Puslapio vaizdai
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The echoes of voice and step are gone,

There is silence still and deep;

Yet we know she sings by God's bright throneThen wherefore do we weep?

The cheek's pale tinge, the lid's dark fringe,

That lies like a shadow there,

Were beautiful in the eyes of all,

And her glossy golden hair!

But through that lid may never wake

From its dark and dreamless sleep;

She is gone where young hearts do not break— Then wherefore do we weep?

That world of light with joy is bright

This is a world of wo:

Shall we grieve that her soul hath taken flight,

Because we dwell below?

We will bury her under the mossy sod,

And one long bright tress we'll keep; We have only given her back to God, Ah! wherefore do we weep?

THE LILY OF THE VALLEY.

BISHOP MANT.

FAIR flower, that lapt in lowly glade, Dost hide beneath the greenwood shade, Than whom the vernal gale

None fairer wakes on bank or spray,

Our England's Lily of the May,

Our Lily of the vale!

Art thou that "Lily of the field"
Which, when the Saviour sought to shield
The heart from blank despair,

He show'd to our mistrustful kind,

An emblem to the thoughtful mind

Of God's paternal care?

Not thus I trow; for brighter shine
To the warm skies of Palestine

Those children of the East!
There, when mild autumn's early rain
Descends on parch'd Esdrela's plain
And Tabor's oak-girt crest,

More frequent than the host of night,
Those earth-born stars, as sages write,

Their brilliant disks unfold;

Fit symbol of imperial state,
Their sceptre-seeming forms elate,

And crowns of burnish'd gold.

But not the less, sweet springtide's flower!
Dost thou display thy Maker's power,
His skill, and handy-work—

Our western valleys' humbler child,
Where in green nook of woodland wild
Thy modest blossoms lurk.

What though nor care nor art be thine,
The loom to ply, the thread to twine;
Yet, born to bloom and fade,
Thee, too, a lovelier robe arrays
Than e'er in Israel's brightest days
Her wealthiest king array'd.

Of thy twin leaves the embow'd screen,
Which wraps thee in thy shroud of green;
Thy Eden-breathing smell;

Thy arch'd and purple-vested stem,
Whence pendant many a pearly gem
Displays a milk-white bell;

Instinct with life, thy fibrous root,

Which sends from earth the ascending shoot,

As rising from the dead

And fills thy veins with verdant juice,

Charged thy fair blossoms to produce,

And berries scarlet red;

I

The triple cell, the twofold seed,
A ceaseless treasure-house decreed,
Whence aye thy race may grow,
As from creation they have grown,

While Spring shall weave her flowery crown,
Or vernal breezes blow ;-

Who forms thee thus with unseen hand?

Who at creation gave command,

And will'd thee thus to be;

And keeps thee still in being through
Age after age revolving ?-who

But the Great God is He?

Omnipotent, to work his will;
Wise, who contrives each part to fill
The post to each assign'd;
Still provident, with sleepless care
To keep-to make thee sweet and fair
For man's enjoyment, kind!

"There is no God," the wicked say;
"O God! why cast'st thou us away?"

Of feeble faith and frail

The mourner breathes his anxious thought;

By Thee a better lesson taught,

Sweet Lily of the vale!

Yes! He who made and fosters thee,

In Reason's eye perforce must be

Of majesty divine;

Nor deems she, that His guardian care

Will He in man's support forbear,

Who thus provides for thine.

"JUDGE NOT."

EDMUND PEEL.

In many a mould the potter casts the clay,
Imbued with every tinge from grave to gay:
Thus we are moulded; thus to one good end,
With varied colouring of thought may tend,
Behoves us, therefore, unbecoming pride,
Harsh thoughts, and haughty looks, to lay aside;
To keep the tongue that blesseth God, from gall;
The heart-His temple-open unto all ;
None judging, none condemning; to the Lord
Leaving alike to punish and reward-

To Him whose beams on good and evil shine
Benevolent, beneficent, Divine.

The Eternal Father, Lord of all that lives,
The means of bliss to every being gives.

By Him created, as by Him preserved,
All have enjoy'd the bounty-none deserved;
For all, the Son Eternal laid aside

His amaranth of Deity, and died;

On all, who seek assistance from above,

The Eternal Spirit lights-for God is love!

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