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SLEEPING, BETWEEN TWO SOLDIERS, BOUND WITH

TWO CHAINS."

"

THOU thrice denied, yet thrice beloved,
Watch by thine own forgiven friend;

In sharpest perils faithful proved,
Let his soul love Thee to the end.

The prayer is heard-else why so deep
His slumber on the eve of death?
And wherefore smiles he in his sleep
As one who drew celestial breath?

He loves and is beloved again—

Can his soul choose but be at rest?

Sorrow hath fled away, and pain
Dares not invade the guarded nest.

He dearly loves, and not alone:

For his winged thoughts are soaring high Where never yet frail heart was known

To breathe in vain affection's sigh.

He loves and weeps-but more than tears Have sealed Thy welcome and his loveOne look lives in him, and endears

Crosses and wrongs where'er he rove :

That gracious chiding look, Thy call

To win him to himself and Thee, Sweetening the sorrow of his fall Which else were rued too bitterly.

Even through the veil of sleep it shines,
The memory of that kindly glance ;—
The Angel watching by divines

And spares awhile his blissful trance.

His dream is changed-the Tyrant's voice
Calls to that last of glorious deeds—
But as he rises to rejoice,

Not Herod but an Angel leads.

He dreams he sees a lamp flash bright,
Glancing around his prison-room-

But 'tis a gleam of heavenly light

That fills up all the ample gloom.

The flame, that in a few short years

Deep through the chambers of the dead

Shall pierce, and dry the fount of tears,

Is waving o'er his dungeon-bed.

Touched he upstarts-his chains unbind-
Through darksome vault, up massy stair,
His dizzy, doubting footsteps wind
To freedom and cool moonlight air.

Then all himself, all joy and calm,
Though for a while his hand forego,
Just as it touched, the martyr's palm,
He turns him to his task below;

The pastoral staff, the keys of heaven,
To wield awhile in grey-haired might,
Then from his cross to spring forgiven
And follow JESUS out of sight.

"PETER SEETH THE DISCIPLE WHOM JESUS LOVED."

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LORD, and what shall this man do?'
Ask'st thou, Christian, for thy friend?

If his love for Christ be true,

Christ hath told thee of his end:
This is he whom God approves,
This is he whom Jesus loves.

Ask not of him more than this,
Leave it in his Saviour's breast,
Whether, early called to bliss,

He in youth shall find his rest,
Or armed in his station wait,
Till his Lord be at the gate:

Whether in his lonely course

(Lonely, not forlorn) he stay,
Or with love's supporting force

Cheat the toil and cheer the way:
Leave it all in His high hand,

Who doth hearts as streams command.

Gales from heaven, if so He will,
Sweeter melodies can wake

In the lonely mountain rill,

Than the meeting waters make : Who hath the Father and the Son, May be left, but not alone.

Sick or healthful, slave or free, Wealthy, or despised and poor

What is that to him or thee,

So his love to Christ endure? When the shore is won at last, Who will count the billows past?

Only, since our souls will shrink At the touch of natural grief, When our earthly loved ones sink,

Lend us, Lord, thy sure relief; Patient hearts, their pain to see, And thy grace, to follow Thee.

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