 | Poems by the late John Bethune |  |
RELIGION.
As valour is in hearts, and not in swords,
Religion is in thoughts, and not in words.
Religion is in thoughts, and not in words.
Religion walks not in the noon-day blaze,
With pedant pomp, that giddy men may gaze:
Hers is the soul sincere—the bashful heart:
She moves in silence through life's noisy mart.
Humility informs her mien divine,
And calm retirement is her holy shrine.
She goes not forth plumed in audacious pride,
With canting affectation by her side;
But those her gentle spirit would reclaim
From folly's mazes, and the path of shame,
She bears in prayer to Him, whose glorious part
It is to change, as well as rule the heart;
And, by her meek example, strives to teach
Where vanity would prompt to stand and preach!
Nor will she ere to slander condescend:
She veils the failings which she cannot mend.
A friend to all that heart must ever prove,
Whose every thought and feeling still is love.
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The spot which Misery moistens with a tear;
Where her soft hand, unknown to all, may pour
The cordial to disease, and health restore:
Or, under cloud of night, while luxury sleeps,
And penury alone his vigil keeps,
She takes her way to where the cottage low
Lies buried in a mass of drifted snow,
And there, depositing her generous boon,
Glides silently away beneath the moon;
Leaving its inmates in amazement deep,
Too happy to enjoy, or wish for sleep;
While she retires, far from their grateful lays,
Well pleased, if good is done, to lose the praise.
| Poems by the late John Bethune | |