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And in the heart of man she sits as high-
Though grovelling eyes forget her oftentimes,
Seeing but this world's idols. The pure mind
Sees her for ever : and in youth we come
Filled with her sainted ravishment, and kneel,
Worshipping God through her sweet altar-fires,
And then is knowledge "good.” We come too oft-
The heart grows proud with fulness, and we soon
Look with licentious freedom on the maid
Throned in celestial beauty. There she sits,
Robed in her soft and seraph loveliness,
Instructing and forgiving, and we gaze
Until desire grows wild, and, with our hands
Upon her very garments, are struck down,
Blasted with a consuming fire from heaven!
Yet, oh! how full of music from her lips
Breathe the calm tones of wisdom! Human praise
Is sweet till envy mars it, and the touch
Of new-won gold stirs up the pulses well,
And woman's love, if in a beggar's lamp
'Twould burn, might light us cheerly through the world;
But Knowledge hath a far more 'wildering tongue,
And she will stoop and lead you to the stars,


And witch you with her mysteries, till gold
Is a forgotten dross, and power and fame
Toys of an hour, and woman's careless love,
Light as the breath that breaks it. He who binds
His soul to knowledge steals the key of heaven
But 'tis a bitter mockery that the fruit
May hang within his reach, and when, with thirst
Wrought to a maddening frenzy, he would taste-
It burns his lips to ashes !


He sat upon the ass's colt and rode
Toward Jerusalem. Beside him walked
Closely and silently the faithful twelve,
And on before him went a multitude
Shouting Hosannas, and with eager hands
Strewing their garments thickly in his way.
Th’ unbroken foal beneath him gently stepp'd,
Tame as its patient dam; and as the song
Of “welcome to the Son of David” burst
Forth from a thousand children, and the leaves
Of the wav'd branches touch'd its silken ears,
It turned its wild eye for a moment back,
And then, subdued by an invisible hand,
Meekly trode onward with its slender feet.

The dew's last sparkle from the grass had gone

As he rode up Mount Olivet. The woods
Threw their cool shadows freshly to the west,
And the light foal, with quick and toiling step
And head bent low, kept its unslacken'd way
Till its soft mane was lifted by the wind
Sent o'er the mount from Jordan. As he reach'd
The summit's breezy pitch, the Saviour rais'd
His calm blue eye—there stood Jerusulem!
Eagerly he bent forward, and beneath
His mantle's passive folds, a bolder line
Than the wont slightness of his perfect limbs
Betray'd the swelling fulness of his heart.
There stood Jerusalem! How fair she look'd
The silver sun on all her palaces,
And her fair daughters mid the golden spires
Tending their terrace flowers, and Kedron's stream
Lacing the meadows with its silver band,
And wreathing its mist-mantle on the sky
With the morn's exhalations. There she stood-
Jerusalem—the city of his love,
Chosen from all the earth ; Jerusalem-
That knew him not—and had rejected him;
Jerusalem-for whom he came to die !

The shouts redoubled from a thousand lips
At the fair sight, the children leap'd and sang
Louder Hosannas; the clear air was filled
With odor from the trampled olive leaves-
-But “ Jesus wept." The lov'd disciple saw
His Master's tears, and closer to his side
He came with yearning looks, and on his neck
The Saviour leant with heavenly tenderness,
And mourn'd—“ How oft, Jerusalem! would I
Have gather'd you, as gathereth a hen
Her brood beneath her wings—but ye would not!"

He thought not of the death that he should die-
He thought not of the thorns he knew must pierce
His forehead- of the buffet on the cheek-
The scourge, the mocking homage, the foul scorn!--

Gethsemane stood out beneath his eye
Clear in the morning sun, and there, he knew,
While they who “could not watch with him one

hour” Were sleeping, he should sweat great drops of blood, Praying the “ cup might pass.” And Golgotha

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