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THE VAUDOIS TEACHER.
[“The manner in which the WALDENSES and heretics disseminated their principles among the CATHOLIC gentry, was by carrying with them a box of trinkets, or articles of dress. Having entered the houses of the gentry, and disposed of some of their goods, they cautiously intimated that they had commodities far more valuable than these — inestimable jewels, which they would show if they could be protected from the clergy. They would then give their purchasers a bible or testament; and thereby many were deluded into heresy." R. Saccho.] “Oh, lady fair, these silks of mine are beautiful and rare — The richest web of the Indian loom, which beauty's queen might
wear ; And my pearls are pure as thy own fair neck, with whose
radiant light they vie ; I have brought them with me a weary way, — will my gentle
lady buy ?” And the lady smiled on the worn old man through the dark and
clustering curls, Which veiled her brow as she bent to view his silks and glitter
ing pearls ; And she placed their price in the old man's hand, and lightly
turned away, But she paused at the wanderer's earnest call — “My gentle
lady, stay !”
“Oh, lady fair, I have yet a gem which a purer lustre flings, Than the diamond flash of the jewelled crown on the lofty brow
of kings — A wonderful pearl of exceeding price, whose virtue shall not decay, Whose light shall be as a spell to thee and a blessing on thy
The lady glanced at the mirroring steel where her form of grace
was seen, Where her eye shone clear, and her dark locks waved their
clasping pearls between ;Bring forth thy pearl of exceeding worth, thou traveller grey
and old — And name the price of thy precious gem, and my page shall
count thy gold. The cloud went off from the pilgrim's brow, as a small and
meagre book, Unchased with gold or gem of cost, from his folding robe he
took! “ Here, lady fair, is the pearl of price, may it prove as such to
thee! Nay — deep thy gold — I ask it not, for the word of God is
The hoary traveller went his way, but the gift he left behind Hath had its pure and perfect work on that high-born maiden's
mind, And she hath turned from the pride of sin to the lowliness of
truth, And given her human heart to God in its beautiful hour of
And she hath left the grey old halls, where an evil faith had
power, The courtly knights of her father's train, and the maidens of
her bower ; And she hath gone to the Vaudois vales by lordly feet untrod, Where the poor and needy of earth are rich in the perfect love
THE CALL OF THE CHRISTIAN.
Not always as the whirlwind's rush
On Horeb's mount of fear,
To Midian's shepherd seer,
To Israel's prophet bards,
Nor gift of fearful words —
Not always thus, with outward sign
Of fire or voice from Heaven,
The call of God is given !
Love for the true and right -
Strength for the Christian's fight.
Nor unto manhood's heart alone
The holy influence steals : *
The heart of woman feels !
The Saviour's errand sought-
And meek Aquila wrought :
Or those meek ones whose martyrdom
Rome's gathered grandeur saw :
Braved the Crusader's war,
When the green Vaudois, trembling, heard,
Through all its vales of death,
From woman's failing breath.
And gently, by a thousand things
Which o'er our spirits pass,
Or vapors o'er a glass,
Of music or of shade,
And merciful is made.
Oh, then, if gleams of truth and light
Flash o’er thy waiting mind, Unfolding to thy mental sight
The wants of human kind ;
The earnest wish is known
An anguish not thine own :
Though heralded with nought of fear,
Or outward sign, or show :
It whispers soft and low;
Unseen, yet from above,
Thy Father's call of love !
XMY SOUL AND I.
STAND still, my soul, in the silent dark
I would question thee,
With God and me!
What, my soul, was thy errand here ?
Was it mirth or ease,
“Nay, none of these ! ”
Speak, soul, aright in His holy sight
Whose eye looks still
“To do his will ! ”
What hast thou done, oh soul of mine
That thou tremblest so ? Hast thou wrought His task, and kept the line
He bade thee go ?
What, silent all ! - art sad of cheer ?
Art fearful now ?
How brave wert thou ?
Aha! thou tremblest ! — well I see
Thou ’rt craven grown.
To stand alone ? —