

]n all her golden pomp I see her now, —

Her swarming streets, — her splemlid festivals,-—

Ifer sprightly damsels to Ine timbrel's sound

Airily bounding, and their ankles chime, —

Her lusty sons, like summer-ntorning gay,— -

]lor warriors stern, — her rich-robed rulers grard |

I see her halls stmbright at mi<ln'ght shine,—

I hear the musio of her banquetings;

I hour the iau^jh, the whisper, uud the sigh.

Ill

nes, —

A sound of Htatoly treading towards me

A Bilken wafting on the cedar-floor :

As from Arabia's flowering groves, an air

Delicious breathes around, — tall, lofty-browed, —

Pale and mujosticall" beautiful, —

In vesture gorgeou.* as the clouds of mom, —

With slow, proud step, her glorious damus swonp by.

Again I look, — and lo ! around the walls

I'nnumbored hosts in flaming panoply, —

Cliuriots like tire, and thundor-bearmg stooda f

I hoar the shouts of battle : like the waves

Of the tumultuous sea they roll and rush ! —

In Hanie and snioko the imperial city sinks !

Her walls are gone, her palaces are dust —

The desert is around her, and within

Like shadows have the mighty passed away.

Whence, and how eanio the ruin? by tho hand

Of the oppressor were the nations bowi^l ;

They rose against him, and prevailed ; for ho,

The haughty monarch who the earth could rule,

By his own furious passions was o'orruled:

Witli pride his understanding was mode <lark,

That he the truth knew not ; and by hii« lusts,

And by the tierooness of his wrath the hoarts

Of men ho turned from him. So, to all kings

Be ho example, that the tyrannous

And iron rod bro:iks down ut length the hand

That wields it strongest ; that by virtue alone

And justice, monarchs sway the hearts of men j

J 'or there hath God implanted love of those.

And halr«Ml of oppression, which unseen

And noiseless though it work, yet in the end,

K en like the viewless elements of the storm,

llroiNling in silence, will in thunder burst I

Ho let tlie nations learn, that not in wealth,

Nor in the grosser pleasures of the sense,

Nor in the glare of contjuost, nor the pomp

Of vassal kings, and tributary lands,

Do li ippino.s9 and lasting power abide ; — •

That virtue unto man best glory is.

His strength, and truest wisdom ; — and that guilt,

Though for u season in the heart delight,

Or t«) worse deeds the bad man do make strong, —

Brinj^rs misery yet, and terror, and remorse.

And weakness and destruction in the end :

So if the nations learn, then not m vain

The mighty one hath been, and is no iQor« I

'n f

B.>

THE VISION IN THE VALLEY OF
DUY 1J0NE8.

IIk wftlk<>d the vnle, where tliickly flprea4,

Atul whitening all the ground.
The bones of thouHiind thousanu dead

I/iy 80uttor«><l all u round ;
And liko the leaven, all seiir and dry,
When autunni'8 blivat luith swept the sky,

Those bone;» might there \>e found ;
And not less thickly were they seen,
Tiian leaves when uutunin's hliidt hath been.

Ho stood within that gloomy vale—

Ifo stood— that hallowe«l seer ;
A voice W.I8 luvird upon the galo,

It soun<lo<l in his ear ;
It bade him speak that mighty spoil,
Which not e'en powerful death cjin quell,

But listens to m fear.
That word of mystic power he spoke—
An awful sound the stillness broke.

Bono linked to bono, with rustling sound,

As when, through autumn's trees,
The withered leaves fall quickly round

Upon the mournful bree/o ;
And o'er each bone, on that wide plain,
Thus linketl, the Hesh returned again,—

Each lay, as if disease
Its all-transforming work had done,
Ere yet corruption has begun

But still devoid of living breath,

Those countless numbers lay ;
Still held within the graap of death.

In horrible erray :
Tljeir eyes were tixe<l and glazed,— each brow
Was cold an<l pale as winter's snow j

Each form, but mouhled clay ;
Thus s'^'^ntly and grindy spread.
They Hcem'd a nation of the dead.

Again the honven-breathed voice woa heard—

Agam the seer obeyed —
Agam he spoke the mystle word —

Again its power disidayed.
"Come, vviud« of heaven, and breathe aroujul "-

The winds rushed by with hollow sound —

And o'er those corses played ;
" Come, winds of heiivon. hroatho o'or the slain,
That they may woke to life again."

They brooded on those forms — they sped

Revivifying breath ; —
I 8TW that mighty host of dpnd

Wake from their sleep of death ;
Light danced in every eye — eacli breast
Began to heave — no more at rest,

The heart throbbed strong beneath,
The blood flowed warm in every vein,
Life started to its seat again.

BELSIIAZZAR.

Tub king was on his throne,

The satraps thronged thn hall ;
A thousand bright l.'itn]>s shone

O'er that high festival.
A thousand cups of gold,

In Judah deemed divine-
Jehovah's vessels hold

The godless heathen's wine.

In that same hour and hall

The tingors of a hand
Came forth against the wall,

And wrote as if on soud :
The Hngers of a man :

A solitary hand
Along the letters ran,

And traced them like a wand.

The monarch saw and shook.

And bade no more rejoice ;
All bloodless waxed his look,

And tremulous his voice.
*' I.el the men of lore appear,

The wisest of the earth.
And expound the words of fe-if,

Which mar our royal mirth."

Chaldoa's seers are good,

But hero they have no skill ;
4nd the unknown loiters stood

Untold and awful «till.
And Babel's men of age

Are wise and deep in lore,
But now they were not sage,

They saw — but knew no more.

A captive in the land,

A stranger and a youth,
He heard the king's command,

He saw that writing's trutli.
Tiie lamps around were bright^

The prophecy in view j
lie read it on that night, —

The morrow proved it true.

" Belshazzar's grave is made,

His kingdom passed away,
He, in the balance weighed.

Is light and worthless clay.
The shroud, his robe of stale,

His t'ano}>y the stone ;
The Mede is at his gate I

The Persian on his throne I "

BELSHAZZAR'S FEAST.

-Tot holds her court in great Belshazzar's hall,
Where his proud lords attend their moniirch s call.
The rarest dainties which the teeming Knst
J'ours from her bounteous lap, adorn the ieast.
O'er silver lountains peifumoil waters play,
And g*»ms add lustre to tho l)laze of day :
The brightest tears of rich Assyria's vine
In the broad gold with deeper crimson ahhie :
Mirth dips his pinions in the rosy bowl.
And Musi** j^ours liis raptures oer the soul :
While the iugh domes and fretted roofs prolong
Each dying echo of the choral song.

But, lo I the Monarch rises. — " I'our," he cries,
*' To the great gods, the Assyiian deities ;
*' Tour forth libations of the rosy wine
*' To Nebo, Bel, and all the powei-s (tivin«.
'' Those golden vessels crown, which erewliile stood
*' Fast by the oracle of Judah's God ;
*' Till that accursed race j>rovoked the ire
" And vengeful arn> of my immortal nire,
'' ]!ail to tha (iods, whose omens in the night

('■ I

In •

" Beamed on my soul through visions of delight.'"'
Ah ! wretched mortal, worthless worm of clay I
Thou grovelling reptile, horn but to decay !
The Almighty's wruth phall soon in tempest rise,
And scatter wide thine impious sacrifice,
KoU buck the torrent of thy guilty pride.
And whelm theo, boaster, in its refluent tide.

Such is thine own impending fate, O kiii^' I
Else, why that start, that livid cheek ? wli\ lling
Tiio unta-sted goblet from thy palsied hand .'
Why shake thy joints ? thy feet forget to st iid I
VVIiere roams thine eye ? which seems in wild ani;i/e-
To shun some object, yet returns to gaze ;
Then .shrinks again appalled, as if the tomb
Had sent a spirit from its inmost gloom,
l>read as the phantom which in night's <lark hour
Revealed the terrors of the Almighty's power ;
When o'er the couch of Eliphaz it stood,
And froze the liiestreams of his curdling blood.

Awful the horror, when BelsJiazziu- raised
If is arm, and pointed where the vision blazed I
For flee ! enrobed in flime, a mystic shade,
As of a hand, a red riglit hand, displayed 1
Atjd slowly moving o'er the wall, appear
Letters of fate, and characters of fear !
'Tis that Almighty hand, that shakes the polo.
Wings the .swil t bolt, and bids the thunder roll.

DieathlosM they stand in deathlike silence ; all
Fi.K their glazjul eyeballs on the dreaded wall :
It seotuH as if u magic spell had bound
Each form in icy fetters ; not a sound
Is heard, except some throbbing pulse proclaims
That life still liii^'^crs in liinh- sinking frames.
See I now the vision brightens, now tjs tfone ;
Like meteor fl ish, like heaven's own lightnlhg llfwii
But, tlioiijfth the hand liatli viini.slied, still appear
Those mystic characters of fate and fear |
Baffling each ett'ort vainly mide to scan
Such revelation of the I/ird to man,

" Quick bring tliu i'li/i/hct :— let his picrcinj^ eyii
" 8i*an (lioNn riiin (lutlinea nf luturity :
'^ And, oil I ill mercy jet hi* tongue (iiucltiinf
" The mystery of IJifai visionary fl imo.'"
The holy prophet came, wilii brow .«orene.

With spirit »<peaking eye. and lolly mien.
To whom Belsliazzai " I'lopliBt, by llillie aifj
" Be our sad doubts and anxjoiia miun

line aid
fiiliiyeu.

Ion

" Our sage Chalde;m.'» now in valii r.xjjlorii

** See tb« dire portent* tliat our hoiiil» iittjiill i

4 W)|,|(.

Ill r.xi
" The secret wonders of their nuiata ii

hoiiil
^ H^ikd Uiou th« hues upoa that diuudut

* Nor shall thy skill and high dosorts forego
" The richest gifts a monarch can bestow. "

Unutterably awful was the eye
Which met the monarch's; and the stem reply*
Foil heavy on his soul. "Thy gifts withhold,
" Nor tempt the Spirit of tiie l,ord with gold.
" Did memory fail thee? was thy father's lot
'' So lightly noted, and so soon forgot?
" Him God exalted; him the Almighty gave
" I'owor to cast down, set up, destroy, or save.
" But when the hand that raised him, he defied,
" It smote him, and he withered in his pride ;
" An awful wreck of man, outc^ist of heaven,
" From human haunts, from social converse driven.
" At length relenting heaven hin pride subdued, ,

" Kestored his reason, and his form renewed.
" Then h»unbly bout ('eneath the hand that shed
" Mercies or judgments on his chastened head,
" The v^ovoring shieM ho blessed, or kissed the rod,
" And bowed submissive to ihe will of (Jod.
" But thru, unmindful of thy sire's lelease,
** His pride and fall, his penitence and peace,
" Hast braved the fury of the living Lord,
" Profaned His vessels, and His rites abhorred.
" Proud monarch, hear what these dread w'>rd> leveal I
" That lot on which the Eternal sets his seal.
" Thy kingdom numbered, and thy glory tlown,
" The Mede and Persian revel on thy throne.
" Weighed in the balance, thou hast kicked the liearn;
" See to yon western sun the lances gleam,
" Which, ere his orient rays adorn the sky,
** Thy blood shall sully with a crimson dye. "

This fate foretold, the strains prophctio cease.
But ere the prophet's feet depart in peace.
The chain of gold upon his neck they cast,
The robe of scarlet gird around his waist;
And proclamations through the land declare
Daniel third ruler, next Assyria's heir.
In the dire carnage of that night's dread hour,
f 'rushed 'mid the ruins of his crumbling power,
llrilNha/nir fell : though secret was the blow,
Lfiiknuwn Ihu Laud that laid the tyrant low.

t . I '

I f I

!i|ii!

DANIEL'S SOLILOQUY.

" And whftt is death, my friond, that I should fear it *j

To die I why 'tis to triumph; 'tis to.j«)in

The great nHsemhly of tljo good and just ;

Iminortul wortiiios, homes, {it-ophets, saints I

Uh I 'tis to join the hand of holy men,

Made perfect by thoir sutf'rings ! 'Tis to meet

My great progenitors! 'tis to behold

Th'illustrious Patriarchs; they, with whom the Lord

Deign'd hold familiar converse I 'Tis to see

Ble.:>s'd Noah and his children, once a world I

'Tis to behold (oh I rapture to conceive ! )

Those we have known, and lov'd, and lost, below 1

Bold Assiriah, and the band of brothcs,

Who sought, in bloom of youth, the scorching flames!

Nor is it to behoid horoic men

Alone, who fought the light of faith on earth;

But heav'nly conquerors, angelic hosts,

Michael and his bright legions, who subdued

The foes of Truth! To join their blest employ

Of love and praise I To the high melodies

Of choirs celestial to attune my voice,

Accordant to the golden harps of suinta !

To join in bless'd ilosannahs to their King I

Whose face to see, whose glory to behold,

Alone were heav'n, tho' saint or seraph none

There were beside, and <mly II k were there I

This is to die ! Who would not die for this?

Who would not die, that he might live for over ? "

DANIEL'S PROPHECY-THE FALL OF
BABYLON

" An impulse more than human stirs my breast.
Rapt in prophets vision, 1 behold
Thmtfs hid as yet from mortal sight. I see
The dart of vengeance tremble in the air,
Ere long to pierce the impious king. Ev'u now
The fierce, destroying angel stalks abroad,
And brandishes aloft the twoedg'd swoi-d
Of retribution keen ; he soon will strike,
J^nd Babylon shall weep as >Sion wept.

Pass but a little while, and you shall see
This queen of cities prostrate on tlie earth.
This haughty luistross of the kneeling world,
How shall she trit dishonour'd in the 'lust,
In tttrnish'd jiomp and solitary woe !
How shall yhe khroud lier glories in tlie dark,
And in 0])prol)rlous bilence hide her head !
Lament. (J vir^'in daughter ot'Chaldea !
For thou shall tall, imperial queen ! shalt fall I
No more Sidunian robes shall grace thy limbs.
To purple gurnients, sackcloth shall succeed ;
And sordid dust and ashes shall supply
The odrous nard and cassia. Thou, who said'sfc,
I am, and there is none beside me : thou,
Evn thou, impenial Babylon ! shalt fall :
Thy glory nuito eclips'd ! The pleasant sound
Of viol, and of harp, shall chirm no more ;
Kor song of Syrian damsels shall be heard.
Responsive to the lute's luxurious note.
But the loud bittern's cry, the raven's croak.
The bat's fell scream, the lonely owl s dull plaint,
And every hideous bii-d willi ominous shriek,
Shall scare all'righted Silence from thy walls.
While Dksolation. snatching from the hand
Of Time the scythe of ruin, .sits aloft,
In dreadful majesty and horrid pomp ;
Glancing with sullen pride thy crumbling tow'rs.
Thy broken battlements, thy columns falln :
Then pointing to the mischiefs she has made,
The head exclaims, '' Tim once was Babylon."

THE MACCABEES.

Darkness overshadows Israel all.

Woo and death and lamentation ;
The heathen laughs on Sion's wall,

The Temple' nil is desolation;
A dumb demoniac shape of stone

Enthroned upon Ciod's holy altar.
Where chihlren of the Faith kneel down

And fearful IVicsls thro' false rites falter.

Buried the Book of God, the spirit

Of Moses and of David gone —
Lost the traditions they inherit.

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Their Sabbath bCofFed and spat upon ;
Heek recusants with bent necks bare

Beseech swift death from fire and sword.
Of all deliverance in despair

Die, rather than deny their Lord.

But other men of hardier mood,

In Modin's mountains wandered free,
Their temple the o'erarching wood,

The cave their solemn sanctuary ;
Men who had sworn they would not die

Like shamble sheep a willing prey ;
Had sworn to smite the foe though ho

Assailed them on the Sabbath day.

Their Chiefs were Judas — Israel's shield

Her sword, her staff, her morning star.
The fii-st in every fatal field

To bear the burden of the war ;
And Simon sage, the man of lore,

Whose downcast eyes read coming signs;
"Whose thoughts were spies, skilled to explor©

Afar the invader's dark designs.

Oh, valiant Assidean Chiefs,

How well your Father's will yie wrought,
How lifted Israel from her griefs,

And bore her on your shields aloft ;
" She shall not perish," — so you swore—

" They shall not root us out of earth,
Our Fathers' God we dare adore,

And rule the realm that gave us birth.'^

Oh ncble pair, with awful odds,

Seron, Lysias, Nicanor, come !
Their trust is in their Syrian gods,

But Israel's hope is in her Own ;
How valiantly year after year

Ye gird your loins for warfare grand I
How proud, at last your flag you rear,

On a regenerated land !

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A HEBREW MELODY.

0» Carmel's brow the wreathy vine

Had all its honours shed,
And o'er the vales of Palestine

A sickly paleness spread ;
When the old seer, by vision led,

And energy sublime,
Into that shadowy region sped,

To muse on distant time.

He saw the valleys far and wide.

But sight of joy was none;
He lookd o'er many a mountain side,

But silence reigned alone,
Save that a boding voice sung on,

By wave and waterfall,
As still, in harsh and heavy tone,

Deep unto deep did call.

On Kison's strand and Ephrata

The hamlets thick did lie ;
No wayfarer between he saw.

No Asherite passed by :
No maiden at her task did ply.

No sportive child was seen ;
The lonely dog barked wearily

Where dwellers once had been.

Oh f beauteous were the palaces

On Jordan wont to be,
And still they glimmered to the breeze,

Like stars beneath the sea !
But vultures held their Jubilee

Where harp and cymbal rung,
And there, as if in mockery,

The baleful satyr sung.

But who had seen that Prophet's eye

On Carmel that reclined I
It looked not on the times gone by.

And those that were behind :
His grey hair streamed upon the wind,

His hands were raised on high,
As mirror'd on his mystio mind

Arose futurity.

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lie saw the feast in Bozrah spread,

Prepared in ancient cLay ;
Eastward, away the eagle sped,

And all the birds of prey.
"Who's this," he cried, "comes by the way

Of Edom, all Divine,
Travelling in splendour, whose array

Is red, but not with wine ? "

Blest be the herald of our King

That comes to set us free !
The dwellers of the rock shall sing,

And utter praise to Thee !
Tabor and Hermon yet shall see

Their glories glow again,
And blossoms spring on tield and tree,

That ever shall remain.

" The happy child in dragon's way

Shall IVolic with delight ;
The lamb shall round the leopard play,

And all in love unite ;
The dove on Zion's hill shall light,

That all the world must see.
Hail to the Journeyer, in His might,

That cumes to set us freel "

WATCHMAN ! WHAT OF THE NIGHT ?

Watchman ! tell us of the night,

What its signs of promise are r
Traveller ! o'er yon mountain's height

See that glory- beaming star !
Watchman I doth its beauteous i-ay

Aught of hope or joy lore tell ?
Traveller ! yes ! it brings the day,.

Promis'd day of Israel.

Watchman I tell us of the night ;

Higher yet that star ascends :
Traveller I blessedness and light.

Peace and truth its course portends.
Watchman I will its beams alone

Travl1lt!!t f ""^ that gave them birth?/
iraveiler ! ages are its own

And It bmsts o'er all the 'earth.
Watchman I tell us of the night,

Tiave er 1 darkness takes its flight,
Doubt and terror aio whithdrawn
Watchman ! let thy wand ' ring cl"; -

Trave ler ! lo ! the Prince of Peace
Lo I the Sou of God is come '

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THE HARP OF CAI^AAN.

■HISTORICAL INCIDENTS OF THE NEW TESTAMENT.

MESSIAH'S ADVENT.

He oame not in his people's day

Of miracle and might,
When awe-struck nations owned their sway

And conquest ciown'd each fight ; —
When nature's self with wonder saw
Her ancient power, her boasted law,

To feeble man give way

The elements of earth and heaven
Israel stayed — for Judah riven I

Pillar and cloud Jehovah gave,

High emblems of His grace ;
^nd clove the rock, and smote the wave,

Moved mountains from their place ; —
-■But judgment was with mercy blent —
In thunder was the promise sent —

Fierce lightning veiled His face ;
'The jealous God — the burning law —
"Were all the chosen people saw.

Behold them — pilgrim tribes no more—

The promis'd land their own ;
And blessings tlieirs of sea and shore ; .

To other realms unknown : *• ♦< .

From age to age a favoured line.
Of mighty kings and seers divine,

A temple and a throne ;
"Not then, but in their hour of shame.

Woe, want, and weakness — then '* He cam«

19'ot in the earthquake's rending force,

Not in the blasting ihe ;
Not in the strong wind's rushing course,

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Came Tie, their soul's desire I
Forerunners of His coming these,
Proclaiming over earth and seas,

As God, His might and iie :
The still, small voice — the hovering dore,
Proved Him Messiah — spoke Him "Love I""

Of life the way, of light the spring

Eternal, undeliled :
Eedeemer, Prophet, Priest, and King —

Yet came He as a child I
And Zion's favoured eye grown dim,
Knew not her promised l^ord in Him

The lowly and the mild !
She saw the minger, and the tree.
And scornful cried — *' Can this be He I "

ADVENT.

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O Saviour, is the promise fled ?

Nor longer might Thy grace endure ,.
To heal the sick and raise the dead,

And preach Thy Gospel to the poor?
Come, .Jesus, come, return again,

With brighter beam Thy servants bless,
Who long to I'eel Thy perfect reign,

And share Thy kingdom's happiness.
A feeble race, by passion driven,

In darkness and in doubt we roam.
And lift our anxious eyes to Heaven,

Our hope, our harbour, and our home.
Yet 'mid the wild and wintry gale.

When Death rides darkly o'er the sea,
And strength and earthly daring fail,

Our prayers. Redeemer, rest on Thee.
Come, .lesus, come, and as of yore

The prophet went to clear Thy way,
A harl)inger Thy feet before,

A dr wning to Thy brighter day,
So now may grace with lieavenly shower,

Our stony heart'^ lor truth prepare j
Sow in our souls the seed of power,

Then come and reap Tiiy harvest there.

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II.

In sun and moon and stars

Signs and wonders theie shall be ;
Earth shall quake with inward wars,

Nations with perplexity.
Soon shall ocean's hoary deep,

Toss'd with stronger tempests, risej
Darker storms the mountain sweep,

lledder lightning lend the skies.
Evil thoughts shall shake the proud,

Racking doubt and restless I'earj
And, amid the thunder cloud.

Shall the Judge of men ajjpear.
And though from that awful face

Heaven shall fade and earth shall fly,
Fear not ye, His chosen race.

Your redemption draweth nigh.

III.

Now gird your patient loins again,

Your wasting torches trim ;
And Chief of all the sons of men, —

Who will not welcome llim ?
Rejoice, the hour is near, at length

The Journeyer on His way
Comes in the greatness of his strength

To keep His holy day.
With cheerful hymns and garlands sweet,

Along His wintry road.
Conduct Him to his green retreat,

His sheltered, safe abode;
Fill all His courts with sacied songs j

And from the temple wall
Wave verdure o'er the joyful throngs

That crowd His festival.
And still more greenly in the mind

Store up the hopes sublime
Which then were horn for all mankind,

So ble-ised was the time;
And underneath those hallowed eaves

A Saviour will be born
In every heart that Him receives

On His triumphal morn.

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O haste the rites of tliat auspicious day.

When white-robed altars wreathed in living green,

Adorn the temples, and, half- hid, half seen,

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The priest and people emulously pay

Glad homage, with the festal chants between;

And, aisles and arches echoing back the strain,

The sylvan tapestry around is stirred ;

And voices sweeter than the song of bird

Are resonant within the leafy fane.

