Chapter XII: Part 12

Who loves not _knowledge_? who shall rail
Against her beauty? May she mix
With men and prosper! Who shall fix
Her pillars? Let her work prevail.

But on her forehead sits a fire;
She sets her forward countenance,
And leaps into the future chance,
Submitting all things to desire.

Half-grown as yet, a child, and vain,
She cannot fight the fear of death.
What is she, cut from love and faith,
But some wild Pallas from the brain

Of Demons? fiery hot to burst
All barriers in her onward race
For power. Let her know her place,
She is the second, not the first.

A higher hand must make her mild,
If all be not in vain; and guide
Her footsteps moving side by side
With wisdom, like the younger child.

For she is earthly of the mind,
But wisdom heavenly of the soul.
O friend, who earnest to thy goal
So early, leaving me behind,

I would the great world grew like thee,
Who grewest not alone in power
And _knowledge_, but from hour to hour
In reverence and in charity.
_Tennyson._

_Knowledge_ holdeth by the hilt, and heweth out a road to
conquest;
Ignorance graspeth the blade, and is wounded by its own good sword.
_Knowledge_ distilleth health from the virulence of opposite
poisons;
Ignorance mixeth wholesomes unto the breeding of disease.
_Knowledge_ is leagued with the universe, and findeth a friend
in all things;
But ignorance is everywhere a stranger, unwelcome, ill at ease, and
out of place.
_M. F. Tupper._

LABOUR.

Come unto me, all ye that _labour_ and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.--Matthew, xi. 28.

The _labourer_ is worthy of his hire.--Luke, x. 7.

Let him that stole steal no more: but rather let him _labour_, working with his hands the thing which is good, that he may have to give to him that needeth.--Ephesians, iv. 28.

Inventive _Labour_! cunning to deceive
Thyself, and skilful to no end but this,
Still to be doing, never to achieve--
What profitest?--though all, to such excess,
Man cannot utter it, be full of thee--
The eye unsatisfied, the ear no less--
Sore travail, and the vainest vanity
Ordained to exercise the sons of men--
Who getteth wisdom, where thy trials be?
_J. A. Heraud._

_Labour_, with envy and annoyance, where strangers will thee
wealth;
_Labour_, with indolence and gloom, where wealth falleth from
a father;
_Labour_ unto all, whether aching thews, or aching head, or
spirit;
The curse on the sons of men, in all their states, is _labour_.
Nevertheless, to the diligent, _labour_ bringeth blessing;
The thought of duty sweeteneth toil, and travail is a pleasure;
And time spent in doing, hath a comfort that is not for the idle,
The hardship is transmuted into joy by the dear alchemy of mercy.
_Labour_ is good for man, bracing up his energies to conquest,
And without it life is dull, the man perceiving himself useless.
For wearily the body groaneth, like a door on rusty hinges,
And the grasp of the mind is weakened, as the talons of a caged
vulture.
_M. F. Tupper._

LAND.

And the Lord said, I have surely seen the affliction of my people which are in Egypt.

And I am come down to deliver them out of the hand of the Egyptians, and to bring them up out of that _land_ unto a good _land_, and a large, unto a _land_ flowing with milk and honey.--Exodus, iii. 7, 8.

He that tilleth his _land_ shall be satisfied with bread.--Proverbs, xii. 11.

Thine eyes shall see the king in his beauty: they shall behold the _land_ that is vary far off.--Isaiah, xxxiii. 17.

Beautiful _Landscape_! I could look on thee
For hours, unmindful of the storm and strife,
And mingled murmurs of tumultuous life.
Here, all is still as fair--the stream, the tree,
The wood, the sunshine on the bank; no tear--
No thought of time’s swift wing, or closing night,
Which comes to steal away the long sweet light,--
No sighs of sad humanity are here.
Here is no tint of mortal change--the day,--
Beneath whose light the dog and peasant boy
Gambol, with look, and almost bark, of joy--
Still seems, though centuries have passed, to stay;
Then gaze again, that shadow’d scenes may teach
Lessons of peace and love, beyond all speech.
_Bowles._

There is a _land_ of pure delight,
Where saints immortal reign;
Infinite day excludes the night,
And pleasures banish pain.

There everlasting spring abides,
And never withering flowers;
Death like a narrow sea divides
This heavenly _land_ from ours.
_Dr. Watts._

Yes, far beyond the clouds outspread,
Where soaring fancy oft hath been,
There is a _land_ where Thou hast said
The pure in heart shall enter in;
They dream no more of grief and care,
For Thou, the God of Peace, art there.
_Mrs. Welby._

LAW.

And the Lord said unto Moses, come up to me into the mount, and be there: and I will give thee tables of stone, and a _law_.--Exodus, xxiv. 12.

Blessed is the man that walketh not in the counsel of the ungodly, nor standeth in the way of sinners, nor sitteth in the seat of the scornful.

But his delight is in the _law_ of the Lord; and in his _law_ doth he meditate day and night.--Psalm i. 1, 2.

Think not that I am come to destroy the _law_, or the prophets; I am not come to destroy, but to fulfil.

For verily I say unto you, Till heaven and earth pass, one jot or one tittle shall in no wise pass from the _law_, till all be fulfilled.--Matthew, v. 17, 18.

The good need fear no _law_;
It is his safety, and the bad man’s awe.
_Massinger._

_Law_ hath dominion over all things, over universal mind and
matter;
For there are reciprocities of right which no creature can gainsay.
Unto each was there added by its Maker, in the perfect chain of
being,
Dependencies and sustentations, accidents, and qualities, and
powers:
And each must fly forward in the curve, unto which it was forced
from the beginning;
Each must attract and repel, or the monarchy of order is no more.
_Laws_ are essential emanations from the self-poised character
of God,
And they radiate from that sun to the circling edges of creation.
Verily the mighty _Law_giver hath subjected himself unto
_laws_,
And God is the primal grand example of free unrestrained obedience;
_Martin F. Tupper._

Adam’s foul revolt
From the primeval _law_, on all his sons,
Through every age, the sad inheritance
Of sin and death entailed.
_Samuel Hayes._

LEAF.

We all do fade as a _leaf_.--Isaiah, lxiv. 6.

See the _leaves_ around us falling
Dry and withered to the ground;
Thus to thoughtless mortals calling,
In a sad and solemn sound:

Sons of Adam, once in Eden,
Blighted when like us he fell,
Hear the lecture we are reading,
’Tis, alas! the truth we tell.

