But they, the solitary pair, Like pitying angels poured Man knew not of that secret grief, Which in their bosoms lay; And for the sinful brother's sin, Yet harder doom had they. But God, who trieth hearts; who knows Of mortal good and ill; He saw those poor despised ones, Yet bade him not return. In his good time that weak one's woe, And the poor prodigal, himself, The erring brother was away, And none could tell his fate; And the young sister at the loom Sate drooping, desolate. She mourned not for her parents dead, Nor for the breezy shore : And now the weary, jangling loom Like one that worketh in a dream, So worked she day by day, Intent upon the loving grief, Which on her spirit lay; And as she worked, and as she grieved And they who saw her come and go, Alone the kinsman pitied not; He chid her, that no more The frame was strong, the hand was swift, As it had been before. -All for the child was dark on earth, When holy angels bright Unbarred the golden gates of heaven For her one winter's night. Within a chamber poor and low, Upon a pallet bed, She lay, and "hold my hand, sweet friend," Oh hold my hand, sweet Marien,” ""Tis darksome all-Oh, drearly dark' She told of Lazarus, how he lay, "I go!-yet still, dear Marien, One last boon let me win!Seek out the poor lost prodigal, And bring him back from sin! "I go! I go!" and angels bright, -And now, upon that selfsame night, Lay the rich kinsman wrapped in lawn, Scheming deep schemes of gold, he lay Just then an awful form spake low, And when into that chamber fair - Beside his door stood solemn mutes; Where hung was pall, and mourning lights Made show of grief for him. Full fifty muffled mourners stood, Around the scutcheoned bed, That held the corse, as if, indeed, A righteous man were dead. Within a tomb, which he had built, Of costly marble-stone, They buried him, and plates of brass His name and wealth made known. A coffin of the meanest wood, The little child received; And o'er her humble, nameless grave, No hooded mourner grieved. Only kind Marien wept such tears, As the dear Saviour shed, When in the house of Bethany He mourned for Lazarus dead. PART XI. Now from the miser kinsman's house Dwelt Marien; and each day, For many an abject dweller there, Grief-bowed and labour-spent, Groaned forth, amid his little ones, To heaven his sad lament; And unto such, to raise, to cheer, The sent of God, she went. But she who, even as they, was poor, And warmed, and clothed, and fed. And when a sickness sore befel, Kind hearts there were who came to her, And afterwards, when evil men Oh, blessed Christian hearts, who thus Did deeds of love; for as to Christ These righteous works were done! Thus dwelt sweet Marien in the town She found him not; but yet she found To these repentant, outcast ones, She spake kind words of grace, And led them back, with yearning hearts, To seek the Father's face; To find forgiveness in His heart, And love in His embrace. Oh blessed, blessèd Marien! He saw his little sister pine; He saw her silent woe; He saw her strength decline, yet still As this he saw, yet more and more He bare an altered mind; But so it is! and when the twain In suffering, 'gainst the tempter's might He was their easy prey; their tool; Yet often to his soul came back Sweet memory of the time, And like a heavier, wearier woe, He thought of slighted Marien, And of the sister meek; The faithful and the weak! He heard his loving parent's voice Yet, for the hated kinsman's sake, And, because man was hard to him, Thus doing outrage to his soul, A sexton there at work he found; Replied he, "in this wide church-yard Alone seems holy ground." And then he told of Marien, And how she there had wept Over the child, that 'neath the mould, In dreamless quiet slept. "A little, friendless pauper child, She lieth here," said he; "Yet not a grave in all the ground Like this affecteth me!" Saying this, he wiped a tear aside, And turned from the place; -He left the town; and in a ship, Pursued her from the land. At first disease was 'mong her men; Next mutiny brake forth; and then As if there were no port for her, Anon a tempest rose, and drove The ship before the gale, Her rudder, mast, and sail. On the fourth night dark land appeared, At day-break only he remained To note the vessel's fate; The Crusoe of a desert isle, Abject and desolate. -The world went on as it was wont; And in the busy market-place, Upon the hearths of poor men's homes The loneliest hut among the hills Men might not dwell alone. He clomb the cliffs to look afar He lit his beacon fires at night; He was not missed among his kind, - His