GENTLE REPROOF.
DEAL gently with the erring one,
You may not know the power,
With which the first temptation came
In some unguarded hour.
You may not know how earnestly
He struggled or how well,
Until the hour of weakness came,
And sadly thus he fell,
Speak gently to the erring one;
Oh! do not thou forget,
However deeply stained by sin,
He is thy brother yet:
Heir of the self-same heritage,
Child of the self-same God,
He hath but stumbled in the path,
Thou hast in weakness trod.
Speak gently to the erring one,
For is it not enough,
That peace and innocence are gone,
Without thy censure rough?
Oh! sure it is a weary lot,
The sin-crushed heart to bear;
And they who have a happier lot,
May well their chidings spare.
Speak gently to the erring one,
And thou may'st lead him back,!
With holy words and looks of love,
From misery's thorny track.
Forget not, too, that thou hast sinned,
And sinful yet may be :
Deal gently with the erring one,
As God has dealt with thee,
THE HOUR OF PRAYER.
CHILD amidst the flowers at play,
While the red light fades away;
Mother with thy earnest eye,
Ever following silently;
Father by the breeze of eve
Called thy harvest work to leave :
Prayere yet the dark hours be,
Lift the heart and bend the knee.
Traveller, in the stranger's land,
Far from thine own household band!
Mourner haunted by the tone
Of a voice from this world gone ;
Captive in whose narrow cell
Sunshine hath not leave to dwell:
Sailor on the darkening sea,—
Lift the heart and bend the knee.
Warrior, that from battle won,
Breathest now at set of sun;
Woman o'er the lowly slain,
Weeping on his burial plain :
Ye, that triumph, ye, that sigh,
Kindred by one holy tie;
Heaven's first star alike ye see--
Lift the heart and bend the knee.
THE FLIGHT OF TIME. FAINTLY flow thou falling river,
Like a dream, that flies away; Down the ocean gliding ever,
Keep thy calm unruffled way: Time with such a silent motion, Floats along, on wings of air, To eternity's dark ocean;
Burying all its treasures there.
Roses bloom, and then they whither :
Cheeks are bright, then fade and die :
Shapes of light are wafted hither-
Then, like visions, hurry by :
Quick as clouds at evening driven
O'er the many-coloured west,
Years are bearing us to heaven,
Home of happiness and rest.
FALLEN IS THY THRONE.
FALL'N is thy throne, O Israel!
Silence is o'er thy plains;
Thy dwellings all lie desolate,
Thy children weep in chains,
Where are the dews, that fed thee
On Etham's barren shore?
That fire from heaven, which led thee,
Now lights thy path no more.
Lord! thou didst love Jerusalem ;-
Once, she was all thy own;
Her love thy fairest heritage,
Her power thy glory's throne,
Till evil came, and blighted
Thy long loved olive tree;
And Salem's shrines were lighted
For other gods than Thee!
Then sunk the star of Solyma
Then pass'd her glory's day,
Like heath, that in the wilderness
The wild wind whirls away.
Silent and waste her bowers,
Where once the mighty trod,
And sunk those guilty towers,
Where Baal reign'd as God!
"Go," said the Lord-"ye conquerors!
Steep in her blood your swords,
And raze to earth her battlements,
For they are not the Lord's !
Till Zion's mournful daughter
O'er kindred bones shall tread,
And Hinnom's vale of slaughter
Shall hide but half her dead!
A FAIRY SONG.
COME, follow, follow me.
Ye, fairy elves that be,
Light tripping o'er the green,
Come, follow Mab, your queen ;
Hand in hand we'll dance around,
For this place is fairy ground.
When mortals are at rest,
And snoring in their nest,
Unheard and unespied,
Through keyholes we do glide
Over tables, stools, and shelves,
We trip it with our fairy elves.
Then o'er a mushroom's head
Our table cloth we spread :
A grain of rye or wheat
The diet that we eat :
Pearly drops of dew we drink,
In acorn cups, filled to the brink.
The grasshopper, gnat and fly,
Serve for our minstrelsy;
Grace said, we dance awhile,
And so the time beguile;
And if the moon doth hide her head,
The glow-worm lights us home to bed.
O'er tops of dewy grass,
So nimbly do we pass,
The young and tender stalk
Ne'er bends, where we do walk :
Yet in the morning may be seen
Where we the night before have been,
THOSE EVENING BELLS.
THOSE evening bells! those evening bells!
How many a tale their music tells,
Of youth, and home, and that sweet time,
When last I heard their soothing chime.
Those joyous hours are pass'd away;
And many a heart, that then was gay,
Within the tomb now darkly dwells,
And hears no more those evening bells.
And so 'twill be, when I am gone;
That tuneful peal will still ring on,
While other bards shall walk these dells,
And sing your praise, sweet evening bells!
CONFIDENCE IN GOD.
How are thy servants bless'd, O Lord!
How sure is their defence!
Eternal wisdom is their guide,
Their help-Omnipotence.
In foreign realms, and lands remote,
Supported by thy care,
Through burning climes I pass'd unhurt,
And breathed in tainted air.
Thy mercy sweetened every soil,
Made every region please;
The hoary Alpine hills it warm'd,
And smoothed the Tyrrhene seas.
Think, O my soul ! devoutly think,
How with affrighted eyes,
Thou saw'st the wide extended deep
In all its horrors rise!
Confusion dwelt in every face,
And fear in every heart,
When wave on wave, and gulf on gulf,
Oe'rcame the pilot's art!
Yet then from all my griefs, O Lord!
Thy mercy set me free;
While, in the confidence of prayer,
My soul took hold on Thee.
For though in dreadful whirls we hung
High on the broken wave,
I knew thou wert not slow to hear,
Nor impotent to save.
The storm was laid, the winds retired,
Obedient to thy will;
The sea, that roar'd at thy command,
At thy command was still.
In midst of dangers, fears, and deaths,
Thy goodness, I'll adore ;
And praise thee for thy mercies past,
And humbly hope for more.
My life-if Thou preserve my life—
Thy sacrifice shall be ;
And death-if death must be my doom
Shall join my soul to Thee.
A LITTLE, 'tis a little word,
But much may on it dwell;
Then let the warning truth be heard,
And learn the lesson well.
A little theft, or small deceit,
Too often leads to more;
Little at first, it tempts the feet
As through an open door.
Just as the broadest rivers run
From small and distant springs,
The greatest crimes, that men have done
Have grown from little things.
The child, who early disobeys,
Stands now on slippery ground :
And who shall tell in future days
How low he may be found.
I now in youth begin,
The fleeting moments now improve ;
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