Pilgrim, here compelled to roam,
Nor allowed that path to tread;
Now when sweetest sense of home
On all living hearts is shed,

Doth not yearning sad, sublime,
At this season stir thy breast,
That thou canst not at this time
Seek thy home and happy rest?

Trench.

SOME MURMUR, &c.

Some murmur, when their sky is clear
And wholly bright to view,

If one small speck of dark appear

In their great neaven of blue. And some with thankful love are filled, If but one streak of light, One ray of God's good mercy gild The darkness of their night.

In palaces are hearts that ask,
In discontent and pride,
Why life is such a dreary task,

And all good things denied.

And hearts in poorest huts admire
How Love has in their aid

(Love that not ever seems to tire)

Such rich provision made.

Trench.

THOU CAM'ST NOT, &c.

Thou cam'st not to thy place by accident,
It is the very place God meant for thee;
And should'st thou there small scope for action

see,

Do not for this give room to discontent;

Nor let the time thou owest to God be spent
In idly dreaming how thou mightest be,
In what concerns thy spiritual life, more free
From outward hindrance or impediment.
For presently this hindrance thou shalt find
That without which all goodness were a task
So slight, that Virtue never could grow strong:
And would'st thou do one duty to His mind,
The Imposer's-over-burdened thou shalt ask,
And own thy need of grace to help, ere long.

Trench,

THE KINGDOM OF GOD.

I say to thee, do thou repeat
To the first man thou mayest meet
In lane, highway, or open street—

That he and we and all men move
Under a canopy of love,

As broad as the blue sky above;

That doubt and trouble, fear and pain, And anguish, all are shadows vain, That death itself shall not remain ;]

That weary deserts we may tread,
A dreary labyrinth may thread,
Thro' dark ways underground he led;

Yet, if we will one Guide obey,
The dreariest path, the darkest way
Shall issue out in heavenly day;

And we, on divers shores now cast,
Shall meet, our perilous voyage past,
All in our Father's house at last.

And ere thou leave him, say thou this, Yet one word more-they only miss The winning of that final bliss,

Who will not count it true, that Love,
Blessing, not cursing, rules above,
And that in it we live and move.

And one thing further make him know, That to believe these things are so, This firm faith never to forego,

Despite of all which seems at strife
With blessing, all with curses rife,
That this is blessing, this is life.

Trench.

WEEP NOT, &c.

Weep not for broad lands lost;
Weep not for fair hopes crost;
Weep not when limbs wax old;
Weep not when friends grow cold;
Weep not that Death must part
Thine and the best-loved heart;
Yet weep, weep all thou can-
Weep, weep, because thou art
A sin-defiled man.

Trench.

THE DAY OF DEATH.

Thou inevitable day,

When a voice to me shall say—
"Thou must rise and come away;

All thine other journeys past,
Gird thee, and make ready fast
For thy longest and thy last-”

Day, deep-hidden from our sight
In impenetrable night,

Who may guess of thee aright?