If thy neighbour should sin, old Christoral cried,

Never never uninerciful be!
For remember it is by the mercy of God

That thou art not as wicked as he.

At sixty and seven the hope of heaven

Is my comfort, old Christoval cried, But if God had cut me off in my youth

I might not have gone there when I died.

You shall have the farm, young Christoval,

My good master Henrique said, But a surety provide, in whom I can confide,

That duly the rent shall be paid.

I was poor and I had not a friend on earth,

And I knew not what to say, We stood by the porch of St. Andres' church,

And it was on St. Isidro's day.

Accept for my surety St. Isidro,

I ventured to make reply, The Saint in Heaven may perhaps be my friend,

But friendless on earth am I.

We enter'd the church and came to his graxo

And I fell on my bended knee ; I am friendless, holy St. Isidro, And I venture to call upon


I call upon thee my surety to be,

Thou knowest my honest intent, And if ever I break my plighted word

Let thy vengeance make me repent!

I was idle, the day of payment came on,

And I had not the money in store, I fear'd the wrath of St. Isidro

But I fear'd Henrique more.

On a dark dark night I took my flight

And hastily fled away,
It chanced by St. Andres' church

The road I had chosen lay.

As I pass'd the door 'I thought what I had sworc

Upon St. Isidro's day,
And I seem'd to fear because he was near,

And faster 'I hasten'd: away.

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Weary I was, and safe I thought,

But when it was day-light
I had I found been running round

And round the church all night.

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I shook like a palsy and fell on my knees

And for pardon devoutly I pray'd :
When my master came up—what Christoval,

You are here betimes, he said.



I have been idle good master ! I cried,

Good master and I have been wrong, And I have been running round the church

In penance all night long.

If thou hast been idle, Henrique said,

Go home and thy fault amend; I will not oppress thee Christoval,

May the Saint thy labour befriend,

Homeward I went a penitent,

And I never was idle more ;
St. Isidro blest my industry

As he punish'd my fault before.


my debtor was poor, old Christoval said,
I have never exacted my due,
I remembered Henrique was good to me

And copied his goodness too.

When my neighbour has sinn'd, old Christoval said,

I have ever forgiven his sin,
For I thought of the night by St. Andres' church

And remember'd what I might have been.

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Mystery of God! thou brave and beauteous world,
Made fair with light and shade and stars and flowers,
Made fearful and august with woods and rocks,
Jagg'd precipice, black mountain, sea in storms,
Sun, over all, that no co-rival owns,
But thro' Heaven's pavement rides as in despite
Or mockery of the littleness of man!
I see a mighty arm, by man unseen,
Resistless, not to be controul’d, that guides,
In solitude of unshared energies,
All these thy ceaseless miracles, O world!
Arm of the world, I view thee, and I muse
On Man, who trusting in his mortal strength,
Leans on a shadowy staff, a staff of dreams.

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