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All our duties lighter grow;
Pleasant seems the meanest station ; And from light to light we go
To the fulness of salvation.
Be our spirits ever such,
Tuned into harmonious meetness, Till their chords to every touch
Answer in some tone of sweetness ; Quickened by celestial grace,
Purified of earthly leaven, Shining, like the Prophet's face,
With a glory caught from heaven.
EXTRACT FROM AN UNPUBLISHED POEM.
How lovely is domestic harmony,
Of God is added to this love of man,
For what is heaven, but one immortal home, Where all are brother, Parent, child, or friend,
And all are happy, loving and beloved ?
from thence, Of hearts and lips in unison, ascends More acceptable to the God of love. The idol Self is from his throne cast down, And Ged set up instead ; and where He reigns There must be happiness, there must be heaven.
YES, I am calm, am humbled now;
The storm is rocked to rest ;
And count my lot the best.
I would not struggle with my God,
Or chide what He has given : Why should I murmur at the rod
That drives me on to heaven?
Yet withering thoughts at times will break
Across my calmer frame;
Though still they bow the same.
Dark moods, too long and fondly nursed,
Will o'er me come unsought :
To be the last forgot!
I meet thy pensive, moonlight face;
Thy thrilling voice I hear;
And former hours and scenes retrace,
Too fleeting, and too dear !
Then sighs and tears flow fast and free,
Though none is nigh to share ; And life has nought beside for me
So sweet as this despair.
There are crushed hearts that will not break;
And mine, methinks, is one ;
And thou to slumber gone.