Home Sickness.

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A holy home, a refuge-bower,

For Saints in evil hour,

Where child, and slave, and household maid,

Of their own joy afraid,

As parent's voice familiar own

The pastoral Apostolic tone.

"Tis heard, and each the race would win

To tell the news within.

A holy household! yet beware!
Even here may lurk a snare.

These home delights, so keen and pure,
May not for aye endure.

Ere long, perchance, a sterner sound

Will summon: where wilt thou be found?

Even holy homes may hearts beguile,

And mar God's work a while.

10.

ILL TEMPER.

"JESUS was casting out a Devil, and it was dumb: and it came to pass, when the Devil was cast out, the dumb spake."

NoT often bends the face of heaven and earth

A dull and joyless brow

On hearts that own meek love and quiet mirth :
But such their aspect now.

Slowly and late through leaden skies
The scanty lights of morning rise,
And hour by weary hour

The hard stern outlines loom around
Of hill by many a frost embrowned,

Pine top, and leafless forest bower.

And days have been, wild days of stormy wing,
O'er-powering breath and thought,

When the dark clouds plied each its heavy sling,

And air and ocean wrought

As erst o'er Noe, hiding all

The bright hues of this earthly ball.

4

The traveller on his way

Was like a pinnace on the deep,

Whirling around as rude waves sweep,
The sport of every gust and spray.

So, happy childhood, thine enchanted clime
Two evil spirits mar,

This wild, that sullen: o'er the unlovely prime
Looks out no lingering star,

No softly-brightening trail of morn:

Their day, in gloom or tempest born,

Lowers on till noon and night

:

Because the new-born soul made haste

Love's christening gift to scorn or waste,
Fretting or fierce, in Angels' sight.

Yet burns the sun on high beyond the cloud :
Each in his southern cave

The warm winds linger, but to be allowed
One breathing o'er the wave,

One flight across the unquiet sky ;—
Swift as a vane may turn on high

The smile of heaven comes on.

So waits the Lord behind the veil,
His light on frenzied cheek or pale

To shed when the dark hour is gone.

O ye who feel the dumb deaf spirit's breath
About your heart and home,

As in foul cavern spreading damps of death,
Where only Love should come ;—

Who mark, how wane the lamps of prayer
Where sullen thoughts are in the air ;—
Haste, to the Healer bring

The moody silent one: perchance

He at the mighty word and glance

With Saints will hear, with Angels sing.

But if the frenzy fire blaze out, and cast
The sparks of Stygian glow,

Wild evil words, such showers as rode the blast
In Sodom's overthrow;

If tossing limb and glaring eye
Declare the o'ermastering agony;
On Tabor's crown behold

The

pure calm glory: JESUS there

Ill Temper.

Hath spent the summer night in prayer :
There be your tale of anguish told.

Faint not, if prayer of man find tardy grace
Though saintly knees be bowed,

But wait untired beneath the mountain's base;
Soon will the healing Cloud

Toward thee descend,—the voice of Love
Through the glad air will gently move :-
"Believe, and all may be :"—

The voice of Power command afar

The rushings of that ireful war,

And heart and tongue for prayer be free.

Nay, doubt it not: He gave His signs of yore,
When Angels at the porch

Met thee, and led along the sacred floor,
And from their unseen torch

Shrank muttering to his penal fire
The Demon Shade, companion dire

Of all in evil born.

Within thee, if thou wilt, be sure

That happy hour's strong spells endure,

The seal of heaven, not all outworn.

K

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