If, in the fadeless foliage gathered there,

Pale Nature has so bright an offering,

Where all beside is withered, waste, and bare,

What lively tribute should our spirits bring

To beautify, O Lord, Thy holy place of prayer?

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SAINT JOHN THE BAPTIST.

A voiOB from the desert comes awful and still,
" The Lord is advancing — prepare ye the way,"

The word of Jehovah He comes to fulfil.

And o'er the dark world pour the splendour of day.

Bring down the proud mountain, though towering to heaven,

And be the lone valley exalted on high ;
The rough path and crooked oe mide smooth and even,

For Zion ! your King, your Redeemer is nigh.

The beams of salvation His progress illume.
The lone dreary wilderness sings of her God ;

The rose and the myrtle shall suddenly bloom.
And the olivo of peace spread its branches abroad.

A PRELUDE FOR CHRISTMAS.

Thb seer — that same Prophet child
Who dwelt in Sennaar undelil'd —
Foretold with fire arointed lips
The elder law's Apocalypse :
How, prone on Tigris shore, he saw
The vision filled with acts of awe —
All Heaven's designs in earthly things
The course of kingdoms and of kings —
Th' Egyptian's, Persian's, Grecian's fate;
But saddest sceno ! saw Sion's state —
The second temple overthrown
From pinnacle to corner stone—
The eternal sacrifice supprest

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Bu unbelievers from the west.
Dense darkness in Judean skies
Till Michael, Israel's Prince, arise —
And He, the Saint of sait ts, descend
On earth, captivity to end 1

Round rolled the times, and Asia knew
What Daniel saw. Then Rome outgrew
All other bounds. War's last wild roar
Lay hushed on the Cantabrian shore -
The Idol of the two-lold face
Looked on his temple's empty space. •
From the far frontier of the Medes
To where day stalls his weary steeds
All men adored at Ctesar's nod,
And frantic cried — a god 1 a god I
Then when the day had come, and hour,
Augustus spake the word of power,
And kings and consuls, east and west,
Flbw to obey their lord's behest —
" Number the nations who obey
Thioughout the world the Roman sway."

Then throng' d to tryst earth's ev'ry tribe

Kindred to km, from ev'ry side ;

O'er seas .and Alps lost exiles came.

Rivers reversed — some source to claim :

Ganges to Gades — floods of men

Thronged fleet and port and foot marked glen-

The very desert seemed to be

Peopled by Cffisar's dread decree —

"Number the nations who obey

Throughout the world the Roman sway.'

Lo I from their Galilenn home

Where two of Ctesar's .subjects come I

Like loving sire and daughter, they

Hold reverent converse on their way.

Afoot and simply clad, yet grace

Abundant shines in either face ;

He, Heli's son, a serious man,

Whom every sign sneaks artisan :

iihe^ fairest ci'all Israel's fair,

All heavenly goodness in her air,

Conscious of royal David" s blood

And of her holy motherhood.

Turns to her guide with filial ear,

Well pleased his reverent speech to hear.

* The temple of Janus was shut at Rome in the 40th year of Augu.'<tus, tho
year of our Lord's birth at Bethlehem Judah, and remained shut tor t^e
supposed space of twelve years.

102

December's brenth breathes k«»en and chill

On Jacob's well from Ebal's hill,

The wintry sun looks worn and dim

On fcfichem from Mount Gerizim,

As paces slowly from the North

That mother near her baby's birth,

Through ways Samarian, rude and w^ild,

Borne and not bowd, by such a child I

For thou Ephrata * art to be

The Man-God's destined nursery !

For Thee alone, the star shall rise I

For Thee alone the morning skies

Slnll brighten to the angelic song.

Above the troubled shepherd throng !

For Thee, those Angel-aided seers

By Ader's t tower, shall calm their fears,

And ravished by the he;»venly strain,

Shall seek their Lord beyond the plain 1

For Thee, the star-led Magi bring,

From the far East theii- offei-ing I

For Thee, shall guilty ITerod quiver,

Ephrata ! blessed be thou forever 1

Draw we the veil — this mystery
Is all too bright for mortal eye ; —
How shall it then by mortal tongue
In earthly strain, be fitly sung '/
In Heaven alone, by His own choir,
Where dwells the glorified Desire,
Can worthily be raised the psalm
That hailed on Earth the dread I AM

THE ANNUNCIATION OF THE BLESSED
VIRGIN MARY.

]

Oh ! Thou who deign'st to sympathize
With all our frail and Hc-hly ties,

M ikor, yet Brother dear.
Forgive the too presumptuous thought
If, calming wayward grief. I sought -

To gaze on Thee too near.

* Ephrata; the original (Jobusite) name of Bethlehem.

t Ader ; a very ancient Christian ti'aiiition puintod to the tower of Ader
as the scene of the revelation of Christ's birth to the shepherds, •' who were
in that country." (St. Luke's (iospol, chup. ii, 8.)

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Yet 3ure 'twas not presumptuous, Lord,
^Twaa Thine own comfortable word

That made the lesson known :
Of all the dearest bonds we prove,
Thou countest sons' and mothers' love

Most sacred, most Thine own.

When wandering here a little span
Thou took'st on Thee to rescue man.

Thou hadst no earthly sire ;
That wedded love we prize so dear,
As if our heaven and home were here.

It lit in Thee no fii e.

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On no sweet sister's faithful breast
Would'st Thou Thine aching forehead rest.

On no kind brother lean :
But who — oh perfect filial heart.
E'er did like Thee a true son's part

Endearing, firm, serene ?

Thou wppt'st, meek maiden, mother mild.
Thou wept'st upon thy sinless child,

Thy very heart was riven :
And yet, what mourning matron here,
Would deem thy sorrows bought too dear

By all on this side Heaven ?

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A Son that never did amiss.

That never shamed His mother's kiss.

Nor crossed her fondest prayer :
Even from the tree He deigned to bow
For her His agonized brow,

Her, His sole earthly care.

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Ave Maria ! Blessed Maid !
Lily of Eden's fragrant shade,

Who can express the love
That nurtured thee so pure and sweet,
Making thy heart a shelter meet

For Jesus ? Holy Dove I

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Ave Maria ! Mother blest,

To whom caressing and c:iressed

Clings the Eternal Child :
Favoured beyond Archangels' dream.
When first on thee with tenderest gleam

Thy new-born Saviour smiled.

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^•leased is the womb that bear Him — blesseifl
The borom where His lips were pressed,

But also blessed are they
Who hear His word and keep it well,
The loving homes where Christ shall dwell.

And never pass away.

HYMN ON THE NATIVITY.

O LOVELY voices of the sky,

That hymn'd the Saviour's birth I
Are ye not singing still on high,
Ye that ^ang, " Peace on earth? "
To us yet speak the strains

Wherewith, in days gone by
Ye bless' d the Syrian swains,
O voices of the sky !

clear and shining light, whose beams,

That hour Heaven's gloiy shed
Ar-^und the palms, and o'er the streams,
And on the Shephei-d s head ;
Be near, through life and death.

As in tiiat holiest night
Of Hope, and Joy, and Faith,
O clear and shining light 1

O star which led to Him, whose love
Brought down man's ransom free;
Where art thou? — 'Midst the hosts above^
May we still gaze on thee ?-
In heaven thou art not set,

Thy rays earth might not dim^
fiend them to guide us yet I
O star which led to Him 1

A BETHLEHEM HYMN.

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He is come, the Christ of God,-
Lett lor us His giad abode,
Stooping from IJis throne of bliss,
To this darksome wilderness.

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He has come, the Prince of Peac«- j
Come to bid our boitows cease,
Come to scatter with His light,
All the shadows of our night.

He, the Mighty King, has come !
Making this poor earth His home,
Come to bear our sins' sad losul j
Son of David, Son of God.

He has come, whose name of grace
Speaks deliverance to our race,
Left for us His glad abode,
Son of Mary, Son of God.

Unto us a Child is bom !
Ne'er has earth beheld a mora
Among all the morns of time.
Half so glorious in its prime.

Unto us a Son is given !
He has come from God's own heaven;
Bringing with Him from above,
Holy peace and holy iove.

BETHLEHEM.

What are these etherial strains.

Floating o'er Judea's plains ?

Burning spirits throng the sky.

With tbeir lofty minstrelsy I

Hark ! they break the midnight trance

With the joyous utterance.

•' Glory to God and peace to men,

Chi'ist is born in Bethlehem 1 "

Quench, ye types, your feeble ray,
Shadows, ye may melt away ;
Prophecy, your work is done,
Gospel ages have begun I
Temple 1 quench your altar fires,
For these radiant ang si choirs,
To a ruined world proclaim,
Christ is born in Bethlehem.

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Pillowed is HIb infant he»d
On a Loiicved manger bed !
Be, around whobe throne above,
Angels hymned their songs of love,
Now is wrapt by virgin's binds.
In earth's meanest swaddling bands;
Once adored by seraphim, —
Now a Babe of Bethlehem.

Eastern sages from afar,
Guided by a mystic star,
Followed till its lustre mild
Brought them to the Heavenly Child
Iday each providence to me
Like a guiding meteor be,
Bringing neaier unto tfim
Oncd the Babe of BetiUeheml

CHRIST'S NATIVITY.

VrHEN Jordan hushed his waters still,

And silence slept on Zion hill ;

Whei7 Bethlehem's shepherds thro' the night,

Watched oer their flocks by starry light j

Hark ! from the midni.Tht hills around,
A voice of moie tlum mortal sound,
In distant hallelujahs stole,
Wild murmuring o'er the raptured soul.

Then swift to every startled eye,
h'ew sti earns o\ gloiy light the s-ky;
Heaven burtts Ler ayuie pates to pour
Her opiiits to the midnight hour.

On wheels of light, on wings of flnme,
Q'lie glorious liof-ts of Zion ci me ;
High heaven with Kiigs- of tnumi^h rung,
While thus they t>1 1 i;. k iheii' haips and sung;

Zion ! lift thy raptured eye.
The long cxj eited hour is nigh;
The joys oi natuie rite again.
The Prince ol f-alem ccmes to reign.

See, Mercy, fi om her golden urn,

Pours a rich stieum to them that mourn ;

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Behold, ehe binds wilh tender care,
The bieedmg bosom of despair.

He comes 1 to cheer the tiembling heart,
Bid iSatun ond his hor-t depnit:
Agnin the dny-sttir gilds tl.ie gloom,
Again the bowers of Eden bloom j

O Zion! lift thy raptured eye,
The long-expected hour is nigh;
The joys of Natuie rise again,
The Prince of Salem comes to reign.

A CHRISTMAS CAROL.

It came upon the midnight clear,

That glorious t-ong of old,
From angels lending near the earth

To touch tlieir harps of gold : —
^'leace on the earth — good will to men,

From IToiiven's all gracious King" —
The woi Id in solemn stillness lay
I To hear the angels sing.

Still through the cloven skies they come.

With peace! ul wings unfurled,
And still their heavenly music floats

0"er nil the weary world ;
Above its sad and lowly plains

They bend on heavenly wing,
And evor o"er its Babel sounds

The blessed angels sing!

Yet with the woes of sin and strife,

The world has snfiered long.
Beneath the angel strain have rolled

Two thousand years of wrong;
And mnn, at war with man, hears not

The love song which they bring,
O ! hush the noise, ye men of strife.

And hear the angels sing I

And ye, beneath life's crushing road,
vVhose forms aie bending low,

Who toil along the climi-li.^ ..../
With painful steps and slow;

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Look now ! for glad and golden houi>

Come swiftly on the wing-
01 rest beside the weary road,

And h«ar the angels sing !

For lo, the days are hastening on

By prophet bards i'eretold,
When with the ever-circling years

Comes round the age of gold;
When peace shall over all the earth

Its ancient splendour fling,
And the whole world send back the song

Which now the angels sing !

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CAROL.

Not in halls of regal splendour,

Not to princes of the earth,
Did the herald angels lender

Tidings of their monarch's birth j
Not to statesmen, priest or sage,
They proclaimed the golden age,
'Twas the poor man's heritage —

For on shepherds lowly

Burst the anthem holy:
In excelsis gloria,
Et in terra pax t

Not by worldly wealth or wisdom.

Not by power of law or sword,
But by service to win freedom,

And by sorrow, bliss allbrd —
Born to poverty and pain.
Born to die and thus to reign,
Rescuing man from Satan's chain —

Jesus now rules o'er us,

Swell the Joyful chorus !
In excelsis gloria,
Et in terra pax !

Glory be to God in heaven.
Peace on earth, goodwill lo men T

In the higliest. praise be given !
Angels! strike your harps again !

Justice has on Mercy smiled,

God and men are reconciled

109

Through Emmanuel new-bom child.
Blend we then our voices,
Earth with heaven rejoices,
In excelsis gloria,
£t in terra pax !

Bid the new-born Monarch welcome,

Pay Him homage every heart I
Hallelujah I let His kingdom

Swiftly spread in every part :
War and bloodshed then shall cease,
Selfishness its slaves release,
Love shall reign, and white-robed Peace ;

Then from earth as heaven,

Praise shall aye be given —
In excelsis gloria,
Et in terra pax I

CHRISTMAS.

Christians, awake 1 salute the happy mom,
Whereon the Saviour of mankind was bom j
Kise to adore the mystery of love,
Which hosts of Angels chanted from abov«» :
Wi.ih them the joyful tidings first begun,
Of God Incarnate, and the Virgin's Son.

Then to the watchful shepherds it was told
Who heard the angelic herald's voice, "Behold,
I bring good tidings of a Saviour's birth.
To you, and all the nations upon earth ;
This day hath God fultiU'd His promised word,
This day is born ft Saviour, Christ the Lord."

He spake; and straightway the celestial choir
In hymns of joy, unknown before, conspire ;
The praises of redeeming love they sang.
And heaven's whole orb with hallelujah rang;
God's highest glory was their anthem still,
Peace upon earth, and unto men good-will.

To Bethlehem straight the enlighten'd shepherds ran^
To see the wonders God had wrought for man ;
Then to their Hocks, still praising God, return.
And their glad hearts within their bosoms burn ;
To all, the joyful tidings they proclaim ;
The first Apostles of the Saviour's fame.

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Oh ! may we keep and ponder in our mind
God's wondrous love in saving lost mankind ;
Trace we the Babe, who hath retrieved our loss^
From the poor manger to the bitter cross;
Tread in His steps, assisted by His grace,
Till man's tirst heavenly state again takes place.

Then may W3 hope, the angelic hosts among,
To join, redeemd, a glad triumphant throng j
He that was born upon this joyful day,
Around us all His glory shall display :
Saved by His love, incessant we shall sing
Eternul praise to heaven's Almighty King.

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ADESTE FIDELES

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O COMB, all ye faithful,

Joyfully triumphant ;
O come ye, O come ye, to Bethlehem ;

Come and behold Him,

Born the King of Angels :

O come, let us adore Him,

O come, let us adore Him,
C come, let us adore Him, Christ the Lord.

God of God,

Light of Light,
Lo I He abhors not the Virgin's womb;

Very God,

Begotten, not created ;

O come, lei us adore Him,

O come, let us adore Him,
O come, let us adore Him, Christ the Lord..

Sing, choirs of Angels,

Sing in exultation,
8ing, all ye powers of heaven above ;

Glory to God

In the highest,

O come, let us adore Him,

O come, let us adore Him,
come, let us adore Him, Christ the Lord»

Yea, Lord, we greet Thee,
Born this happy morning, .

Jesv, to Thee be glory given ;

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Word of the Father,
Now in fl«»«h appearing;
O come, let us adore Him,
O come, let us adore Him,
O come, let us adore Uim, Christ the Lortt^

THE INCARNATION.

For Thou wast born of woman, Thou didst come,
O Holiest 1 to this world of sin and gloom,
Not in Thy dread omnipotent array ;

And not by thunders strew" d,

Was Thy tempestuous road ;
Nor indignation burned belbre Thee on Thy way.

But Tliee a soft and naked Child,

Thy Motlier undetiled,

In the rude manger laid to rest

From off her virgin breast.

The heavens were not commanded to prepare

A gorgeous cimopy of golden air;

Nor stoop'd their lamps th' enthroned fires on higk

A sinorle silent star

Came wandeiing from afar,
Gliding uncheck'd and calm along the liquid skyj

The eastern sages leading on.

As at a kingly throne,

To lay their gold and odours sweet

Before Thy mtant feet.

The earth and ocean were not hush'd to hear
Bright harmony from ev'ry starry sphere;
Nor at Thy presence brake the voice of song j

From all the cherub choirs.

And seraph's burning lyres,
Pour'd through the host of heaven the charmed cloud along ;

One angel troop the strain began,
. Of all the race of man.

By simple shepherds heard alone,

That soft hosanna's tone.

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CHRISTMAS DAY.

What sudden blaze of song
Spreads o'er th' expanse of heaven?
In waves of light it thrills along,
Th' angelic signal given —
"Glory to God ! " from yonder central fire
Flows out the echoing lay beyond the starry choir;

Like circles widening rcund
Upon a clear blue river,
Orb after orb, the wondrous sound
Is echoed on for ever :
" Glory to God on high, on earth be peace,
"And love towards men of love — salvation and releasA."

Yet stay, before thou dare
To join that festal throng ;
Listen and mark what gentle air
First stirr'd the tide of song;
'Tis not ; " the Saviour born in DavM's home,
^ To Whom for power and health obedient worlds should come/'

'Tis not ; " the Christ the l<ord : '' —
With fix'd adoring look
"Hie choir of Angels caught the word,
Nor yet their silence broke :
But when they heard the &ign. where Christ should b^
In sudden light they shone Jind heavenly harmony.

Wrapp'd in His swaddling bands.
And in His manger laid,
The Hope and Glory of all lands
Is come to the world's aid :
No peaceful home upon His cradle smil'd,
<Ouests rudely went and came, where slept the loyal Child.

But where Thou dwellest, Lord,
No other thought should be,
Once duly welcomed and ador'd.

How should I part with Thee? ,

Bethlehem must lose Thee soon, but Thou wilt grace
The single heart to be Thy sure abiding place.

Thee, on the bosom laid «

Of a Pure Virgin mind, '

In quiet ever, and in shade,

Shepherd and sage may find ;
They who have bowed untaught to nature's sway,
And they, who follow Truth along her star-pav'd way.

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The pastoral spirits first

Approach Thee, Babe Divine,
For they in lowly thoughts are mers'd
Meet tor Thy lowly shrine :
Sooner than they should miss where Thou dost dwell,
Angels from Heaven will stoop to guide them to Thy cell.

Still as the day comes round
For Thee to be reveal' d,
By wakeful shepherds Thou art found,
Abiding in the field
All through the wintry heaven and chill night air,
In music and in light Thou ^<\wn&dt on their prayer.

O faint not ye for fear —
What though your wandering sheep,
Reckless of what they see and hear,
Lie lost in wilful sleep ?
High Heaven in mercy to your sad annoy,
Still greets you with glad tidings of immortal joy.

Think on th' eternal home
The Saviour left for you :
Think on the Lord most holy, come
To dwell with hearts untrue :
So shall ye tread untir'd His pastoral ways.
And in the darkness sing your carol of high praise.

THE MADONNA AND CHILD.

Whent from Thy beaming throne.

Oh High and Holy One I
Thou earnest to dwell with those of mortal birth|

No ray of living light

Flashed on the astonished sight,
To shew the Godhead walked His subject earth.

Thine was no awful form,—

Shrouded in mist and storm,—
Of seraph, walking on the viewless wind;

Nor didst Thou deign to wear

The port, sublimely fair
Of angel heralds, sent to bless mankind.

Made like the sons of clay,
Tliy matchless glories lay
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In form of feeble infancy concealel ;

No pomp of outward sign

Proclnimed the Powei' i)ivine;
No earthly state the heavenly guest revealed t

Thou flidst not choose Thy home

Beneath a lordly dome ;
No royal diadem wreathed Thy baby brow;

Nor on a soft couch laid,

Nor in ri(^h vest arrayed,
But with the poorest of the poor wert Thou I

Yet She, whose gentle breast

Was Thy glad place of rest,
In Her the royal blood of David flowed,

Men passed her dwelling by

With proud and scornful eye.
But angels knew and loved her mean abode.

There softer strains she heard

Than song of evenmg bird.
Or tuneful minstrel in a queenly bower ;

And o'er her dwelling lone

A brighter radiance shone.
Than ever glittered from a monarch's tower.

For there the mystic star,

That sages led from far,
To pour their treasures at her Infant's feet,

ytill shed its golden light ;

There, through the calm, clear night,
Were heard angelic voices, strangely sweet.

Oh happiest Thou of all

Who bore the deadly thrall.
Which for one mother's crime to all was given;

Her lirtt of mortal birth

Brought ueath to reign on earth,
But I'hine brings light and life again from heaven!

THE STABLE AT BETHLEHEM.

T'WAS not a palace proud and fair,

He chose for His first home;

No dazz'ling pile of grandeur rare,

With pillar" d hall and dome ; —

Oh no I a stable, humble, poor,—

Eeceived Him at His birth ;

And thus was born, unknown, obscure, —

The Lord of Heaven and Earth.

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No band of anxious menials there,
To tend tlie new-hoin child.
Josej)!! alone nnd ^lary fair,
Upon the inlimt smiled ;
Ko broideied linens fine had they
Those little liuihs to told,
Ko baby gaiinents rich and gay,
'Ho tissues wrought with gold.

Come to your Saviour's lowly bed.

Ye vain and proud of heart I

And learn, with bowed and humbled head,

The lesson 'twill impart ; —

'Twill teach ye not to prize too high,

The riches vain of eirth, —

But lay up in yon glorious sky

Treasures of truer worth.

And ye, poor stricken sons of grief.
Sad "outcasts" of this life.
Come, too, — ye' 11 find a sure relief
For your hearts' bitter strife;
Look at Bethlehem's stable poor,
Your Saviour's lowiy cot,
"Will it not teach ye to endure.
Aye, yes, to bless your lot '?

THE EPIPHANY; OH, THE MANIFESTATION
OF CHRIST TO THE G-EN TILES.

Bkiohtest and Best of the sons of the morning
Dawn on our darkness, and lend us Thine aid I
Star of the East, the horizon adorning.
Guide where our infant Kedeemer is laid I

Cold on His cradle the dewdrops are shining I
Low lies His bed with the beasts of the stall I
Angels adore Him in slumber reclining,
Maker, and Monarch, aud Saviour of all [

Siiy shall we yield Him, in costly devotion,
Odours of Edom and offerings divine ;
Gems of the mountain, and pearls of the ocean,
Myrrh from the forest, and gold from the mine.

Vainly we off'er each ample oblation ;
Vainly with gold would His favour secure ;

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Richer by far is the heart's ndoration ;
Dearer to God are the prayers of the poor.

Brightest and B(>st of the sons of the morning,
Dawn on our darkness, and lend us Thine aid I
Star of the East, the horizon adorning,
Guide where our infant Redeemer is laid 1

THE STAR OF BETHLEHEM.

When marshall'd on the nightly plain
The glittering host bestud the sky ;

One Htiir alone, of all the train,
Can iix the sinner's wandering eye.

Hark ! hark to God the chorus breaks
From every host, from every gem ;

But one alone the Saviour speaks—
It is the Star of Bethlehem.

