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Therefore I tell you, watch

By the light of the evening star, When the room is growing dusky

As the clouds afar Let the door be on the latch

In your home, For it may be through the gloaming

I will come !

62. ADVENT, THE SECOND. Waiting for What of the night, watchman,' what of the night?

The wintry gale sweeps by,
The thick shadows fall, and the night-bird's call

Sounds mournfully through the sky.
The night is dark, it is long and drear,

But who, while others sleep,
Is that little band, who together stand,

And their patient vigils keep?
All awake is the strained eye,

And awake the listening ear :
For their Lord they wait, and watch at the gate

His chariot-wheels to hear.
Long have they waited—that little band,

And ever and anon
To fancy's eye the dawn seem'd nigh,-

The night seem'd almost gone.
And often, through the midnight gale,

They thought they heard at last
The sound of His train, and they listen'd again,

And the sound died away on the blast.
Ages have roll'd, and one by one

Those watchers have pass'd away ;
They heard the call on their glad ear fall,

And they hasten’d to obey.
And in their place their children stand,

And still their vigils keep,
They watch and pray for the dawn of day,

For this is no time for sleep.
What of the night, watchman, what of the night?

Though the wintry gales sweep by, When the darkest hour begins to lower

We know that the dawn is nigh.
Courage, ye servants of the Lord,

The night is almost o'er ;
Your Master will come and call you home,

To weep and to watch no more.

It may be when the midnight

Is heavy upon the land,
And the black waves lying dumbly

Along the sand ;
When the moonless night draws close,
And the lights are out in the house,

When the fires burn low and red,
And the watch is ticking loudly

Beside the bed : .
Though you sleep, tired out, on your couch,
Still your heart must wake, and watch

In the dark room,
For it may be that at midnight

I will come !

It may be at the cock-crow,
When the night is dying slowly

In the sky,
And the sea looks calm and holy,

Waiting for the dawn
Of the golden sun,

Which draweth nigh;
When the mists are on the valleys, shading

The rivers chill,
And my morning star is fading, fading

Over the hill :
Behold, I say unto you, watch!
Let the door be on the latch

In your home;
In the chill before the dawning,
Between the night and morning,

I may come!
It may be in the morning,

When the sun is bright and strong,
And the dew is glittering sharply

Over the sweet, green lawn ;
When the waves are laughing loudly

Along the shore,
And gay birds are singing sweetly

About the door ;
With the long day's work before you,

You rise up with the sun,
And your dear ones come to talk a little

Of all that must be done,
But remember, I may be the next

To come in at the door,

63. ADVENT, THE SECOND. Waiting for

It may be in the evening,

When the work of the day is done,
And you have time to sit in the twilight,

And watch the sinking sun,
While the long, bright day dies slowly

Over the sea,
And the hour grows quiet and holy,

With thoughts of Me ;
While you hear the little children

Passing along the street, Among those thronging footsteps

May come the sound of My feet.

To call you from all your busy work

For evermore!
As you work, your heart must watch,
For the door is on the latch

In your room,
And it may be in the morning

I will come !

Doth bear him up against the shame of ruin,
With gentle censure, using but his faults
As modest means to introduce his praise;
For pity, like a dewy twilight, comes
To close th' oppressive splendour of his day,
And they who but admired him in his height,
His alter'd state lament, and love him fallin.

Joanna Baillie.

So I am watching, quietly,

Every day!
Whenever the sun shines brightly,

I rise and say,
Surely it is the shining of His face !
And look unto the gates of His high place

Beyond the sea;
For I know He is coming shortly

To summon me.
And when a shadow falls across the window

Of my room,
Where I am working my appointed task,
I lift my head to watch the door, and ask,

If He is come;
And an angel answers sweetly

In my home,
*Only a few more shadows,

And He will come!'

67. ADVERSITY. Benefit of
'Mid pleasure, plenty, and success,

Freely we take from Him who lends :
We boast the blessing we possess,

Yet scarcely thank the One who sends. But let affliction pour its smart,

How soon we quail beneath the rod ! With shatter'd pride, and prostrate heart, We seek the long-forgotten God.

Eliza Cook.

