III.

But in that mean and friendless brotherhood

Was one, whose grandeur angels could not plumb, The ever-welling source of all that's good

By whom all things consist-from whom they come. Yes, Dives! Him you turn from in disdain, The heaven, and heaven of heavens cannot contain.

IV.

Who but Jehovah could the task essay

To scan the thoughts which through the God-man's soul Like spectres flitted, as on that fair day

His saddened eye did o'er the landscape roll! To human ken, how bright the scene appearsEmanuel's sight it dims with scalding tears.

V.

Perchance the Past was then before His view-
The blood-stained story of His chosen nation;
Though highly favored, thankless,-never true-
Rebellious, stiff-necked, prone to provocation,
Killing the prophets stoning heralds given
To point their way to holiness and heaven.

V1.

Sure as He gazed, there vividly appeared
The ghastly scenes of His deep tragedy;
In dark relief He saw the cross upreared,
He heard the heartless blood-shout "Crucify!"
Forebodingly He felt the Roman lance,
The shrouding of His Father's countenance.

VII.

Next that false nation's dread catastrophe-
So long predicted-gloomed before God's Son..
Like dream of night the temple passed away,
Remaining on another not one stone—
Whilst, carnage-gorged, the eagle hoarsely yelled
That Heaven's last curse was sternly now fulfilled.

VIII.

Small marvel, then, that in His tender pity
He, who was love itself, wept like a child,
When gazing on that fair but wayward city
Which from His open arms was self-exiled;
Small marvel that He cried with yearning moan,
"Jerusalem! Oh, if thou hadst but known!

IX.

Pray we, that soon the glorious time may come,
When the poor outcast Jew shall know his God;
And, after all his wanderings turn to home,

Weaned from rebellion by the chast'ning rod;
And nestle, chicken-like, beneath the wing
Of Christ his loving Prophet, Priest, and King.

"MY PEACE I GIVE UNTO YOU."

Oh world, false and cold, I turn from thee,
All thy allurements fail to chain my heart:
Misfortune's sharp, but kindly God-sent dart,
Hath broke the meshes which imprisoned me.
The dream was beauteous, yea exceeding fair:
Bright was the glamour which it threw around:
But soon there came the chill mist of despair,
Rising like vapour from a charnel ground.

Then I essayed to lift my sickened gaze

To the blest mount where Jesus shed his bloodWhen first the mighty truth. I understood,.

That there alone true happiness is found.

Dear Lamb of God! from Thee doth well a balm

To cheer the sin-sad soul, and passion's tempest calm.

SIN AND LOVE.

I.

What is sin? On Calvary
Seek the answer! With moist eye
Gaze upon the thorn-crowned One,
Not now on the Triune throne,
But writhing on the cross of shame,
Though in him was found no blame.

II.

Why does blood His fair limbs stain?
Wherefore broil His nerves with pain?
Whence the mystic, lonesome cry,
"ELI LAMA SABACHTHANI?"
A world's guilt His soul doth wring!
A world's guilt lends death its sting!