lonely misery came. God saw him; saw his broken heart, Saw how his human pride was gone, Saw him and loved him. Broken heart, - Now Marien from the trading town Amid the seas was driven; Where dwelt a gentle race at rest As simple as a child's. With them abode sweet Marien: As in a slender carved boat Upon the shore she lay, A strong wind came, and filled the sail, She had no fear, true Marien;- The prodigal upon his rock Was kneeling, and his prayer For confidence in heaven, arose Upon the evening air, Just as the little boat approached The island bleak and bare. The boat ran up a creek, as if, Twere steered by angels good; And ere the evening prayer was done Beside the youth she stood. The chiefest joy it hath not words And as if he had seen a sprite, His spirit died away. Then with clasped hands, and broken speech, And tears that ceaseless flowed; He poured forth from his full heart A fervent praise of God. PART XII. "BUT let us hence," said Marien; A light breeze from the desert shore And the little boat sailed on before, As friends long parted, met once more, And as they sailed, sweet Marien And of the weary prodigal Returning bowed with shame, And the good father hastening forth To meet him as he came; And how he bade the fairest robe Be brought; the golden ring; Shoes for the feet; and music sweet, As if to hail a king. "For this, my son," said he, " was dead, And is alive; is found, Who was long lost; 'tis meet, therefore, That stintless joy abound!" "Oh, child of woe," said Marien, "Look up, for thou art he; And round about the Father's throne Many rejoice for thee!" "Oh Lord, I bless thee," said the youth, "That of thy mercy great, Thou hast vouchsafed to rescue me And henceforth, to thy work of love "The meanest of thy creatures, low I bend before thy throne, And offer my poor self to make Thy loving-kindness known! "Oh father, give me words of power, "Thy love which wearieth not; which like Thy sun, on all doth shine! Oh Father, let me worship Thee I love not life; I ask not wealth; My heart and soul, my youth and health, So spake the youth; but now the boat Which, like a cloudland realm of bliss, Skyward rose sunny peaks, pale-hued, And crested palms, broad-leaved and tall, A lovely land of flowers, as fair As Paradise, ere sin And sorrow, that corrupting pair, A lovely land!" And even now," "For these, God kept thee in the wild, For these, his people, through distress "Thy work is here! Go forth, 'mid these Oh servant of the Lord, and tell Down to the shore the thousands came, To welcome Marien back, whom they "And welcome to thee, little child!" They sang forth sweet and clear; "And welcome to the stranger poor, Who cometh with thee here!" And then they brought him silken cloth, And ever as they served him, They sang forth sweet and low, "Would this repose might solace thee, These apples cure thy woe!" And though the twain knew not their speech, Yet well they understood The looks of love that welcomed them, Their actions kind and good. With them for many a year abode The youth, and learned their tongue; And with the sound of Christian praise The hills and valleys rung. Oh beautiful beyond all lands That lay beneath the moon, A joyful people there they dwelt, And with them dwelt the holy youth, Willing himself to spend. Like to some ancient church of Christ, But now the work he had to do Was done; and ere his day Approached its noon, his strength, his life, Was wearing fast away. They saw his cheek grow thin and pale; Old men, and youths, and women meek, Sad mourners knelt in prayer, And round about his feet they sat, Now all this while good Marien Had wandered far and wide, Through divers realms, for many a year, The hand of Heaven her guide. And now unto the glorious isle "T was Sabbath eve, and o'er the isle A stil.ness, how unlike the calm Of many a Sabbath day! A hush, as of suspended breath, Through the still vales went Marien, Onward she went, not many steps, With heart of mournful ruth, Beside him knelt she on the turf, And spoke in accents low Words of strong love, which like new life He raised himself, and blessing God, Had sent his angel there; With low-toned voice, more musical "Oh friends, belovèd friends! weep not, That I am called to go! "Fain would I tarry, but the cry Hath sounded in mine ear, "Even like the Master whom I serve, "I go, but leave you not forlorn, "Oh weep not, friends; a better home Awaits me, and I go, But to that home which is prepared For ye who love me so! The Sabbath sun went down amid A golden, cloudless sky; And the freed spirit, cleansed from sin, Beneath the trees where he had died. |