How strong a mother's clasp,
Her frail babe round, when dangers hover near!
She shuns nor fang of beast, nor tongue of asp,
Fire, flood, nor storm-disease, woe, want, nor fear,
That roam along, like wolves upon the wild :
-Yet may a Mother loose her fondest grasp,
And spurn her child!
Yea! Time, and busy Death,
And seeds of sin that in men's bosoms lie,
Striking their cancerous roots with every breath,
Flushing the cheek, and firing fierce the eye-
O how with earth-born love they roughly deal,
Till, back retiring to its source beneath,
It cease to feel!
Yet there's a love beyond
All love of earth-that lives, and rears its head
When Love and Friendship bow beneath Time's wand,
And all a mother's dear delights have fled—
That Sin may not defile, nor Years corrode,
Nor e'en the arm of Death unloose-a bond
Close knit by God!
Stronger than Earth and Hell,
The cords that drew Paul's brethren on their way,
The friend to meet unknown, yet known so well,
As the sweet impulse wrought its secret sway :
SELF had not wove the knot, and could not part,
Hand linked to hand by a celestial spell,
And this the road they sped,
Mingling sweet converse with affection's tear;
While Peace and Joy their hallowed influence shed—
Spurning all pain, shame, lassitude, or fear
Of coming trial:-Why should they complain,
Who favoured are to bleed where Jesus bled,
With Him to reign?
Each had his office then :
The one, as bound with Christ, the cross to bear,
And gather graces in the lion's den:
The rest, in his vicissitudes to share
Nor they alone, for Faith, amid the throng,
-O grace, unmerited by sinful men !
Saw JESUS move along!
MARVEL NOT, MY BRETHREN, IF THE WORLD HATE YOU.-1 JOHN III. 13.
DARK the night-the sun will wake
Beauteous on the dawning morrow;
Gleams of mercy soon will break
O'er the clouds of pain and sorrow;
Whom Christ loves His arm can save,
From the fire, the sword, the wave!
Fear not! loved one! tho' man's arm
In his iron foldings bound thee;
He will rise, whose word can charm
All the dangers that surround thee;
Thine the promise-trust Him still-
His the means, to work His will.
1 Said to be the spot on which S. John was plunged into a vessel of boiling
Giant arches! bowed by Time,
With the snows of ages hoary,
Glowing 'neath a golden clime,
Witness to your Master's glory;
Ye beheld His banners rise
O'er the heathen's sacrifice!
Meek the loved disciple stood,
Mid the heavings of commotion,
While the nation for his blood
Wrestled like a foaming ocean—
See him now, the gate beside,
Plunged beneath the boiling tide!
'Where is now his feigned trust? Where the God he counts his treasure?
Can He save his child of dust,
When the world's queen works her pleasure?'
-Fools! with that poor worm of clay
Stands the Lord of life and day!
And he knows it-see! how calm,
Mid the storm of passion raging;
He hath felt some heavenly balm
The rude elements assuaging;
And he hails his couch of rest,
As a babe its mother's breast.
Nought can stay the Saviour's word;
Till He come his child must tarry; 1
What is Rome before Rome's Lord,
But his people's sanctuary!
Earth and hell may join the hand,
They must wait on His command.
Lo! He touched the boiling wave,
And it rolled like cooling water,
And to Rome a signal gave,
That it claimed no power of slaughter :
Tho' she scorned Jehovah still,
It was bound to do His will.
But the scene-how changed! around
Ruin spreads her many a token—
Calmly sleeps the desert-ground,
As a couch for rest unbroken :
For the Eternal City call!—
-Lo! this gate and crumbling wall!
She hath fled the unhallowed pale,2
And the evening breeze is sighing,
With a low and mournful wail,
Like a requiem for the dying
2 Rome, as is well known, has shrunk to within half the space enclosed by the walls. The Latin Gate, now never opened, is thus secluded amid fields and high stone enclosures.
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