Virgins, much, too much presuming
On your boasted white and red,
View us, late in beauty blooming,
Number’d now among the dead.

Sons of honour, fed on praises,
Fluttering high in fancied worth,
Lo! the fickle air, that raises,
Brings us down to parent earth.

Learned sophs, in systems jaded,
Who for new ones daily call,
Cease, at length, by us persuaded,
Ev’ry _leaf_ must have its fall.

Youths, though yet no losses grieve you,
Gay in health and manly grace,
Let not cloudless skies deceive you,
Summer gives to autumn place.

Venerable sires, grown hoary,
Hither turn th’ unwilling eye,
Think, amidst your falling glory,
Autumn tells a winter nigh.

Yearly in our course returning,
Messengers of shortest stay,
Thus we preach, this truth concerning,
“Heaven and Earth shall pass away.”

On the Tree of Life eternal,
Man, let all thy hope be staid,
Which alone, for ever vernal,
Bears a _leaf_ that shall not fade.
_Bishop Horne._

LEARNING.

A wise man will hear, and will increase _learning_; and a man of understanding shall attain unto wise counsels.--Proverbs, i. 5.

Cease to do evil; _Learn_ to do well.--Isaiah, i. 16, 17.

For whatsoever things were written aforetime were written for our _learning_.--Romans, xv. 4.

What is the pomp of _learning_? the parade
Of letters and of tongues? Even as the mists
Of the grey morn before the rising sun,
That pass away and perish. Earthly things
Are but the transient pageants of an hour;
And earthly pride is like the passing flower
That springs to fall, and blossoms but to die.
_H. K. White._

Of the deep _learning_ of the schools of yore
The reverend pastor hath a golden stock;
Yet with a vain display of useless lore,
Or sapless doctrine never will he mock
The better cravings of his simple flock;
But faithfully their humble shepherd guides
Where streams eternal gush from Calvary’s rock;
For well he knows not _learning’s_ purest tides
Can quench the immortal thirst that in the soul abides.
_Mrs. Little._

_Learning_ is good, but holiness is better:
_Learning_ with holiness combined--what then?
Aye, that is best of all; th’ instructed mind,
Which ignorance nor prejudice can fetter,
That looks through nature with a searching ken,
And knows the history of human kind,
And hath a store of treasures at command;
If such can meekly bend, and humbly wait
Beside the footstool of the Infinite,
Eager to bask in beams of saving grace,
_Learning_ and goodness then go hand in hand,
And happy is the people and the state,
That hath such _learned_ men to shed the light
Of their example round their early resting-place.
_Egone._

LIBERTY.

Because the creature itself also shall be delivered from the bondage of corruption into the glorious _liberty_ of the children of God.--Romans, viii. 21.

Where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is _liberty_.--II. Corinthians, iii. 17.

So speak ye, and so do, as they that shall be judged by the law of _liberty_.--James, ii. 12.

In vain from thee, O love, expecting ease,
Few hours of calm, but years of grief I passed,
And lived on joys and hopes that would not last--
Food ill adapted to my heart’s disease.
But now that I desire a full release,
And heaven has granted me this sweet contrast
Of light, and life, and _liberty_ so vast,
Far as I can from thee I fly for peace;
Even as a bird, which, rescued from the snare,
Wings to the shady covert of the grove,
Still fluttering at the danger it has seen.
I hear thee call indeed, as I remove;
But He who sought me, and who hears my prayer,
Allows not earthly love to come between.
_Gabriel Fiamma._

But there is yet a _liberty_, unsung
By poets, and by senators unpraised,
Which monarchs cannot grant, nor all the powers
Of earth and hell confederate, take away;
A _liberty_ which persecution, fraud,
Oppression, prisons, have no power to bind;
Which whoso tastes can be enslaved no more.
’Tis _liberty_ of heart, derived from Heaven,
Bought with His blood, who gave it to mankind,
And sealed with the same token.
_Cowper._

True _Liberty_ was Christian; sanctified,
Baptized and found in Christian hearts alone.
First-born of Virtue, daughter of the skies,
Nursling of truth divine; sister of all
The graces, meekness, holiness, and love.
Giving to God, and man, and all below
That symptom showed of sensible existence,
Their due, unasked.
_Pollok._

LIFE.

A man’s _life_ consisteth not in the abundance of the things which he possesseth.--Luke, xii. 15.

This is _life_ eternal, that they might know thee the only true God, and Jesus Christ, whom thou hast sent.--John, xvii. 3.

In hope of eternal _life_, which God, that cannot lie, promised before the world began.--Titus, i. 2.

For what is your _life_? It is even a vapour, that appeareth for a little time, and then vanisheth away.--James, iv. 14.

Hereby perceive we the love of God; because he laid down his _life_ for us: and we ought to lay down our _lives_ for the brethren.--I. John, iii. 16.

So, in the passing of a day, doth pass
The bud and blossom of the _life_ of man,
Nor e’er doth flourish more, but like the grass
Cut down, becometh withered, pale, and wan.
_Tasso._

I _live_ on earth upon a stage of sorrow;
Lord, if Thou pleasest, end the play to-morrow.
I _live_ on earth, as in a dream of pleasure;
Awake me when Thou wilt, I wait Thy leisure.
I _live_ on earth, but as of _life_ bereaven;
My _life_’s with Thee, for, Lord, Thou art in Heaven.
_Quarles._

Thy _life_’s a warfare, thou a soldier art,
Satan’s thy foeman, and a faithful heart
Thy two-edged weapon, patience thy shield,
Heaven is thy chieftain, and the world thy field.
To be afraid to die, or wish for death,
Are words and passions of despairing breath:
Who doth the first, the day doth faintly yield;
And who the second, basely flies the field.
_Quarles._

While man is growing, _life_ is in decrease;
And cradles rock us nearer to the tomb.
Our birth is nothing but our death begun;
As tapers waste that instant they take fire.

* * * * *

He sins against this _life_, who slights the next.
_Young._

_Life_ is most enjoyed
When courted least; most worth when disesteemed;
Then ’tis the seat of comfort, rich in peace,
In prospect richer far; important, awful,
Not to be mentioned, but with shouts of praise!
Not to be thought on, but with tides of joy!
The mighty basis of eternal bliss!

