One kindly deed may turn The fountain of thy soul To love's sweet day-star, that shall o'er thee burn Long as its currents roll! The pleasures thou hast planned, Where shall their memory be When the white angel with the freezing hand Shall sit and watch by thee? Living, thou dost not live, If mercy's spring run dry; What Heaven has lent thee wilt thou freely give, Dying, thou shalt not die! Behold, the tears that soothed thy sister's woe Have washed thy Master's feet! March 20, 1859. THE LIVING TEMPLE. NoT in the world of light alone, Nor yet alone in earth below, With belted seas that come and go, Is all thy Maker's glory seen: Look in upon thy wondrous frame, — The smooth, soft air with pulse-like waves The ebbing current steals away, And red with Nature's flame they start From the warm fountains of the heart. No rest that throbbing slave may ask, While far and wide a crimson jet But warmed with that unchanging flame See how yon beam of seeming white Arches and spirals circling round, Wakes the hushed spirit through thine ear With music it is heaven to hear. Then mark the cloven sphere that holds O Father! grant thy love divine And mould it into heavenly forms! HYMN OF TRUST. O LOVE Divine, that stooped to share Our sharpest pang, our bitterest tear, On Thee we cast each earth-born care, We smile at pain while Thou art near! Though long the weary way we tread, No path we shun, no darkness dread, Our hearts still whispering, Thou art near! When drooping pleasure turns to grief, Shall softly tell us, Thou art near! |