Once on the raging seas I rode,

The storm was loud — the night was dark—
The ocean yawn'd — and rudely blow'd

The wind that toss'd my foundering bark t

Deep horror then my vitals froze ;

Death-struck, I ceas'd the tide to stem ;
When suddenly a star arose <—

It was the Star of Bethlehem.

It was my guide, my light, my all,
It bade my dark forebodings cease ;

And thro' the storm and danger's thrall
It led me to the port of peace.

Now safely moor'd — my perils o'er,
I 11 sing, tirst in night's diadem,

For ever, and for evermore,
The star I— the Star of Bethlehem 1

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THE HOLY INNOCENTS.

Sat, ye celestiftl guards, who wait
In RetSileliem round the Saviour's palace gate,

.Siiy, who are these on golden wings,
That iiover o'er the new born King of king8|

Tlieir palms and garlands telling plain
That they are oi the glorious martyr train,

Next to yourselves ordained to pmise
His name, and brighten as on Uim they gaze 7

But where their spoils and trophies ? where
The glorious dint a martyr's shield should bear?

How chance no cheek among them weara
The deep worn ti-ace of penitential tears,

But all is bright and smiling love,
As if fresh born from Eden's happy grove,

They had Hown here, their king to see,
Nor ever had been theirs of dark mortality.

Ask, and some angel will reply,
*< These, like yourselves, were born to sin and die,

But ere the poison root was grown,
God set His seal and mark'd them for his own.

Baptised in blood for Jesus' sake,
Now underneath the Cross their bed they make,

Nov to be scard from that sure rest
By IVightend mothers' shriek or warrior's waving crest.'*

Mindful of these, the first-fruits sweet
Borne by the sutiering Church her Lord to greet.

Blessed .Jesus ever loved to trace
The " miioeent brightness" of an infant's face.

He i-aised them in His Holy arms,
He blessed them from the world and all its harms j

Heii's though they were of sin and shame,
He blessed them in Uis own and in His father's name.

Then, as each fond unconscious child
On tiie everlasting Parent sweetly smiled,

(Like infants sporting on the shore,
That tremble not at Ocean's boundless roar.)

Were tliey not present to Thy thought.
All souls, that in their cradles Thou hast bought?

But chieHy these, who died for Thee
That Thou might'st live for them a sadder death to see

And next to these. Thy gracious word
Was a pledge ot benediction, stored

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/or Christian mothers, while they moan
Their treasured hopes, just born, baptized and gone.

Oh ! joy lor Rachel's broken heart I
She and her babes shall meet no more to part ;

So dear to CJirist her pious haste
To trust them in His arms, for ever safe embraced.

She does not grudge to leave them there,
Where to behold them was her heart's first prayer j

She dares not grieve -but she must weep,
As her pale placid martyr sinks to sleep,

Teaching so well and silently
How, at the Shepherd's call, the lambs should die,—

How happier far than life the end
Of souls that infant-like beneath their burthen bend.

EACHEL WEEPING FOR HER CHILDREN.

Weep, weep not o'er thy children's tomb,

O Rachel ! weep not so :
The bud is cropt by martyrdom,

The flower in heaven shall blow.

Firstlings of faith ! the murderer's knife

Hath miss'd its deadly aim ;
The God, for whom they gave their life.

For them to sulier came.

Though evil were their days and few.

Baptized in blood and pain,
Eo knows them whom they never knew,

And they shall live again.

Then weep not o'er thy children's tomb,

O Racliel ! weep not so :
The hud is cropt by martyrdom,

The flower in heaven shall blow.

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THE PRESENTATION OF CHRIST
IN THE TEMPLE.

Softly the sunbeams gleamed athwart the Temple proud and

high,
Built up by Israel's wisest king to the Lord of earth and sky^
Lighting its gorgeous, sculptured root" and each shuiing mystic

fold
Of the sacred Veil from gaze profane, shielding the Ark of old.

Ne'er had man's bcasced art o'er- wrought a scene more rich

and bright,
Agate and porj>hyry — precious gems — cedar and iv'ry white,
Marbles of perfect polish and hue — sculptures and tintings

rare,
Costly satin and sandal woods embalming the sacred air.

But see — lo ! stealing up yonder aisle, 'mid forest of columns

high,
Comes a female form with timid step and downcast modest

eye;
A girl — to judge by the fresh young bloom adorning that

lovely face.
With locks of gold and vestal brow, and a form of childish

grace.

Yet, no, see those soft slight arms close fold a helpless, new-
bom child,

Late entered on this world of woe — still pure, still undefiled ;

Whilst the two white doves she humbly lays before the altar
there,

Tell, despite her girlish years, she knows a matron's joy and
care.

No fairer sight could heart have asked than that Mother and

that Babe,
E'en had He been the child of sin — bom to wrath and tne

grave,
But how must Angelic hosts have looked in breathless

rapture on.
Knowing that Child was the Temple's Lord — the Word—

th" Eternal Son I

Whilst she was that Virgin Mother pure, fairest of Adam's

race —
WTiom Heaven's Archangel, bending low, had hailed as full of

grace,
Mother of that Saviour God she held, close clasped unto her

breast,
That Mary, humble, meek, and poor, whom all ages have called

Blessed.

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THE PURIFICATION OF THE
BLESSED VIRaiN.

Blbss'd are the pure in heart, for they shall see our God,
The secret of the Lord is theirs, their soul is Christ's abode.

Might mortal thought presume to guess an angel's Uy —
Such are the notes that echo through the courts of Heaven
to-day.

Such the triumphal hymns on Sion's Prince that wait,
In. high procession passing on toward His temple-gate.

Give ear, ye kings — bow down, ye rulers of the earth —
Tliis, this is He j your Priest by grace, your God and King by
buth.

No pomp of earthly guards attends with sword and spear,
And all defying, dauntless look, their Monarch's way to clear I

Yet are there more with Him than all that are with you —
The armies of the highest heaven, all righteous, good, and true.

Spotless their robes and pure, dipped in the sea of Mght
That hides the unapproachdd shiine from, men's and angels,
sight.

His throne, thy bosom blest, oh Mother undefiled —
That throne, if aught beneath the skies beseems the sinless
Child.

Lost in high thoughts " whose son the wondrous Babe might

prove,"
Her guiltless husband walks beside, bearing the harmless dove.

Meet emblem of his vow, who, on this happy day.

His dove-like soul — best sacrifice did on God's altar lay.

But who is he, by years, bow'd but erect in heart.
Whose prayers are struggling with his tears 1 '• Lord, let me now
depart j

" Now hath Thy servant seen Thy saving health, oh Lord :
'Tis time that I depart in eace, according to Thy word."

Yet swells the pomp : once more comes forth to bless her God,
Full i'ouraco re years, meek widow, she her heavenward way
hath trod.

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She who to earthly joys so long had given farewell,

Now sees unlooked for, Heaven on earth, Christ in His Israel.

Wide open from that hour the temple gates are set,

And still the saints rejoicing there, the Holy Child have met.

Now count His train to-day, and who may meet Him, learn :
Him child-like sires, and maidens tind, where pride can nought
discern.

Still to the lowly soul He doth Himself impart.

And for His cradle aud His throne chooseth the pure in heart.

OUR SAVIOUR S BOYHOOD.

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With what a flood of mighty thought,
Each Christian breast must swell,

When wandering back through ages past,
Reflection, memory, dwell

On Nazareth's blessed and sacred sod ;

And the boyhood of the Saviour God.

Softly we picture ij ourselves.

That brow serene and fair,
Pure —passionless — the long rich curls.

Of wavy golden hair ;
And those deep, wond'rous, star-like eyes,
Holy and calm as midnight skies.

We see Him in the work-shop shed,

With Joseph, wise and good.
Obedient to His guardians word.

Docile and meek of mood ;
The mighty Lord of Heaven and Earth,
Toiling like man of lowly birth.

Or else with His young mother fair.

That sinless, spotless one,
Who watched with such fond, reverent cr.;-©,

Her high and glocious Son,
Knowing a matjon's Joys, griefs, pride,
And yet a Virgin pure beside,

All marvelled at the strange, shy grace

Of Mary" s getitle Son ;
Young mothers envieil hei" the Boy,

That love from all hearts won ■;

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And His face watching, sweet and mild,
Ariked low of Heaven such a child.

Amid the youth of Nazareth,

He mingled not in mirth,
And yet ail felt most strangely drawn,

Towards His modest wortli ;
Desjjite that quiet, wond'rous Child,
Ne'er laughed, perchance, nor even smiled.

How could He, say ! when clearly rose

Before His spirit's gaze,
The cruel Cross — the griefs, reserved

His Manhood's future days :
And worse tlian all, the countless host
That, spite his pangs, would yet be lost.

Silent — reserved — He held His way,

From morn till evening still,
His thoughts e'er bent on working out

His mighty Father's will;
Whilst angels bent in ecstacy
'Bove the Boy-God of Galilee.

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So saying, he took ( for still he knew his power
Not yet expired) and to the wilderness
Brought back the Son of Goil, and leit Him there.
Feigning to disajipear. Darkness now rose.
As tlaylight sunk, and brought in lowering Night,
Her shadowy otfspring ; unsubstantial both.
Privation mere of light, and absent day.
Our Saviour, meek, and with untroubled mind.
After his aery jaunt, though hurried sore.
Hungry and cold, betook him to his rest.
Wherever, under some concourse of shades,
Whose branching arms, thick intertwined, might shield
From dews and damps of night His sheltered head:
But, sheltered, slept in vain; for at His head
The tempter watched, and soon with ugly dreams
Disturbed His sleep ! And either tropic now
'Gan thunder, and both ends of heaven : the clouds
From many a horrid rift, abortive poured
Fierce rain with lightning mixed, water with fire
In ruin reconciled ; nor slept the winds

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Within their stony caves, but rushed abroad

From the four hinges of the world, and fell

On the vexed wilderness, whose tallest nines,

Though rooted deep as high, and aturd st oaks,

Bowed their stitf necks, loaden with stormy blasts,

Or toi-n up sheer. Ill wast Thou shrouded then,

O patient Son of God, yet only stood'st

(Jnshriken! Nor yet stay'd the terror there;

Infernal ghosts c id hellish furies round

Envii'onei Thee ; some howled, some yelled, some shriekedj

Some bent at Thee their tiery darts, while Thou

Safst unappalled in calm and sinless peace!

Thus passed the night so foul, till morning fair

Came ibrth, with pilgrim steps, in amice grey;

Who with her radiant finger stilled the roar

Of thund er, chased the clouds, and laid the winds,

And grisly spectres, which the fiend had raised

To tempt the Son ot God with terrors dire.

Ana now the sun with more eflectual beams

Had chceieil the face of earth, and dried the wet

From drooping plant, or dropping tree : the birds,

Who all things now behold more fresh and green,

After a niglit of storm so ruinous,

Cle;ired up their choicest notes in bush and spray,

To gratulate the sweet return of morn.

THE FASTINa.

The Son of God sought with His heavenly Father

To commune for a space ;
Let by the Spirit, He went up from Jordan

Into a deaert place.

What did IjTe meet with in the stony places?

Did the wild ass draw near ?
Did hunted ci-eatures come for His compassion,

Wild- eyed but void of fear?

Did no bird, wounded, hide herself before Him ?

No lizard dart away ?
Did the fox from her hole among the bushes

Brmg out her cubs to play ?

Amid the rocks and caves did He find shelter,

Drink where the runnels run?
Did the bee lead Him to her hoard of honey

When the long fast was done ?

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What were His meditations there we know not,

And words will not reveal
To lower souls what in its highest moments

The holiest soul may feel.

He went into the wilderness, thus making

A solemn pause between
The lite divine which lie must now accomplish,

And that where He had been.

The Son of Mary, subject unto Joseph,

And subject unto her ;
At Joseph's craft among the workmen working,

A village carpenter.

With bearing wood His hands have done for ever,

Until the cross they bear;
With driving nails, until the nails are driven

His tender hands that tear.

The Well-Beloved, the Father had declared Him,

His mission had begun,
And now He must arise and bring His brethren

To Him, who called Him Son.

CHRIST PERFORMING- MIRACLES.

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Look upon us from above,

Thou who taught the blind man's night

To entertain a double light,

Thine antl tlie day's (and that Thine too) j

The liimo away his crutches thiew j

TIjc parched crust of leprosy,

Returned unto its infancy,

The dumb amazdd was, to hear

His unchained tongue to strike his ear,

Thy powerful mercy did e'en chase

The devil from liis usurped place,

Where Thou Thyself shouldst dwell, not he,

Oh let Thy love our pattern be I

Let Thy mercy teach one brother

To forgive and love another.

They, copying Thy mercy here.

Thy goodness may hereafter rear

Our souls unto Thy glory — when

Our dust shall cease to be with men.

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SAINT JOHN THE BAPTIST BEHEADED.

Soft the summer sun is sinking through the sali'ron sky to

rest:
Soft the veil of sultry vapour trembles on the desert's breast:
Golden, crimson, purple, opal lights and shadows, warp and

woof,
Wrap the sands in change, and flush Machaerus' battlemented

roof,
Saying, " Tls my last," a captive rose from the cold dimgeon

floor,
Glank'd the fetters with his rising, lean'd the grated lattice

o'er, —
Gaunt albeit in manhood's prime, as he through bitter toils

had pass'd,
<<One look more on earthly sunsets; my heart tells me, 'tis

the last."

In his eye the fading sunlight linger'd on as loth to go,
Light to light akin and kindling, brotherlike ; and to and fro,
As the winds crept o'er the desert from the hills of Abarim,
From his brow his unshorn tresses flutter'd in the twilight dim.
Now and then a passing glory from the castle's biimiuet hall,
Where a thousand lamps bade thousand guests to royal festival,
Smote the topmost turrets' ridges with a gleam of rittul light.
As the woven purple hangings, sail-like, caught the gales of

night :
Now and t m a gush of laughter; now and then a snatch of

song,
Seem'd to mock the prisoner's vigil, and to do his silence

wrong.
Never a word spake he; but, gazing on the hills and skies and

stars,
Free in thought, as Arab ranger, maugre manacles and bars,
Lived again his life, its daybreak with no childish pastimes

boon.
Morning, midday, and now evening, ere it well was afternoon.

Meet his early homjstead : westward of that sea where pliej

no skiff,
On the bare bleak upland, nestling only to the rugged cliff,
Far from all the noise of cities, far from all their idle mirth.
Where God's voi^e was heard in whispers, and the heaven!

were near to earth,
There he grow, as grows the lonely pine upon the foreland's

crest,
Fronting tempests, northward, southward, sweep they east ot

sweep thoy west,

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Wrapping round the rocks her roots like iron bands in breadth

and length,
Here and there a moss or lichen shedding tenderness on

strength.
Thus he grew; the child of age, no brother clasp'd in equal

arms,
No sweet sister throwing o'er him the pure magic of her

charms ;
tieir of all his father's ripe experience both of things and

men.
Ripen d by the mellow suns that shine on threescore years and

ten ;
Heir of all his saintly mother's burning concentrated love.
Pent for decades and now loo<en"d by a mmdite from above.
For the rest, no human friendship shared his fellowsliip with

God,
Lonely like the lonely Enoch was the path his spirit trod:
Meet for him whose leirle-is bannerwis ere long aloft unfufl'd,
God's ambassador, Christ's herald, in a lapsed and guilty world.

Gliding years passed on; and childhood grew to youth, and

youth to prime:
Bodings fill'd the land, and rulers call'd the age a troublous

time.
Let it be— all time is troublous; and there is no crystal sea
Betwixt FJden and the trumpet ushering in the great To Be.
Nathless storms were rife, and rumours each the other chased

from Rome,
Though their echo knock' d but feebly at the porch of that far

home ;
And they scarcely stirr'd the pulses in the old man's languid

heart,
As he pled the prayer of Simeon, " Let me now in peace

depart; "
Scarcely jarr'd the heavenly foretastes of the rapt Elizabeth,
Oft as was her wont repeating, " Welcome life, thrice welcome

death."

Droop'd they both with drooping autumn, with the dying

year they died.
And in one deep stony chamber slumber gweetly side by side;
But before they slept confided to the Baptist's ear a story.
Richer heir- loom, loftier honour than the wide world's we « 1th

and glory : —
From his sire he heard the marvel of his own prede-<tined birth,
From his mother's Ups a mystery which transcends all things

of earth.

Now the lonely home waa lonelier, now . the silence more
unmarr'd,
Now his rough-spun dress was rougher, and his hardy fai'd
more hard.

' \

127

Yet he moved not. God who guided Israel o'er the trackless^

waste,
When his hour was come, would call him j and with God there

is no hi^te.
Meanwhile of all sacred stories, which his bosom fired and

tiUd,
One, the Tishhite, more intensely through and through his

bosom thrill'd.
O that SiicriHce on Carmel;— O that fire that fell from

heaven;
O that nation's shout "Jehovah;" — that bloody stormy

even : —
thit solitary cavern ; — that strong and dreadful wind ;
Rocking earthi I uake, flames of vengeance ; O that still small

Voice be land :
Those long j'ears of patient witness, crown'd by victoiy at

last :
Israel's chariot, Israel's horsemen ! like a dream the vision

pass'd.
"Would to God the prophet's mantle might but fall upon

my soul !
Would to God a seraph touch me with Esaias' living coal ! "

As he pray'd, his soul was troubled with a sudden storm of

thought,
And agim was hush'd in silence with i^rofounder feeling

fraught :
And the Spirit's accents, — whether on his mortal ear they fell.
Or without such audience trembled on his spirit, none might

toll,
But they came to him. The altar had been built and piled

■ and laid :
God himself alone must kindle that which He alone had made.

Through the crowded streets of Salem, see, they whisper

man to mm,
Like a fl ish of summer lightning through the heavens, the

tidings ran :
"In the wilderness by Jordan unto us a Voice is sent,
God is on His way. His herald cries before He comes, Repent."

On the mark of busy traffic, on the merchant's growing

hoard,
On the brid«^groom's perfumed chamber, on the banquet's

festive board.
On the halls where pleasure squander'd all the heaps of

avarice,
On the dreams of blind devotion, on the loathsome haunts of

vice,
Like a thunder-roll the tidings fell, and lo ! the sudden gloom
Then and there gav e fearful presage of the coming day of

doom.

128

But the workman left his workshop, and the merchant left

his wares,
And the miser left his coSers, and the Ph irisee his prayers :

l-'-\H>

From Jerusalem to Jordan, see they pour a motley group,
Young men, maidens, old men, children, priests and people^

troop on troop :
Neighbour thought not now of neighbour, parent scarcely

thought of child :
There were few who spoke or answer' d, there were none who

jeer d or smiled :
No one wept : tyrannic conscience seal'd their eyes and ears

and lips,
And Eternity was shadowing Time with terrible eclipse.

if'!: J ,;,/

]'4 .

There it wound that ancient river: there he stood, that

lonely man.
Is it yet too late ? to rearmost some shrank back, some forward

ran:
Brave men quail'd, and timid women bolder seem'd beneath

his eye :
Age grew flush'd, and youth grew paler, and the voice was

heard to cry,
" God is on His way. The Judge already stands before the

gate.
Make the lofty low before Him, rugged smooth, and crooked

straight."

As the multitudes in thousands round him throng'd, a

timorous flock,
Fell his words like hail in harvest, like the hammer on the

rock,
Breaking stony hearts to shivers, cloaking, sparing, softening

nought.
But with lightning flash revealing midnight mysteries of

thought.
God was Master, man was servant ; right was right, and wrong

was wrong :
Sinners might dream on a little, but the respite was not long.
Good or evil fruit-trees — whether of the twam? no test but

fruit :
Cut it down ; the fire is kindled, and the axe lies at the root.
Wherefore call themselves the children of the God-like

Abraham ?
Things that are alone are precious unto the supreme I AM.
Generation bred of vipers, wherefore are they pale and dumb?
Will they flee ? oh, who hath warn'd them of the dreadful

wrath to come ?
Are the dry bones stirring, breathing ? God can raise up

men from stones.

120

3e© the Lamb, the dying Victim ! only lifo for life atones :
And the deep red current, flowing from the firstlings Abel

vow'd,
Cries from age to age for'mercy, louder yet, and yet more loud,
Till the siicrifioe be ofFer'd for the world s stupendous guilt,
And the I/imb of God is smitten on the altar God hus built.
Is the hard heart bruised and contrite? Do they weep and

vow and pray ?
It Ls well ; let Jordan's waters wash their loathM stains away.
But the coming One, whose coming now was every moment

nigher,
He, the Son of God, baptizes with the Holy Ghost and fire :
In His hand the fan that winnows ; at His feet the harvest

floor;
Chafr the food for quenchless burnings ; garner'd wheat for

evermore.

So it was from dawn in sunset, so it was from day to day,
Thousantls coming, tiiousanrl'f going till the summer wore

away:
Ever seemM the voice more solemn, and the message more

sublime :
Jordan's lonesome fords were crowded like God's hill at Pas-
chal time.
When one eve, — the roseate West was watching for the tardy

sun, —
Mingling with that th.vong of sinners came the Only Sinless

One;
And the Master knelt a suppliant, and abash' d the servant

stood,
While the holy Christ demanded baptism in tl\at cleansing

flood.
It is done : Messiah rises from the parted waves ; and lo,
The blue heavens are rent asunder, and a Dove, more white

than snow,
From the gates of light descending like a crown of glory glow'd,
Moving towards Him, hovering o'er Him, brooding on His

head, abode :
And a Voice more deep than thunder from the everlasting

Throne,
^Thou, my Son, my well Beloved, Thou art my delight alone."

This the Baptist heard. And straightway Love Divine his soul

possess'd.
Henceforth all his yearning spirit found its centre, knew its

rest.
Solitudes no more were lonely, wildernesses were not wild :
He had seen the Word Incarnate, seen the Father's Holy Child.
And the pure ideal imaged in his heart of hearts was such
'ITiat no earthly joys could dim it, and no human sorrows touch.

V i ' »

I '.i

|iil!li

r hi:

Let the vex'd waves surge aroun<l him ! Welcome wearin

and strife !
Christ was now his peace, his passion — the one passion of his

life.
He must decrease, Christ must increase, and His kingdom

know no end,
He had heard the Bridegroom's accents, he was adl'd the

Bridegroom's friend.
Be it that his days were number'd; this was joy enough fbi

bim;
And his cup of life was mantling to the overflowing brim.
Let his larni» grow pale and paler ; only let the Sun be bright,
And the day-star hide its radiance in that perfect Light of

Light.

So his breast grew calm and calmer, less of self and seltish

leaven ;
So the fire burn'd pure and purer, less of earth and more of

heaven ;
And a loftier hope sustain'd him, as his destined path he trod,
Preaching a world-wi<le salvation, heralding the Lamb of God !
And the voice rang in the palace, as in hovel and in tent,
" Lo the coming One is come : His kingdom is at hand — repent."

Herod heard him, and Heiodias, seated on their ivory throne.
Something in them craved an audience, and he spake to them

alone ;
Spake of sin and death and judgment, things done wrong and

undone things.
What to him a royal sinner ? He had seen the King of kings !
Herod trembled : deeds of rapine cluster' d round his bygone

path.
Spectres of departed passions, harbingers of coming wrath.
Bid them all avaunt for ever 1 Blot them from his feverish

view !
Still forgotten crimes are rising, and his tortured soul pursue.
He will doff his purple robes, in sackcloth and in ashes lie.
What is time ? A day dream Oh, that burning word,

eternity !
Not enougji ? Why looks the Baptist with that fix'd and

solemn gaze ?
Gold and silver, pearls and rubies, on the temple gate shall

blaze.
Not enough ? Why looks the Baptist piercing through his

soul and life ?
Ha ! the queen, his royal consort ! nay, his brother Philip's

wife.
Herod shrank, but smiled Herodias, though the gathering

vengeance drain'd
lip of blood, and cheek of blushes. Further answer she

diBdain'd,

161

But arose, drew foith the iiDuiroh, s.tid their royal tryst wa^

oer ;
And thit night in chiins the B.iptidt pre.sso<l Mvch.erus

dungeon floor.

