Poems :: :: University of Virginia Library

With patient toil and thought profound,
There are, who can all depths explore,
And, in didactic phrase, expound
The wondrous things of sacred lore.
High privilege is theirs—to hold
The torch which lights our narrow way,
And to unlearned hearts unfold
The hidden life, the word, the way.

II

But woe to such! if learned pride,
Or fancy, with her restless eye,
Still searching, still unsatisfied,
Where holiest angels fear to pry—

If bigot's hate, or zealot's ire,
Corrupt the faith which God hath given
To kindle in their hearts the fire
That leads and lights mankind to Heaven!

III

And others are there, set apart
Through gifts which heavenly grace confers,
To heal the bruised and sunken heart,
Of peace and love blest ministers.
The soothing tone—the cheering smile—
The heart with kindness brimming o'er—
The speech which doth all griefs beguile—
The looks which banish'd peace restore—

IV

The liberal hand—the patient zeal—
The sympathy in darkest cares—
The pleasant ways to help and heal—
The death-bed solace—all are theirs!
Through this world's haunts of shame and sin
With love unwearied, let them roam,
Men's hearts, by gentlest lures, to win,
And lead them, to their Father, home.

V

Each hath his proper gift of God—
His own peculiar taste assign'd—
His path of duty to be trod—
His debt of service to mankind.
Do thou, in simple trust, thy part—
Teach, toil, give, suffer, hope and pray,
And He, who sees thy secret heart,
Thy work shall bless—thy pains repay.

FROM THE GOSPEL.

I

Wondrous was thy path on Earth,
'Midst our human grief and mirth;
All our good, and all our ill,
Feeling, Lord, yet sinless still!

II

Though thy hand upholds the spheres,
Thou could'st pity children's tears:
Though to thee Death yields his prey,
Thou could'st gaze on children's play.

III

At our feasts of sober glee
Thou would'st oft vouchsafe to be:
When thou cam'st thy friend to save,
Thou could'st weep beside his grave.

IV

At thy bidding, social mirth
And heart-gladdening cheer had birth,
When thou bad'st the goblets shine
With pure water turn'd to wine.

V

Then, in humble love's abode,
Livelier pleasure gleam'd and glow'd;
Then, from rustic lips devout,
Songs of joyous praise brake out:

VI

And thy glistening eyes might see,
In their blithe festivity,
What our earthly feasts had been
But for death and but for sin.

VII

Fie on unrestrain'd excess!
Fie on hateful drunkenness!
Fie on each unhallow'd feast
Whence thy love and name have ceased!

VIII

For thou still dost condescend
To our hearths and homes to send
Blessings on the social cheer
Of the hearts that love thee here.

IX

Thy transforming influence still
Into good turns all our ill;
Or, from weak and worthless things,
Holy joy and comfort brings.

X

Sensual passion, lust obscene,
Wrath and hatred fierce and keen,
Thy poor presence doth transmute
To the Spirit's choicest fruit.

XI

When the sacred nuptial rite
Doth pure heart to heart unite,
Thou canst make permitted love
Pure as that of saints above.

XII

What to our gross sense doth seem
Water of the fontal stream,
Thou canst change, by power divine,
To celestial milk and wine.

XIII

But for thee, sin's hateful gloom
Soon would make this Earth a tomb;
But where thy bright face hath shone,
Grief and fear at once are gone.

XIV

In thy path all things look bright,
Mortal darkness turns to light,
And, e'en here, our mental eye
Heavenly glories may descry.

XV

O be with us, gracious Lord,
Near our bed and at our board,—
By our fireside's pleasant cheer,
When the winter nights are drear.

XVI

Through the livelong summer day,
When our hearts are blithe and gay,
From all taint of fleshly ill
Purify our gladness still.

XVII

All that doth our hearts estrange,
From thy service—come and change
Into fervent love of thee,
By thy potent alchymy.

XVIII

So that when new Heavens and Earth
At thy bidding shall have birth,
Purged from all our dross of sin,
We may dwell with thee therein.