Canadian Wild Flowers Part 23

Amazing love! what tongue can tell The wondrous depths that in thee dwell?

What angel's mind can e'er explore The riches of thy boundless store?

Oh, matchless love beyond degree,-- Christ bled, he died, and pleads for _me_!

LOVE YOUR ENEMIES.

Arrows dipped in poison flew From the fatal bow; And they pierced my bosom through, And they laid me low.

Every nerve to anguish strung, In distress I cried: And the waste around me rung, But no voice replied.

"Cruel was the hand," I said, "That could draw the bow: Curses rest upon the head Of my heartless foe!"

Turning straightway at the sound, In the tangled wood, Pale, and bearing many a wound, There a stranger stood.

Mournfully on me he gazed, Not a word he said: But one hand the stranger raised, And I saw it bled.

Blood was flowing from his side And his thorn-pierced brow; "Who has wounded thee?" I cried, And he answered, "_Thou!_"

Then I knew the Stranger well, And with sobs and tears Prostrate at his feet I fell, But he soothed my fears.

"Thou hast wounded me, but live,-- And my blessing take: Henceforth wilt thou not forgive Freely for my sake?"

Resting in his fond embrace, Eased of every woe,-- Then I said, with smiling face, "Jesus, bless my foe!"

THE ORPHAN.

The storm was loud; a murky cloud O'erhung the midnight sky, And rude the blast that wildly pa.s.sed A lonely orphan by; But ruder still the bitter thrill Of woe that rent his heart; Darker his fears, sadder the tears That evermore would start.

"Bleak is the storm, and on my form The winds in fury beat; A racking pain, torments my brain, And sore these weary feet; No ray of light illumes the night, And here, alas! I roam, Where tempests howl and wild beasts growl; Oh, that I had a home!

"Full many a day has rolled away Since I have laid me down, To cease to weep, and fall asleep, Save on the cold, damp ground; And many more may pa.s.s me o'er Ere I may cease to roam; One year ago it was not so,-- For then I had a home!

"Then on his child a father smiled, And fondly me caressed; When sorrow came, or bitter pain, I leaned upon his breast; He'd kiss my cheek, and kindly speak In soft and soothing tone; Oh, what a strange and dreary change-- For then I had a home!

"When evening gray shut out the day, Beside my mother's knee, With simple air I breathed the prayer That mother taught to me; Then laid me down, not on the ground, Not on this cold, damp stone; But on my bed, love made instead,-- For then I had a home!

"The livelong day I spent in play Around our peaceful cot, Or plucked the flowers from blooming bowers, And to my mother brought.

Then bliss and joy without alloy, And love around me shone; Then hope could rest within my breast-- For then I had a home!

"My father died, and by his side My darling mother sleeps; And now their child in anguish wild Wanders around and weeps!

The pleasant cot my father bought A stranger calls his own; With tearful face I left the place, For it was not my home!

"No home have I, no shelter nigh, And none my grief to share; But I've a Friend, to him I'll bend, And he will grant my prayer.

He'll lend an ear for he can hear, Though high his mighty throne; My steps he'll guide, and he'll provide The orphan with a home!

"Dark grows the sky, my lips are dry, And cold my aching brow; Is this a dream?--for, lo! I seem To see my mother now!

Faint grows my breath, the arm's of death Are surely round me thrown; Oh, what a light breaks on my sight!

There, there's the orphan's home!"

With smiling face in death's embrace The orphan calmly slept; He heard no more the tempest's roar; No more the orphan wept.

No longer pain might rack his brain, No longer might he roam, The dearly loved he'd met above, And found with them a home!

SENTENTIOUS PARAGRAPHS.

Rest, but few can comprehend the word. At morn I speak it, but at midnight most, and then 'tis music! Oh, the thought of _rest_--of perfect freedom, from distress and pain--of health, of vigor in each nerve and limb. The thought inspires, consoles, and makes me pray for fear I shall lose the blessing. Grant me, O G.o.d, a patient heart; and may my will be so conformed to thine, that I may wait thy own good pleasure, whatsoever it be.

There are moments when Calvary overshadows Mount Sinai; when the blessed words, "It is finished," swell long and loud above the roar of thunder and the sound of trumpets; when the Cross conceals the Tables of stone bearing the holy law of the Almighty, and then I can boldly reply to the upbraidings of Conscience, "There is now no condemnation to them which are in Christ Jesus."

Sing, my heart, for the day cometh wherein the night shall be no more at all remembered; the clouds shall melt like vapor, and the voice of mourning and lamentation shall be heard no more forever. Awake and sing!

"YE DID IT NOT TO ME."

'Twas night--a dark and stormy night: The wintry winds were high; Within the fire was blazing bright And as I trimmed the cheerful light I heard a pleading cry.

"Come in," in hasty tones I said, The door flew open wide-- The tempest roared--I shrieked with dread, For, lo, a Spectre from the dead Was standing by my side!

One icy hand was on mine own, I would have turned and fled: But ah! my limbs were chilled to stone, As in a low, sepulchral tone The sheeted Spectre said:

"It was a night like this I died, Scorned by my fellow men; To me a shelter was denied But when they slumber by my side, We shall, be equals then.

"I starved--and thou wast clothed and fed, And had enough to spare; Thou mightst have come with gentle tread, And stood beside my dying bed, And found a blessing there.

"But now my curse: nor mine alone-- The moment yet will be When thou wilt stand before the Throne, And hear it said in thunder tone: 'Thou didst it not to Me.'"

The light grew dim throughout the room, Soon darkness reigned supreme, But that pale Spectre from the tomb Still eyed me through the dusky gloom,-- Thank G.o.d, 'twas but a dream!

HEAR AND HELP ME.

Darkness and death are round me, The night is late; Yet once the Shepherd found me In such a state!

He lulled my fears to rest, He took me to his breast; Is he less kind to-day?