* * * * *

In the same brook, none ever bathed him twice:
To the same _life_, none ever twice awoke.
We call the brook the same; the same we think
Our _life_, though still more rapid in its flow;
Nor mark the much irrevocably lapsed,
And mingled with the sea.
_Young._

Opening the map of God’s expansive plan,
We find a little isle, this _life_ of man;
Eternity’s unknown expanse appears
Circling around, and limiting his years.
The busy race examine and explore
Each creek and cavern of the dangerous shore,
With care collect what in their eyes excels,
Some shining pebbles, and some weeds and shells,
Thus laden, dream that they are rich and great,
And happiest be that groans beneath his weight.
The waves o’ertake them in their serious play,
And every hour sweeps multitudes away;
They shriek and sink--survivors start and weep,
Pursue their sport, and follow to the deep.
_Cowper._

This mortal _life_,
Seeming so fair, is like a feather tossed,
Borne on the wind, and in a moment lost.
Or if with sudden wheel it flies
Further sometimes, and upwards springs,
And then upon its wings
Sustained in air, as if self-balanced, lies,
The lightness of its nature is the cause--
And swiftly, after little pause,
With thousand turns, and thousand idle stops,
Because it is of earth, to earth it drops.
_From the Italian of Sanazzaro._

Transient, fickle, light, and gay,
Flattering only to betray;
What, alas! can _life_ contain!
_Life_ like all its circles,--vain.
_Moore._

Man’s _life_’s a book of history;
The leaves thereof are days;
The letters, mercies closely joined;
The title is God’s praise.
_Mason._

How short is human _life_! the very breath
Which frames my words, accelerates my death.
_Hannah More._

Ah, what is _Life_! a dream within a dream;
A pilgrimage from peril rarely free;
A bark that sails upon a changing sea,
Now sunshine and now storm; a mountain stream
Heard, but scarce seen ere to the dark deep gone;
A wild star blazing with unsteady beam,
Yet for a season fair to look upon.
_Life_ is an infant on Affection’s knee,
A youth now full of hope and transient glee,
In manhood’s peerless noon, now bright, anon
A time-worn ruin silvered o’er with years.
_Life_ is a race where slippery steeps arise,
Where discontent and sorrow are the prize,
And where the goal appears the grave is won.
_E. Moxon._

In deserts of the Holy Land I strayed,
Where Christ once _lived_, but seems to _live_ no more,
On Lebanon my lonely home I made,
I heard the wind among the cedars roar,
And saw, far off, the Great Sea’s solemn shore:
“But ’tis a dreary wilderness,” I said,
Now the prophetic spirit hence has fled:
Then, from a convent in the vale, I heard,
Slow-chanted forth, the everlasting Word,
Saying “I am he that _liveth_, and was dead,
And lo! I am _alive_ for evermore.”
Then forth upon my pilgrimage I fare,
Resolved to find and praise Him everywhere.
_J. Gostick._

Tell me not, in mournful numbers,
“_Life_ is but an empty dream!”
For the soul is dead that slumbers,
And things are not what they seem.

_Life_ is real! _Life_ is earnest!
And the grave is not its goal;
“Dust thou art, to dust returnest,”
Was not spoken of the soul.

Not enjoyment, and not sorrow,
Is our destined end or way,
But to act, that each to-morrow
Find us farther than to-day.

Art is long, and time is fleeting,
And our hearts, though stout and brave,
Still, like muffled drums, are beating
Funeral marches to the grave.

In the world’s broad field of battle,
In the bivouac of _Life_,
Be not like dumb, driven cattle!
Be a hero in the strife!

Trust no future, howe’er pleasant!
Let the dead Past bury its dead!
Act,--act in the _living_ Present!
Heart within, and God o’erhead!

_Lives_ of great men all remind us
We can make our _lives_ sublime,
And, departing, leave behind us
Footprints on the sands of time;

Footprints, that perhaps another,
Sailing o’er _life’s_ solemn main,
A forlorn and shipwrecked brother,
Seeing, shall take heart again.

Let us, then, be up and doing,
With a heart for any fate,
Still achieving, still pursuing,
Learn to labour and to wait.
_Longfellow._

LIGHT.

And God said. Let there be _light_: and there was _light_.

And God saw the _light_ that it was good: and God divided the _light_ from the darkness.

And God called the _light_ Day.--Genesis, i. 3, 4, 5.

Truly the _light_ is sweet, and a pleasant thing it is for the eyes to behold the sun.--Ecclesiastes, xi. 7.

Come ye, and let us walk in the _light_ of the Lord.--Isaiah, ii. 5.

Let your _light_ so shine before men that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father which is in heaven.--Matthew, v. 16.

The dayspring from on high hath visited us, to give _light_ to them that sit in darkness, and in the shadow of death, to guide our feet into the way of peace.--Luke, i. 78, 79.

Every one that doeth evil, hateth the _light_; neither cometh to the _light_, lest his deeds should be reproved.--John, iii. 20.

The day that only springeth from on high,
That high day-_light_ wherein the heavens do live:
The life that loves but to behold that eye
Which doth the glory of all brightness give,
And from the enlightened doth all darkness drive:
Where saints do see, and angels know to see
A brighter _light_ than saints or angels see.

In this _light’s_ love, O, let me ever live!
And let my soul have never other love
But all the pleasures of this world to give,
The smallest spark of such a joy to prove,
And ever pray unto my God above,
To grant my humble soul good Simeon’s grace,
In love to see my Saviour in the face.
_Nicholas Breton._

Hail, holy _Light_, offspring of heav’n first born,
Or of th’ Eternal coeternal beam,
May I express thee unblam’d? Since God is _Light_,
And never but in unapproached _light_
Dwelt from eternity, dwelt then in thee,
Bright effluence of bright essence increate.
Or hear’st thou rather pure ethereal stream,
Whose fountain who shall tell? Before the sun,
Before the heav’ns thou wert, and at the voice
Of God, as with a mantle, did’st invest
The rising world of waters dark and deep,
Won from the void and formless infinite!
_Milton._

He that hath _light_ within his own clear breast,
May sit in the centre, and enjoy bright day;
But he that hides a dark soul, and foul thoughts,
Benighted walks under the mid-day sun:
Himself is his own dungeon.
_Milton._

Prime cheerer, _Light_!
Of all material beings, first and best!
Efflux divine! Nature’s resplendent robe!
Without whose vesting beauty, all were wrapt
In unessential gloom! and thou, O Sun!
Soul of surrounding worlds, in whom, best seen,
Shines out thy Maker!
_Thomson._

See, the time for sleep has run,
Rise before, or with the sun:
Lift thy hands, and humbly pray
The fountain of eternal day.
That, as the _light_, serenely fair,
Illustrates all the tracts of air;
The Sacred Spirit so may rest,
With quickening beams, upon thy breast.
_Parnell._

When Israel of the Lord beloved,
Out from the land of bondage came,
Her father’s God before her moved,
An awful guide in smoke and flame,
By day along the astonish’d lands
The cloudy pillar glided slow;
By night Arabia’s crimson’d sands
Return’d the fiery column’s glow.

