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Amid the oak whose quiet verdure mocked
Thy misery, forsook by all who shared
Thy meteor-greatness and constrained to learn
There in that solitude of agony,
A traitor hath no friends ! — what were thy thoughts
When death careering on the triple dart
Of vengeful Joab found thee? To thy God
Rose there one cry of penitence, one prayer
For that unmeasured mercy which can cleanse
Unbounded guilt? Or turned thy stricken heart
Toward him who o’er thy infant graces watched
With tender pride, and all thy sins of youth
In blindfold fondness pardoned? All thy crimes
Were cancelled in that plenitude of love
Which laves with fresh and everlasting tide
A parent's heart.

I sce that form which awed
The foes of Israel with its victor-might
Bowed low in grief, and hear upon the breeze

the palm-groves of Jerusalem, The wild continuous wail, —“O Absalom! My son! My son!”

We turn us from thy tomb, Usurping prince! Thy beauty and thy grace Have perished with thee, but thy fame survives, — The ingrate son that pierced a father's heart.

Lydia Huntley Sigourney.

That sweeps

Jericho.

JERICHO.

WHI

HERE are thy walls, proud Jericho ? — the blast

Of Israel's horn to earth thy towers might cast, But Time more surely lays thy bulwarks low; Yonder the Jordan sweeps with tireless flow, And Pisgah rears his earth-o'ergazing brow, Defying storm and thunder, — where art thou ? Thy towers have left no stone; not e'en a palm Waves on thy site amidst the burning calm : A few green turf-clad mounds alone remain, Like those which rise on Troy's deserted plain. Gone is that costly plant, a queen's fair hand To Salem brought from Sheba's spicy land, The weeping balsam, whose nectareous dew, More prized than silver, well the trader knew : Yet still one flower above its flinty bed, Renowned by minstrels, lifts its lowly head; White rose of Jericho ! so small yet sweet, That oft the way-worn traveller stoops to greet, What dost thou in this desert? vain thy bloom As the lamp's light that gilds the cheerless tomb; Vain opes thy bosom to the thankless air, No painted insect flies to nestle there; Thy scents embalm the ground, but useless shed As gifts of good upon the ungrateful head. Alas! fair rose, the barren plain we see,

How can it warm to life, have charms for thee?
Yet here, exhaling sweets, thou dost remain,
Like hope fond lingering in this world of pain,
Whose bright and holy smile will ne'er depart,
Though every joy beside may fly the heart.

Nicholas Michell.

BLIND BARTIMEUS.

BLOND

LIND Bartimeus at the gates

Of Jericho in darkness waits;
He hears the crowd; he hears a breath
Say, “It is Christ of Nazareth !”
And calls, in tones of agony,
'Ιησού, ελέησόν με!

The thronging multitudes increase;
Blind Bartimeus, hold thy peace !
But still, above the noisy crowd,
The beggar's cry is shrill and loud;
Until they say, “He calleth thee !"
θάρσει, έγειραι, φωνεί σε!
Then saith the Christ, as silent stands
The crowd, “What wilt thou at my bands?”
And he replies, “0, give me light!
Rabbi, restore the blind man's sight.
And Jesus answers, "Ynaye!
Η πίστις σου σέσωκέ σε !

Ye that have eyes yet cannot see,
In darkness and in misery,

Recall those mighty Voices Three, 'Ιησού, ελέησόν με! θάρσει, έγειραι, ύπαγε! Η πίστις σου σέσωκέ σε !

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.

THE GOOD SAMARITAN.

A

TRAVELLER fell among the thieves;

He was crushed like autumn leaves : He was beaten like the sheaves

Upon the threshing-floor.

There, upon the public way,
In the shadowless heat of day,
Bleeding, stripped and bound hc lay,

And seemed to breathe no more.

Void of hope was he, when lo!
On his way to Jericho,
Came a priest, serene and slow,

His journey just begun.

Many a silver bell and gem
Glittered on his harness hem;
Behind him gleamed Jerusalem,

In the unclouded sun.

Broad were his phylacteries
And his calm and holy eyes

Looked above earth’s vanities,

And gazed upon the sky.

He the suffering one descried,
But, with saintly looks of pride,
Passed by on the other side,

And left him there to die.

Then approached with reverend pace,
One of the elected race,
The chosen ministers of grace,

Who bore the ark of God.

He a Levite and a high
Exemplar of humanity,
Likewise passed the sufferer by,

Even as the dust he trod.

Then came a Samaritan,
A despised, rejected man,
Outlawed by the Jewish ban

As one in bonds to sin.

He beheld the poor man's need,
Bound his wounds, and with all speed
Set him on his own good steed,

And brought him to the inn.

When our Judge shall reappear Thinkest thou this man will hear, “ Wherefore didst thou interfere

With what concerned not thee?".

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