Part 2 (1/2)

Vain transient World, what charms are thine?

And what do mortals in thee see, That they should wors.h.i.+p at thy shrine, And sacrifice their all to thee?

Thy brightest gifts, thy happiest hours Fly past on pinions of the wind; They fade like blooms upon the flowers, And leave a painful want behind.

Thou art a road, though not of s.p.a.ce, Which rich and poor alike must tread; Thy starting point we cannot trace, Thine end--the country of the dead.

A pathway paved with want and woe, With pleasures painful, incomplete; Like stones upon the way below, Which wound the weary pilgrim's feet.

Thou'rt hedged with visions of despair, With words of hate, with looks of scorn; Like wayside thorns which pierce and tear The fainting traveller weak and worn.

Relentless odium's bitter ill, Cold disregard thy ways infest; Like wintry blasts that chill and kill The very heart within the breast.

Fragment of a Hymn.

G.o.d of mercy without measure!

G.o.d of all-embracing love!

Show'ring in Thy gracious pleasure Countless blessings from above; Bounteous benefits bestowing In a kind, continuous course, Favour from Thee ever flowing, As a stream from ocean source.

Grateful praise my aspiration; Pardon my presumptuous pen; And accept my poor oblation, And forgive its feeble strain; Thou to whom such praise is given, Too divine for mortal ears, In the angel choirs of heaven And the music of the spheres.

Prayer for Submission.

How often, Lord, when 'tis Thy will To use the chastening rod, My soul, possessed of pa.s.sions ill, Rebels against its G.o.d!

Denies that Justice reigns in heaven, Doth His decrees pervade; And loathes the blessings He hath given, The creatures He hath made!

Do thou the spirit me instil Of sweet submission, Lord, And teach me to Thy sovereign will In meekness to accord; Like Him who felt affliction's fire, But never did repine; And bore the cross at Thy desire, When harder far than mine.

Enough, it is my King's command!

What more do I require?

Yet what is from a father's hand Can but to good conspire.

And all Thy workings are inwove In Thine eternal plan, Which wills the welfare in Thy love, And works the weal of man.

Sonnet to ------.

Journeying through a desert, waste and drear, Exhausted and disheartened by his way, So hard and parched, unchanged from day to day, Saw the lone traveller an oasis near, In which a tender flower did appear, Endued with beauty and with fragrance sweet, Known not to scorching winds nor blighting heat; And gazing on it, it imparted cheer.

The traveller trod the weary sands of Time, Entering thy home delightful peace he found; Radiant with youthful beauty half divine, On him thine angel face with sunbeams crowned Smiled, and that artless, beaming smile of thine Sped to his soul that with new life did bound.