And present still, though now unseen!
When brightly shines the prosperous day.
Be thoughts of Thee a cloudy screen,
To temper the deceitful ray;
And oh, when stoops in Judah’s path,
In shade and storm, the frequent night,
Be Thou long-suffering, slow to wrath,
A burning and a shining _light_.
_Sir Walter Scott._

O _light_, thy subtle essence who may know?
--Ask not, for all things but myself I show.
_J. Montgomery._

Almighty Framer of the skies!
O let our pure devotion rise
Like incense in thy sight!
Wrapt in impenetrable shade,
The texture of our souls was made,
Till thy command gave _light_.
_Chatterton._

Awake, arise, thy _light_ is come;
The nations that before outshone thee,
Now at thy feet lie dark and dumb,
The glory of the Lord is on thee!

Arise--the Gentiles to thy ray,
From ev’ry nook of earth shall cluster;
And kings and princes haste to pay
Their homage to thy rising lustre.
_Moore._

Walk in the _light_! so shalt thou know
That fellowship of love
His Spirit only can bestow,
Who reigns in _light_ above.

Walk in the _light_! and sin, abhorred,
Shall ne’er defile again;
The blood of Jesus Christ the Lord
Shall cleanse from every stain.

Walk in the _light_! and thou shalt find,
Thy heart made truly His,
Who dwells in cloudless _light_ enshrined,
In whom no darkness is.

Walk in the _light_! and thou shalt own
Thy darkness passed away,
Because that _light_ hath on thee shone,
In which is perfect day.

Walk in the _light_! and e’en the tomb
No fearful shade shall wear;
Glory shall chase away its gloom,
For Christ hath conquered there.

Walk in the _light_! and thou shalt be
A path, though thorny, bright;
For God, by grace, shall dwell in thee,
And God Himself is _light_!
_Barton._

“Let there be _light_!” The Eternal spoke,
And from the abyss where darkness rode
The earliest dawn of nature broke,
And _light_ around creation flowed:
The glad earth smiled to see the day,
The first-born day come blushing in;
The young day smiled to shed its ray
Upon a world untouched by sin.

“Let there be _light_!” O’er heaven and earth,
The God who first the day-beam poured,
Uttered again His fiat forth,
And shed the gospel’s _light_ abroad;
And, like the dawn, its cheering rays
On rich and poor were meant to fall,
Inspiring their Redeemer’s praise,
In lowly cot, and lordly hall.

Then come, when in the orient first
Flushes the signal-_light_ for prayer;
Come with the earliest beams that burst
From God’s bright throne of glory there;
Come, kneel to Him who through the night
Hath watched above thy sleeping soul;
To Him whose mercies, like His _light_,
Are shed abroad from pole to pole.
_Charles F. Hoffman._

Then moved upon the waveless deep
The quickening Spirit of the Lord;
And broken was its pulseless sleep
Before the Everlasting Word!
“Let there be _Light_!” and listening earth,
With tree, and plant, and flowery sod,
“In the beginning” sprang to birth,
Obedient to the voice of God.
_W. H Burleigh._

Heard as each morn relumes the eastern cloud,
Thy voice of holiest comfort cries aloud,
Bidding us rise, the night-like past above,
And soar on morning’s wing to thoughts of _light_ and love!
_Anon._

LORD.

The _Lord_ shall reign for ever and ever.--Exodus, xv. 18.

Hear, O _Lord_, and have mercy upon me: _Lord_, be thou my helper.--Psalm xxx. 10.

By the word of the _Lord_ were the heavens made; and all the host of them by the breath of His mouth.--Psalm xxxiii. 6.

Exalt the _Lord_ our God, and worship at his holy hill, for the _Lord_ our God is holy.--Psalm xcix. 9.

And I heard as it were the voice of a great multitude, and as the voice of many waters, and as the voice of many thunderings, saying. Alleluia: for the _Lord_ God omnipotent reigneth.--Revelation, xix. 6.

Thou art of all created things
O _Lord_, the essence and the cause,
The source and centre of all bliss;
What are those veils of woven light,
Where sun and moon and stars unite,
The purple morn, the sprangled night,
But curtains which Thy mercy draws
Between the heavenly world and this?
The terrors of the sea and land,
When all the elements conspire,
The earth and water, storm and fire,
Are but the shadows of Thy hand;
The lightning’s flash, the howling storm,
The dread volcano’s awful blaze,
Proclaim Thy glory and Thy praise!
Beneath the sunny summer showers
Thy love assumes a milder form
And writes its angel name in flowers;
The wind that flies with winged feet
Around the grassy gladdened earth,
Seems but commissioned to repeat
In echo’s accents--silvery sweet--
That Thou, O _Lord_, didst give it birth.
There is a tongue in every flame,
There is a tongue in every wave,
To these the bounteous Godhead gave
These organs but to praise His name!
O mighty _Lord_ of boundless space
Here canst Thou be both sought and found.
For here in everything around
Thy presence and Thy power I trace;
With faith my guide and my defence,
I burn to serve in love and fear;
If as a slave, oh! leave me here,
If not, O _Lord_, remove me hence!
_M’ Carthy, from the Spanish of Calderon._

The _Lord_ of all, Himself through all diffused,
Sustains, and is the life of all that lives.
Nature is but a name for an effect,
Whose cause is God. He feeds the secret fire
By which the mighty process is maintained;
Who sleeps not, is not weary; in whose sight
Slow circling ages are as transient days;
Whose work is without labour; whose designs
No flaw deforms, no difficulty thwarts;
And whose beneficence no charge exhausts.
Him blind antiquity profaned, not served,
With self-taught rites, and under various names,
Female and Male Pomona, Pales, Pan,
And Flora, and Vertumnus; peopling earth
With tutelary goddesses and gods
That were not; and commending as they would
To each some province, garden, field, or grove.
But all are under one. One Spirit, His
Who wore the platted thorns with bleeding brows,
Rules universal nature. Not a flower
But shows some touch in freckle, streak, or stain,
Of His unrivalled pencil. He inspires
Their balmy odours, and imparts their hues,
And bathes their eyes with nectar, and includes,
In grains as countless as the sea-side sands,
The forms with which He sprinkles all the earth.
_Cowper._

The _Lord_ will come! the earth shall quake,
The hills their fixed seat forsake;
And, with’ring, from the vault of night
The stars withdraw their feeble light.

