"Think'st thou to lurk in yonder wavering boughs,

Where even these earthly sunbeams glide and steal? Nay, speed thee forth while yet high grace allows, Lay bare thy wounds to Him who waits to heal.

"They only rankle in th' unwholesome shade;
But sun and air have soothing power, and He
Yearns to forgive, when hearts are lowly laid.
Even now behold His robe prepared for thee.

"These fluttering leaves the more unveil thy shame.
Fall humbly down, and hide thine eyes in dust :
He will upraise thee, for His own great Name;
His penance garb will make and show thee just."

6.

TELL THY MOTHER.

"Ye are not straitened in us, but ye are straitened in your own bowels."

WEARY Soul and burthened sore,
Labouring with thy secret load,
Fear not all thy grief to pour
In this heart, true Love's abode.

Think not all is hidden quite :
Mothers' ears are keen to hear,

Mothers' eyes are quick as light,
Glancing wide and watching near.

I with boding anguish read

Half your tale ere ye begin : Bitter drops in heart I bleed,

Penance for your shame and sin.

Grudge not thou thine eyes to hide

On this breast that aches for thee: Patient, kneeling, here abide

Till th' absolving Voice is free.

I from thy baptismal hour

Yearn for thee, hard heart and dry :

Seek my penitential bower,

In the dust beside me lie.

7.

ABSOLUTION.

"Whose sins ye forgive, they are forgiven."

LIVE ever in my heart, sweet awful hour,
When prostrate in my sin and shame I lay,
And heard the absolving accents fall with power,
As soft, as keen, as lambent lightnings play.

And sure with lightning glance they seem'd to thrill, (O may the dream prove true!) and search and

burn

Each foul dark corner of my lawless will.

What if the Spirit griev'd did then return ?—

O fear, O joy to think !--and what if yet,
In some far moment of eternity,

The lore of evil I may quite forget,

And with the pure in heart my portion be?

Live in my heart, dread blissful hope, to tame
The haughty brow, to curb the unchastened eye,
And shape to deeds of good each wavering aim;
O teach me some true penance ere I die !

8.

HOURS OF PRAYER.

Evening, and morning, and at noonday will I pray."

Down, slothful heart! how darest thou say,
"Call not so oft to pray?"

Behold, the Lord's own bounteous showers
Keep their appointed hours.

The forenoon saw the Spirit first

On orphan'd Saints in glory burst ;

At noontide hour Saint Peter saw

The sheet let down, heavenward all earth to draw; At eventide, when good Cornelius kneel'd

Upon his fasting day, an Angel shone revealed.

Untired is He in mercy's task,

Then tire not thou to ask.

He says not, "Yesterday I gave,

Wilt thou for ever crave ?"