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Cornell University Library 
 PR 4529.D85I7 
 
 Iscah; or, Jephthah's vow, a poem in six 
 
 3 1924 013 470 400 
 
Cornell University 
 Library 
 
 The original of this book is in 
 the Cornell University Library. 
 
 There are no known copyright restrictions in 
 the United States on the use of the text. 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924013470400 
 
ISO AH; 
 
 JEPHTHAH'S VOW. 
 
 % %otm 
 
 IN SIX CANTOS. 
 
 BY ISABELLA DE PATOK 
 
 . LONDON :• 
 BINNS & GOODWIN, 123, CHANCERY LANE. 
 
TO 
 
 HIM 
 
 WHO HATH CALLED US FROM DEATH UNTO LIFE ; 
 
 WHO, BY HIS OWN BLOOD, HATH RANSOMED US FROM 
 
 THE POWER OF THE GRAVE ; 
 
 TO 
 
 THE MAN OF SORROWS, 
 
 WHO COMFORTS THOSE THAT MOURN, 
 
 THESE PAGES ARE DEDICATED, 
 
 PRATING THAT HE WILL MAKE THEM 
 
 BREATHE SOME STRAIN OF HEAVEN'S OWN MUSIC 
 
 INTO THE WEARY SPIRITS OF SOME OF 
 
 HIS SUFFERING ONES ; 
 
 AND THAT THEY MAY BE THE MEANS OF GATHERING 
 
 PRECIOUS GEMS FROM HIS KINGLY CROWN. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 Jefhthah's daughter has long appeared to me the purest 
 
 and most exalted example of female excellence recorded in 
 
 Holy Writ. Would that her spirit of lofty heroism and 
 
 meek submission to Jehovah's will were possessed by more 
 
 of Eve's daughters. Would that, amidst earth's heartrend- 
 
 ings, more knew 
 
 " How sublime a thing it is 
 To suffer and" be strong." 
 
 May He, whose are all our efforts to do good, accept 
 
 these pages written in His name, and may all His children 
 
 whose eye may trace these lines, breathe forth a petition 
 
 for their Author, that after she " have preached to others, 
 
 she may not herself become a castaway." 
 
 Isabella. 
 March, 1866. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 Page 
 ISCAH; OB, jephthah's VOW: 
 
 CANTO THE FIRST - - 1 
 
 CANTO THE SECOND - 13 
 
 CANTO THE THIRD - 27 
 
 CANTO THE FOURTH 39 
 
 CANTO THE FIFTH - - 51 
 
 CANTO THE SIXTH - - - 63 
 
 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS : — 
 
 ON THE MARRIAGE OF THE PRINCESS ROYAL - 77 
 
 PRUSSIAN ADDRESS TO PRINCE FREDERIC - 78 
 
 THE PRINCESS ROTAL - 79 
 ON THE ANNIVERSARY OF THE PRINCESS ROYAL'S 
 
 MARRIAGE - 81 
 
 TO BESSIE - 81 
 
 ALONE WITH JESUS - - 82 
 
 TRIBULATION - 83 
 
 SONNET --- - - - 85 
 
 "JESUS WEPT''- - - - 85 
 
 ON HER MAJESTY'S VISIT TO THE PRINCESS ROYAL 86 
 
 HEAVEN - 87 
 
 "ABIDE WITH US" - - 88 
 
 "THE LORD'S ARM IS NOT SHORTENED THAT IT 
 
 CANNOT SAVE" ... - 89 
 
 DARKNESS ... 90 
 
 HEAVEN - - - - 91 
 ON THE BIRTH OF THE PRINCESS VICTORIA OF 
 
 PRUSSIA - - - 92 
 
 SUNSHINE - 94 
 
 ON THE DEPARTURE OF PRINCE ALFRED ON A 
 
 VOYAGE ROUND THE WORLD - - 95 
 
 EPHRAIM .... 96 
 
 CLOUDS - - 98 
 
 ON THE DEATH OF SIR HENRY HAVELOCK - 99 
 
Vlll CONTENTS. 
 
 Page 
 
 EBENEZER - 100 
 
 THE LITTLE ROSEBUD ----- 101 
 
 ITALY 102 
 
 ON THE DEATH OF A SABBATH-SCHOOL 
 
 TEACHER WHO PASSED AWAY IN SLEEP - - 103 
 
 THE MISSIONARY'S WISH - 106 
 
 THE PENITENT 107 
 ON THE DEPARTURE OP THE MISSIONARY SHIP 
 
 "JOHN WILLIAMS " 108 
 
 SABBATH-SCHOOL ANNIVERSARY HYMN - 110 
 
 ON THE DEATH OP AN INFANT 111 
 
 EPAPHRODITUS - 113 
 
 TO A CHRISTIAN IN ADVERSITY - 116 
 
 "FEAR NOT, FOR I AM WITH THEE " 120 
 
 TO A WIDOWED MOTHER - 121 
 
 "LOOK UNTO ME, AND BE YE SAVED" 123 
 
 TO A YOUNG LADY ON HER MARRIAGE 126 
 ON THE DEATH OF A YOUNG LADY SOON AFTER 
 
 HER SISTER'S MARRIAGE 128 
 
 "it is i" - - 132 
 
 SONNET - 133 
 
 THOU CALL'DST ME THINE 134 
 
 TO THE MOTHER OF A PRODIGAL - 137 
 ON SEEING A BEAUTIFUL INFANT IN HER MOTHER'S 
 
 ARMS - - 142 
 
 TO A DYING YOUTH 146 
 
 SONNET - - 148 
 
 "THERE THE WICKED CEASE FROM TROUBLING" 149 
 
 THE WANDERER - 151 
 TO A YOUNG LADY ON HER DEPARTURE TO 
 
 AMERICA - - 153 
 " WHERE YOUR TREASURE IS, THERE WILL YOUR 
 
 HEART BE ALSO " 155 
 
 " COME" - ] 59 
 
 PARAPHRASE OF A SERMON - jgQ 
 
 ON THE DEATH OF A SWEET SINGER OF ISRAEL 165 
 
 THE DYING BELIEVER - . . jgy 
 LINES SUNG BY SABBATH-SCHOOL CHILDREN TO 
 
 THEIR SUPERINTENDENT ]gg 
 
 ON THE FLOOD AT SHEFFIELD ]7q 
 
 HE COMETH jyg 
 
ISCAH; 
 
 OR, 
 
 JEPHTHAH'S VOW. 
 
 " Though we gaze not now on the lovely face 
 
 That felt for us the thorn, 
 Though afar from home we pilgrims roam, 
 
 And our feet with toil are worn ; 
 Though we never have press'd that pierced hand, 
 
 It is stretch'd our lives above, 
 And we own His care in grateful prayer, 
 
 ' Whom, not having seen, we love !' 
 And still as we climb the hills of time, 
 
 And the lamps of earth grow dim, 
 "We are hastening on from faith to sight, 
 
 We are pressing near to Him ; 
 And away from the idols of earthly mould, 
 
 Enraptured we gaze above, 
 And long to be where His arms enfold, 
 
 ' Whom, not having seen, we love.' " 
 
 "Christian World." 
 
CANTO THE FIRST. 
 
 KINDRED SPIRITS. FOREBODINGS. 
 
 O happy, happy land, in thee 
 Shines the unveil'd Divinity, 
 Shedding o'er each adorning breast 
 A holy calm, a heavenly rest. 
 O when will heaven unfold to me ? 
 O when shall I its glories Bee, 
 And my faint, weary spirit stand 
 Within that happy, happy land ? 
 
 Mes. Southbt. 
 
The shadows of the night had pass'd away, 
 
 The first dim twilight struggled into day ; 
 
 Joyously rippled on the dancing rill, 
 
 As o'er prophetic Carmel's far-off hill, 
 
 The rising sun appear'd with ruby glow, 
 
 And lighted up the smiling plains below. 
 
 Pure crystal streams, with many a bright cascade, 
 
 Flow'd gaily onward through each flow'ry glade ; 
 
 Springing o'er pebble round and mossy stone, 
 
 Which here and there green flags had overgrown ; 
 
 The pearly dewdrops glitter'd on the trees, 
 
 Which shook their branches in th' auroral breeze ; 
 
 The distant grain, in richly- waving ranks, 
 
 Border'd, with golden shade, the river banks ; 
 
 The kine, uprising from their grassy bed, 
 
 With lowkig soft, upon the herbage fed, 
 
 And then, descending to the water's brink, 
 
 Bow'd their meek heads, the cooling draught to 
 
 drink : 
 The early songsters plung'd beneath the wave, 
 Their ruffled plumes and tiny limbs to lave, 
 
Z ISCAH ; 
 
 Then rising upwards with a joyful song, 
 
 To gather food for downy nestlings throng. 
 
 The sweet scent-laden zephyr softly blows 
 
 Yon where the cedar tall its shadow throws ; 
 
 And heaven-like music whispers through the glade, 
 
 Where lofty pines and cypress cast their shade, 
 
 As though Eolian harp were there entwin'd, 
 
 Touch' d by the spirit-fingers of the wind ; 
 
 While every cavern, every grotto round, 
 
 Flung softly back the low melodious sound. 
 
 So brightly oped the eyelids of the morn 
 
 On loveliest scenes that could this earth adorn, 
 
 "W hen Iscah lightly trod the swarded way, 
 
 To where the flocks of sheep reposing lay. 
 
 Fairest of Israel's daughters, all most fair, 
 
 None could with Iscah's loveliness compare. 
 
 Dark, deep, and soulful was her flashing eye, 
 
 Telling of noble thoughts aspiring high, 
 
 Kindling with burning fire at deeds of ill, 
 
 Full of a woman's firm and desp'rate will ; 
 
 Soft'ning with gen'rous pity's melting grief, 
 
 At tales of woe, when suflPrers sought relief. 
 
 Her pure and lofty brow of high-ton'd thought, 
 
 Told of a soul for noble actions wrought ; 
 
 While round her lips the sweet bright smile that 
 
 play'd, 
 Her loving heart and spirit's joy display'd. 
 
oe, jephthah's tow. :j 
 
 Proud was her step, a maiden's conscious pride, 
 
 In spotless purity that wrong defied ; 
 
 Graceful in majesty, her stately mien, 
 
 Her presence that of some unrivall'd queen. 
 
 Such Jepthah's daughter, he the warrior bold, 
 
 Who did so wond'rous deeds in days of old ; 
 
 His only child, his darling and his pride, 
 
 To whose first whisper'd wish he nought denied. 
 
 Stern was his glance, except at Iscah's smile, 
 
 And only she could one from him beguile. 
 
 Long years had pass'd since one, his youth's fond 
 
 wife, 
 Had in his clasping arms sigh'd out her life ; 
 And since that hour, his heart so deeply riven, 
 Was bound up only in his child and heaven, 
 Intent to serve the Lord, his fathers' God, 
 And tread the sacred way those fathers trod. 
 With vict'ries gain'd, and battles bravely fought, 
 Jephthah the hero' a laurel wreath had bought : 
 And now, on many a foeman's vanquished land, 
 He stood, the captain of that conq'ring band. 
 The nations round had heard Jehovah's fame, 
 And trembled at His honour"d servant's name ; 
 For well they knew that Israel's mighty Lord, 
 Had given success unto his people's sword. 
 They too had heard how, in the wilderness, 
 That nation's God was nigh, their arms to bless : 
 How Pharaoh's horsemen in the sea were drown'd 
 When from His lofty throne Jehovah frown'd ; 
 And at the rolling of th' Almighty's car, 
 He scatter'd those who were expert in war ; 
 
4 ISCAH ; 
 
 And how the pillar'd mist and fiery cloud 
 
 Had down the serried ranks of aliens plough'd. 
 
 They knew the thunder of that mighty voice, 
 
 At which they trembled, made his own rejoice ; 
 
 And so, at Jephthah's arms, the heathens fled, 
 
 And only left their dying and their dead. 
 
 Before he fought, he ever would repair 
 
 To God's own mercy-seat, to bow in prayer. 
 
 He had not then a Saviour's name to plead, 
 
 But faith look'd onwards to the Promis'd Seed ; 
 
 While in the shadowy types and forms he saw 
 
 The coming of a new and better law. 
 
 He could not see the spotless Lamb of God, 
 
 But view"d with holy trust the flowing blood, 
 
 When meaner victims pourM their life to show 
 
 What glorious Gift Jehovah would bestow. 
 
 By pray'r the warrior BVd, by pray'r he fought, 
 
 And Iscah's lofty soul the spirit caught ; 
 
 And when her honour'd sire went forth to fight, 
 
 For God for Iscah, for his nation's right, 
 
 His arm was nerved to give the deadly blow, 
 
 ADd prostrate lay the dark, vindictive foe, 
 
 When o'er his mind the cheering thought would come 
 
 That Iscah pray'd for his success at home. 
 
 And oft to hail her father's glad return, 
 
 She would the solemn hymn of triumph learn ; 
 
 Then stately sweep the chords of well-strung lyre, 
 
 And chant her poet- words of spirit-fire. 
 
 But on this morn of cloudless, rosy light, 
 Chasing the fitful shadows of the night, 
 
oe, jephthah's tow. £ 
 
 Alone, in peaceful calm, fair Iseah stroll'd, 
 To where her father's sheep reposed in fold. 
 Slowly and pensively she wander'd on, 
 Musing with holy thoughts of ages gone. 
 Then looking at the beauteous earth she trod, 
 Pelt, with thrill'd joy, the presence of her God. 
 Her dark eyes gleam'd with rays of heav'nly love, 
 And then she raised them to the blue above, 
 While through the foliage of the trees so fair, 
 Flash' d the rich light upon her raven hair. 
 
 But now not quite alone, the maiden stray'd, 
 Another form than hers was in the glade ; 
 Young Abdiel knew the path she ever took, 
 And follow'd to the fold beside the brook ; 
 Then, ere by word his presence he betray'd, 
 Paused, in rapt silence, to admire the maid. 
 Like Iscah's were the lineaments of his face, 
 She proud in maiden, he in manly grace. 
 Dark, curling locks o'erhung th' expansive brow, 
 That show'd the soul unused for man to bow : 
 Firmness is on his lip, all cold and stern, 
 But soul-fires, in his eyes deep flashing burn ; 
 And many, who admired his stately grace, 
 Shrank from the haughty sternness of his face. 
 But Iscah never fear'd that kindling eye, 
 For every smile of hers brought quick reply. 
 His parents long ago had died in faith, 
 And both had, with their last expiring breath, 
 Committed him to Jephthah's fostering care, 
 For he was cousin to that maid so fair. 
 
6 ISCAH ; 
 
 In childhood's years, her brother he had seem'd, 
 But older grown, of deeper love had dream'd ; 
 And yet he had conceal!d, at least in part, 
 The softer feelings of his noble heart. 
 So, half unconscious of the love he bore, 
 Iscah but daily clung to him the more ; 
 And ev'ry thought, each feeling she could tell 
 To him who understood them all so well. 
 Abdiel had bravely fought at Jephthah's side, 
 Had scatter'd.to the wind the heathen's pride ; 
 But oft, on days of peace, beside the sheep, 
 He loved, with Iscah, noontide watch to keep, 
 Such was the high-bred youth whom we have seen 
 Wand'ring amid the trees and meadows green, 
 
 He stood a moment silent, ere he spoke 
 
 Then with her name the calm, sweet quiet broke. 
 
 In tones of richest music, full and clear, 
 
 Fell the loved voice \ipon the maiden's ear. 
 
 Her dark eyes lighted, as with sudden start, 
 
 Her slender form relax'd its stately port. 
 
 Half smile, half blush, play'd on her lip and cheek 
 
 And told the welcome that she could not speak. 
 
 Awhile in silence, side by side they stood ; — 
 
 That silence rapt, when mem'ry pours her flood, 
 
 "When near, the loved one of our heart we see, 
 
 And feel 'tis even happiness to he, 
 
 And when, protected by the shelt'ring arm, 
 
 "We trust that shield, and fear no earthly harm, 
 
OB, jephthah's tow. 
 
 That pause of eloquence, when each can tell 
 What feelings in the other's bosom swell : 
 When hearts throb sympathising, side by side, 
 And silent thoughts in one soft channel glide. 
 At length the silence Iscah gently broke, 
 And calmly to the list'ning Abdiel spoke. — 
 " Abdiel, when often here I watch alone, 
 I think how swiftly early years have flown, 
 And feel assured that many will not come, 
 Before I rest within my Father's home. 
 Yet comes the thought in no severe array, 
 But calm as eventide of summer's day, 
 As if the Angel of the Cov'nant near, 
 Were whisp'ring softly to my list'ning ear, 
 Telling me that my covenant is writ 
 Where times and things no longer changing flit ; 
 As if the tones which oft in thunders roll, 
 Echoed in gentlest music to my soul. 
 No reason for th 1 impression can I see, — 
 It surely is Jehovah's voice to me, 
 Bidding me rise from earth and soar afar ; 
 Beyond the radiance of the morning star ; 
 Calling my soul to fix its highest thought 
 On the salvation God for man has wrought. 
 My faith looks onwards to the Holy One, 
 Who will for every sin-dyed stain atone ! " 
 
 " But canst thou leave me, Iscah ? " Abdiel cried ; 
 " Ganst thou depart, in youth's full, joyous tide, 
 And leave sweet life, and love to pass alone 
 Into th' eternal infinite, the dread' unknown ? 
 
8 ISCAH ; 
 
 O, surely the Eterne will spare thee here, 
 With smiles of love to charm full many a year. 
 My guardian angel, sister of my soul ! 
 Of life and happiness my spirit's whole ! 
 Think not of death, my Iseah ; speak of life 
 For how can I endure alone, earth's strife ? 
 Soul-clouds, through rang'd in mountains tow'ring 
 
 pile, 
 All vanish, Iscah, at thy gentle smile. 
 Deprived of thee, dear sister of my youth, 
 Where could I look for purity or truth ? 
 Our nation's glory, thou ; our nation's pride ; 
 Fair, blooming flower, at mighty Jephthah's side ! 
 Leave me not, Iscah ! I would wildly pray, 
 That God remove not thee my light, away. 
 How would thy father's frosted temples bow, 
 If death should set his seal upon thy brow ! 
 How could he live, all grief-crush'd and forlorn, 
 Existing only Iscah's loss to mourn ! 
 And fear'st thou not the chilling hand of Death, 
 Freezing thy heart's warm blood, thy vital breath ? 
 Fearest thou not the dim obscurity 
 Which o'er the portals of the grave doth lie ? 
 Jehovah ! Mighty Essence, Sovereign Lord ! 
 E'en here, in dreadful awe, by us adored ! 
 And yon, beyond the shrouding veil of time, 
 Wrapp'd in the robes of mystery sublime ; 
 Where clouds and darkness roll around His throne 
 Where speaks His solemn voice in thunder's tone. 
 0, speak ! canst thou so awful mystery dare, 
 And calmly pass away from earth so fair ? 
 
OE, jephthah's tow. 9 
 
 He clasped her yielding hand within his own, 
 As if his power could keep God's precious loan. 
 She paus'd ; her cheeks were ting'd with roseate 
 
 hue, 
 Her eyes suffus'd with drops of crystal dew. 
 Then in more falt'ring accents low, she said,' 
 " Sometimes the misty, future scene, I dread. 
 But seldom so, for God is happiness, 
 And if, on earth, so provident to bless, 
 0, surely, in His own unchanging home, 
 No shade of aught but bliss can ever come, 
 I pant for God ; with Him alone is peace ; 
 There must all-harrowing care and sorrow cease. 
 There shall I dwell in light of noontide clear, 
 With all whom here my spirit holds so dear. 
 But now, amid fierce warfare's crimson tide, 
 When death and danger on each zephyr ride, 
 I dread to lose you, fear my noble sire 
 In heathen town, may find a funeral pyre. 
 Death for myself alone, I'd calmly dare, 
 For Israel's daughters, all can brave with prayer. 
 And if my life could buy this promis'd land, 
 Gladly, to God, a sacrifice I'd stand. 
 But O, to think that you may fall alone, 
 On battle-field with bleeding corpses strown, 
 Or wounded, be the dark-brow'd alien's slave ; 
 Worse fate, by far, than warrior's blood-lined grave 
 The piercing thought my quiv'ring soul deep rends, 
 Back, freezing to my heart, the life-tide sends ; 
 And while you fight the battles of the Lord, 
 Andin Jehovah's name use shield and sword, 
 
10 ISCAH ; 
 
 I, agoniziiig, cry to Him for aid, 
 
 That through His pow'r the threat'ning harm be 
 
 stay'd ; 
 Then weep that I so sinful ere should he, 
 As to withhold from God my sire and thee. 
 I long for rest, where, all these struggles o'er, 
 I from my loved shall separate no more ; 
 But with them rising earthly storms above, 
 Be wrappad in God's infinitude of love. 
 There, in a world of purity unstain'd, 
 By sin and sorrow's presence ne'er profan'd, 
 There with the lov'd Jehovah I adore, 
 My soul shall rest, and grieve Him never more, 
 No fear shall agitate this fragile frame 
 Nor dim devotion's heaven-enkindl'd flame. 
 He gently calls me home, I soon must go ; 
 'Tis not for me to make my rest below. 
 'Tis life beyond, though dark it is to die, 
 Nor can I break earth's bonds without a sigh. 
 Thy life is precious, Abdiel ; my faint spark, 
 Expiring soon, scarce leaves the earth more dark. 
 Thine is the battle-field, 'tis mine to pray ; 
 Thine is the conq'ring, mine the pleading way. 
 Jehovah yet hath glorious need of thee ; 
 But little longer He requireth me. 
 Thine is the full, bright blaze of sun at noon, 
 All hearts to gladden with its liv'ning boon, 
 Gleaming with heav'nly rays, celestial fire, 
 Kindled from God's own everlasting pyre. 
 If set thy sun, say, who from south to north, 
 Could aid when Jephthah led his armies forth ? 
 
oe, jephthah's tow. 11 
 
 Of all the sons of princely Israel, 
 Who, as thou, Abdiel, can command so well ? 
 Mine is the glimmer of the ev'ning star, 
 Fading away, unnoticed from afar, 
 Save by the loving hearts who seek its light, 
 To murmur softly but a last " Good night." 
 That star of eve, whose calm, pale brilliancy 
 Attracts no multitude's admiring eye : 
 But with a light reflected from above, 
 Shines down to soothe the tearfulness of love. 
 But do I grieve thee, Abdiel ? Then no more : 
 Up from things earthly let our spirits soar, 
 Leaving them all to His Almighty care, 
 Who will for each event our souls prepare ! " 
 
 A shudder pass'd through Abdiel's manly frame, 
 
 As to his mind the thought unbidden came, 
 
 That Iscah's loftiness of love subhme 
 
 Was far too pure to rest in things of time 
 
 Eternity alone could satisfy 
 
 The heart too bound by sweet affection's tie, 
 
 Alive so keenly to each passing grief, 
 
 In deathless bliss alone could find relief. 
 
 He looked upon her slender, drooping form, 
 
 So little suited for life's mighty storm. 
 
 He saw from out those bright and humid eyes 
 
 Flash the high soul that weakness could despise ; 
 
 The mind so nobly firm, so fit to rule, 
 
 The heart too tender, for affliction's school. 
 
12 ISCAH. 
 
 And on her brow, with rapture, yet heart-riv'n, 
 He read the spotless purity of heav'n. 
 For ah, he shrank from seeing her depart, — 
 That precious one, the cherish'd of his heart : 
 And as these thoughts like troubled grief-waves 
 
 swell'd 
 Press'd to his lips the trembling hand he held. 
 
CANTO THE SECOND. 
 
 WANDEBES'G. THE EOKEST SCENE. 
 
 " Much, beautiful, and excellent, and fair, 
 
 Was seen beneath the sun ;■ but nought was seen 
 
 More beautiful, or excellent, or fair, 
 
 Than face of faithful friend ; fairest when seen 
 
 In darkest day : and many sounds were sweet, 
 
 Most ravishing and pleasant to the ear ; 
 
 But swaeter none than voice of faithful friend ; 
 
 Sweet always : sweetest heard in loudest storm. 
 
 Pollok. 
 
15 
 
 Eve'came, with soften'd rays and purple vest, 
 
 With curtain'd light, to fold the world to rest ; 
 
 More sweetly fragrant blew the gentle breeze, 
 
 More faint its whispers in the forest-trees. 
 
 The feather'd tribes took earth's last good-night peep, 
 
 Then lowly warbled till they fell asleep ; 
 
 While eve's sweet charm, the witching nightingale, 
 
 Floated her music down the silent vale ; 
 
 The sun, majestic, to the glowing west 
 
 Sank, in his iris robes of grandeur dress'd ; 
 
 While fleecy clouds above seem'd to the view, 
 
 Heaven's gates uprais'd, to let the glory through ; 
 
 And up beyond those battlements of pearl, 
 
 Fancy might see Heaven's royal flag unfurl, 
 
 'Mid ruby turrets, or 'mid em'rald domes, 
 
 Or glitt'ring flash of flying angels' plumes. 
 
 O setting snn, on whose descending flame 
 
 Uriel to earth in anxious warning came, — 
 
 Fit emblem of the One who veil'd in clay 
 
 The brighter blaze of His meridian day, 
 
16 ISCAH; 
 
 Sank from the viewless glories of His throne, 
 To mellow radiance, all till then unknown ; 
 Paus'd, for a while, to show Heav'n's softer ra ys 
 To feehle man's slow, half-bewilder'd gaze ; 
 Oft as I see thee, glorious setting sun, 
 Let me remember what my God hath done. 
 
