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TEARS.

VI.

For Conscience, and its voice of awe-
Thy whisper when we break Thy law;
For knowledge of Thy power divine,
And wisdom, mighty as benign;
For all we are, and hope to be,
Lord! we are thankful unto Thee.

TEARS.

[Music by SIR H. R. BISHOP.]

I.

O YE tears! O ye tears! that have long refused to flow, Ye are welcome to my heart, thawing, thawing, like the

snow;

I hear the hard clod soften, and the early snow-drops spring, And the healing fountains gush, and the wildernesses

0

sing.

II.

ye tears! O ye tears! I am thankful that ye run; Though ye trickle in the darkness, ye shall glisten in

the sun.

The rainbow cannot shine, if the drops refuse to fall, And the eyes that cannot weep, are the saddest eyes of all.

III.

0 ye tears! O ye tears! till I felt you on my cheek,

I

was selfish in my sorrow, I was stubborn, I was weak. Ye have given me strength to conquer, and I stand erect and free,

And know that I am human by the light of sympathy.

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IV.

O ye tears! O ye tears! ye relieve me of my pain;
The barren rock of pride has been stricken once again :
Like the rock that Moses smote, amid Horeb's burning
sand,

It yields the flowing water, to make gladness in the land.

V.

There is light upon my path, there is sunshine in my heart,
And the leaf and fruit of life shall not utterly depart.
Ye restore to me the freshness and the bloom of long
ago-

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tears! happy tears! I am thankful that ye flow!

FORBEARANCE.

I.

WHY should we pluck the dewy rose
That scents the early morn,
Or strive to snare the happy bird

That warbles on the thorn?

We'll leave the flower to woo the sun,
The free bird in the air,

And walk through pleasures, grasping none,
Repaid, if we forbear.

II.

When scorners scorn, or foes revile,

Or friends look dark and shy,

We'll neither give them scorn for scorn,
Nor pass them coldly by ;

A CRY FROM THE DEEP WATERS.

We'll check the storm of rising pride
And keep a temper fair-
Warned by the Angel at our side,
That whispers to forbear!

III.

And should the foe who did us wrong
Lie powerless in our hands,
We'll think no more of evils done

To shame him where he stands.
We'll strive to act a nobler part-

We'll pity-hear—and spare ;-
And win an entrance to his heart,
By all that we forbear.

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A CRY FROM THE DEEP WATERS.

I.

FROM the deep and troubled waters
Comes the cry;

Wild are the waves around me

Dark the sky:

There is no hand to pluck me
From the sad death I die.

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III.

A cry of suffering gushes
From my lips,

As I behold the distant

White-sail'd ships

O'er the dark waters gleaming
Where the horizon dips.

IV.

They pass; they are too lofty
And remote,

They cannot see the spaces
Where I float.

The last hope dies within me,
With the gasping in my throat.

Through dim cloud-vistas looking

I can see,

The new moon's crescent sailing
Pallidly :

And one star coldly shining
Upon my misery.

VI.

There are no sounds in Nature

But my moan,

The shriek of the wild petrel

All alone,

And roar of waves exulting

To make my flesh their own.

A SONG AFTER A TOAST.

VII.

Billow with billow rages,
Tempest-trod;

Strength fails me; coldness gathers
On this clod:

From the deep and troubled waters
I cry to Thee, my God.

A SONG AFTER A TOAST.

I.

Ir he, to whom this toast we drink,

Has brought the needy to his door,
Or raised the wretch from ruin's brink
From the abundance of his store:
If he has soothed the mourner's woe,
Or help'd young merit into fame,
This night our cups shall overflow
In honour of his name.

11.

If he be poor, and yet has striven
To ease the load of human care;
If to the famish'd he has given

One loaf that it was hard to spare;

If in his poverty, erect,

He never did one deed of shame, Fill high! we'll drain in deep respect A bumper to his name.

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