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“God bless thee, Eva–God be bless'd for Then turned away her languid eye,

To drop a tear or two—and die.
Alas, clouds gather'd quickly, and the storm
Fell without warning on our tender bud,

Sweet babe!

She tasted of life's bitter cup, Scattering its leaflets; and the star was

Refused to drink the portion up; drench'd In tears; the lamp burnt dimly; unawares

But turned her little head aside, The little lamb was faint; the weary dove

Disgusted with the taste and died. Cower'd its young head beneath its drooping Sweet babe! wing;

[fount She listened for a while to hear The chord, was loosen'd on our harp; the Our mortal griefs; then turned her ear Was troubled, and the rill ran nearly dry; To angel harps and songs, and cried And in our souls we heard our Father, saying, To join their notcs celestial-sighed and died. “ Will ye return the gift ?” The Voice was low

Sweet babe no more, but seraph now;
The answer lower still" Thy will be done.” | Before the throne behold her bow;.
And now where we had often pictured her. To heavenly joys her spirit flies,
I saw her one of the beatified;

Blest in the triumph of the skies;
Eva, our blossom, ours for ever now,

Adores the grace that brought her there, Unfolding in the atmosphere of love :

Without a wish, without a care, The star that set upon our earthly home

That washed her soul in Calvary's stream, Had risen in glory, and in purer skies

That shortened life's distressing dream. Was shining; and the lamp we sorely miss'd, Shed its soft radiance in a better home; Short pain, short grief, dear babe, were Our lamb was pasturing in heavenly meads; Now joys eternal and divine; [thine; Our dove had settled on the trees of life; Yes, thou art fled, and saints a welcome sing Another chord was ringing with delight,

| Thine infant spirit soars on angel-wing; Another spring of rapture was unseal'd,

Our dark affection might have hoped thy In Paradise ; our treasure was with God;

stay, The gift in the great Giver's strong right The voice of God has called his child away. hand;

[but say, Like Samuel, early in the temple found, And none who look'd on her could choose Sweet rose of Sharon, plant of holy ground, “Eva, sweet angel, God be bless'd for thee." Oh! more than Samuel blest, to thee is given,

E. H, Bicker steth. The God he served on earth, to serve in 198. BABE, Departure of a


Allan Cunningham. It came upon us by degrees :

200, BACKSLIDING, Hopelessness of. We saw its shadow ere it fell, The knowledge that our God had sent

Jesu, whither shall I go, His messenger for Babie Bell.

Thee my Saviour if I leave ? We shuddered with unlanguaged pain,

Only Thou canst ease my woe, And all our hopes were changed to fears,

Only thou canst pardon give. And all our thoughts ran into tears

None beside can save from sin; Like sunshine into rain.

None beside can make me clean. We cried aloud in our belief,

If I foolishly depart "O smite us gently, gently, God!

From the ark of Thy dear breast, Teach us to bend and kiss the rod,

Where shall my unsettled heart And perfect grow through grief.”

Find a ground whereon to rest ? Ah, how we loved her, God can tell ;

Whither, or to whom shall I Her heart was folded deep in ours.

From myself for succor fly? Our hearts are broken, Babie Bell !

Shall I back to Egypt go, At last he came, the messenger,

To my vomit turn again, The messenger from unseen lands :

To my flesh corruption sow, And what did dainty Babie Bell ?

Live anew in pleasures vain ? She only crossed her little hands,

No, with sin I cannot dwell;
She only looked more meek and fair!

Sin is worse than death and hell.
We parted back her silken hair,
We wove the roses round her brow,

Shall I my old toil renew,
White buds, the summer's drifted snow. -

Catch an honorable name, Wrap her from head to foot in flowers !

Praise which comes from man pursue, And thus went dainty Babie Bell

Idolize and pant for fame ?
Out of this world of ours.

Who on fame bestows his care,
Thomas Bailey Aldrich.

Grasps a shadow, feeds on air. 199. BABE, Salvation for the

If my God I cast behind, Sweet babe!

