What would he more? The world his sceptre ownsAloft from column, cupola, and tower, He views ten kingdoms prostrating their thrones, Submissive to his delegated power, The vassal-subjects of his magic name What would he more to seal a deathless fame? And yet to reign as king he held as naught, When from his eye coursed down the bitter tear— No longer Earth's magnificence he sought, Or fear'd man's face-sin, sin his only fearTo latest times he shunn'd not to proclaim Jehovah's glory in his own deep shame. He braved a vow his Master's head to shield, Yea, he denied with curses!-thrice the word Passed unrebuked his lip, with brazen brow ; For lo! the Sufferer turns his wo-worn face, And to the sinner tell the Saviour nigh— He heeded not the deadly fight he fought, Nor his heart's pangs-his wandering sheep he sought : He sought, and found-the arrow Peter smote, Oh, then! why drag him forth who thus did mourn, Bitter the tears! and let them freely flow, For evil was the hand that placed him there! How would he weep to serve the nation's wo, By claiming homage in God's House of Prayer! How weep to see his form, from realms above, Stand 'twixt his fellow-man and Jesus' look of love! (Original.) TO THE REV. ON THE ANNIVERSARY OF THE OPENING OF ST EMMELINE DRUMMOND. CHURCH. A YEAR has pass'd away since first And still within these hallow'd walls Swells high our note of praise. But some since then have pass'd away Before another year is past, Should we be call'd to die, Oh, may each vacant place but mark Another fill'd on high! And here, as each returning day That those for whom you weep and pray, And labour here below, May stand in glory by your side, And long may you within these walls Before your Master's throne. SONNET. ON WINTER. DELTA. ALL things around us preach of Death: yet mirth And had our everlasting home on earth! To fit us for a dread eternity. Hear ye, that watch with Faith's unslumbering eyeEarth is our pilgrimage, our home is Heaven! |