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Yet have I pined as a bereaved child

For kindred bonds,-and felt my heart expand
With an unbounded love for thee, whose face
Is as a brother's, in this lonely place!"

X.

'Twas thus we met, and strong our friendship grew : My heart was changed, we laboured side by side,His very tone was like refreshing dew

That sheds its mild and genial influence wide.
And his meek, joyful spirit, round him threw
Gladness like sunshine; yet at times a tide
Came o'er his heart, of troubling memory,
And his strong soul was bowed recalling thee.

XI.

'For thou wast unto him as light and life,
And, next to God, within his soul enshrined ;—
Yet thinking on thy strength, his eye grew bright,
And his heart blessing thee, again resigned.—
For thou didst gird him for this holy fight,

And sent him forth, thy last one! nor repined.
Oh blessed mother of a Son like him,

Let not thy heart droop, nor thy faith be dim!

XII.

'Thy soul's desire was answered, when he stood,
Amid the swarthy people, 'neath a tree,
In some green opening of the ancient wood;
When his strong spirit's fervent energy,
That foreign tongue with awful power imbued,
Softening each heart, and bending every knee :
God worked by him, the humble, pure, and mild,
Mighty in zeal, yet gentle as a child.

XIII.

Man's savage heart was changed where'er he went, And the bleak desert blossomed as a field; For, on their welfare evermore intent,

He taught them how the affluent soil would yield Abundant harvests; late and early bent

In wearying toil, and with them sowed and tilled,Ay, even when Death had stricken him,-when each day, Drooping and weak, I saw him waste away.

XIV.

Yet was he not untended,-day and night
I watched by him; and when dark human fear
Clouded his soul, his faith's sublimest light,

I gave him back: God sent me there to cheer
With watchful tenderness his dying sight!

And with a fervent faith, and truth sincere, Our hearts were bound; and each unto the other In those last days was dearer than a brother.

XV.

But when his earthly course was well nigh run,
The holy fervour of his soul shone out

Brighter than even it before had done;

And then he knew no shriuking fear, nor doubt.
He saw the fight was o'er, the victory won,
And heard, in faith, the far triumphant shout!
Whilst the poor dwellers of the desert sate
Around him, weeping and disconsolate.

XVI.

'Hundreds came down to gaze upon his face,
To hear once more the gracious words that fell
Like pleasant waters in a barren place,

Soothing that sorrow nought else could dispel.

Then o'er his solemn features beamed his grace,
Such as on human brow doth rarely dwell,
And from his lips fell many an awful word,

Which ne'er shall leave the hearts of those who heard.

XVII.

'Mothers brought down their children, from his hand
To have a blessing; old men by his side
Knelt in their silent grief; and many a band

Of mourners sought their streaming tears to hide
In the green thickets, others on the sand
Sate pale and mute, by sorrow stupified:
Many his holy life had taught the faith,
But loftier, mightier, was his power in death.

XVIII.

'They saw the strength in which his soul was strong,
They felt the answer to his dying prayer;
Amazed, they heard his joy-o'erflowing tongue
Of heaven and immortality declare :

And he who was their light and hope so long,

Meekly they sought to follow;-from despair Confiding faith sprung up, and death was sent, To crown the work in which his life was spent.

XIX.

'He died-yet ere he died, he bade me take The Holy Book, a token of his rest,

And bid thee not have sorrow for his sake

Who, with the righteous dead, is surely blest. Then, childless Mother though thou art! awake From darkling dreams, that have thy soul oppressed; Awake: put on thy glorious robes, and raise

Unto thy God, and his, a song of praise!'

A PSALM OF PRAISE.

[BAXTER.]

YE holy angels bright,

Which stand before God's throne, And dwell in glorious light,

Praise the Lord each one.

ye

You there so nigh

Are much more meet
Than we the feet,
For things so high.

You blessed souls at rest,

That see your Saviour's face,
Whose glory, even the least
Is far above our grace;
God's praises sound,
As in his sight,

With sweet delight
You do abound.

All nations of the earth,

Extol the world's great King;

With melody and mirth,

His glorious praises sing.

For he still reigns,

And will bring low,
The proudest foe,
That him disdains.

Sing forth Jehovah's praise,

Ye saints that on him call:

Magnify him always,

His holy churches all:

In him rejoice;

And there proclaim

His holy name,
With sounding voice.

My soul bear thou thy part:
Triumph in God above;
With a well-tuned heart,

Sing thou the songs of love.
Thou art his own,

Whose precious blood
Shed for thy good,
His love made known.

He did in love begin,

Renewing thee by grace, Forgiving all thy sin,

Shew'd thee his pleasing face.

He did thee heal,

By his Son's merit,
And by his Spirit,
For glory seal.

In saddest thoughts and grief,

In sickness, fears, and pain,

I cried for his relief,

And it was not in vain.

He heard with speed;

And still I found
Mercy abound,

In time of need.

Let not his praises grow

On prosperous heights alone;

But in the vales below,

Let his great love be known.

Let no distress,

Curb and controul

My winged soul,

And praise suppress.

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