Yes! he hath left thee, mother dear! His throne is far above;

How canst thou be so full of joy

When thou hast lost thy Love?

O surely earth's poor sunshine no To thee mere gloom appears, When he is gone who was its light For three and thirty years.

Why do not thy sweet hands detain
His feet upon their way?
O, why doth not the mother speak,
And bid her Son to stay?

Ah, no! thy love is rightful love,
From all self-seeking free;

The change that is such gain to him
Can be no loss to thee!

"T is sweet to feel our Saviour's love,
To feel his presence near;
Yet loyal love his glory holds
A thousand times more dear.

Ah! never is our love so pure
As when refined by pain,

Or when God's glory upon earth
Finds in our loss its gain!

THE CHRISTIAN THRONES.

107

THE CHRISTIAN THRONES.

W. P. LUNT.

"Then answered Peter, and said unto him, Behold, we have forsaken all, and followed thee; what shall we have therefore?

"And Jesus said unto them, Verily I say unto you, that ye which have followed me, in the regeneration, when the Son of Man shall sit on the throne of his glory, ye also shall sit upon twelve thrones, judging the twelve tribes of Israel.' Matthew xix. 27, 28.

"O NOT in vain, my chosen band,
Have ye deserted all for me;
Ye're held by an almighty hand,
That guides the car of destiny.
The awe-struck nations, as ye go

In triumph through the earth, shall bow.

"Thrones shall be yours, not earthly thrones,

The crumbling seats of human pride,

The King of kings shall give you crowns,
And raise you honored to my side.
Where'er Messiah's glory spreads,
Reflected light shall grace your heads."

It was no chief in war-array,

Whose battle-share had ploughed the soil

Of many a realm, thus gave away

The harvest of his bloody toil.

These words of hope by Him were said
Who had not where to lay his head.

Though humble was his earthly state From whom the cheering promise came, And mean as was their seeming fate

Who heard announced their future fame, The advancing ages yet beheld The wondrous prophecy fulfilled.

Saviour! awhile to death submit;

Let frantic foes above thee rave; Hell and the world in vain unite,

Thy gate of triumph is the grave. The worm thy fellow once, but now Heaven's diadem adorns thy brow.

And ye who stood around the tree,
And knew his sufferings full well,-
Ye trusted that it had been he

Should have redeemed lost Israel.
Ye trusted! Have ye lost that trust?
The cross is borne, the tomb is burst.

Your hopes revive; but not at once
Must ye the promised height attain;
They who would share the recompense
Must drink the cup of shame and pain,-
Must bear to be tormented, spurned,
Must give their bodies to be burned!

The cup is drained; in many a land
Your scattered limbs dishonored lie;

THE CHRISTIAN THRONES.

And mustering fast at Heaven's command,
The ministers of vengeance fly;

The blood-stained cross they bear on high,
Blest symbol now of victory.

What shriek is that which rends the air?
Jerusalem, with streaming eyes,

Utters imploringly her cry,

And looks for safety to the skies. Too late, alas! she seeks her good; Her garments are defiled with blood.

God's holy prophets she hath slain,

From God's own Son she turned away;
Her corse lies mangled on the plain,
The eagles gather to their prey.
They flap in triumph o'er the dead;
Jerusalem! thy glory 's fled!

The Roman Cæsars rule the world;
Jehovah's sway is given to Jove;
Another standard is unfurled,-

The eagle cowers to the dove,-
Before the nation's wondering eyes
The Apostolic Thrones arise.

The Northern whirlwind sweeps in vain

O'er the fair fields of Italy,

These thrones untouched by Goth remain,
And Vandal vengeance passes by;

109

Christ and his holy twelve command
The homage of the barbarous band.

Europe awhile, struck with dismay,
Saw in her sky the Crescent's light;
It faded 'midst the blaze of day,

It only decks the brow of night.
Where science, art, and freedom shine
The Gospel mingles light divine.

To unknown shores, truth's guiding star
Lights the discoverer o'er the sea;
To Western wilds it points afar,
The future empire of the free;
And here, in freedom's chosen land,
The Christian Thrones exalted stand.

The ocean islands catch the light

Which on their gloom in glory breaks; And superstition, with affright,

Through all her vast dominions quakes. The regions that have felt her rod Must be surrendered back to God.

It comes, the long predicted day,
When all mankind, with one accord,
Shall fling their idol gods away,

And pay due homage to the Lord!
While earthly states to ruin tend,

The Christian Thrones shall know no end.