God, the Source of perfect bliss, She glanced into our world to see

Vain are all my hopes to find A sample of our misery;

True, substantial happiness :

Search the whole creation round, 1 A time is fixed, albeit unknown to thee,
Can it out of God be found ?

Which, when it comes, thou banished hence
shalt be.

[eye No, my God! if from the Way,

Round this fair spot, though hidden from the From the Truth if I remove,

By mist and vapor, many islands lie: Must I not forever stray,

Bare are their coasts, and dreary and forlorn, On in error's mazes rove,

And unto them the banished kings are borne; Rove from peace to troublous strife, On each of these an exiled king doth mourn, Rove to death from endless Life?

For when a new king comes, they bear away Who would go from health to pain,

The old, whom now no vassals more obey; Turn from grace to wickedness,

Stripped of his royalties and glories lent, Freedom quit, to hug a chain,

Unhonored and unwilling he is sent

Unto his dreary island banishment;
Grieve his friend, his foe to please ?

[true, Who, his Saviour God to shun,

While all who girt his throne with service Would to his destroyer run ?

Now fall away from him, to serve the new. Charles Wesley.

What I have told thee, lay betimes to heart,

And ere thy rule is ended take thy part, 201. BANISHMENT, An Epilogue.

That thou hereafter on thine isle forlorn On a fair ship, borne swiftly o'er the deep, Do not thy vanished kingdom vainly mourn, A man was lying, wrapped in dreamless When nothing of its pomp to thee remains sleep;

On that bare shore save only memory's pains. When unawares upon'a sunken rock [shock. That vessel struck, and shattered with the But strange! the plank where lay the sleeper

Much, O my Prince! my words have thee bore :

distrest, Him wrapt in deep sleep ever, to the shore: 11

Thy head has sunk in sorrow on thy breast; It bore him safely through the foam

wana Yet idle sorrow helps not-I will show

| A nobler way, which shall true help bestow. spray, High up on land, where couched 'mid flowers

: This counsel take-to others given in vain,

While no belief from them my words might Sweet tones first woke him from his sleep, when round


[there stand His couch observant multitudes he found:

Know then, whilst thou art monarch here, All hailed him then, and did before him bow,

iw Helps for the future many at thy command; And with one voice exclaimed—“Our king

Then, whilst thou canst, employ them to art thou."

adorn With jubilant applause they bore him on,

That island whither thou must once be borne. And set him wondering on a royal throne:

Unbuilt and waste and barren now that And some his limbs with royal robes arrayed,

strand, And some before him duteous homage paid.' There gush no fountains from the thirsty sand, And some brought gifts, all rare and costly

No groves of palm-trees have been planted things,

there, Nature's and Art's profusest offerings :

Nor plants of odorous scent embalm that air; Around him counsellors and servants prest,

While all alike have shunned to contemplate

That they should ever change their flattering All eager to accomplish his behest. Wish unaccomplished of his soul was none;

state. The thing that he commanded, it was done.

But make thou there provision of delight, Much he rejoiced, and he had well-nigh now

Till that which now so threatens, may invite; Forgotten whence he hither came, and how;

Bid there thy servants build up royal towers, Until at eve, of homage weary grown,

And change its barren sands to leafy bowers;

Bid fountains there be hewn, and cause to He craved a season to be left alone. Alone in hall magnificent he sate,

bloom And mused upon the wonder of his fate;

Immortal amaranths, shedding rich perfume.

So when the world, which speaks thee now When lo! au aged counsellor, a seer, Before unnoticed, to the king drew near;

so fair,

| And flatters so, again shall strip thee bare, -" And thee would I congratulate, my son,

And drive thee naked forth in harshest wise, Who hast thy reign in happy hour begun; Seen, hast thou the beginning, -yet attend,

Thou joyfully wilt seek thy paradise. While I shall also show to thee the end.

There will not vex thee memories of the past, That this new fortune doth not blind thee

While hope will heighten here the joys thou

hast. quite,


This do, while yet the power is in thine hand, Both sides regard, the darker with the TI

While thou hast helps so many at command.” Heed what so many who have ruled before, Failing to heed now rue for evermore. Though sure thy state and strong thy throne Then raised the Prince his head with courage appear,

new, King only art thou for a season here; And what the sage advised, prepared to do..