The _Lord_ will come! but not the same
As once in lowly form He came,
A silent Lamb to slaughter led,
The bruis’d, the suff’ring, and the dead.

The _Lord_ will come! a dreadful form,
With wreath of flame, and robe of storm,
On cherub wings, and wings of wind,
Anointed Judge of human-kind!

Go, tyrants! to the rocks complain!
Go, seek the mountain’s cleft in vain!
But faith, victorious o’er the tomb,
Shall sing for joy, the _Lord_ is come!
_Heber._

Great Former of this various frame,
Our souls adore thine awful name;
And bow and tremble while they praise
The Ancient of eternal days.

Thou _Lord_, with unsurprised survey,
Saw’st nature rising yesterday;
And, as to-morrow, shall thine eye,
See earth and stars in ruin lie.
_Doddridge._

In the dark winter of affliction’s hour,
When summer friends and pleasures haste away,
And the wrecked heart perceives how frail each power
It made a refuge, and believed a stay;
When man, all wild and weak is seen to be--
There’s none like Thee, O _Lord_! there’s none like Thee!

Thou in adversity canst be a sun;
Thou hast a healing balm, a sheltering tower,
The peace, the truth, the life, the love of One,
Nor wound, nor grief, nor storm can overpower
Gifts of a King; gifts, frequent and yet free,--
There’s none like Thee, O _Lord_! none, none like Thee!
_Miss Jewsbury._

Attired with majesty, the _Lord_ doth reign,
And girt with strength. The world immovably
Is stablished, and His throne shall aye remain!
Thou art for ever! The floods have lifted high,
O _Lord_! the floods have lifted high their voice,
The floods lift up their billows mightily--
The _Lord_ on high is mightier than the noise
Of many waters, stronger than the seas--
Thy word is sure--Let all the earth rejoice!
_J. A. Heraud._

LOVE.

The Lord preserveth all them that _love_ Him.--Psalm xciv. 20.

_Love_ your enemies, bless them that curse you.--Matthew, v. 44.

This is my commandment, that ye _love_ one another, as I have _loved_ you.

Greater _love_ hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.

Ye are my friends, if ye do whatsoever I command you.--John, xv. 12, 14.

God commendeth his _love_ toward us, in that, while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.--Romans, v. 8.

Behold, what manner of _love_ the Father hath bestowed upon us, that we should be called the sons of God.--I. John, iii. 1.

Beloved, let us _love_ one another: for _love_ is of God; and every one that _loveth_ is born of God, and knoweth God.--I. John, iv. 7.

Weak though we are, to _love_ is no hard task,
And _love_ for _love_ is all that Heaven does ask.

* * * * *

’Tis with our minds as with a fertile ground;
Wanting this _love_, they must with weeds abound;
Unruly passions, whose effects are worse
Than thorns and briars, springing from the curse.
_Waller._

Legions of angels, which He might have used,
For us resolved to perish, He refused;
While they stood ready to prevent His loss,
_Love_ took Him up, and nailed Him to the cross.
Immortal _love_! which in His bowels reigned,
That we might be by such high _love_ constrained
To make return of _love_; upon this pole
Our duty does, and our religion roll.
To _love_ is to believe, to hope, to know;
’Tis an essay, a taste of Heaven below.
He to proud potentates would not be known;
Of those who _loved_ Him, He was hid from none.
_Waller._

Humble _love_,
And not proud science, keeps the door of Heaven;
_Love_ finds admission where proud science fails.
_Young._

_Love_ celestial! wondrous heat!
O, beyond expression great!
What resistless charms were thine,
In thy good, thy best design!
When God was hated, sin obeyed,
And man undone, without thy aid,
From the seats of endless peace
They brought the Son, the Lord of Grace;
They taught Him to receive a birth,
To clothe in flesh, to live on earth,
And after, lifted Him on high,
And taught Him on the cross to die.
_Parnell._

He prayeth best, who _loveth_ best
All things, both great and small;
For the dear God who _loveth_ us,
He made and _loveth_ all.
_Coleridge._

They sin who tell us _love_ can die!
With life all other passions fly,
All others are but vanity;
In heaven ambition cannot dwell,
Nor avarice in the vaults of hell;
Earthly these passions of the earth,
They perish where they have their birth.
But _love_ is indestructible,
Its holy flame for ever burneth,
From heaven it came, to heaven returneth:
For oft on earth a troubled guest,
At times deceived, at times oppress’d;
It here is tried and purified,
Then hath in heaven its perfect rest:
It sowest here with toil and care,
But the harvest-time of _love_ is there.
_Southey._

I must _love_ on, O God!
This bosom must _love_ on! but let thy breath
Touch and make pure the flame that knows not death
Bearing it up to Heaven, _Love’s_ own abode.
_Mrs. Hemans._

No mortal object did these eyes behold
When first they met the placid light of thine,
And my soul felt her destiny divine;
And hope of endless peace in me grew bold:
Heaven-born, the soul a heavenward course must hold;
Beyond the visible world she soars to seek
(For what delights the sense is false and weak)
Ideal form, the universal mould.
The wise man, I affirm, can find no rest
In that which perishes: nor will he lend
His heart to ought which doth on time depend.
’Tis sense, unbridled will, and not true _love_,
Which kills the soul: _love_ betters what is best
Even here below, but more in heaven above.
_Wordsworth, from Michael Angelo._

O _Love_! thy essence is thy purity!
Breathe one unhallowed breath upon thy flame,
And it is gone for ever, and but leaves
A sullied vase--its pure light lost in shame.
_Miss Landon._

