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That we may do whate'er is right,
And, gracious in thy heavenly sight,
Reflecting from our morning birth,
Thy light and glory through the earth.
W. MARTIN.

"LIGHTEN OUR DARKNESS."
WHEN the twilight gloom shall hover,
And the bird of night shall cover
With its wings the dying day;
When the power of sleep is stealing
Soul and sense, and thought and feeling,
Holy Father, let us pray.

Full of faith we are reclining,
Lull'd and tranquil, unrepining,
As upon a parent's breast;
On thy constant love reposing,
In thy peace our eyelids closing,
Rock'd by mercy unto rest.
Guard us, Lord, while we are sleeping;
Hold us in thy heavenly keeping;
Holy may our slumbers be:

Thou art near, our gloom to brighten;
Thou art near, our hearts to lighten;
Let our dreams be still of Thee.
So thy light, in darkness glowing,
Through the night will still be showing
Tokens of thy smile divine;

And our spirits not forsaken
Shall from night and sleep awaken,

Singing praise that they are thine.

W. MARTIN.

144

THE CHRISTIAN MOTHER'S HOPE.

JOY on the Mother's brow,

How happy and how bright!
How holy is the glow,

How sweet a spring of light!
From anxious love it springeth,
With grief and pain to cope;
And to her bosom clingeth
A Christian Mother's Hope.
Though many a cloud of sorrow
May o'er her heart be cast,
Hope looketh on the morrow,
And turneth from the past;
Forms halos in her tears
All beautiful and fair,
The tempest-drop that clears
The thunder from the air.
Oh! when upon the breast
The smiling infant lies,
With many a kiss impress'd

In joyful ecstasies,

How deep, how sweet the feeling
Those moments can impart!

What new delight revealing

In rapture to the heart!

Holy the Mother's gaze

Upon her infant child;
Pure as the seraph's blaze,
Where all is undefiled:
Angels from heaven would own
The beauty of that look,
And write her visions down
In God's eternal book.

THE CHRISTIAN MOTHER'S HOPE. 145

And why?-because they blend

With longings not of earth, To loves and joys extend

That have in heaven their birth; With all the sacred things

Alone to woman given, As never-failing wings

To lift her unto heaven.

Yearnings of soul and mind,

Fond pantings of full bliss,
Those rays of love which find
Their focus in a kiss-
These, these the angels know
Belong unto their sphere,
And full of joy would throw
Their smile upon them here.

When, like a budding rose
Unfolding in the wind,
Each feeling would disclose
The never-dying MIND,
How sweet the breath to greet
Of heart-awaken'd sighs!
How sweet the smile to meet
Of soul-illumined eyes!

This is the Mother's joy

For all her meed of pain She felt for her sweet boy, And fain would feel again;

And as emotion swells

Like music in her breast,
Her smile of rapture tells
How proud she is and bless'd.

L

146 THE CHRISTIAN MOTHER'S HOPE.

Oh! as the flower expands,

Its altar is her knee;
And there its little hands
Are raised, Lord, to thee:
Here offers up each day

The "firstfruits" of its youth,
And learns to know the way
Of righteousness and truth.

How sweet the hope is, then,
The anxious Mother feels!
How sweet the bliss is, when
Some token-bud reveals
That grace is working in

Its nature rude and wild,

To stay the taint of sin

That GOD is with her child!

Then fade the many fears

Of this world's cruel snares;
The darkest tempest clears

Before her anxious prayers;
The throbbing breast is still,
And feels a touch of balm;
And FAITH the heart doth fill,
And it is hush'd and calm.

She fears not then her bark

To launch where storms may rave; To her it is an ark

Of promise on the wave:

She feels, that although tost

Upon the rude world's strife,

It never can be lost

While "Christ within" is LIFE.

THE AWAKENING OF THE SPIRIT.

She knows, that though the flood

Of misery should abide
Awhile around the good,

That they will upward ride,
Though all be gloom around,
And all be dark above;
For in that gloom is found
The rainbow-smile of Love.
Yet there's a lonely fear

A Mother lingers o'er,
With many a bitter tear

Drawn from her bosom's core;
Which, when her darling's eye
Is dim, and cheek is wan,
Would conjure up the sigh
For grief to feed upon.

Then comes that HOPE to bless,
That hope and holy trust,
Whose visions are no less

Though flesh be turn'd to dust;

The Christian Mother knows
That death a life has won;

In FAITH her bosom glows

She cries-"THY WILL BE DONE.'

147

W. MARTIN.

THE AWAKENING OF THE SPIRIT.
"The night is far spent-the day is at hand."

THUS the soul lies

Sleeping and spell-bound; and the monster sin
Sits like an incubus to tyrannize

O'er all within.

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