You shall be mine, I will be yours, Your God unalterably true.

"Yet not unsought or unimplored,

The plenteous grace I shall confer;* No-your whole hearts shall seek the Lord,

I'll put a praying spirit there.

"From the first breath of life divine, Down to the last expiring hour, The gracious work shall all be mine, Begun and ended in my power."

WILLIAM COWPER (1731-1800).

EZEKIEL.

"Also the word of the Lord came unto me, saying, Son of man, behold, I take away from thee the desire of thine eyes with a stroke; yet neither shalt thou mourn nor weep, neither shall thy tears run down. Forbear to cry, make no mourning for the dead. So

I spake unto the people in the morning: and at even my wife died."

He knew my soul, He knew she was in truth,

My heart's desire; and I had none on earth

But only her. Upon my troubled life She gently shone, as shineth some fair

star

Upon tempestuous waters, as this night Upon the swellings dark of Jordan shines

The Summer-Moon.

Until she rose on me Earth had no brightness; for when visions dread

Of God's unutterable glory swept Before mine eyes, they left me dazzled

SO

That the sweet, common smiles of moon and sun,

Which gladden other men, grew faint and wan.

And faded in my sky, and served no

more

To light mine exile-land. I could not grieve

*Ezek. xxxvi: 37.

Sweet tie to earth, to hold my eager soul

A little from the heavenly things, which wooed

With burning glances, till they wellnigh drew

My spirit through the Gates.

It was a time

Of tumult and reproach, when God, who clothed

My soul with thunders, bade me utter them

To all the people, whether they would hear

Or would forbear. When I who stood between

An angry God and angry nations, felt The shock of their dread warfare, till my soul

Reeled with the clangour-then she came to me,

Walking in white, and bearing in her hand

A cup of blessing. As the waters cool Which flow from Lebanon, to meet the hot

And thirsty valleys, so she came to me; And from that day she was my heart's delight

And comfort for a while, a little while,Until God took her.

Oftentimes I came, With burning thoughts, and with a weary heart,

Towards our little home at eventide, After a day of conflict. Then she came To meet me smiling, and mine eyes would grow

Most sweetly dim, and lose the dazzling Light

Of things unspeakable, and only see That smile instead. And she would comfort me,

And sit beside me while the golden sun Went down in peace, and sweetly sing to me

Some of the songs of Zion. We were bound

In exile, and we could not sing when those

Who bound us bade us sing the sacred

songs

Of the beloved Land: but when the hour

Of twilight came, when we might rest in peace

Alone together, while the daylight waned,

And the broad shadow of God's wing was spread

Over the exile-hearts, until we seemed Once more to dwell at home, the captive maids

Of Israèl would sing. They took their harps

At sunset from the willows, and the songs

Were strangely sweet that floated through the land,

Although the sound of Babel's sighing streams

Made mournful answer.

Thus she sang to me, And at the evening-time God gave us light

In our poor dwelling. To her gentle

eyes

No heavenly doors were opened, she had seen

No glorious visions; yet she seemed to dwell

More near to God, to hold His name more dear,

And hail Him "Father" with a sweeter trust

Than I, who had beheld in visions dread

The billows of tempestuous glory sweep Around His throne. But in those evening hours

By the faint starlight, while she sang

to me,

My heart grew sweet and calm, and I could rest With her in God.

And she was my delight And comfort for a while, a little while, Until God called her.

"Son of man, behold,

I take from thee this day thine only

one, Thine heart's desire!"

Ere night mine only joy shall shattered lie

In darkness with the dead?-I must not fail

Nor be discouraged. In the work of God

No man may turn or falter: I am His, Not mine, nor hers; I dare not weep for her

When God hath need of me. I dare not mourn

The while I speak His word, for no weak tears

May fall upon the sacred fire; no sound Of breaking human heart may mar the full

Majestic music of a Prophet's voice, Speaking to all the ages, from the

mount

Of cloud and vision. Thus I spake for God

And did not falter, rather did my soul Wax stronger as it overcame. And still The hand of God was on me, and I

went

From strength to strength, till all the people bent

Before the mighty Word, and many fell

With trembling to the earth.

But once before,

When I was heralding the things to

come

Upon the Holy Place, thus mighty grew The word of God in me and did prevail:

When to the Princes in the Gate I spake

At His command, the thunder of His power

Broke on the word, and rose, till,

overcome

By that dread sound of wrath, a mighty Prince

Fell at my feet and died.* Thus have I felt

My soul grow strong, when on the threshold dark

Of some great Vision, the Archangel

sounds

The Trump of God. For while the

Trumpet peals

*Ezekiel xi: 13.

On my calm heart in Heaven, as my last,

Last memory of thee until we meet: Nay, thou must smile on me; one little smile,

Cast like a wild-flower on my misty way,

Will make it brighter, and I cannot go In peace until thou bless me."

Then she looked From me to the faint hills, that distant shone

Towards the sinking sun. And I could feel

That, as she moved a little in my arms, Her soul was stirring gently, as a bird Stirs in its nest, about to take its flight To brighter lands. And from her eyes the veil

Was falling; things unspeakable and