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Though stain'd with Christian gore ;The blood of souls by Thee redeemd, But, while I rov'd or idly dream'd,

Lost to be found no more.

For oft, when summer leaves were bright,
And every flower was bath'd in light,

In sunshine moments past,
My wilful heart would burst away
From where the holy shadow lay,
Where Heaven

my

lot had cast.

I thought it scorn with Thee to dwell,
A Hermit in a silent cell;

While, gaily sweeping by,
Wild Fancy blew his bugle strain,
And marshall'd all his gallant train

In the world's wondering eye.

I would have join'd him-but as oft
Thy whisper'd warnings, kind and soft,

My better soul confess’d.

My servant, let the world alone“ Safe on the steps of Jesus' throne

“ Be tranquil and be blest.

66

“ Seems it to thee a niggard hand " That nearest Heaven has bade thee stand,

« The ark to touch and bear, “ With incense of pure heart's desire “ To heap the censer's sacred fire,

66 The snow-white Ephod wear ?"

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Why should we crave the worldling's wreath, On whom the Saviour deign’d to breathe,

To whom his keys were given, 1 Who lead the choir where angels meet, With angels' food our brethren greet,

And pour the drink of Heaven?

When sorrow all our heart would ask,
We need not shun our daily task,

And hide ourselves for calm ;
The herbs we seek to heal our woe
Familiar by our pathway grow,

Our common air is balm.

Around each pure domestic shrine
Bright flowers of Eden bloom and twine,

Our hearths are altars ail;
The prayers of hungry souls and poor,
Like armed angels at the door,

Our unseen foes appal.

Alms all around and hymns within-
What evil eye can entrance win

Where guards like these abound ?
If chance some heedless heart should roam,
Sure, thought of these will lure it home

Ere lost in Folly's round.

These

Ø joys, that sweetest in decay,
Fall not, like wither'd leaves's away,

But with the silent breath
Of violets drooping one by one,
Soon as their fragrant task is done,

Are wafted high in death!

SECOND SUNDAY AFTER EASTER.

He hath said, which heard the words of God, and knew the knowledge of the Most High; which saw the vision of the Almighty, falling into a trance, but having his eyes open : I shall see him, but not now : I shall behold him, but not nigh : there shall come a Star out of Jacob, and a Sceptre shall arise out of Israel, and shall smite the corners of Moab, and destroy all the children of Sheth. Numbers xxiv. 16, 17.

O FOR a sculptor's hand,

That thou might'st take thy stand,
Thy wild hair floating on the eastern breeze,

Thy tranc'd yet open gaze

Fix'd on the desert haze, As one who deep in heaven some airy pageant sees.

In outline dim and vast

Their fearful shadows cast
The giant forms of empires on their way

To ruin: one by one

They tower and they are gone, Yet in the Prophet's soul the dreams of avarice stay.

No sun or star so bright

In all the world of light That they should draw to heaven his downward eye:

He hears th’ Almighty's word,

He sees the angel's sword,
Yet low upon the earth his heart and treasure lie.

Lo from yon argent field,

To him and us reveal'd,
One gentle star glides down, on earth to dwell.

Chain'd as they are below

Our eyes may see it glow, And as it mounts again, may track its brightness well.

To him it glar'd afar,

A token of wild war,
The banner of his Lord's victorious wrath :

But close to us it gleams,

Its soothing lustre streams Around our home's green walls, and on our church

way path.

We in the tents abide
Which he at distance eyed

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