Thrice sinoo then had springandsiiramercarpeted the earth

with Hovveid :
But thoMe drejiry wills unchmging fenced his slow un'l

changeless hoiu-,
Save there grow twixt blocks of granite from some chance

sown s('o 1. !i fern -.
And the ciiptive w.itched it ever with the d iyHght"s fir>t

retuiii,
Drinking in the euliedf. sunbe xm, beided with it.sdewy tears.
All its tender leaflets laden and ombo-;s'd for future ye irs.
And it spake to him. It dinu'ed there visited his lonely

cell,
Chuza, sene-ichd of Herod : and n woid of power that fell
From the Lipti^ts lip~ found lodgment in the deep lepo.se

of thought
Hidden in a kindred natuie, truthful, generous, nobly wrought.
So it was, an unkn )wn fiioniishij) unsuspected entrance g lin-
For a lovo that loved their lu .^ter t.-etter, dearer for his chun> :
Whence he knew Oxe name was wafted now on every passing

breath,
Filling Judea's hills and valleys with the fame of Nazareth.
Joy for theel no weak re>^d shaken by the tickle, fitful wind :
No soft courtier clothed in i-aiment woven in the looms of

Ind:
true prophet, more than prophet ! voice of God ! Messiah's

friend !
Burning, shining, let thy beacon blaze unwavering to the end!

hall
his
ip'B
ring
she

Musing thus his past, the captive on his watch nor slept

nor stirrd.
And the hours slid by unheeded, and the cock crew twice

unheard ;
And the dewy stars more faintly glimmer'd in the doubtful

gloom.
And the bursts of mirth were fewer from the royal banquet

room.

Thither Galilee had summon'd all her loveliness and state,
And her loveliest there seem'd lovelier, and her greatness

there more gie at :
Flow'd the purple wine like water : Eden's perfumes fill'd the

hall;
And the lamps through roseate colours shed a soften'd light

on all.
Mirth and music hand in hand were floating through the fairy

scene ;

I, 1 .
|! » .

Pf'l

I . 3 .■ )

! . :

: .1

I; '1

i |i|

'I . •*

132

All were prai.^ing Horo<r« glory, all were lauding I[crod'9

queen ;
When at given sign waa silence, and tlie guoits reclined .around,
/Vnd a lonely hiu-per. waking from the chorda a tlrearalike

sound,
Breathed deliglit and soft enchantment over ear and heart

and soul :
None could choose but list, ami li.stening, none tlioir temlorest

thoughts oontiol :
When the young, the fair 8;dorae, from iier chamber gently

slid,
Nor loose veil, nor golden tresses half her mantling blushe.s

hid :
Young Salomd, sixteen summers scarcely on her bloom had

suiileil ;
Art was none, but artless beituty: Nature's simplest, fondest

child.
At tne banquet's edge ehe linger'd, to her mother's side she

press'd,
And assay'd to dance, and falter'd trembling — but again

caress'd,
As those wild notes with a stronger witchery on her spirit fell,
Stole into the inidst. and startled, timid as a young gazelle,
Trod the air with printless footsteps, as the breezes treiid the

sea,
Moved to every tone responsive, like embodied melody :
Till emboldeu'd, as she floated like a cloud of light along,
Mingled with melodious music gentler cadences of song,
And when every ear was ravish" d, every heart subdued with

love,
Dropp'd at length, as drops the skylark from its azure home

above,
Swiftly with an angel's swiftness, with a mortal's sweetness

sweet,
Glowing, trembling, trusting, loving — dropp'd at length at

Herod's feet.

Heaven be witness, Herod grants her the petition she prefers ;
Half his kingdom were mean <^lowry for a loveliness like hers.

To Herodias young Salome fondly turns, with grateful smiles;
Gold of Dphir, pearls of oce:m, nard aad spice of happier isles, —
What of choice and costly tre;isures, choicest, costliest, shall

she claim ?
Then a <^ are of fiendish triumph in that cruel cold eye came ;
And the queen's heiu-t heaved with vengeance; and she gasp'd

with quicken'd breath,
Brief words of euvenom'<l malice, warrant of the prophet's

detitli.

133

Why that sudden ashy pallor ? why that passionate careas ?
fiends the sapling in the tempest : weakness yields to wicked-
ness.

Musing till his past, the captive on his watch nor slept nor

Btirr'd,
And the dawn drew on unheeded, and the cock crew thrice

unheard.
Of the sentinels of morning, shining over Abarim.
Only one was left, tlie Day-star ; and its lamp was gi-owing dim.
Hark ! the bolt in drawn, how slowly : see ! the dungeon door

flung wide :
Weapons gleam along the passage : armed men are by his side.
In their looks he read his sentence, and he knew his hour

was come,
And his proud neck meekly offer'd to the stroke of martyrdom ;
And, as flusli'd the headm m s broadsword, rose the sun 0)i

ri^gah s height ;
And the morning star was hidden in the flood of golden lighi.

THE LEPER.

lers.

^iles!
es, —
I shall

ime ;
lasp'd

Lhot'fl

"Room for the leper ! room ! '' And as lie came.

The cry passed on — "Room for the leper! room!"

Sunri.se was slanting on the city gates

Rosy and beautiful, and from the hills

The early-risen poor were coming in.

Duly and cheerfully, to their toil, and up

Rose the sharp hammer's clink, and the far hum

Of moving wheels and multitmlos astir.

And all that in a city murnmr swells,

Unheard but by the watcher's weary en.

Aching with night's dull silence, or thu ^ii-k

Hailing the welcome light, and sounds tliai cfiase

The death-like images of the dark away.

"Room for the leper! " And aside they stoinl.

Matron, and child, and pitiless manhood — all

Who met him on his way — and let hiui pass.

And onward through the open gate ho came

A leper, with the ashes on his brow.

Sackcloth about his loins, and on his lip

A covering, stepping painfully and slow.

And with a difficult utterance, like one

Whose heart is with an iron nerve put down,

Crying, '• Unclean I Unclean I "

134

'Twas now the depth
Of the Judsean summer, and the leaves
Whose shadow lay so still upon the path,
Had budded on the clear and flashing eye
Of Judah's loftiest noble. lie was young,
And eminently beautiful, and life
Mantled in eloquent fulness on liis lip,
And sparkled in his glance ; and in his mien
There was a»gracious pride that every eye
Followed witli benisons — and this was he!
With the soft air of summci* there had come
A torpor on his fi-ame, which not the speed
Of his best barb, nor music, nor the blast
Of the bold huntsman's horn, nor aught that stirs
The spirit to its bent, might drive away.
The blood beat not as wont within his veins;
Dimness crept o'er his eye; a drowsy sloth
Fettered his limbs like palsy, anrl liis jjort,
With all his loftiness, seemed struck with eld.
Even his voice was changed — a languid moan
Taking the place of the clear, silver key ;
And brain and sense grew faint, as if the iight
And very air, were steeped in sluggishne^^s,
He strove with it awliile, as manhood will,
Ever too proud for weakness, till the rein
ftbckened vvithin liis grasp, and in its poise
The arrowy Jercoil like an aspen shook.
Day after day he lay as if in sleep ;
His skin grew dry and bloodless, and white scales
Circled with livid purj^lo. covered Iiim.
And then his nails grow black, and iell away
From tlic dull lle.ili about them, and the Imes
Deepened lieiieitli the hard uiiiuoistenod scales,
And from their edges grew the rank white hair,
— And llelon was a leper!

Day was breaking
When at the altar of the temple stood
The ludy })i'iost of God. The JMconse Inmp
Burned with a sti'uggling light, and a low clvmt
Swelleil thidugh the hollow arches of tlie roof
Like iin artimilate wail, and there alone,
Wasted to ginstly thinness, Helen knelt.
The eclioes o!' the melancholy strain
Died in the ilistant aisles, and he rose uj),
Struggling with weakness, and bowed down h'.s head
Unto the sprinkled ashes, and put olf
His costly raiment for the le])er's garb,
.And with the .sackcloth round him, and hi? lip
Hid in a loathsome covering, stood still,
Waiting to hear liis doom: —

]35

Depart ! dej^art ! O child
Of Israel, from the temple of thy God,
For He has smote thee with his chastening rod,

And to the desert wild.
From all thou lovest, away thy feet must flee,
That from thy plague His people may be free.

Depart, and come not near
The busy mart, the crowded city, more :
Nor set thy foot a human threshold o'er.

And stay thou not to hear
Voices that call thee in the way; and fly
From all who in the wilderness pass by.

Wet not thy burning lip
In streams that to a human dwelling glide :
Nor rest thee where the covert fountains bide ;

Nor kneel thee down to dip
The water where the pilgrim bends to drink,
By desert well, or river's grassy brink.

And pass not thou between
The weary traveller and the cooling breeze.
And lie not down to sleep beneath the trees

Where human tracks are seen ;
Nor milk the goat that browseth on the plain.
Nor pluck the standing corn, or yellow grain.

And now depart and when
Thy heart is heavy, and tliino eyes are dim.
Lift up tliy prayer Ije.seeciiingly to Him

Who, from the tribes of men,
Selected thee to feel his chastening rod.
Depart, oh lep(»rl and forget not (lod !

And he went forth — alone; not one. of all
The many whom he loved, nor she whose name
Was woven in the fibres of the heart
Breaking within him now, to come and speak
Comfort unto him. Yea, he went his way,
Sick, anrl heart-broken, nn<l alone, to die ;
For God hath cursed the leper !

It was noon.
And Ilelon knelt beside a stagnant pool
In tlio lone wilderness, and bathed his l)row,
Hot with the burning leprosj', and touched
The loathsome water to his parched lips,
Praying that ho might be so blessed — to die !
Footsteps approached, and with no strength to floe,
He drew the covenng closer on his lip,
<Jrying, '' Unclean ! Unclean ! " and, in the tbld.s

136

li' *

Of the coarse sackcloth, shrouding up his face,

He fell upon the earth till thej^ should pass.

Nearer the stranger came, and bending o'er

The leper's prostrate form, pronounced his name,

— "Helon I " — the voice was like the master-tone

Of a rich instrument — most strangely sweet ;

And the dull pulses of disease awoke,

And for a moment beat beneath the hot

And leprous scales with a restoring thrill."

" Helen, arise ! *' and he forget his curse.

And rose and stood VieCore llim.

Love and awe
Mingled in the regard of Jlelon'seye
As he beheld the stiuuger. He was not
In costly raiment clad, nor on Ilis brow
The symbol of a jjriiicely line ige woio :
No followers at His back, nor in His hand
Buckler, or swoid, or spear : — ^jet in His mien
Osmmand sat throned serene, and, if He smiled,
A kindly condescension graced His lips,
The lion would have crouched to in his lair ;
His garb was simple, and His sandals worn 5
His statue modelled with a perfect grace ;
His countenance, the impress of a God.
Touched with the open innocence of a child j
His eye was blue and calm, as is tlie sky
In the serenest noon ; His hair unshorn,
Fell on His shoulders ; and His (unling beard
The fulness of perfected manhood bore.
He looked on Melon earnestly awhile,
As if His heart was moved, and stooping down,
He tooka little watei- in His hand.
And laid it on his brow, and said. "Be dean !"
And lo ! the scales fell from liiui. and his blood
Coursed with delicious cooluoss rhrough his veins,
And his dry palms grew moist. an<l on liis brow
The dewy softiicsf^ of an inlant stole.
His lei^rosy was de msed, and he fell down
Prostrate at Jesus' teet, and worshipiiod Iliin.

THE WIDOW OF In' A IN.

:-|

j rM

\ ffl

;

Fhb saw him — Do ith's untimely prey,
Struck with the blight of slow de.'.line

Hhe watched his vigour waste away,
His ardent spirit droop and pine.

137

The rose upon his cheek, she knew,
Bloomed not with health's transparent hue ;
It was a softer, fainter glow —

A tint of fading loveliness,
Which told, a canker lurked below :
So gleams o'er fields of wintry snow

The pale moon cold and comfortless.
And oft she marked withiti his eye
A wild unwonted brilliancy —
The lovely but delusive ray
Of nature sinkmg to decay ;
And oft she caught his stifled moan —
It breathed a deep and hollow tone,
Which told of death, e'er life was gone.
At times, when fever's burning Hush
Heightened consumptions hectic blusli,
Fond hope — the latest still to leave,
The first to flatter and deceive —
Once more would brigliten — but to fly

When that false flusli forsook his cheek.

And spoke the pang he would not speak,
And froze her fears to certainty.
Nor deem it strange, th it hope had power
To soothe her soul in sucli an hour ;
Where time has rent the lordly tower,

And moss entwines the arcluis gray,
Springs many a light and lovely flower

That lends a luijtro to decay.

Thus, while existence wanes away.
Consumption's fevered cheek will bloom.

And beauty's brightest beams will play,

In mournful glory oer the tomb.

• • • « •

Whate'er his inward pangs might be,
He told not — mute, and meekly still
He bowed him to Jehovah's will,

'Nor murmured at the storn decree ;

For gently falls the ch istening rod

On him whose hope is in bis (iod :

For her, too, who beside his bod

Still watched with fond miternil care,

For her he breathed tlu^ {>i<)us pi-.iyer —

The tear of love and piiy sbe.d,

Oft would he bid her try to rest,
And turn his pallid fac;o away,
Lest some unguarded look betray

The pangs nor sigh nor sound expressed.

When torture racked his breast, 'twas known

By sudden shivering starts alone ;

Yet would her se u'ching glance espy

The look of stifled agony —

i-<

138

For what can 'scape a mother's eye ?
8he deemed in health she loved him more
Than ever mother loved before ;
But oh ! when tlius in cold decay,
So placid, so resigned ho lay,
And she beheld him waste away,
And marked that gentle tenderness
Which watched and wept for her distress :
Then did her transient iirmness melt
To tears of love, more deeply felt :
And dearer still he grew — and dearer —
E'en as the day of death drew nearer.

THE WIDOW OF NAIN.

Wake not, mother, sounds of lamentatioii !

Weep not, O widow, weep not hojielessly !
Strong is His arm, the Bringer of Salvation,

Strong is the Word of God to succour thee !

Bear forih the cold corpse, slowly bear liim :
Hide his pale features with the salilo pall :

Chide not the sad one wildly weeping near him ;
Widow'd and childless, slie had lost her all !

Why pause the mourners ? Wlio forbids our weeping ?

Who the dark pomp of sorrow has delay'd ?
'' Set down tlic bier — he 's not de:ul Int sleeping :

Young man, arise ! '' — lie spake, and was obey'd I

Change then, O sad one ! grief to exultation ;

Worship and fall before Messiali's knee ;
Strong WHS Ilis arm, the Bringer of Salvation ;

Strong was the Word of God to succour thee !

MARY MAGDALENE.

t J :

' !

Low at the Saviour's feet a guilty sinner bends ;

Up to His loving face a teaii'til glance she sends :
" Can one Himself so pure, of lineage so high,

The loatlisome sight endure of one so vile as 1 ? "

130

Around Ili.s weary feet her loving arms are cast,

Whilst tears of sorrow sweet fall o'er them ihick and fast j

Her long and flowing hair — the pr'nU- of woman's eye,
Is not esteem'd too fair to cleanse and wipe them dry.

How doth each warm ciress her clinging lips impart,
In language mute express the yearnings of her heart ?

That ointment rich and rare her povoity oould bring —
Its odours sweet declare 'tis no mean ottering.

The Pharisee and Scribe, exalted in their pride,
Can gaze in silent scorn, or turn their eyes aside ;

Can gather up their robes, an<l feign a pious fear.
Lest they should be detil'd e'en by her passing near ;

But from " the Sinner's Friend " — her gracious loving Lord-
No scornful looks descend, no proud, no angry word :

" Can He a prophet be,'' their wond'ring looks would say—
'■ And suffer such as she within His sight to stay? '

"Yes, sepulchres of sin ! who, whited fairly o'er,
Are dark and foul within, and rotten at the core ;

Yes, His keen gaze cfm pierce eacli human bosom through,
And to His searching eyes she's purer far than you !

•"She whom the righteous spurn— whom Publicans revile —
Whom sin's most loathsome marks deface, degrade, defile ;

Though on her guilty soul be many a deep, foul stain.
Her faith in Jesus' blood shall wash it pure again !

"But you — your lengthy pray'rs, hypocrisy and pride.
Long robes and pulilic alms, your (lod willjiot abide :

You have yoiu' poor reward in man's approving look,
But His indignant wrath such insult cannot brook."'

"Proud host, to thy high guest no water gavest thou ;

Thou gavest Him no kiss nu palliil cliook or brow :
Not even olive oil didst thou vouclisafe to shod.

In sweetly-soothing streams, "ipon tliat holy head.

" But she, with gushing teais. hith wjish'd His wayworn feet;

And hath not ceas'd to jnf^s fond kisses soft and sweet :
With those fair-flowing loi-ks which gnuo Iier downcast head,

Those feet were foiully di ied — witli rarest ointment spread."

''Ye Pharisaic tribe, wlio boa>t your.-elve-^ <o clear
From sin's polluting stains, loolv to your souls, and fear!

Ye feel no need of mercy, but claim a place above :

Awl thus for Christ your Saviotn-, how little is your love I

" But ye who, bow'd with sin. have coinited -lesus dear.
Ye in whose heiu'ts the stream^ of love run deep and clear, — >

Look, penitents, to Heaven I the Saviour loveth such —
" To you much is forgiven, for you have loved much ! "

.1 I

\jo

THE MEMORIAL OF MARY.

I" i !

I !•

:. i

Thou hast thy record in the monarch's hall,

And on the waters of the far mid sea ;
And where the mighty mountain-shadows fall,

The Alpine hamlet keeps a thought of thoe;

Where'er, beneath some Oriental tree,
The Christian traveller rests — where'er the child

Looks upward from the English mother's knee,
With earnest eye in wondering reverence mild,
There art thou known — where'er the Book of Light
Bears hope and healing, there, beyond all blight^

Is borne thy memory, and all praise above :
Oh 1 say what deed so lifted thy sweet name,
Mary I to that pure silent place of fame ?

One lowly offering of exceeding love.

THE NIGHT IN GALILEE.

Tossed by the ruthless sea,

Driven by the faithless storm,
A little bark right g;illantly

Uprears its little form.
But, in vain it breasts the wave,

With its puny wings outfipreiul;
No human aiil can save

That bai'k iVom a wat'ry bed.

A sickness as of death.

Seizes the little crew, —
And each man holds his breath,

For their moments can be but few.
But, amid the thickning gloom,

A spectre seems to rise,
As from the hideous tomb,

That yawns before their eyes.

And clearer, an<l more clear.

That awful vision grows, —
And the wild, slu-ill cry of fear.

With the voice of the tempest rose.
But words of love and peace

Are he u-d 'mid the storm and dark,-
And Jesus brings release

To the little sinking bark.

141

So, oft on the sen of life,

When our little bark is tossed,
And tvmid foul passions' strife.

Our every hope seems lost,
Jesus is Walking ne;\r

To still each rising wave, —
Our drooping hearts to cheer, —

Our drowning souls to save.

CHRIST STTLIJNO THE TEMPEST,

The storm was loud, the ship was tossed

On dark Gennesareth;
Their faith the twelve Apostles lost,

When face to hvce with death.

But safe they were in their alarm

Upon that raging sea,
No angry wind nor wave could harm

Those who were dear to Thee.

And ever in' the darkest night,

And in the wildest hour,
Thy love, oh Lord, can bring me light,

Thy voice put forth its power.

Light which, in shining, will impart

A holy joy an<l peace,
Power which can still the restless heart,

And Ind the tempest cease.

Why should this fluttering heart have fear

In darkness or in death.
While Thou my Saviour still art near,

To h'^lp its trembling faith?

Why doubt ac iJ Tiiou lOuldst deceive,

VVhy drooj) in hopeless grief,
While I can cry — Lord I believe.

Oh help my unbelief ?

If »■

Ih t

,1 ^1

142 "

THE KAI8ING OF THE DAUGHTKlt
OF JAIRUS.

TnK same silvery light
That shone iii»()ii the lone rock l>y the bei.
Slept on tlit^ ruler's lofty capitals,
As at the door he stood, and welcomed in
Jesus and his disciples. All was still.
The echoing vestibule gave hack the slide
Of their loose sandals, and the arrowy heam
Of moonliglit. slanting to the marble floor,
Lay like a sjjell of silence in the rooms,
As Jairiis led them on.

With hushing steps
lie trod the winding stair: but ere he touched
Tlie latchet, fiom within a whisper came.
''Trouble the master not; for she is dead! "
And his faint hand fell nerveless at his -'iufc,
And his step faltered, and his broken voice
Choked in its utterance: but a gentle hand
Was laid upon his arm, and in liis ear
The Saviour's voice sunk thrillingly and low,
'' She is not dead, but sleepeth."

They passed in.
The spice-lamps in the alabaster urns
Burned dimly, and the white and fragrant smoke
Curled indolently on the chamber walls ;
The silken curtains slumbered in their folds, —
Not even a tassel stirring in the air, —
And, as the Saviour stood beside the bed,
And prayed iuaudibly, the ruler heard
The quickening division of His breath
As He grew earnest inwardly. There came
A gradual brightness o'er His calm, sad face;
And drawing nearer to the bed. He moved
The silken curtains silently apart,
And looked upon the maiden.

Like a form
Of matchless sculpture in her sleep she lay, —
The linen vesture folded on lier breast,
And over it her white transparent hands,
The blood still rosy in their tapering nails.
A line of pearf ran through her parted lips,
And in her nostrils spiritually thin.
The breathing curve was mockingly like life ;

143

And round beneath the I'aintly tinted skin
Ran the liglit branches of the azure veins;
And on her cheek the Jet lash overlay,
Matching the arches penciled on her brow.
Uer hair had been unbound, and falling loose
Upon her pillow, hid her small round ears
In curls of glossy blackness, aiul nbout
Jler polished neck, scarce touching it, they hung.
Like airy shadows floating as they slept.
•Twas heavenly beautiful.

The iSiiviour raised
Her hand from off her bosom, and spread out
The snowy fingers in His pulm. and said,
•' Maiden ! arise ! " and suddenly a flash
Shot o'er her forehead, and along her lips '
And through her cheek tlio rallied colour ran;
And the still outline of her graceful form
Stirred in the linen vesture: and she clasped
The Saviour's hand, and, fixing her dark eyes
Full on Ilis beaming countenance, — arose !

THE llAISINO OF THE DAUOHTEI
OF JAIRUS.

They have watched her last and quivering breath,

And the m .tlen's soul has flown ;
They have wrapt her in the robes of death,

And laid her dark and alone.

But the mother c >ts a look behind,

Upon that fallen flower, —
Nay, start not, — 'twas the gathering wind :

Those limbs have lost their power.

And tremble not at that cheek of snow,

O'er which the faint light plays ;
'Tis only the crimson curtain's glow,

Which thus deceives thy gaze.

