Hast thou e'er trod the sandy shore,
And heard the restless ocean roar;
When rous'd by some tremendous storm,
Its billows roll in dreadful form?
Hast thou beheld the lightning stream Through night's dark gloom with sudden gleam,
While the bellowing thunders' sound Roll'd rattl'ing through the heav'ns profound?
In yonder glass behold a drowning fly:
His little feet how vainly does he ply!
Poor, helpless insect! and will no one save?
Will no one snatch thee from the threat'ning
grave?
My finger's top shall prove a friendly shore;
There, trembler, all thy dangers now are o'er,
Wipe thy wet wings, and banish all thy fear:
Go, join thy numerous kindred in the air.
Away it flies, resumes its harmless play,
And lightly gambols in the golden ray!
The All-seeing God.
And has my darling told a lie?
Did she forget that God was by-
That God who saw the thing she did,
From whom no action can be hid?
Did she forget that God could see,
And hear wherever she might be ?
He made your eyes, and can discern
Whichever way you think to turn :
He made your ears, and he can hear
When you think nobody is near :
In every place, by night or day,
He watches all you do or say.
You thought, because you were alone,
Your falsehood never could be known;
But cunning liars are found out,
Whatever way they wind about
And always be afraid, my dear,
To tell a lie, for God can hear !
I wish, my love, you'd always try
To act as shall not need a lie ;
And when you wish a thing to do,
That has been once forbidden you,
Remember that, nor ever dare
To disobey, for God is there!
Why should you fear to tell me true?
Confess, and then I'll pardon you;
Tell me you're sorry, and you'll try
To act the better by and by
And then, whate'er your crime has been,
It won't be half so great a sin :
But cheerful, innocent, and gay,
As passes by the happy day,
You'll never have to turn aside,
From any one your faults to hide;
Nor heave a sigh, nor have a fear,
That either God or I should hear.
Death and the Resurrection.
The busy hand, busy no more,
Is sunk from its labours to rest;
Closed tight ev'ry window and door,
Where once the gay passenger prest.
The houses of frolic and fun
Are empty, and dreary, and dark;
The noise of the coaches is done,
And the weary horse rests from his work.
Just such is the season of death,
Which comes upon each of us fast, The bosom can't flutter with breath, When life's little day-time is past; The blood freezes cold in the vein,
The heart sinks for ever to rest, Not a thought passes over the brain, Nor a sigh finds its way from the breast.
The tongue stiff and silent is grown,
The pale lips move never again,
The smile and the dimple are gone,
And the voice both of pleasure and pain ;
Clay-cold the industrious hand,
And the bright eye is sullen and dark,
For death's gloomy shadows have made
That night in which no man can work.
But as from the silence and gloom
Another gay morning shall rise,
So, bursting at last from the tomb,
We shall mount far away to the skies :
And those who, in meekness and pray'r,
In the paths of religion have trod,
Shall worship, all glorious there,
Among the archangels of God.
When Christ among the sons of men
In humble form was found,
With cruel slanders, false and vain,
They compass'd him around.
With tenderness he bore their griefs,
Their peace he still pursu'd;
They render'd hatred for his love,
And evil for his good.
Their malice raged without a cause,
Yet, with his dying breath,
He pray'd for murd'rers on the cross,
And bless'd his foes in death.
From the rich fountain of his love What streams of mercy flow! "Father! forgive them," Jesus cries; "They know not what they do."
Let not this bright example shine
In vain before our eyes:
Give us, great God! a soul like his,
To love our enemies.
The Lord a God of Truth and Mercy.
Thy mercies and thy love,
Ŏ Lord, recall to mind,
And graciously continue still
As thou wert ever kind.
Let all my youthful crimes
Be blotted out by thee;
And for thy wondrous goodness' sake,
In mercy think on me.
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