_Love_ Thee! Oh, clad in human lowliness,--
In whom each heart its mortal kindred knows,--
Our flesh, our forms, our tears, our pains, our woes;
A fellow-wanderer o’er earth’s wilderness!
_Love_ Thee!--whose very word but breathes to bless!
Through Thee, from long-seal’d lips, glad language flows;
The blind their eyes, that laugh with light, unclose;
And babes, unchid, Thy garment’s hem caress.
I see thee--doomed by bitterest pangs to die,
Up the sad hill, with willing footsteps move,
With scorge, and taunt, and wanton agony;
While the cross nods, in hideous gloom, above,
Though all--even there--be radiant Deity!
Speechless I gaze, and my whole soul is _Love_.
_Milman._

They err, who deem _love’s_ brightest hour in blooming youth
is flown:
Its purest, tenderest, holiest power in after life is known,
When passions chastened and subdued, to riper years are given,
And earth, and earthly things, are viewed in light that breaks from
Heaven.
_Bernard Barton._

Music of the bough that waves,
As the wind plays lightly o’er;
Music of the stream that laves
Pebbly marge or rocky shore;
Sweet your melody to me,
Singing to the soul--the tone
Exceeds by far the minstrelsy
Of halls wherein bright harpers shone;
For ye attune His praise who made
The wondrous perfect frame we view,
Each hill, and plain, and leafy shade,
And yon fair canopy of blue:
Ye seem to sing,--“How great the arm
Of that high God who reigns above;
Him worship! but without alarm;
His dearest, best known name is _Love_.”
_James Edmeston._

All things that are on earth shall wholly pass away,
Except the _Love_ of God, which shall live and last for aye.

* * * * *

Anon the great globe itself (so the holy writings tell,)
With the rolling firmament, where the starry armies dwell,
Shall melt with fervent heat--they all shall pass away,
Except the _Love_ of God, which shall live and last for aye.
_W. C. Bryant._

God is _Love_, saith the Evangel;
And our world of woe and sin
Is made light and happy only,
When a _love_ is shining in.
_J. G. Whittier._

Oh, _loving_ and forgiving--
Ye angel words of earth
Years were not worth the living
If ye too had not birth!
Oh, _loving_ and forbearing--
How sweet your mission here;
The grief that ye are sharing
Hath blessings in its tear.

Oh, stern and unforgiving--
Ye evil words of life,
That mock the means of living
With never-ending strife.
Oh, harsh and unrepenting
How would ye meet the grave,
If Heaven, as unrelenting,
Forbore not, nor forgave?

Oh, _loving_ and forgiving--
Sweet sisters of the soul,
In whose celestial living
The passions find control!
Still breathe your influence o’er us
Whene’er by passion crost,
And, angel-like, restore us
The paradise we lost.
_Charles Swain._

’Tis the angel _Love_,
He, who for ever strives with Death, and yet
Doth live! I see a form erect and motionless,
Veiled with a cloud of darkness, that no eye
Can pierce; that spectre form is Death, and there
I see _Love_ crushed and bleeding ’neath his feet:
But still undying--still a conqueror--still
A thing that Death may wound but cannot quell.
In his warm blood a spirit still survives;
In his bright eye a soul is living yet;
In his undying heart, eternal life
Throbs fixedly. Oh strife most beautiful!
Thou crowned martyr! thou enduring _Love_!
How beautiful thou art!
_Constantia L. Riddell._

Why should I a stranger be
In my Father’s dwelling,
While hill and river, rock and tree,
Of his _love_ are telling?
Always heard their simple voice,
Bidding child-like hearts rejoice,
Whispers us this _love_ is near;
What we seek in yonder sphere,
_Love_ can find it now--and here.
_Joseph Gostick._

Hail, holy _love_! ethereal essence, hail!
Heaven’s earliest offspring, earliest visitant
From thence to earth, here latest found to soothe
Man’s burdened heart, with pains and griefs oppressed,
(Sad fruit of disobedience,) thou, ere time
His race had yet begun, the glorious plan
Of mercy didst devise, the day of grace,
That with mild lustre dawned in Eden’s shades,
What time primeval sinners strove to hide
(Vain subterfuge!) from God’s all-piercing eye
Their guilt and shame; and thousand promises
With kindling radiance on the raptured mind
Of patriarchs, and kings, and prophets rose,
And saints expectant.
_S. Stennet._

_Love_ never fails: though knowledge cease,
Though Prophecies decay,
_Love_, Christian _love_, shall still increase,
Shall still extend her sway.
Here dimly, through life’s shadowy glass,
We strain our infant eyes;
Soon shall the earth-born vapours pass,
And light, unclouded, rise;
Then Hope shall sink in changeless doom,
Then Faith’s bright race be o’er,
But Thou, Eternal _Love_, shalt bloom
More glorious than before.
_W. Peter._

Before the sparkling lamps on high
Were kindled up, and hung around the sky:
Before the sun led on the circling hours,
Or vital seeds produced their active powers;
Before the first intelligences strung
Their golden harps and soft preludiums sung
To _Love_, the mighty cause whence their existence sprung,
Th’ ineffable Divinity
His own resemblance meets in thee.
By this thy glorious lineage thou dost prove
Thy high descent--for God Himself is _Love_.
_Mrs. Rowe._

LOWLINESS.

Though the Lord be high, yet hath He respect unto the _lowly_: but the proud He knoweth afar off.--Psalm cxxxviii. 6.

When pride cometh, then cometh shame: but with the _lowly_ is wisdom.--Proverbs, xi. 2.

Let nothing be done through strife or vain glory; but in _lowliness_ of mind let each esteem other better than themselves.--Philippians, ii. 3.

The man whose eye
Is ever on himself, doth look on one
The least of nature’s works, one who might move
The wise man to that scorn which wisdom holds
Unlawful ever. O be wiser, Thou!
Instructed that true knowledge leads to love;
True dignity abides with him alone,
Who in the silent hour of inward thought,
Can still suspect, and still revere himself
In _lowliness_ of heart.
_Wordsworth._

There are briars besetting every path,
That call for patient care;
There is a cross in every lot,
And an earnest need for prayer;
But a _lowly_ heart that leans on Thee
Is happy anywhere.
_Ann L. Waring._

The blessing of a _lowly_ mind
Lord, unto me be given,
Joy in the meanest spot to find,
To see in all of human kind,
But fellow-travellers, designed
To rest at last in heaven.

The pleasures of a _lowly_ state
Oh, let me ne’er despise;
And should I sit among the great,
Ne’er be my heart with pride elate,
But meekly let me watch and wait
In _lowliness_ of guise.
_Egone._

MAN.