Didst thou not close that expiring eye,

And feel the soft pulse decay !
And did not thy lips receive the sigh,

Which bore her soul away ?

She lies on her couch, all pale and hushed,
A.nd heeds not thy gentle tread,

III

And is still as tho spring flower by traveller crushed|
Which dies on its snowy bed.

The mother hfis flown from that lonely room,

And the maid is mute and pale :
Her ivory hand is cold as the tomb, '

And dark is her stiffened nail.

Her mother strays with folded arms,

And her head is bent in woo ;
She shuts her thoughts to joy or charms I

Nor tear attempts to flow.

But listen ! what nime salutes her ear ?

It comes to a heart of stone ;
*' Jesus," she cries, "has no power here ;

My daughter's life has flown."

He leads the way to that cold white couch,

And bends o'er the senseless form ;
Can His be less than a heavy touch ?

The maiden's hand is warm I

And the fresh blood comes with a roseate hue,

While Death's dark terrors fly :
Her form is raised, and her step is true,

And life beams bright in her eye.

THE WOMAN OF CANAAN,

Praykr an answer will obtain,

Though the Lord awhile delay,
None shall seek His face in vain,

Nons be empty sent away.

When the woman came from Tyre,

And for help to Jesus sought,
Though Ho granted her desire,

Yet, at first, He answered not.

Could she guess at His intienfc,
When He to His followers said, —

* I to Israel's sheep am sent.
Dogs must not have the children's bread 7 "

She was not of Israel's seed.
But of Canaan's wretched race ;

• : '

145

'I'hought herself a dog indeoJ —
Was not this a hopeless case ?

Yet, although from Canaan sprun.i?,
Though a dog herself she styled,

She had Ismel's faith and tongue,
And was owned hy Abram's child.

From His word she draws a plea,
Though unworthy children's bread,

'Tis enough for one like me,
If with crumbs I may be fed.

Jesus then His heart revealed,

"Woman, cans't thou thus believe '.'

I to thy petition yield
All that thou cans't wish, receive."

'Tis a pattern set for us,

How we ought to wait and pray j
None who plead and wrestle thus,

Will be empty sent away.

THE TUANSFIOUR ATION.

In days of old on Sinai

The Lord Almighty came,
In majesty of terror,

In thunder-cloud and Hame :
On Tabor, with the glory

Of sunniest light for vest,
The excellence of beauty

In Jesus was exj ressed.

All light created pal^d thei e.

And did Him worship moel .
The sun itself adored Him,

And bowed before His feet :
While Moses and Elias,

iJpon the Holy Mount,
The co-eternal glory

Of Christ our God i-ecount.

O holy, wondrous vision !

But what, when, this life i> i-^t.
The beauty of Mount Tabor

Shall end in heaven at last .'
But what, when all the glory

Of uncreated light
Shall be the promised gue^lon

Of them that win the tight ?
10

146

THE TEN LEPERS.

I: 3i

'■iut-4

' i^ i!

'Neath the olives ofSjimaria, in far-famed Galilee,
Where dark green vines are mirrored in a placid silver sea,
'Alid scenes of tramjuil beauty, glowing sun-t-ets, rosy dawn,
The Master and Disciples to Je'usalem journeyed on.

And behold, as they were entering a hamlet still and fair,
A strange, imploring wailing rang out on the quiet air ;
Voices fniugiic with anguisli. telling of aching heart and brow,
And they moaned forth -Jesus, ALvster, on us have mercy

now ! "

Softly raised the gentle Saviour Mis eyes like midnight star,
And His mournful gaze quick rested on ten lejjers, who, afar,
Stood motionless and supplimt, in sackcloth rudely clothed.
Poor pariahs ! by their nearest, their dearest, shunned and
loathed.

Not unto Him prayed vainly, those sore-afflicted ton.
Ah ! lie yearned too fondly over the erring sons of men :
Ever sharing in their sorrows, though He shunned their

miithful feasts.
Kindly now He told the lepers, **Show yourselves unto tho

priests."

When, miracle of mercy! as they turned them to obey.

And towards the holy Temj)le (juickly take their hopeful way.

Lo. the hideous scales fell off them, health's fountains were

unsealed,
Their skin grew soft as infants — their leprosy was healed.

Oh ! man, so oft an ingrate, to thy thankless nature true,
Thyself, see in those lepei-s who (lid as thou dost do :
Nine went their way rejoicing, healed in body — glad in soul —
Nor thought of once returning to thank Him who made them
whole.

One only, a Samaritan, a stranger to God's word,
Felt his joyous, panting bosom, with gratitude deep stirred.
And without delay he hiistened, in the dust at Jesus' feet.
To cast himself in worship, in thanksgiving warm and meet.

Slowly questioned him, then Jesus, with majesty divine,

" Ten were cleansed from their leprosy — where are the other

nine ?
Is there none but this one stranger — unlearned in God's ways,
Hip name or mighty power, to give word of thanks or praise ? "

147

The sunbeams' quivering glories softly touched that Godlike

head,
The oUves blooming round Ilim, sweet shiu-le and fragrancd

shed,
Wiiilst o'er Ilis sacred features, a tender sadness stole.
*'Ki5e. go thy way,'' lie luunuured, "thy faith hath made

thee whole! "

LAZARUS.

It.

ler

P a,E was his brow, his flashing eye
Had fever's restless brilliancy !
The burning flush of hectic bloom,
But whisper'd of the hastening tomb;
The quivering lip all vainly strove
To breathe the wonted tones of love,
Yet trembled in a voiceless prayer
To Him, the Almighty Comforter.

He was the lovefl of many a heart,
U was he doom'd with all to part?
His bright youiig brow with hope's fair wreath

In rich and fragrant loveliness,
Had long been girlanded, nor breath

Of care awoke to chase
The fairy hues of golden light
That flash'd athwart his pathway bright:
U fair are youth's ench .ted dreams!
Its vernal joys, its rainbow gleams I
its tones of melody that fling
Sweet music as the voice of spring

Amidst her own bright blossoming I
Yet were they fleeting, as the pride
Of calm yet gorgeous eventide j —
Their beauty as a vision fair,
Was melting in immortal air ;
Their melody was hasting by,
A dream alone of memory.
But glories of a brighter shore
That sufferer's musings glided o''^i'}
His spirit at life's welling stream

Had quench'd its thirstings deep.
His heart had hail'd a heavenly bet-un,

Had joy'd the fruits to reap
Of peace and holiness that bloom' d

'>l'. '

: ik.

ij'

AtVesh wtien earthly hope wfis tom'od -.
And visions of the land of light
Burst on his raptured, dazzled sight,
The crown, the harp, the stany ihrone,
The glory of the great Three One!
The angel throng, the seraph lays,
The .--ymphony of ceaseless praise.
The music of unearthly lyres,
The rapture of celestial fires I
WhH.t though affection's sweetest ties
Might seek to win him from the skies I
Fond eyes of love with tearful rays
Rest on him in deep earnest gaze ;
Sad tones from kinrlred bosoms speak
Of hearts that sorrow nigh did break ;
Wild, bursting sobs of angui>h tell
Of love unknown, unsearchable;
Yet was his heart his treasure high,
In climes of immoitality !

A sister's love! that hallow'd light.
Who, who may quench in rayless night ?
Have we not shared one childhood's home,
One bower where sorrow might not come ?
Have we not round one happy hearth
Our bright hopes mingled, and our mi.th ?
Have we not the same fond eyes of love
Watch'd o'er our cradle rest, whilst wove
Bright Fancy many a w.e;!th of hope.
In love's deep shrine to treasure up ?
Have we not bent in twilight's hour,
Our simple orison to pour.
To Him who o'er our vernal way
Had flung a pure, a heavenly ray?
Have not our young gay dreams of liglit,
Ere time their loveliness might blight.
Together blent, while each glad hour,
Breeze, sunshine, frngrancy, and shower.
Shed on theii' joyousness, and bade
Them glow as ne'er in gloom to fade?
sacred is that spell ! a light
Flung o'er life's cnangeful pilgrimage-.
A star amid its care's deep night !
A balm its sorrow to assuage !

Such love around the sutt'erer clung:

Fond heai'ts, by withering anguish wrung,

Bent o'er his weary couch, as fain

To banish agony : yet vain

Eivch sister's sonowing tenderness,

Each throb of anguish and distress I

But must they part? The love of years,
'Plie mingled joys, and hopes, ani fnanj,
Long blended in each kindred heart, —
O must they prove the severing dart?
Deep love ! above the radiant sky
Lift up thy mourning, tearful eye !
Thou hast no dwelling place below,
Where sin and sorrow, care and woe,
Mity blight not with their mildew breath
The brightest of tliy treasured wieathl
'Tis past! e'en hope must vanish now I
T^I)on the bright and youthful brow.
Where raven locks in clustering pride,
Its marble paleness seek to hide,
Is set the signet stamp of death:
The weary pulse, tlio quivering l>ieath,
The gushing i>urple flood of lile.
The sigh, the tear, the mortal strife,
J lave cease I, — and on the drooping eye
The graves dark shadow mournfully,
llath fallen in the violet gloom
That speaks but of the quiet tomb.
Young lii'e hath pass'd, away I away!
The loved, the chorish'd, — he is clny!

Eve on tlie steeijs ol Ju<luij s luUg
Her golden liglit was strenming:
The melody of sounding rill<

Amid the olives glciiming,
But lent to stillness deeper power,
And Hung a charm o'er sunset's hour.
Within their liniely, silent home,
The mourncus wept in hopeless gloom;
The voice that to tlicir spirits brought
A thrill of happiness e'er sought;
The eye, whose ra'liant glance of light
!Might chase the clouds of sorrow's night;
The heart tlxat shared their every woe,
AH, all, alas! in ciust lay low.
Around them stood a sorrowing l)aji<l, >.
Who strove the balm to pour,
That friendship's eye, and lionrt. and li uid.

On stricken ones would showei ;
Still, still they wept : () to thoii grief
What earthly powoi' might bring relief'/
E'en sympathy's unutter'd sjjoll
But proved the h)st one loved too woU'f
Lo ! tidings of a guest revered,
By more than human ties endear'd,
Is to the house of mourning borne,

1 r,o

And o'er tlie sixtois' lio nts rorloiu,
Doth lUrth tlie wlif^lniiii* tliou^'lii — hfid He
Tlie ettranger, at tlicir lovoil om«> snle
Stood in the hour oi a^'ouy,

-He had not in his sj)i ing mom died !
Too hite ! the mortsd paiii^ was oer,
Nor aught niiglit wake the sl(Hij)er more!
Vet hastens ..\'artha, switt to greet
Jler Lord and .Mastoi: — nt His feet
Siie i'ell, And breathed iiei- woe's deep tide,
*' Had.st TIjou heen lieie. he had not died
() was it hut a joyous (heini
That flung a bright yet tieiiililing gleam
O'er her dark spiiit's iiii(hiigiit gloom,
That l)ade it rise above the tonil)?

One moment and a weeping M.uid
Aiound the pitying Saviour stand:
In vain the mourners strive to stem
Tlieir hopeless griel'. — doth Id' condemn'
< >r bid the sorrowing eeise to shed
The tear of anguish oer the dead?
\o : in His spirit's depths He gioans.
V» hile weei)ing Mary's piercing moans
Tlirili'd to His bosom's inmost shrine,
And lie. the Incarnate <iod J)ivine,
'i'iie Lord ot Liie. His throne who left
Fur earth's sad sojourn, — In. Ho wept!

(» He had known the ehoiish d ties
Tiiat link I'ond hmnan synipatiiies!
AikI oit with him who lowly laid
\\ ithin the dark grave's rayloss shade,
iiad l)lont in converso sncicd, — sweet,
In conununiiig I'or bi'ight worlds nu-et.
" lie loved him I" hallow'd is the s2)ell
Atfei^tion o'o!' the soul <loth iling,
S nee He. the fJod Invisilde.

Disdain d not its deep communing !
They led Iliin to the ^'o^-k h<'wn bed
V\ iiere slcj)! in die'iuless ro-t the dead:
Aihwart its slilhu'>s deep were thrown
Tiie shadows oi'a gjooni more lone.
Why doth Ho liid t!ie cin-ling gi'oup
Tiie stout' from that d .ik ci-ll liit up'.'
Iiath not 'li'cay iis victim ioiuul ?
Hath not the worm its i)ale I'orm wound?
What recks il .' 'Tis tlu- word ol' llim
Who spake iiu; woild IVoiii chaos dim!
Tlie cave is oped, anil to the skies*
Tlie Saviour lift^ lli^ pleadiui; eyes.

151

Tlien with a voice of heavenlj' might

He bids tiie dead uwuke to light '

And he tlie loved, the wept, the mourn'd.

To life and Ijeauty hath return'd !

Hath 'scaped from death's relentless hand,

And bendeth with the adoring band!

THE RAISING OF LAZARUS.

'Tis still thine hour, U Death !

I'hine, Lord of Hades, is the kingdom still ;
Yet twice thy sword unstained hath sought its sheath,

Though twice upraiseii to kill;
And on<'0 again tlie tonil»

Sliall yield its captured prey;
A mightier arm shall pierce the pathless gloom,

And rend the prize away:
-Nor comes thy Conqueror aimed with spear or sword —
He hath no arms but Prayer — no weapon but His Word.

'Tis now the fourth sad morn

Since Lazarus, tlie pious and the. just.
To his last home Ijy sorrowing kinsmen Ijorne

llatli parted, tlust to dust
The grave- worm I'e.els now

Uj)on his mouldering clay —
And He, bei'ore whose car the mountains bow —

The riveis roll away
In conscious awe — He <jnly can revive
Corruptions withering prey, and call the dead to live I

Yet still the sisters keep

Their sad and silent vigil at tlie grave,
V atching lor.lesus — "Comes He not to wee{> ?

lie flid not come to save ! "
Bui now oiii' straining evf

Th' advancing lorm iiath tracc(l; —
Antl soon, in wild, roistless.agony

Have Martha's arms omliraccd
Tlie Saviour's iecl — >•<> Lonl! hadst thou been nigh —
lUit .speak the word e'en now, it shall be heard on high! "

They led Him to the cave —

Til..' rocky bed. where imw in daikness slept
'Bheir brother, and His friend — then at the grave

They paused — for •• Jksus w ta-r."

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152

U love, sublime and deep !

O Hand and Heart divine!
He comes to rescue, tlioijgh He deigns to weep —
Tiie captive is not thine
O Death ! thy bands are burst asunder iiow —
There sUmds beside the grave a Mightier tar than thou,

" Come forth," He cries, "thou dead!'"

O God ! what me ms that strange and sudden f-ound,
Tliat murmurs IVom tlio tomb — that gliastiy head,

With funeral ill lets bound?

It is a LIVING KOUM —

The loved, the lost, the won,
Won from the gi-ave. corruption, and the worm —
"And is not this the S<>n
Of God?" they \vhisj)ered — wliile the sisters poured
Their gratitude in tears ; for they had known the Lord.

CHRIST BLKSSINO LITTLE CHILDREN.

"Thk Master has come ovei- Jordan,""
Said Hannah, the mothoi'. one day:

<'He is Jiealing the people wlio tlirong Him,
With a touch of His Hnger, they say.

And now I shall carry the children,
Little Rachel and Kiniiiel and John,

I shall carry the baby Esther,
For the Lord to look upon."

The father looked at her Icindly,
^ut lie shook liis hea<l and sniiled ;

"Now who but a doting mother
W^ould think of a thing so wild?

If the childien were tpitured bj* demons.
Or dying of fever— "twere well —

Or had they tiie taint of the leper,
Like manv in Israel."

" Nay, do not hinder me, Nathan,
I feel such a l)ur»len of care, —

If I carry it to the Master,
Perhaps I shall leave it there.

153

If He lay His hand on the ehildn'U,
My heart will be lighter, I know,

For a blessing for ever ai tl over
Will lollow them as tiiey go.*'

fcjo over the hills of Judah.

Along by the vine-rows gieen,
With Esther asleep on her bosom,

And liachel her brothers be i ween ;

'Mong the peoide who hung on His teaching,
Or waited His touch and His word,

Through the row of proud Pharisees listening,
She jJi'essed to the feet of the Lord.

"Now why shouldst thou hinder the Master,"
Sivid Peter, "with children like these?

"Seest not how from morning till evening
He teacheth, and healeth disease? '"

Then Christ said, " Forbid not the childien,
Permit then to come unto Me I"

And He took in His arms little Esther,
And Kachei He sat on His knee;

And the heavy heart of the mother

Was lifted all Ciu-th-care above,
As He laid His hands on the brothers,

And blest them with tenderest lovu ;

As Tfe said of the babes in His bosom,
" Of snrh are the kingdom of heaven " —

And strength for all duly and trial,
Ihat hour to her spirit was given.

CHKTST BLEStSlNCI ].ITTLE CHILDREN.

't was I lonely village, girt with iiills
.Heyond the banks of Jonlan. wliere our Lord
Tunsed from the city, to forego a wliile
The toils and tunmlts of .leiu^aleni.
Nature had <juiotly and (juainlly wrought
In that wild haunt, 'i'he gray, primeval rocks
Made solenni contrast to the temler green
That mantled timidly arouml their l)ase.
And to tijo slightly rooted shrul»s. that si)rang
From creti and crovit^e.

151

Theie. m multitude
Followed His footsteps, ea^iui' to l;iy down
The burdens ol their ino:t;d inisciy,
And He, with touch divine, had healec" theui ail.
But then, aaothei' dirtering train drew near,
Whose, tread, gazelle like, told no mournful tale
Oi paralytic loio, — and whose bright, eyes
Wiile open, in tlieir simple wonderment
Kevealed unl>iok(Mi league with health and joy.
Some had been wandering o er the pasture lieids
M'ith the youu;.- lambs, aixd in their tiny hands
Weic the blue tiaxilower and the lily-buds,
While through the open portals of their hearts,
Sweet odours led sv.ect tiioughts in tireless plays.
Others, from shady lanes and cottage doors,
The dark eyed Jewish mothers, gathering, brought
Unto the feet of Christ.

"Ye may not press
Upon the Master: He is wearied sore ;
.'ience ! Go your way.'

So the disciples sjjake, —
As with impatient gesture they repelled
The approaching groujjs.

iiiit Jesus, unto whom
T!ie smile of guileless trusting innocence
Was dear, reprovcil their arrogance, and said,
'• Sillier the little one.-, to come to Me :
C>f such as these My Fatlier's kingdom is."
With what higii rapture beat tbejuatron heart,
AVhen those fair infants in llis sheltering arms
^Vele Ibldod. ami amid liioir lustrous curls
llis hand benignant laid.

( »b, l)lissi'ul hour I
None save a mother's thiiiliiig l(jve can know
Tii.j tide of speefhle.-^s ecstuey, when those,
Whom she hath brought with i)ain into the world,
Find refuge with the unforsaking Friend.

Like holiest dews upon the opening flower,
Tlie Saviour's blo^iing fell.

So sweet its tones
Breathed on the ear, that men of i)ri<le and strife.
The venal Scril)e and boastful Pharisee,
Started to feel a l>alm ilrop in th(;ii' souls
.softening tln^ i<!ani:ini : while humble Faith
l].vulte<l. as, duoiiLch [cu'ting clouds .she saw
The children's angeK near the Father's throne.

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155

CHRIST'S ENTRY INTO JERUSALEM.

TiiK air is filled with shouts, and trumpets sounding;

A host are at thy p^ites, .Iei'us,'ileni.

Mow is their van the Mount of'(Jlives rounding;

Ohserve them. .Iu<lah"s lion-l)annoi's gloim.

Twined w^ith the pahn and olive's pe;\C('!ul stem.

Mow swell the nearer sounds of" voice and string,

A< down the iull-si<le pours the livijij: stream ;

And to the clou<lless heaven Ilosannas rinjLT- —

" The Son oi' David comes — the Conqueror, the King ! "

The cnirassed Roman heard ; and gi-asped his shieM,

Ani.' rush'd in fiery ha^te to gate and tower ;

The Pontiff" from his Kattlonicnt beheld

The host, and knew the falling of his power,

He saw the cloud on .Sion's glory lower,

Still down the marhle road the myriads come,

Sjiieading the way with girment. l)ranch and flower,

Atid deeper soun<lsare mingling " woe to Home !

The day ot freedom dawn-; rise. Israel, from thy tomh. "

Temple of beauty — long that day is done ;

Thy wall is dust; thy golden cheruhim

In the fierce triumplH of the foe aie gone ;

'J'lie shades of age< on thy altars swim :

Yet still a light is there, though wavering dim ;

And has its Ijoly light heon watolied in vain?

< »!• lives it not luitil the finishe'l time.

When He who 1i.\e<l, sh.all break Ifis peoj)|e'-: chain.

And Sion be the lov'd. the crown'd of (jod igain ?

Jfe comes, yot with the l.niiiiiiu' l>olt unanned ;

I'.ale. pure, j)roph(nii-, (xod oi ^lajesty !

Though thousands, tens of thou^amls round Him swarm'd,

M'>ne dur<t al>ide that depth divine of eye ;

Mone durst the waving ot Ills ]iil)e draw nigh.

But at His feet was laid the Koman's swor<l ;

There Lazarus kn(dt to see his King pass by :

There .laii'U>. with its age's child adoriMl.

'• He comes, uie Ki.ig of kings ; ilosanua to the Lord 1 "

156

CHRIST'S ENTRY INTO JERUSiLEM

Ride on ! ride on in maje.sty !

Hark, all the tril>e.-i llosanna cry !

Tliy humljle heast pursues his road,

With palms and scurtter'd garments strew'd.

Hide on ! ride on in maje.^ty I

In lonely pomp ride on to tlie !

Oh Christ ! Thy triunii)hs now begin

O'er captive death an<l coiKjuer'd sin.

Kide on ! ride on in majesty !
The wingeil squadrons of the sky
Look down, with sad and wondering eyes.
To see the approaching sacritice !

Kide on ! ride on in majesty I
In lowly pomp ride on to die !
Bow Thy meek head to mortal pain,
Then take, O (Jod ! Thy power and reign !

CHRIST WEEPING OVER JERUSALEM.

Salem, wlio in proud disdain,

My faithful I'ropliets slew,
And soon, the cuj) ol guilt to <lrain.

Wilt slay thy Saviour too.
How had My love thy rhiiihon hlest,

Their deeds of blood forge »t ;
And led them to etcMiial rest ?

But they consented not.

Now shall thy house be desolate,

Thy glory now shall close, —
Nor leave one trace of ruined state,

To tell where Salem rose.
Nor shalt thou thy Kedeemer see.

Nor hail thy crown restored ;
Till thou shalt say, "lIOw blest is He

Whom Thou liast sent, O Lord I "

l/>7

CHRIST COMFOUTINU HIS DISCIPI.KS.

Let not your hojirts lie trouJ)lo<l ; ye believe

In God, believe also in Me, His Son.

Doubt not but in the compass of the lioavens

My Father will provide for all Ills sjiints

Mansions of peace, seats of eternal bliss.

Where spirits made perfect aftoi- death shall dweii,

And rest from earthly toils; thither I go

To seal yoiu* sure election, and prepare

For you. My faithful servants, an abode

That, as in sorrow hoi e, so there in bliss

With Me, Your Lord, now dyin;^ for your sakes,

Ye may surmount the grave, and ever live

In heavenly communion undisturbed.

I^ament not, therefore, if I now depart.

Your provident Precursor, for ye know

Whither I go, and also know the way.

CHRIST PASSING OVER KKDRON.

