Of common tasks, of toil combined, She sought the larger share; And with a Wife's affection twined A Mother's watchful care. Still, Mary, be it thine to cheer Thy infant pilgrims' course to steer From love of Earth's deceitful toys Nor reck its griefs compared with joys In Christ to be reveal'd. So, saved by grace, when tombs unclose, Our raptures may we blend "Behold us, Lord of All! and those "Whom Thou to us didst lend!" TO A FRIEND ON HIS MARRIAGE. AND shall this morn behold their hands Before the altar blend With kindred clasp to weave the bands That only death may rend? Then blessings, all that earth may know, O'er the glad rites preside! And long the stream of comfort flow, Ere Death the bands divide! And still may wedded Love encrease, And Hope, without alloy: And spotless be the robe of Peace, And pure the tint of Joy! Yet dreams fond Youth its hour may last, The wheels of Time be staid? All that thou art, and all thou hast, Is but a fleeting shade. Saw ye that oak his forehead shake Broad in the summer sky? The year has roll'd; the storms awake: Uptorn behold him lie. And saw ye not yon Comet blaze With more than Planet's light? The unsubstantial glow decays, Is quench'd, and all is night. There is a strength more firm than steel, A charm than fairest face More fair; the strength of Christian zeal, The charm of Christian grace. To them whose hands this morn shall twine That strength, that charm, be given, Their souls to form by power Divine For endless love, for Heaven! When graves are burst, and skies are fled, And earth in flame expires; And as untimely figs are shed, Prone drop the starry fires; When millions round the burning throne In hope or terror wait, Till the heart-searching Judge make known Their never-changing state: One Question speaks to every ear The immutable decree "Didst thou on yonder smouldering sphere "Live to thyself, or Me?" THE SUN. PRIME Who crownedst the glow of Creation's gay dawn; King of Planets, that sparkle adorn'd by thy beam, Or fade into gloom from thy presence withdrawn ! While millions of eyes on thy Majesty gaze, From worlds beyond worlds amid ether that roll: O, shake not the fires on thy forehead that blaze, And ascribe to thyself what was made for the whole. From the throne whence thou guidest obedient spheres, Despise not the frail generations of man. What if threescore and ten be the term of his years? Lo! thousands, or myriads, number thy span. Why exult o'er yon orbs that in ether's wide sea Around thee for ages their circuit have trod? |