Jacob's Well.

The disciples marveled that he talked with the woman.—ST. JOHN iv. 27.

HERE, after Jacob parted from his brother,

His daughters linger'd round this well, new made; Here, seventeen centuries after, came another,

And talked with JESUS, wondering and afraid.
Here, other centuries past, the emperor's mother
Shelter'd its waters with a temple's shade.
Here, 'mid the fallen fragments, as of old,
The girl her pitcher dips within its waters cold.

And Jacob's race grew strong for many an hour,
Then torn beneath the Roman cagle lay;—
The Roman's vast and earth-controlling power

Has crumbled like these shafts and stones away;
But still the waters, fed by dew and shower,

Come up, as ever, to the light of day;
And still the maid bends downward with her urn,
Well pleased to see its glass her lovely face return.

And those few words of truth first uttered here,
Have sunk into the human soul and heart;
A spiritual faith dawns bright and clear,

Dark creeds and ancient mysteries depart;

316

JACOB'S WELL.

The hour for God's true worshipers draws near;

Then mourn not o'er the wrecks of earthly art; Kingdoms may fall, and human works decay,

Nature moves on unchanged-Truths never pass away. James Freeman Clarke.

The Miraculous Draught.

Now, when he had left speaking, he said unto Simon, "Launch out into the deep, and let down your nets for a draught." And Simon, answering, said unto him, "Master we have toiled all the night and have taken nothing; nevertheless at thy word, I will let down the net."-ST. LUKE V. 4, 5.

How long o'er the lake hung the shadows of night
That fell from the brow of the mountain around!
And pale gleamed the moon in her palace of light,
While scarcely was heard through the welkin a sound.

All bootless their toil, and their sigh filled the gale,
When blushed on the highlands the dawning of day;
In silence and sadness they spread their white sail,
And hied on the face of the waters away.

But who on that shore moves majestic along?
His eye beaming mercy-his arm clothed with might!
How he holds in suspense the wondering throng,
While they hang on his lips, all entranced with delight!

How calmed are the billows! how stilled is the breeze! Earth, water, and winds, him their Sovereign confess; E'en the birds hush their chorus amidst the tall trees, And the children of sorrow forget their distress.

318

THE MIRACULOUS DRAUGHT.

None lose by the Saviour; once more at thy word

The nets are extended beneath the blue sea; The tribes of the wide weltering waves own their Lord,

And hasten to pay their allegiance to thee.

C. East.

The Paal of Bethesda.

Jesus saith unto him, “Rise, take up thy bed, and walk." And immediately the man was made whole, and took up his bed and walked.—ST. JOHN v. 8, 9.

PALE, weary watcher by Bethesda's pool,
From dewy morn, to silent glowing eve;
While round thee play the freshening breezes cool,
Why wilt thou grieve?

Listen! and thou shalt hear the unearthly tread
Of heaven's bright herald passing swiftly by,
O'er the calm pool his healing wing to spread:
Why wilt thou die?

At his approach, once more the troubled wave
Leaps gushing into life, its torpor gone;
Once more called forth its boasted power to save,
Which else had none !

Ah! then his spirits feel a deeper grief,
When o'er the rippling surface healing flows;

His wasted limbs experience no relief;

No help he knows!