 And now, on Judah's meads, the ling'ring light 
 
 Shrank slowly back before the shades of night ; 
 
 And while its rays the distant mountains steep, 
 
 Iscah, alone, has penn'd her father's sheep. 
 
 She much had thought of Abdiel's grief that day, 
 
 When she had spoken of her going away ; 
 
 She knew he lov'd her, knew she lov'd him too, 
 
 But of that love's strong depths she little knew ; 
 
 Thought not that to his pow'r, his lov'd control, 
 
 Sway'd every notion of her inmost soul : 
 
 She did not guess that in each deadly fray, 
 
 Her influence strengthen'd him to win the day ; 
 
 That earnest love of her his being filled, 
 
 And through his raptur'd spirit fondly thrill'd. 
 
 Iscah so loved her God and sought His grace, 
 
 Delighted so His guardian hand to trace, 
 
 As purified her soul with power divine, 
 
 And made her natural graces brighter shine. 
 
 Her elevated range of noble thought 
 
 More and more fully heaven's reflection caught, 
 
 Refin'd her spirit, ruled her every sense, 
 
 And made e'en earth's affections more intense. 
 
 She loved on earth, but for eternity, 
 
 And look'd within the veil by faith's clear eye ; 
 
oe, jephthah's vow. 17 
 
 Long'd for unsullied bliss, untainted life, 
 When sin and grief should never more be rife. 
 Nearer and nearer to her God she drew, 
 Ever more deeply His rich treasures knew ; 
 And when alone, thought less of present time, 
 Than of a future gloriously sublime. 
 
 So, pond'ring at the close of summer's day, 
 She silently pursu'd her homeward way ; 
 Thought of her nation, of its bright career, 
 Gloried that it was one to God so dear ; 
 Thought of her Abdiel, of his manly love, 
 How she could bear from him and earth to move ; 
 So musing, heeding not which way she took, 
 Wander'd far off the path beside the brook, 
 Far from the meadows where the flocks vepos'd, 
 And so till darker shades of ev'ning clos'd ; 
 Then suddenly arousing with a start, 
 Look'd for her home with quickly-beating heart. 
 No trace of human dwelling all around. 
 Strange and unknown to her the lonely ground. 
 She sought once more the quitted path to gain. 
 Examin'd carefully, but all in vain ; 
 Farther and farther from her home she stray 'd, 
 At every hesitating step she made. 
 At length she paus'd, with fear to look around, 
 And listen for a human voice or sound. 
 The deadly silence made her spirit quail ; 
 But soon the wild breeze low began to wail 
 Mournfully sighing, rose the ghostly blast, 
 And weirdly warn'd of horrors coming fast. 
 
 c 
 
IS ISCAH; 
 
 Black grows the sky, keen the night air and chill, 
 And creeping fears tbe lonely maiden fill ; 
 White grew her cold fix'd face, her anxious eye 
 "Was rais'd, in pray'r, towards the dark'ning sky: 
 So long she stood, as though beneath a spell, 
 Longing to view the forms she lov'd so well ; 
 Dreading wild beasts, or heath'ns prowling near ; 
 Quiv'ring in ev'ry nerve with mortal fear. 
 O if her Abdiel could but see her there, 
 "Would he not haste to shield her 'noath his care ? • 
 But hark ! amid the wood, a steed's quick tread, 
 As though on hurried deed of warfare sped, 
 Now pushing through the bushes with a crash, 
 And 'mid the branches gleams bright armour's flash, 
 Iscah drew back within a deeper shade, 
 Waiting till friend or foe appearance made. 
 Quicker and shorter gasp'd her panting breath, 
 As o'er her mind rush'd thoughts of lonely death, 
 Or fearful bondage as the heathen's slave, — 
 More terrible to Iscah than the grave. 
 One clinging, trusting pray'r was breath'd to Heav'n, 
 And to the fainting spirit strength was given. 
 A moment more, and close to where she stood, 
 Two dark-browed horsemen issued from the wood, 
 The moon's pale glimmer, half-obscur'd, shone 
 
 down, 
 And show'd no Israelite of high renown, 
 No friend to save, no brother's hand to guide, 
 But fierce and cruel heathens at her side. 
 She shrank still closer to the cedar's shade, 
 But ah ! the rustling leaves their trust betray'd ! 
 
OE, jephthah's tow. 10 
 
 The nearest horseman, he who seem'd to lead, 
 Turn'd, at the sound, and check'd his fiery steed ; 
 Then saw beneath the fitful moonbeam's light 
 The lovely maid'n, robed in garments white. 
 
 "A prize, a capture ! Some fair Jewish maid, 
 Far from the warriors of her people stray'd ! 
 An easy prize ! " — And springing to the ground, 
 Fain would have thrown his pris'ning arms around. 
 But Iscah saw his gesture, heard the words, 
 And dreading bondage more than e'en their swords, 
 With sudden strength and shriek of agony, 
 Sprang from the tree, resolv'd t' escape or die ; 
 And knowing she was powerfully pursu'd, 
 Plung'd in the thickest darkness of the wood. 
 Heedless of tangled roots, or straggling thorns. 
 Her flying step the rugged pathway spurns ; 
 For rushing close behind, in hot pursuit, 
 Sounded the tramp of fiercely following foot. 
 Long did she struggle through obstructing boughs, 
 With eyes dilated, and fast chilling brows ; 
 But still flew on, although unconscious where, 
 Her parted lips faint gasping words of pray'r ; 
 Her strength was failing, but the spirit still 
 Sway'd to the impulse of her dauntless will. 
 Hope was not yet within her bosom crush'd, 
 And on she through the yielding branches rush'd, 
 But came at length where foliage bloom'd more 
 
 dense, 
 Where the night shadows grew still more intense ; 
 
 c 2 
 
20 ISCAH ; 
 
 And vainly striving still to force her way, 
 
 Stood proudly like a fiery stag at bay. 
 
 'Twas but a moment, and tbe heathen's hand 
 
 Was stretched to circle her with captive's band. 
 
 But strenly flash'd that maiden's eye of pride, 
 
 As scornfully she dash'd bis hand aside ; 
 
 Her lip indignant curl'd with haughty ire, 
 
 As rose that lofty spirit's quenchless fire ; 
 
 And she who just before had wildly fled, 
 
 Rear'd now with queenly state, her beauteous head. 
 
 She felt that woman's fear must not be now, 
 
 And, almost captur'd, scorn'd for grace to bow; 
 
 But with no shielding arm to guard between, 
 
 Stood with the majesty of empire's queen. 
 
 The heathen's hand dropp'd down in aw*d surprise, 
 As if some goddess met his wond'ring eyes ; 
 His darken'd mind, which ne'er had felt before, 
 Respect for woman now could e'en adore ; 
 And by that maiden, shielded but by Heaven, 
 On bended knee, implor'd to be forgiv'n. 
 
 " Fair goddess, pardon my too vent'rous hand, 
 Which now I stay, at thy first mute command ; 
 O deign to bless me, ere thou saj^st depart ! 
 Nor plunge thy vengeful sword within my heart." 
 
 Iscah was struck with horror thus to hear 
 The names of Deity applied to her : 
 
oh, jephthah's tow. 21 
 
 " Silence ! " she cried, " Nor dare blaspheme His 
 
 uame, 
 Whose piercing eye is like devouring flame ! 
 Adore Jehovah, Lord of earth and sea, 
 Nor longer how, idolater, to me ! " 
 " And art thou truly then a Jewish maid ? 
 "Who is thy God, that I should be afraid ? 
 I like thy spirit, maiden, thou art brave, 
 And here I claim thee for my favour'd slave ! " 
 
 " Wretch, leave me ! Dare not lay thy hand on me, 
 But go thy way, — depart ! I will be free ! 
 Withdraw thy hand — 'tis but pollution's touch ! 
 Thou art a heathen, and God loatheth such ! " 
 
 Once more the alien who, in cruel war, 
 Had scatter'd many opposing armies far ; 
 Who, in his wooing cruel as in his hate, 
 Had shadow'd many a lovely damsel's fate, 
 Who fear'd nor man nor God upon His throne, 
 Trembled before this maiden all alone ; 
 And thus with oourt'ous terms respectful tried 
 To gain the Jewish beauty for his bride. 
 
 " Fair maid, thy loveliness and spirit brave 
 Forbid that I should take thee for my slave. 
 I am no vassal chief of low degree, 
 But worthy of thy rank whate'er it be, 
 Come then with me, not for the murd'ring knife, 
 JBut as my lovely bride, my favourite wife. 
 
11 ISCAH ; 
 
 Thy noble mien, thy more than regal eye, 
 Are fit to place thee in some region high. 
 I loTe thee, maiden, and I rev'rence too ; — 
 Respect for womankind, I never knew 
 Until this moment, when thy stately grace 
 Has made me both admire and fear thy face ; 
 Swift I will bear thee to my waiting steed, 
 And guide thee home with lover's watchful heed ! " 
 
 " Nay, leave me, tyrant ; rather take my life ! 
 Think not that I can be a heathen's wife ! 
 Hope not to make me fear thy cruel eye ; 
 I never will be thine, — but 1 can die ! 
 Jehovah helpeth those who trust in Him, 
 And He can save me now, though hope grow dim, 
 O, slay me, — plunge thy sword unto my heart, 
 Or end my life with some quick pois'ning dart ! 
 Know that I loathe thee, and I will not wed — 
 I fain would lay thee at my feet as dead ! " 
 
 " Nay, maiden," said the chief, with chilling sneer, 
 ''I will not slay thee, thou art far too dear ; 
 I mean not thus to to take away thy life, — 
 Whether thou hate or love, thou art my wife. 
 Thy haughty spirit spurneth all in vain, 
 Alike my offer'd love, and captive's chain ! " 
 
 file threw around her form a tightening band ; 
 But ha L some other horseman is at hand 1 
 
on, jephthah's tow. 23 
 
 With shrieks of terror, Iscah called for aid, 
 
 And for her liberty fresh struggles made ; 
 
 When on her ear there fell a welcome voice, 
 
 Whose aecents made her inmost soul rejoice. 
 
 Her hounding heart with rapt'rous hope heat high, 
 
 She call'd again, and found a quick reply, 
 
 Her nation's war-cry sounded in her ear, 
 
 Intones of proud defiance, richly clear ; 
 
 And through the clust'ring bushes dash'd a form 
 
 Which thrill'd her soul, and made her heart beat warm . 
 
 " The God op hosts is with us, our Defence ! 
 Wretch, say, what doest thou ! Go, get thee hence ! " 
 And Abdiel, appearing full in view, 
 Quick drawing rein, his foot from stirrup drew ; 
 Then, ere the alien chief could throw his dart, 
 Plung'd deep a jav'lin in the craven heart. 
 " Take thy deserts, dark wretch," he fiercely cried, 
 " Human interment be to thee denied, 
 Sidee thou hast dared insult a Jewish maid, 
 Whose faithful soul was on Jehovah stay'd ! " 
 He left the heathen, welt'ring in his blood, 
 And turn'd to where his cherish'd Iscah stood. 
 Relief had come so sudden to her side, 
 That Iscah felt with wonder petrified. 
 
 " Fear not, sweet Iseah," Abdiel gently said, 
 " Thy cruel tormentor lies all cold and dead ; 
 Thy watchful God hath sent me to thy aid, 
 To avenge the insults of the lonely maid. 
 
24 I8CAH ; 
 
 Bat say, beloved, why art thou so far 
 
 From home, where all thou fondly lovest are ? " 
 
 Then his protecting arm he threw around 
 The precious one he had so lately found. 
 She yielded to the clasp so gently press'd, 
 And sank her drooping head upon his breast, 
 As if, within the shelter of his arms, 
 She felt secure from all surrounding harms. 
 He stoop'd to view the form he lov'd to hold, 
 But found her gentle face all fixed and cold. 
 " Iscah," he whisper'd, " look up once more ! 
 Thou ne'er wert silent to my call before ; 
 Look up, beloved ; let thy accents give 
 The blest assurance that thou still dost live ? " 
 The little hand, within his tender grasp, 
 Lay motionless, with no responding clasp. 
 In agonizing fear, he gently now 
 Press'd his warm lips upon her icy brow ; 
 When suddenly awaking with a start, 
 She strove from his encircling arms to dart. 
 
 " Iscah," he murmur'd, " do not fly from me ; 
 I sared thee, dearest ; thou art safe and free ? " 
 
 " Is it thou, Abdiel ? Ah, I know it all ! 
 God heard my spirit's last despairing call ! 
 But take me home ! I left, at eventide, 
 The flocks reposing at the river's side ; 
 And musing deeply of each day's event, 
 Walk'd onwards, heeding not which way I went. 
 
oe, jephthah's vow. 25 
 
 But let us hasten home nor longer stay, 
 Lest some still lurking foe obstruct our way." 
 
 The youthful warrior placed her on his steed, 
 And walk'd beside, the fiery horse to lead ; 
 And as they homeward sped their midnight way, 
 Iscah told all the horrors of that day. — 
 " But, Abdiel, tell me how thou earnest there, 
 To save me when redue'd to black despair ? " 
 " At set of sun, that hour of all most sweet, 
 I left my tent, thy homeward steps to greet ; 
 When Jephthah sent a lad to bid me stay, 
 For duty call'd my feet another way. 
 I sought the presence of thy noble sire, 
 To learn at once my reVrenc'd chief's desire. 
 He told me that reports of war had come, 
 That Amnion's race was marching on our home, 
 And that he wish'd to send me as a spy, 
 Around the heathen's distant camp to pry. 
 Soon as nighf s orb had lit her glimm'ring lamp, 
 I started for the foeman's guarded camp. 
 God sped my way, and safe returning back, 
 He guided me to take the forest track. 
 Slowly and silently I rode along, 
 List'ning, in peace, to night's soft echoing song, 
 When thy loVd voice, my Iscah, reach' d my ear, 
 In tones of anguish, and of trembling fear. 
 Quickly I rush'd to meet the thrilling sound, 
 Then stretch'd thy cruel assailant on the ground." 
 
CANTO THE THIED. 
 
 LOVE'S WHISPEBS — THE FOE APPEOACHES. 
 
 " But now, beloved, thy hand in mine, 
 Peacefully, peacefully; 
 My arm around thee, my lips on thine, 
 
 Lovingly, lovingly, — 
 0, is not a better to ns given, 
 Than wearily going alone to heaven ? " 
 
 MacDonald. 
 
29 
 
 Still onward through the forest quickly hied 
 The trusting maid, with Abdiel at her side ; 
 He knew each turning of the winding way ; 
 A nd Iscah, led by him, fear'd not to stray. 
 Sometimes they pass'd through shading trees so 
 
 dense, 
 Eye scarce could penetrate the gloom intense ; 
 Where in the path were limbs of cedars flung, 
 And many a wither'd branch obstructing hung ; 
 And here of Abdiel's utmost care was need, 
 For often wildly plungM the mettled steed, 
 And starting madly, at the bit would strain, 
 But Abdiel's guiding hand was on the rein ; 
 And Iseah's trusting spirit could not fear, 
 While to her own beloved one so near. 
 Sometimes, emerging from the thickest shade, 
 They came upon some lighter, fairer glade, 
 Where through the thinner branches shone 
 The Queen of Night down from her star-lit throne. 
 
30 ISCAH i 
 
 Then d own again through gath'ring gloom they passed, 
 Where the tall cedars fitful shadows cast. 
 And ghostly whispers home on every breeze, 
 Seem'd like lone spirits' mournful minstrelsies, 
 Almost in silence pass'd the pair along, 
 Hearing alone the gentle night-bird's song ; 
 But Iscah's quickly-penetrating eye 
 Saw that the warrior glanced not on the sky, 
 Not on the moon, whose peerless, silver light 
 Stream'd o'er the shaded firmament of night ; 
 Not on the holy stars, which seem'd to trace, 
 The lustrous lines, the great Jehovah's grace ; 
 Note' en onher ; his eye sought not to meet 
 That smile of hers, so calmly, purely sweet ; 
 But glanced around, with ever watchful heed ; 
 While one hand rein'd the proud, impatient steed, 
 Iscah discried the other ever lower'd, 
 And resting on his keen and two-edged sword. 
 Thus had they long pursu'd their silent way, 
 Without or hesitation or delay, 
 When Abdiel paused, then quickly placed the rein 
 In Iscah's hand, which rested on the mane ; 
 Then swift as thought a glitt'ring javelin placed 
 Within the girdle which enzoned her waist ; 
 And then resumed the rein, in silence still, — 
 Strange silence, causing Iscah's frame to thrill. 
 She spoke not, for she guess'd that foes were near, 
 But trusted fondly his protection dear ; 
 And, by his side, she trembled but for him, 
 While gathr'ing tears began her eyes to dim ; 
 
oe, jephthah's tow. 31 
 
 Quickly she check'd the drops that fain would start, 
 And strove to still her palpitating heart ; 
 Then drew the dagger from her girdle's clasp, 
 And held it with a firm and desp'rate grasp. 
 As Abdiel's hand the bridle gently press'd, 
 On hers he let it for an instant rest ; 
 The light, fond touch her fainting soul reviv'd, 
 And needed so, — for peril had arriv'd. 
 
 Deep in the treach'rous forest's fitful shade, 
 Some flick'ring moonbeams, human form betray'd ; 
 And by the warrior's searching vision keen, 
 Stretch'd on the sward, two Amoriteswere seen. 
 They slept, by forest-breezes gently fann'd, — 
 Each with his war-steed's bridle in his hand. 
 " Guide now thyself, beloved," Abdiel said, 
 And once more in her clasp the rein he laid. 
 " Fear not," he whisper'd, eyeing still the foe, — 
 " Fear not, my Iscah ! God will kindness show." 
 
 But Abdiel's horse, unus'd to female hand, 
 Strove to o'erpow'r her resolute command, 
 And plunging strongly, roused each Amorite, 
 Who sprang from slumber, ready for the fight. 
 " The Lord of hosts is with us ! " Abdiel cried, 
 And thus the daring foe's dark pow'r defi'd. 
 Scarce through the woods young Abdiel's war-cry rang, 
 When on him, both the heathens madly sprang ; 
 And as he proudly wrestled with the foe, 
 None might the issue of the contest know. 
 
32 iscah ; 
 
 True, 'twas a mighty struggle, two to one, 
 
 But he had many a deed of valour done ; 
 
 And 'mid the battle, long unharm'd he stood, 
 
 While with each stroke of his, the steel drank blood. 
 
 But Iscah, watching, felt her spirit thrill, 
 
 And while her Abdiel fought, could not be still ; 
 
 So urging on her horse with eager hand, 
 
 Beach'd the still struggling, still unconqur'd band, 
 
 And quickly drawing forth her keen-edged dart, 
 
 Buried it in one wrestling alien's heart ; 
 
 While his companion, faint from many a wound, 
 
 Sank down exhausted on the gore-steep'd ground. 
 
 Scarce had the wretch breath'd out his dyir.g sigh, 
 
 When Abdiel seized the horse which linger'd nigh. 
 
 '' Now, Iscah, brave, undaunted maid," he cried, 
 " My own beloved one, my cherish'd pride ! 
 Now can we far more quickly homeward speed, 
 Since I have caught this heathen warrior's steed." 
 They quickly issued from the gloomy wood, 
 And on the Israelitish border stood. 
 
 " Now, Iscah, thou art safe, my dearest love ! 
 And I wjll tell what thoughts my spirit move ; " 
 Thus Abdiel spoke, in fond and earger tone : — 
 " And, Iscah, are my thoughts to thee unknown? 
 Thou knowest well I love thee, — only thee ; 
 Say, wilt thou yield thy clinging heart to me ? 
 I know thou lovest ; from our childhood's prime, 
 How swiftly passed o'er us the light wing'd time, 
 
ob, jephthah's tow. 33 
 
 When hand in hand we sped o'er hill and dale, 
 
 Then stay'd to rest in some sweet flowery vale ! 
 
 Was it not love which made each hour seem 
 
 Rapturously joyous as a summer dream ? 
 
 With thee, for other friends I never sigh'd, 
 
 But could have yielded up all earth beside. 
 
 And thou with me, sweet Iscah, ever seem'd, 
 
 As though some fragrant sunlight on thee beam'd. 
 
 So blissful look'd thy face, so bright thine eyes, 
 
 While thy voice echoed heavenly melodies. 
 
 I was the sole companion of thy youth, 
 
 Clinging to thee with childhood's simple truth ; 
 
 And when in lovely dawn of maidenhood, 
 
 From other youths thou turn'dst in haughty mood, 
 
 Nor e'er would' st listen to fond lover's tale, 
 
 Whether in hopeful tones, or mournful wail. 
 
 Pure as a spotless lily, proudly pure, 
 
 Presumptuous suitors thou could'st ne'er endure ; 
 
 But, modest as the violet, turn'd aside, 
 
 In solitude thy loveliness to hide. 
 
 No glance of tenderness did'st thou e'er brook, 
 
 But ever wore a cold and queenly look ; 
 
 And some have thought, thy heart so well controll'd, 
 
 Could no warm spark of soft affection hold. 
 
 But not so I ; I knew thy lofty mind, 
 
 Thy loving heart, thy spirit so refined ; 
 
 Fond as a sister thou hast been to me, 
 
 And I a brother ever seem'd to thee ; 
 
 But now, my own, sweet brightener of my life, 
 
 No longer sister, — wilt thou be my wife ? " 
 
34 ISCAH ; 
 
 He paused, and bent on her his pleading eye, 
 But Iscah only answer'd with a sigh. 
 " Speak, dearest Iscah, gift of the Divine ; 
 Let thy own whisper tell me thou art mine ! " 
 
 She raised her head, and said in gentle tone, 
 " Abdiel, I know thou lovest me alone ; 
 But think of what I said the other day, 
 That God might summon me ere long away. 
 Hadst thou not better be my brother still, 
 Nor let a deeper love thy spirit fill ? " 
 
 " No, Iscah ; no ! Through all this earth so wide, 
 
 No other can I ever make my bride. 
 
 God gives us to each other for a while, 
 
 The sadness of earth's lifetime to beguile. 
 
 If Ke removes thee (far be that dark day !) 
 
 Then may I bless the Hand that takes away ; 
 
 But let no mortal's will our love divide, — 
 
 Let naught of earth steal thee from Abdiel's side ! 
 
 In early years, when in the calm of eve, 
 
 Together we the village used to leave, 
 
 And wander forth, thy gentle hand in. mine, 
 
 Then learn' d our youthful hearts in love to twine ; 
 
 Thinkest thou that in vain by bounteous Heaven, 
 
 That sweetest of emotions — love, is given ? 
 
 God has united us in early life ; 
 
 O tell me thou wilt be my own loved wife !" 
 
 He press'd her hand, with lover's pleading air, 
 And her soft blushes bade him not despair ; 
 
OR, jephthah's TOW. 3,) 
 
 She spoke not, but her drooping eyes gleam'd bright 
 And Abdiel read their language with delio-ht. 
 " To-morrow, Iscah, I will seek thy sire, 
 And beg his sanction of my heart's desire." 
 
 " Nay, Abdiel," Iscah whisper'd, — "not so soon, 
 I pray thee grant me this, this trifling boon. — 
 War is at hand, but long it will not last, — 
 Tell not my father till this battle's past ; 
 The Ammonites are marching on our land, 
 Let not earth interrupt my sire's command 
 Of troops that for the great Jehovah fight, 
 Struggling for G-od, and to uphold the right. — 
 Promise me this, dear Abdiel, and I give 
 Up my whole being, but for thee to live.'' 
 
 " What thou dost ask, shall never be denied, 
 Though hard it be to grant," he quick replied : 
 " But, Iscah, now our wanderings are o'er, 
 For we have reach'd thy father's home once more." 
 
 Down from the horse he lifted her with care, 
 And press'd his lips upon her cheek so fair ; 
 Then to his own abode his footsteps bent, 
 While Isdah disappear'd within her tent. 
 Then first she render'd thanks on bended knee, 
 To Him whose gracious love had set her free, 
 When captive's chain, and heathen captor near, 
 Threaten'd to sever her from home so dear. 
 She mused awhile within that silent tent, 
 Upon the day's each unforeseen event ; 
 
 D 2 
 
36 ISCAH ; 
 
 And ere the weary maiden sought repose, 
 
 A whisper'd prayer for him she loved arose, — 
 
 That God would seal the vows which love had 
 
 breathed, 
 And centre in Himself those hearts enwreathed. 
 
 Scarce had the dawning morn's first rosy light 
 
 Streak'd the dim east with faint, soft tinges bright, 
 
 When many a Jewish spy to Jephthah came, 
 
 To bid him fight in their Jehovah's name ; 
 
 For Amnion's camp, already on the stir, 
 
 Seem'd not inclined the struggle to defer ; 
 
 And Israel must arise with spear and sword, 
 
 To fight that day the battles of the Lord. 
 
 The mitred priest, in holy robes array'd, 
 
 Laid his spread hands upon the lamb, and pray'd 
 
 That God would still His chosen people bless, 
 
 And give their arms a glorious success ; 
 
 That as of old, by nations far and wide, 
 
 His lofty name might still be glorified. 
 
