Though thou canst give no charity,
Thou canst do what is more.

The balm of comfort thou canst pour

Into his grieving mind;

Who oft is turned from wealth's proud door With many a word unkind.

Does any

from the false world find

Naught but reproach and scorn? Does any, stung by words unkind, Wish that he ne'er was born?

Do thou raise up his drooping heart,
Restore his wounded mind;

Though nought of wealth thou canst impart,
Yet still thou may'st be kind.

And oft again thy words shall wing
Backward their course to thee,
And in thy breast will prove a spring
Of pure felicity.

REVENGE OF INJURIES.

LADY ELIZABETH CAREW.

The fairest action of our human life
Is scorning to revenge an injury;
For who forgives without a further strife,
His adversary's heart to him doth tie.

And 'tis a finer conquest truly said,
To win the heart, than overthrow the head.

If we a worthy enemy do find,

To yield to worth it must be nobly done; But if of baser metal be his mind,

In base revenge there is no honor won, Who would a worthy courage overthrow? And who would wrestle with a worthless foe?

We say our hearts are great, and cannot yield,

Because they cannot yield, it proves them poor : Great hearts are tasked beyond their power but seld, The weakest lion will the loudest roar.

Truth's school for certain doth this same allow,
Highheartedness doth sometimes teach to bow.

A noble heart doth teach a virtuous scorn,

To scorn to owe a duty overlong,

To scorn to be for benefits forborne ;

To scorn to lie, to scorn to do a wrong,

To scorn to bear an injury in mind,

To scorn a freeborn heart slavelike to bind.

But if for wrongs we needs revenge must have,
Then be our vengeance of the noblest kind;
Do we his body from our fury save,

And let our hate prevail against our mind
What can 'ganst him a greater vengeance be,
Than make his foe more worthy far than he?
Had Mariam scorned to leave a due unpaid,

She would to Herod then have paid her love, And not have been by sullen passion swayed. To fix her thoughts all injury above

Is virtuous pride. Had Mariam thus been proud, Long famous life to her had been allowed.

MINISTERING ANGELS.

J. G. ADAMS.

Amid all our suffering and sin here below,
God's angels of mercy in readiness go;

With heart full or hand full, on errands of grace,
The woe to relieve, and the sin to efface.

They linger in brightness round infancy's way,

In youth, and strong manhood, and all through life's day; Their joy-giving presence, so earnest and free,

Makes Heaven where the power of the demon would be.

God's angels! not only on high do they sing,
And soar through our skies with invisible wing;
But here, on the earth, where in wretchedness lie
Its sin-stricken children to struggle and die.
They come where Intemperance its victim hath bound,
And raise up the fallen, and strengthen him round
With the firm hands of love, and inspire him to raise
The voice and the vow of obedience and praise.

They visit the Poor, whatsoever their lot,
In street, or in cellar, lone cabin, or cot;
God's bounty bestowing, in words of good cheer,
They bid the glad smile of assurance appear.
At the invalid's bed their prescriptions prevail,
And sickness and anguish no longer assail;
On the chain of the captive their ready hands see,
That captive exults in the song of the free!

They come in their mercy and power to dispel
The spectres of gloom from the prisoner's cell,
Ta love's name to say to the stricken one there,