Yea, if a godlike thing it be
To revel in ubiquity,
Is there but empty boast in this,
"My mind to me a kingdom is ?"
-Peace, rash fool; be proud no more,
Count thy faults and follies o'er,
Turn aside, and note within
Thy secret charnel-house of Sin,
Thy bitter heart, thy covetous mind,
Evil thoughts, and words unkind:
Can so foul and mean a thing
Reign a spiritual King?
Art thou not-yea thou, thyself,
In hope a slave to pride and pelf?
Art thou not,-yea thou, my mind,
Weak and naked, poor and blind?
Yea, be humble; yea, be still;
Meekly bow that rebel Will;
Seek not selfishly for praise;
Go more softly all thy days;
For to thee belongs no power,
Wretched insect of an hour,—
And if God, in bounteous dole,
Hath grafted life upon thy soul,
Know thou, there is out of Him
Nor light in mind, nor might in limb;
And, but for One, who from the grave
Of sin and death stood forth to save,
Thy mind, that royal mind of thine,
So great, ambitious, and divine,
Would but a root of anguish be,
A madness and a misery,
A bitter fear, a hideous care
All too terrible to bear,
Kingly, but king of pains and woes,
The sceptred slave to throbs and throes!
MOTHER,-beneath fair Tarring's heavenward spire,
Where in old years thy youthful vows were paid,
When God had granted thee thy heart's desire,
And she went forth a wife, who came a maid,
With mindful steps thus wisely have we stray'd,
Full of deep thoughts: for where that sacred fire
Of Love was kindled, in the self-same spot,
Thou, with the dear companion of thy lot,
Thy helpmate all those years, mine honor'd sire,
To-day have found fulfilled before your eyes
The promise of old time ;-look round and see
Thy children's children! lo, these babes arise,
And call thee blessed: Blessed both be ye!
And in your blessing bless ye these, and me.
AT length, a dreary length of many years,
God's favor hath shone forth! and blest thee well,
O handmaid of the Lord, for all thy tears,
For all thy prayers, and hope, and faith-and fears,
With that best treasure of consummate joy
A childless wife alone can fully tell
How sorely long withheld-her first-born boy: This blessing is from heav'n; to heav'n once more, Another Hannah with her Samuel,
Render thou back the talent yielding ten,
A spirit, train'd right early to adore,
A heart, to yearn upon its fellow-men,
A being, meant and made for endless heaven,
This give to God: this, God to thee hath given.
PEARLS before swine: this is an old complaint; very humbleness and not in pride
The spirit feels it true; yet makes a feint
To rest with man's neglect well satisfied, And have its wealth of words, its stores of thought Despised or unregarded: woe betide
The heart that lives on praise! considering naught
Of Duty's royal edicts, that command
Thy talents to be lent, thy lamp to shine : Soul, be not faint; nor, body, stay thy hand;
Heed only this,-not whether those be swine, But whether these be pearls, precious and pure; That so, whatever fate the world make thine, With God for Judge, thy guerdon be secure.
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