My bark was drifted down the stream, An idle, light, and fragile thing, Henceforth the tiller Truth shall hold, I feel a glorious power within, Oh, laggard Soul! unclose thine eyes, Of joy ideal waste thyself: Awake, and soar aloft! Unfurl this hour those falcon wings FRANCIS S. OSGOOD. Endestructibility of Love. THEY sin who tell us love can die; All others are but vanity. In heaven ambition cannot dwell, Earthly these passions, as of earth, Its holy flame for ever burneth, From heaven it came, to heaven returneth; At times deceived, at times oppressed, And hath in heaven its perfect rest: Hath she not then, for pains and fears, The day of woe, the anxious night, For all her sorrow, all her tears, An over-payment of delight? ROBERT SOUTHEY. I the Good Fight have fought. "THE good fight have fought "— O when shall I declare! The victory by my Saviour got, When all my warfare's past! This blessed word be mine, Just as the port is gain'd;- The apostles of my Lord, To whom it first was given, They could not speak a greater word, Nor all the saints in heaven. JOHN WESLEY. E see them Walking in an Air of Glory. HEY are all THEY gone into a world of light, I alone sit lingering here; Their very memory is fair and bright, It glows and glitters in my cloudy breast, I see them walking in an air of glory, O holy Hope, and high Humility, High as the heavens above! These are your walks, and you have showed them me, To kindle my cold love. Dear, beauteous Death, the jewel of the just, He that hath found some fledged bird's nest may know, ; At first sight, if the bird be flown But what fair field, or grove, he sings in now, That is to him unknown. And yet as angels, in some brighter dreams, And into glory peep. If a star were confined into a tomb, Her captive flame must needs burn there; But when the hand that locked her up gave room, She'd shine through all the sphere. O Father of eternal life, and all Created glories under Thee! Resume thy spirit from this world of thrall Into true liberty. Either disperse these mists, which blot and fill My perspective still as they pass; Or else remove me hence unto that hill, Where I shall need no glass. HENRY VAUGHAN. Enfinite Spirit! who art round us ever. NFINITE Spirit! who art round us ever, INF In whom we float, as motes in summer-sky, May neither life nor death the sweet bond sever, Which joins us to our unseen Friend on high. Unseen-yet not unfelt-if any thought Has raised our mind from earth, or pure desire, A generous act, or noble purpose brought, It is thy breath, O LORD, which fans the fire. To me, the meanest of thy creatures, kneeling, Conscious of weakness, ignorance, sin, and shame, Give such a force of holy thought and feeling, That I may live to glorify thy name; That I may conquer base desire and passion, That I may rise o'er selfish thought and will, O'ercome the world's allurement, threat, and fashion, Walk humbly, softly, leaning on thee still. I am unworthy. Yet, for their dear sake I ask, whose roots planted in me are found; For precious vines are propp'd by rudest stake, And heavenly roses fed in darkest ground. Beneath my leaves, though early fallen and faded, Young plants are warm'd,-they drink my branches' dew: Let them not, LORD, by me be Upas-shaded; Make me, for their sake, firm, and pure, and true. |