 Fair Iscah sought her noble father's side, 
 And signs of thought upon his brow descried ;■ 
 When ere her quivering lips could aught inquire, 
 Abdiel's fond arm withdrew her from her sire. 
 " Iscah," he said, " the tidings come at last, 
 A battle will be fought ere day is past : 
 I go with Jephthah, to oppose the foe, 
 And make those heathens our Jehovah know : 
 This day, dear Iscah, I will strive to be 
 A warrior worthy of thy sire and thee !" 
 
OB, jephthah's tow. 37 
 
 " Abdiel, for God fight thou, and I will pray 
 That His protection shield thee through the day. 
 His will be done ; but Oh I fain would crave, 
 That thou amongst the slain find not a grave." 
 
 " Why pales thy cheek, my Iscah ? God can give, 
 If so He will, long years for me to live ; 
 If not, — thy holy faith can point above, 
 Where we shall meet in undiminished love. 
 But, Iscah, do not fear ; let faith prevail, 
 Jehovah's promises can never fail. 
 Stay thou thy soul on God, and He will bless 
 Thee with all life, and love, and happiness ; — 
 But Jephthah comes to call me for the fight ; 
 Take courage, dearest, nerve thyself aright." 
 
 " God bless thee, Abdiel, — in His name we trust, 
 Let Him do what He willeth with His dust. 
 I know He doeth right, whate'er it be, 
 And I can trust my God with even thee. 
 Father, thy blessing !" — And at Jephthah's feet, 
 The maiden knelt, his loved approach to greet. 
 The veteran warrior on her bended head, 
 Placed then his loving hand, and kindly said : 
 '' The Lord Jehovah, God of earth and sky, 
 Bless thee, my daughter, from his throne on high, 
 Bless with that love which his own bosom fills, 
 Bless thee from heaven's wide everlasting hills. 
 Thy father's blessing rests upon thy head, 
 And bids thee no dark scene in future dread ; 
 
38 ISCAH. 
 
 Tor God, thy God, He whom thy soul doth serve, 
 Will thee in every path of life preserve." 
 He paused, and drew his child upon his breast, 
 "While in still gentler tones the father bless'd' : — 
 "My blessing be on thee, my treasured one, 
 For all the deeds of love which thou hast done, 
 Since that dark hour, when from my guarding side, 
 God took thy mother, my beloved bride." 
 The tears an instant stood within his eye, 
 And then the veteran proudly dash'd them by. 
 Once more on hers, his furrow'd cheek he bent, 
 One fond paternal kiss, — then left the tent. 
 Scarce had his footsteps' echo died away, 
 When Abdiel felt he must no longer stay. 
 " Iscah, why do fears ne'er felt before, 
 Thrill through my soul as winter torrents pour ? 
 A dark foreboding fills my soul with dread, 
 Of some dire chance depending o'er thy head ; 
 But we must trust in God, who reigns above, 
 And I must haste to fight, — farewell, my love ! 
 My own loved Iscah, my aflBanced wife, 
 To God's kind care I can commend thy life." 
 He press'd her to his heart with tender pride, 
 And while a roseate blush her pale cheeks dyed, 
 She coyly gave the boon his fond lip sought, — 
 That parting kiss with so much sadness fraught. 
 Then from his loving arms in tears withdrew, 
 And in the inner tent escaped from view ; 
 While Abdiel, thinking of his promised bride, 
 Pass'd to the camp, with quick, unsteady stride 
 
CANTO THE FOURTH. 
 
 THE BATTLE. — THE TOW. 
 
 ' He turn'd aside and wept, — 
 O do not think him weak ! 
 For dauntless was that soldier's heart, 
 Though tears were on his cheek. 
 
 Go, watch the foremost ranks, 
 
 In danger's dark arrear; 
 3e sure the hand most daring there, 
 
 Has wiped away a tear." 
 
41 
 
 With hasty step, the youthful warrior strode 
 Along the thickly throng' d, unquiet road, 
 Up to the place where noble Jephthah stay'd ; 
 Then to the Chief his low obeisance made, 
 Mounted th' impatient steed which waited near, 
 And silent paused, the marching-word to hear ; 
 One glance he threw to where a snowy tent 
 Grleam'd in the light the morning sunbeams sent ; 
 For ah, those softly rustling folds, he knew, 
 Conceal'd his Iscah from his longing view. 
 Strangely he felt upon that sunlit morn, 
 For to his inmost soul, sad thoughts were borne. 
 The maid he loved, was now his promised wife,— 
 He knew her sire would not divide their life ; 
 He deeply loved, and she his love return'd, 
 And on the altar of their hearts there burn'd 
 A brighter, holier flame — the love of Him, 
 Before whose presence cherubim grow dim. 
 An honour'd leader of the chosen band, 
 Who gladly yielded to his loved command, 
 Second to none, save mighty Jephthah's power, 
 His name untarnish'd, victory's bays his dower ; 
 
42 ISCAH. 
 
 All that could happiness confer, was given, 
 His Iscah's love on earth, his God's in heaven ; 
 And yet a cloud of sadness, cold and grey, 
 Chased all the brightness from his heart away. 
 Ever, till now, with hope of victory flush'd, 
 In joyous haste, he had to battle rush'd, 
 Careless of fear, and scorning e'en to think, 
 Perchance the fight might bear him o'er life's brink ; 
 And in the battle's thickest fight, his plume 
 Was to each foeman's eye a sign of doom. 
 Undaunted by the deadly shower of stones, 
 By death-wing'd darts that flew, or dying groans, 
 His arm was ever foremost in the fight, 
 To crush the foe, and lead his own aright ; 
 And o'er the din of sound that rose on high, 
 Thunder'd the gallant youth his battle-cry. 
 
 And yet, at length, he trembled, though he knew 
 No reason for the mist that dimm'd his view, 
 No cause that tears should fill that stern dark eye, 
 Awe brooding o'er him, while he knew not why. 
 
 O 'twas the whisper of a spirit-tone, 
 Borne from the land to mortal man unknown. 
 Strange ! that the haughty soul, which will not fear, 
 When Ruin stalks abroad, and Death stands near, 
 Can quail so wildly at a whisper-word, 
 But in the soul-depths of his being heard ! 
 While scorning earthly fear with stoic look, 
 Deigning no charge of cowardice to brook 
 
ob, jephtuah's tow. 43 
 
 Down from its courage-mount, our pride is- hmTd, 
 
 At some dim message from the spirit-world ; 
 
 For oft, perchance, we are nearer than we think 
 
 To this material world's mist-shrouded brink. 
 
 O mighty proof that Holy Writ is true ! 
 
 That what He pleases, the Unseen can do ! 
 
 He made his creature lord of all below, 
 
 And bade him here his power as sovereign show ; 
 
 But the grand empire of God's glorious heaven, 
 
 Only to His beloved Son is given. 
 
 Here man can rule, and oft forgets his clay, 
 
 Forgets to whom he must his tribute pay ; 
 
 Nothing he dreads, and nothing fears to meet, 
 
 Till something draws him towards the Almighty's seat; 
 
 Until the veil, which shadows heaven, grows thin, 
 
 And he is bid to look its folds within, 
 
 Then sinking 'neath a weight of solemn awe, 
 
 He feels that there is One who gives him law, 
 
 Feeling no more a king, — a subject now, 
 
 Before the Invisible constrain'd to bow ; 
 
 And while the unbeliever hears, with dread, 
 
 That solemn whisper from creation's Head, 
 
 Jehovah's children know that all is well, 
 
 E'en though the tones of coming sorrow tell ; 
 
 For He has promised by his life above, 
 
 All shall be well with those who seek His love ; 
 
 And 'mid the silent awe which fills the soul, 
 
 God's child submits to His supreme control. 
 
 Thus Abdiel found it, when, in secret prayer, 
 
 He cast upon the Lord his unknown care ; 
 
44 ISCAH ; 
 
 Then, rousing up to things around him, heard 
 Jephthah's command to march for Israel's Lord ; 
 And 'mid the trumpet's sound, which foes defied, 
 He took his station at the leader's side. 
 Then came a pause, and Jephthah's voice was heard, 
 "Which to the Lord His people's prayer preferr'd. 
 And while the Israelites around him stand, 
 Their leader stretches forth to heaven his hand. 
 
 " God of the universe," he cries, " we pray 
 
 That Thou wilt give our arms success this day ; 
 
 God of our father Israel, lend thine aid, 
 
 And be Thy power again in us display'd, 
 
 Give us this land, Thy land of promise bless'd, 
 
 And bid Thy children enter into rest. 
 
 Show us this day Thy wonders, as of old, 
 
 "Which we have heard, as by our fathers told. 
 
 Now let Thy own right arm, Thy outstretched hand, 
 
 Gather the victory for Thy chosen band : 
 
 Send forth Thy lightnings, and discomfit those 
 
 Who dare to call themselves Thy children's foes ! 
 
 Breathe on thy enemies, disperse them far 
 
 As leaves before the whirlwind scatter'd are. 
 
 Look Thou upon them with Thy awful eye, j 
 
 Let them like chaff before Thy presence fly. 
 
 Be with us now, as Thou hast ever been, — 
 
 Be in our midst this day Thy glory seen ; 
 
 And if Thou wilt, O Lord, show forth thy might, 
 
 And grant Thy people victory in this fight. 
 
 "When I in solemn triumph hither come, 
 
 "Whate'er of mine first cometh from my home, 
 
OR, jephthah's tow. 45 
 
 To bid us welcome in Jehovah's name, 
 That shall be thine in sacrificial flame ; 
 A thankful offering for my glad return, 
 Itjshall, devoted, on Thy altar burn. 
 So witness Thou the vow my lips have made, 
 Jehovah ! hear the wish my heart hath pray'd, 
 And be this day the solemn victory mine, 
 So shall the willing sacrifice be Thine. 
 Witness, ye warriors brave, who stand around, 
 Who of my solemn vow have heard the sound ; 
 If God accept, and I neglect to pay, — 
 His vengeance light upon me in that day ! 
 Te hear my vow ; now gird each man his sword, 
 And march, to fight the battles of the Lord ! " 
 
 And as he ceased, a mighty shout arose, 
 The shout of men who long to meet their foes, — 
 " We hear thy vow, thy word we will obey, 
 And proudly rush to war ! — Lead thou the way !" 
 
 And straight the glitt'ringranks, with measured tramp 
 Moved on to seek the distant heathen's camp ; 
 But Jephthah's words had caused a deeper thrill 
 Of sad foreboding, Abdiel's heart to fill. 
 Only a little while had fleetly pass'd, 
 Since his fond looks on Iscah's tent were cast ; 
 Then he had wish'd the coming warfare o'er, 
 That he might see his queenly love once more ; 
 Now while he longed for close of battle-day, 
 He dreaded still the triumph's grand array ; 
 
46 ISCAH ; 
 
 But ever to himself were unconfess'd, 
 
 The vague alarms which fill'd his throbhing breast, 
 
 And yet his haughty spirit would not deign 
 
 To let another's whisper probe his pain ; 
 
 But in a gloomy silence strove to fold 
 
 The thoughts that on his mind had fix'd their hold 
 
 So sternly flash'd his lofty glances now, 
 
 That none might ask why gloom was on his brow 
 
 Though many mark'd it, Jephthah heeded not ; 
 
 He only of the coming victory thought, 
 
 And looked not now upon his heart's fond pride ; 
 
 The prin3ely warrior marching at his side . 
 
 So, long was heard the soldier's steady tread, 
 
 O'er grassy mead, or dried up river's bed ; 
 
 Now passing o'er the verdure soft and green, 
 
 While in the distance Libanus was seen ; 
 
 And over-head the soft, bright sky of blue, 
 
 Seem'd little suited scenes of blood to view. 
 
 So nature smiles o'er all this world of siu, — 
 
 Without is beauty, — wickedness within. 
 
 At length to slacken pace they had begun, 
 
 For hotly poured the rays of noon-day sun ; 
 
 When suddenly arose the stirring cry, — 
 
 •" Prepare to fight ! The foe ; the foe is nigh ! " 
 
 Then the command to halt awhile was given, 
 
 And Jephthah raised again his hands to heaven. 
 
 Again, in prayer, his mighty voice was heard, 
 
 Again his vow presented to the Lord. 
 
 Then was a calm, hush'd pause, and all was still, 
 
 While Israel waited for their Captain's will ; 
 
oe, jephthah's tow. 47 
 
 Then in His name, Who oft for them had striven, 
 The trumpet's stirring blast rose up to heaven ; 
 And as the silver sounds flow'd up the sky, 
 Abdiel rang forth his furious battle-cry ; — 
 " The Lord of hosts is with us ! On the foe ! 
 Crush down their ensigns, lay their warriors low." 
 And while his eyes with kindling fury flash'd, 
 Into the thickest fight he proudly dash'd. 
 At first, by Jephthah's side he bravely fought, 
 While every stroke of theirs the death-cry brought 
 Then as he rush'd where danger most was seen, 
 A crowd of combatants swift press'd between ; 
 And as he fought, and arrows flew around, 
 The dead and dying quickly strew'd the ground ; 
 And moving in the battle's dreadful heat, 
 He crush'd bis foes beneath his charger's feet ; 
 And still amidst the shafts of death unharm'd, 
 As though he bore a life which had been charm'd. 
 Then as they marked his helmet's waving plume, 
 Full many a bow was bent to seal his doom ; 
 But turn'd aside by God's protecting care, 
 The murderous missiles only cleav'd the air ; 
 Or on some other form their vengeful power 
 Wreak'd in the dreadness of that blood-steep'd hour ; 
 While all undaunted, princely Abdiel felt, 
 And still with every blow destruction dealt. 
 
 Long was the struggle, deadly was the fight ; 
 At length the coward heathens took to flight : 
 Then Jephthah's forces, as with strength renew'd, 
 With ardent zeal the flying foe pursued, 
 
48 ISCAH ; 
 
 Till mangled forms were scatter'd o'er the ground, 
 Along the road to Minith's utmost hound ; 
 And where the vines had flourish'd just before, 
 Was now a tangled mass all crimson'd o'er. 
 Nor did they cease to fight with set of sun, 
 For then their conquest was but e'en begun ; 
 Day after day they fought, nor hand was stay'd, 
 Till twenty cities had submission made. 
 
 And so, at last, dark Amnion's race subdued, 
 Jephthah, with joy, his mighty conquest viewM ; 
 Then render'd solemn thanks to God on high, 
 Whose words had caused the enemy to fly. 
 " Now, Lord," he cried, " be Thine the glorious praise, 
 Whose mercy has en wreathed our fleeting days ! 
 Thine is the triumph, Thine shall be this land, 
 For Thou hast won it by Thy own right hand ! 
 Receive the free thanksgivings of each heart, 
 Which Thou hast shielded from the heathens' dart. 
 Now let Thy people to their rest return. 
 And bid us all Thy matchless goodness learn. 
 Thou heard'st my prayer, the laurels crown my brow ; 
 Thou dost accept, I will perform my vow ; 
 And on the altar where Thy glories dwell, 
 There shall the blood of my thank-offering welL 
 Choose Thou the gift, for what first cometh out, 
 To meet and welcome me with joy's glad shout, 
 That will I offer, that shall be Thine own, 
 And Thou shalt smell the savour on Thy throne." 
 
 The repetition of that daring vow 
 Deepen'd the shade on Abdiel's lofty brow ; 
 
oe, jephthah's vow. 49 
 
 A chilling shudder thrill'd his manly frame, 
 As he, in thought, beheld that altar-flame. 
 What would the off'ring be ? He dared not think ; 
 The attempt but made his quiv'ring spirit shrink ! 
 Moodily rode the gloom-wrapp'd youth along, 
 Unheedful of the victors' martial song ; 
 His lips moved not to join the loud refrain, 
 Nor glanced his dark eye from his charger's mane, 
 Till Jephthah, with a look of rapture, said, 
 "Doubtless the news of this our joy has spread, 
 And Iscah will have heard, ere now, that we 
 O'er Ammon s race have gain'd the vict'ry. 
 
 how I long my darling to behold, 
 
 Once more within my arms my child to fold ; 
 To hear my daughter's voice her father greet, 
 In tones, of all on earth, to me most sweet ! 
 And, Abdiel, I can see, I read thy thought, 
 
 1 know thy feelings which thou utterest not ; 
 I know thou longest Iscah's face to see, 
 And hear the welcome she will give to thee. 
 I know the heart which once was mine alone, 
 Thou silently hast claim'd to be thine own. 
 If so, her father's lips shall bless thy love ; 
 To thee I can resign my cherish'd dove. 
 E'er since my guardianship of thee begun, 
 Thou hast been unto me a faithful son ; 
 And since thou lovest Iscah, thou shalt be 
 My favour'd son, in full reality. 
 
 Speak, Abdiel, tell me I have guess'd aright, 
 That Iscah is beloved in thy sight." 
 
50 ISCAH. 
 
 The graceful Abdiel raised his stately head ; 
 " Yes, Jephthah, fain would 1 thy Iscah wed ; 
 Thou guessest rightly, I have loved thy child, 
 The fairest maid that e'er on lover smiled. 
 Give her to me, and I will guard her life, 
 From every sorrow I will shield my wife. 
 Thy words have utter'd but my heart's desire, 
 And gladly I will own thee for my sire. 
 Soon as our home were reach'd, I meant to pray 
 That thou wouldst give thy treasured one away. 
 Just as we left our home, these wars to fight, 
 My suit found favour in fair Iscah's sight ; 
 But she forbade that ere the war were done, 
 I should petition thee to call me son. 
 But now, O noble Jephthah, thanks to thee, 
 For the sweet, priceless gift conferr'd on me ! " 
 
 " Jehovah bless thee, Abdiel," Jephthah cried ; 
 " And give thee happiness at Iscah's side ! 
 But see ! ye soon shall meet, for we are come 
 Nigh to our journey's end — almost at home ! * 
 
 Again a painful thrill pierced Abdiel's soul, 
 And scarce could he preserve his self-control ; 
 He spurr'd his horse to catch the earliest glance 
 Of those who forth to welcome might advance ; 
 When lo, a sound of lyres and soft sweet song 
 Upon the balmy breeze was borne along. 
 
CANTO THE FIFTH. 
 
 THE DOOMED ONE. THE LAMENT. 
 
 " Let us be patient. These severe afflictions 
 Not from the ground arise ; 
 But oftentimes celestial benedictions 
 Assume this dark disguise. 
 
 " We see but dimly through the mists and vapours ; 
 Amid these earthly damps 
 What seem to us but sad funereal tapers, 
 May be Heaven's distant lamps." 
 
 LoNGFELIiOW. 
 
53 
 
 Aia> while the music trembled on the air, 
 
 A band appear'd in view of maidens fair ; 
 
 Advancing forth with steps of graceful state, 
 
 To welcome home the conqueror elate ; 
 
 With harp and tabret, and with viol they came, 
 
 Praising, in joyful hymns, Jehovah's name; 
 
 And as they pass'd beneath the spreading trees, 
 
 All quivering, restless, in the summer breeze, 
 
 Down through the emerald foliage thickly hung, 
 
 Full richly were the golden sunbeams flung, 
 
 And o'er the path the branching shadows danced, 
 
 In changeful beauty, as the band advanced. 
 
 Behind the maids, along that joy-trod road, 
 
 A mingled multitude triumphant flow'd ; 
 
 All pouring forth, their grateful dues to pay 
 
 To him who was the hero of the day. 
 
 And, as they nearer to the army drew, 
 
 Abdiel press'd on to gain a clearer view. 
 
 He sees the maidens in their robes of white, 
 
 He hears their voices with their harps unite ; 
 
 But, ah ! who leads them on ? What form is there ? 
 
 Distinguish'd by its grandly regal air ? 
 
54 iscah ; 
 
 Why flashes Abdiel's eye such gloomy fire ? 
 
 Why lours his brow with such unearthly ire ? 
 
 Why burns that fever-heat upon his cheek, 
 
 His red lips parted, while he does not speak ? 
 
 'Tis she ! 'Tis Iscah ! O'er her snowy brow 
 
 Depends the shadow of that awful vow ; 
 
 And yet she knoweth not, but cometh on, 
 
 Pair as the morning, radiant as the dawn, 
 
 With dance and song to meet the rash-lipp'd sire, 
 
 Whose solemn oath has seal'd her for the fire. 
 
 And as in mortal terror at the view, 
 
 Abdiel, with madden'd rage, the bridle drew, 
 
 Rearing and plunging back'd the frighted steed, 
 
 As from that maniac-grasping to be freed ; 
 
 But Abdiel cared not, — felt nor plunge nor rear, 
 
 He only saw that one of all most dear. 
 
 He only thought upon his promised bride 
 
 "Until his guardian chief had reach'd his side ; 
 
 Then turn'd the soul-wrung warrior with a start, 
 
 His blood receding, curdling to bis heart. 
 
 Then in fierce tones of agony he cried, — 
 
 " Jephthah, look yonder, see my own pledged bride, 
 
 Whom thy rash vow has doom'd to early death, 
 
 So young, so fair, in flames to yield her breath ! 
 
 Has He, the high Jehovah, ask'd thy child, 
 
 Thy spotless Iscah, maiden undefiled ? 
 
 Are therenot flocksand herds thou might' st have giv'n, 
 
 In grateful sacrifice to mighty Heaven ? 
 
 But thou must vow thy daughter's life away ? 
 
 And tho\i hast sworn, and thou, alas! must pay." 
 
 Then throbb'd the father's heart with bitter pain, 
 
 As, in wild grief, he rent his clothes in twain. 
 
ob, stGphthah's tow. 55 
 
 " Alas, my daughter, terrible my woe ! 
 
 For thou, my child, hast brought me very low ! 
 
 Once the fond pride of my beloved home, 
 
 A troubler of my soul thou art become ! 
 
 My vow has wing'd to heaven its upward track, 
 
 Breathed to the Lord, — I cannot call it back. 
 
 O awful vow ! What rending lot is mine ? 
 
 Must blood-drench'dcypress with my laurels twine ! ' ' 
 
 Then spoke the maid, her lips all ashy white, 
 
 But on her brow reflected heavenly light, — 
 
 " My father, if to Israel's mighty Lord, 
 
 Thy mouth have utter'd aught, then keep thy word ; 
 
 Since God, in all His majesty, arose, 
 
 To take, for thee, dire vengeance on thy foes, 
 
 For Him whose ways thou lovest aye to tread, 
 
 My father, do with me as thou hast said." 
 
 She ceased, and trembling, mourning sadly now, 
 Jephthah explained to her that dreadful vow ; 
 And as the harrowing doom of love was told, 
 From lip to lip a sorrowing murmur roll'd. 
 But Iscah's heaven-turn'd spirit fainted not ; 
 For though earth's loved ones could not be forgot, 
 Yet still her deepest thoughts to God were given, 
 Her heart's chief love had long been fix'd on heaven. 
 So forcing back the tears which nature gave, 
 She said, " My father, I would only crave 
 That twice the moon her shining course may run 
 Before that solemn deed by thee is done. 
 
56 ISCAH ; 
 
 God loves the thanks which from the heart arise, 
 
 He willeth not reluctant sacrifice ; 
 
 And suddenly I cannot fully feel 
 
 As willing as I would, my doom to seal. 
 
 So let this little time, I pray, be given, 
 
 To fix my soul with firmer faith on heaven. 
 
 I ask for time to weep a parent's woe, 
 
 To mourn the stroke which brings my father low. 
 
 Then, when my heart is school'd to humble trust, 
 
 That God is doing wisely with His dust, 
 
 When Nature's feelings are constrained to bow, 
 
 Then take me, father, and perform thy vow. 
 
 Now, let me go alone with Israel's maids, 
 
 To mourn and pray in yonder mountain shades." 
 
 Then all the multitude, with darken'd brow, 
 Saw the dire consequence of Jephthah's vow ; 
 And ceasing martial song and joyful lays, 
 Felt that a cloud o'ershadowM victory's bays ; 
 And as they slowly to their homes return'd, 
 Traces of woe were everywhere discern'd. 
 
