And draws our dim glances to skyward, away from thy laurels of black: Thank God that whatever the darkness that covers his crea ture's dim sight, He always vouchsafes some deliverance, throws some one a sweet ray of light; Thank God that the strength of His goodness from dark depths ascended on high, And carried the souls of the suffering away to the realms of the sky; Thank God that his well-tempered mercy came down with the clouds from above, And saved one from out the destruction, and him by the angel of love. James Freeman Clashe " NEW HEAVENS AND NEW EARTH. I. New heavens! new earth! where are ye? Evermore O seer, who gazed from Patmos' island-shore II. Earth, in her circular path among the stars, And through an orbit of recurring wars The disunited church must falter slow. III. O, for new heavens! new light our mind to lead, New life from Christ to animate our dead, New love our souls to enlarge, our hearts to warm! IV. Must we forever tread this barren way Repeat the fruitless round of old routine, V. Believe we rather in the coming sweet Of Christ on earth, the living Christ, to reignWhen saints, by creeds divided now, shall meet, And his one church all churches shall contain. VI. The lofty portals of these heavens expand, To welcome in redeemed humanity. VII. How long, dear mother! holy church, how long! From Austrian prison, Alabama's shore, The oppressed, with fainting hearts their cries prolong : HOW TO JUDGE. "Judge the people by their actions"-'tis a rule you often get— "Judge the actions by their people" is a wiser maxim yet. Have I known you, brother, sister? have I looked into your heart? Mingled with your thoughts my feelings, taken of your life my part? Through the warp of your convictions sent the shuttle of my thought, Till the web became a Credo, for us both, of Should and Ought? Seen, in thousand ways, your nature, in all act and look and speech? By that large induction only, I your law of being reach. If I ever really knew you, then my friend I know you now. Let the mere outside observer note appearance as he can; man. RIVIERA DI PONENTE. On this lovely Western shore, where no tempests rage and roar, way, Travelers from across the ocean, toward Italia journeyed we,— Where black war-ships doze at anchor, in the bay or VillaFranca, Eagle-like, gray Esa, clinging to its rocky perch, looks down; And upon the mountain dim, ruined, shattered, stern, and grim, Turbia sees us through the ages, with its austere Roman frown, While we climb where cooler, rarer Breezes sweep the Riviera. Down the hillside steep and stony, through the old streets of Mentone, Quiet, half-forgotten city of a drowsy prince and time, Through the mild Italian midnight, rolls upon the wave the moonlight, Murmurs in our dreams the cadence of a strange Ligurian rhyme,― Rhymes in which each heart is sharer, When the morning air comes purer, creeping up in our vettura, tain ranges Tender tints of warmer feeling, kissing all their peaks of gray, And far south the waters wear a Smile along the Riviera. Helmed with snow, the Alpine giants at invaders look defiance, Floats an island, half-transparent, woven out of sea and air;- He whose mighty earth-quake tread all Europa shook with dread, Chief whose infancy was cradled in that old Tyrrhenic isle, Joins the shades of trampling legions, bringing from remotest regions Gallic fire and Roman valor, Cimbric daring, Moorish guile, Guests from every age to share a Portion of this Riviera. |