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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
Move heart towards heart by sympathy.

So is it with true Christian hearts ;

Their mutual share in Jesus' blood
An everlasting bond imparts

Of holiest brotherhood : 204

Give and forgive, do good and love,
By soft endearments in kind strife
Lightening the load of daily life!

There is much need : for not as yet

Are we in shelter or repose,
The holy house is still beset

With leaguer of stern foes;
Wild thoughts within, bad men without,
All evil spirits round about,
Are banded in unblest device,
To spoil Love's earthly paradise.

Then draw we nearer day by day,

Each to his brethren, all to God;
Let the world take us as she

may,
We must not change our road;

Not wondering, though in grief, to find
The martyr's foe still keep her mind ;
But fix'd to hold Love's banner fast,
And by submission win at last.

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.

all

obscure

Let it flow on; till at thine earthly heart
In penitential drops havé ebb'd away;

very

; Then fearless turn where Heaven hath set thy part, Nor shudder at the

eye

that saw thee stray.

O lost and found! all gentle souls below
Their dearest welcome shall

prepare,

and

prove Such joy o'er thee, as raptur'd seraphs know,

Who learn their lesson at the Throne of Love.

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