VII.

Ay, men may wonder while they scan
A living, thinking, feeling man
Confirmed in such a rest to keep;
But angels say, and through the word.
I think their happy smile is heard—
'He giveth His beloved, sleep.'

VIII.

For me, my heart that erst did go
Most like a tired child at a show,

That sees through tears the mummers leap,
Would now its wearied vision close,

Would childlike on His love repose

Who giveth His beloved, sleep.

IX.

And friends, dear friends, when it shall be
That this low breath is gone from me,
And round my bier ye come to weep,
Let One, most loving of you all,
Say, 'Not a tear must o'er her fall!
'He giveth His beloved, sleep.'

VOL. III.

I

THE MEASURE.

"He comprehended the dust of the earth in a measure (').”

Isaiah xl.

"Thou givest them tears to drink in a measure (w).''*

Psalm lxxx.

I.

GOD the Creator, with a pulseless hand
Of unoriginated power, hath weighed
The dust of earth and tears of man in one
Measure, and by one weight:

So saith His holy book.

II.

Shall we, then, who have issued from the dust
And there return,-shall we, who toil for dust,
And wrap our winnings in this dusty life,
Say, 'No more tears, Lord God!

'The measure runneth o'er'?

* I believe that the word occurs in no other part of the Hebrew Scriptures.

III.

Oh, Holder of the balance, laughest Thou?
Nay, Lord! be gentler to our foolishness,
For His sake who assumed our dust and turns
On Thee pathetic eyes

Still moistened with our tears.

IV.

And teach us, O our Father, while we weep, To look in patience upon earth and learnWaiting, in that meek gesture, till at last These tearful eyes be filled

With the dry dust of death.

COWPER'S GRAVE.

I.

It is a place where poets crowned may feel the heart's decaying;

It is a place where happy saints may weep amid their

praying:

Yet let the grief and humbleness as low as silence languish :

Earth surely now may give her calm to whom she gave her anguish.

II.

O poets, from a maniac's tongue was poured the deathless singing!

O Christians, at your cross of hope a hopeless hand was clinging!

O men, this man in brotherhood your weary paths

beguiling,

Groaned inly while he taught you peace, and died. while ye were smiling!

III.

And now, what time ye all may read through dimming tears his story,

How discord on the music fell and darkness on the

glory,

And how when, one by one, sweet sounds and wandering lights departed,

He wore no less a loving face because so brokenhearted,

IV.

He shall be strong to sanctify the poet's high vocation, And bow the meekest Christian down in meeker

adoration;

Nor ever shall he be, in praise, by wise or good forsaken,

Named softly as the household name of one whom God hath taken.

V.

With quiet sadness and no gloom I learn to think upon him,

With meekness that is gratefulness to God whose heaven hath won him,

Who suffered once the madness-cloud to His own love

to blind him,

But gently led the blind along where breath and bird could find him;