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The gracious Dove, that brought from Heaven

The earnest of our bliss,
Of many a chosen witness telling,
On many a happy vision dwelling,

Sings not a note of this.

So, truest image of the Christ,

Old Israel's long-lost son,
What time, with sweet forgiving cheer,
He call'd his conscious brethren near,
Would

weep

with them alone.

He could not trust his melting soul

But in his Maker's sight-
Then why should gentle hearts and true
Bare to the rude world's withering view

Their treasure of delight !

No-let the dainty rose awhile

Her bashful fragrance hideRend not her silken veil too soon, But leave her, in her own soft noon,

To flourish and abide.

FIFTH SUNDAY IN LENT.

And Moses said, I will now turn aside and see this great sight, why the bush is not burned. Exodus iii. 3.

TH' historic Muse, from age to age,
Thro' many a waste heart-sickening page

Hath 'trac'd the works of Man:
But a celestial call to-day
Stays her, like Moses, on her way,

The works of God to scan.

Far seen across the sandy wild,
Where, like a solitary child,

He thoughtless roam'd and free,
One towering thorn? was wrapt in flame-
Bright without blaze it went and came :

Who would not turn and see ?

z • Seneh :" said to be a sort of Acacia.

Along the mountain ledges green
The scatter'd sheep at will may glean

The Desert's spicy stores :
The while, with undivided heart,
The shepherd talks with God apart,

And, as he talks, adores.

Ye too, who tend Christ's wildering flock, Well may ye gather round the rock

That once was Sion's hill ; To watch the fire upon

the mount Still blazing, like the solar fount,

Yet unconsuming still.

Caught from that blaze by wrath divine, Lost branches of the once-lov'd vine,

Now wither’d, spent, and sere, See Israel's sons, like glowing brands, Tost wildly o’er a thousand lands

For twice a thousand year.

God will not quench nor slay them quite, But lifts them like a beacon light

Th' apostate Church to scare:

Or like pale ghosts that darkling roam, Hovering around their ancient home,

But find no refuge there.

Ye blessed Angels! if of you
There be, who love the ways to view

Of Kings and Kingdoms here ; (And sure, 'tis worth an Angel's gaze, To see, throughout that dreary maze,

God teaching love and fear :)

Oh say, in all the bleak expanse,
Is there a spot to win your glance,

So bright, so dark as this?
A hopeless faith, a homeless. race,
Yet seeking the most holy place,

And owning the true bliss !

Salted with fire they seem, to shew
How spirits lost in endless woe

May undecaying live.
Oh sickening thought ! yet hold it fast
Long as this glittering world shall last,
And hark ! amid the flashing fire,
Mingling with tones of fear and ire,

Or sin at heart survive.

a St. Mark ix. 49.

Soft Mercy's undersong'Tis Abraham's God who speaks so loud, His people's cries have pierc'd the cloud,

He sees, He sees their wrong";

He is come down to break their chain ; Though never more on Sion's fane

His visible ensign wave; 'Tis Sion, wheresoe'er they dwell, Who, with His own true Israel,

Shall own Him strong to save.

He shall redeem them one by one,
Where'er the world-encircling sun

Shall see them meekly kneel:
All that He asks on Israel's part,
Is only, that the captive heart

Its woe and burthen feel.

Gentiles! with fix'd yet awful eye
Turn ye this page of mystery,

b Exod. ii. 7, 8.

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