For Mercy, Pity, Peace, and Love, For Mercy has a human heart; And Love, the human form divine Then every man, of every clime, And all must love the human form, In heathen, Turk, or Jew. Where Mercy, Love, and Pity dwell, There God is dwelling too. HOLY THURSDAY. 'TWAS on a holy Thursday, their innocent faces clean, The children walking two and two, in red, and blue, and green: Grey-headed beadles walked before, with wands as white as snow, Till into the high dome of Paul's they like Thames waters flow. O what a multitude they seemed, these flowers of London town! Seated in companies they sit, with radiance all their own. The hum of multitudes was there, but multitudes of lambs, Thousands of little boys and girls raising their innocent hands. Now like a mighty wind they raise to heaven the voice of song, Or like harmonious thunderings the seats of heaven among: Beneath them sit the aged men, wise guardians of the poor. Then cherish pity, lest you drive an angel from your door. NIGHT. THE sun descending in the West, The evening star does shine; The birds are silent in their nest, And I must seek for mine. The moon, like a flower In heaven's high bower, Sits and smiles on the night. Farewell, green fields and happy groves, Where flocks have took delight. Where lambs have nibbled, silent moves They look in every thoughtless nest They visit caves of every beast, To keep them all from harm: That should have been sleeping, When wolves and tigers howl for prey, But, if they rush dreadful, And there the lion's ruddy eyes Saying: 'Wrath by His meekness, And, by His health, sickness, Is driven away From our immortal day. 'And now beside thee, bleating lamb, I can lie down and sleep, Or think on Him who bore thy name, For, washed in life's river, T NURSE'S SONG. WHEN the voices of children are heard on the green, And laughing is heard on the hill, My heart is at rest within my breast, And everything else is still. 'Then come home, my children, the sun is gone down, And the dews of night arise; Come, come, leave off play, and let us away, Till the morning appears in the skies.' 'No, no, let us play, for it is yet day, And we cannot go to sleep; Besides, in the sky the little birds fly, And the hills are all covered with sheep.' 'Well, well, go and play till the light fades away, The little ones leaped, and shouted, and laughed, INFANT JOY. 'I HAVE no name; 'I happy am, |