In the day that God created _man_, in the likeness of God made he him.

Male and female created he them; and blessed them, and called their name Adam, in the day when they were created.--Genesis, v. 1, 2.

Behold, even to the moon, and it shineth not; yea, the stars are not pure in his sight.

How much less _man_, that is a worm? and the son of _man_, which is a worm?--Job, xxv. 5, 6.

When I consider thy heavens, the work of thy fingers, the moon and the stars, which thou hast ordained.

What is _man_ that thou art mindful of him, and the son of _man_ that thou visitest him.

For thou hast made him a little lower than the angels, and hast crowned him with glory and honour.--Psalm viii. 3, 4, 5.

_Man’s_ goings are of the Lord; how can a _man_, then, understand his own way?--Proverbs, xx. 24.

_Man_ shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that proceedeth out of the mouth of God.--Matthew, iv. 4.

O, what is _man_, great Maker of _mankind_!
That Thou to him so great respect dost bear;
That Thou adornest him with so bright a mind,
Mak’st him a king, and even an angel’s peer?

O, what a lively life, what heavenly power,
What spreading virtue, what a sparkling fire,
How great, how plentiful, how rich a dower
Dost Thou within the dying flesh inspire!

Thou leav’st Thy print in other works of Thine,
But Thy whole image Thou in _man_ hast writ;
There cannot be a creature more divine,
Except, like Thee, it should be infinite.

But it exceeds _man’s_ thoughts, to think how high
God hath raised _man_, since God a _man_ became;
The angels do admire this mystery,
And are astonished when they view the same:

Nor hath He given these blessings for a day,
Nor made them on the body’s life depend;
The soul, though made in time, survives for aye;
And though it hath beginning, sees no end.
_Sir John Davies._

So fair is _man_, that death (a parting blast,)
Blasts his fair flower, and makes him earth at last;
So strong is _man_, that with a gasping breath
He totters, and bequeaths his strength to death;
So wise is _man_, that if with death he strive,
His wisdom cannot teach him how to live;
So rich is _man_, that (all his debts being paid,)
His wealth’s the winding-sheet wherein he’s laid;
So young is _man_, that (broke with care and sorrow,)
He’s old enough to-day to die to-morrow.
_Francis Quarles._

_Man’s_ not a lawful steersman of his days,
His bootless wish nor hastens, nor delays;
We are God’s hired workmen, He discharges
Some late at night, and (when He list) enlarges
Others at noon, and in the morning some:
None may relieve himself, till He bid, Come.
_Francis Quarles._

Let us make _man_ in our own image, _man_
In our similitudes, and let them rule
Over the fish and fowl of both sea and air,
Beast of the field, and over all the earth,
And every creeping thing that creeps the ground.
This said, He formed thee Adam, thee, O _man_!
Dust of the ground; and in thy nostrils breathed
The breath of life: in His own image, He
Created thee--in the image of God
Express.
_Milton._

When by His Word God had accomplished all,
_Man_ to create He did a council call:
Employed His hand to give the dust He took
A graceful figure and majestic look;
With His own breath conveyed into his breast
Life and a soul fit to command the rest.
_Waller._

Alas! that _man_
Must prove the direst enemy of _man_--
His boasted reason wielded to contrive
Dark systems of despair--his vaunted skill,
To forge the fetters which enthral the soul.
_A. Alexander._

A beam ethereal, sullied and absorpt!
Though sullied and dishonoured, still divine;
Dim miniature of greatness absolute!
An heir of glory! a frail child of dust!
Helpless immortal! insect infinite!
A worm! a god! I tremble at myself,
And in myself am lost. At home a stranger,
Thought wanders up and down, surprised, aghast,
And wondering at her own. How reason reels!
Oh! what miracle to _man_ to _man_!
_Young._

Say, why was _man_ so eminently rais’d
Amid the vast creation; why ordain’d
Through life and death to dart his piercing eye,
With thoughts beyond the limits of his frame;
But that the Omnipotent might send him forth
In sight of mortal and immortal powers,
As on a boundless theatre, to run
The great career of justice; to exalt
His generous aim to all diviner deeds;
To chase each partial purpose from his breast;
And through the mists of passion and of sense,
And through the tossing tide of chance and pain,
To hold his course unfaltering; while the voice
Of truth and virtue, up the steep ascent
Of nature, calls him to his high reward--
The applauding smile of Heaven?
_Akenside._

Traveller, as roaming over vales and steeps,
Thou hast, perchance, beheld in foliage fair
A willow bending o’er a brook--it weeps,
Leaf after leaf, into the stream, till bare
Are the best boughs, the lovliest and the brightest,
Oh! sigh, for well thou may’st, yet as thou sighest,
Think not ’tis o’er imaginary woe;
I tell thee, traveller, such is mortal _man_,
And so he hangs o’er fancied bliss, and so,
While life is verging to its shortest span,
Drop one by one his dearest joys away,
Till hope is but the ghost of something fair,
Till joy is mockery, till life is care,
Till he himself is unreflecting clay.
_Henry Neele._

Whate’er of earth is formed, to earth returns
Dissolved: the various objects we behold--
Plants, animals, this whole material mass--
Are ever changing, ever new. The soul
Of _man_ alone, that particle divine,
Escapes the wreck of worlds, when all things fail:
Hence the great distance ’twixt the beasts that perish,
And God’s bright image, _man’s_ immortal race.
_Somerville._

Prostration vile, an alienate from God
_Man_ is, and shall his fallen nature rise,
Her height regain, and fill ethereal thrones?
Many a cloud of evil shall be burst,
Ere that day come, severe and dread the strife
Of sullied nature with the soul of _man_,
Whate’er his climate, character, or creed,
Temptation, like a spirit, tracks his path.
_R. Montgomery._

And what is _man_? In outward guise
Let him be prince, or peer, or slave,
Or poor and weak, or great and wise--
A mortal, tending to the grave:
Such are all _men_--from earth we came,
Earth doth her own poor dust reclaim.
_H. H. Weld._

But, of Thy works, through sea and land,
Or the wide fields of ether wending,
In _man_ Thy noblest thoughts are blending;
_Man_ is the glory of thy hand;--
_Man_ modelled in a form of grace,
Where every beauty has its place;
A gentleness and glory sharing
His spirit, where we may behold
A higher aim, a nobler daring:
’Tis Thine immortal mould.
_Jacob Bellamy._

When the Almighty Fiat, from the gloom
Of chaos drawn to light, had now arranged
The jarring seeds, the last, the most sublime
Of all His works, was _Man_ called forth; to him
The Sovereign Word gave empire o’er the whole.
_Samuel Hayes._

MARRIAGE.

