THE LOVE OF GOD.
[Bold and vigorous.]
Could oceans, rivers, springs, and lakes,
All that the name of water takes
Beneath the expanded sky,
Be turned to ink of blackest hue,
And every drop of falling dew,
To make the wonder rise:
A book so large could we suppose,
Which thinnest paper could compose,
As the whole earthly ball;
Were every shrub and every tree,
And every blade of grass we see,
A pen to write withal;
Were all that ever lived on earth,
Since nature first received her birth,
Most skilful scribes, to place
In clearest light that wondrous love
Found in the heart of God above
Towards Adam's ruined race;
Were each Methusaleh in age,
And every moment wrote a page,
They'd all be tired and die;
The pens would every one wear out,
The book be filled within-without,
The ink be drained all dry;
And then to show that love, oh! then,
Angels above as well as men,
Archangels e'en would fail;
NAY-TILL ETERNITY SHOULD END,
A WHOLE ETERNITY THEY'D SPEND,
AND NOT HAVE TOLD THE TALE.
TRUE LOVE.
[For a little girl.]
"How much I love you, mother dear,"
A little prattler said;
"I love you in the morning bright,
And when I go to bed.
"I love you when I'm near to you,
And when I'm far away;
I love you when I'm at my work,
And when I am at play."
And then she slyly, sweetly raised
Her lovely eyes of blue:
"I love you when you love me best,
And when you scold me, too."
The mother kissed her darling child,
And stooped a tear to hide;
"My precious one, I love you most
When I am forced to chide.
I could not let my darling child
In sin and folly go,
And this is why I sometimes chide,
BECAUSE I LOVE YOU SO."
LOVE THY NEIGHBOUR.
BY GEORGE W. BUNGAY.
For others' weal let good men labour,
And not for fame or paltry pelf;
And mind the maxim, Love thy neighbour
As well as thou dost love thyself.
Deal gently with thy erring brother,
Forgive as thou wouldst be forgiven;
If here we love not one another,
How can we dwell in love in heaven?
And should thy feeble brother stumble,
And often fall upon the road,
Though poor, debauched by drink, and humble,
Oh! plant his feet upon the sod.
Crush not the heart that's almost broken,
But light up hope and banish fear;
A pleasant word, when kindly spoken,
Will heal the wound and dry the tear.
Can we forget our own behaviour?
Can we for our sad sins atone?
Let him who needs no blessed Saviour
Be first to scourge or cast the stone!
Oh! let us make the brave world better
Than 'twas the day it gave us birth,
BY BREAKING EVERY YOKE AND FETTER,
And spreading light and truth on earth.
Oh! when shall we behold the dawning
Of "the good time" we've sought so long,
The light of that unclouded morning,
When faith shall bud in hope and song?
O FRIENDS OF TRUTH! LIFT HIGH YOUR BANNERS,
Gleaming with syllables of light,
WAKEN THE WORLD WITH LOUD HOSANNAS,
LET RIGHT BE MIGHTIER THAN MIGHT!
THE HEAD AND THE HEART.
BY J. G. SAXE.
[Earnest and cheerful.]
The HEAD is stately, calm, and wise,
And bears a princely part;
And down below in secret lies
The warm, impulsive HEART.
The lordly head that sits above,
The heart that beats below,
Their several office plainly prove,
Their true relation show.
The head erect, serene, and cool,
Endowed with REASON's art,
Was set aloft to guide and rule
The throbbing, wayward heart.
And from the head, as from the higher,
Comes every glorious thought;
And in the heart's transforming fire
ALL NOBLE DEEDS ARE WROUGHT.
Yet each is best when both unite
To make the man complete;
What were the heat without the light?
The light, without the heat?
WHAT WE ALL THINK.
By J. O. HOLMES.
[Cheerful and earnest.]
THAT age was older once than now,
In spite of locks untimely shed,
Or silvered on the youthful brow;
That babes make love and children wed.
THAT sunshine had a heavenly glow,
Which faded with those "good old days,"
When winters came with deeper snow,
And autumns with a softer haze.
THAT-mother, sister, wife, or child—
The best of women" each has known.
Were schoolboys ever half so wild?
How young the grandpapas have grown!
THAT but for this our souls were free,
And but for that our lives were blest;
THAT in some season yet to be
Our cares will leave us time to rest.
Whene'er we groan with ache or pain,
Some common ailment of the race,
Though doctors think the matter plain-
THAT OURS is "a PECULIAR CASE.'
THAT when like babes with fingers burned
We count one bitter maxim more,
Our lessons all the world has learned,
And men are wiser than before.
THAT when we sob o'er fancied woes,
The angels hovering overhead
Count every pitying drop that flows,
And love us for the tears we shed.
THAT when we stand with tearless eye
And turn the beggar from our door,
They still approve us when we sigh,
Ah, had I but ONE THOUSAND MORE!"
Though temples crowd the crumbled brink
O'erhanging truth's eternal flow,
Their tablets bold with WHAT WE THINK,
Their echoes dumb to WHAT WE KNOW.
That one unquestioned text we read,
All doubt beyond, all fear above,
Nor crackling pile nor cursing creed
Can burn or blot it: GOD IS LOVE!
BY DR. J. BURNS.
[Dialogue for two girls.]
Jane. I'm glad, dear Mary, we have met
On this delightful day,
And hope you'll see our Sabbath-school
Before you go away.
Mary. I shall be very glad indeed
To spend this day with you,
To hear, and learn, and give God thanks
For what our schools can do.
But have you any extra cause
For pleasure and delight;
Or any facts or truths to place
In a more pleasing light?
Jane. Why, Mary, Missions now engage
Our thoughts and earnest prayers;
The heathen children may be saved
From Satan's deadly snares.
Mary. Well, that is very right and kind,
And Christian-like, I'm sure;
But children can't do much, I fear-
They are so very poor.
Jane. We know the work is very great-
The world's the mission sphere-
But that's the reason children should
Employ THEIR influence here.
The shower is made of little drops,
And these form copious streams;
And little rays of light combine
To make our noon-tide beams.
And thus we think that children should
With energy unite
To send to dark and pagan lands
THE GOSPEL'S HEAVENLY LIGHT.
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