Thou soft flowing Kedmn, by thy silver stream.
Our Saviour, at iiu<lnight, when ('ynthia's pale bi am
Shone bright on the waters, woulil oftentimes str.y,
And lose in thy murmurs the toils of the day.

How damp were the vapors that fell on His head 1
How hard was His pillow ! how humble His bed !
The angels, astonished, grew sa<l at the sight,
And followed their Master with solemn delight !

Oh ! Garden of Ulivet — dear honored spot !
The fame of thy wonders shall ne'er be i'orgot !
The theme most transporting to Seraphs above,
The triumpli of sorrow, the triumph of love.

Come Saints and adore Him, come bow at His feci ;
Oh I give Him the glory, the praise that is meet I
Let joyful hosannas unceaaing arise,
And joiQ the full chorus tluit gladdens the skie«.

15d

THE (JAIiDEN OF UETHSExMANK.

Nkjmt. iirnl the world do rest I tlie yolden iiioon,
lii'iglit ill her ghiry, triuks her hiiained way :
Aiul tltousiiud stars at midnight's solemn noon,
Blend sol'ten'd radiince with her shadowy ray :
Hill, glade, and ilell, ami fountain's flashing -pr.'iy,
And silvery streanilel glow in chasten'd lighv,
The night bird hath awoke her j>ensive lay
'Vlid olive groves that sc<ile the luountain's heiglii.
And earth doth calmly smile as wra^jt in vision laight.

The world doth rest ! Not all — the weary heait
perchance m;iy sigh o'er jdeasiire vanished ;
Dim eyes may weep "neath sorrow's ceaseless smart,
Fond bosoms wail the parted and the dead :
For earth hath many a tale of glory fled ;
Her brightest homes have records of deep woe ;
On sweetest blossoms withering blight is shed.
Nf»r lives for aye youth's fair and fpring-time glow.
Joy hath on earth no shrine where sorrow may not How.

But hither come ! Gethsemane may speak
Of more than mortal, more than earthly woe 1
Ye, ye may tell of hearts that care doth break,
Of fragile forms that hopeless sink below :
Come hither ! God — tht> God Incarnate know 1
A world's deep burden is He iloomed to bear I
All guilt, all sorrow, all of man's dark woe,
He, He hath taken to His soul, and there.
Behold Him prostrate laid !— list, list His groaning praye;

** My Father near ! if this deep, bitter cup.
This cup of agony untold, — intense.
This cup unmingled with one fcoothing drop
Of mercy from Thy footstool, — if it hence
May pass away, My Father ! then dispense,
Nor bid Me feel Thy vengeance ! yet if love
Can this permit not, then mine innocence
The weight, the curse of man's oft'ences prove .'
Thy will be ever done by all who live and move !"

He ceased, — no voice was heard, — no answer woke

Amid the olive foliage whispering peace :

No tone from heaven athwart the stillness broke,

To win the soriowing heart from weariness :

The sad disciples in His last distress

Have yielded to soft slumber, and ak>ue

He wrestl^^s with the Eternal, till (he pre«^
or torturing thought o'erwhelms Him ; yet [li* mo\n
Of agony intense hath reach'd the Fatlier's throne.

Again He kneels : "My Father ! if Thy love
Can other means <:?evise, — if this Had cup
May yet pa<s from Me,— Tiiou, Thy wrath remove.
Then, then. My Father ! — yet if human iiope
Dotli rest on sacrifice onco ofl'orM up,
Ami through Tiiy Son al(»ne the lost may claim
Tiieir full, thoir free redemption : then llif cup
T take of agony, and woe, and slianio.
Thv will, not Mine, be done I adored Thy gloriom* nune 1*'

Yet agony hath whelm'd Kim ; from His I. row
The crimson hlood is starting ! low He lies,
But from His lip escapes its burden now —
" Thy will, not Mine, ho done ! My sjicriiice
Be e'er by Thee accepted I"

Lo I the skies
Their radiant portals open, aivd a tone —
A tone angelic, l>ids the Mourner rise !
And might is given to brave the storm alone !
Salvation's work is wrought ! He bled for man to litone !"

"I DO NOT KNOW THE MAN."

Dost thou not know Me ? hast thou then forgot
The poor lone man by yonder distant sea ?
I call'd and thou didst choose my mournful lot, —
Yes, thou didst leave thy all to follow Me.

Dost thou not know Me ? — Yet this smitten face
Should not be strange to those dim, dazzled eyes,
Which late beheld on Tabor's secret place
The .sun, now setting, in such glory rise.

Dost thou not know Me ? Ah, what form had He,
Who, when thy life was sinking in the abyss,
So quickly atretch'd HU hand to rescue thee !
Look ! Mine is bound, — but was that hand like this ?

And can the sheep its bleeding Shepherd smite t
Say, of whose broken body did^t thou eat ?
Dost thou not know Me yet ? Who but this night
Knelt down, O my beloved, to wash thy feet ?

160

In (liuk f ieth<emaiie the weight of woo
Trei^sd (lrop>^ of hloo.l from this thorn-torture*! brow:
But Jih ! tlioy leiul Me to the Cross ! — I go ; —
Thou viToepest :— teil Me, tlo«t thou know Mo note f

THH PASSION OF CHPI&T.

Yes 1 Thou <li<Nt <iie for me, O Son of God ;

By Th<'(» th«i throhliing Hesh of man was worn ;
Thy ii.iktMl feet the thorns of sorrow trotl,

And teini)<!>ts heat Thy houseless Ijaad forlorn r —
Thou, that wert w<»nt to stand
Alono, on 'Jml'? right hand,
Before the ages were, tlie Eternal. RMest Boriv

Thy hirtliriglit in llie worM was pain and grief;

Thy loves return, ingratitude and hate :
The limits Thou healedst brought Thee no relief;
The eyes Thou opene«lHt Cidmly viewed Thy fate :
Thou, that wert uont to dwell
In peace : tongue cannot tell.
Nor heart conceive the bliss of Thy «'elestial stiite.

They tlragged Th -e to the Romin's solemn hall,

Where the pi-oud judge in purple splendour sate;
Thou stoodst a meek and patient criminal.
Thy doom and death from human lips to wait :—
Whose throne shall be the world
In tin.d ruin hurl'd
With all mankind to hoar their everlasting fate.

Thou wert alone in th it Herce multitu<lo,

When "(.'rucify Him." yelle<l the general shout:

No hand to guanl Thee mid those insult.-^ rude,
Nor lip to bloss in all that frantic rout: —
Whose lightest whispered word

The adamantine arms from all the hf^iivens bioke otit.

They bound Thy temples with the twiste I thorn;

Thy bruised feet went languid on with pain;
The blowl < om all I hy flesh with scourges torn,
Deepei: d Thy robe of mockery's crimson gr;im:
Who>!0 native vesture bright
Was the i!n:vpproach^l light.
The sandal of whose foot the mpiti hurricano.

;

)61

They smote Thy <'li«jek with many a ruthless pulm,

With the colli spear Thy shiuMering side they pierc'd ;
The tiraughtof hitteiost gull was all the balm
They gave t' enhance 'i'hy unslak'd burning thirst :~
Thou, at whose woi-ds of peace
Did pain and anguish ocase,
And the long-buried dead their bonds of ulumber burst.

liOw bow'd Thy head convuls'd and droop'd in death,

Thy voice sent forth a sad and wailing cry,
iSlow struggled from Thy breast the parting breath,
And every limb was wrung with agony:
That head, whose veilless blaze
Filled angels with amaze,
When at that voice sprang forth the rolling suns on high.

And Thou wert laid within the narrow tomb.

Thy clay-cold limbs with shroudmg grave clothes bound.
The 8eale<l stone confirmed Thy mortal doom ;
Lone watchmen walk'd Thy desert burial-ground : —
Whom hoav'n could not contain,
Nor the immeasurable plain
Of vast infinity enclose or cacle round.

For us, for us, Thou didst endure the pain,

And Thy meek spirit bowed itself to shame,
To wash our souls from sin's infecting stain,

T' avert Thy Father's wrathful vengeance-flame :
Thou who couldst not'ing 'vin.
By saving worlds fron sin.
Nor aught of glory add to Thy all-glorious name.

ECC^ HOMO.

On ! sacred hea«l now wounded,

With grief an<l scorn woighod down;
Oh! .s;u;r«Ml brow surrounded

With thornH, Tliy only crown 1
Onc« on a throne of glory,

Aii'/rned with light divine,
Now, all flespi.-<'<l itiid gory ;

1 joy to<aiil The«; mine.

Oh! noblest brow, nnd dearest,

In other days the world
All toared when Thou appeared'st:

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162

What sliiune on Thee is hu:le<l :
How art Thou pale with anguish,

With sore abu.se and scorn?
How does that visage languisli?

Which once was bright as morn.

< >n me, as Thou art dying,

Oh, turn Tliy pitying eye;
To Thee lor nieroy crying,

Belore the Cross I lie.
J bine, Thine the bitter p.ission,

Thy pain i.s all for ine ;
Mine, mine the deep transgression,

My sins are all on Thee.

What liingUMgo ran I borrow,

To thank 'l"l:oo — <learost I'riend;
For all Thy <^lying sorrow,

of all iny woci.s, the end?
Then can 1 leave 'Ihce ever?

Oh, do not Thou leave me !
Lord ! lot me never, never,

( 'utlivc my love to Thee.

II' I. a wretch, should leave Thee,

Oh! Jesus, leave not me;
In faith may I receive Thee,

When <lc.ith .shall set nie free.
When sti-ength and comfort languish,

And I must hence dcitart, —
Keleasi) me then from anguish,

By Thy own wounile<l lieart.

But near me, when I'm dying,

Oh I show Tliy Cross to me ;
Ami for my succoi- flying.

(ome Loi'd, and .set me free.
This heart, new faith rccttiving,

From .lesus siiall not rove ;
For he who die«i bidicving.

Dies safely ihrougli Thy love.

.irDAJSUEPEXTANCli).

• I

Tni: ".norning of tho world's great tragedy —
Ahcaily shouting crowds ciicd "Cruelly,"

Around tlic lligli I'riesi ^ door,
When pressing thro' tb' outpouring stieam — a man

163

Ilia eyes with horror till d, his features wan.
Stood hreiithloss on tlie tloor.

"Condemn'd and guiltless ! I " gaspingly he said,
'• 'Tis I have sinn'd, 'tis 1 wlio have betray'd

The Rifrhtoous and tlie (Jood.
Take back your biibo with bloody stain,
It burns my hand, it sears my brain,

I'rice of my Master's Blood I "

Cohl as a Inil-stoim on the hissing Hame,
"See thou to that,'" the oliilling answer came,

" What matters it to us? "
''Too liit<* ! too late!" with fronzi'd voice he cries,
''>io justice licro, no rescue from tlio skies,

'* Wretch ! to betray Him tluis ! "

Down from liis h:vnd tlie cursod coin he cast,
With frantic Hyiiiir feet tlin streets he past,

For buiniii;^' lliro' his brain /

From liunihcil. Jiundrcd voices rose the cry,
"Away ami crucily Him, crucii'y

Agahi and yet again.'"

poor conscience madden'd wretch ! turn even vet.
And throw tiiyself before thy Saviour's feet,

Hi> cross take up and bear,
Till tliou sliidt come to (Jolgotha, nor leave
Its blood-staiufd loot till thou a glance receive,

To save thee from despair.

But no! urg'd onward by the fiends of Hell,

Like tliose lierce creatures who in tombs did dwell

And shunnM tbo si;j;ht of man,
He p:>ss'd (ielietina's drear cuised vale
Where miduijzlit -t-es lierce Moloch's victims pale

<tleam in the nioonli^dit wan.

He sta\ -lot till upon the mount-iin side
So bleaklv gran<l, so desolately wide

lie lor a little stood.
There natiu«' ^.eein'd (MiiL'euial with despair,
Mo distant xo'wv upon I lie hiri<l air.

It was the Field of lUood !

When lo I swift blottiuL' out the mid-day sun
Wild ch.ios "Hem'd to iiave again begun

To desolate the world.
A horror of (h>ep darkness fell around.
Earth trp!nbl«»d t.>' her deepest ileptlis profound,
from then grave were hurl'd.

I'H

i()4

The mountains shuddeiMsuvl the liills dkl (juako,
The thumleFs rolling ten-fold echoes wake;

Where shall the traitor Hee?
Hark! thro' the gloom his mad despairing call
"Fall on me rooks, ye tottering mountains fall,

"And end my misery.''

" Ye howling fiends whose curses fill the air
*'Not Hell itself can equal my despair,

"Life — life itself is Hell,
^' Yawn I yawn I ye horrid gulfs ! Hell open wide
"Within your burning depths my crime I hide."
With one wild spring into the darken'd space
Headlong, rebounding down the rock's steep face

A mangled corpse he fell.

THE CRUCIFIXION.

CiTT of Grod ! Jerusalem,
Why rushes out thy living stream ?
The rurbaneiU priest, the hoary seer,
The iloman in his pride are there !
And thousands, tens of thousands, still
Clueiei' round Calvary's wild hill.

Stiil onward rolls the living tide,

Titere rush the bridegroom and the bri«le;

ri-3Qce, beggar, soldier, Pharisee,

Tlie old, the young, the bond, the free;

'riuj nation's furious multitude.

All maddening with the cry of blood.

'Tis glorious mom ; — from height to height
Shoot the keen arrows of the light ;
And glorious in thfir central shower,
I'alaoe of lioliness and power.
The temple on Moriah's brow
Looks a now risen sun below.

But woe to hill, and woe to vale!
Against thoni shall conic forth a wail : >
And woe to bridegroom an<l to bri<io ;
For death shall on the whirlwind ride :
And woe ko thee, resplemlent shrine,
The sword is out for thee and thine.

165

Hide, hide thee in the heavens, thou eiin,
Before the deed of blood is done !
Upon that temple's haughty steep
Jerusalem's last ungels weep ;
They see destruction's funeral pall
Blackening o crSion's sacred wall.

Like tempest, gathering on tlie shore,
They hear the coming arnue.i' roar :
They see in Sion's hall of state
The sign that maketh desohite —
The idol — sttmdard — pagan spear,
Th»' tomb, the flame, the massacre.

They see the vengeance fall ; the cham,

The long, long age of guilt and pain :

The exile's thousand desperate \cars.

The more than groans, the U).ore than tears ;

Jerusalem, a vanish'd namo,

its tribes earth's warning, scot)', and shame.

Still pours along the multitude,

.Still rends the heavens the shout of blood,

But on the murderer's furious van,

Who totters on ? a weary Man ;

A cross upon 11 is shoulders bound —

His brow, His frame, one gushing wound.

And now He treads on Calvary,
What slave ujxni that hill nuist die ?
What hand, what heart, in guilt imbrued.
Must be the mountain-vulture's ft>od '/
There stiuid tw(» victims gaunt an<l bare,
Two culprit emblems of desjiair.

Vet who the Third? Tiic yell of shame

I- frenzied at the suH'erer's name ;

Hands clenched, teeth gnashing, vestures torn.

The curse, tlie tainit, the laugh of scorn.

All that the dying hour can sting,

Are ixumd Thee now, Thou thorn-crown'd King I

Yet cui-sed and tortured, taunted, spurned,
No wrath is for the wr.itl! returned.
No vengeance Hashes from the eye :
'J'he sufferer calmly waits to die :
The sceptre reed, the thorny orown,
Wake on that pallid brow no frown.

At last the word of death is given.

The form is bound, the nails are driven }

Now triumph, Scribe and I'harisee 1

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i66

Now, Koniaa, bend tlH> mocking knee !
Tlie cross is reared. The deed is done,
'riiorc stands Messiah's earthly throne !

This was the earth's consuniniato hour ;
For this ha<l blazed tho prnphot's power ;
For this liad swept the (Muniueror's swoi-d,
Had ravaged, raiso<l, cast down, restored;
J'eisepolis. Koine, Babylon,
For this ye sank, for this ye shone.

Yet things to which enrtli's brightest beam
Were darkness — oartli irxdt'a dream ;
Foifdieads on which sliall crowns bt> laid,
.Snl)lime, when sun and stars shall fade,
Worlds upon woiid-^ — t'tc)M;d tilings —
Jiung on TJiy angui-^li. King ofkings !

Still from His lij> no curse has come.
His lofty eye had looked no «lru)m ;
No earthquake biu-st. no angd brand
< 'rushes the black, blaspheming lian<l,
What say thoso lips I)y aiigiii>li riven ?
'• God, be My murderers loigiven I ■

lie dies, in whoso bigli vi«'t<jry,
The slayer, deatli liim-elf. >liall die!
lie (lies! by wlio-c all coniiueiing ti<';i<l
Shall yet be crushed (he .-erpcnt's head;
FioMi his pumd thiout* lo <larkMc>> hurled,
The god and tempter of tlii- woild.

He dies, creation'^ awful Lord.

•lehovah, Christ, Fterual Word:

To come in thnnili-r I'lnm the >kies ;

To l»id the liurii'<l world ari>e ;

The earth His I'ootstool. heaven Mis tlirouoj

l{odcemerI mav Tiiv will b«f done.

THE C'KUC'IKIXIOX.

BoUNU upon th' accur-ed tree,
Faint and IHeeding. who is lie?
By the eyes so ]»aln an<l diui.
Streaming Idood.aiid wrilhiug limb,
By theHesh with scomge-. loiu.

167

By the crown of twisted thorn,
By the side so deeply pierced,
By the baffled burning thirst,
Bv the drooping death-dew'd brow,
Son of Man, 'tis Thou, 'tis Thou !

Bound upon th' accursed tree,
Pread and avvtul. who is He?
By the sun at noon-day pale,
.Shivering rocks and rending veil.
By earth that treinl>le.sat Mis doom,
Bv yonder saints wiio biu'st their tomb,
By Eden, promised ere He died
To the felon at His side,
Lord! our suppliant knees we bow,
Son of (lod, tis Thou, 'tis Thou !

Bound upon th' accursed tree,
Sad an<l «lying, who is He'/
By the last and bitter ciy.
The ghost given up m agony ;
By the lifeless body laid
In the chamber of the dead :
By the mourners come to weop
Wliero tl»o boncis of'.losus slfMip ;
<'ruciliod! we know Thee now;
Son of Man, 'tis Tlifui, 'tis Thou !

JViimd upon th" iiccurscd tree,

j)rcad and awliil. who is He'.'

I'.y tlie pi-ayor lor tlioni tliat slow.

»• Lord, tlicy know not whjil th'-ydo!''

By the spoil'il and onipty grave.

By the s(nils Ib^ <h<'d to save.

By the ('(iiiiiiK'-t lie h;illi won.

By thtr saints boloro His tlinMic.

By the i'ainl)ow loinid His Ihow,

Sou oftiod, 'tis Thou, 'tisTiirm!

Till-: cuoss.

No graven imago of divinost mouM.

No sparkling <liamond Iai<l in pnrost gold,

No crown on any eaitlily inojiari-h's binw.

To be coiiiparoci with. Cioss of rjnist. art thou.

Nimbi of light surromid tliee, sacred tiling.

168

Mysterious signal of high he<iven's King:

Thou brightenest as I gaze, grow, brighten on.

Until He come again, the Judge upon Iii> thione.

Perhaps in farthest zones that boast an orb

To shine the glory of the Creaiive Woi-d,

The business of mighty .Serai)him may be

To search the mystery that lies in thee.

Salvation to the penitent, — what sign

Could still the avenger's awful wmth but thine,

When Cain, the wandering, in the early earth

Was driven an exile from his place of birth ?

The King's broad mark, the touch of hands j :ofane

From consecrated things could once restrain.

When Judah's sacred city, gone astmy

From God and swerved to e;ich forbidden way.

Was doomed to slaughter, then, as the vision shews,

The murderous weapon glanced aside from those

Upon whose i'oreheads, by some holy hand,

The wonder-working signal had been penned.

Honoured of God and high in human prai.se,

Through all memorials of the ancient days,

Creation's hei-oes gloried that they bore thet\

The heavenliest beauties on their white breasts woio thee

On gilied bannei's in the dread field of war.

On holy temple tops that gleamed afar,

On rugged clitfand hoary mountain's head.

On antique tombs raised o'er the mighty dead,

Hast thou been lifted up to shew the road

A soul may travel to the blest reiilms of (io<l.

THE HIGHWAY TO MOUNT CALVARY.

Itopair to Pilate's hall, whicli place when tliou hast found,
There shalt thou see a i)illar sUmd to which thy Lord was
bound.

'Tis easy to be known by any r'hristian eye;
The bloody whips do point it out from all that stimd thereby.

A little from that place, upon the left-hand side.

There is a curious portlie door, right beautiful and wide.
JiOave that in any wise, forl)id tliy foot go thither;

For out thereat did iludas go, despair and he together.

But to the right-hand turn, where is a narrow gate,
Forth which St. Peter went to weep his poor distrest estate.

Do imitate the like, go out at sorrow s door,
Weep bitterly as he did weep, tluit wept to sin no more.

169

By this direction, then, the way in inuloistood —
No porch, no door, nor hall to pass, unt<[>iinkled with ChrisfB
blood.

^k) shall no error put misguiding steps between,

For every drop sweet Jesus shed is freshly to he seen.

A crown of piercing thorns there lies imbrued in gore !

The garland that thy Saviour's head for thy offences wore :
Which when thou shalt behold, think what His love hath been.

Whose head was laden with those briars t' luiloaitl thee of
thy sin.

Follow His feet that goes for to i-edeorn tliy loss.

And carries all our sins with Mini to (liiiK-el on His cross.
Look on with liquid eyes, and sji^b from sonowing mind,

To see the deaths-man go before, tliu murdering troupe»-
behind.

'ITien press amongst the throng, thysolf with sorrows wed ;

Get very near to Christ and so<! what tears the women shed :
Tears that did turn Him back, they were of such a force —

Tears that did purchase daughter's names, of Father's kin<l
remorse.

Tliink on their force by tears — tears that obtained love;

Where words too weak could not persuade, how tears had
power to move.
Then look towards Jesus' loa<l, more than He could endure.

And liow for help to bear the same a hireling they procure^

Join thou unto the cross, liear it of love's desire :
Do not as Cyremeus did, who took it up for hire.

The voluntary death that Christ ditl die for thee,
(lives life to none but such as joy cross- bearing friends to be

Up to Mount Calvary if thou tiesiic to go.
Then take thy cross and folU>w Cluist, tliou

canst not mish

It so.

When thou art there arrived His glorious woiuuls to see.
Say but as faithful as the thief, " O Lord, remember n»c."

Assure thyself to have a gift all gifts excelling.

Unce sold by sin, once bought by Clu-ist, for aaints eternal
dwelling.
By Adam. Paradise was sin's polluted slmde :

By Clu'ist, the awful Golgotha a Paiadi^-c wan matle.

■t

170

li. I

JIYMN FKOM THE BREVIARY.

ToClii'ist, tln' I'riiico of Poure,

An«l Sim <>r<iu<| Most lligli;
Tho KiitluT of tlift world to come, —

Sing we witli holy. joy.

Deep in Hi- liciiit loi' us,

Tlie \v(»iiiiil ut |i)v<' II»> lioro;
That lovo wliirli still \\v kin<lle- in

The lu'iiils tliat Iliii juIoio.

Oh! fount oft'ii.l!..-.- lilo!

Oh! spring of loinitnins cloiir !
Oh! Hani*' t-olo-tial, rU'.iiising all,

Who unto Tlu'o draw noar.