Winter brings blessings, so the chill Of dark adversity ;- from its cold grasp The soul revives re-animate,-more strong; And better arm'd.-F. A. Mackay.

64. ADVERSITY. Aggravation of

Of all the horrid, hideous notes of woe,

Sadder than owl-songs on the midnight blast, Is that portentous phrase, 'I told you so,'

Utter'd by friends, those prophets of the past, Who, 'stead of saying what you now should do,

Own they foresaw that you would fall at last, And solace your slight lapse 'gainst 'bonos mores, With a long memorandum of old stories.-Byron.

68. ADVERSITY. Comfort in

The man, perhaps, Thou pitiest, draws his comfort from distress. That mind so poised, and centred in the good Supreme, so kindled with devotion's flame, Might, with prosperity's enchanting cup Inebriate, have forgot the All-giving hand; Might on earth's vain and transitory joys Have built its sole felicity, nor e'er Wing’d a desire beyond. - George Bally.

65. ADVERSITY. Application of

I ASK What He would have this evil do for me? What is its mission ? What its misery? What golden fruit lies hidden in its husk ? How shall it nurse my virtue, nerve my will, Chasten my passions, purify my love, And make me in some goodly sense like Him Who bore the cross of evil while He lived, Who hung and bled upon it when He died, And now in glory wears the victor's crown.

7. G. Holland.

69. ADVERSITY. Constant Nor one care-wanting hour my life had tasted ; But from the very instant of my birth, Incessant woes my tired heart have wasted, And my poor thoughts are ignorant of mirth. Look how one wave another still pursueth, When some great tempest holds their troops in chase Or as one hour another close reneweth, Or posting day supplies another's place ;) So do the billows of affliction beat me, And hand in hand the storms of mischief go; Successive cares with utter ruin threat me, Grief is enchain'd with grief, and woe with woe.


66. ADVERSITY : awakens Pity.

WHEN a great mind falls, The nobler nature of man's gen’rous heart

70. ADVERSITY. Correction of WHEN urged by strong temptation to the brink | Or guilt and ruin, stands the virtuous mind,


With scarce a step between; all-pitying Heaven, The gods in bounty work up storms about us, Severe in mercy, chastening in its love,

That give mankind occasion to exert Ofttimes in dark and awful visitation,

Their hidden strength, and throw out into practice Doth interpose, and leads the wanderer back

Virtues that shun the day, and lie conceal'd
To the straight path, to be for ever after

In the smooth seasons and the calms of life.
A firm, undaunted, onward-bearing traveller,
Strong in humility, who swerves no more.

Joanna Baillie.

Who has not known ill fortune, never knew

Himself, or his own virtue. 71. ADVERSITY. Cup of

Mallett and Thomson. My God once mix'd a harsh cup, for me to drink from it,

74. ADVERSITY. Resignation in And it was full of acrid bitterness intensest;

Nay then farewell ! The black and nauseating draught did make me I have touch'd the highest point of all my greatness; shrink from it,

And, from that full meridian of my glory, And cry, O Thou who every draught alike dis. I haste now to my setting ; I shall fall pensest,

Like a bright exhalation in the evening,
This cup of anguish sore, bid me not quaff of it, | And no man see me more.—Shakespeare.
Or pour away the dregs and the deadliest half of it!'
But still the cup He held ; and seeing He ordain'd it,

75. ADVERSITY. Reviewing
One glance at Him-it turn'd to sweetness as I
drain'd it.---Oriental Tr. by W. R. Alger.

WIEN we are young, this year we call the worst

That we can know ; this bitter day is cursed, 72. ADVERSITY. Diverse effects of

And no more such our hearts can bear, we say.

But yet, as time from us falls fast away,
SOME souls we see

There comes a day, son, when all this is fair
Grow hard and stiffen with adversity.

And sweet to what, still living, we must bear.