 Heart-torn with anguish, Abdiel left the crowd, 
 Whose observation stung his spirit proud ; 
 And, careless where he went, he slowly stray'd 
 Down a sun-lighted and sequester'd glade. 
 At length he sprang from off his restless steed, 
 Throwing the bridle down with little heed ; 
 And left the fiery charger all alone, 
 While he sat down upon a mossy stone, 
 
OB, jephthah's vow. 57" 
 
 And laid his throbbing head upon his hand, 
 "While the soft breeze his burning -forehead fann'd. 
 Thus long he sat, all things but one forgot, — 
 That dark, deep shadow on his lonely lot. 
 So he remain'd till day's bright sun grew pale, 
 And evening gather'd round her mist-wreathed veil ; 
 When softly on his dormant, grief-struck soul, 
 In sad, wild strains, some distant music stole. 
 The low-breathed wailing of that mystic air, 
 Roused the attention of the mourner there ; 
 The sympathetic plaint of every chord, 
 Might well with AbdiePs woe-sprung thoughts- 
 
 accord, 
 And though oblivious of all earth before, 
 Now he could feel the power that music bore. 
 E'en his crush'd spirit own'd the mighty spell, 
 Amid the echoes of joy's parting knell. 
 The weeping melody which onward roll'd, 
 Seem'd in its softening power his soul to fold ; 
 And by the influence of its soothing tone, 
 Melted the haughty warrior's heart of stone ; 
 For, as the harmony around him crept, 
 Woe's fount was opened, and the soldier wept. 
 He who the battle's front so dauntless trod, 
 Now wept in solitude before his God. 
 And nearer soon the hidden warblers drew, 
 Their song distinct, themselves conceal'd from view ;, 
 For slowly, sadly, down a neighbouring glade, 
 Pass'd to the mountains the devoted maid ; 
 And Israel's virgin daughters in her train, 
 Swell'd the sad music of their low refrain ; 
 
58 ISCAH ; 
 
 And up among the rocks, the accents clear, 
 Keach'd in wild cadence Ahdiel's listening ear. 
 He sprang erect, and held his panting breath, 
 Hearing, as if transfix'd, that dirge of death. 
 His aching heart with frenzied anguish rent, 
 While thus was chanted out that soft lament : — ' 
 " Mourn for Israel's noble cedar bending, 
 
 For the flower that bloom'd beneath its shade ; 
 Grief, her barbed arrow to us sending, 
 
 Bids us weep the loss of Gilead's maid. 
 " See our mighty leader, Jephthah, stooping, 
 
 In the joyous hour of martial pride ; 
 See his laurels, scarcely gatherM, drooping, 
 
 While he casts the poison'd wreath aside. 
 " Vain are all his victories now to cheer him, 
 
 Vain the pride of conquest and of power ; 
 She, his treasured one, no longer near him, 
 
 Snateh'd away in triumph's grandest hour. 
 " Glory's fruits bloom'd fair ; he sought to pluck them 
 
 Sought to seize them in his eager grasp ; 
 But the blast of the Almighty struck them, 
 
 And they turn'd to ashes in his clasp. 
 " He who fought at Jephthah's side is mourning 
 
 For his youth's first love, his beauteous fair, 
 Never now upon the bridal morning, 
 
 Israel's nuptial crown for him to wear. 
 " Stern and lofty as th' aspiring eagle, 
 
 Bow'd in loneliness, he mourns his fate ; 
 Dim his eye which blazed, at morn, so regal, 
 
 Quench'd the light which flamed so high of late. 
 
OB, jephthah's tow. 59 
 
 " Mourn for Israel's loveliest flower fading, 
 
 In the early dawning of life's day ; 
 Lo, a cloud her joyous youth is shading ; — 
 
 She is passing, 'mid its gloom, away. 
 " Life has joys, but of them all unheeding, 
 Meek she bows to Heaven's high behest ; 
 Yields her spirit, though her heart is bleeding, 
 
 To the mighty mandates of the blest. 
 " Love is whispering, in its accents tender, 
 
 Tempting her to linger yet below ; 
 But she gives her life, in full surrender, 
 
 Seeking but th' Almighty's will to know. 
 " Bitter flows the cup for her that" s filling, 
 
 And she heaves one lingering, struggling sob ; 
 Yet the sacrifice is not unwilling, 
 
 Though the heart awhile may wildly throb. 
 " So we pass unto the lonely mountains, 
 
 In Jehovah's sight to mourn and pray ; 
 Giving vent to sorrow's opening fountains, 
 
 Till arrives the sacrificial day. 
 " Jephthah saw his spotless lily blooming, 
 
 And he cherish'd it with tender pride ; 
 But the vow he blindly spoke, was dooming, 
 
 And in crimson hue its petals dyed. 
 " We the coronet of grief are braiding, 
 
 All the laurels 'neath our feet are trod ; 
 But she springs to be a flower unfading, 
 Blooming on the bosom of her God." 
 Such was the dirge the Hebrew maidens wail'd, 
 While .closing eve their moving figures veil'd ; 
 
60 ISCAH ; 
 
 And as they higher trod the mountain's side, 
 Ahdiel their snow-clad forms but scarce descried, 
 Moving like dim mist-wreath among the trees, 
 While the dirge-echoes trembled on the breeze. 
 At length the last pale robe was out of sight, 
 The last faint echo died upon the night. 
 Abdiel had stood all motionless till now, 
 One cold hand press'd upon his aching brow ; 
 But now he started with a bitter groan, 
 And sank once more upon the dewy stone. 
 " She spends the night upon the mountain's side, 
 And here shall be my lonely watch," he cried. 
 ■" O vengeance ! vengeance on the heathen foe, 
 On those who fill my heart this day with woe ! 
 The sparkling cup of joy was at my lip, 
 But ere I could the flowing goblet sip, 
 Down from my hand with fury it was dash'd, 
 While round my head destruction's lightning 
 
 flash'd. 
 Dark is my dreary life henceforth, and lone ; 
 With her my all of happiness is flown. 
 Doom'd is my love, stricken my heart's desire ! 
 O fly the vision of that altar fire ! 
 O Iscah ! only dearest of my heart ! 
 How shall I from my own beloved part ? 
 How can I live, when Iscah disappears, 
 
 how support the dreary chain of years ? 
 
 1 mill not ! To the battle I will go, 
 And dying hurl my vengeance at the foe ! 
 When she is gone, then Abdiel too shall die, 
 I'll rush to arms, and sound the battle-crv : 
 
or, jephthah's tow. 61 
 
 And with the last throb of this heart so riven, 
 
 My cry for vengeance shall rise up to heaven ! " 
 
 He sprang erect, with hollow, flashing eye, 
 
 His clench'd right hand raised upward to the sky, 
 
 As if his sinew'd arm, his gathered frown, 
 
 Could tear Jehovah's venging thunders down. 
 
 And as he stood amid the darken'd night, 
 
 While from his eyes flamed out that strange, wild 
 
 light, 
 His pallid brow with jet black locks o'erhung, 
 And words of madden'd vengeance on his tongue, 
 Giving to sound the anguish of his mind, 
 He scarcely seem'd to be of human-kind. 
 But hidden by the darkness stood a form, 
 In silence listening to that grief-swell'd storm ; — 
 'Twas Jephthah, who alone had wander'd there, 
 To pour to heaven a mourning father's prayer. 
 He paused awhile and look'd upon the youth, 
 Thus vowing for his enemies no ruth ; 
 Then slowly gain'd the youthful warrior's side, 
 And gently said, " God's promises" abide ! " 
 Quickly turn'd Abdiel at the low-spoke word, 
 His ready hand half drew the gleaming sword ; 
 Then recognizing Jephthah's noble mien, 
 He ask'd his chieftain what those words should mean. 
 What promises could still his heart's deep pain, 
 Or give him back his happiness again ? 
 Awhile was silence, then the father spoke, — 
 " Abdiel, that vow which thy fond heart hath broke, 
 O thinkest thou that Jephthah feels it not ? 
 Yet in our grief God must not be forgot. 
 
62 ISCAH. 
 
 When to the Lord a sacrifice is given, 
 Are not the purest offer'd up to heaven ? 
 And God Himself hath singled out this one, 
 To rise to Him before yon golden throne. 
 Our loved is safe, 'tis ours to wait awhile, 
 To mourn the absence of her radiant smile ; 
 Soon all her days of mourning will be o'er, 
 And she will rise from earth to weep no more, 
 What though our nature struggles to rebel, 
 Our faith should say, He doeth all things well. 
 She passeth home, from grief for ever free ; — 
 There, Abdiel, will thy Iscah wait for thee ! 
 let us strive to serve our' mighty Lord, 
 Submissive to His will by us adored. 
 Go to the battle-field, as thou hast said, — 
 But not resolved to lay thee with the dead ; 
 Fight for the Lord, do thou thy Maker's will, 
 Only attend His mandates to fulfil. 
 Wait, for the rest, Jehovah's heavenward call, 
 Wait the commands of Him who ruleth all ! " 
 
 " Jephthah, I will," said Abdiel ; " God forgive 
 The rebel-thought that bade me scorn to live. 
 Pause here a little, we will humbly pray 
 For strength to bear that doom'd, that dreadful day; 
 Iscah ! beloved ! I will strive to meet 
 Thy waiting soul in heaven's eternal street. 
 Within my heart, the sacred fire of love 
 Shall burn unquench'd, until we meet above !" 
 
CANTO THE SIXTH. 
 
 THE FINAL DAT. — THE SACRIFICE. 
 
 Triumphant in thy closing eye, 
 
 The hope of glory shone, 
 Joy breathed in thine expiring eye, 
 
 To think the fight was won. 
 
 Dale. 
 
65 
 
 'T is night upon the mountains. Iscah there 
 Pours forth with tears her heav'n-aspiring pray'r, 
 Struggling to feel the strife with nature won, 
 To say, in patient trust, " Thy will be done." 
 She could not brook a witness of her woe, 
 And begg'd her young companions forth to go 
 Out of the cave where she had enter' d in, 
 That she alone might strive meek faith to win. 
 And so they stood without, or shelter sought 
 In other caves which wearing Time had wrought. 
 At first, in solemn silence, Iscah kneel' d, 
 Striving each lingering earthward thought to yield ; 
 Then the wild waves of agony rose high, 
 And from her knees she sprang with bitter cry. 
 " O darkness, shrouding darkness ! All is dark ! 
 My clouded soul perceives no gleaming spark ; 
 Where are the clinging trust, the sacred love, 
 Which once I thought so firmly fix'd above ? 
 O where is now my former cherish'd faith, 
 Through which I hoped to triumph over death ? 
 
GG isoah ; 
 
 Gone ! Pass'd away ! O dread, appalling thought, 
 That death should be to me with terror fraught. 
 I thought I longM to see the angel come, 
 Bearing my summons to my Father's home. 
 I thought that I was strong in holy zeal, 
 Seeking my Maker's glory, Israel's weal ; 
 And I have said that I would yield my breath, 
 If I could serve my nation by my death ; 
 I stood secure in life and earth's delight, 
 And just look'd out on grief from 'mid the light ; 
 But God has touch'd me, and my spirit quails, — 
 He calls me, and my prompt obedience fails. 
 Shame ! that a maid of Israel e'er should shrink 
 Back from whatever cup God bids her drink ; 
 Shame ! that a thought of earth should enter in, 
 To steal the heart He for Himself would win ! 
 My father ! can I leave thee ? Yet I must ! 
 Jehovah, stay upon Thyself my trust ! 
 O Abdiel, consecrated is my life ; 
 But not for thee ; thou ne'er wilt call me ' wife ! ' 
 Father in heaven, still this bitter pain, 
 Give me to feel Thy loving smile again! • 
 O Abdiel ! Abdiel ! how my heart is wrung ! 
 How tenderly to thee my soul has clung ! 
 Dearest of earth, my Abdiel, and my sire, — 
 How shall I leave them for the altar fire ? 
 O great Jehovah, Thou alone canst quell 
 These murm'rings which against Thy will rebel. 
 Forgive the yearnings of this troubled heart, 
 Forgive the tears that from griefs fountains start. 
 How wildly throbs life's current through my veins ; 
 Be still, my heart, and know Jehovah reigns ! 
 
OE, jephthah's vow. 67 
 
 O Father, give me strength to bear it all, 
 
 So that I may, with joy, obey Thy call. 
 
 With holier, deeper love my spirit fill, 
 
 And may my heart to Thine responsive thrill. 
 
 O breathe into my soul a sacred faith, 
 
 That I may calmly meet th' appointed death. 
 
 Let earth's attractions fade as mists away, 
 
 Light Thou my soul with heav'n's all-glorious ray. 
 
 And, O Jehovah, I would humbly plead, 
 
 That Thou wouldst bless my father in his need ; 
 
 O heal the heart which Thou this day hast riven, 
 
 And let this trial draw him nearer heav'n. 
 
 And make me willing, glad to yield my life, 
 
 Since Thou hast kept my father 'mid the strife. 
 
 Since Thou hast bless'd his arms and giv'n us peace, 
 
 Let every murmur of Thine handmaid cease. 
 
 O bind my soul to Thine, Thou Holy One ; 
 
 Hear me, Jehovah, while I seek Thy throne. 
 
 Bless me, my Father ; me, with those I love, 
 
 And may we meet before Thy face above. 
 
 Faith triumphs over Nature — God hath won. 
 
 Thy will, O Father, — Thine alone be done ! " 
 
 Iscah had sunk upon her knees awhile, 
 But now she rose, with bright, triumphant smile, 
 " Blessed be God, Who heard my sad complaint, 
 He giveth needful strength unto the faint. 
 1 ' e breathes upon my spirit heav'nly balm, 
 And bids the tempest of my grief be calm ; 
 His sun of light hath risen upon my soul, 
 He makes the wounded, weary trembler whole. 
 
 f 2 
 
68 ISCAH ; 
 
 God of love, Thou scatterest sorrow's night, 
 And I can now believe Thou doest right. 
 
 1 now shall fetter none to things of time ; 
 
 My death shall draw their thoughts to bliss sublime. 
 
 Had we been bless'd on earth, we might have ceased 
 
 To wish our better happiness increased. 
 
 Our truant hearts might soon have learn'd to roam 
 
 Away from heaven, our G-od's eternal home. 
 
 We might have rested in time's passing things, 
 
 Nor wish'd to soar on faith's upbearing wings. 
 
 But now, although divided for a while, 
 
 We soon shall meet beneath Jehovah's smile. 
 
 I and my father, there, shall meet and bless 
 
 Him Who has been the Lord our Righteousness ; 
 
 There, with my mother, we with joy shall dwell, 
 
 And praise our God, Who hath done all things well. 
 
 Yes, all ! My soul can grasp that glorious thought, 
 
 Since God submission to His will has taught. 
 
 Yes, when, this scene of fiery trial past, 
 
 My weary soul on heav'n's bright shore is cast, 
 
 Then, looking back upon this fearful night, 
 
 I shall perceive that all was order'd right. 
 
 And Abdiel, too, shall join our songs of praise 
 
 To God, the blessed Ruler of our days. 
 
 Abdiel shall meet me, never more to die; — 
 
 There we shall dwell, where ev'ry tear is dry. 
 
 O glorious hour, when round the golden throne, 
 
 Reunion's bliss shall ever be our own ; 
 
 Pure and unsinning, ever to adore 
 
 Jehovah's name, and tell His wonders o'er. 
 
 blest Eternity, more bright than time ! 
 
 1 long thy glorious heights of bliss to climb ; 
 
oe, jephthah's vow. 69 
 
 To see my God unveil' d, His love to share, 
 Shielded from sin and earth and ev"ry snare. 
 Thanks be to God ! at length my soul can bow 
 And cheerfully repeat my father's vow ! " 
 
 The mighty strife was o'er, and faith had won ; 
 Iscah could say, through tears, " Thy will be done." 
 All quickly pass'd away the fleeting days, 
 Spent by that maiden band in prayer and praise. 
 And ere those two short months had sped their course, 
 Iscah drew strength from an Almighty source. 
 
 'Tis now, as ever 'twas in times of yore, 
 The furnace purifies the precious ore ; 
 Those whom God loves He chastens, making meet 
 His purchas'd ones to share His heav'nly seat. 
 We live in times of light and Gospel love, 
 'Neath richest blessings shower'd from above ; 
 And in each hour of trial and deepest grief, 
 We can apply to Jesus for relief. 
 We can look hack, and see how Jesus died, 
 And all the claims of Justice satisfied. 
 Iscah look'd forward to the Coming One, 
 Through the same faith, the gift of God alone. 
 She knew that He would come to purge her sin ; 
 We know that He has come to make us clean. 
 As Iscah found, so Christians find it now, 
 Sweet in the presence of the Lord to bow ; 
 Sweet to look up in grief and seek His aid; 
 Sweet to perceive the gracious answer made. 
 Our mighty God has ever been the same, 
 For ever blessed be His holy name ; 
 
70 iscah ; 
 
 Ever attentive to His children's cry, 
 Unto His suffering ones for ever nigh ; 
 Heady to calm their griefs and bid them cease, 
 When chastening has produced its fruits of peace. 
 Come joy, come sorrow, pain or danger come, 
 If that it wafts us nearer to our home ! 
 
 Softly and calmly flew the last lone night, 
 And dawn stole out upon the mountain's height ; 
 The first faint glimmer in the shaded east, 
 Into the morning twilight soon increased. 
 Upon the mountain-top the breathless still 
 Might cause the pulse with solemn awe to thrill. 
 No bird had left its nest to spring in air, 
 No buzz of insect yet was whispering there ; 
 And from the lonely valley far beneath, 
 Hazily veil'd in morning's misty wreath, 
 As yet no wakening sounds of life had come, 
 To usher in the day's tumultuous hum. 
 Silence was brooding o'er the mountain snow, 
 And nestling in the verdant vales below. 
 Clearer and clearer grew the brightening dawn, , 
 As night's soft curtains further back were drawn, 
 Until at length the folds flung fully back, 
 Made free a passage for the sunbeam's track, 
 Bursting o'er hill and valley to illume, 
 The final day, the day of Iscah's doom. 
 
 The day that she had dreaded come at length, 
 Iscah look'd upwards to the Lord her Strength, 
 And found, as many since, that strength is given, 
 In time of need, to the beloved of Heaven. 
 
OB, JEPHTHAH'S TOW. 71 
 
 When God bestows a cross, He giveth power 
 To bear it in His own appointed hour. 
 And trial, which seems so fearful from afar, 
 When near is but a heavenward guiding star, 
 Closer attracting to our mansion'd home, 
 Pointing its light to the eternal dome. 
 
 Calm shone heaven's radiance in fair Iscah's eye, 
 As trustingly she raised it to the sky, 
 And thought that ere that dawning day was o'er, 
 Her soul would rest upon the deathless shore. 
 
 A little later, and the maiden train 
 Pass'd down the mountains to their homes again ; 
 And soul-wrung Jephthah folded to his heart 
 The child from whom he was so soon to part. 
 Upon her father's breast her head reclined, 
 While round his neck her loving arms entwined. 
 Softly she whisper'd words of soothing love, 
 And bid him fix his heart henceforth above. 
 Then o'er that bending head so young and fair 
 Jephthah breathed forth a father's broken pray'r. 
 And when the last faint sentence had been heard, 
 Another came to say the parting word. 
 For Abdiel enter'd with a look which told 
 How earthly ties had loosed their former hold ; 
 And when he spoke, the low, sad music fell, 
 As if he bade to life a last farewell. 
 " G-od claims thee, Iscah, as the bride of Heaven, 
 But still may sister-love to me be given. 
 Adieu, sweet sister ! He who gives thee power 
 To stand so calmly in this dreadful hour, 
 
72 ISCAH 
 
 The same Almighty hand will bear thee on, 
 
 Until thy time of earthly trial, is gone. 
 
 A little, little while, and we shall meet, 
 
 Radiant in heav'n's own everlasting street. 
 
 Meanwhile, Bis will be done who knoweth best ; 
 
 In His own time, He gives His children rest." 
 
 A quiver slightly shook the last rich tone, 
 
 As Iscah's hand was press'd within his own. 
 
 " Farewell, dear Abdiel, God be with thee still, 
 
 And with His influence thy spirit fill ; 
 
 My childhood's brother, we shall meet again. 
 
 Adieu, dear Abdiel ! Farewell till then ! " 
 
 The hour was come, and Iscah turn'd away, 
 
 But paused again, one whispered word to say : 
 
 " A childless Father, ere the day is done ! 
 
 O Abdiel, take my place, and be his son ! " 
 
 Lo, at the altar see the victim stand, 
 
 To yield her life-blood to a father's hand. 
 
 The mitred priest is there, in full attire, 
 
 And waiting Levites to prepare the fire ; 
 
 Parents were there, who knew a father's heart, 
 
 And mourn'd for those whom heav'n-pledged vows 
 
 must part ; 
 The young were there, and wond'ring vieVd the scene, 
 Hoping some saving hand might intervene ; 
 And Israel's proudest warriors, too, were nigh, 
 Waiting to witness how a maid could die. 
 And all with wond'ring veneration view'd 
 Th' untroubled dignity with which she stood, 
 Looking so meet for heaven, so pure and fair, 
 While was breathed forth the consecration pray'r ; 
 
OH, jephthah's vow. 73 
 
 Then her lips parted, and she calmly said, 
 " God's blessing rest upon my father's head, — 
 The blessing of the God who gives this land 
 Unto His people by His own right hand ; 
 The blessing of the glorious coming One, 
 Rest on my people and for them atone ; 
 The Prince, the Captain of Jehovah's host, 
 Who buys His conquest at a mighty cost ; 
 Conquer'd, yet triumphing most gloriously ; 
 Blessed be those who His salvation see ! 
 I see the coming glory from afar, 
 I see the rising light of Jacob's star; 
 "Tis heaven's own light, its blest enlivening ray, 
 Which shines to cheer me ere I pass away. 
 Jehovah, see me as in prayer I bow ; 
 Receive Thy child, accept my father's vow ; 
 I long to soar from earth and fly abroad, 
 Home to the bosom of my faithful God ; 
 His everlasting arms shall be my home, 
 Father ! Messiah ! Prince ! I come, I come ! " 
 
 She ceased, and sank upon her father's breast, 
 And then the weary spirit was at rest. 
 Claim'd by the Giver, fled the spark of life, 
 Without the aid of sacrificial knife. 
 The hour of trial was o'er, the vow was paid, 
 And thus the father's sacrifice was made, 
 
 Now He has come, Whom Iscah trusted in, 
 Come, by Himself to purge away our sin, 
 If she resign'd all life and earthly love, 
 For Him whom she expected from above ; 
 
74 ISOAH. 
 
 What shall we do, who see the Father's grace 
 
 Shining upon us in the Saviour's face ? 
 
 Resign our life, if He bids lay it down, — 
 
 Forsake earth's tinsel, for a jewell'd crown ; 
 
 If earthly love too closely chain the heart, 
 
 Tear the sweet idol down and bid it part. 
 
 Each bleeding tear, in love to Jesus given, 
 
 Shall be a precious pearl of joy in heaven. 
 
 Then onward, upward, ever higher still ; 
 
 On for the fountain whence proceeds the rill ; 
 
 Earth is for us no home, no Christian's rest, 
 
 "lis but the passage to that realm so blest. 
 
 Eternal ages lie unknown behind, 
 
 When we existed only in His mind. 
 
 He gave us being, and He tells us how 
 
 We may employ for Him our little now. 
 
 Essence of love ! Existence Infinite ! 
 
 Our days are by Thy glance of glory lit ; 
 
 O heaven-crown'd King ! O bleeding Lamb of God, 
 
 Teach us to follow on where Thou hast trod ; 
 
 Let suffering's chaplet round our brows entwine, 
 
 For us the thorn-wreath once encircled Thine, 
 
 Our all be centred in Thy blood-sign'd love ; 
 
 Our hopes, our conversation fixed above. 
 
 Jesus, shall be our watchword in the world, 
 
 Jesus, upon our banner be unfurl'd ; 
 
 Jesus, the name above all others dear, 
 
 Shall cheer and save us while we wander here ; 
 
 And when, His own redeem'd, we stand above, 
 
 For ever we shall rest in Jesus' love ! 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
ON THE MAEEIAGE OF THE PRINCESS 
 EOYAL. 
 
 Faeewell, out gentle, youthful Bride, 
 Your parents' joy, your country's pride ; 
 Farewell ! O may your life be joy, 
 Few sorrows e'er your pleasure cloy ; 
 But when in foreign lands you roam, 
 O ne'er forget your childhood's home. 
 
 As all your childhood pass'd away, 
 Beneath a loving mother's sway, 
 So may your youth still calmly glide, 
 Happy and peaceful, much-loved Bride ; 
 And when you 've cross'd the Ocean's foam, 
 O ne'er forget your childhood's home. 
 
 By woe may you be lightly press'd, 
 May few cares heave that gentle breast ; 
 Love is your portion, joy your lot, 
 May it be that joy which changes not : 
 In Prussia may you ne'er bemoan 
 The day you left your childhood's home. 
 
78 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 May God be with you, gentle Bride, 
 To save, direct, to cheer and guide. 
 For blessings on your head we pray, 
 Our darling Bride, our Rose of May ; 
 Adieu ! And when you are alone, 
 O think upon your childhood's home. 
 
 PRUSSIAN ADDRESS TO PKINCE 
 FREDERIC. 
 
 O Royal Peince, we wish you well : 
 
 With loyalty our bosoms swell ; 
 
 Bring home your Bride, your joy is ours ; 
 
 Till you arrive, we count the hours. 
 
 Pilot, with care the vessel guide, 
 
 Which bears Prince Frederic and his Bride. 
 
 Fair English Bride, we welcome you. 
 Our Prince's heart is brave and true ; 
 He ne'er will slight his Royal wife, 
 But love her long as he has life. 
 Pilot, with care, O stem the tide, — 
 The vessel bears Prince Frederic's Bride. 
 
 O gallant Prince ! Royal Pair ! 
 
 England and Prussia's arms we bear ; 
 
 To bid you welcome home, we wait, 
 
 We 've open'd wide the city gate. 
 
 Pilot, quick let the vessel glide, 
 
 Which bears Prince Frederic's Royal Bride. 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 79 
 
 Princess, may you happy be ! 
 Your subjects true and loyal are we; 
 And may you never feel alone, 
 Or sigh for your sweet English home, 
 Whence first you left your mother's side, 
 To be our own Prince Frederic's Bride. 
 
 THE PRINCESS EOYAL. 
 
 Beneath Victoria's gentle sway, 
 
 In Albion's sea-girt isle, 
 Our Royal Rose her childhood pass'd, 
 
 Then bloom' d in youth awhile. 
 
