The swoln flood's sullen roar, the storms that go
With crash, and howl, and horrid voice of woe,
Making swift passage for their lawless will
All prophesy of good. The hungry trill
Of the lone birdie, cowering close below
The dripping eaves it hath a kindly feeling, And cheers the life that lives for milder hours. Why, then, since Nature still is busy healing, And Time, the master, his own work concealing, Decks every grave with verdure and with flowers, Why should Despair oppress immortal powers?
How much thy Holy Name hath been misused,
Beginner of all good, all-mighty Faith!
Some men thy blesséd symbols have abused,
Making them badge or secret Shibboleth
For greed accepted, or for spite refused,
Or just endured for fear of pain or death.
To some, by fearful conscience self-accused,
Thou com'st a goblin self, a hideous wraith.
With such as these thou art an inward strife,
A shame, a misery, and a death in life,
A self-asserting, self-disputing lie;
A thing to unbelief so near allied,
That it would gladly be a suicide,
And only lives because it dare not die.
BELIEVE and pray. Who can believe and pray
Shall never fail nor falter, though the fate
Of his abode, or geniture, or date,
With charms beguile, or threats obstruct his way.
For free is Faith, and potent to obey,
And Love, content in patient prayer to wait,
Like the poor cripple at the Beautiful Gate,
Shall be relieved on some miraculous day.
Lord, I believe ! - Lord, help mine unbelief!
If I could pray, I know that Thou would'st hear;
Well were it though my faith were only grief,
And I could pray but with a contrite tear.
But none can pray whose wish is not Thy will,
And none believe who are not with Thee still.
SHE sat and wept beside His feet; the weight
Of sin oppressed her heart; for all the blame,
And the poor malice of the worldly shame,
To her was past, extinct, and out of date.
Only the sin remained the leprous state:
She would be melted by the heat of love,
By fires far fiercer than are blown to prove
And purge the silver ore adulterate.
She sat and wept, and with her untressed hair
Still wiped the feet she was so blest to touch;
And He wiped off the soiling of despair
From her sweet soul, because she loved so much.
I am a sinner, full of doubts and fears,
Make me a humble thing of love and tears.
REPENTANCE BEFORE FORGIVENESS.*
IF I have sinned in act, I may repent;
If I have erred in thought, I may disclaim
My silent error, and yet feel no shame;
But if my soul, big with an ill intent,
Guilty in will, by fate be innocent,
Or being bad, yet murmurs at the curse
And incapacity of being worse,
Making my hungry passion still keep Lent
In keen expectance of a Carnival,-
Where, in all worlds that round the Sun revolve
And shed their influence on this passive ball,
Abides a power that can my soul absolve?
Could any sin survive, and be forgiven,
One sinful wish would make a hell of heaven.
May one be pardoned, and retain the offence?".
SENSE, IF YOU CAN FIND IT.
LIKE one pale, flitting, lonely gleam
Of sunshine on a winter's day,
There came a thought upon my dream,
I know not whence, but fondly deem
It came from far away.
Those sweet, sweet snatches of delight
That visit our bedarkened clay,
Like passage birds, with hasty flight
It cannot be they perish quite,
Although they pass away.
They come and go, and come again;
They're ours, whatever time they stay: Think not, my heart, they come in vain, If one brief while they soothe thy pain Before they pass away.
But whither go they? No one knows but yet they seem to say,
That far beyond this gulf of woes,
There is a region of repose
For them that pass away.
O WEDDING-GUEST! this soul hath been
Alone on a wide, wide sea:
So lonely 'twas, that God himself
Scarce seeméd there to be.
O sweeter than the marriage-feast,
'Tis sweeter far to me,
To walk together to the kirk
With a goodly company!
To walk together to the kirk,
And all together pray;
While each to his great Father bends,
Old men, and babes, and loving friends, And youths and maidens gay!
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