'Better'd is bale by bale that follows it,' The rugged metal of the mine

The saw saith. - William Morris.
Must burn before its surface shine;
But plunged within the furnace flane,

76. ADVERSITY : transient. It bends and melts—though still the same.


AFTER the storm, a calm ; 73. ADVERSITY. Gain of

After the bruise, a balm;

For the ill brings good in the Lord's own time, The good man suffers but to gain,

And the sigh becomes the psalm.
And every virtue springs from pain :
As aromatic plants bestow

After the drought, the dew;
No spicy fragrance while they grow;

After the cloud, the blue ; But, crush'd or trodden to the ground,

For the sky will smile in the sun's good time, Diffuse their balmy sweets around.

And the earth grow glad and new.

Mrs Crawford. He who hath never warr’d with misery

Ye good distress'd! Nor ever tugg'd with fortune and distress,

Ye noble few! who here unbending stand Hath had n' occasion, nor no field to try

Beneath life's pressure, yet bear up awhile, The strength and forces of his worthiness; And what your bounded view, which only saw Those parts of judgment which felicity

A little part, deem'd evil, is no more ; Keeps as conceal'd, affiction must express, The storms of wintry time will quickly pass, And only men show their abilities,

And one unbounded spring encircle all. And what they are, in their extremities.


77. AFFECTATION. Ministerial
By adversity are wrought
The greatest works of admiration,

IN man or woman, but far most in man,
And all the fair examples of renown

And most of all in man that ministers
Out of distress and misery are grown.

And serves the altar, in my soul I loathe
Daniel. | All affectation. 'Tis my perfect scorn;


Object of my implacable disgust.

80. AFFECTION. Maternal What! will a man play tricks, will he indulge

When first thou camest, gentle, shy, and fond, A silly, fond conceit of his fair form

My eldest born, first hope, and dearest treasure, And just proportion, fashionable mien,

My heart received thee with a joy beyond
And pretty face, in presence of his God?

All that it yet had felt of earthly pleasure !
Or will he seek to dazzle me with tropes,
As with the diamond on his lily hand,

Nor thought that any love again might be

So deep and strong as that I felt for thee.
And play his brilliant parts before my eyes,
When I am hungry for the bread of life?
He mocks his Maker, prostitutes and shames

Then thou, my merry love, -bold in thy glee,

Under the bough, or by the firelight dancing, His noble office, and, instead of truth,

With thy sweet temper, and thy spirit free,Displaying his own beauty, starves his flock.

Didst come, as restless as a bird's wing glancing, Therefore avaunt all attitude, and stare,

Full of a wild and irrepressible mirth, And start theatric, practised at the glass !

Like a young sunbeam to the gladden'd earth! I seek divine simplicity in him Who handles things divine; and all besides,

| At length THOU camest, -thou, the last and least, Though learn'd with labour, and though much

Nicknamed 'the Emperor' by thy laughing admired

brothers, By curious eyes and judgments ill-inform'd,

Because a haughty spirit swellid thy breast, To me is odious as the nasal twang

And thou didst seek to rule and sway the others, Heard at conventicle, where worthy men,

Mingling with every playful infant wile Misled by custom, strain celestial themes

A mimic majesty that made us smile. Through the press'd nostril, spectacle-bestrid.

Different from both! yet each succeeding claim 78. AFFECTION. Elevating

I, that all other love had been forswearing,

Forthwith admitted, equal and the same; 0! there is one affection which no stain

Nor injured either hy this love's comparing, Of earth can ever darken,—when two find,

Nor stole a fraction for the newer call, The softer and the manlier, that a chain

But in the mother's heart found room for all ! Of kindred taste has fasten'd mind to mind.

Caroline E. Norton. 'Tis an attraction from all sense refined ; The good can only know it ; 'tis not blind

81. AFFECTION. Paternal
As love is unto baseness; its desire
Is but with hands entwined to lift our being higher.

BETWEEN the dark and the daylight,

When night is beginning to lower,

Comes a pause in the day's occupations, 79. AFFECTION. Instinctive

That is known as the children's hour. My sweet wee nursling ! thou art sweet to me

I hear in the chamber above me As sun to flowers, or honey to the bee

The patter of little feet, Music in summer bowers, the freshening stream

The sound of a door that is open'd, To bright wings dipping from the sultry beam

And voices soft and sweet llope to the mourner, to the weary restTo the young dreamer, visions of the blest!

From my study I see in the lamplight, Yes! thou'rt a charm!-a most mysterious spell !

