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Hast thou no mark of these? and yet
Full in thy sight His Law was set.
O, if He joy'd the Cross to bear,
With patience take thy little share.

5.

CONFESSION.

"And they heard the voice of the Lord God walking in the garden in the cool of the day: and Adam and his wife hid themselves from the presence of the Lord God amongst the trees of the garden."

DIDST thou not hear how soft the day-wind sighed,
How from afar that sweeping breath it drew,
Waved the light rustling branches far and wide,

Then died away, then rose and moaned anew?

Sure if aright our morning prayers were said,

We in those tones the Almighty's unseen walk Shall hear, nor vainly shun the Presence dread, Which comes in mercy with our souls to talk.

"Where art thou, child of earth?" He seems to say, "Why hide so deep from Love's all-seeing eye?""I heard and feared, for I have sinned to-day."

"What? know'st thou not the Almighty One was by?

"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.

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