 'Twas but a while; we could not keep 
 Our Flower always here, < 
 
 For she, by other eyes admired, 
 To other hearts was dear. 
 
 The Prussian Prince admired our Rose, 
 Her young affections gain'd, 
 
 He ask'd the country for her hand, 
 And soon the prize obtain'd. 
 
 Then rang the joyful bells, and she 
 Who was her country's pride, 
 
 Left country, parents, home, to be 
 Prince Frederic William's Bride. 
 
80 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 All ! mournful day when England saw 
 
 Victoria leave her shore, 
 To be another country's prize, 
 
 But Albion's no more. 
 
 The orb of day mock'd not our grief, 
 
 By shining on the scene, 
 But while we said that last " Farewell," 
 
 Clouds swiftly came between. 
 
 " Ah, treat her well, and take good care, 
 Of England's Princess Royal," 
 
 Some rough, true-hearted English said, 
 With tears and wishes loyal. 
 
 But she is happy in her home, 
 
 And peaceful is her life ; 
 A year has flown away, she is 
 
 No longer Bride, but wife. 
 
 A son, a son ! Let England cry, 
 " God bless the youthful Prince ;" 
 
 O may Jehovah ever be 
 His Guardian and Defence. 
 
 And now our cherish'd Princess Royal 
 
 Obtains a title new, — 
 Not only bride and wife, but now 
 
 She is a mother too. 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 81 
 
 ON THE ANNIVERSARY OF THE 
 PRINCESS ROYAL'S MARRIAGE. 
 
 A teas has quickly flown away, 
 Since that eventful sunny day, 
 On which Victoria's hand and heart, 
 Were pledged, till death the owners part ; 
 And still the tears are scarcely dried 
 Which flowed at parting with our Bride. 
 
 Oh, when will she again appear, 
 To gratify her suhjects here, 
 To listen to the welcomes loyal, 
 Which we will give our Princess Royal ; 
 For she is still her country's pride, 
 Though she's not ours, but Frederic's Bride. 
 
 On this, the Royal wedding-day, 
 Let England, Prussia, loudly say, 
 God keep otir darling young Princess 
 In all His ways, and richly bless ; 
 Oh, may He be the Guard and Guide 
 Of Frederic William's much-loved Bride. 
 
 TO BESSIE. 
 
 Though time and distance long may part, 
 
 Yet I shall think of thee ; 
 And Bessie, dear, where'er thou art, 
 
 Oh, still remember me. 
 
82 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 And when the peaceful Sabbath-day, 
 Dawns fair and bright on thee, 
 
 Upon that sacred, happy day, 
 Bessie, remember me. 
 
 When in your closet's silent shade, 
 To God you bow the knee, 
 
 Oh, then I ask a thought from you, 
 In prayer, remember me. 
 
 And when our race on earth is run, 
 
 We shall together be, 
 And never need again to say, 
 
 Dear friend, remember me. 
 
 ALONE WITH JESUS. 
 
 Alone with Jesus ! What can sweeter be ? 
 
 Alone with Jesus, face to face with God ; 
 How blest the gentle Saviour's face to see, 
 
 Proud Judah's Lion, and dear Jesse's Bod. 
 
 Alone with Jesus, earth is left behind, 
 
 In humble faith and hope we now draw near ; 
 
 He knows the conflicts of each troubled mind, 
 And ev'ry quiv'ring throb of hope or fear. 
 
 Alone with Jesus, with our dearest Friend, 
 With Him who bore our heavy grievous load ; 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. h 
 
 On whom our hopes of heavenly life depend, 
 "Who reconciles us to His Father, God. 
 
 Alone with Jesus ! Satan conquer' d stands, 
 In vanquish'd malice, far from us and Love ; 
 
 Jesus, our Saviour, shows His pierced hands, 
 And tells him that our names are writ above. 
 
 Alone with Jesus ; let me oftener be 
 
 Alone with Thee, my faithful, loving Lord ; 
 
 Oh, give more of Thy Spirit's grace to me, 
 And oftener cheer me by Thy gracious word. 
 
 Alone with Jesus ! Let me pierce the gloom 
 That hides my Saviour from the eye of faith ; 
 
 Saviour, be with me, till I reach the tomb, 
 Then take me to Thee, O Thou Death of death. 
 
 TEIBULATION. 
 
 No friend but the Saviour, 
 
 No father but God, 
 No sun but my Jesus, 
 
 To light my dark road ; 
 Alone in the desert, 
 
 Ah where should I stray, 
 If Christ were not mine, 
 
 My strength and my stay ? 
 
84 MISOI!LI.AIflOTIS POEMS. 
 
 When comforts pass from me, 
 
 And all appears dark, 
 Without one bright sunbeam, 
 
 My pathway to mark ; 
 When tempests blow o'er me, 
 
 So cold and so bleak, 
 In vain I essay 
 
 A refuge to seek. 
 
 But Jesus approaches, 
 
 Dispelling the night, 
 The bright Sun of Righteousness 
 
 Gives me His light ; 
 He binds up my bruises, 
 
 I lean on His arm, 
 Now nought can o'ercome me, 
 
 My spirit to harm. 
 
 He safely conducts me, 
 
 Through fire and through flame, 
 Then shall I not honour 
 
 And praise His dear name ; 
 In sin He first found me, 
 
 But saved by His love, 
 Through the desert He brings me, 
 
 To heaven above. 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 85 
 
 SONNET. 
 
 Fathee, the clouds are round me big with gloom, 
 
 And 'mid their shrouding folds I would Thy aid 
 entreat ; 
 Woe's black deep pall is o'er me, and the tomb 
 
 Of all my joys seems gaping at my feet ; 
 My wrestling soul is torn with bitter anguish, 
 
 In unshared grief my spirit weeps alone ; 
 Thou seest, Thou seest, my erush'd spirit languish, 
 
 Father, save me ! Am not I Thine own ? 
 Let me see Jesus, and my woes shall vanish, 
 
 Let me see Jesus, or I sink, I die ; 
 One glimpse, of Him can every sorrow banish ; 
 
 O Saviour, turn on me Thy loving eye. 
 Tell me, O tell me, Saviour, Thou art mine, 
 
 And I will gladly own that I am Thine. 
 
 "JESUS WEPT." 
 
 Amid the griefs which round us roll'd, 
 
 One wave of comfort crept, 
 While looking at the dark, damp mould, 
 Which soon that loved one would enfold, 
 It was that " Jesus wept." 
 
 We're not alone, though chilling Death 
 
 Into our ranks has stepp'd, 
 Though silent is that fervent breath, 
 Yet looking up with humble faith, 
 We whisper, "Jesus wept." 
 
86 MISCELLA2TEOT78 POEMS. 
 
 He wept, our.own incarnate Lord, 
 He who our loved one kept ; 
 And 'neath the banner of His word, 
 Our tears dim not the warrior's sword, 
 Since once our Captain wept. 
 
 ON" HER MAJESTY'S VISIT TO THE 
 PRINCESS ROYAL. 
 
 God save the Queen, and bless our Rose of May, 
 "Who by the Prussian Prince was borne away 
 To grace his land, the home which was her choice, 
 To whom we said, "Farewell," with mournful voice; 
 And now our honour'd Queen has gone to see 
 Tha.t eldest darling o'er the deep sea ; 
 
 Speed, speed the Royal bark, 
 Speed quickly o'er the main, 
 
 For 'tis that ship that bears our Queen 
 To see her child again. 
 
 Ah, who can worthily describe that scene, 
 
 The meeting of our Princess and our Queen : 
 
 There poet's skill must stay, nor raise the veil, 
 
 For ev"ry effort to describe must fail ; 
 
 'Tis sacred ! O let it be ever so ! 
 
 Enough that two Royal hearts with rapture glow ; 
 
 Speed o'er the ocean's wave, 
 Speed, pilot, on thy way ; 
 
 The vessel bears Great Britain's Queen, 
 There must be no delay. 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. b/ 
 
 The youthful girls who saw her leave our land, 
 Have sent a souvenir hy Royalty's hand, 
 The Queenly mother has engaged to bear 
 The present to our Eose, belov'd and fair ; 
 England can ne'er forget her Princess Royal, 
 Though she's no longer ours, we still are loyal ; 
 And now let England cry, 
 
 What long her cry has been, — 
 God bless our much-loved Princess Royal, 
 
 For aye, God save the. Qtjeen! 
 
 HEAVEN. 
 
 Heaven is the land of peace, 
 
 The land of love ; 
 The Christian's resting-place 
 
 Is found above. 
 
 Heaven is the abode of calm, 
 
 The home of joy; 
 There is sweet Gilead's balm, 
 
 Without alloy. 
 
 There Christ the Saviour reigns, 
 
 The City's light : 
 No tears are there, nor pains, 
 
 But all delight! 
 
 The vaulted heavens ring 
 With songs of praise ; 
 
88 MISCELLAJJEOTTS POEMS. 
 
 There the redeem'd ones sing, 
 And anthems raise 
 
 To Christ the Sacrifice, 
 The Lamb of God. 
 
 Who shed for guilty souls, 
 His precious blood. 
 
 "ABIDE WITH US." 
 
 Be with us, Lord ; pass not our dwelling by, 
 The shades of night are coming on apace ; 
 
 We cannot err if Thou, our Lord, be nigh, 
 If Thou uphold our footsteps by Thy grace. 
 
 Abide with us, great God, we humbly pray, 
 The night that cometh on is dark and drear ; 
 
 surely, Saviour, we shall lose our way, 
 If Thou do not abide, our hearts to cheer. 
 
 Abide with us, though we unworthy be 
 Of such a glorious, such a heavenly Guest ; 
 
 That shall but add unto our urgent plea, 
 Abide with us, dear Lord, and give us rest. 
 
 Rest from the awful power of sin and death, 
 Best on that bosom which bore all our strife, 
 
 Best in Thyself, dear Saviour, rest and faith 
 In Thee, Who didst for us give up Thy life. 
 
MISCEUQANEOTTS POEMS. 89 
 
 Abide with us, for sorrow's night is near, 
 Abide with us, O be our Guard and Guide ; 
 
 Abide with us, our fainting souls to cheer, 
 And land us safely on fair Canaan's side. 
 
 Abide with us, dear Saviour, to the end, 
 May we in heaven Thy splendid glories see ; 
 
 And in that land of love, O heavenly Friend, 
 May we for evermore abide with Thee. 
 
 THE LORD'S AKM IS NOT SHOETENED 
 THAT IT CANNOT SAVE." 
 
 It is not that Jehovah's hand 
 
 Hath lost its power to save ; 
 For still the Mighty One doth ride 
 
 On whirlwind and on wave. 
 
 It is not that He cannot hear 
 
 Our agonizing cry ; 
 It is not that He cannot see 
 
 From out the azure sky. 
 
 It is that we have sinn'd away 
 
 The presence of our Lord, 
 We've scorned His message, disobey'd, 
 
 And trampled on His word. 
 
 It is that our iniquities 
 
 Have made Him hide His face ; 
 
 Because of sin He hath refused 
 To show His pard'ning grace. 
 
90 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 Then let us turn again and seek 
 Our much insulted God, 
 
 And beg the pardon of our sins 
 Through the Eedeemer's blood. 
 
 And if we plead the Saviour's name, 
 The Father, sure, will smile, 
 
 And with His Son's own blood erase 
 The record of our guile. 
 
 DAKKNESS. 
 
 Daek lours the sky, and all around is drear, 
 And but one friend is nigh, my heart to cheer, 
 But one ? But one on earth ; but, O, above, 
 My Saviour reigns, and looks on me with love. 
 
 His hand sends every trial, He sees my grief, 
 'Tis He that chastens, He can give relief ; 
 He hears each sigh heaved by this burden'd heart, 
 In every woe of mine He bears a part. 
 
 That discipline is needful, Jesus knows, 
 Trusting His love, may I on Him repose ; 
 Yes, He is nigh, my fainting soul to cheer, 
 Though tempests howl, and all around is drear. 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 91 
 
 HEAVEN". 
 
 Theee is a land beyond all mortal gaze, 
 Where angels dwell in light divinely fair ; 
 The splendid grandeur of the aun's bright rays, 
 The moon and stars are all unheeded there; 
 And there the crowns and mansions are prepar'd, 
 Which to those faithful soldiers shall be given, 
 Who to withstand the world and sin have dared ; 
 O would you know that country's name ? Tis Heaven. 
 
 And what has brought those white-robed victors 
 
 there, 
 For whom did they so valiantly contend ? 
 Ah 'twas for Him who counted not life dear, 
 But sav'd and kept them steadfast to the end ; 
 They fought on earth in humble love and faith, 
 For Him whose sacred side for them was riv'n ; 
 He guided them through life and unto death, 
 And then receiv'd them to His home in Heav'n. 
 
 And should we too from earth be call'd away, 
 
 Before the year shall once more reach its close, 
 
 O may we dwell in everlasting day, 
 
 Where no chill blast of sorrow ever blows ; 
 
 And there may we, too, join the sacred band, 
 
 Who in their Saviour's strength 'gainst sin have 
 
 striv'n, 
 And with them enter on the Promis'd Land, 
 To dwell in radiant bliss with Christ in Heav'n. 
 
92 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 ON THE BIETH OF THE PKINCESS 
 VICTOEIA OF PKUSSIA. 
 
 Albion, lift up thy voice, 
 
 No longer mute remain, 
 But sing for joy, our noble Queen 
 
 Is grandmamma again. 
 
 On Prussia's Boyal stem 
 
 A second bud is blooming, 
 Our British Lion adds his voice 
 
 To Prussian cannon's booming. 
 
 'Tis long since Frederic bore 
 
 Our Princess Boyal away, 
 But now, as then, our hearts are loyal, 
 
 And will be go for aye. 
 
 Our Bose ! she still shall bear 
 
 That title so endearing, 
 Though far from Albion's happy isle, 
 
 Another fireside cheering. 
 
 To England's eldest born, 
 
 Our hearts must aye be loyal, 
 But not for lofty birth alone, 
 
 We love our Princess Boyal. 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 93 
 
 The virtues of our Rose 
 
 Are not alone in seeming, 
 But from her gentle woman's heart, 
 
 With steady ray are beaming. 
 
 And not her highest thoughts 
 
 Are fixed on earthly things ; 
 Victoria's queenly daughter owns 
 
 Jesus as King of kings. 
 
 Through Him who bore for her 
 Earth's dire reproach and scorning, 
 
 "We hope to see a crown of life 
 In heaven her brows adorning. 
 
 Then you who love our Rose, 
 
 Child of our earthly Queen, 
 Come love the Highest One of all, 
 
 The mighty to redeem ; 
 
 That through His love you may, 
 
 With her and hers, be casting 
 Your crowns at Jesus' feet, at home, 
 
 In glory everlasting. 
 
94 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 SUNSHINE. 
 
 Beatttifttl sunshine, 
 
 O'er valley and hill, 
 Glancing through branches 
 
 O'erhanging the rill, 
 Lending fresh beauty, 
 
 And joy to the scene, 
 As it dashes and sparkles 
 
 Beneath its bright beam. 
 
 It shines on the palace, 
 
 All loving and bright, 
 Enveloping it 
 
 In its golden light ; 
 It peeps through the windows 
 
 Of stately old halls, 
 Lighting each painting 
 
 That hangs on the walls. 
 
 It enters the cottage 
 
 All peaceful and gay, 
 Enlivening the house 
 
 With its gladsome ray ; 
 It shines on the birds'nests, 
 
 Just under the eaves, 
 And gleams through the quivering 
 
 And beautiful leaves. 
 
MISCELLAtTEOirS POEMS. 95 
 
 So lovely is sunshine, 
 
 But lovelier far 
 Is the great Sun of Righteousness, 
 
 Jacob's bright Star ; 
 The light of the rest 
 
 To His followers given, 
 The rest found above, 
 
 In perfection, in heaven. 
 
 ON THE DEPARTURE OF PRINCE 
 ALFRED ON A VOYAGE ROUND 
 THE WORLD. 
 
 Faeewell, our England cries, 
 Farewell, our sailor Prince ; 
 May gentle breezes rise, 
 Safe to convey him hence ; 
 May blessings on his youthful head, 
 Be ever by the Almighty shed. 
 
 The gallant vessel waits, 
 
 Her precious freight to bear, 
 While many thousand cheers, 
 Reverberate through the air ; 
 God save and bless our sailor Prince, 
 And be his Guardian and Defence. 
 
 And should cruel wars arise 
 Alfred our Prince will be 
 The champion of his land, 
 A gallant leader he ; 
 May glorious laurels crown his brow, 
 The God of victory him endow. 
 
96 MISCELLATS'EOTJS POEMS. 
 
 EPHEAIM. 
 
 How can I give thee up ? 
 
 It cannot, cannot be ; 
 For since I spake in wrath, 
 
 "Mj soul is sad for thee. 
 
 Is Ephraim my son ? 
 
 Is Ephraim my own ? 
 And shall I not regard 
 
 His first repenting moan ? 
 
 I surely- heard him say, 
 
 turn my soul to Thee ; 
 And as in olden times, 
 
 Thy presence let me see. 
 
 For now that I repent, 
 
 My soul is filled with shame, 
 That I so vile could be, 
 
 To disregard Thy name. 
 
 I cannot give thee up ! 
 
 Ephraim, it shall not be ! 
 I never can refuse 
 
 The soul that turns to me. 
 
 It was my hand that smote, 
 
 And now that hand shall heal, 
 And graciously to thee, 
 
 1 will myself reveal. 
 
MISCELLA.ITEOTJS POEMS. 97 
 
 Saviour, how oft have I? 
 
 Like Ephraim, slighted Thee ! 
 And dost Thou condescend 
 
 To sorrow thus for me ? 
 
 Then keep me near Thy side, 
 
 That I may grieve no more 
 That Saviour who the load 
 
 Of my transgressions bore. 
 
 Fill all my heart with love, 
 
 Deep, ardent love to Thee ; 
 Grant that my eyes on earth 
 
 May Thy salvation see. 
 
 With light and burning zeal, 
 
 Oh, send me forth to tell 
 The heathen far away, 
 
 That Thou canst save from hell. 
 
 Be Thou my Father, Lord ! 
 
 Guide me while I am young, 
 And e'en to life's last hour, 
 
 Still be my strength and song. 
 
 And, Father, when Thou hast 
 
 No longer need of me, 
 Then to my Saviour's breast 
 
 May I with rapture flee ! 
 
98 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 * CLOUDS. 
 
 Dabk, heavy clouds brood o'er my soul, 
 And close and loud Thy thunders roll ; 
 Over my head Thy billows go, 
 I see the cloud, but not the bow. 
 
 Wholly forsaken, left alone, 
 Oh, hear my agonizing moan ; 
 Scarce have I power to raise my eye 
 E'en to Thy mercy-seat on high. 
 
 Earth's friends are false ; O God of love, 
 Look down in pity from above ; 
 Thou know'st what sore distress I feel, 
 And if Thou wilt, canst throughly heal. 
 
 But ah, Emmanuel, Thou art gone ! 
 My soul has none to lean upon ; 
 I've grieved Thy Spirit, slighted Thee, 
 And now Thou hast withdrawn from me. 
 
 Remove these trials or grant more grace, 
 Show me once more Thy smiling face ; 
 Restore me to the narrow way, 
 From which I long have gone astray. 
 
 Forgive my sins, O God, forgive, 
 For none, but Thou, can bid me live ; 
 Here at Thy feet I prostrate lie, 
 Haste to my comfort, or I die. 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 99 
 
 ON THE DEATH OF 
 SIR HENEY HAVELOCK. 
 
 Oh, mourn for the stroke upon Albion's glory, 
 And mourn for the cedar of Lebanon spoil'd ; 
 
 Our Albion weeps while she lists to the story 
 Of high aspirations and promises foil'd. 
 
 See Albion, fair Albion, with sorrow is stooping, 
 A sorrow too poignant to slumber or sleep ; 
 
 And now, her proud banner with reverence drooping, 
 She bends o'er the tomb of great Havelock to weep. 
 
 Drop your dews, ye cloudlets that ride in the 
 heaven, 
 
 Weep with us for our hero, our captain, now gone ; 
 The one to whom victory and glory were given, 
 
 The star that so brightly in India shone. 
 
 Though we mourn our sad loss, we 'd not wish the 
 departed 
 Again upon earth, 'mid its sorrow and pain, 
 From his eye the last tear of earth's mourning has 
 started, 
 His happiness now will unclouded remain. 
 
 Yet 'twas not his courage, his might, nor his daring, 
 That won for his temples that amaranth crown. 
 
 Earth's glory is fleeting, but his was preparing 
 In heaven, above man's approval or frown. 
 
 H* 
 
100 MISCEliAJOIOTrS POEMS. 
 
 And now on the bosom of Jesus reclining, 
 
 That Saviour whose blood is all-potent to save, 
 
 He rests, ever free from distress and repining, 
 Triumphant o'er Satan, o'er sin, and the grave. 
 
 EBENEZER 
 
 Ebenezeb, God hath help'd me 
 
 To this hour of mortal bfe ; 
 God has help'd when clouds were louring, 
 
 When temptation's snares were rife. 
 
 Now I'd consecrate to Jesus 
 
 All fair youth's remaining days; 
 
 Saviour, Thine be all the glory, 
 Thine, my Lord, be all the praise. 
 
 Guide me through this dreary desert, 
 Bring me through the wilderness, 
 
 Leaning on my best Beloved, 
 Jesus, who delights to bless. 
 
 Let me not forsake Thee, Saviour ; 
 
 Let me never quit Thy side, 
 O Thou spotless, dear Redeemer, 
 
 "Who in love to me hast died. 
 
 Smile upon me, Lord, from heaven ; 
 
 Give me comfort here below ; 
 Guide through life, then take me yonder, 
 
 Where I Thee shall fully know. 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 101 
 
 THE LITTLE EOSEBUD. 
 
 A little opening bud began 
 
 Its beauties to disclose ; 
 And soon it promised to become 
 
 A lovely full-blown rose. 
 
 But ah, an all-prevailing Hand, 
 
 Unseen, but not unknown, 
 Bore our fair blossom far away, 
 
 To bloom before tbe throne. 
 
 We mourn the stroke, but yet can bow 
 
 Our trembling hearts, and say, 
 Father, Thy will, not ours, be done ; 
 
 God gave, He takes away. 
 
 And when we mount to Heaven, and view 
 
 Our Saviour all divine, 
 Amid the laurels on His brow, 
 
 Our rosebud shall entwine. 
 
 Earth's roses droop, they quickly die, 
 
 And lose their petals gay ; 
 But now our little bud is safe, 
 
 It ne'er can fade away. 
 
 It was a bud too fair for earth, 
 
 Too near allied to heaven, 
 So now, transplanted to the skies, 
 
 Its resting-place is given. 
 
102 MISCELLAJTEOTTS POEHS. 
 
 Close by the Rose of Sharon there, 
 It blooms in sweet repose, 
 
 'Mid fields with verdure ever clad, 
 Where living water flows. 
 
 ITALY. 
 
 Shall fair Italia's sunny land 
 Be tortured by a tyrant's hand ! 
 And shall her lovely summer skies 
 Look but on sad and downcast eyes ? 
 Oh, no ! the time we yet shall see, 
 When loved Italia shall be free. 
 
 Long, long enslaved by King and Pope, 
 What has she left but struggling hope ? 
 Hope that, in brighter days to come, 
 Her natives might possess a home ; 
 For home, sweet home can never be, 
 But in the country of the free. 
 
 Go, Garibaldi, go to fight 
 
 For what is each Italian's right, — 
 
 That liberty of heart and soul, 
 
 Which mortal man should ne'er control ; 
 
 And may Heaven's favour rest on thee, 
 
 And make our dear Italia free ! 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 103 
 
 And may our Jesus in His love, 
 A Saviour to Italians prove ; 
 May He their souls from woe redeem, 
 And bring those wanderers home to Him ; 
 And then their glorious land shall he 
 In God's dear Son made doubly free. 
 
 Oh, may they learn to pray alone 
 To Him who only can atone ; 
 Nor saint nor angel can have power 
 To save them in dread danger's hour ; 
 Oh, may they seek for victory, 
 Prom Him who can Italia free. 
 
 Matrons and maidens, you can pray 
 For help upon the battle day; 
 Perchance the Lord your prayers will hear 
 And save you from the ills you fear. 
 Pray that your country soon may be 
 Home of the Christian and the free. 
 
 ON THE DEATH OF A SABBATH SCHOOL 
 TEACHER WHO PASSED AWAY IN 
 SLEEP. 
 
 She tasted not the bitterness of death, 
 
 But sleeping softly, breathed her soul away, 
 
 And, on the mighty wings of loving faith, 
 Soar'd from earth's darkness to eternal day. 
 
104 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 Long had she served her Lord with fervent love ; 
 
 Long had she walked with Him earth's desert land, 
 And now He drew her to His home above, 
 
 To dwell for ever at His own right hand. 
 
 Sad, gloomy nights of tossing were her lot, 
 
 And when, at length, she calmly, sweetly slept, 
 
 And in that slumber all earth's cares forgot, 
 The King of Terrors to her pillow crept. 
 
 She saw him not, for angels watched around, 
 Her name was graven on her Saviour's heart ; 
 
 That dying chamber was a hallowM ground, 
 E'en Death with gentleness applied his dart. 
 
 Hush ! ye bright angels, still your snowy wings, 
 Lest the departing from her slumber start ; 
 
 Death with unerring hand his arrow flings, 
 And chills the generous life-blood of her heart. 
 