He ruled his realm with meekness, and mean-|| But 'neath His banner manfully

Firm at thy post remain;
He marvellously decked the chosen isle ;
Badc there his servants build up royal towers,

In token that thou too shalt tread
And change its barren sands to leafy bowers;

The path He travelled by; Bade fountains there be hewn, and caused to

Endure the Cross, despise the shame, bloom

And sit thee down on high ;
Immortal amaranths, shedding rich perfume.
And when he long enough had kept his

Thus outwardly and visibly


We seal thee for His own; To him sweet odors from that isle were

And may the brow that wears His Cross Then knew he that its gardens blooming

Hereafter share His crown. were,

Henry Alford. And all the yearnings of his soul were there. 204. BAPTISM, Vow in. Grief was it not to him, but joy, when they While in this sacred rite of thine His crown and sceptre bade him quit one

We yield our spirits now,

Shine o'er the waters, Dove divine When him his servants rudely did dismiss,

And seal the cheerful vow. 'Twas not the sentence of his ended bliss,

And may we die to earth and sin, But pomp and power he cheerfully forsook,

Beneath the mystic flood; And to his isle a willing journey took,

And when we rise, may we begin And found diviner pleasure on that shore,

To live anew for God! Than all his proudest state had known

S. F. Smith. before. Oriental, tr. by R. C. Trench.

205, BATTLE, Cause of.. 202. BAPTISM, Blessing of

Whither leads the path
Woe came to man in Eden,

To ampler fates that leads ?
To you comes triumph glad,

Not down through flowery meads
Who, at the banks of Jordan,

To reap an aftermath
Are in God's armor clad.

Of youth's vainglorious weeds,

But up the steep, amid the wrath
To-day He gives you blessing,

And shock of deadly-hostile creeds,
Then see ye prize it well,

Where the world's best hope and stay
And guard it, valiant soldiers,

By battle's flashes gropes a desperate way, Against the might of Hell.

And every turf the fierce foot clings to bleeds.
To-day the Heavenly Bridegroom

Peace hath her not ignoble wreath,
Throws wide for you the door,

Ere yet the sharp, decisive word
And offers you His garlands

Light the black lips of cannon, and the sword
Unfading evermore.

Dreams in its easeful sheath; [thought,

But some day the live coal behind the
For you the guardian angels

Whether from Baal's stone obscene,
In gladness sing above;

Or from the shrine serene

Of God's pure altar brought,

spen Looks down on you in love.

Bursts up in flame; the war of tongue and

Learns with what deadly purpose it was Then go in peace, believers,

fraught, Of God and water born,

And, helpless in the fiery passion caught, The Crucified adoring,

Shakes all the pillared state with shock of Who lifteth up your horn.

men :
And unto God the FATHER,

Some day the soft Ideal that we wooed
Who made you His to-day,

Confronts us fiercely foe-beset, pursued,

And cries reproachful: “Was it, then, my
Unending praises pay.



And not myself was loved ? Prove now thy 203. BAPTISM, a Token.

I claim of thee the promise of thy youth; In token that thou shalt not fear Give me thy life, or cower in empty phrase, Christ crucified to own,

The victim of thy genius, not its mate!" We print the Cross upon thee here

James Russell Lowell. And stamp thee His alone.

206. BATTLE, Hymn of. In token that thou shalt not blush

Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming To glory in His Name,

of the Lord : We blazon here upon thy front

He is trampling out the vintage where the His glory and His shame.

grapes of wrath are stored ;

He hath loosed the fateful lightning of his In token that thou shalt not flinch

terrible swift sword: Christ's quarrel to maintain,

His truth is marching on.

I have seen Him in the watch-fires of a hun- | Heed not the throng of foes !

[lot. drea circling camps;

To fight 'gainst hosts is still the Church's They have builded Him an altar in the even- Side thou with God, and thou must win the ing dews and damps;

day; I can read his righteous sentence by the dim Woe to the man 'gainst whom hell fighteth and flaring lamps;

not! His day is marching on.

