VIRTUE.

F Virtue be thy guide,

IF

True comfort is thy path,

And thou secure from erring fteps,
That lead to vengeance wrath.

Not wideft open door,

Nor spacious ways fhe goes;
To ftraight and narrow gate and way,
She calls, the leads, fhe fhows.

She calls, the fewest come;

She leads the humble spirited; She fhows them reft at race's end,

Soul's reft to heaven invited.

'Tis fhe that offers moft;

'Tis fhe that moft refuse;

'Tis fhe prevents the broad way plagues, Which moft do wilful choose.

Do choose the wide, the broad,
The left-hand way and gate:

These Vice applauds, these Virtue loathes,
And teacheth hers to hate.

Her ways are pleasant ways,
Upon the right-hand fide;
And heavenly happy is that soul
Takes Virtue for her guide.

Robert Southwell. 1562-1569.

WALKING IN LIGHT.

WThat fellowship of love,

ALK in the light!- So fhalt thou know

His Spirit only can bestow,

Who reigns in light above!

Walk in the light! And fin, abhorred,

Shall ne'er defile again;

The blood of Jesus Christ our Lord
Shall cleanse from every stain !

Walk in the light! And thou shalt find
Thy heart made truly His,

Who dwells in cloudlefs light enshrined,
In whom no darkness is!

Walk in the light! And thou fhalt own

Thy darkness paffed away,

Because that light hath on thee fhone,
In which is perfect day!

Walk in the light! - And even the tomb
No fearful fhade fhall wear;

Glory fhall chase away its gloom,
For Chrift hath conquered there!

Walk in the light! And thou shalt see
A path, though thorny, bright;

For God, by grace, fhall dwell in thee,
And God Himself is light!

Barton.

VEIL

EIL, Lord, mine eyes till fhe be past,
When Folly tempts my fight;

Keep Thou my palate and my taste
From gluttonous delight.

Stop Thou mine ear from syrens' songs,
My tongue from lies restrain;
Withhold my hands from doing wrongs,

My feet from courses vain:

Teach, likewise, ev'ry other sense

To act an honest part,

But chiefly settle innocence
And pureness in my heart:
So nought without me or within,
Shall work an ill effect,

By tempting me to act a fin,

Or virtues to neglect.

George Wither. 1588-1667.

FAME.

THAT fhall I do left life in filence pafs?

WHA if

And if it do,

And never prompt the bray of noisy brafs,
What need'ft thou rue?

Remember, aye the Ocean deeps are mute;
The fhallows roar;

Worth is the Ocean Fame is but the bruit
Along the fhore.

What shall I do to be forever known?

Thy duty ever.

This did full many who yet flept unknown, —

Oh! never, never!

Think'st thou perchance, that they remain unknown Whom thou know'ft not?

By angel-trumps in heaven their praise is blown,— Divine their lot.

What shall I do to gain eternal life?

Discharge aright

The fimple dues with which each day is rife?
Yea, with thy might.

Ere perfect scheme of action thou devise
Will life be fled,

While he, who ever acts as conscience cries,

Shall live, though dead.

From Schiller.

HIDDEN GROWTH.

EAR, secret greennefs! nurft below
Tempefts and windes and winter-nights!

Vex not, that but One sees thee grow;
That One made all these leffer lights.

What needs a conscience calm and bright
Within itself, an outward teft?
Who breaks his glafs to take more light,
Makes way for ftorms into his reft.

Then blefs thy secret growth, nor catch
At noise, but thrive unseen and dumb;
Keep clean, bear fruit, earn life, and watch
Till the white-winged reapers come!

Vaughan.