 Farewell, our sister, now an angel bright, 
 
 Our hearts with sorrow for our loss are riven ; 
 
 But she! oh, now she dwells in Jesu's light ; — 
 She slept on earth, but to awake in heaven. 
 
 Oh, glorious waking, in that region fair, 
 In the Redeemer's likeness now to shine ; 
 
 His bliss. His home, His holiness to share, 
 The branch united to its parent Vine. 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 105 
 
 And us, whom she has left to mourn her loss, 
 Perchance she watches with her loving eyes ; 
 
 And when we raise the banner of the cross, 
 Is looking on us from the azure skies. 
 
 And oh, what joy shall light her radiant brow, 
 When one by one shall follow her to heaven, 
 
 Of those whom here she taught in prayer to bow, 
 The children who to her by God are given. 
 
 On earth she wrestled hard for many years, 
 
 That God would plant His Spirit in their hearts ; 
 
 And now the seed she water'd with her tears, 
 Forth to the rich abundant harvest starts. 
 
 Then every soul that God to her has given, 
 Shall form another gem to grace her crown, 
 
 Which at the Saviour's feet at home, in heaven, 
 In humble praise and joy she will cast down. 
 
 Then let us persevere, and all press on, 
 Waiting, in patience, for the time to meet ; 
 
 Knowing that when our earthly course is run, 
 We '11 join our sister at the Saviour's feet. 
 
 We all shall wear a golden crown of life ; 
 
 We all will tune our harps to songs of joy ; 
 And far from every scene of care and strife, 
 
 With hymns of praise eternity employ. 
 
108 MISCELIiASTEOirS POEMS. 
 
 Praise to the Father, "Who the Son gave up ; 
 
 Praise to the Spirit, Who the blood applied ; 
 Praise to the Lamb, Who drain'd the bitter cup 
 
 For us on Calvary, where He bled and died. 
 
 THE MISSIONARY'S WISH. 
 
 Mi Father, God, I fain would go 
 To those who know Thee not, 
 
 And tell them of that precious blood, 
 Which cleanses every spot. 
 
 Oh, send me forth, my dearest Lord, 
 Send me in youth's fair morning, 
 
 To tell how Christ for souls endured 
 Earth's mockery and scorning. 
 
 Let me devote my youthful health 
 To Thee, my faithful God; 
 
 Oh, fit me early for the work, 
 E'en by Thy chastening rod. 
 
 I would begin to work in youth, 
 While yet my soul 's elastic, 
 
 Lest indolence should mould my heart, 
 With hand so strongly plastic. 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 107 
 
 And, Lord, I 'd dedicate to Thee 
 
 The spring-time of my days, 
 Because more lively is the soul, 
 
 And warmer is its praise. 
 
 I ask not for a lengthen'd life, 
 
 So it may be but holy ; 
 So it be spent in teaching souls 
 
 To love the Saviour wholly. 
 
 I wish not for an English grave, 
 
 For I would rather lie 
 Amid the clay remains of those 
 
 For whose relief I 'd fly. 
 
 Then, Lord, upon that glorious day, 
 
 The resurrection morning, 
 Let me, through Jesus, see a crown 
 
 Full many a brow adorning. 
 
 THE PENITENT. 
 
 'Mid Scribes and Pharisees the woman stood, 
 'Mid hypocrites who thirsted for her blood, 
 And who, though full of wickedness within, 
 Pretended outwardly to flee from sin ; 
 There stood the woman, fearfully debased, 
 Charged with the awful crime of being unchaste. 
 But now, discover'd guilt had blanch'd her cheek, 
 As tremblingly she stood before the meek 
 
108 MISCELXAITEOrS POEMS. 
 
 And holy Jesus, Whose all-piercing eye 
 
 Saw her accusers' deep hypocrisy ; 
 
 And as to hear Him speak they press'd around, 
 
 He stoop'd and wrote in silence on the ground. 
 
 Again being ask'd, He said, " Let the first stone 
 
 By him whose life is wholly pure be thrown." 
 
 Abash'd and conscience-struck they could not dare 
 
 Longer that penetrating glance to bear ; 
 
 Nor did attempt to raise the murderous stone, 
 
 But left the prisoner and her Judge alone. 
 
 The Saviour gently raised His sacred head, 
 
 " Woman, hath none condemn'd thee ? " She said, 
 
 " None, Lord." And with that word the trial was o'er, 
 
 For Jesus said, " Nor I ; go, sin no more." 
 
 Oh, ye who bear our gracious Saviour's name, 
 
 Quench not the smoking flax, perchance 'twill flame, 
 
 Ye who professedly to Jesus bow, 
 
 Say unto none, " I'm holier than thou ; " 
 
 But, in the words of Him Whom you adore, 
 
 Say to the penitent, " Go, sin no more." 
 
 ON THE DEPAETUEE OE THE MIS- 
 SIONAEY SHIP "JOHN WILLIAMS." 
 
 Once more we send our vessel forth, 
 God's servants and His Word to bear ; 
 
 That those who know Him not as yet, 
 May in His great salvation share. 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 109 
 
 But we can scarcely say " our ship," 
 For we have given her to the Lord, 
 
 To bear, not earth-train'd warriors forth, 
 But those who wield Emmanuel's sword. 
 
 Our grateful hearts would render praise, 
 To Him "Who oft has sped her way, 
 
 To distant lands, where heathen night 
 Has given place to gospel day. 
 
 O ye beloved youth, who give 
 
 Your mite to our Bedeemer's cause, 
 
 Surrender, too, your hearts to Him, 
 Who satisfied His Father's laws. 
 
 You give to Jesus cheerfully, 
 Then earnestly and humbly pray 
 
 For His renewing grace, lest one 
 Of you should prove a castaway. 
 
 Then, when the ship returns again, 
 
 May some of you go out to tell 
 Of that dear Saviour Who has bled, 
 
 To save our deathless souls from hell. 
 
 And now, God speed His messengers, 
 Who go, the Gospel to proclaim ; 
 
 Bring many souls to Zion's Hill, 
 And magnify His glorious name. 
 
110 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 May our Emmanuel's name resound, 
 To every land, however far ; 
 
 As Sharon's Rose, sweet fragrance shed, 
 And gild the skies as Jacob's star. 
 
 SABBATH SCHOOL ANNIVERSARY 
 HYMN. 
 
 Now in days of youthful gladness, 
 
 Spread our sails and heavenward steer ; 
 
 We the sailors, Christ the Pilot, 
 'Neath His eye we need not fear. 
 
 Chorus. 
 Turn to the Lord in youth's fair morning, 
 
 Seek His grace, and trust His love, 
 Then we '11 reign with Him for ever, 
 
 In our Father's home above. 
 
 What, though storms should ride the billow, 
 What, though gales blow loud and shrill, 
 
 Christ is there, in His good pleasure 
 He will whisper " Peace, be still." 
 
 Have we not commenced our journey ? 
 
 Let us linger then no more ; 
 Fly to Christ, the loving Saviour, 
 
 He will pay our passage o'er. 
 
 He His precious blood has given, 
 He has borne the cross and shame, 
 
 That we might, with joy and gladness, 
 Have redemption through His name. 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. Ill 
 
 Then, when all life's storms are over, 
 
 We shall reach our port of rest ; 
 Every lamb shall find a refuge 
 
 On its gentle Shepherd's breast. 
 
 Oh, what joy shall fill our spirits 
 When around His throne we meet, 
 
 Teachers, children, all united, 
 Dwelling at the Saviour's feet ! 
 
 ON THE DEATH OF AN INFANT. 
 
 His dying head was gently laid 
 
 Upon his mother's breast, 
 And, circled by her loving arms, 
 
 He calmly sank to rest. 
 
 Her mortal eyes saw only Death, 
 The monster stern and grim, 
 
 But when the last long gasp was drawn, 
 Angels were seen by him. 
 
 And who shall say that e'en before 
 
 Life's ebbing tide ran out, 
 He did not see those ministers 
 
 Compassing him about ? 
 
 Perchance the Saviour, too, was there, 
 His trembling lamb to cheer, 
 
 And point to heaven, that bright abode 
 To which he was so near. 
 
112 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 Mount, infant cherub, spread thy wings, 
 
 And soar from earth away 
 To heaven thy home, where angels sing 
 
 In realms of cloudless day. 
 
 O Christian mother, dry thy tears, 
 Look up, and weep no more ; 
 
 Thy angel-boy is safe for aye, 
 " Not lost, but gone before." 
 
 And when thy dying hour shall come, 
 
 We cannot say but he 
 May he among the foremost ones 
 
 Waiting to welcome thee. 
 
 No sin nor sorrow evermore 
 
 His spirit shall molest ; 
 The weary dove has winged its way 
 
 Home to the Saviour's breast. 
 
 From all the coming ills of earth, 
 From all its sinful charms, 
 
 The angel-child is shielded now 
 Within its Saviour's arms. 
 
 And we, whom he has left behind, 
 
 Will follow him anon ; 
 And while on earth our word shall be, 
 
 " Forward ! For life press on ! " 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 113 
 
 EPAPHRODITUS. 
 
 Philippians ii. 25 — 30. 
 
 The orb of day had sunk beneath the west, 
 And sleeping in each green and mossy nest, 
 The feather' d songsters of the grove were laid, 
 Folded each wing, and bent each downy head. 
 
 Soft shed the gentle moon her placid ray, 
 Sweet pour'd the nightingale her plaintive lay, 
 Calm shone the silver stars in heaven serene, 
 Without a single cloud to intervene. 
 
 But, hark ! What soul-arresting sounds are these, 
 Borne like an echo on the evening breeze ? 
 Lo, in the house of God a little band, 
 Entreating blessings at their Father's hand. 
 
 One stood within their midst who wore no frown, 
 His brow encircled with a glitt'ring crown, 
 All set with gems and pearls of purest blaze, 
 Far brighter than the sun's material rays. 
 
 But strange ! That diadem's translucent light 
 Made not its wearer seem more royally bright ; 
 But rather did those wondrous jewels' sheen 
 Borrow their splendour from His eye serene. 
 
 I 
 
114 . MISCELLAlTEOTrS POEMS. 
 
 Upon His hand a signet ring He wore, 
 And next His heart a golden tablet bore ; 
 While on His brow of conscious majesty 
 Were tokens of a hard-won victory. 
 
 Though lion-like in majesty His mien, 
 The feeblest one could scarcely fear to lean 
 Upon His breast, for as you look'd again, 
 He seem'd to be a Lamb which had been slain. 
 
 With looks of smiling love He waited there, 
 To hear the eamestly-aseendia g prayer ; 
 Then bent Himself before the em'rald throne, 
 Presenting each petition as His own. 
 
 A moment more, and seraphs wingM their way 
 To where a saint almost expiring lay ; 
 The prayer of faith avail'd to bring him back, 
 And stay his spirit's heavenward, homeward track. 
 
 Close to his side the King of Terrors press'd, 
 Panting to sheathe his arrow in his breast ; 
 Though yet compell'd to wait Heaven's dread com- 
 mand, 
 Ere he could raise his all-destroying hand. 
 
 But guardian angels 'neath their Captain's eye, 
 Forced the grim King of Terrors quick to fly ; 
 Then pillowing His disciple on His breast, 
 Christ bade him longer wait his promised rest. 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 115 
 
 Then take your brother, praying friends, as given 
 Back from the grave by Christ, the King of heaven ; 
 Toward the skies your grateful hearts uplift, 
 And ne'er forget the Giver in the gift. 
 
 And when, with rapt'rous joy, you see once more 
 Your brother mingling with you as before ; 
 Think but for this, and every blessing given, 
 The dear Redeemer's sacred side was riv'n. 
 
 For every joy of yours he bore a pang, 
 When on the shameful cross he deign'd to hang, 
 Up then, beyond the clear cerulean skies, 
 Let the thanksgivings of your hearts arise. 
 
 Back, brother, to the battle-field of life ! 
 You must not yet repose from earthly strife ; 
 For God, the Saviour, yet hath work for thee, 
 That so, at last, thy crown may brighter be. 
 
 Some babes in Christ still need thy guiding hand, 
 To help them on to heaven, their fatherland ; 
 And many little souls as yet ungiven, 
 It may be thine to lead to Christ and heav'n. 
 
 Sunk deep in woe is many an aching heart, 
 Perhaps to soothe and cheer may be thy part ; 
 And thine to drop sweet Gilead's healing balm, 
 Which every wound can close, each sorrow calm. 
 
116 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 With ardour, then, dear brother, onward go, 
 Pursuing still your pilgrimage below ; 
 Let one hand wield the sword, count earth but dross, 
 And with the other clasp the blood-stained cross. , 
 
 And when you come again each Sabbath day, 
 To teach the little ones of Christ the way ; 
 Or when, again, before the Church and world, 
 By you the sacred banner is unfurl'd ; 
 
 Then, while you strive our Saviour to reveal, 
 Yourself behind his glorious cross conceal; 
 So that, still mounting with celestial fire, 
 You may, when call'd, in Jesus' arms expire. 
 
 For ever with the Lord, His love to share, 
 
 And soon your friends on earth shall join you there ; 
 
 Throughout eternity, with joy to sing 
 
 Praise to the dear Emmanuel, our King. 
 
 TO A CHRISTIAN IN ADVERSITY. 
 
 The clouds are dark around thee, 
 
 Heavy, and thick, and black, 
 No opening in their foldings, 
 
 For sunbeams' joyous track ; 
 What use to look for sunbeams ? 
 
 Each glance but seeth clouds, 
 And the ghosts of oherish'd treasures, 
 
 Robed in funereal shrouds. 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 117 
 
 Each sigh of bursting heart-strings 
 
 But brings an echoing sigh, 
 Each scalding tear of sorrow 
 
 But dims another's eye ; 
 And the anguish'd spirit's writhing 
 
 But opens deeper woes, 
 Till the bleeding heart lies struggling 
 
 On the brink of life's sad close. 
 
 So seeth mortal vision, 
 
 And the soul entomb'd in clay ; 
 But oh, what seeth Jesus 
 
 Of all our dire dismay ! 
 He knoweth all, and watcheth 
 
 That dreadful furnace-light ; 
 He trieth precious silver, 
 
 And He will make it bright. 
 
 Thou art that precious metal, 
 
 Tear not to suffer loss ; 
 Thou art dear to the Refiner, 
 
 Eor He never trieth dross ; 
 He watcheth for His image, 
 
 The reflection of His face, 
 And He will cool the furnace, 
 
 When He those lines can trace. 
 
 What sees our tender Father ? 
 
 His child so fondly dear, 
 Laid at His feet in ashes, 
 
 In penitential fear ; 
 
118 MISCELIiAHEOTS POEMS. 
 
 Smarting with crushing terror, 
 Beneath affliction's touch ; 
 
 But whom the Father chasteneth, 
 Be sure he loveth much. 
 
 E'en now His arm is round Thee, 
 
 Clasp thou thy Father's hand, 
 And walk, though now in darkness, 
 
 Till thou shalt understand ; 
 Soon will the clouds pass o'er thee, 
 
 Soon shall His love-light glow, 
 And clear upon the shadows 
 
 Shall gleam His cov'nant bow. 
 
 He who once wept with Mary, 
 
 "Weeps, surely, now with thee ; 
 And a glorious day is coming, 
 
 When all darkness light shall be ; 
 Oh, lean on Jesus' bosom, 
 
 And each deep quivering sob 
 Shall be answer'd by thy Saviour 
 
 In a heart-responding throb. 
 
 Take courage, then, dear brother, 
 
 Thou art not solely tried, 
 But the griefs which rend thy bosom 
 
 Crush other hearts beside ; 
 And thy wasting weight of sorrow, 
 
 Thy soul-corroding cares 
 Find many a trembling echo, 
 
 In love's deep, clinging prayers. 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 119 
 
 Oh, eouldst thou but look onwards 
 
 To the temple of thy God, 
 To th' election-roll of heaven, 
 
 Engraved with Jesus' blood ; 
 Couldst thou see thy name thrice written, 
 
 Thine and thy children's there, 
 Wouldst thou not feel encouraged 
 
 Continuing in prayer ? 
 
 Yes, thine the gemm'd coronal, 
 
 For those on earth most riven, 
 Shall shine the more resplendent 
 
 In the galaxy of heaven ; 
 He whose great heart on Calvary 
 
 Throbb'd out its life for thee, 
 "Will lead thee out of trouble, 
 
 If thou wilt faithful be. 
 
 Look forward to the glory, 
 
 The unshadow'd light of home, 
 Which thou, ere long, shall enter, 
 
 At Thy bless'd Saviour's " Come ; " 
 Then when, with those thou lovest, 
 
 Thou shalt dwell all purely bright, 
 Thou wilt speak of long-ceased anguish, 
 
 And say, He order'd right. 
 
120 MISCELIiAtfEOTJS POEMS. 
 
 " FEAR NOT, FOE I AM WITH THEE.' 
 
 Feab not, though hillows rudely dash, 
 
 And boisterous winds increase, 
 Though thunders roll with deafening crash, 
 And lightnings send their blinding flash ; 
 
 In Jesus there is peace. 
 
 Fear not amid affliction's fire, 
 
 When earthly joys decrease ; 
 Though time-born comforts all expire, 
 Thy Saviour only draws the nigher, 
 
 And with Him must be peace. 
 
 Oh, fain the aching heart would cling 
 
 To some fond earthly bliss, 
 And twine around that cherish'd thing, 
 Forgetful of the heaven-taught wing, 
 
 That upwards soars for peace. 
 
 But strong is love when born of grief, 
 
 When sorrows fast increase ; 
 And thus, that Christ may be the chief, 
 He takes away all earth's relief, 
 
 And so is all thy peace. 
 
 And if the presence of His love 
 
 Seems for awhile to cease, 
 Still thank His name enshrined above, 
 That He has taught thy heart to prove, 
 
 Without Him is no peace. 
 
MISCELLAOTIOTJS POEMS. 121 
 
 And when His voice shall bid thee higher, 
 
 And give thy soul's release, 
 Then shalt thou join yon waiting choir, 
 And joyful strike the golden wire 
 
 In Jesus' home of peace. 
 
 TO A WIDOWED MOTHER. 
 
 His golden howl is broken, 
 
 And loosed his silver cord ; 
 He, absent from the body, 
 
 Is present with the Lord ; 
 All earthly pain is over, 
 
 He rests in heavenly calm, 
 For there is no more sickness 
 
 In the land of Gilead's balm. 
 
 Oh, faithful mourning spirit, 
 
 Weep not in hopeless grief, 
 For the hour that wrote thee widow, 
 
 Was his time of sweet relief; 
 As he slept, an angel linger'd, 
 
 To gaze upon the 'clay, 
 While his fellow-servants carried 
 
 The precious soul away. 
 
 He linger'd till his brightness 
 The countenance had caught, 
 
 Till holy smiles were graven, 
 
 With heaven's calm sweetness fraught. 
 
122 2 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 And thou art not forsaken, 
 For God hath left thee some, 
 
 To lighten with their love-beams 
 The shadows of thy home. 
 
 If one bright pinion'd spirit 
 
 Has left thy clasping hand, 
 To join the hallelujahs 
 
 Of yon celestial band ; 
 Still is another spared thee, 
 
 Whose youth's first love is thine, 
 Round whom the sever'd tendrils 
 
 Of thy wounded heart may twine. 
 
 Has thy Elijah mounted 
 
 In heaven's own flaming car, 
 To dwell beneath the radiance 
 
 Of Jacob's morning star ? 
 And as the vision faded, 
 
 Didst thou whisper, " Ichabod, 
 The glory is departed 
 
 From the temple of my God" ? 
 
 Oh, say not so, loved mourner, 
 
 Take courage yet again, 
 Let thy Elisha echo 
 
 Thy lost Elijah's strain ; 
 Life yet for thee has pleasures, 
 
 Though not the bliss of yore, 
 Wait yet a little longer, 
 
 To meet the gone before. 
 
MISCEILAITEOTJS POEMS. 123 
 
 Then him whom thou hast cherish'd, 
 
 With woman's faithful lore, 
 Thou shalt meet in yonder city 
 
 Of God's firstborn sons above ; 
 For thy maiden love was plighted, 
 
 And the plighted troth was kept, 
 In clinging, earnest watching, 
 
 Until in Christ he slept. _ 
 
 Oh, Death can never sever 
 
 The love of hearts entwined ; 
 Love's vows are writ in heaven, 
 
 Graved on the eternal Mind ; 
 Saved by the blood of Jesus, 
 
 Reunion shall be given, 
 And thy angel-love shall meet thee 
 
 At the pearly gates of heaven. 
 
 "LOOK UNTO ME, AND BE YE SAVED." 
 
 The shades of evening fast were gathering round, 
 The softly falling dew-drops steeped the ground, 
 Slowly the glorious sun's last golden ray 
 Behind the western hills had died away. 
 
 And as the deepening twilight deeper grew, 
 A vision seem'd presented to my view ; 
 Beside a dying bed methought I stood,— 
 Beside a soul about to cross the flood. 
 
124 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 Still lay the form, almost as still as death, 
 But for the heaving of the labouring breath ; 
 The fever's heat was gone, but with the day 
 That stream of life was ebbing fast away. 
 
 The eyes were closed ; no dying look was given, 
 To tell us if the soul were bound for heaven : 
 But though the body seem'd so faint and low, 
 The spirit's eyes were open upon woe. 
 
 For as still thinner grew the fleshly veil, 
 Prospects appear'd which made that spirit quail, 
 She view'd the horrid dwellings of the lost, 
 The wretched souls on flaming billows toss'd. 
 
 She heard the groans and shrieks of dark despair, 
 Borne from the pit upon the sulphurous air, 
 And from the confines of th' infernal smoke 
 A host of fiends with hellish gestures broke. 
 
 The startled soul shrank backwards with a shriek, 
 Where could she look, or where a refuge seek ? 
 The fiends still closer, and yet closer came, 
 On wings of blackest hue, with eyes of flame. 
 
 When lo ! they stopp'd with looks of fearful awe, 
 As though some dread supreme on high they saw ; 
 And while they paused, the spirit look'd around, 
 To see if now some refuge might be found.. 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 125 
 
 A glorious angel caught her anxious eye, 
 But ah, he seemed to pass her coldly by ; 
 Another and another nearer drew, 
 Until a shining host appeared in view. 
 
 They also paused, as though they waited still, 
 Some word or signal from the eternal hill ; 
 And while they waited, all the hosts above, 
 Looked down with anxious eyes of heavenly love. 
 
 Oh, would their Lord that trembling soul redeem, 
 And shed upon it love's all-glorious beam ? 
 Oh, would He bid it from earth's trammels rise, 
 To dwell with Him for ever in the skies ? 
 
 Heaven's music hushes, while the angels bend, 
 To watch another sun-bright form descend, 
 With more than regal grandeur in His mien, 
 He who, of old, on earth as man was seen. 
 
 Oh, will that passing soul but look with faith, 
 E'en now within the very grasp of Death, 
 She may, with joy, her gracious Saviour own, 
 And fly with Him to yon celestial throne. 
 
 The cherubs long to tune their harps again, 
 
 To sing the advent of a soul from pain ; 
 
 The fair addition of another gem 
 
 To His bright crown who rules in love o'er them. 
 
126 MISCELLAITEOTrs POEMS. 
 
 Enveloped in a lustrous cloudy wreath, 
 Their Captain joined the waiting hosts beneath ; 
 The fiends retreated from that wrathful eye, 
 And left the spirit just about to fly. 
 
 She turned her gaze upon the bleeding Lamb, 
 He, smiling, softly called her by her name ; 
 No strength had she to speak, one look supplied 
 Life to the spirit, ere the body died. 
 
 'Twas thus, when Moses raised, in days of yore, 
 The brazen serpent, those who, wounded sore, 
 Possess'd no strength for healing aid to pray, 
 Had but to look, and live, and go their way. 
 
 This vision I shall carry unto death, 
 And when I draw the last expiring breath, 
 And see the world receding from my view, 
 I'd wake in heaven, and find my vision true. 
 
 TO A YOUNG LADY ON HEE 
 MAEEIAGE 
 
 'Mid the softly falling blossoms 
 Of the graceful orange-tree, 
 Making music on the heart-strings, 
 
 Notes of sweetest melody ; 
 Lo ! I come, my lyre attuning 
 
 To the hour's full joyous tide, 
 Wishing every earthly, heavenly, 
 
 Lasting blessing to our bride. 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 127 
 
 Long, long may the sword of sorrow 
 
 Best in peace within its sheath, 
 And the richly-blooming heart's-ease 
 
 Twine around the bridal wreath ; 
 Beauteous roses, joy's bright emblem, 
 
 Shedding round their floral pride, 
 Mignonette its fragrance lending, 
 
 Join to crown our gentle bride. 
 
 And may he who wins our darling, 
 
 Worthy of the treasure prove, 
 Worthy of her high-toned spirit, 
 
 Worthy of her fervent love ; 
 Love so earnest that it makes her 
 
 Quit a tender mother's side, 
 Leave her patriarchal father, 
 
 That she may become his bride; 
 
 Say " Adieu ! " to loving sisters, 
 
 Fondly press the farewell kiss, 
 Take her brothers' parting blessing, 
 
 In his love to find her bliss ; 
 So she leaves her home of childhood, 
 
 With her heart's own chosen guide, 
 Shield, oh, shield her then from sorrow ; 
 
 Guard with care your long-loved bride. 
 
