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GOD IS LOVE.
I CANNOT always trace the way
Where Thou Almighty One! dost move,
When fear her chilling mantle flings
When mystery clouds my darken'd path,
The entanglement which restless thought,
Yes, God is love! a thought like this
THOUGHT FOR THE BROKEN-HEARTED. I was a stricken deer that left the herd long since
With many an arrow deep infixed,
My panting side was charged when I withdrew
THE JOURNEY TO EMMAUS.
Ir happen'd on a solemn eventide,
They spake of Him they loved, of Him whose life, [strife; Though blameless, had incurred perpetual Whose deeds had left, in spite of hostile arts, A deep memorial graven on their hearts. The recollection like a vein of ore, [more; The further traced, enriched them still the They thought him, and they justly thought him, One
Sent to do more than he appear'd to have done ; To exalt a people, and to place them high Above all else-and wondered he should die. Ere yet they brought their journey to an end, A stranger joined them, courteous as a friend, And asked them with a kind, engaging air, What their affliction was, and begged a share; Informed, he gather'd up the broken thread, And truth and wisdom gracing all he said, Explained, illustrated, and searched so well The tender theme on which they chose to dwell,
That reaching home, "the night," they said, " is near,
We must not now be parted, sojourn here." The new acqaintance soon became a guest, And made so welcome at their simple feast:
He bless'd the bread, but vanish'd at the word, And left them both exclaiming, "Twas the Lord;
Did not our hearts feel all he deigned to say? Did they not burn within us by the way ?" COWPER.
THE COTTER'S SATURDAY NIGHT.
THE cheerful supper done, with serious face
They round the ingle form a circle wide; The sire turns o'er, with patriarchal grace,
The big ha' Bible, once his father's pride. His bonnet reverently is laid asideHis lyart haffets wearing thin and bare;
Those strains that once did sweet in Zion glide,
He wales a portion with judicious care; And, "Let us worship God," he says, with solemn air.
They chant their artless notes in simplest guise : [aim : They tune their hearts, by far the noblest
Perhaps Dundee's wild, warbling, measures rise,
Or plaintive Martyrs, worthy of the name, Or noble Elgin beats the heavenward flame, The sweetest far of Scotia's holy lays;
Compared with these, Italian trills are tame : The tickled ears no heartfelt raptures raise, No unison have they with our Creator's praise.
The priest-like father reads the sacred page,
How Abraham was the friend of God on Or Moses bade eternal warfare wage [high; With Amalek's ungracious progeny ;
Or how the royal bard did groaning lie,
Perhaps the Christian volume is the theme,
How guiltless blood for guilty man was shed; How He who bore in heav'n the second name, Had not on earth whereon to lay His head; How His first followers and servants sped The precepts sage they wrote to many a land; How he, who lone in Patmos banished,