« VorigeDoorgaan »
That father, with a downcast eye, upon his threshold
stood, Gaunt poverty each pleasant thought had in his
heart subdued; • What is the creature's life to us ? ” said he, “'twill
buy us food!
Ay, though the children weep all day, and with
down-drooping head Each does his small craft mournfully!—the hungry
must be fed ; And that which has a price to bring, must go, to
buy us bread!”
It went -oh! parting hath a pang the hardest
heart to wring, But the tender soul of a little child with fervent
love doth cling, With love that hath no feignings false, unto each
Therefore most sorrowful it was those children
small to see,
Most sorrowful to hear them plead for their pet so
piteously :“Oh! mother dear, it loveth us: and what beside
** Let's take him off to the broad green hills,” in his
impotent despair, Said one strong boy, “ let's take him off, the hills
are wide and fair: I know a little hiding place, and we will keep him 'Twas vain! they took the little lamb, and straight
way tied him down, With a strong cord they tied him fast, and o'er
the common brown, And o'er the hot and flinty roads, they took him to
The little children through that day, and throughout
all the morrow, From every thing about the house a mournful
thought did borrow: The very bread they had to eat was food unto their
Oh! poverty is a weary thing, 'tis full of grief and
pain It keepeth down the soul of man, as with an iron
chain : It maketh even the little child with heavy sighs complain!
Exodus xv. 20.
Sound the loud timbrel * o'er Egypt's dark sea !
His chariots, his horsemen, all splendid and brave, How vain was their boasting ;—the Lord hath but
spoken, And chariots and horsemen are sunk in the wave. Sound the loud timbrel o’er Egypt's dark sea! Jehovah has triumph'd — his people are free.
* An instrument of music, the tambourine.
Praise to the Conqueror, praise to the Lord !
Of those she sent forth in the hour of her pride? For the Lord hath look'd out from his pillar of glory*,
And all her brave thousands are dash'd in the tide. Sound the loud timbrel o'er Egypt's dark sea! Jehovah has triumph'd, -his people are free.
THE OAK AND THE REED.
(FROM LA FONTAINE.)
THE Oak one day address’d the Reed :
The while, my tow'ring form
And wrestle with the storm.
That spread far round their friendly bow'r, Less suffering would your life have known,
Defended from the tempest's pow'r.
# Exodus xiv. 24.
Unhappily you oftenest show
In open air your slender form,
That fringe the kingdom of the storm.
Then modestly replied the Reed : “ Your pity, sir, is kind indeed, But wholly needless for my
I bend, indeed, but never break.
The savage blast
O'erthrew, at last,
What is the world !-- A wildering maze,
Her victims to ensnare :
All ending in despair. -
Millions of pilgrims throng those roads,
Down to eternal night ;
From darkness into light.
Is there a Guide to show that path ?
The Bible, need not stray:
Soft glowing in uncertain birth
'Twixt nature's smiles and tears, The bow, O Lord, which thou hast bent,
Bright in the cloud appears. The portal of thy dwelling-place
That pure arch seems to be, And, as I bless its mystic light,
My spirit turns to Thee.
Thus gleaming o'er a guilty world,
We hail the ray of love:-
Thy mercy from above;
Repentant sin forgiv'n,
LADY FLORA HASTINGS.