FOR a mind more clear to see,
A hand to work more earnestly,
For every good intent;
O, for a Peter's fiery zeal,
His conscience always quick to feel,
And instant to repent!
O for a faith more strong and true
Than that which doubting Thomas knew,
A faith assured and clear;
To know that He who for us died,
Rejected, scorned, and crucified,
Lives, and is with us here.
O for the blessing shed upon
That humble, loving, sinful one,
Who, when He sat at meat,
With precious store of ointment came
(Hid from her Lord her face for shame)
And laid it on His feet.
O for that look of pity seen
By her, the guilty Magdalene,
Who stood her Judge before;
And listening, for her comfort heard,
The tender, sweet, forgiving word:
"Go thou, and sin no more!"
O to have stood with James and John,
Where brightness round the Saviour shone,
Whiter than light of day;
When by the voice and cloud dismayed,
They fell upon the ground afraid,
And wist not what to say.
O for the vision that sufficed
That first blessed martyr after Christ,
And gave a peace so deep,
That while he saw with raptured eyes
Jesus with God in Paradise,
He, praying, fell asleep.
But if such heights I may not gain,
O Thou to whom no soul in vain
Or cries, or makes complaints;
This only favour grant to me-
That I, of sinners chief, may be
The least of all Thy saints.
OU'RE rich, and yet you are not proud;
You are not selfish, hard, or vain :
You look upon the common crowd
With sympathy and not disdain.
You'd travel far to share your gold
With humble sorrow unconsol'd;
You'd raise the orphan from the dust,
And help the sad and widow'd mother;
Give me your hand-you shall you must
I love you as a brother!
You're poor, and yet you do not scorn,
Or hate the wealthy for their wealth;
You toil, contented, night and morn,
And prize the gifts of strength and health:
You'd share your little with a friend,
And what you cannot give, you'd lend;
You take humanity on trust,
And see some merit in another;
Give me your hand-you shall-you must-
I love you as a brother!
And what care I how rich you be?
I love you, if your thoughts are pure;
What signifies your poverty,
If you can struggle and endure?
'Tis not the birds that make the spring-
'Tis not the crown that makes the king-
If you are wise, and good, and just,
You've riches better than all other!
Give me your hand-you shall-you must-
I love you as a brother!
A PLEA FOR WIDER KNOWLEDGE AND WISER LEGISLATION.
IGH on his throne sat the Great God GIN, And he looked on his blazing hall, There was light without, there was light within, There was music over all.
Yet far above him the sweet stars shone,
And the moon sailed out of the cloud,-
Do they know of the ghastly work that is done
In the palace that looks so proud?
Quoth the Great God GIN, "There is none like me,
For I rule over rich and poor;
And streams of men like the rising sea
Flow in at my open door.
"The fair frank lad and the rosy maid
Come tripping in with the rest;
I care not who, so my tithe be paid,
And I take of the people's best.
"A shower of gold when the week is done,
I get from the teeming mill;
And sweet is the music as one by one
Their shillings roll in the till.
"But the wage of shame is as clean to me
As the best of the labourer's toil;
And many a daughter of night I see
Come up to me for her moment's foil.
"She loves the light of my goodly halls,
And quaffs the respite she finds therein,
So merry the laughter that round her falls,
A tig for the sorrow that comes of sin!
"But I have a smile more keen than her's,
And I laugh in my heart as the slaves go by,-
Do they dream of the devil that in them stirs,
Or the hell that kindles the glazing eye?
"Look under my throne as I count my dues,
No royal robes have I gathered there,
Strange things in a palace, what king would choose
To take such tribute or ask such share?
"For dead men's bones have I heaped amain,
With skulls once home of the world's best wit,
Hearts long broken, and fair hopes slain,-
All these have I cast in my seething pit!
"And in and out goes the river of Death,
That looked from afar like a silver stream;
Who thought as he quaffed with jubilant breath,
That this was the end of his joyous dream?
"The maid that danced with the flowing gold,
And the man that stooped with the silver shred,
Have fallen together, their days are told,
And both lie now in my ghastly bed!
"The soldier that went from the peasant's cot,
And stood to the foe as a tower of strength,-
He too is here-nor sword, nor shot,
Has sent them back to the dust at length.
"The sailor that braved the rolling seas,
And mocked as the swooping storm went past,
Is wrecked in port-he is one of these,
Shatter'd and sodden, and sinking fast!
" Wherever I look is my triumph spread,
In city, or village, on land, or sea,
No moor so desolate, wild, and dread,
But payeth first its toll to me!
"Some say in scorn, that a time shall come
When all my palace shall melt in gloom,
My store be scattered, my gorgeous home
Shunned in the dark as a leper's tomb.
"They speak of knowledge, they hint of law,
We will bind this Great God GIN,' say they;
As the wind that harries the flying straw,
I laugh from the height of my boundless sway!
"I count my forts-they are far and wide,
And blaze through the night like a beacon-chain,
Do the pigmies know of the power defied?
Do they count the list of my royal train?
"Come Law, come Knowledge, I care not when,
I break them both as a shivering glass;
My throne is set in the lusts of men,
I reign for ever-they wane and pass!"
So spake in his glory the Great God GIN,
And the lights flared up as his words went forth,
There came no answer, without and within
They bowed their homage, they told his worth.
VOICE IN THE DISTANCE.
Thus hath this Great God dared and done,
And the lands are dark in his ghastly sway, -
Oh Law! oh Knowledge! oh both in one,
Come down and bring us the better day!
(From "Rhymes with Good Reason."
THY flyest thou away with fear;
Trust me, there's nought of danger near;
I have no wicked hook
All covered with a snaring bait,
Alas, to tempt thee to thy fate,
And drag thee from the brook.
O harmless tenant of the flood,
I do not wish to spill thy blood,
For Nature unto thee
Perchance hath given a tender wife,
And children dear, to charm thy life,
As she hath done for me.
Enjoy thy stream, O harmless fish;
And when an angler for his dish,
Through gluttony's vile sin,
Attempts, a wretch, to pull thee out,
God give thee strength, O gentle trout,
To pull the rascal in !
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