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Mission of John's Disciples.

"What went ye out into the wilderness for to see?"-LUKE, vii, 24.

WHAT went ye out to see

O'er the rude sandy lee,

Where stately Jordan flows by many a palm,

Or where Gennesaret's wave

Delights the flowers to lave,

That o'er her western slope breathe airs of balm?

All through the summer night,

Those blossoms red and bright*

Spread their soft breasts, unheeding, to the breeze,
Like hermits watching still

Around the sacred hill,

Where erst our Saviour watched upon his knees.

The Paschal moon above

Seems like a saint to rove,

Left shining in the world with Christ alone:

* Rhododendrons: with which the western bank of the lake is said to be clothed

down to the water's edge.

MISSION OF JOHN'S DISCIPLES.

Below, the lake's still face

Sleeps sweetly in the embrace

Of mountains terraced high with mossy stone.

Here may we sit and dream

Over the heavenly theme,

Till to our soul the former days return;
Till on the grassy bed,*

Where thousands once He fed,
The world's incarnate Maker we discern.

O cross no more the main,
Wandering so wild and vain,

To count the reeds that tremble in the wind,
On listless dalliance bound,

Like children gazing round,

Who on God's works no seal of Godhead find:

Bask not in courtly bower,

Or sunbright hall of power,

Pass Babel quick, and seek the holy land;

From robes of Tyrian dye

Turn with undazzled eye

To Bethlehem's glade, or Carmel's haunted strand.

Or choose thee out a cell

In Kedron's storied dell,

Beside the springs of Love, that never die;

*"Now there was much grass in this place."-ST. JOHN vi. 10.

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MISSION OF JOHN'S DISCIPLES.

Among the olives kneel

The chill night-blast to feel,

And watch the moon that saw thy Master's agony.

*

Then rise at dawn of day,

And wind thy thoughtful way,

Where rested once the Temple's stately shade,

With due feet tracing round

The city's northern bound,

To th' other holy garden, where the Lord was laid.†

Who thus alternate see

His death and victory,

Rising and falling as on angel wings,

They, while they seem to roam,

Draw daily nearer home,

Their heart untravel'd still adores the King of kings.

Or, if at home they stay,
Yet are they, day by day,

In spirit journeying through the glorious land,

Not for light Fancy's reed,

Nor Honor's purple meed,

Nor gifted Prophet's lore, nor Science' wondrous wand.

*The passover, when our Saviour suffered, was always at the full moon.

It is worthy of notice, that gardens have been the scenes of the three most stupendous events that have occurred on earth-the temptation and fall of man, the agony of the Son of God, and his resurrection from the grave.

MISSION OF JOHN'S DISCIPLES.

But more than Prophet, more

Than Angels can adore.

With face unveil'd, is He they go to seek.

Blessed be God, whose grace

Shows him in every place

To homeliest hearts of pilgrims pure and meek.

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Mary Magdalen.

And He said to the woman, "Thy faith hath saved thee; go in peace.”— LUKE vii. 50.

THE plaining murmur of the midnight wind,
Like mournful music is upon the air:
So sad, so sweet, that the eyes fill'd with tears,
Without a cause-ah! no, the heart is heap'd
So full with perish'd pleasures, vain regrets,
That nature can not sound one grieving note
Upon her forest lyre, but still it finds

Mute echo in the sorrowing human heart.
Now the wind wails among the yellow leaves,

About to fall, over the faded flowers,
Over all summer's lovely memories,

About to die; the year has yet in store

A few dim hours, but they are dark and cold ;
Sunshine, green leaves, glad flowers, they all are gone;

And it has only left the worn-out soil,

The leafless bough, and the o'er-clouded sky.

And shall humanity not sympathize

With desolation like its own?

So do our early dreams fade unfulfill'd;

So does our hope turn into memory—
The one so glad the other such despair,

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