Say not the fight is long :I have read a fiery gospel, writ in burnished

writ in burnished l 'Tis but one battle and the fight is o'er; rows of steel :

No second warfare mars thy victory, “As ye deal with my contemners, so with you

And the one triumph is for evermore! my grace shall deal:

Horatius Bonar. Let the Hero, born of woman, crush the ser 208. BEAUTY, Death of. pent with his heel,

Toll for the fair!
Since God is marching on."

Go, seek the lonely tomb,

Go, wander through its gloom, He has sounded forth the trumpet that shall

She slumbers there : never call retreat;

Her angel look that melted every soul, He is sifting out the hearts of men before his Her eye that rolled its glance of tenderness, judgment-seat :

Her form encircled round with every grace, Oh! be swift, my soul, to answer Him! be Now moulder 'neath corruptions sable stole ; jubilant, my feet!

The worm is cradled on her forehead fair, Our God is marching on.

And wantons 'mid the ringlets of her hair,

Each tint of faded beauty charms no more ; In the beauty of the lilies Christ was born The fragrance of her life, its living rose, across the sea,

No more in Heaven's own purest crimson With a glory in his bosom that transfigures

glows,you and me:

'Tis livid as the stream that laves th' AverAs He died to make men holy, let us die to nian shore. make men free, While God is marching on.

A fleeting day
Julia Ward Howe.

The cheek of beauty glows,

The voice of music flows, 207, BATTLE, The Christian's.

Then melts away; How goes the fight with thee?

Fluttering amid the summer's transient ray, The life-long battle with all evil things ? The gaudy fop expands his shining wing; Thine no low strife, and thine no selfish aim; | In bounding step the merry dancers spring, It is the war of giants and of kings. Like insects sportive, like the rainbow gay:

Soon o'er this smiling scene the wintry storm Does it grow slacker now?

Of dark affliction sheds its lurid gloom, Then tremble; for, be sure, thy hellish foe Wafting upon its blast Destruction's form. Slacks not; 'tis thou that slackest in the Who calls, with voice of thunder, to the fight;

tomb; Fainter and feebler falls each weary blow. Like lightning flashing o'er the sleeper's head,

He wakes them from their dream, then hides Dread not the din and smoke, The stifling poison of the fiery air;

them with the dead. J. G. Percival. Courage! It is the battle of thy God;

209. BEAUTY, Excuse for. Go, and for Him learn how to do and dare! In May, when sea-winds pierced our solitudes,

I found the fresh rhodora in the woods What though ten thousand fall !

w Spreading its leafless blooms in a damp nook, And the red field with the dear dead be

To please the desert and the sluggish brook ; strewn;

The purple petals fallen in the pool [gayGrasp but more bravely thy bright shield and ! "Ma

na Made the black waters, with their beauty sword;

Here might the red-bird come his plumes to Fight to the last, although thou fight'st

cool, alone.

And court the flower that cheapens his array. What though ten thousand faint,

Rhodora ! if the sages ask thee why Desert, or yield, or in weak terror flee!

This charm is wasted on the marsh and sky, Heed not the panic of the multitude;

Dear, tell them, that if eyes were made for Thine be the Captain's watchword, - Victory!

Then beauty is its own excuse for being.

Why thou wert there, O rival of the rose ! Look to thine armor well!

I never thought to ask; I never knew, Thine the one panoply no blow that fears; But in my simple ignorance suppose Ours is the day of rusted swords and shields, The self-same Power that brought me there

Of loosened helmets and of broken spears. / brought you. R. W. Emerson.


lightning ;

210. BEAUTY, Exposure of.

Prompted acts that sought the good Since brass, nor stone, nor earth, nor bound

Of ev'ry spirit; understood

The wants of ev'ry human heart, less sea, But sad mortality o'er-sways their power,

Eager ever to impart How with this rage shall Beauty hold a plea,

Blessings to the weary soul Whose action is no stronger than a flower ?

