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Even so, who loves the Lord aright,
No soul of man can worthless find ; All will be precious in his sight,
Since Christ on all hath shin'd• But chiefly Christian souls ; for they, Though worn and soild with sinful clay, Are yet, to eyes that see them true, All glistening with baptismal dew.
Then marvel not, if such as bask
In purest light of innocence, Hope against hope, in love's dear task,
Spite of all dark offence. If they who hate the trespass most, Yet, when all other love is lost, Love the poor sinner, marvel not ; Christ's mark outwears the rankest blot.
No distance breaks the tie of blood ;
Brothers are brothers evermore; Nor wrong, nor wrath of deadliest mood,
That magic may o'erpower; Oft, ere the common source be known, The kindred drops will claim their own,
And throbbing pulses silently
So is it with true Christian hearts ;
Their mutual share in Jesus' blood
Of holiest brotherhood : 204
Give and forgive, do good and love,
There is much need : for not as yet
Are we in shelter or repose,
With leaguer of stern foes;
Then draw we nearer day by day,
Each to his brethren, all to God;
Not wondering, though in grief, to find
THIRD SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY.
There is joy in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner that repenteth. St. Luke xv. 10.
O HATEFUL spell of Sin! when friends are nigh,
To make stern Memory tell her tale unsought, And raise accusing shades of hours gone by,
To come between us and all kindly thought !
Chill'd at her touch, the self-reproaching soul
Flies from the heart and home she dearest loves To where lone mountains tower, or billows roll,
Or to your endless depth, ye solemn groves.
In vain : the averted cheek in loneliest dell
Is conscious of a gaze it cannot bear, The leaves that rustle near us seem to tell
Our heart's sad secret to the silent air.
Nor is the dream untrue : for all around
The heavens are watching with their thousand eyes, We cannot pass our guardian angel's bound,
Resign’d or sullen, he will hear our sighs.
He in the mazes of the budding wood
Is near; and mourns to see our thankless glance Dwell coldly, where the fresh green earth is strewd
With the first flowers that lead the vernal dance.
In wasteful bounty shower'd, they smile unseen;
Unseen by man—but what if purer sprights By moonlight o'er their dewy bosoms lean
To'adore the Father of all gentle lights ??
If such there be; O grief and shame to think
That sight of thee should overcloud their joy, A newborn soul, just waiting on the brink
Of endless life, yet wrapt in earth's annoy!
O turn, and be thou turn'd! the selfish tear,
In bitter thoughts of low born care begun, Let it flow on; but flow refind and clear,
The turbid waters brightening as they run.
Let it flow on; till at thine earthly heart
; Then fearless turn where Heaven hath set thy part, Nor shudder at the
that saw thee stray.
O lost and found! all gentle souls below
prove Such joy o'er thee, as raptur'd seraphs know,
Who learn their lesson at the Throne of Love.