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THE CROSS LAID ON INFANTS.
“ And as they led him away, they laid hold upon one Simon, Cyrenian, coming out of the country, and on him they laid the cross, that he might bear it after Jesus."
I brook the lash of scorn or woe
I have deserved it all.
But these my tender sheep, What have they sown, such ill to reap ? Why should a new-born babe the watch of sorrow
Stay thee, sad heart, or ere thou breathe thy plaint,
And still thee, murmuring tongue,
Whose brows with anguish wrung
On the rough way drop blood ; How rushing round Him like a flood, They drag Him, fallen beneath the accursed and
Nor Him alone. They seize upon his way,
Early that fearful morn,
Part of the pain and scorn,
Part of the Cross : who knows Which in his secret heart he chose, The persecutors' peace, or the meek Saviour's woes ?
Bowed he with grudging mind the yoke to bear,
Or was the bitter sweet
On unseen pinions fleet
The hosts of scorn and love : With the sad train they onward move :Owns he the raven's wing, or the soft gliding Dove ?
O surely, when the healing Rood he felt,
The sacrificial fire
And with true heart's desire
He set where JESUS trode His steps along the mountain road, Still learning more and more of His sweet awful load.
Thou leanest o’er thine infant's couch of pain :
It breaks thine heart, to see
Would reach and cling to thee.
Yet is there quiet rest Prepared upon the Saviour's breast For babes unconscious borne on Calvary to be blest.
Nor to the darlings of thine aching heart,
Nor to thine own weak soul,
The Cross that maketh whole
Met unawares, and laid Upon the unresisting head, The tottering feet upon
of sorrow led.
What if at times the playful hand, though weak,
From the safe bosom part
And find it thorns, and start
With grieved and wondering call ? Who but would joy, one drop should fall Out of his own dull veins, for Him who spared us all ?
“ Forbear to cry, make no mourning for the dead, bind the tire of thine head upon thee, and put on thy shoes upon thy feet, and cover not thy lips, and eat not the bread of men."
66 TEARS are of Nature's best, they say ;
Eyes that with answering glow
On sights of fear and woe.”
“Nay, soft and wavering shows the heart
And harsher by and by
That hurries down our sky."