I for thy sake was pierced with many sorrows,
And bore the cross,

Yet heeded not the galling of the arrows,
The shame and loss;

So faint not thou, whate'er the burden be:
But bear it bravely ev'n to Calvary!

Anonymous Translation.

JEROME SAVONAROLA.

Consolation.

PILGRIM burdened with thy sin,

Come the way to Zion's gate,

There, till mercy lets thee in,

Knock, and weep, and watch, and wait.
Knock! He knows the sinner's cry;
Weep! He loves the mourner's tears;
Watch !—for saving grace is nigh;
Wait-till heavenly light appears.

Hark! it is the Bridegroom's voice:
Welcome, pilgrim, to thy rest;
Now within the gate rejoice,

Safe, and sealed, and bought, and blest.
Safe-from all the lures of vice,

Sealed-by signs the chosen know,

Bought by love, and life the price,
Blest-the mighty debt to owe.

Holy pilgrim! what for thee

In a world like this remain ?
From thy guarded breast shall flee

Fear, and shame, and doubt, and pain.
Fear—the hope of heaven shall fly,

Shame-from glory's view retire,

Doubt-in certain rapture die,

Pain-in endless bliss expire.

GEORGE CRABBE.

"LOOKED UPON PETER."

379

"Christ turned and looked upon Peter."

I

THINK that look of Christ might seem to say

"Thou, Peter! art thou then a common stone,

Which I at last must break my heart upon,

For all God's charge to his high angels may
Guard my foot better? Did I yesterday
Wash thy feet, my beloved, that they should run
Quick to deny me 'neath the morning sun?
And do thy kisses, like the rest, betray?
The cock crows coldly. Go, and manifest
A late contrition, but no bootless fear!
For when thy deadly need is bitterest,
Thou shall not be denied as I am here;
My voice, to God and angels, shall attest-
Because I knew this man let him be clear!"

ELIZABETH B. BROWNING.

"Looked upon Peter."

WHAT

HAT might it be that glance could paint?
Did one deep-touching impress blend

The more than sage-the more than saint-
The more than sympathizing friend?

Was it that lightning thought retraced
Some hallowed hour beneath the moon?
Or walk, or converse high, that graced
The temple's columned shade at noon?

Say, did that face, to memory's eye,
With gleams of Tabor's glory shine?
Or did the dews of agony

Still rest upon that brow divine?

I know not;--but I know a will

That, Lord! might frail as Peter's be!

A heart that had denied thee still,

E'en now-without a look from thee!

SAMUEL M. WARING.

PRA

Prayer.

RAYER is the soul's sincere desire
Uttered or unexpressed;

The motion of a hidden fire

That trembles in the breast.

Prayer is the burthen of a sigh,—
The falling of a tear;—
The upward glancing of an eye
When none but God is near.

Prayer is the simplest form of speech
That infant lips can try;

Prayer the sublimest strains that reach
The Majesty on high.

Prayer is the Christian's vital breath-
The Christian's native air;

His watchword at the gates of death,
He enters Heaven with prayer. ·

Prayer is the contrite sinner's voice
Returning from his ways,

While angels on their wings rejoice,
And cry," Behold, he prays!"

The saints in prayer appear as one
In word, and deed, and mind,
When with the Father, Spirit, Son,
Sweet fellowship they find.

STRIVE, WAIT, AND PRAY.

Nor prayer is made on earth alone:

The Holy Spirit pleads,-
And Jesus on the eternal throne,
For sinners intercedes.

O Thou, by whom we come to God!
The Life-the Truth-the Way!
The path of prayer thyself hast trod :
Lord, teach us how to pray!

JAMES MONTGOMERY.

Strive, Wait, and Pray.

TRIVE: yet I do not promise

STRE

The prize you dream of to-day

Will not fade when you think to grasp it,
And melt in your hand away;

But another and holier treasure,
You would now perchance disdain,
Will come when your toil is over,
And pay you for all your pain.

Wait yet I do not tell you

The hour you long for now,

Will not come with its radiance vanished,
And a shadow upon its brow;

Yet, far through the misty future,

With a crown of starry light,

An hour of joy you know not
Is winging her silent flight.

Pray though the gift you ask for
May never comfort your fears-
May never repay your pleading-
Yet pray, and with hopeful tears ;

381

An answer, not that you long for,
But diviner will come one day;
Your eyes are too dim to see it,
Yet strive, and wait, and pray.

ADELAIDE A. PROCTER.

Incompleteness.

NOTHING resting in its own completeness,

Can have worth or beauty: but alone

Because it leads and tends to farther sweetness,
Fuller, higher, deeper than its own.

Spring's real glory dwells not in the meaning,
Gracious though it be, of her blue hours;
But is hidden in her tender leaning

Toward the summer's richer wealth of flowers.

Dawn is fair, because her mists fade slowly
Into day which floods the world with light;
Twilight's mystery is so sweet and holy,
Just because it ends in starry night.

Life is only bright when it proceedeth
Toward a truer, deeper Life above :
Human love is sweetest when it leadeth
To a more divine and perfect love.

Childhood's smiles unconscious graces borrow,
From strife that in a far-off future lies;
And angel glances veiled now by life's sorrow,
Draw our hearts to some beloved eyes.

Learn the mystery of progression duly :

Do not call each glorious change decay; But know we only hold our treasures truly, When it seems as if they passed away.

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