Therefore shall a man leave his father and his mother, and shall cleave unto his wife: and they shall be one flesh.--Genesis, ii. 24.

And the third day there was a _marriage_ in Cana of Galilee; and the mother of Jesus was there:

And both Jesus was called, and his disciples to the _marriage_.--John, ii. 1, 2.

_Marriage_ is honourable in all.--Hebrews, xiii. 4.

Blessed are they which are called unto the _marriage_ supper of the Lamb.--Revelations, xix. 9.

Save the love we pay
To Heaven, none purer, holier than that
A virtuous woman feels, for him she’d cleave
Thro’ life to. Sisters part from sisters--brothers
From brothers--children from their parents--but
Such woman from the husband of her choice,
Never.
_Sheridan Knowles._

Joy, serious and sublime,
Such as doth nerve the energies of prayer,
Should swell the bosom, when a maiden’s hand,
Filled with life’s dewy flowerets, girdeth on
That harness which the ministry of death
Alone unlooseth, but whose fearful power
May stamp the sentence of Eternity.
_Mrs. Sigourney._

Look down, O Thou
Who wast at Cana! Bless the rite that’s past!
Help me to put a wedding-garment on
For the great _marriage_ supper; and to wear
Thy choice of ornaments, while I await
The coming of the Bridegroom.
_Hannah F. Gould._

There are smiles and tears in that gathering band,
Where the heart is pledged with the trembling hand.
What trying thoughts in the bosom swell,
As the bride bids parents and home farewell!
Kneel down by the side of the tearful fair,
And strengthen the perilous hour with prayer.
_Henry Ware, Jun._

MARTYRDOM.

And others had trial of cruel mockings and scourgings, yea, moreover of bonds and imprisonment;

They were stoned, they were sawn asunder, were tempted, were slain with the sword: they wandered about in sheep-skins and goat-skins; being destitute, afflicted, tormented;

(Of whom the world was not worthy:) they wandered in deserts, and in mountains, and in dens and caves of the earth.--Hebrews, xi. 36, 37, 38.

I saw the souls of them that were beheaded for the witness of Jesus, and for the Word of God.--Revelations, xx. 4.

The Sacred Book, its value understood,
Received the seal of _martyrdom_ in blood.
These holy men, so full of truth and grace,
Seem, to reflection, of a different race;
Meek, modest, venerable, wise, sincere,
In such a cause they could not dare to fear;
They could not purchase earth with such a price,
Or spare a life too short to reach the skies.
From them to thee conveyed along the tide,
Their streaming hearts poured freely when they died;
Those truths which neither use nor years impair,
Invite thee, woo thee, to the bliss they share.
_Cowper._

In vain the Roman lord
Waved the relentless sword,
And spread the terrors of the circling flame;
In vain the heathen sought,
If chance some lurking spot,
Might mar the lustre of the Christian name:
The Eternal Spirit, by His fruits confessed,
In life secured from stains, and steel’d in death, the breast.
_Bishop Mant._

The Son of God is gone to war,
A kingly crown to gain;
His blood-red banner streams afar;
Who follows in his train?
--Who best can drink his cup of woe,
Triumphant over pain;
Who boldest bears his cross below,--
He follows in his train.

The _martyr_ first, whose eagle-eye
Could pierce beyond the grave;
Who saw his Master in the sky,
And call’d on him to save:
Like him, with pardon on his tongue,
In midst of mortal pain,
He pray’d for them who did the wrong:
--Who follows in the train?
_Heber._

When persecution’s torrent blaze
Wraps the unshrinking _martyr’s_ head,
When fade all earthly flowers and bays,
When summer friends are gone and fled,
Is he alone in that dark hour,
Who owns the Lord of love and power?

Or waves there not around his brow,
A wand no human arm may wield,
Fraught with a spell no angels know,
His steps to guide, his soul to shield?
Thou, Saviour, art his Charmed Bower,
His Magic Ring, his Rock, his Tower.
_Keble._

In rendering to the Lord what is the Lord’s,
Doth not the thought of violence bring shame?
Think ye, He gave the branching forest-tree
To furnish fagots for the funeral pyre,
Or bid His sunrise light the world, to see
Pale, tortured victims perish there by fire?
_Mrs. Norton._

The blood of _martyrs_, living still,
Makes the ground pregnant where it flows,
And for their temporary ill
Thereon eternal triumph grows.
_J. A. Heraud._

Thy children, even as _martyrs_ perished:
Those first-loved fruits that sprang from thee,
From which thy heart was doomed to sever,
In praise of God, shall bloom for ever,
Unhurt, untouched, by tyranny.
_Vondel._

MEEKNESS.

The Lord lifteth up the _meek_.--Psalm cxlvii. 6.

The Lord taketh pleasure in his people: he will beautify the _meek_ with salvation.--Psalm cxlix. 4.

Blessed are the _meek_: for they shall inherit the earth.--Matthew, v. 5.

Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me: for I am _meek_ and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls.--Matthew, xi. 29.

O, what a doctrine of almighty depth
Messiah founded, when His truth declar’d
In _meekness_ lies the majesty of man!
At once the wisdom of the world was dumb,
And fortune blasted on her throne of bliss.
The ways of pleasantness, the paths of peace,
Are dim and narrow, tracks of noiseless gloom
Which glory flies, and grandeur seldom walks:
The poor in spirit, and the _meek_ in heart,
Who thirst and hunger for Thy righteous word.--
Oh! these are blest, for Thine unerring voice
Hath call’d them so.
_R. Montgomery._

Behold! where, in the friend of man,
Appears each grace divine:
The virtues, all in Jesus met,
With mildest radiance shine.

To spread the rays of heavenly light;
To give the mourner joy;
To preach glad tidings to the poor,
Was His divine employ.

’Midst keen reproach and cruel scorn,
Patient and _meek_ He stood;
His foes, ungrateful, sought His life;--
He laboured for their good.
_Enfield._

_Meek_ souls there are, who little dream
Their daily strife an angel’s theme;
And that the end they take so calm,
Shall prove in heaven a martyr’s palm.
_Anon._

MEETING.