 One in aim, one heart, and spirit, 
 
 One in hope of endless peace, 
 Through the dear Redeemer's merit, 
 Heirs to joys that never cease ; 
 
128 MISCEIiLATTEOTTS POEMS. 
 
 Those who here have loved and trusted, 
 Walk'd earth's mazes side by side, 
 
 Surely there shall love more deeply 
 Than the bridegroom and the bride. 
 
 Thus in love's strong bonds united, 
 
 Each to other shall belong, 
 When the resurrection angels 
 
 Join to chant your deathless song ; 
 Where the streams of holy gladness 
 
 Flow in full unbroken tide, 
 Where the Lamb, once slain, shall welcome 
 
 Home his Church, his purchased bride. 
 
 ON THE DEATH OF A YOUNG LADY 
 SOON AFTEE HEE SISTEE'S MAB- 
 EIAGE. 
 
 Scabce had the earthly bridal 
 
 The sister's fond heart riven, 
 When by her own Royal Bridegroom 
 
 The trumpet call was given, 
 That she might soon consummate 
 
 Her plighted troth with Heaven. 
 
 Long had her Saviour kept her, 
 And marked her for His own ; 
 
 And now from earth's beloved 
 Call'd back the precious loan ; 
 
 And so to Jesus' bosom 
 The timid dove has flown. 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 129 
 
 There, from all sorrow shielded, 
 
 Will her meek spirit rest, 
 Nor wave of dark temptation 
 
 Upheave its darkling crest, 
 Nor aching heart's wild throbbing 
 
 Disturb her gentle breast. 
 
 Ours is the wreath of cypress, 
 
 But hers the crown of gold ; 
 We wander in the desert, 
 
 She rests within the fold : 
 "lis not her soul that sleepeth 
 
 Within the soft green mould. 
 
 We mourn not without hoping ; 
 
 She is not far away, 
 She has but pass'd the eurtain 
 
 Which hides celestial day ; 
 And oft, perchance, beside us, 
 
 She walks in heaven's array. 
 
 Hers is bright victory's palm-branch, 
 
 And hers the white attire ; 
 She wears the crown of glory, 
 
 And sweeps the love-strung lyre, 
 Chanting the praise of Jesus, 
 
 Her spirit's sole desire. 
 
 Not dead to those who miss her, — 
 Love cannot, shall not die ; 
 
 K 
 
130 MISCELLANEOTS POEMS. 
 
 Dead to earth's sins and sorrows, 
 But to her loved ones nigh ; 
 
 And soon they all shall join her, 
 Amid the choir on high. 
 
 " There shall be no more crying," 
 Where she for ever dwells, 
 
 Where from the crystal fountain, 
 Life's stream all blissful wells, 
 
 Where through the golden arches 
 Heaven's echoing music swells. 
 
 God sees the fond heart's rending, 
 He hears the struggling sigh, 
 
 For His ear is ever open 
 
 To His loved ones' faintest cry, 
 
 And soon each burning tear-drop 
 His loving hand will dry. 
 
 Bereaved, heart-broken mourners, 
 For you her prayers have striven, 
 
 That in the hour of sorrow 
 
 Strength might to you be given ; 
 
 Weep not ; a jewel you've added 
 To the regalia of heaven. 
 
 'Tis a gentle lamb's enfolding, 
 Safe in its Shepherd's breast ; 
 
 A weary dove flown homewards 
 To the land of nightless rest ; 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 131 
 
 A lovely star of even 
 Sunk in the shaded west. 
 
 'Tis Heaven's own fair exotic, 
 
 A bud of Paradise, 
 While yet in half-blown beauty, 
 
 Transplanted to the skies, 
 In its native soil to flourish, 
 
 Where its freshness never dies. 
 
 On earth God's wing o'ershadow'd 
 
 His lovely chosen prize, 
 So beam'd celestial lustre 
 
 From out her soft meek eyes ; 
 While, as on eagle's plumage, 
 
 Her spirit seem'd to rise. 
 
 She aye was looking upwards, 
 
 Not down on tinsell'd dross ; 
 In vain for that pure spirit, 
 
 Did earth wear gayest gloss ; 
 Her love and hopes were centered 
 
 All in the crunson'd cross. 
 
 And she being dead yet speaketh, — 
 " Keep close " to Him who died ; 
 
 And so our spirits walking 
 On earth at Jesus' side, 
 
 Shall rise at last to glory, 
 
 The Lamb's unspotted bride. 
 
 s2 
 
132 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 "IT IS I." 
 
 When all is dark, and not one spark 
 
 Of light gleams on our way, 
 When heavy clouds, like death's cold shrouds, 
 
 Enwrap the orb of day ; 
 'Mid thunder's crash and lightning's flash, 
 
 And wind's wild, horrid roar, 
 A voice shall fall, like spirit-call, — 
 
 " trembler, fear no more ! " 
 Through cold and drift our hearts we lift 
 
 Up to the darken'd sky, 
 While soft and low these accents flow, 
 
 " Fear not, for it is I." 
 
 gaze and see on yonder tree, 
 
 A glorious Sufferer bleeds ; 
 His precious blood bedews the road 
 
 That up to Zion leads ; 
 His life He gave His foes to save 
 
 From everlasting pain, 
 Eesigh'd His breath to chilling death, 
 
 Their Paradise to gain. 
 Then shall we fear, if He is near, 
 
 Who did so nobly, die ? 
 Though rough the road, it leads to God, 
 
 Who whispers, " It is I." 
 
 And when at last, life's journey past, 
 We stand on Jordan's shore, 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 133 
 
 We will not dread its gloomy bed, 
 
 For Christ will bear us o'er ; 
 And when we feel its waters chill, 
 
 His arm shall clasp around, 
 And on His breast we '11 calmly rest, 
 
 For there our strength is found ; 
 And as we sink beneath the brink, 
 
 We still shall find Him nigh, 
 And hear that word like music's chord, 
 
 " Fear not, for it is I." 
 
 SONNET. 
 
 MOTTBir, Albion, for the Almighty God hath spoken, 
 
 And call'd away the Consort of our Throne : 
 Mourn for the holy tie so quickly broken, 
 
 The laurels thus so sadly, darkly strown. 
 Weep for the widow, join her plaintive wailing, 
 
 Let not her sorrow's river flow alone ; 
 Dark looms the future, and her spirit quailing, 
 
 Utters her bitter griefs-despairing moan. 
 May all the comforts of the cross be shower'd 
 
 Upon that breaking heart of lonely woe : 
 And by the heavenly unction thus impower'd, 
 
 May our loved Queen her faith in Jesus show ; 
 And when her earthly crown shall fade away, 
 
 Join Albert wreathed in everlasting day. 
 
134 MISCJEILANEOTTS POEMS. 
 
 THOU CALL'DST ME THINE. 
 
 Thott call'dst me Thine 
 Long ere the sapphire canopy was spread, 
 Long ere Thou bidd'st the sun his splendours shed, 
 Ere earth's green valleys sway'd beneath Thy tread ; 
 Before the morning stars in peans high, 
 Shook the blue vault with chorus'd melody, 
 And floated song across the trembling sky ; 
 Nay, earlier still ! Long, countless ages back, 
 Ere angel or archangel swept his track 
 On snowy wing o'er the chaotic black ; 
 Or o'er the sea of glass to do Thy will, 
 Ere cherub lips could stately anthems trill, 
 
 Thou call'dst me Thine. 
 
 Thou call'dst me Thine ! 
 When the unwitness'd lofty Infinite, 
 Thou satt'st amid the curtains of the light, 
 Only with Thine own matchless being dight ; 
 When in Thy pure, great Self Thou reign'dst alone, 
 In grand, deep solitude upon Thy throne, 
 With no adoring host Thy power to own ; 
 Ere the Eternal City's golden pave 
 Echoed a seraph's step, or yon bright wave 
 Toss'd its clear spray the ethereal limbs to lave, 
 Ere golden harp or silver lyre were strung, 
 Or lip created had Thy praises sung, 
 
 Thou call'dst me Thine. 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 135 
 
 Thou eall'dst me Thine ! 
 On blood-steep'd Calvary, mount of hitter woe, 
 Where ope'd the deep red fount which still doth flow, 
 When men and angels saw thy last death-throe ; 
 When Thine unfathomable mighty heart, 
 Which yearn'd with love to take the sinner's part, 
 Sheathed in its own rich depths the spoiler's dart ; 
 When from thy dying lips the murmur fell, 
 " Father, forgive them ; let it all be well ! " 
 When "It is finish'd" rose with mighty swell; 
 Then, by the anguish of that hitter hour, 
 Purchasing me an everlasting dower, 
 
 Thou eall'dst me Thine ! 
 
 Thou eall'dst me Thine! 
 Before I sought Thee for my Shield and King, 
 When I was bound to every earthly thing, 
 Nov sought the refuge of Thy sheltering wing ; 
 Then sounded Thy soft whisper in mine ear, 
 In tones of heavenly music, sweetly clear, 
 Telling me that my soul to Thee was dear ; 
 Moved by the magic of that thrilling tone, 
 Sway'd by that mighty depth of love unknown, 
 I gladly yielded, and became Thine own. 
 And so my soul became the bride of Heaven ; 
 For, strengthen' d, sanctified, beloved, forgiven, 
 
 Thou eall'dst me Thine 
 
 Thou eall'dst me Thine! 
 When happiness around me gaily beam'd, 
 When of a flower-strew'd path I fondly dream' d, 
 When the fair sky of life unclouded seem'd ; 
 
136 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 Then did'st Thou whisper gently, " Rest not here ; 
 Cling not to earthly things, however dear; 
 Dash from thy lips joy's cup, though sparkling clear, 
 If that it draws thy yielded heart from Me ; 
 Suffer not earth-wove cords to trammel thee ; — 
 Seek not these tinsell'd baubles ! Yonder see 
 Thy victor crown, with many a jewel bright, 
 Prepared for thee in My own home of light,, 
 
 For thou art Mine ! " 
 
 Thou call'dst me Thine ! 
 When folded in the spirit-quelling gloom 
 Of mighty sorrows, blacker than the tomb, 
 When all soul-bitterness appear'd my doom ; 
 Then did'st Thou say I should not suffer loss, 
 For trial would but purge away my dross, 
 And bidd'st me follow Thee, and bear Thy cross ; 
 Then did'st Thou promise never to forsake, 
 Never the bending, bruised reed to break ; 
 And reaching forth Thy comforts bidd'st me take ; 
 And so, upheld by Thee, I lived again, 
 For, 'midst the anguish of that bitter pain, 
 
 Thou call'dst me Thine ! 
 
 Thou call'dst me Thine ! 
 Then, Saviour, hold my trembling spirit fast, 
 Till all the snares and woes of earth are past. 
 Give me to reach my Father's home at last 
 Let me not leave Thee for earth's fading light ; 
 Let me not faint when round me folds the night, 
 O give me grace to know Thou doest right ; 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 137 
 
 And so, at last, O bring me to Thy side, 
 To rest amid Thy love's unbounded tide, 
 Where not a cloud can rise Thy face to hide ; 
 Till then enable me to do Thy will, 
 And in all times of grief to murmur still, 
 
 Thou call'dst me Thine! 
 
 TO THE MOTHEE OF A PEODIGAL. 
 Jeremiah xxxi. 15-17. 
 
 O gentle mother, weeping 
 
 For " Joseph, who is not," 
 Let angel hope still hover 
 
 Around thy clouded lot, 
 Until its full fruition 
 
 light np each darken'd spot. 
 
 The night of lonely weeping 
 
 Precedes the morn of joy, 
 When songs instead of sighing 
 
 Shall be thy heart's employ ; 
 And when thy fond embraces 
 
 Shall clasp thy wandering boy. 
 
 E'en now thy heart can follow 
 
 His wanderings unknown, 
 By the deep petitions offer'd 
 
 At God's eternal throne, 
 
138 MISOELLJJJEOTTS POEMS. 
 
 And trust, still looking upwards, 
 That light for thee is sown. 
 
 Oh, sad thy life and lonely, 
 Thy darling and thy pride 
 
 No longer in the homestead, 
 No longer at thy side ; 
 
 No word from him to lessen 
 Thy griefs dark, shoreless tide. 
 
 And when some form reminds thee 
 
 Of that to thee so dear, 
 To thy heart, with anguish throbbing, 
 
 Awhile it brings him near, 
 And then the fond illusion 
 
 But calls the bitter tear. 
 
 But every throb is number'd, 
 
 And counted every sigh, 
 Precious is every tear-drop 
 
 That dims thy sorrowing eye ; 
 For God, thy heavenly Father, 
 
 To His smitten child is nigh. 
 
 His chastening rod has brought thee 
 
 In mercy to His feet ; 
 And now the stroke continues, 
 
 For Heaven to make thee meet ; 
 And oh, at last He '11 give thee 
 
 Thy lost one there to greet. 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 139 
 
 His eye of love can follow 
 
 Thy wanderer o'er the main, 
 Can keep thy boy from danger, 
 
 And bring him back again, 
 To soothe thy aching bosom, 
 
 To chase thy heart's deep pain. 
 
 When he hears the restless music 
 
 Of the solemn, sobbing sea, 
 As it falls in low sweet cadence, 
 
 Like angels' minstrelsy, 
 Shall not each murmur echo 
 
 The prayers sent up by thee ? 
 
 When on the field of battle 
 
 He keeps the watch alone, 
 And in the midnight stillness 
 
 Hears but the wind's wild moan, 
 While round the camp-fire's embers 
 
 Are his sleeping comrades strown ; 
 
 When the moon in cloudless beauty, 
 
 Shines down all soft and clear, 
 And sheds her gentle radiance 
 
 On helmet and on spear, 
 Perchance God's still small whisper 
 
 May fall upon his ear. 
 
 For in the awful stillness, 
 The fires of memory lit, 
 
140 MISOEILAJSEOTJS POEMS. 
 
 Upon the past may glimmer, 
 And cause like ghosts to flit 
 
 Thoughts of that far-off mother, 
 To her boy so fondly knit. 
 
 When on the lofty mountain, 
 He pauses to behold 
 
 The sun in splendour sinking 
 Upon his couch of gold ; 
 
 While emerald, crimson, purple, 
 His glorious form enfold. 
 
 From out those glowing curtains 
 A voice shall seem to start, 
 
 " Oh, let such mellow sunset 
 Rest on thy mother's heart, 
 
 And let her life's dark shadows 
 At eventide depart." 
 
 The Father joys to welcome 
 The prodigal at home, 
 
 He bids, in melting accents, 
 Each trembling soul to come, 
 
 To rest upon His bosom, 
 And never more to roam. 
 
 The One who heal'd the sorrows 
 Of her who wept at Nain, 
 I Shall surely bring thy lost one 
 
 Back to thy arms again. 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 141 
 
 While angels in their gladness 
 Will join the sweet refrain. 
 
 Then hope still, gentle mother ; 
 
 Thy heart, so deeply riven, 
 Shall meet, at last, the wanderer, 
 
 For whom thy prayers .have striven ; 
 The blood-dyed steps of Jesus 
 
 Shall lead his soul to heaven. 
 
 While here in anguish pleading 
 
 Before our Father's throne, 
 That He would bless the erring, 
 
 And seal Him for His own, 
 Let this assurance comfort, — 
 
 Thou dost not plead alone. 
 
 Hope still, plead on, sweet mother ; 
 
 Thy prayers shall prove no loss, 
 But thou shalt see, when trial 
 
 Has purged away thy dross, 
 The prodigal returning, 
 
 A soldier of the Cross. 
 
 Perchance 'twill not be given 
 
 Thy boy on earth to meet, 
 But surely you shall see him 
 
 In yonder golden street, " 
 Where rest succeeding labour 
 
 Shall make that rest more sweet. 
 
142 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 Then, O Thou precious Jesus, 
 This drooping heart revive ; 
 
 Bring quickly home the erring, 
 And let the hour arrive, 
 
 When Thy child shall say, rejoicing, 
 " My son is yet alive ! " 
 
 ON SEEING A BEAUTIFUL INFANT IN 
 HEB MOTHEB'S AEMS 
 
 WHILE ON THAT MOTHER'S BOSOM WAS A POR- 
 TRAIT OF HER CHERUB BOY. 
 
 Not yet, not yet, sweet baby ; 
 
 Plume not thy angel wings, 
 Pant not to join the circle 
 
 Where thy cherub brother sings. 
 
 Stay yet a little longer 
 
 Amid the things of time ; 
 O flutter not, sweet nursling, 
 
 Those dizzy heights to climb ! 
 
 We cannot spare thee, baby, 
 
 Thou art so pure and fair ; 
 As yet, by sin untarnish'd, 
 
 As yet untouch'd by care. 
 
 Thou seemest not from earthward, 
 
 But a gentle blossom given, 
 To draw us to our Saviour, 
 
 To bind our hearts to heaven. 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 143 
 
 fear not, gentle mother, 
 
 He will surely spare you this ; 
 Not yet shall death's cold angel 
 
 That snow-pure forehead kiss. 
 
 God hath one bud transplanted, 
 
 To bloom before His throne ; 
 You have yielded up one darling, 
 
 To be the Saviour's own. 
 
 Look up, rejoice, sweet mother! 
 
 See yonder light-crown'd King ; 
 List to the silver anthem, 
 
 Which tiny seraphs sing. 
 
 They sing to Him who triumph'd 
 
 Upon the battle-mount, 
 There by His blood to open 
 
 A sin -atoning fount. 
 
 When e'en to death He wrestled 
 
 With all the might of hell, 
 And all its fury crushing, 
 
 Cried "Victory," as He fell: 
 
 Then rose again, in splendour, 
 To gain the Conqueror's crown ; 
 
 And reigns for ever glorious, 
 Our Warrior of renown. 
 
144 MISOBLLASEOIJS POEMS. 
 
 He who, in lofty vengeance, 
 Dash'd to eternal doom 
 
 That foe who sought to darken 
 His heaven's unsinking noon, 
 
 Looks loving on your blossoms, 
 
 And softly calls each name ; 
 For Judah's vengeful Lion 
 Is their atoning Lamb. 
 
 And where the victor's laurels 
 Droop proudly o'er his brow, 
 
 There is your sweet bud, mother, 
 Wreathing among them now ; 
 
 While there so softly twining 
 The forehead to adorn, 
 
 Which once for us was circled 
 With a coronet of thorn. 
 
 May your other lovely treasures 
 For many years be given, 
 
 Your earthly home to lighten 
 Before they bloom in heaven. 
 
 O land of bliss supernal ! 
 
 Your darling boy is there, 
 And your throbbing bosom, mother, 
 
 Doth an angel's portrait bear. 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 145 
 
 Though the aching heart will quiver 
 
 For what has gone before, 
 And the panting soul reach sadly 
 
 T'wards love that is no more ; 
 
 Yet He who soothes our sorrows, 
 Who weeps with those that weep, 
 
 Can charm away our sadness, 
 And lull our fears to sleep. 
 
 Not the little green-turf d tomblet, 
 But the ransom'd soul in heaven, 
 
 Not the last faint cry of anguish, 
 But the song of victory given. 
 
 Not that precious darling only, 
 
 Of which you are bereft, 
 But those other loves so priceless, 
 
 "Which are yet among us left. 
 
 And still, in every heart-throb, 
 
 May the mother's spirit thrill 
 To faith's all-trustful whisper, — 
 
 " Oh, Father, do Thy will ! " 
 
 'Mid every cloud of sorrow, 
 
 May all her weight of care 
 Be carried by her Saviour, 
 
 Who whispers, " I am there," 
 
146 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 And shield, oh, shield, sweet Saviour, 
 The mother's precious all, 
 
 And from Thy hand of power, 
 May only blessings fall. 
 
 Let them, in joy or sorrow, 
 To Thy loved refuge fly, 
 
 Who still art ever whispering, 
 " Fear not, for it is I." 
 
 TO A DYING YOUTH. 
 Son of iny' mother's friend, accept 
 
 A stranger's kindly wish for you, 
 That Christ may seal your spirit His, 
 
 Before you bid the world adieu. 
 
 It was for you that Jesus came, 
 
 For you He suffer'd, wept, andpray'd, 
 
 That you for His dear sake might be 
 A joyful heir of glory made. 
 
 For you the heavens were clouded o'er, 
 For you the Saviour sought the tomb ; 
 
 And on the resurrection morn, 
 For you He left its dreary gloom. 
 
 Yes, 'twas for this His blood was shed ; 
 
 For this He died, for this He rose ; 
 And now He waits, with gracious love, 
 
 His Spirit's witness to disclose. 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 147 
 
 Then trust at once in Jesus' name, 
 Oh, doubt no longer, fear no more : 
 
 He cannot turn your soul away, 
 Unpitied from His mercy's door. 
 
 You fain would feel yourself a child, 
 
 ho, 'tis the dimly-smoking flax ! 
 He will not quench, but fan the flame, 
 
 Until its glow shall brighter wax. 
 
 Low at His feet your spirit lies, 
 Behold the weak, the bruised reed ! 
 
 He will not break, but raise it up, 
 And graciously supply its need. 
 
 " I will not quench the smoking flax, 
 The bruised reed I will not break ! " 
 
 Oh, make this promise yours, and ask 
 The Father's smile, for Jesus' sake. 
 
 Go, and in humble, earnest faith, 
 To the dear cross of Christ repair ; 
 
 It is the Father's mercy-seat, 
 And you can never perish there. 
 
 What though your faith be faint and dim, 
 
 It is the weak that Jesus seeks ; 
 Oh, listen to His loving voice, 
 
 E'en now in tenderness He speaks, 
 
 l2 
 
148 MISCELIiAWEOITS POEMS. 
 
 Delay no longer, come at once, 
 
 And wrestle with the Man divine ; 
 
 Let not the struggling Angel go, 
 Until he seal each promise thine. 
 
 We never yet have met on earth, 
 
 But shall we meet in scenes more fair ? 
 
 I'm hound for heaven, my Father's home, 
 And trust one day to find you there. 
 
 SONNET. 
 Not my will, Father ! only what Thou wiliest. 
 
 Give me Thy work to do, Thy cross to bear ; 
 I can do all when Thou my spirit thrillest : 
 
 When Thy sweet whisper breathes, heaven's peace 
 is there. 
 Teach me to bend my heart in meek contrition, 
 
 Mould my proud will to yield in full submission ; 
 Let my whole soul beneath Thy life-word bending, 
 Constantly worship thee, still heavenward wending. 
 Guide me to do, or bear, as Thou seest meet, 
 
 To act with joy, or suffer silently ; 
 Train'd to obedience be my roving feet, 
 
 Walking the path all crimson -track'd by Thee ; 
 Till trial, probation, weary waiting cease, 
 My Saviour's voice shall whisper me to God's eternal 
 peace. 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 149 
 
 THEEE THE WICKED CEASE FEOM 
 TEOUBLING." 
 
 Saviour, in this world of sorrow, 
 
 See Thy blood-hought children stray ; 
 Guide, support them through the desert, 
 
 Till they reach heaven's glorious day. 
 In Thy home of holy gladness, 
 
 Bring us with Thee to be bless'd, 
 Whe^e the wicked cease from troubling, 
 
 And the weary are at rest. 
 
 Here we must sustain a conflict 
 
 "With the demon powers of hell ; 
 What those powers are, Thou knowest, 
 
 For on Thee their vengeance fell, 
 When Thou barest heavy sorrows, 
 
 That we might with heaven be bless'd ; 
 There the wicked cease from troubling, 
 
 And the weary are at rest. 
 
 Here we need Thy grace sustaining, 
 
 Grant it all our journey through ; 
 May our spirits soar as eagles, 
 
 And in Thee our strength renew : 
 When we reach yon glorious dwelling, 
 
 We shall be no more distress'd ; 
 There the wicked cease from troubling, 
 
 And the weary are at rest. 
 
150 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 O Thou dear, divine Eedeemer, 
 
 We would rest within Thy arms, 
 Leaving earthly sin and sorrow, 
 
 And mortality's vain charms. 
 In Thy bright and peaceful mansions 
 
 Foes can never more molest ; 
 There the wicked cease from troubling, 
 
 And the weary are at rest. 
 
 We have borne the heat and burden 
 
 Of this day of toil and woe, 
 But each grief shall be forgotten 
 
 In that land to which we go : 
 There no sinful thoughts can enter, 
 
 We shall be from earth undress'd, 
 Where the wicked cease from troubling, 
 
 And the weary are at rest. 
 
 We are weary of the conflict, 
 
 Weary of this constant strife, 
 But we must not flag or waver 
 
 On our way to endless life ; 
 Send Thy angels, Lord, to bear us, 
 
 In the time Thou seest best, 
 Where the wicked cease from troubling, 
 
 And the weary are at rest. 
 
 Then when time with us is over. 
 We will gladly soar from earth, 
 
 Where so wearily we wander, 
 Sojourners of heavenly birth ; 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 151 
 
 We will plume our wings angelic, 
 
 Flying to our Saviour's breast, 
 There the wicked cease from troubling, 
 
 And the weary are at rest. 
 
 THE WANDEKEK. 
 
 On the peaceful Sabbath morning, 
 
 We miss the face of one, 
 Who once with us was bending 
 
 Before the heavenly throne ; 
 He has left our grand Old England, 
 
 The island of the free, 
 And is now a lonely wanderer, 
 
 Far, far away at sea. 
 
