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A FALLEN SISTER.
"The maid is not dead, but sleepeth."
She is not dead-she only sleeps :
She is not dead :-it cannot be
That one, whose soul so glowed to Thee,
I know, I know how once she felt
Have seen her spirit mount and melt;
She that has fed on heavenly food,
She, that has bent at Heaven's high throne,
I know how many for her feel,
Sunk as she is in thoughtless sin,
A look of Thine can life impart ;
A tone of Thine can touch the heart :
very grave Thy voice must hear : Oh, bid it reach our sister's ear!
Press on her soul each
scorn, Which Thou for her of old hast borne ;
And ask how she will dare to meet
Thy face upon a Judgment-seat.
Talk to her heart, and bid her feel ;
She is not dead : Thy voice Divine
THE SAILOR'S MEDITATION, ON WATCH
ABOVE me hangs the silent sky ;
Around me rolls the sea ;
The crew is all at rest; and I
Am, Lord, alone with Thee !
Go where I may, from all remote,
Thou Lord art ever near :
No secret thought, but Thou canst note ;
No word, but Thou canst hear.
When all around are sunk to sleep,
Thy presence here I find :
Or speakest in the wind.
I look up to the starry sky ;
And read thy glories there :
“Can I be still Thy care ?"
I think of days and dangers past,
When I have found Thee nigh; And wonder how Thy love can last
To such a worm as I.
I think of terrors yet at hand,
Of Judgment, and the tomb; And ask my soul how it shall stand
To hear its final doom !
Ah, then, how all I've been and done
Would fill me with despair, If to the Cross I could not run,
And find a Saviour there !