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196 MARGUERITE ST. LEON LOUD.

But with friends He loved whose hope had perished,
The Saviour stood, while through his bosom rush'd
A tide of sympathy for those He cherished,
And from his eyes the burning tear-drops gushed,
And bending o'er the tomb where Lazarus slept,
In agony of spirit, "Jesus wept."

Lo! Jesus' power the sleep of death hath broken,
And wiped the tear from sorrow's dropping eye!
Look up, ye mourners, hear what he hath spoken,
"He that believes on me shall never die."
Through faith and love your spirits shall be kept;
Hope brighter grew on earth when "Jesus wept."

PRAYER FOR AN ABSENT HUSBAND.

FATHER in Heaven!
Behold, he whom I love is daily trending
The path of life in heaviness of soul.
With the thick darkness now around him spreading
He long hath striven—
Oh, Thou most kind! break not the golden bowl.

Father in Heaven!
Thou who so oft hast healed the broken-hearted,
And raised the weary sprit bowed with care,
Let him not say his joy hath all departed,
Lest he be driven
Down to the deep abyss of dark despair.

Father in Heaven!
Oh, grant to his most cherished hopes a blessing,—
Let peace and rest descend upon his head,
That his torn heart, Thy holy love possessing,
May not be riven,—
Let guardian angels catch his lonely bed.

MARGUERITE ST. LEON LOUD. 197

Father in Heaven! 
Oh, may his heart be stayed on Thee! each feeling 
Still lifted up in gratitude and love;
And may that faith the joys of heaven revealing
To him be given,
Till he shall praise Thy name in realms above.

THE AGED.

I LOVE the aged;—every silver hair
On their time-honored brows, speaks to my heart
In language of the past; each furrow there,
In all my best affections claims a part;
Next to our God and Scripture's holy page,
Is deepest rev'rence due to virtuous age.

The aged Christian stands upon the shore
Of Time, a storehouse of experience,
Fill'd with the treasures of rich heav'nly lore;
I love to sit and hear him draw from thence
Sweet recollections of his journey past,
A journey crowned with blessings to the last.

Lovely the aged! when like shocks of corn,
Full ripe and ready for the reaper's hand,
Which garners fo the resurrection morn
The bodies of the just,—in hope they stand.
And dead must be the heart, the bosom cold,
Which warms not with affection for the old.

17*

Transcription Notes:
---------- Reopened for Editing 2023-06-28 18:50:56