With here and there a pearl, an emerald-stone, A golden clasp, clasping a shred of gold. All else had perished-save a wedding ring And a small seal, her mother's legacy, Engraven with a name, the name of both - "Ginevra."
-There then had she found a grave! Within that chest had she concealed herself, Fluttering with joy, the happiest of the happy, When a spring-lock, that lay in ambush there, Fastened her down forever!
A Belief in the Superintendence of Providence the only ade quate Support under Affliction. WORDSWORTH.
ONE adequate support
For the calamities of mortal life Exists, one only; an assured belief That the procession of our fate, howe'er Sad or disturbed, is ordered by a Being Of infinite benevolence and power, Whose everlasting purposes embrace All accidents, converting them to good.
The darts of anguish fix not, where the scat Of suffering hath been thoroughly fortified, By acquiescence in the will supreme, For time and for eternity;- by faith, Faith absolute in God, including hope, And the defence that lies in boundless love Of his perfections; with habitual dread Of aught unworthily conceived, endured
Impatiently, ill-done, or left undone,
To the dishonor of his holy name.
Soul of our souls, and Safeguard of the world,
thou only canst - the sick of heart;
Restore their languid spirits, and recall
Their lost affections unto thee and thine!
How beautiful this dome of sky,
And the vast hills in fluctuation fixed
At thy command, how awful! Shall the soul, Human and rational, report of thee
Even less than these?-Be mute who will, who can Yet will I praise thee with impassioned voice: My lips, that may forget thee in the crowd, Cannot forget thee here,—where thou hast built, For thy own glory, in the wilderness !
Me didst thou constitute a priest of thine, In such a temple as we now behold,
Reared for thy presence: therefore am I bound To worship, here, and everywhere, — as one Not doomed to ignorance, though forced to tread, From childhood up, the ways of poverty; From unreflecting ignorance preserved,
And from debasement rescued. By thy grace The particle divine remained unquenched; And, mid the wild weeds of a rugged soil, Thy bounty caused to flourish deathless flowers, From paradise transplanted. Wintry age Impends: the frost will gather round my heart: And, if they wither, I am worse than dead! Come Labor, when the worn-out frame requires Perpetual sabbath : come disease, and want,
And sad exclusion through decay of sense:
But leave me unabated trust in thee
And let thy favor, to the end of life,
Inspire me with ability to seek
Repose and hope among eternal things,- Father of heaven and earth! and I am rich, And will possess my portion in content!
And what are things eternal?
Possessions vanish, and opinions change,
And passions hold a fluctuating seat:
But, by the storms of circumstance unshaken,
And subject neither to eclipse nor wane,
Duty exists-immutably survives!
What more that may not perish ?—Thou, dread Source,
Prime, self-existing cause and end of all,
That, in the scale of being fill their place,
Above our human region or below,
Set and sustained; thou, who didst wrap the cloud Of infancy around us, that thyself,
Therein, with our simplicity a while
Might'st hold, on earth, communion undisturbed- Who from the anarchy of dreaming sleep, Or from its death-like void, with punctual care, And touch as gentle as the morning light, Restor'st us, daily, to the powers of sense, And Reason's steadfast rule-Thou, thou alone Art everlasting!
LESSON CXXXIX. Judgment.-MARY HOWITT.
THE VOICE OF THE WORLD.
NAME her not, the guilty one! Virtue turns aside for shame At the mention of her name • Very evilly hath she done'
Pity is on her misspent ; She was born of guilty kin,
Her life's course hath guilty been⚫ Unto school she never went,
And whate'er she learned was sin: Let her die!
She was nurtured for her fate; Beautiful she was, and vain; Like a child of sinful Cain She was born a reprobate! Lives like hers the world defile; Plead not for her, let her die, As the child of infamy! Ignorant and poor and vile, Plague-spot to the public eye, Let her die!
THE HEART OF THE OUTCAST.
I am young, alas! so young, And the world has been my foe; And by hardship, wrong, and woe Hath my bleeding heart been stung! There was none, O God! to teach me What was wrong and what was right; I have sinned before thy sight;
Let my cry of anguish reach thee, Piercing through the glooms of night, God of love!
Man is cruel, and doth smother
Tender mercy in his breast;
Lays fresh burdens on the oppressed;
Pities not an erring brother;
Pities not the stormy throes
Of the soul despair hath riven,
Nor the brain to madness driven !
How frightful the grave! how deserted and drear'
With the howls of the storm-wind
And the white bones all clattering together!
How peaceful the grave! its quiet how deep: Its zephyrs breathe calmly, and soft is its sleep, And flowerets perfume it with ether.
There riots the blood-crested worm on the dead
And the yellow skull serves the foul toad for a bed, And snakes in its nettle-weeds hiss.
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