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When one by one each human sound
Dies on the awful ear, Then Nature's voice no more is drowned,
She speaks, and we must hear.
Then pours she on the Christian heart
That warning still and deep, At which high spirits of old would start
E'en from their pagan sleep,
Just guessing, through their murky blind, Few, faint, and baffling sight,
Such thoughts, the wreck of Paradise, Through many a dreary age,
They marked what agonizing throes
Nor could the enchantress Hope forecast God's secret love and power;
The hour that saw from opening heaven
Redeeming glory stream, Beyond the summer hues of even,
Beyond the mid-day beam.
256 FOURTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY.
Thenceforth, to eyes of high desire,
The meanest things helow,
Invested, burn and glow:
The rod of heaven has touched them all,
"Hise, shine, and sing, thou captive thrall!
"The God who hallowed thee, and blest,
"Why mourn'st thou still as one bereft,
Now that th' eternal Son
To make thee all his own?"
Thou mourn'st because sin lingers still
Because our rebel works and will
Because, as Love and Prayer grow cold,
The Saviour hides his face,
With uses vile and base.
Hence all thy groans and travail-pains;
Hence, till thy God return,
O Nature, seem to mourn!
FS THERE, FOR HONEST POVERTY. — Burns.
Is there, for honest poverty,
That hangs his head, and a' that? The coward-slave, we pass him by,
We dare be poor for a' that! For a' that, and a' that,
Our toil's obscure, and a' that; The rank is but the guinea's stamp,
The man's the gowd for a' that!
What tho' on hamely fare we dine,
Wear hoddin gray, and a' that; Gie fools their silks, and knaves their wine,
A man's a man, for a' that S
Their tinsel show, and a' that,
Is king o' men for a' that!
Ye see yon birkie, ca'd a lord,
Wha struts, and stares, and a' that; Though hundreds worship at his word,
He's but a coof for a' that! For a' that, and a' that,
His riband, star, and a' that, The man of independent mind,
He looks and laughs at a' that!
A king can mak' a belted knight, A marquis, duke, and a9 that.
THE GREENWOOD SHRIFT.
For a' that, and a' that, Their dignities, and a' that,
Then let us pray that come it may, —
As come it will for a' that, —
May bear the gree, and a' that!
It's comin' yet, for a' that,
Shall brothers be for a' that!
THE GREENWOOD SHRIFT. — Blackwood's Magazine.
Outstretched beneath the leafy shade
A dying woman lay;
A woful wail that day.
u O mother!" was the mingled cry,
And leave us all alone."
In a low sobbing moan.
And then life struggled hard with death,
And peering through the deep wood's maze
Just then, the parting boughs between,
All breathless with her speed;
"Mother!" the little maiden cried,
And kissed her clay-cold cheek, "I have not idled in the town, But long went wandering up and down,
The minister to seek.
"They told me here, — they told me there, I think they mocked me everywhere;
And when I found his home,
Mother! he would not come.
641 told him how you dying lay,
Without the minister;
Mother! he would not stir.
"So, though my tears were blinding me, I ran back fast as fast could be,
To come again to you; And here — close by— this squire I met, Who asked (so mild !) what made me fret;
And when I told him true,