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To have tenderly bound up her scattered hair,
And have dried her tearful eyes!
And penitent tears to dry,
From her home in the ftarry fky.
O to have followed the mournful way
Of those faithful few forlorn!
The Cross for our Lord have borne!
To have wept at Mary's fide, To have lived as a child in her home, and then
In her loving care have died!
Hufh! and with reverent sorrow ftill
Mary's great anguifh fhare;
Thy cross, like His, to bear.
With those which thy Lord has borne,
Nor leave thy soul forlorn.
O to have seen what we now adore,
To have known, in the form that Jesus wore,
Hufh! for He dwells among us ftill,
And a grace can yet be thine, Which the scoffer and doubter can never know,
The Presence of the Divine. Jesus is with His children yet,
For His word can never deceive; Go where His lowly altars rise,
And worfhip, and believe.
Miss A. A. Proper. 1859.
APOOR wayfaring Man of grief
That I could never answer, Nay.
Once, when my scanty meal was spread,
Juft perifhing for want of bread;
And ate, — but gave me part again:
I spied him, where a fountain burft
Clear from the rock; his ftrength was gone;
The heedless water mocked his thirft,
I ran to raise the sufferer up;
Thrice from the ftream he drained my cup,
Dipt, and returned it running o'er;
I drank, and never thirfted more.
'T was night; the floods were out; it blew
A winter hurricane aloof;
To bid him welcome to my roof;
Stript, wounded, beaten, nigh to death,
I found him by the highway-fide
Revived his spirit, and supplied
But from that hour forgot the smart,
In prison I saw him next, condemned
The tide of lying tongues I ftemmed,
And honored him 'midft fhame and scorn;
My friendfhip's utmoft zeal to try,
He afked if I for him would die?
The flefh was weak, my blood ran chill,
But the free spirit cried, "I will."
Then in a moment to my view
The tokens in his hands I knew,
He spake; and my poor name he named:
"Of me thou haft not been afhamed;
These deeds fhall thy memorial be;
Fear not, thou didft them unto me."
James Montgomery. 1826.
THE INNER CALM
CALM me, my God, and keep me calm,
Calm me, my God, and keep me calm,
Soft refting on thy breaft;
And bid my spirit reft.
Calm me, my God, and keep me calm;
Let thine outftretched wing
Befide her desert spring.
Yes, keep me calm, though loud and rude
The sounds my ear that greet, Calm in the closet's solitude,
Calm in the buftling ftreet;