 But we will not forget him, 
 
 Though far away he roams ; 
 We will think upon him often, 
 
 In our happy English homes ; 
 And when the morn dawns brightly, 
 
 And the lark sings merrily, 
 We will think upon the wanderer, 
 
 So far away at sea. 
 
 And when the louring tempest 
 
 Bursts loudly overhead, 
 And o'er the troubled heavens, 
 
 Black, massive clouds are spread ; 
 
152 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 And the oak-trees sway their branches, 
 
 And strike them heavily, 
 We will think upon the wanderer, 
 
 So far away at sea. 
 
 When in the winter evenings 
 
 We fill each social home, 
 We '11 not forget the sailor, 
 
 Upon the ocean's foam ; 
 For then we will remember, 
 
 How lonely he must be, — 
 A homeless, friendless wanderer, 
 
 So far away at sea. 
 
 And the loving Christian teacher, 
 
 Upon each Sabbath-day, 
 For his lost boy will remember, 
 
 Especially to pray; 
 To his we '11 join our pleadings, 
 
 For prayer 's heaven's golden key ; 
 So plead we for the wanderer, 
 
 So far away at sea. 
 
 Perchance those Sabbath teachings, 
 
 Oft listen'd to before, 
 May on the lonely ocean 
 
 Be thought upon the more ; 
 And the heart of faith can follow, 
 
 And the eye of faith can see 
 The far-off wanderer praying, 
 
 Upon the lonely sea. 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 153 
 
 We will never cease our strivings, 
 
 With the God who rules above, 
 That He may bless our lost one 
 
 With His redeeming love : 
 So when before His footstool, 
 
 We humbly bow the knee, 
 Then pray we for the wanderer 
 
 So far away at sea. 
 
 Then let our faith ne'er waver, 
 
 Nor let our hoping fail, 
 For if we plead with Jesus 
 
 We surely must prevail'. 
 He '11 be his Friend and Saviour ; 
 
 So our sailor-boy will be 
 No more a careless wanderer 
 
 Upon the lonely sea. 
 
 TO A YOUNG LADY ON HEE DEPAE- 
 TUEE TO AMEEICA. 
 
 Faeewell! But not for ever— no, 
 
 We hope to meet again, 
 Where separations never come, 
 
 To cause a single pain : 
 Where G-od Himself will wipe away 
 
 Each sorrow's tearful stain. 
 
154 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 But while we still are pilgrims here, 
 And through earth's desert roam, 
 
 I oft shall think of you, dear friend, 
 Par o'er the Atlantic foam, 
 
 And wish that we may meet at last, 
 Safe in our Father's home. 
 
 I'll ne'er forget you ; no, your name 
 
 Shall oft remembered be, 
 When to our Father's throne of grace 
 
 My spirit's whisperings flee. 
 And oh ! I ask that you in prayer 
 
 Will oft remember me. 
 
 And on the holy Sabbath-day, 
 
 Oh ! think on us in love, 
 And pray that God, the Comforter, 
 
 May on the waters move, 
 And lead our darling little ones 
 
 To fix their hearts above. 
 
 And we will think of you, who once 
 With us those loved ones taught, 
 
 How Jesus left His glorious throne, 
 And man's salvation wrought, 
 
 That every little seeking soul 
 To heaven might be brought. 
 
 Oh ! ne'er forget those youthful ones 
 For whom you here have striven, 
 
 Those whom your teachings never gained 
 May to your prayers be given ; 
 
MISCELlAlirEOTTS POEMS. 155 
 
 And so they all may meet at last, 
 With you, at home in heaven. 
 
 And should you lead Columbia's youth 
 
 To Him who bids them come, 
 Still let yoiir mind oft travel o'er 
 
 The ocean's heaving foam, 
 And think upon your first dear class 
 
 In this your English home. 
 
 And now I once more say, adieu ! 
 
 Be every blessing given 
 By Him whose sacred heart for us 
 
 On Calvary was riven ; 
 And if we never meet on earth, 
 
 Oh, may we meet in heaven. 
 
 WHERE YOUR TREASURE IS, THERE 
 WILL YOUR HEART BE ALSO." 
 
 A mothee sat at the cradle side, 
 And fondly gazed on her treasured pride, 
 While her voice kept time with the measured beat 
 Of the cradle roek'd by her willing feet. 
 
 So lull'd to sleep by that loving tone, 
 The baby^peacefully slumber' d on ; 
 And the mother's love made the sleeper seem 
 Like the faultless mould of a poet's dream. 
 
156 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 Those beaming eyes of such gentle love, 
 Were closed like lids of a wearied dove ; 
 While the rose-bud mouth, just half -parted, bore 
 The most lovely smile that e'er cherub wore. 
 
 And 'mid the joy that around her beam'd, 
 Eeside the cradle the mother dream'd ; 
 That cherubic treasure was all her own, 
 And her fancy view'd her a maiden grown ; 
 
 When Time, while making the child more fair, 
 Should touch the mother's dark,- glossy hair ; 
 And the furrow'd cheek and the sunken eye 
 Be the warning voice that she soon must die. 
 
 Then ere her soul should be call'd away, 
 She thought that her child had a stronger stay ; 
 And she saw that child at the altar bend, 
 By the side of one, her own chosen friend. 
 
 She heard the love of that strong, true heart, 
 All pledged to her " until death do part ; " 
 And the mother pictured a bright fireside, 
 And she dream'd her child was a happy bride. 
 
 But 'mid the mother's day-dream so bright, 
 When all the future seem'd bathed in light, 
 Lo ! a heavy cloud swept her visions o'er, 
 But a brighter joy to her babe it bore. 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 157 
 
 While softly, sweetly the haby slept, 
 The Archer close to the cradle crept, 
 And released the soul from its earthly clay, 
 Which the angels waited to hear away. 
 
 So cleansed each vestige of earthly stain, 
 By Christ the Lamb for her ransom slain, 
 The bright angels bore her to scenes of rest, 
 Where they laid her safe in the Saviour's breast. 
 
 Tread softly, then, for the mother weeps ; 
 Tread softly here, for the baby sleeps 
 On her cradle-pillows of spotless snow, 
 Never more a waking on earth to know. 
 
 But lift, O mother, thy weeping eyes, 
 And view thy treasure above the skies ; 
 While a link which bound thee to earth is riven, 
 A yet stronger tie draws thy soul to heaven. 
 
 There's One who regards the mourner's heart, 
 Who waits to wipe off the tears that start : 
 And with gentlest whispers of heavenly love, 
 He would kindly bind thee to things above. 
 
 The blood that wash'd her from every sin, 
 A spotless garment for thee can win ; 
 And the love that beckon'd her spirit home, 
 Is now sweetly bidding thy soul to come. 
 
158 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 Meantime, though earth may seem dark and lone, 
 The bright, loved light of thy life be gone ; 
 Yet, if trusting Him who has shed His blood, 
 There is built a mansion for thee with God. 
 
 The child thy love has so fondly watch'd, 
 Is but from sorrow and evil snatch'd ; 
 And though. not with thee, she is safer far, 
 'Neath the glorious light of the Morning Star. 
 
 And while so lonely amid the wild, 
 O father, think on thy angel-child ! 
 And thy spirit raise to the throne on high, 
 Where thy darling lives never more to die. 
 
 Then hand in hand with thy own true wife, 
 Press on to gain everlasting life ; 
 And together bend at the Saviour's throne, 
 That His blood may seal your hearts His own. 
 
 So, soon shall be the bright meeting-day, 
 When Jesus' voice bids your souls away ; 
 And the golden harps fill each heavenly street, 
 When you clasp your child at the Saviour's feet. 
 
MISCELLANEOTTS POEMS. 159 
 
 COME! 
 
 Wheee no mortal foot can enter, 
 Death and Sin no more have power, 
 
 Where no foe of bliss can venture, 
 Where no earthly tempests lour ; 
 
 There the ransom'd 
 Have their bright, eternal dower. 
 
 In that fair and cloudless region 
 Dwell a pure, immortal throng ; 
 
 Would you join that countless legion, 
 Swell the music of their song ? 
 
 Lo ! the Saviour 
 Kindly beckons us along. 
 
 Turn to Calvary's cloud-wrapp'd mountain, 
 See the bright cross-standard rise ; 
 
 Jesus dips it in the fountain, 
 
 Which His own life-blood supplies ; 
 
 Then exalting, 
 Bears it with Him to the skies. 
 
 Shrined in yonder dazzling heaven, 
 Purchased by a Saviour's blood, 
 
 There it waves, the signal given, 
 That our peace is made with God ; 
 
 Jesus' foot-prints, 
 Crimson foot-prints mark the road. 
 
160 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 Shall we not, then, seek that glory ? 
 
 Jesus sweetly whispers, " Come ! " 
 Angels long to hear the story 
 
 Of another child brought home ; 
 Jesus calls us ; 
 
 Fly from sin's eternal doom. 
 
 Join the full, celestial music, 
 
 Echoing from yon love-lit street ; 
 
 See ! those burning ranks cherubic 
 Wait our heavenward steps to greet ; 
 
 Crown and palm-branch 
 "We will cast at Jesus' feet. 
 
 PARAPHRASE OF A SERMON. 
 John i. 18. 
 
 High in the realms of cloudless day, 
 
 Where holy angels shine, 
 The mighty God of Israel dwelt, 
 
 In majesty divine, 
 And issued forth His flaming law 
 
 With many a shadowy sign ; 
 But ne'er descended from His throne, 
 To make His softer glories known. 
 
 But lo ! the co-eternal Son 
 
 For man's redemption came, 
 In Godhead with the Father one, 
 
 Distinct and yet the same. 
 
MISCELLANEOUS EOEltS. 161 
 
 And shed His blood that we might have 
 
 Salvation through His name ; 
 Here in the Saviour's life we see 
 The Godhead of humility. 
 
 He pass'd the palaces and powers, 
 
 And all the thrones of earth, 
 And chose a stable as the place 
 
 Of His descending birth ; 
 And so within a manger lay 
 
 That Pearl of priceless worth ; 
 Unknown, unheeded, and unsought, 
 Save by a few divinely taught. 
 
 But as that slowly dawning Light 
 
 Shed forth the blaze of day, 
 Beneath His all-absorbing beam 
 
 The day-star died away, 
 And bright the Sun of Righteousness 
 
 Shot His reviving ray ; 
 But though so glorious 'mid His own, 
 His nature was to them unknown. 
 
 He pass'd the haughty Pharisee 
 
 In all his learned pride, 
 And with the lowly publican. 
 
 The Lord would oft abide, 
 Nor ever bid a seeking soul 
 
 Depart, or stand aside ; 
 But often deign'd to be the Guest 
 Of humble sinners, whom He bless'd. 
 
162 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 Once when a woman sought His feet, 
 
 With penitential sighs, 
 And wash'd them with the tears that flow'd 
 
 From out her weeping eyes, 
 He drew not from her touch away, 
 
 Nor gave her harsh replies ; 
 But said, " Thy sins are all forgiven ; — 
 Go, daughter, thou hast peace with heaven." 
 
 Oh, how unlike the God that roll'd 
 
 In thunders through the sky, 
 Who for His chosen race of old 
 
 Made e'en the ocean dry ; 
 Then ruin'd Pharaoh and his host, 
 
 Who dared the Lord defy ; 
 Thus smiting with a mighty hand 
 Egyptia's proud, presumptuous band. 
 
 Oh, how unlike the God that dwelt 
 
 In Sinai's rock of flame, 
 Who did with awful majesty 
 
 His ancient law proclaim ; 
 Who 'mid the terrors of the mount 
 
 Made known His dreadful name ; 
 To whom none dared to venture near, 
 But listen'd to with quaking fear. 
 
 Unlike the God Isaiah saw, 
 
 With cherubs compass'd round, 
 
 Who veil'd their faces with their wings, 
 And bow'd with awe profound, 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 163 
 
 While the supreme and awful Lord, 
 They praised with solemn sound ; 
 This was the God of ancient days, 
 Eeveal'd amid dread Sinai's hlaze. 
 
 Stern was the God who gave the Law ; 
 
 But heavenly truth and grace, 
 In all their gentle loveliness, 
 
 Shone in the Saviour's face, 
 When from His glorious home He came, 
 
 To take the sinner's place ; 
 He laid aside His royal crown, 
 To bear for us the Father's frown. 
 
 Jehovah show'd His glories forth, 
 
 In orbs that stud the sky, 
 And we 'd have praised, if He for us 
 
 Had never come to die. 
 But had another being view'd 
 
 Our state with pitying eye, 
 If he for us his life had given, 
 Would not Sis love have been our heaven ? 
 
 But God Himself, the eternal Son, 
 
 Left the bright courts above, 
 Came hither that He might reveal 
 
 The Father's heart of love, 
 Then died upon the shameful cross, 
 
 That Father's grace to prove ; 
 Who but our God would thus have done ! 
 Who else have given his only son ! 
 
164 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 The Father mourns to see our souls 
 
 On life's wide ocean toss'd ; 
 His heart with tenderness and love 
 
 Yearns to bring home His lost, 
 To dwell for ever with the Lamb, 
 
 Whose life their ransom cost ; 
 "Who has pour'd out His own heart's blood, 
 To reconcile them to their God. 
 
 Who but the Saviour could have borne 
 
 A life without esteem ? 
 What other could have stood beneath 
 
 Oppression's constant stream, 
 And have been cursed from off the earth, 
 
 He came but to redeem ? 
 What other lips but His could say, 
 O Father, wash their guilt away ? 
 
 Through Jesus' death, our flesh, no more 
 
 A cottage made of clay, 
 May with resplendent lustre shine 
 
 In heaven's eternal day ; 
 For now, the temple of the Lord, 
 
 It never can decay ; 
 But bliss shall every temple fill, 
 Far on the everlasting hill : 
 
 There, through perfection's lovely mask, 
 
 We shall with rapture view 
 Those who were here on earth so dear, 
 
 And there our love renew ; 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 165 
 
 While God will shed His gracious smiles, 
 
 Like gently falling dew ; 
 When on that pure, eternal shore, 
 We and the Lamb shall part no more. 
 
 Then let our eyes for ever dwell 
 
 On the Redeemer's cross, 
 While for His sake we count it joy, 
 
 With Him to suffer loss, 
 And all the pomps and gold of earth 
 
 Would cast away as dross ; 
 While with deep praise our hearts we lift, 
 For this, our Father's priceless gift. 
 
 ON THE DEATH OF A SWEET SINGER 
 OF ISEAEL. 
 
 O lat her tenderly heneath the sod, 
 
 Within the narrow boundary of the grave ; 
 
 And o'er our sainted sister's lowly tomb, 
 
 There let the cypress and the laurel wave ; — 
 
 The cypress — emblem of the mourner's gloom ; — 
 
 The laurel — of her glory now with God, 
 
 High in the heaven of heavens with Jesus reigning, 
 
 Far from the echo of earth's last complaining. 
 
 Young, yet mature, she ran the Christian race, 
 While, with approving smile, her Lord look'd down, 
 And saw our sister swiftly reach the goal, 
 And lay her hand upon the promised crown, 
 
166 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 Then softly sigh away her heaven-home soul, 
 Commending it to our Eedeemer's grace : 
 Then think with joy, each one who lonely weepeth, 
 Your sister is not dead, hut sweetly sleepeth. 
 
 She sleeps in peace, all pain and sorrows o'er, 
 Bright guardian angels watch the sacred dust ; 
 And the soft music of their fluttering wings, 
 Sweet mingles with the wild wind's fitful gust ; 
 And low each seraph the pure requiem sings 
 Of her whom we shall see on earth no more. 
 Blow softly o'er that hallow'd tomb, ye breezes, 
 Your gentle moan the wailing mourner pleases. 
 
 Your whisper'd sighs, ye restless winds of heaven, 
 Seem like sweet sympathy to hearts of woe ; 
 "While o'er that last cold, narrow home they hend, 
 And weeping, think of her who lies below ; 
 Yet 'tis not she, our sister and our friend, 
 To whom that dewy resting-place is given ; — 
 'Tis but the lovely clay ; — her ransomed spirit 
 Stands now before the Throne, through Jesus' merit. 
 
 Then raise your hearts, ye stricken, to the skies, 
 And view her with the crown and palm-branch there ; 
 The glorious Victim on the altar bled, 
 That you that heaven of love with her might share. 
 Perchance it was for this her steps were led 
 So soon to leave this world of tears and sighs, 
 That, looking up to heaven for your treasure, 
 There might be all your heart and all your pleasure. 
 
MISCELLAITEOTJS POEMS. lt>7 
 
 And when each sacred day shall dawn serene, 
 And we send ap to God our songs of praise, 
 Our thoughts shall rise on music's towering wings, 
 To her who mingled in our earthly lays, 
 Who now with angels and archangels sings, 
 ArrayM in pure white robes of dazzling sheen ; 
 And fancy's ear would catch some notes of heaven, 
 To cheer the lonely hearts of mourners given. 
 
 With autumn's first sear'd leaves shedropp'dher clay 
 The short, bright summer of her life was o'er ; 
 Then leaving earth, she enter'd into rest — 
 The Promised Land, where sorrow is no more ; 
 There, in the righteousness of Jesus dress'd, 
 She dwells, for ever, in unfading day. 
 Farewell, sweet sister ! Music's solemn breathing 
 Shall be a coronet, thy memory wreathing. 
 
 THE DYING- BELIEVER 
 
 The shades of the valley around me' are closing, 
 The brink of the river of Jordan is near ; 
 
 But while on the bosom of Jesus reposing, 
 I must be secure ; then, why should I fear ? 
 
 Farewell ! — My beloved Bedeemer is calling, 
 With joy to His presence my spirit shall fly ; 
 
 The river is gloomy, but 'tis not appalling ; — 
 To go to my Saviour I gladly will die. 
 
168 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 How gently my spirit t'wards Jordan is gliding ! 
 
 Ah, now I have enterM, I feel the chill wave ; 
 But Jesus, my Saviour, each footstep is guiding, 
 
 Is with me to comfort, and with me to save. 
 
 My soul with His righteousness Jesus is covering ; 
 
 He whispers, " O be not afraid, it is I ! " 
 Bright welcoming angels around me are hovering, 
 
 And, " Blessing and honour to Jesus," they cry. 
 
 Farewell, earth's beloved ; my footsteps you'll follow, 
 And soon through the regions of Canaan will range. 
 
 Undecided one, listen ! O wait not to-morrow ; 
 Beyond this dark river there can be no change. 
 
 The waters of Jordan rise rapidly higher, 
 
 But Jesus has said that they shall not o'erflow ; 
 
 And now to sweet Canaan I'm fast drawing nigher, 
 That beautiful country whither I go. 
 
 Now Jordan is quitted, I've passed the dark river, 
 All glory to Him who has brought me safe through ; 
 
 To Jesus I'll sing hallelujah for ever, 
 And bid to all sin and all sorrow adieu. 
 
MISCELLANEOUS FOEMS. 1G& 
 
 LINES 
 
 SUNG BY SABBATH-SCHOOL CHILDREN TO THEIR 
 SUPERINTENDENT. 
 
 Peom yonder sun-bright throne, 
 Compass'd with rainbow zone, 
 
 Where Jesus reigns ; 
 Prom His own courts of light, 
 "With dazzling glories bright, 
 May heavenly gifts alight, 
 
 To bless John Keynes I 
 
 The children he has taught, 
 The wandering oft has sought, 
 
 In streets and lanes ; 
 So may God's grace descend, 
 To bless the children's friend,. 
 And from all harm defend ; 
 
 God bless John Keynes. 
 
 May constant tokens given 
 He has not vainly striven, 
 
 Eeward his pains ; 
 And those he taught to pray, 
 At every closing day, 
 On bended knee shall say, 
 God bless John Keynes. 
 
170 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 His wife and children bless, 
 Crown them with happiness, 
 
 "While life remains ; 
 As stars in yonder sky, 
 So be their names on high, 
 In fadeless brilliancy ; 
 
 God bless John Keynes. 
 
 Strong in the love of God, 
 And pointing to the blood 
 
 From Jesus' veins, 
 Still may he draw from sin, 
 Plant seeds of truth within, 
 And souls for Jesus win ; 
 
 God bless John Keynes. 
 
 And when, life's labour o'er, 
 On yon eternal shore, 
 
 "Where bliss ne'er wanes, 
 He stands before the throne, 
 His Master then will own 
 The truth which he has sown, 
 
 And crown John Keynes. 
 
 OJST THE FLOOD AT SHEFFIELD. 
 
 Hush ! for the night is calm ; 
 
 Break not the solemn still ; 
 The zephyrs, breathing balm, 
 
 With peace the spirits fill. 
 
SUSCELLANEOTJS POEMS. 171 
 
 Lovers, in tender tone, 
 
 Have whispered soft " Good nights ;" 
 While from the warm hearth-stone 
 
 Faded the branded lights. 
 
 Up from the lowly cot 
 
 Has ris'n the voice of prayer, 
 And He whose name is Love 
 
 Sheds His sweet influence there. 
 
 The mother, to her breast 
 
 Clasping her infant sleeping, 
 Dreams of a holier rest, 
 
 And a more than mortal keeping. 
 
 So calm, so soft, so still, 
 
 The breezes scarcely moan ; 
 When with a sudden thrill, 
 
 Strikes out the midnight tone. 
 
 But with that midnight hour, 
 
 The dark death-angel spread 
 His cloud-wreath'd wings abroad, 
 
 And breathed upon the dead ! 
 
 He breathed no pestilence, 
 
 No blood-stains dyed his way; 
 But he dipp'd his wings and stirr'd 
 
 The waters as they lay. 
 
172 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 Long ere the dawn had flush'd, 
 
 Death hrooded o'er the scene ; 
 For the madden'd waves had rush'd 
 
 The prisoning walls between. 
 
 ****** 
 The Christian slept on earth, 
 . But was waken'd by the strain 
 Of the white-robed ones in heaven, 
 
 As they praised the Lamb once slain. 
 
 For 'mid the sudden rush 
 Of the mighty waters' tone, 
 
 Jesus was there to claim 
 And bear away His own. 
 
 HE COMETH I 
 
 Wobk, O Christian, while the day-star shineth, 
 
 Work with zeal, for thou art not thine own ; 
 Soon the night its braided shades entwineth, 
 
 And thy labour season will be flown. 
 Ah ! the evening mists are surely falling, 
 
 And the Master cometh for His right ; 
 Souls around in wailing accents calling, 
 
 Bid thee haste to help them ere 'tis night. 
 
 Fight, warrior ! for the Captain speedeth ! 
 
 Even now from heaven He looketh down ; 
 All thy weary sighs for Him He heedeth, 
 
 And but tarries to prepare thy crown ; 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 173 
 
 Gather trophies quickly for His glory ; 
 
 Ah ! thy Captain's smile will be so sweet, 
 When He lists His soldier's eager story, 
 
 And beholds thy laurels at His feet. 
 
 "Watch, fair Spouse, the heavenly Bridegroom 
 neareth, 
 
 Soon He comes, His waiting love to claim ; 
 Quickly, surely, He thy God appeareth, 
 
 To bestow on thee His own new name : 
 Watch, in readiness of love to meet Him, 
 
 For His heart once throbb'd out blood for thee, 
 That thou might'st amid His glory greet Him, 
 
 And the King in all His beauty see. 
 
 Mourner, wipe the tears thy cheeks bedewing, 
 
 For the Man of sorrows draweth nigh ; 
 He has wept, and He thy sorrows viewing, 
 
 Hastes to bid the flowing drops be dry ; 
 Then shall all thy griefs be ealm'd for ever, 
 
 When thy Saviour clasps thee to His breast, 
 Whispering that no veil again shall sever 
 
 Thee from God, thy everlasting rest. 
 
 Trembler, let His trump thy spirit gladden, — 
 
 Lo, it soundeth even now from far ; 
 All the fears which now thy weak heart sadden, 
 
 At His coming shall be chased afar ; 
 Sinner, dread ; for the Avenger bendeth, 
 
 Looking on thy darken'd deeds of sin. 
 When His way amid the clouds He wendeth, 
 
 How wilt thou thy Sovereign's mercy win ? 
 
174 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 Haste, before that day's terrific dawning, 
 
 Trust the saving blood on Calvary spilt ; 
 Though the ready gulfs for thee are yawning, 
 
 He can save thee, He can cleanse thy guilt. 
 Hark, the trumpet louder still is sounding : 
 
 Christian, thy redemption draweth near. 
 Lord, be in us all Thy love abounding, 
 
 So that we may meet Thee without fear. 
 
 Draw us upwards ; ever, ever nearer, 
 
 To the Lamb who takes our sins away; 
 May we see, with vision daily clearer, 
 
 Heaven's own portal of immortal day. 
 Jesus cometh, — Saviour, Prince, Creator, 
 
 Cometh surely, though we know not when ; 
 "Wait we for the glorious Consummator, 
 
 Lord of 'angels, but the Friend of men. 
 
 THE END. 
 
 NOTE. 
 
 CANTO II OPENING LINES. 
 
 The allusion here is to the lines in the Fourth Book of 
 " Milton's Paradise Lost :" — 
 
 " Thither came Uriel, gliding through the even 
 On a sunbeam, swift as a shooting star 
 In autumn, thwarts the light." 
 
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 EEFLECTIONS ON THE HISTOEY OF 
 
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