Descending the broad hall stair, Birds, bees, and flowers, can just as ably tell

Grave Alice and laughing Allegra, Why sunshine, scent, and streams their pleasures be,

And Edith with golden hair. As thy young mother why she dotes on thee

A whisper and then a silence; With such unmeasured, fond intensity!

Yet I know by their merry eyes Breathing and crying are thy only speech

They are plotting and planning together
But, oh! for me, what eloquence hath each !

To take me by surprise.
Sounds of my first-born !-how my heart they thrill,
Like the sweet babblings of a hidden rill;

A sudden rush from the stairway,
A well of future blessedness art thou !

A sudden raid from the hall,
My morning star, my crown of gladness now!

By three doors left unguarded,
Mrs Richardson. I They enter my castle wall.

They climb up into my turret,

I did not wrong myself so, but I placed
O'er the arms and back of my chair ;

A wrong on thee. For perfect strains may float If I try to escape, they surround me:

'Neath master-hands, from instruments defaced, — They seem to be everywhere.

And great souls, at one stroke, may do and dote.

Elizabeth Barrett Browning They almost devour me with kisses,

Their arms about me intwine,
Till I think of the Bishop of Bingen

84. AFFECTION. Tenacious
In his Mouse-Tower on the Rhine.

In my boy's loud laughter ringing,
Do you think, O blue-eyed banditti,

In the sigh more soft than singing
Because you have scaled the wall,

Of my baby-girl that nestles up into this mortal Such an old mustache as I am

breast, Is not a match for you all ?

And every voice most dear

Comes a whisper—'Rest not here.' I have you fast in my fortress,

And the rest Thou art preparing, is it best, Lord, And will not let you depart,

is it best? But put you into the dungeon In the round tower of my heart.

‘Lord, a little, little longer!'

Sobs the earth-love, growing stronger : And there will I keep you for ever,

He will miss me, and go mourning through his Yes, for ever and a day,

solitary days. Till the walls shall crumble to ruin,

And heaven were scarcely heaven
And moulder in dust away.

If these lambs which Thou hast given
H. W. Longfellow.

Were to slip out of our keeping and be lost in the

world's ways. 82. AFFECTION. Sacrifices of

Lord, it is not fear of dying, Is it indeed so? If I lay here dead,

Nor an impious denying Wouldst thou miss any life in losing mine?

Of Thy will, which for evermore on earth, in And would the sun for thee more coldly shine,

heaven, be done: Because of grave-damps falling round my head ?

But the love that desperate clings I marvell’d, my Belovéd, when I read

Unto these my precious things Thy thought so in the letter. I am thine

In the beauty of the daylight, and the glory of the But ... so much to thee? Can I pour thy wine

sun. While my hands tremble? Then my soul, instead

Ah, Thou still art calling, calling, Of dreams of death, resumes life's lower range.

With a soft voice unappalling; Then, love me, Love! look on me ... breathe on

And it vibrates in far circles through the everlasting me !

years; As brighter ladies do not count it strange,

When Thou knockest, even so! For love, to give up acres and degree,

I will arise and go.-D. M. Muloch Craik. I yield the grave for thy sake, and exchange My near, sweet view of Heaven, for earth with thee! Elizabeth Barrett Browning. 85. AFFECTIONS. Strong

What war so cruel, or what siege so sore, 83. AFFECTION. Sudden

As that which strong affections do apply

Against the fort of reason, evermore
The first time that the sun rose on thine oath

To bring the soul into captivity !-Spenser.
To love me, I look'd forward to the moon
To slacken all those bonds which seem'd too soon

86. AFFLICTION. Comfort in
And quickly tied to make a lasting troth.
Quick-loving hearts, I thought, may quickly loathe ; Blessed are they that mourn, for they shall find
And looking on myself, I seem'd not one

Comfort and joy!' Though flesh and blood rebel For such man's love !-more like an out of tune 'Gainst heavenward thoughts, and the vex'd spirit Worn viol, a good singer would be wroth

swell To spoil his song with, and which, snatch'd in haste, With anxious tossings, still, the veil behind Is laid down at the first ill-sounding note.

| Of earth-born mists, the faith-directed mind

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