We are still as in a dungeon living, Still oppressed with sorrow and misgiving; Are but toils, and troubles, and heart-breakings. Christ has wiped away your tears forever; Ye have that for which we still endeavor. Songs which yet no mortal ear have haunted. Ah! who would not, then, depart with gladness, To inherit heaven for earthly sadness? Who here would languish Longer in bewailing and in anguish? Come, O Christ, and loose the chains that bind us! Lead us forth, and cast this world behind us. With thee, th' Anointed, Finds the soul its joy and rest appointed. FROM THE GERMAN OF DACH BY LONGFELLOW. MAN EVER RESTLESS. WHEN God at first made man, So strength first made a way; Then beauty flowed, then wisdom, honour, pleasure; When almost all was out, God made a stay; Perceiving, that alone, of all his treasure, Rest, in the bottom lay. For if I should, said he, Yet let him keep the rest, But keep them with repining restlessness; GEORGE HERBERT. 1593-1632. ON THE DEATH OF AN INFANT. WITH What unknown delight the mother smiled, When this frail treasure in her arms she pressed! Her prayer was heard, — she clasped a living child, – But how the gift transcends the poor request! A child was all she asked, with many a vow; Mother, behold the child an angel now! Now in her Father's house she finds a place; To guide thy footsteps to the world of light; That where she is, there thou mayst also be. JANE TAYLOR.-1733-1823. VIA CRUCIS, VIA LUCIS.* THROUGH the cross comes the crown; when the cares of this life Like giants in strength may to crush thee combine, Never mind, never mind! after sorrow's sad strife, Shall the peace and the crown of salvation be thine. Through woe comes delight: if at evening thou sigh, And thy soul still at midnight in sorrow appears, Never mind, never mind! for the morning is nigh, Whose sunbeams of gladness shall dry up thy tears! Through death comes our life: to the portal of pain, Through Time's thistle fields are our weary steps driven; Never mind, never mind! through this passage we gain The mansions of light and the portals of heaven. FROM THE GERMAN OF KOSEGARTEN. *The way of the Cross, the way of Light. MY TIMES ARE IN THY HAND. My times are in Thy hand! I know not what a day Or e'en an hour may bring to me; On Him rely, Who fixed the earth and starry sky. My times are in Thy hand! Pale poverty or wealth, Spring's balmy breath or Winter's snows, Sickness or buoyant health, Whate'er betide, If God provide, 'Tis for the best-I wish no lot beside. My times are in Thy hand! Thou art a friend Till time shall end, Unchangeably the same; in Thee all beauties blend My times are in Thy hand! I leave with Thee this only pray, To welcome Thee, Whene'er Thou comest to set my spirit free. My times are in Thy hand! Howe'er I die, "Twill be the dawn of heavenly ecstacy. FRAGMENTS. 1. UPON your heart this truth may rise: So should we live, that every Hour |