AFFLICTION.

XVIII.

DAVID AND JONATHAN.

"Thy love to me was wonderful, passing the love of women."

O HEART of fire! misjudged by wilful man,
Thou flower of Jesse's race!

What woe was thine, when thou and Jonathan
Last greeted face to face!

He doom'd to die, thou on us to impress

The portent of a blood-stained holiness.

Yet it was well-for so, mid cares of rule
And crime's encircling tide,

A spell was o'er thee, zealous one, to cool

Earth-joy and kingly pride;

With battle-scene and pageant, prompt to blend

The pale calm spectre of a blameless friend.

Ah! had he lived, before thy throne to stand,
Thy spirit keen and high,

Sure it had snapped in twain love's slender band,

So dear in memory;

Paul's strife unblest,* its serious lesson gives,

He bides with us who dies, he is but lost who lives.

I HAVE been honoured and obeyed,
I have met scorn and slight;

And my heart loves earth's sober shade
More than her laughing light.

For what is rule but a sad weight

Of duty and a snare?

What meanness, but with happier fate

The SAVIOUR's Cross to share?

*Acts xv. 39.

D

This my hid choice, though not from heaven,

Moves on the heavenward line;

Cleanse it, good Lord, from sinful leaven,

And make it simply Thine.

XX.

MOSES.

MOSES, the patriot fierce, became
The meekest man on earth,

To shew us how love's quickening flame
Can give our souls new birth.

Moses, the man of meekest heart,

Lost Canaan by self-will,

To shew, where Grace has done its part,

How sin defiles us still.

Thou, who hast taught me in Thy fear,

Yet seest me frail at best,

O grant me loss with Moses here,

To gain his future rest!

8.

XXI.

"And we indeed justly; for we receive the due reward of our deeds."

MORTAL! if e'er thy spirits faint,
By grief or pain opprest,

Seek not vain hope, or sour complaint,
To cheer or ease thy breast;

But view thy bitterest pangs as sent
A shadow of that doom,

Which is thy soul's just punishment
In its own guilt's true home.

Be thine own judge: hate thy proud heart;
And while the sad drops flow,

E'en let thy will attend the smart,

And sanctify thy woe.

J.

XXII.

DAVID NUMBERING THE PEOPLE.

I am in a great strait-let me fall now into the hand of the Lord.

IF e'er I fall beneath Thy rod,

As through life's snares I go,

Save me from David's lot, O God!

And choose Thyself the woe.

How should I face Thy plagues? which scare,

And haunt, and stun, until

The heart or sinks in mute despair,

Or names a random ill.

If else... then guide in David's path,
Who chose the holier pain;

Satan and man are tools of wrath,

An Angel's scourge is gain.