Qido me in Thy dear In-art,

For thither do | fly:
Tht'if ~tfk riiv _'i:ii<i through life, in deatli,-

Thinc inuMorialiiv.

1:1-.

':H

j"vr,v

THE RESlimiECTION.

Ill-; is rist-n. He i-> risen I
Toll it with a Joyiul voico.

1I«' has hurst his thrt-e ilays" piison,
hot tho wholo wido c.irth rejoice:

i>rath '> <'<iii.|iii'r"d. man is IVi't.',

(.'hrisl has won tin- victory.

('o)Uf. VI' ^ad and fearful hearted.

Willi L'lad smile and radiant hrow :
Lent's long shadow^ have d(>iiartod,

All Mis ivocs art- ovei- now;
And the passion ihat Me hore,
Sin and pain, can \ (\v no moie.

Come, with high and holy hymnin;j,
rhanl our Lord's iriumphmt lay;

^iot one darksome (^loiid i- <iinnning
Yonder gloiious morning ray,

Bie.iking o'er the purple Kast;

Brighter far our Kasier loast.

171

ife is men. lie i.-* Hmmi !

lie iuM op'd iho t'tfiiuil (.'Mt.*;
We iue fVeo from sin's dark pii^on.

Risen to a holier state :
And a l>riglitur Kast<-r l>«'ani
Un our longing eyes shall stream.

EASTLill.

TIIIO T\\n MAUVS.

Oh ilark day of sorrow, aniaxenient and pain;

When the promise wus i -lighted, the given wa.s ta'en I

When the Master no longer a refugo should prove;
And evil wa.s stronger tlian mercy and love!

(>h dark <lay of soirow. ahasemont and dread.
When the Ma.ster l.eloved was one with the <ieaiil

We sato in our anguish afar oif to see,

For we surely l)elieved not tliis >orrow could lio I

But the trust of our -pirlts w.is all overthiowu :
And we wept, in our angui>h. astonished, aluuo !

At evo they laid Him with aloes auil myrrh.
In fine linen wuuud, in a inw s<>pul(hrt,'.

TluTe, there will wo si-ek llim : will wash liiin witli caio;
Anoint Him with spices; aud mourn lor llim th«ie.

Oh strangest ol sorrow! oh vision of fear!
New grief is around us — the L'»rd i- not hoio !

TIIK ANUKL.

WoMKV, why .shrink ye with won<ler and diead .' —
Seek lot the living where sluml>ers the dead !

Woep not. nor tremhlo; and he not di>mayed;
The Lord iialh arisen! see where He was laid!

The grave-clothes, hehold thenj ; the spiceti; the hicr;
The na><kin thai bound Him; hut He is not horu !

172

Death oould not hold llim, the grave is a prinon
Thfit keeps not the living ; the Chiidt has ariuon t

TUU LORD JBSUS.

Why are ye troubled ? why weop ye and grieve ?
What the prophets liave written why slowly believe?

'TiH I, be not doubtful I why ponder ye so?
Behold in My body the uiaiks of My woe !

The willing huth sulfered ; thu chosen been nlain ;
The end is accomplished ! behold Me again !

Death ha.s been concjuered — the gmve has been riveu-
For sin a remission luth freely been given !

Fearless in spirit, yet meek as the dove,
Go preach to the nations thi'« gospel of love.

For the might of the mighty shall o'er you be cast ;
And 1 will be with you, my friends, to the last.

I go to the Father, but I will jirepare

You mansions of glory, and welcome you there.

There life never ending ; there bliss that endures :
There love never changing. My friends, shall be yours I

But the hour is accomplished, My children, we sevei* —
But be ye not troubled, 1 am with you for everl

JOURNEY TO KMMAU?

It happened on a .solemn eventide
Soon after lie that was our Surety died,
Two bosom friemlrt, each pensively inclined,
The scene of all those sorrows left behind,
Sought their own village, busied as they wont
In musings worthy of the great event:
They spake of llira they loved, of Ilim whose life.
Though blameless, had incurred perpetual sti-ifu;
Whofee deeds had left, in spite of hostile arts,
A deep memorial graven on their hearts.
The reooUection, like a vein of ore

173

The further traoe<l. enrichoil tliein aill thoiuoro;
They thougiit Him, and they justly thought Him, one
Nent to do more tlian Hf iinpruroil t' have done :
To exalt a jK'ojile and to jdaco them high
Above all el>e, and won<loi«>il Fie shouhl die.
Ero yet ihoy brought their journey loan entl,
A stranger joined them, oouiteousas n friend,
And asked them, with a kind tMigaging air,
What their attliction was, and Ix-g^od a share.
Informed. Ho gathered up the limkon thread,
And, truth and wis<loin gi-ucing all He saiii,
£xplaino<l, illu-strated, and searchoil 80 well
The tender theme on whidi thoy chose to dwell.
That reaching homo, "The night," they said, '' is near,
We must not now he parted — sojourn here."
The new acquaintance soon hocjime a guest,
And made so welcome at their simple feast.
He blesscti the brea«l, but vanishe<l at the word,
And left them both exclaiming, " 'Twas the liOrd I
Did not our hearts feel all Ho deigned to say ?
Did they not burn within us by the way?"

THE ASCENlSION.

Brioiit portals ot the sky,
Embossed with sparkling stars;
Doors of eteiiiily,
With adaniantiiM^ l»ars:
Your arras rich uphold.
Loose all your bolts and springs;
Ope wide yoin- loaves of gold,
That in yoin- r<»ofs nuiy cotno the King of kings I

iScarfed in a rosy «'|uu<l.
lie d<»th ascend the air:
Straight dotji tlienioon Him shroud
With her rosplen<lent Imir.
The next en<'rystallod ligh«;
Submits to Him its beams:
And Ho doth trace the height
Of tliat tiiir lam]> which Hames of beauty stroanH.

He towers those golden bounds, '

He <lid t«> sun b<;i|ueath ;
The higher wandtM-ing rounds
Are found His feet l>en<tath.
The milky way comes neiir,

174

l^'

If; '

■" -

lleaven'H axlo woenis to hpiirl
That. rr*he«l in glory, Heavens King may asorul.

< >h ! woll-sprinp of this all !
Thy Father s iniaj;o rii'C;
Word — that from nought did call,
What is— doth reason — live!
Tho Houl's f't«>rnul I'ood,
K.irtii's J.>\ — d«>li>.'ht of Heaven ;
All trutn. I<»v«'. h«';uity. ftnoil,
To Th<(«. to Thee, bo pmisos ever given

Now eacli ctherial gate
To Him iiatii o|m'«mm| Ikmmi ;
And gloiys Kin;.' in .•«tato
Hi- piiiiifft entcis in.
Sow come is this High Priest,
In tiiis nj<>>t holy j>l:u'e ;
Xot without hlood .uhlressed,
Witii glory heaven, the earth to erown with gi-aoe.

Oil ! <ih)ry of tlie heaven !
(Hi! Sole'l).-light of earth !
To 'i'hee all power lie given ;
(lod's uncreated hirth.
• M nianivind lov<'r true,
Kiidurer ot hi-; wrong ;
Who dost the world renew,
Still he Thou our salvation an<l our song.

TIIK ASCENSION.

;

[Iff-

'If.

1 Hal'

t»UH Lnuu is risen Inun the dead.

Our JesiLs is g<ine u)* on high :
Tlu' powers o| hell are i'aptiv(> led,

l)ragg'd to the portals of th«- sky.
Thei'e Ills triumphant eh.iriot wails,

.And augeh chant the soh>mii lay ;
iatl up yoiM- heads, ye heavenly gates,

Ye everlasting doors givc» way.

Loose all your l»ars of massy light,
An<l wide unl'olil the etherial scenft ;

He elaims tl '. mansions as His right,

Iteeeive the King of (J lory in.

Who is the Kin;; of (» lory ? who ?

Tho Lord who all our ioo\ o'ftroaniP ;
Tho worM, Hin, <le:itli, iiii«l lid o'i'itlirt'W,

AihI Josus is tin' roiKjueror's n.iino.

JiO ! Ills triiunphiint clru-iot wnits,

And im^fls (li.int tli»* '^nhMiuj lay :
Jjil't up your lit- ids ye licivrnly gitos,

Yo ovciiastiii;; dooi's ^'ivf way I
Who is tlu' Kilt;.' «>r dory? who?

TIh' Lord of ;.'lorious jiowcr po.ssoxs'd ;
The Kill;.' o<' saints and an;,'i'ls too,

Goil over all, lonn-er hlossod.

AVIIITSITNTIDK, OU rKNTJ<:(iOST

WnKN (lod of old «\uno down (rom luvivon,
In iiowcr and wrath llo canio ;

Lolom His itM't ilic clouds wi'it> rivon.
Halt' darkut.vHd and halt Ituino :

iiut whon lie canio tho Kocond tinio,

Ho iMinc in iiowcr and lovo ;
Soltor than fsAv al irtoinin;,' piiino

Jlovor'd His holy liovo.

The liros, that nish'd on Sinai down

In Huddrii tononls di'i.>ad,
Now ;i('iitly li;ilit, a glorious crown,

On i'Vci y s.uiitc 1 he, id.

And as on I^raids awe «liU' U car

'I'lio voico oxoocdin;.' loiul.
The trui:i|p, llrd Aiiu'cU nu d^c to hear,

'riiiill'd lioiii the dccji, dark doud ;

So. wjirii llic S|>iril ot our <lod

( 'miuc down jii> Hock 1<) liiid,
A Voice I'roni Ii'mvcm was hoird ahro\d,

A ru-liiu!.' ini;.'ht\ wind.

It IIIU (hci'huich ol (i(H| : it fills

The ^iiiliil world aioiui I .
Only in htuiit'or)) hiiirt> .uid wills

No place I'or it i-. found.

170

Comn r.oi<l, poiuo Wisdom, Lovo, and Power,

<)p<!M our oai's to Iio;ir ;
Lot us not miss the accoptod liour ;

kSiivo, Lord, l)y lovo or foar.

ST. STKIMIEN THE PROTO-MARTYll.

As rays around tlio sotirre of light,
Stioum upward ri<» '»(> ^low in siglit,
And wati'liing Ity his t'uturo tligiit,

Sot tho clour hoiivon on tiro ;
So on tho Kin>.' of Martyrs wait
Threo eho«ion hands in royal stftto,
AJid all oarth owns — of good and groat —

Ih gathered in that choir.

<h»o prossos on, and woh^omes doath,
One aihnly yiohls his willing hroath,—
Nor Blow, nor hurrying, hut m faith,

Content to dio or livo ;
And Homo, tho darlings of thoir Lord,
riay Hmiling with tho tlamo and sword,
And, oro tlu\v spoak to Ilissuro word,

Unconscious witness give.

Foremost and 'v. ,ist to Ifis throno,
lly poilcit roi.,- )ftriiunpli known,—
An<l likcst lliiu in look and tone,

Tho holy Stephen kneel> :
With steulfast ga/o as wiien tho sky
riew open to His ,''aiiitin;i eye.
Which, iik(; a fading lamp, llashod high,— >

Seeing wiiat deUh cctui^eals.

Well might you gunss what vision hriglit
Was prcs(Mit to liis raptured sight,
Kven as rellcU^j stream^ oi light,

Their solar si>urc(> helray ;
Tho glory which our 'fod surrounds,
Tho Son of Man -th* a tuning wouniU—
llu sees them all : and earlh'd dull hounds

Aro mulling fast uway,

IIo HooH thoni all — no other view
Could sl.Tirjp the Saviour's likeness true,
Or with Ills lovo so doop ombruo

177

Man's sullen hoart and gross—
" Jesus, do Thou my soul roceive ;
Jesus, do Thou my 1o<»m forgive ; "
He who would learn that prayer, must livo

Under the holy Cross.

IFo, though He seems on earth to move,
Must glide in air like gentle dove,
From yon uncloudoil depths above

Must draw His purer breath ;
Till men behold His angel faeo
All radiant with celestial grace.
Martyr all o'er, an<l meet to trace

The lines of Jesus' death.

ST. STEPHEN THE PHOTO-MARTYR.

A oouxoiLnooM in old Jerusalem

Is filled with eager faces. Men who feel

The blood of Abrahnm in their veins "-e there,

Some born 'noath Sion, others from nf. ;•,

(In Africa, in Asia, and in Komo,

Ijong held in bondage) sull'ered to return,

To worship in the city of th<«ir God,

To pray for their deliverance that should come

By llim whom all the prophets prophesied.

He came — unto His own ; they knew Him not,

And the glad tidings that Ho brought they scorned.

He loft them with a self impo.sed curse

On them and on their children. EJven now,

That curse is growing to accomplishment

In that doomed city ; soon, no stone shill rest

Upon another, in its holiest pliice.

The meek, the lowly, loving Man of Griefs

'Wept over it with keenest .symimthy.

Such as no human heart o'er felt before.

His words of peace they hoard not, nay, they mocked,

Reviled anti buffeted and spat upon.

Condemned and crucified the King of kings.

So came, bo died the Saviour of the world.
Only a few of all the favoured seed
Of Abram, win behold the Son oflJod,
Believed on li n and worshipped ; and to those,
His seed, the ir.ivail of His mouI, Me g.ivo
The promise of His presence to '• the end, "
'* I will not leave you orjdians, I will send
Another Comforter."
1-'

17«

t ^

Witli sorrowing eyes.
The true desciples saw the gates oldeutli
('lose on tlieir Lord and Mswter. Bnt Hit ro-e
Triumphant from the grave, and tho.v l><'h<»M
Mi.s well-loved form once more and hennl linn sjieak
In words thut made thtur hearts witiiin tin'iii laiin,
<' Go forth beginning at .lerusalom,
And preach remiss*ion of their sins to men."
lie Idessed them, and the opening cIoiuU roi-cived
His hody from their sight.

Thrif u'lrc (thtitf —
Not long ; the promise givi-n was I'ullilU'd ;
The Spirit rnmo : the Heavenly ComCoiter,
i'l'Of'eeding from the Father an<l the Sun.
Who taught them all things, filli'il their souls \.ith j'ly,
And gave them stroiigtli and ecturage to declare
That Christ had suil'< rod for a guilty world.

And many souls weie added to tiie ('iiurdi

(If HUrh as should l)e saved. Tiiesc kept the Faitii,

Through toils and persecution, scorn ami shame.

.lerusalcm, that crucified her King,

Jerusalem that shod the prophet's lilood,

Still thirsted, and insatiate .i.«kc(l i'or more —

Now, in that council room with craving ey'S

They look upon their prey. His face is bright,

As is an angel's, whom the smile of (lod

Has lightened with the glory ol His love.

But ah ! those eyes ha<l seen the Son of (iod,

In all His awful agony undinim(><l.

His death and lesurreclion Stephen preached.

Full of the Holy Sj»iiit, laith and ix^wer,

And many mimclcs and woiideis wrought,

Convincing sinners of the Truth ho spake.

Till even prie:jts themselves obeyed the Faith.

r^:.i

1 \

Then wicked men arose, and with hard woids,
I)isj)Uted Stephen's. Vainly they withstood,
('elestial wisdom hovered round his lips.
Then, full of rage and falscliood they suboi-neil
Men, like themselves, unpriiici)>led, who said
That Stephen ha'l lilasphcme 1 the holy ])lace,
The law, and Ahises who had given it.
And the high-]>riest demanded a rej)ly —
Arc these things so ? But Stephen, undismayed
l?y all that proud triljunal's scorn aiul hate,
Spake boldly a,s the Spirit moved his lips,
Hcginniiig with the father of their race,
His call, his promise of posterity.
His prompt olieiience, his unsjiaken faith,
lie lold them all their sinful history,

179

Their clisobe<lience, tlieir inprntitude,
Their base itlohiti;-. How tlii<ni>rh all their m\.
(lod still was with ihem, niui l»y prophetH spako
< »f' Him tlie .lust Oiio, tlmt -i.onld come to save
His chosen peoi)le Israel, (iom tlioir sins,
Yea. all the world, if tiny would hut helievo ;
And how they slow those |.ioph<>ts, and at last,
(The consimimation of tlicir heinous sin)
Betrayed and murdered llim they hiul foretold : —
Ami ns theji- lathers did, so did thoy still,
lie ceased. Mis v/ords had cut them to th(» heart,
And full of demon rage they gnashed their teeth :

Hut he had spoken only words of love ;

Dove like, his indi/ination ha<l no g;ill.

He boldly spoke vhe truth to save their souls.

For this he wis ordaijied .nid <o]\\ to preich,

That all mi;;ht feel the d(M(||\ \v.>iL'lit of sin,

And look t<> < 'hrist that lie might give them rest.

He had horri'.' fearless witness to tlio Truth

Amidst its enemies : ajid iiut in vain,

Kor 'niiiUt 'hose eneiriles was oiw whom (iod

Ha(i chos'n f'jr high and holy purpose.s,

Who afterwarfjs remenihered all his words,

The martyr-seed was sown in goodly soli.

He ceased, and looking steadfastly to heaven,

Beheld God's glory ine.xiiiessihle,

And Jesus Christ standing at (iod's right hand.

lie told his vision. Thoy im]>enitent,

And t(>nlold more filled witli leniKiiiac rage,

Smothereil his voice with ciie> and slopped their ear;

And rusheil with one accord, a lieiidish crowd,

rpon tlieir vii'tim, and with luurdeious force.

Cast him without the cily, and wiih stt)nes,

(Meet enililems of Iheir h irdened hearts) they slew

t)l€i)hcii with oiiwucU king-martyr of the Cross.

•* 'Ihat they might la; foigivt-n for their sins,"

Was his last prayer ; — and so he fell asleep. .

SAINT PKTKIUN PiUSON.

Tiioti thrice denietl, yet thrice helove<l,

Wateli l.y Thiii(> own forgiven friend ;
Jn sharpest peril)- faithlul proved,
i.el his soul love Thee to the end.

180

The prayor is hoaixl — elue wli ^o deep
His Hluniltor on the eve of > ith?

And whotefore smiles he in iiia .^jnep
As one who drew celestial breath?

He loves and is holovod again —
Can his soul ohoo.so but be at rest?

Sorrow hath Hod away, and pain
Doth not invade the guarded nest.

He dearly loves, and not alone,

For his wingud thoughts are soaring high-
Where never yot frail heart was known

To breathe in vain atl'ection's sigh.

He loves and wnops — liut more than toars
Have ^eillt»d 'I'hy wrlconio and his love —

One look Uvoh in him, and endears
Crosses and wrongs wher'^'or ho rove.

That gracious tending look, Thy call
To win him to himself and Thoe ;

Snhito the sorrow of bis fall,

Whiih else wore rud too bitterly.

Kven through the veil of HJoop it shiiios,
The memory of that kindly glance ;

An angel, watching l)y, divines,

And spares uwhilo, his blissful trance.

Or haply, to his native lake,
His vision wafts him back to talk

With Jesu.s, ore his flight ho t;ike,
As in that solemn evening walk,

When to the bosom of his friend.
The Shepherd, Mo whose name is Oooil,

Did Mis doar lambs and shoop commend,
Roth bought ind nourishod with Mis Hood.

Then laid on him th" inverted tree,

Wliich, firm cmliracod with heart and arm.

Might cast o'er hope and nion\orj,
O'er life iind dcvith, its awful charm.

With lightening heart ho boars it on,
Mis passport through ;h' eternal gates

To his swcni homo — so nearly won,
Ue seems, as by tlu' <loor ho waits—

Mil

The iinoxprf.-'ivc mne^ to hoar

Of angel nou^ aiiti aiigol motion,
RiKing anil falling on tlio ear,
, Like wftve^* in.joy"f» unhoinuled ocean.

Ills drertm is cliangefl — the Tyrant''* voice
ChUm to fliat last of glorious* deeds —

But as ho tIncs to rojoicv.
No Ilerod, but nn nngol leadH.

He dreaniH he nees a lamp Ha.sh hright,
Glancing aroun<l hin prison room —

But 'tis n gleam of lu'avt'iily light
That (IIIn up all th(> tuuple gloom.

The flame, Muit in a f«'W short years,

Deep through tli(> chainlicrs of the iU^sai

Blinll ftiert'e, and dry tin* f(nnit of toarh,
Irt waving o't.T hi«* dungeon bed.

Touche<l, lie upstarts — his chnin- inihind —
Through darksome vault, up massy stair,

His dizxy. doubting footsteiw wind.
To freedom and cool midnight air,

Then all hiinsplf. all joy and rnlm.

Tljough for a whili* liis hand fon'go ;
JustftH it touclu'd till' Martyrs palm,

He tum.s him to his Uit^k below.

The pastoral Mtafl", the kf»y« oi' Heaven,
To wield avvhih' in grey haired might |

Then from hU croHs to sprin>f f«trgiv('n,
And follow .iKsitM out of sight.

THE CONVKHHION OF SAINT PAl L.

The mid-day Hun, with fiercest glare,
Broods o'er the ha/.y, twinklitig air.

Along the h-vol snnd :
'Hie palm trees, sliadc unwavoruig li<'H,
JuBt as thy towerf, HamaMcus. rise

To greet yon wearied band.

T\\e leader of that martial orew
Beemf bent Nome mighty dee<l to .|o,
tk> steadily Jie speeds j

IHJ

i"'

'•1

Willi lipH linn cIosimI, jiu<l lixnl oy»\
Like wnri'ioi' wIumi tii<> light is tiigli,
Nor Uilk nor iaiul.si'ai)e hooiU.

What sn<MtMi l>la/<' is roinwl him pourol.
As tliougli all heavt'ii's rnlulgiMU hoar'l

In ono rich gl<»ry shone '!
One moment — an<l to earth ho falls:
What voice his inmost heart appaU ?

Voice hear«l hy him alono.

For to the rest hoth \vor<ls and IbriTi
Soem iost in lightn'ii;; and in storm,

While Saul in wakeful tranoo —
Sees deep witliin that da/./.ling Held
His persecute I Lord reVeale<|,

Willi keen, yet pitying glaneo ;

An<l hears the meek, upWraiding call
As gently on his jiirit tall.

As if tir Almighty Son
Were prisoner yei on thi- dark earth,
Nor had iiioclaimed Hi- royal l.ii-th,

Nor flis great )>o\ver Itegun.

" Ah 1 wherefore persecut'st th<ni Mo? "'
He heard an<l siw. and sought to l'it>o

His stiiiineil eye IV( Ml the si;rlit;
But heaven's liij:li magic hounil it there,
iStill ga/ing. ihongli uiilanghl to hear

Tir ui\sufrcralil(> light.

" Who art Thou. Lord ' '" he falters foi ih :
So shall sin ask of ht .i\ en and earth

At the last awful day :
*• VVIi.ii did »e -ei- Tliee sutleriug nigh,
And passed Thee with Mnhee<ling eye,

(Jrcal «lod of.fudgment |)ay?"

Ah ! lillle dieam our li<lle'^« eyes.
Wh.il '.'li.iiMii* p|e-(t||t e ()iev (je-|ii#0,

While in oiH' room 'l|'llrU|
To po'sei o| fame we nidejy iire^s —
Christ i- al liand In srorii ni I.Ir-Sj

('lirl^l siiU'ers 111 our m|H|m,

And llioiigh lioaveli's tflljes joiitf HilJeo have clo-(»d„
And our dear t.nvii i/i TJi— ie|y0HOt|(

||i|,()i aliove moil d lien ;
'jTp HVei'V (•(((' III every IhikJ
(Tliou||[i meek ear- oiil.\ iiiideiHliintl))

Ho f<|it'U)t'<i UN llu did then,

1S3

" Ah ! wherefore porsooute yo M<> ?
'TU hai'<l yn so in lovo should he

With your own oixlhisn woo :
Know, tlioujrh nt Uod's ri^jiit )mn<l I live,
I t'eol oiu'h wound j'ou reckUvss give

To the least saint below."

