The smile that decks the human face,
The brilliant eye, the joyous brow,
Are beauties we may never trace!
A rayless midnight shrouds us now.
But why, oh why, the falling tear,
Why heave the sad, unbidden sigh?
The lamp of knowledge, bright and fair,
Pours lustre on our mental eye.
And oh! Religion's heavenly ray
Our bosoms light with sacred love,
And bids us look from earth, away
To an eternal world above.
To us our Father hath denied
The blessing he on you bestows,
Yet, sweetly now our moments glide,
He gives us friends to soothe our woes.
And though we never can express
The gratitude to you we owe,
God your benevolence will bless,
And his approving smile bestow.
“Allah! Il Allah!" from the mosques Across the morning air,
Was heard a hundred meuzzins' cry,
"To prayer, awake to prayer!"
And turbaned Turk, and Arab dark,
The freeman, and the bound,
Sultan, and meanest slave alike,
Fell prostrate at the sound.
'T was noon, and in the busy mart,
Was hurrying to and fro,
When sudden came the meuzzin's cry,
And all was hushed below.
And when the crescent moon arose
Across the twilight air,
Again was heard that solemn sound,
Again they knelt in prayer.
Alas! in Christian lands, the bell,
At break, and set of day,
May call in vain to Christian men,
They have no time to pray.
By night and day, in grief or joy,
For empty wealth they slave,
Ay! live, as if there was no God,
No life beyond the grave.
Green in the farmer's furrow springs the grain,
And he who follows Adam in his toil,
That garden toil which makes the spirit young,
Doth find, with mystic change, the blackened mould
Transformed and pencilled in the tulip leaf,
The rich carnation, the imperial rose,
The wondrous cactus, with its countless forms,
While the ungainly sapling spreads its boughs,
Laden with bloom and fruitage.
Without man's aid, doth make the desert glad,
And deck the wilderness. The winged seed
Which to the husbandry of gales she trusts,
Taketh due root, and up the daisy comes;
The pallid grass-flower, the fresh violet,
The water-loving lotus-the fair vine,
Clasping the gray rock with a thousand arms-
The arbutus, creeping low in leafy grove,
Yet cannot keep the secret of its birth,
For its sweet babbling breath.
The water-courses, the majestic elm
Roundeth its temple arch, the forest oak,
And that which is a forest in itself,
The mighty banian, all with pride attest
The unconstrained fidelity of earth
Unto her trust.
Thou, too, oh! human heart!
God-sown, heaven-dewed-what witness dost thou bear
Of faithful stewardship? Seed of good thoughts
Was scattered in thee, by that book which makes
The simple wise. Is there no evil germ
Admitted by thee? no dark motive made
Welcome, with foul and bat-like wings to cling
Amid thine imagery?
The Holy Spirit o'er thy soul did strew,
Breathing upon them. Do they blossom there,
In peace and wisdom? Ah, thou busy tongue,
So frivolous, so loud with idle mirth,
So eloquent in trifles, and so dumb
Oft times, when piety doth ask thine aid,
Be true and tell.
Seed of good deeds were sown
Beneath the beams of His example pure,
Who trod the way in loneliness,
Nor shrank from homeless poverty and toil,
So He might save the lost.
Is shortening every moment, are there none
Who hunger, or are naked? none who thirst
For knowledge, pine in prison, or are tossed
Without Heaven's compass on the stormy sea?
None who do idols worship, groping dark
After an unknown God? Or wear the chains
Of vice, which human love might breathe upon
And melt away?
Haste, ere the gathered shades
Fall on thee from the tomb, where none may work,
And throw a shelter o'er the orphan's head,
Cheer the sad mourner, light the Heathen soul,
And justify thy Maker's husbandry!
So that His angels, who go forth to reap
Earth's ripened harvest for the judgment day,
Put not the sickle in with tears, to find
The tares for burning overtop the wheat.
SUGGESTED BY HEARING MISS M. E. C...... G, OF BOSTON, SAY, I WAS AT A TENEMENT IN A BASEMENT STORY
IT WAS DAMP AND UNCOMFORTABLE.
What led her footsteps there?
Was it a literary taste to please,
Or her already highly cultured mind
To enrich, that in apartments such as these,
One so untaught in sorrow's school we find?
Go, ask the inmates of that cheerless home,
What led her to their comfortless abode ?
Did she delight amid sad scenes to roam,
And view the tears that from true misery flowed?
Motives like these influenced not her mind,
It was her aim to chase the sorrowing tear,
And by her gentle words, and actions kind,
The desolate, afflicted heart to cheer.
Long ere this frail memorial meets her eye,
This little incident may be forgot;
But He who secret actions can descry,
To dark oblivion's wave consigns them not.
But, when the quick and dead before him stand,
And Folly's votaries are clothed with shame,
Will say to those arranged on his right hand,
As you have succored these, who love my name,
I do consider it as done to me,
And will among my friends your names record; It is my will you should rewarded be,
By sharing the enjoyments of your Lord.
HOPE OVERCOMING DESPONDENCY.
"Why art thou cast down, oh! my soul?"
"Why? misfortunes on misfortunes press upon me-swell o'er my head like waves, and dash me down."
But, shall I say no ray of joy appears?
Where are the mercies of my former years?
Where are the ebenezers I did raise,
To Him who filled my heart with love and praise?
Shall I unmindful of that mercy prove,
Which crowned my youthful days with tender love?
Shall I to grief resign my life a prey,
And leave my infants on life's stormy sea?
Oh! never, while the Savior's cheering voice
Says, "Come, and I will make your heart rejoice,
Who'er thou art, that heavy laden be,
Oh! come, and peace and comfort find in me.
Though feeble nature drops the unwilling tear,
Your grief I know, your bosom I will cheer,
And in some future, happier, blissful day,
The smiles of joy shall chase those tears away.
The rills of sorrow often run below,
And oft I visit those I love, with woe,
That they, when fainting on life's thorny road,
May place their faith and hope alone in God!
There is a brighter scene, and cloudless skies,
Where sorrow and temptations never rise;
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