Be thou a light in this dark vale,
This wilderness of tears,
Thy heart a spring which ne'er may fail
To cheer thy brother's years.
HUMANITY HOPEFUL AND LOVING AMID THE WORLD'S CRUELTY AND SCORN.
And, mark the wretch, whose wanderings never knew
The world's regard, that soothes, though half untrue,
Whose erring heart the lash of sorrow bore,
But found not pity when it erred no more.
You friendless man, at whose dejected eye
Th' unfeeling proud one looks-and passes by ;
Condemned on Penury's barren path to roam,
Scorned by the world and left without a home—
Ee'n he, at evening, should he chance to stray
Down by the hamlet's hawthorn-scented way
Where, round the cot's romantic glade are seen
The blossomed beanfield, and the sloping green,
Leans o'er its humble gate, and thinks the while-
Oh! that for me some home like this would smile,
Some hamlet shade to yield my sickly form
Health in the breeze and shelter in the storm!
There should my hand no stinted boon assign
To wretched hearts with sorrow such as mine!
That generous wish can soothe unpitied care,
And hope half mingles with the poor man's prayer.
Eighteen hundred years agone
Was that deed of darkness done;
Was that sacred, thorn-crowned head
To a shameful death betrayed,
And Iscariot's traitor name
Blazoned in eternal shame.
Thou, disciple of our time,
Follower of the faith sublime,
Who with high and holy scorn
Of that traitorous deed dost burn,
Though the years may never more
To our earth that form restore,
The Christ-Spirit ever lives,
Ever in thy heart He strives.
When pale Misery mutely calls,
When thy tempted brother falls,
When thy gentle words may chain
Hate, and Anger, and disdain,
Or thy loving smile impart
Courage to some sinking heart;
When within thy troubled breast
Good and evil thoughts contest,
Though unconscious thou may'st be,
The Christ-Spirit strives with thee.
When He trod the Holy Land
With his small Disciple band,
And the fated hour had come
For that august martyrdom;
When the man, the hun an love,
And the God within him strove,
As in Gethsemane He wept,
They, the faithless watchers, slept;
While for them He wept and prayed,
One denied, and one betrayed.
If to-day thou turn'st aside
In thy luxury and pride,
Wrapped within thyself, and blind
To the sorrows of thy kind,
Thou a faithless watch dost keep,
Thou art one of those who sleep.
Or, if waking thou dost see
Nothing of Divinity
In our fallen, struggling race,
If in them thou seest no trace
Of a glory dimmed, not gone,
Of a Future to be won,
Of a Future, hopeful, high,
Thou, like Peter, dost deny.
But if, seeing, thou believest,
If the Evangel thou receivest,
Yet if thou art bound to Sin,
False to the Ideal within,
Slave of Ease, or slave of Gold,
Thou the Son of God hast sold.
I never did the right,
Without a sweet reward
Of inward music and celestial light,
In beautiful accord.
Love her still!
She hath fallen very low,
Thou, who knew'st her long ago,
Little, little cans't thou see
Of her girlhood's purity?
But, though Sin hath left its trace
On her once sweet happy face,
And that innocent maiden brow
Droopeth in dark shadow now-
Though life's glory all hath fled,
And life's shame is her's instead,
Love her still!
Love her! let no harsh, cold word,
Man, from lips of thine be heard;
Woman, with no lifted eye
Mock thou her deep misery
Weep ye-tears, give tears alone,
To our world-forsaken one.
Love her! let her feel your love-
Summer showers that fall above
Fainting blossoms, leave with them
Freshened leaf and straightened stem ;
Sunshine oft doth give again
Bloom, the bitter storm hath ta'en;
And this human love of ours,
By the world's poor faded flowers,
May be found as dear a boon
As God's blessed rain and sun,
To restore their native hue,
And their native fragrance too.
Love her still!
Gather round her, weep and pray—
Clasp her, lead her from the way
She doth journey—tenderly,
From the wrong and misery,
To the better paths where Peace
Waiteth her, with sweet release
From life's heart-ache; so once more
In her breast the hope of yore
May be lit-that blessed hope
That with earthly loss doth cope,
Earthly sin and earthly shame,
Till all earth is but a name,
And the rescued Soul is given
With its treasure unto Heaven.
Oh! bethink ye of the bliss
That will fill your hearts for this.
Loving friends, what time ye see
Shadow after shadow flee
From her pale, sad face-what time,
Soaring in a thought sublime,
Ye shall know the while ye pray,
To His angels God doth say,
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