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THE FIRST RIDE.
(See the Engraving.)
Elysium of the patient race,
WHO IS ALONE ? How heavily the path of life
Is trod by him who walks alone ; Who hears not, on his dreary way,
Affection's sweet and cheering tone. Alone, although his heart should bound
With love to all things great and fair, They love not him,-there is not one
His sorrow or his joy to share. The ancient stars look coldly down
On man, the creature of a day; They lived before him, and live on
Till his remembrance pass away. The mountain lifts its boary head,
Nor to his homage deigns reply ; The stormy billows bear him forth,
Regardless which—to live or die.
The flow'ret blooms unseen by him,
Unmindful of his warmest praise ; And if it fade, seeks not his hand
Its drooping loveliness to raise. The brute creation own his power,
And grateful serve him, though in fear; Yet cannot sympathise with man,
For if he weep, they shed no tear. Alone, though in the busy town,
Where hundreds hurry to and fro, If there be none who for his sake
A selfish pleasure would forego; And oh ! how lonely, among those
Who have not skill to read his heart, When first he learns how summer friends
At sight of wintry storms depart. My Saviour! and didst thou too feel
How sad it is to be alone, Deserted in the adverse hour
By those who most thy love had known? The gloomy path, though distant still,
Was ever present to thy view ;
For us that painful course pursue.
Surrounded by malicious foes; No kindly voice encouraged thee,
When the loud shout of scorn arose. Yet there was calm within thy soul,
Nor Stoic pride that calmness kept, Nor Godhead, unapproached by woe,
Like man thou hadst both lov'd and wept. Thou wert not then alone, for God
Sustained thee by his mighty power ; His arm most felt, his care most seen,
When needed most in saddest hour; None else could comfort, none else knew
How dreadful was the curse of sin; He who controll'd the storm without,
Could gently whisper peace within.
Who is alone, if God be nigh?
Who shall repine at loss of friends,
Whose constant kindness never ends ;
Whose love can stop the flowing tear,
The pledge of mercy to appear.
WHY WEEPEST THOU?
(John xx. 15.) Mary! why weepest thou? what makes thee sad? What brings thee to this spot at early dawn? When all around thee is in darkness cladTell me thy heart; and bid thy griefs begone. “ With hasty step I come to seek my Lord; “ But find him not, for he is borne away. “Oh, ease this throbbing breast with some kind word, “ Show me where Jesus rests, without delay." Thy Lord is risen; he hath left the tomb, The massy stone is gone-he is not here, Fear not, though joys at present cannot bloom, Thou shalt behold thy Lord! dismiss thy fear.
Mary! whom seekest thou ? Say whence these tears ?" "-What! can it be my Master's voice that sounds!
My anxious thoughts I'll chase, dispel my fears, “My hope revives, my joy again abounds.
Thy resurrection-morn I knew would come, “ Thy deathless Godhead soon would burst the grave, “Humanity was touched, and that alone, “Nor death nor hell thy mighty power could brave." "Go tell my brethren, thou hast seen the Lord, “Soon from this earth to heaven I re-ascend “ Unto my Father and your faithful God, “Who peace will give, and love them without end."
M. S. COPE.