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Nor is this all: for I would know

The depth of shame, the crown of woe,
Stand by the stricken Mother's side,
While Thou art mocked and crucified.

And then in hours of saddest gloom
I still will watch around Thy tomb,
Till with the day new joy be born,
And Thou shalt rise on Easter-morn.

Oh, blessed thought, that faith can see
In every altar-Calvary,

Find there the loving arms outspread,
And fall before the fallen Head.

Come King of kings, come Light of light:
The Bride awaits the day all bright,
When she shall lift, her mourning o'er,
The shout of Paschal joy once more.

EMMAUS.

HEY talked of Jesus, as they went;
And Jesus, all unknown,

Did at their side himself present

With sweetness all His own.

Swift, as He oped the sacred word,

His glory they discerned ;

And swift, as His dear voice they heard,
Their hearts within them burned.

He would have left them, but that they
With prayers His love assailed :
"Depart not yet! a little stay!

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They pressed Him, and prevailed.
And Jesus was revealed, as there

He blessed and brake the bread:
But, while they marked His heavenly air,
The matchless Guest had fled.

And thus at times, as Christians talk

Of Jesus and His word,

He joins two friends amidst their walk,
And makes, unseen, a third.

And oh! how sweet their converse flows,

Their holy theme how clear,

How warm with love each bosom glows,

If Jesus be but near!

And they that woo His visits sweet,
And will not let Him go,

Oft, while His broken bread they eat,
His soul-felt presence know :
His gathered friends He loves to meet
And fill with joy their faith,
When they with melting hearts repeat
The memory of His death.

But such sweet visits here are brief;
Dispensed from stage to stage,
(A cheering and a prized relief,)
Of faith's hard pilgrimage.
There is a scene where Jesus ne'er,
Ne'er leaves His happy guests;
He spreads a ceaseless banquet there,
And love still fires their breasts.

SUNDAY EVE.

TIME of tranquil joy and holy feeling'
When over earth God's spirit from

above

Spreads out His wings of love!

When sacred thoughts, like angels, come ap

pealing

To our tent-doors; O eve, to earth and heaven The sweetest of the seven!

How peaceful are thy skies! thy air is clearer, As on the advent of a gracious time:

The sweetness of its prime

Blesseth the world, and Eden's days seem nearer:
I hear, in each faint stirring of the breeze,
God's voice among the trees.

O while thy hallowed moments are distilling Their fresher influence on my heart like dews, The chamber where I muse

Turns to a temple! He, whose converse thrilling Honored Emmaus, that old eventide,

Comes sudden to my side.

'Tis light at evening time when Thou art pres

ent;

Thy coming to the eleven in that dim room
Brightened, O Christ! its gloom:

So bless my lonely hour that memories pleasant
Around the time a heavenly gleam may cast,
Which many days shall last!

Raise each low aim, refine each high emotion, That with more ardent footstep I may press

Toward Thy holiness;

And, braced for sacred duty by devotion,
Support my cross along that rugged road
Which Thou hast sometime trod !

I long to see Thee, for my heart is weary:
O when, my Lord! in kindness wilt Thou come
To call Thy banished home?

The scenes are cheerless, and the days are

dreary;

From sorrow and from sin I would be free,

And evermore with Thee!

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