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Lost the fair tracery of youth, and wore
A deeper signet, in my manhood's prime-To lay me down with those who wake no more,
It calls me—those I loved, their couch be mine: I hear sweet voices from my childhood's home, And from
come! Blest be the warning sound: my mother's eyes
Dwell on my memory yet, her parting tears, And from the grave where my young sister lies,
Who perished in the glory of her years, , I hear a gentle call, “ Return, return!"
So be it: let me greet the village spires Once more. I come—’tis wilding youth may
spurn, When far, the burial-places of his sires; But oh, when strength is gone, and hope is past, There turns the wearied man his thoughts at last. So do we change! I hear a warning tone
Yea, I, whose thoughts were all of bypast times, Of ancient glories, and from visions lone,
I come to list once more the sabbath chimes Of my own home—to feel the gentle air
Steal o'er my brow again—to greet the sun In the old places where he shone so fair,
The while each wandering brook in music ran, Answering to Youth's sweet thoughts, but all
to join thy dead!
My early friends; let the bruised heart go free:
Mine were high fancies, but a wayward lot
Hath made my youthful dreams in sadness flee; Then chide not, I would linger yet awhile,
Thinking o'er wasted hours, a weary train, Cheered by the moon's soft light, the sun's glad
smile, Watching the blue sky o'er my path of pain, Waiting my summons: whose shall be the
eye To glance unkindly ?-I have come to die ! Sweet words—to die!oh pleasant, pleasant sounds,
What bright revealings to my heart they bring! What melody, unheard in earth’s dull rounds,
And floating from the land of glorious SpringThe eternal home! My weary thoughts revive, Fresh flowers my mind puts forth, and buds of
love, Gentle and kindly thoughts for all that live,
Fanned by soft breezes from the world above: And passing not, I hasten to my restAgain, oh, gentle summons, thou art blest !
Abide with Prayer.
My blessed Lord, art thou ! how suddenly
Of what supreme almighty power
And tacks the centre to the sphere!
Of what unmeasurable love
Since then these three wait on thy throne,
That were I to leave all but one, Wealth, fame, endowments, virtues, all should go: I, and dear prayer, would together dwell, And quickly gain, for each inch lost, an ell.
port of all
A Pledge for the Pure in Heart. WHERE art thou 2--Thou! source and supThat is or seen or felt; thyself unseen, Unfelt, unknown-alas! unknowable. I look abroad among thy works—the sky, Vast, distant, glorious with its world of suns
Life-giving earth, and ever-moving main,
inward From each material thing its anxious guest, If, in the stillness of the waiting soul, He may vouchsafe himself-Spirit to spirit! O Thou, at once most dreaded and desired, Pavilioned still in darkness, wilt thou hide thee? What though the rash request be fraught with
fate, Nor human eye may look on thine and live? Welcome the penalty ! let that come now, Which soon or late must come. For light like
Who would not dare to die?
Peace! my proud aim, And hush the wish that knows not what it asks. Await His will, who hath appointed this, With every other trial. Be that will Done now, as ever. For thy curious search, And unprepared solicitude to gaze On Him—the Unrevealed-learn hence, instead, To temper highest hope with humbleness. Pass thy novitiate in these outer courts, Till rent the veil, no longer separating The Holiest of all—as erst, disclosing A brighter dispensation; whose results Ineffable, interminable, tend Even to the perfecting thyself—thy kindTill meet for that sublime beatitude, By the firm promise of a voice from heaven Pledged to the pure in heart!
Abide with Me.
The darkness deepens : Lord, with me abide!