A book of English poetry; ed. by T. Shorter

318 POEXS OP RELIOION.

Speak to me ae to Mary at thy feet.-

.A.nd if no precioua r.na my bAnda beetow,

Let my tea.n drop ltke amber, wb.ik I 1u

In reach of thy div\neet voice complete

1u humantWt t.il'ection. Thu•, in 80oth

To loae the aenae of loeing I Aa a chUd,

Wh011e aon~-birJ aeek:a the wood for evermnN>,

Ia aun~ to tn it. ateud by mother'a month-

Till, ainktng on her breaat, lov&-recuncUeJ,

He aleepa the faat.er th.t.t he wept before.

E. B. Baowlfll(G.

«onADlai.Ullt.

0 W1t.BY heart, opp~'d with care,

And pain, &nd grief, &nd bitter woe!

Inly perpl11x'd, nor seeing where

Tlly coune doth tend 'mid onward 6ow

Of ceaeeleu time ; presaging ill :

Huah &11 tby griet'a I &nd le~ the e&lm

From h&Avenly aphe.rea thy boeom WI,

.And &II thy 110ul, like holy paalm

To God a1100nd I Yea I like the choir

Of aerapha that before h.ia th.t-one

Siog evermore. Let apirit-fire

Purge all thy droaa; and every lone

From angel-harps thy beillg thrill

Reeponaive, till all discord& oeaee:

Through blinding mrs, Ood'a purpoae will

Unrold ita love, and whiaper-Puaa..

8BO&TJ!.R.

;Jines forittm bt 1!lilioa in ~i• f.)lb ~gt.

I AM old and blind!

M.en point at me as IJIDitt.en by Ood'e frown-

AfBicted and deserted of my mind-

Yet am I not out down.