That hath felt the bitter world's control. O, how shall summer's honey breath hold out

Here is beauty felt such as ne'er Against the wreckful siege of battering days,

Met the eye or charmed the ear, Where rocks impregnable are not so stout,

In the soul's high duties, then I felt Nor gates of steel so strong, but Time decays?

That the loftiest beauty ever dwelt. O fearful meditation! Where, alack,

C. P. Cranch. Shall Time's best jewel from Time's chest lie 215 BEAUTY, Realm of. hid ?

; back! | For beauty hideth everywhere, that Reason's Or what strong hand can hold his swift foot

child may seek her, Or who his spoil of Beauty can forbid ?

| And having found the gem of price, may set William Shakespeare.

it in God's crown. 211. BEAUTY, Frailty of.

Beauty nestleth in the rosebud, or walketh Brittle beauty, that Nature made so frail,

the firmament with planets; Whereof the gift is small, and short in season ; 1

She is heard in the beetle's evening hymn, and Flowering to-day, to-morrow apt to fail ;

I shouteth in the matins of the sun; Fickle treasure, abhorred of reason :

The cheek of the peach is glowing with her Dangerous to deal with, vain of none avail;

smile, her splendor blazeth in the Costly in keeping, past not worth two peason; la Slipper in sliding, as is an eel's tail ;

She is the dryad of the woods, the naiad of

the streams : Hard to obtain, once gotten, not geason: Jewel of jeopardy, that peril doth assail;

Her golden hair hath tapestried the silkFalse and untrue, enticed oft to treason;

worm's silent chamber, Enemy to youth, that most may I bewail ;

And to her measured harmonies the wild Ah! bitter-sweet, infecting as the poison,

waves beat in time; Thou fairest as fruit that with the frost is With tinkling feet at eventide she danceth in taken;

the meadow, To-day ready ripe, to-morrow all too shaken.

Or, like a Titan, lieth stretched athwart the Earl of Surrey.

ridgy Alps;

She is rising in her veil of mist a Venus from 212, BEAUTY, Joy of.

the waters, A thing of beauty is a joy for ever:

Men gaze upon the loveliness, and lo! it is Its loveliness increases; it will never

beautiful exceedingly : Pass into nothingness; but still will keep She, with the might of a Briareus, is dragA bower quiet for us, and a sleep

ging down the clouds upon the moun. Full of sweet dreams, and health and quiet tain, breathing.

John Keats. Men look upon the grandeur, and lo, it is

excellent in glory. 213. BEAUTY, Lost.

There is beauty in the rolling clouds, and Beauty is but vain and doubtful good,

placid shingle beach, A shining glass, that fadeth suddenly, In feathery snows, and whistling winds, and A flower that dies, when first it'gins to bud; dun electric skies; A brittle glass, that's broken presently; There is beauty in the rounded woods, dank A doubtful good, a gloss, a glass, a flower,

with heavy foliage, Lost, faded, broken, dead within an hour. In laughing fields, and dinted hills, the valAnd as good lost is seldom or never found, oley and its lake; As fading gloss no rubbing will refresh, There is beauty in the gullies, beauty on the As flowers dead, lie withered on the ground, cliffs, beauty in sun and shade, As broken glass no cement can redress, In rocks and rivers, seas and plains,—the So Beauty blemish'd once, forever's lost,

earth is drowned in beauty. In spite of physic, painting, pain, and cost.

M. F. Tupper. Wm. Shakespeare.

| 216, BEAUTY, Treasures of. 214. BEAUTY, Moral.

Ye mindeful merchants, that with weary toil Labor in the path of duty,

Do seek most precious things to make your Gleamed up like a thing of beauty;

gain; Beauty shone in self-denial,

And both the Indias of their treasure spoil, In the sternest hour of trial;

What needeth you to seek so far in vain ? In a meek obedience

For lo! my love doth in herself contain To the will of Providence,

All this world's riches that may far be found; In the lofty sympathies

If saphyres, lo! her eyes be saphyres plain; That, forgetting selfish ease,

| If rubies, lo! her lips be rubies sound;

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