TO-MORROW. LORD, what am I, that, with unceasing care, Thou didst seek after me, that thou didst wait, Has chilled the bleeding wounds upon thy feet. 'Soul, from thy casement look, and thou shalt see And oh! how often to that voice of sorrow, 'To-morrow we will open,' I replied; And, when the morrow came, I answered still, 'To-morrow.' HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW (from LOPE DE VEGA). A MEA CULPA. T me one night the angry moon, We sinned-we sin-is that a dream? Embrace me, fiends and wicked men, Draw back, Pure women, children with clear eyes, Let Scorn confess me on his rack,Stretched down by force, uplooking then Into the solemn skies. Singly we pass the gloomy gate; With all so usual, hour by hour, Lay'st thou to heart this common world? Thou wilt not frown, O God. Yet we What earthly vision never saw WILLIAM ALLINGHAM. LOST DAYS. THE lost days of my life until to-day, What where they, could I see them on the street Lie as they fell? Would they be ears of wheat Sown once for food but trodden into clay? Or golden coins squandered and still to pay? Or drops of blood dabbling the guilty feet? Or such spilt water as in dreams must cheat The throats of men in Hell, who thirst alway? I do not see them here; but after death God knows I know the faces I shall see, Each one a murdered self, with low last breath. 'I am thyself,-what hast thou done to me?' 'And I-and I-thyself,' (lo! each one saith,) 'And thou thyself to all eternity!' DANTE G. ROSSETTI. MULTUM DILEXIT. HE sat and wept beside his feet; the weight SHE Of sin oppressed her heart; for all the blame And the poor malice of the worldly shame, To her was past, extinct, and out of date, Only the sin remained, the leprous state; She sat and wept, and with her untressed hair From her sweet soul because she loved so much. Make me a humble thing of love and tears. HARTLEY COleridge. 'MAY BE THE LORD WILL LOOK UPON MY TEARS.' DROP, drop slow tears! And bathe those beauteous feet, Which brought from heaven The news and Prince of Peace. Cease not, wet eyes, His mercies to entreat: To cry for vengeance Sin doth never cease. In your deep floods Drown all my faults and fears, Nor let his eye See sin but through my tears. PHINEAS FLETCHER. Prayer and Aspiration. SEEKING GOD. AIN would my thoughts fly up to Thee, FAIN Thy peace, sweet Lord, to find; But, when I offer, still the world Sometimes I climb a little way And thence look down below; Then round about I turn my eyes I meet with Heaven in every thing, I see thy wisdom ruling all, I see myself among such hopes |