" I in yoiu' fwo. My hretliron, left,
Not willing yi> should lio IxMott

< M" waiting on your Lord ;
T\\o nn'iinost otUM'ing yo ciin make —
A didp of water — tor love's sake.

In heaven, ho sure, is storotl."

Oh! iiy those gentle tones and dear,
When 'Phoii hiist ^(;iy<'d onr wild career,

Thou only hoiic ol xtuls ;
Ne'er let uh east one look Ixdiind,
Mut in tlio thought of .Icsus lind

What evt'iy (lioright conti'ij*.

As to Thy last Apostle's heart

Thy lightning glan(>(> did then impart,

Zual'H nevei dying liic ;
So toai'h us on Thy shrine to lay
Uur hearts, an<i let them day liy day,

Intonser lila/.e, and higher.

And as each mild and winning note
(hike puIms Ihiit r<)und h.up -tring- lloat

When tlu^ lull strain is o'er),
heft lingering on his inw.ird e;ir,
Muhic that taught, as death drew near.

Love's lesson more and more.

kSo, as we walk our earthly roiuid.
Still may th(t e«-ho of that sound

He in our memory tored ;
•M 'hri^tians 1 lieliold your happy state,
("hrist is in those who on Him wait !

Make mueh of vour dear Lord ! "

TiiK sr:c()Ni) .\n\ i-:\T.

Tll"i' art the King ol Olory, hlessnl Lotxl

The Fiither-i eveila<lin« Son;
Ettfjpally the i'»)oxistent Woiti :

rii<

III

184

And now, for victories won
In humiin flosh, Thoo all tho lieavonH adore,
Who at the Futhor'H rigiit hand reignost evermore.

All power in heaven and oarth Thou wieldest there,

The Ijord of liados and of death,
The keys of that dark onipiro TJiou dost hear,

O'er all things that have breath,
Thy rule extend??, by hell in vain ojipoxfld :
Thou openeat, none can shut nor forc< what Thou haht closed.

Not vet are nil things put beneath Thy foet ;

Not yet the kingdoms of this world
Are Thine ; nor yet, consummate hin defeat,

The Prince of Darkness hurled
Down into hell's unfathomable void,
Nor Death, man's final foe, with berth's dark king, destroyed.

But Heaven and Eiirthand Ilell, or with ghul /.eal

Or blind concurrence, work thy will.
The day that shall the perfect Hchemo reveal.

And all Tny word fultil,
U drawing on ; and Farth is ripening fast
As for the sickle. 8oon shall sound that signal blast.

We know that Thou art coining, mighty Ix)rd !

To be the judge of quick and dead ;
To give thy faithful servants their rewar<l :

To crush the Serpent's head :
Lord, in Thy merits and Thy grace unl><mnde<l
1 put ray trust ; O lot me never be confounded.

THE SECOND ADVENT.

EvKN thus, amid thy pride and luxury,
O earth I shall that last coming burst on thee,
That secret coming of the Son of Man,
When all the cuerub-thronging clouds shall sliiae
Irradiate with His biight advancing sign ;

When that great Husbandman shall wave Ui^
Sweeping like cliaff', thy wealth and pomp away :
Still m the noon-tide of that nightless day,

Shalt thou thy wonted dissolute course maintain.
Along the busy mart and crowded street,
The buyer and the nellor still shall meet.

And marriage feasts begin thoir Jocunii strain :

fan,

185

Still to tho pouring out tlio oup of woo;

Till earth, a drunkard, reeliuji; to and fro,

And mountainH molten by I lis l»urnin)i foot,

Aod lieuvon His presence own, nil red with furnace heat.

The huidred-giit^d cities then.

The towers and tenipleH. naniod of men

Eternal and the thronoH of kiugn ;
The gilded summer palaces.
Tlie courtly bowers of lovo and ease,

Where still the bird of pleasure sings;
Ask ye the de-*lii»\ of ihcju '.'
Go, gaze on falb'n .Jerusalem I
Yea, mightier runner are in flu- fatal roll,

'dainst e'vrth and heaven <iod's -♦undnrd is uniurl'd,
The skies are shrivolle<l like a bunung scroll,
And the vueit common doom ensepulchieM the world.

Oh ! who shall then survive?
Oh ! who shall stand and live ?
When all that hath bocn is no more:
When for the round earth hung in air,
With all its constellations fair
In the sky's a/.ure oanopy :
When all the breathing earth, and -^|)arkling sea.

Is but a Hery deluge without shore.
Heaving along the abyss profound and dark,
A tiery deluge and without iw- ark.

Ix)rd of all power, when Thou art there alone,
On Thy eternal, fiery wboelfd throne,
That in its high meridian noon
Needs not the perished sun or moon :
When Thou art there in Thy prcsiiling state,

Widesceptciod monan-h o'er tho realm of doom.
When from the sea-<leptlis, from earth's darkest wo \h
The dead of all the agc^ round Thee walk ;
And when tho trilios of wit«kcdness are strown.
Like forest leaves in th' autumn of Thine ire :
Faithful and true ! Thou still wilt save Thine own !
Thu saints shall dw«>ll within th' unharming fire,
Each white robe spotless, blooming every palm,
li)ven Wife ae wo, by this still fountain side,
tSo uhall the Church, Thy bright and mystic Bride,
Hit on the stormy gulf, a halcyon bird of calm.
Yes, 'mid yon angry and destroying signs,
O'er us the rainbow of Thy mor«\v shines ;
"We hail, we bless the Mvenant of its beam,
Almighty to avenge, ulmightiest to redeem I

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186

THE TWO HORSEMEN

1st part.

TIk coineth ! He cometh ! the death-dealing king,

His pale steed is fleet as the hurricane's wing :

Around Him are ravening the monsters of hell,

Earth shi'inks from their asjiect, and shakes with their yell.

He cometh ! He cometh ! with sword dripping gore :
Desolation behind Him, and terror before :
His banner of darkness above Him is spread,
With pestilent vapour earth smokes at His tread.

Her kings and her captains oppose Him in vain ;
Her mantle no longer can cover her slain ;
The great are down- trampled, the mighty ones fail,
And their armies are scattered like leaves on the gale.

The beasts of the forest exult o'er their prey,
Grim Slaughter mows onward his merciless way,
Gaunt Famine, and livid Disease, at His side,
O'er monarchs and nations triumphantly ride.

And now from their slumber the tempests awaken :
They rage, and the stars from their orbits are shaken ;
The sun gathers blackness, the moon turns to blooil,
The heavens pass away ; and the isles from the tlootl,

And the mountains from earth, at the tumult retreat t
The prince and the peasant — the abject, the great —
The youthful, the aged — the i'earful, the brave —
The strong man, the feeble — the freeman, the slave,

To caverns and dens for a hiding-placo run ;
But who the keen eye of Jehovah can shun ?
From His face to conceal tliem, despairing they call
To the rocks and the mountains upon them to fall :

In vain ; for the day of decision at last

Has dawned, and the season of mercy is past :

He cometh from heaven, with the sword and the rod,

Who shall tread in His fury the wine-press of Goil.

His angel the fowls is inviting aloud
To the carnage of steeds and their riders to crowd,
Whose flesh ^hall be mangled, whose blood shall be spilled,
That the vulf ores and ravens may eat and be flUed.

187

2nd PA15T.

He Cometh ! He cometh! how glorious the sight !
His horse as the snow newly ffUlen is white ;
On Hi.s head are the crowns tluit betoken His power.
From His eyes flash red lightnings His foes to devour.

In blood has the vestura been dipped that He wears
And a name ou His tlii<.'Ii and His vostui-e He boars j
The Sovereign of sovereigns, that lottiest of names,
The Lord of all lords, its possessor proclaims.

And white are the horses, as now v> ithout stain.
Of the thousands of thousands who ride in His train ;
And white and unspotted the robes He has given
To be worn on this day by the armies of heaven.

The bow in His hand, lo ! unerring He bends,
With the fiword from His mouth every spirit He rends,
By His rod are down smitten all they that oppose,
And from conquering to conquer resistless He goes.

But see, where His presence the darkness illumes,
How lovely the aspect creation assumes !
New heavens, a new earth, a new ocean arise,
That fill every heart with a welcome sui-prise.

A city m;ijestic and spacious appears.
Which sin cannot enter, whei'e dried are all tears ;
With beauty resplendent, from dangers secure;
Where fruits are perennial, and waters as pure

As He who erects it, the blessotl await :
With shoutings of triumph they enter the gate,
With God, their Redeemer, for ever to reign,
And it closes ou all, but the I^amb and His train.

THE LAST DAY.

TrtB day of wrath, that dreadful day,
When heaven and earth shall pass away
What power shall be the sinner's stay?
How shall he meet that dreadful day ?

188

When, shriv'lling like a parched scroll,
The flaming heavens together roll,
And louder yet, and yet more dread,
Swells the high trump that wakes the dead.

Oh I on that day, that wrathful day,
When man to judgment wakes from clay,
Be Thou, Christ! the sinner's stay,
Though heaven and earth shall pass away.

THE FINAL JUDaMENT.

■ V

This done, the Omnipotent, Omniscient Judge,

Rose, infinite, the sentence to pronounce —

The sentence of eternal love or bliss !

All glory heretofore seen or conceived ;

All majesty annihilated, dropped

That moment from remembrance, and was lost ;

And silence, deepest hitherto esteemed,

Seemed noisy to the stillnens of this hour.

Ck>mpftrison3 I seek not, nor should find,

If sought : that silence which all being held

When God Almighty's Son from oft the walls

Of heaven the rebel angels threw, accursed.

So still, that all creation heard them fall

Distinctly in the lake of burning fire,

Was now forgotten, and every silence (4se.

All being rational, created, then

Around the judgment seat, intensely listened ;

No creature breathed : man, anpel, devil, stood

And listened ; the spheres stood still and every star

Stood still and listened ; and every particle

Remotest in the womb of matter, stood

Bending to hear, devotional and still.

And then upon the wicked first, the Judge

Pronounced the sentence written before of old :

" Depart from Me, ye curs' d, into the fire

Prepared eternal in the gulf of Hell,

Where ye shall weep ami wail for evermore.

Reaping the harvest which your sins have sown.'"

This done, the glorious Judge turning to right
With countenance of love unspeakable.
Beheld the righteouf, and approved them thus :
" Ye blessed of My Father, come ; ye just,
Enter the joy eternal of your Lora;
Reoei^'e your crowns, ascend and sit with Mo,
At God's righi hand in glory evermore."

189

THE SONG OF THE HUNDRED AND FORTY
AND FOUR THOUSAND.

Who are these in bright array,
This innumerable throng.
Round the altar night and day,
Hymning one triumphant song ?
" Worthy is the Lamb once slain,
Blessing, honour, glory, power,
Wisdom, riches, to obtain.
New dominion every hour."

These through fiery trials trod,
These from great affliction came ;
Now before the throne of God.
Seal'd Hth His almighty name ;
Clad in raiment pure and white,
Victor-palms in every hand,
Through their dear Redeemer's might,
More than conquerors they stand.

Hunger, thirst, disease unknown,
On immortal fruits they feed ;
Them, the Lamb amidst the throne.
Shall to living fountains lead :
Joy and gladness banish sighs.
Perfect love ('ispels all fears,
And for ever irom their eyes,
God shall wipe away the tears.

THE PLEASURES OF HEAVEN.

There all the happy souls that ever were,
kShall meet with gladness in one theatre ;
And each shall know there one another's face,
By beatific virtue of the place.
There shall the brother with the sister walk.
And sons and daughters with their parents talk j
But all of God : they still shall have to say.
But make Him all in all thei'* theme that day j
That happy day that never shall see night I
Where He will be all beauty to the sight ;

Wine or delicious fruits unto the taste j

A music in the ears will ever last ;

Unto the scent, a spioery or balm ;

And to the touch, a flower, like soft as palm.

lie will all glory, all perfection be,

God in the Union and the Trinity 1

That holy, great, and glorious mystery,
Will there revealed be in majesty,
By light and comfort of spiritual grace ;
The vision of our Saviour face to taco,
In His humanity ! to hear Ilim preacii
The price of our redemption, and to teach,
Through His inherent righteousness in death
The safety of our souls and forfeit breath !
What fulness of beatitude is here !
What love with mercy mixed doth appear!
To style us friends who were by nature foes !
Adopt us heirs by grace, who were of those
Had lost ourselves ; and prodigally spent
Our native portions and possessed reut I
Yet have all debts forgiven us ; an advance
By imputed right to an inheritance
In His eternal kingdom, vhere we sit
Equal with angels, and co-heirs of it.

THE BETTER LAND.

" I HEAR thee speak of the better land ;
Tiiou call'st its children a happy band :
]\[other 1 oh where is that radiant shore ? —
Shall we not seek it, and weep no more ?
Is it where the flower of the orange Ijlows,
And the tire flies dance through the myrtle boughs ? '■
" Not there, not there, my child ! "

'' Is it where the feathery palm trees rise.
And the date grows ripe under sunny skies ?
' )r 'midst the green islands of glittering seas,
Where fragrant forests perfume the breeze,
And strange, bright birds, on their starry wings,
Bear the rich hues of all glorious things? "
" Not therC; not there, my child ! "

191

'• Is it far away, in some region old,
Wh3re the rivers wander o'er sands of gold ? —
Where the burning rays of the ruby shine,
And the diamond lights up the secret mine,
And the pearl gleams forth from the coral strand
Is it there, sweet mother, that better land ? "
" Not there, not there, my child ! "

" Eye hath not seen it, my gentle boy!
Ear hath not heard its deep songs of joy ;
Breams cannot picture a world so fair, —
Sorrow and de ith cannot enter there ;
Time doth not breathe on its fadeless bloom,
iTor, beyond the clouds, and beyond the tomb,
It is there, it is there, my child 1 "

THE CITY OF REST.

U BIRDS from out the east, O birds from out the west,

Huve ye found that happy city in all your quest ?

Tell me, tell me, from earth's wandering may the hetirt ^nd

glad surcease ?
Can ye show me as an earnest any olive brancli of peace ?
I am weaiy of life's troubles, of its sin, and toil, and care ;
I am faithless, crushing in my heart so many a fruitless prayer.
(.» birds from out the east, O birds from out the west.
Can ye tell me of that City the name of whicli is Kest ?

iSay, doth a dreamy atmosphere that blessed city crown ?
Are there couches spread for sleeping softer t'lui the eider

down?
Does the silver sound of waters falling 'twixt its nnrV)le walls.
Hush its solemn silence even into stiller intervals ?
Doth the poppy shed its influence there, or doth the fable<l

inoly
With its leafy- laden Lethe lade the eyes with slumber holy ?
Do they never wake to sorrow, who iifter toilsome (niest,
Have entered in that City the name of which is Host 'i

Doth the fancy wile not there for aye? Is the restless soul's

endeavour
Hushed in a rhythm of solemn calm, forever and forever ?
Are human natures satisfied of their intense desii-e ?
Is there no more good beyond to seek, or do they not aspire?
But weary, weary of the ore within its yellow sun,

Hit

192

Do they lie and eat its lotus leaves, and dream life's toil is

done?
O tell me, do they there forget what here hath made them

blest?
Nor sigh agtiin for home and friends in the City nam^d Rest ?

O little birds, fly oast again,— O little birds, fly west ;
Ye have found no happy city in all your weary quest,
Still shall ye find no spot of rest wherever ye may stray,
And still lilce you the weary soul must wing its woary wayj
There sleepeth no such city within the wide earth's bound,
Nor hath the dreaming fancy yet its blissful portals found.
We are but children crying here upon a mother's breast,
For life and peace and blessedness, and for Eternal Rest ?

Bless God, I hear a still, small voice, above life's clamorous

din.
Saying, faint not, thou weary one, thou yet may'st enter in;
That City is prepared for those who well do win the light,
Who tread the wine-press till its blood hath washed their gar-
ments white.
Within it is no darkness, nor any baleful flower
Shall there oppress thy weeping eyes with stupefying power,
It iieth calm within the light of God's peace-giving breast,
Its walls are called Salvation, the City's name is Rest.

THE END.

lit-

TABLE OF CONTENTS.

PART I.

HISTORICAL INCIDENTS OF THE OLD TESTAMENT.

PAGR.

The Creation Addison.

The Creation Milton- • .

The First Sabbath Do ..

God Visible in all Nature Cowper. .

Adam's First Sensations Milton 9

The Garden of Eden Do 10

Eve's Recollections Do 11

Eve to Adam Do 12

" Adam, Where Art Thou ? " Ragg 12

Adam and Eve leaving Paradise Milton 14

Eve's First Born Mrs. Sigourney 14

"Cain, Where is Thy Brother Abel ? " Ragg 15

Cain on the Sea-Shore Stclberg IH

"Enoch walked with God" — Mrs. Hemans 18

The Deluge Proctor 19

Subsiding of the Waters of the Deluge Milton 21

To the Rainbow Campbell 21

The Destruction of Sodom Croly 2S

Abraham's Sacrifice Mi's. Leprohon 24

Hagar and Ishmacl Anon 25

Abraham at Macbpelah Mrs. Sigourney 27

The Repentance of Esau A. M. B. V 28

Jacob's Dream Croly 29

Jacob Wrestling with the Angel Wesley 30

The Burial of Jacob J. D. Burns 32

The Finding of Moses Grahamc 34

Jochebed's Soliloquy Hannah More 35

The Seventh Plague of Egypt Cr ly. 36

The First-Born of Egypt Anon 38

The Passage of the Red Sea Heber 40

The Song of Miriam Edmeston 42

Balaam Anon 43

Sisera Roade 44

Jephthah Do 44

Jephthah's Daughter Byron 46

Samson's Lament for the Loss of his Sight ■ Milton — 46

Hannah and Samuel Mrs. Hemans 47

The Child Samuel J. D. B 49

David and Goliath Drummond 50

Saul and David Grahame- • 5.'*

TABLE (JF C( JNTEN'l'S.

%. ''

PAGE.

Saul in the Cavo of EnRodi IleavyseKC. M

Saul and the Wit -h ot Endor Byron 54

The Three Mitrhty Men Anon 55

David's Lamentation over hia S.s;k Child. .N. P. Willis 57

Absalom Do 60

Temples Darnell (i2

Elijah's Interview Campbell *tH

Klisha Anon ('4

The Destruction of Sennacherib Byron ti5

Choral Hymn of the Jewish Maidens Milman Hfi

Jerusalem Moore <)8

Palestine Hebor Vfy

Hymn of the Captive Jews Milman 70

Oh! Weep for Those Byron. 71

On .Jordan's Eanks Do 71

Hymn of the Hebrew Maid Scott 72

■' By the Waters of Babylon." MeGeo 72

Ariel. Anon 73

Nfhemiah Do 7-1

The Messiah Pope 75

The Repentance of Nineveh ... Anon 78

?.♦

Babylon 's Fallen Do

The Cities of Old Brownlee

Tyre Mary Hewitt

The Fall of Nineveh Anon

The Vision in the Valley of Dry Bones Do. ..

Belshuzzar Byron ,

Belshazzar's Feast T. S. Hughes 87

Daniel's Soliloquy Hannah More . . iiO

Daniel's Prophecy— the Fall of Babylon . • Do DO

The Maccabees McGee 91

A Hebrew Melody Hogg 93

Watchman! what of the Night's Bowring 94

PART II.

HISTORICAL INCIDENTS OF THE NEW TESTAMENT.

IMGK.

Messiah's Advent Anon 97

Advent Do 89

Saint .John the Baptist Druramond 100

A Prelude for Christmas McGee 100

The Annunciation of the Blesscid Virgin

Mitry Keble 102

Hymn on the Nativity Mrs. Hemans 104

A Bethlehem Hymn Bonar

Bethlehem McDuflf

Christ's Nativity Campbell • . .

A Christmas Carol E. H. Seers.

Carol Anon. ■ .

Christmas Do

Adestfi Fideles Do

104
105
106
107
108
109
110

TABLE OF CONTENTS.

89
100
100

102
104
104
105
106
107
108
109
110

Tbo In'-ariialion

Christmas Day

Tho Madonna and Child

Tho Stattlo at Bethlehem

The Epiphany; or, Manifiiatation of Christ

to tho (J^entiles

The Star of Bethlehem

The Holy Innocents

Rachel weeriinsrfor her Children

The Presentation of Christ in the Temple
The Piiriliiafion of the Blesai>d Virgin-

Our Saviour's Boyhood

Christ in the Wilderness

The Fasting.

Christ J'erforming Miracles

Saint John tho Baptist Beheaded

The Leper

The Widow of Nain

Mary Mngdalcao

Tho Memorial of Mary

The Night in Galilee

Christ Stilling the Tempest

Tl.e Raising of the Daughter of Jairus • •
The Raising of the Daughter of Jairus- -

The Woman of Cau:ian

The Transiiguration

The Ten Lepers

Lazarus

The Raising of Lazarus

Christ Blessing Little Children

Christ's Entry into JorusaLom

Christ's E.itryinto Jerusalem

Christ Weeping over Jerusalem

Christ Comforting His Disciples

Christ Passing over Kedron

The Garden of (lethseman^

" I do not know tho Man "

Tho Passion of Christ

Ecco Homo

Judas' Repenttance

The Orueitixion

The Crucifixion

The Cross

The Highway to Mount Calvary

Hymn from the Breviary

The Resurrection

Easter

Journey to Emmaus

The Ascension

Whitsuntide, or Pentecost

PAGE.

Milman Ill

Keble 112

Dale 113

Mrs. Leprohon 114

Heber 115

Cowper 116

Keble 117

Heber 118

Mrs. Leprohon 119

Keblo 120

Mrs. Leprohon 121

Milton 122

Anon 123

Taylor 124

E. H. Bickersteth 125

N. P.Willis 133

Heber 136

Dale 138

Darnell 138

Mrs. Hemans 140

Reade 140

Anon 141

N. P. Willis 142

Doano 143

Newton 144

Anon .....' 14a

Mrs. Leprohon 146

Adeline 147

Dale 151

Julia Gill 152

Mrs. Sigourney 153

Croly 155

Milman 156

Dale 156

Cumberland 157

Marie De Fleury 167

Adeline 158

Anon 159

Milman 160

Paul Gerhardt 161

A.M.B. V 162

Croly 164

Milman 166

Loach 167

Anon 168

Do 170

Mary Howitt 171

■ Cowper 172

Drummond 173

Anon 174

■ Do 175

TABLE OF CONTENTS.

PAOR.

Saint Stephen the Proto-Martyr Keble 176

Saint Stephen the Proto-Martyr Reade 177

Saint Peter in Prison Keble 17»

The Conversion of Saint Paul Do 181

The Second Advent Condor im

The Second Advent Milnian 184

The Two Horsemen Greenwood 186

The Last Day Scott. 187

The FinalJudgment Pollock 188

The Song of the Hundred and Forty and

Four Thousand Montgomery 183

The Pl«»a8ures of Heaven Jonson 181)

The Better Land Mrs. Hemans 190

The City of Rest Hymns of the ages 191

I .

176
177
17«
181
Wi
184
186
187
188

18»
189
190
191