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REPENTANCE.

Repent ye, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand.
Matt. iii., 2.

WHEN comes the awful tempest through the sky,— When far and fast the swift-winged lightnings fly,

And when the thunder's voice, sublimely loud,

Peals from the bosom of its parent cloud,

Who hath not watched with anxious eye to see
The first slow rain-drops falling heavily?

Who hath not blessed them, as with quickened rush,
From the dark face of heaven they freely gush,

To cool the fever of the sun-parched plain,

And bid the pulse of Nature calmly beat again ?

B

Is there not such a balm for spirits given,

When they have wandered from the ways of heaven?

When on the heart the steps of guilty wrath,

And gloomy sin, have traced a burning path?

When heaven no longer, with indulgent eye,
Looks on the frailties of mortality;

But musters all its vengeance, to be shed

In fiery ruin on the sinful head;

Then comes Repentance, to arrest that doom,

And her sweet tears are seen glist'ning amidst the gloom.

Oh, mild attendant on the fiend Remorse!

Sweet, placid follower in his painful course!

When he hath taught the stubborn heart to bleed,

When he hath bowed it like a broken reed,

How oft thou standest by his side, to turn
To cooling tears the fearful thoughts that burn
The frenzied brain,-thou bidst the glistening eye
Look through that hallowed dew towards the sky,

And with thy sweet voice whisperest-Peace may be, So that the heart will fix its hope, its trust in thee!

Remorse may come without thee,-dark and deep
His probings are, when thy hand doth not steep
The wounds in thy own balm; thou canst not dwell,
Save in the bosom whose wild sufferings tell
The demon there hath used his venomed sting,
And then 't is thine the tortured heart to bring

Back unto Hope,-to trace each footstep o'er
Where'er the cruel tyrant trod before;

To cool its fever with thy tender tears,

And bid it bring forth flowers of truth in future

years.

Strange! that the parents of so sweet a child

Should be themselves so savage and so wild;

Passion and guilt! 'twas these who brought thee forth,

And gave thee rudely to this sinful earth;

But so the rosebud blossoms on the thorn;
And so the rainbow of the cloud is born;
And so the bark, that Ocean's danger braves,
But finds a home upon that ocean's waves;
And so art thou, amidst the spirit's strife,
The hope the saving bark upon the sea of life!

Oh! thou didst touch the breast of her who knelt
Before the Saviour's feet; 't was thou didst melt
The fount of feeling frozen in her heart

So long; thou struck'st the chord, and thence did

start

The tones, the wordless tones, that rose on high,

As holy as an angel's melody.

And when had those dark eyes shed tears so sweet

As those that bathed that blest Redeemer's feet?

And when could lowly homage lovelier be

Than such as her's, who bent in reverence, born of

thee?

Turn to the death bed-where Remorse hath fixed

His fatal reign, unsoftened and unmixed

With thee. Upon that face, without controul,

Revel the fearful workings of the soul:

The eyes are fixed; but in their glassy gaze,
They see the crimes—the shame of long past days;
And nought beside for them no shining light,'
By thee revealed, bursts on their darkened sight;
And Conscience, watching o'er his guilty prey,
Sees with relentless frown trust after trust decay.

Now look again!-there lies another form

Stretched on its couch; the cheek is calm,-and warm

The heart with hope,-tears, happy tears within
The eyelid lingering, blot the view of sin;

That heart hath sinned-hath suffered; but thy balm

Hath healed the wounded breast, and bade a calm

Be on its heavings: in the last hour now

It looks on Death with an untroubled brow;

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