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Of His eventful life, till, lost in thought,
I almost bow the knee and lift my voice,
Assured that 't is no counterfeit I see.

I can forgive the worshipper who bows
Before this image, for I feel the power
It has to teach the heart.

It teacheth me:
For ever, as I gaze, I see the LORD
In some great scene He mingled in on earth,
And, even now,

the
ages
roll

away,
And I am taken back amid the crowd
That hung upon his path in Holy Land.
The vision deepens — let me write it here:

’T was evening in Judea.

Through the day The Saviour taught the people, and the crowd Still lingered, for the magic of His words Held every ear, and gently won their hearts.

Old men all their infirmities forgot, And swelled the number of His anxious train : Women were there, for He, whose voice they heard, Was unto them invested with a garb That won their gentle hearts with magic power.

All classes had their representatives : The artisan forgot his implements

SUFFER LITTLE CHILDREN TO COME UNTO ME.

3

The hewers and the drawers left their toil —
The poor had holiday when He appeared.

Thus through the day, untired, the Saviour toiled,
And taught the people till the evening closed,
And nature bade them seek their homes again.

Yet did not all depart: a little group Still lingered, and, with timid steps, approached The Teacher, ere He passed beyond their town. And they were mothers: each had clasped in hers The little hands of children, or their breasts Sustained the infants, yet unused to walk.

What sought they of the Saviour, that they bore
Their offspring in their weary arms so late,
And followed Him so far? Thus were they asked,
And by the Lord's disciples bade return,
Who yet rebuked them that they still pursued.

Not thus the Saviour: with a smile of love
He gently turned, rebuking them instead,
And bade the suppliants hasten to his side.

And then He stood, while, round His sacred feet,
The little cherubs clustered on their knees,
And lifted up His hands and blessed them all.
I see Him now: His lovely face is clothed
With a peculiar holiness and love,
From the eternal depth of those pure eyes,
Beams with unusual radiance.

He prays,

And to His Father doth commend the lambs
That are the emblems of His flock in heaven.
Then gently stooping, to His sacred breast
He folds them, one by one: on each pure

brow
His holy lips are pressed; and then He says,
“My Father's kingdom is of such as these."

How blest those mothers as from His embrace They took again their children to their own! How blest those children, into whose young

hearts The Spirit of their Holy Saviour stole !

And so the Lord passed on, ere long to be The King in mockery as I see Him now.

THE TEMPEST STILLED.

BY THE REV. I. GILBORNE LYONS, LL. D.

The strong winds burst on Judah's sea,

Far peal’d the raging billow,
The fires of heaven flash'd wrathfully,

When Jesus press’d his pillow;
The light frail bark was fiercely toss'd,
From
surge
to dark

surge leaping, For sails were torn and oars were lost,

Yet Jesus still lay sleeping.

When o'er that bark the loud waves roar'd,

And blasts went howling round her, Those Hebrews rous'd their wearied Lord,

“ Lord! help us, or we founder! He said, “ Ye waters, peace, be still !

The chaf'd waves sank reposing, As wild herds rest on field and hill,

When clear calm days are closing.

And turning to the startled men

Who watch'd that surge subsiding, He spake in mournful accents then

These words of righteous chiding, “Oye, who thus fear wreck and death,

As if by Heaven forsaken, How is it that ye have no faith,

Or faith so quickly shaken ? ”

Then, then, those doubters saw with dread

The wondrous scene before them; Their limbs wax'd faint, their boldness fled,

Strange awe stole creeping o'er them :“ This, this, they said, is Judah’s Lord, For

Him : Behold! He does but speak the word,

And winds and waves obey Him !”

powers divine

divine array

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