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THE RESOURCE OF THE SENSITIVE.
ART thou a spirit of a gentle mould?
TRUST IN A RISEN SAVIOUR.
"Be careful for nothing."-PHIL. iv 6.
As on I pass along the crowded way
Illumined thus, my risen Lord, I trust
In Thee to raise what Thou hast died to save, In new-born power and glory from the dust,
To which ere long 'twill moulder in the grave.
And shall I doubt thy goodness to provide
*The above lines were suggested by the following passage in the writings of Bishop Hall: "I will rely on Him for small matters of this life for how shall I hope to trust him in [seeming] impossibilities, if I may not in likelihoods? How shall I depend on Him for raising my body from dust, and saving my soul, if I mistrust him for a crust of bread, towards my preservation?"
For similar assistance in one or two other of the pieces which form this volume, the author is also indebted to prose divines.
"As a bird that wandereth from her nest, so is a man that wandereth from his place."-PROV. xxvii. 8.
THROUGH all the world, so varied, and so vast,
Never, oh, never, while the truth remains
The bird that idly wanders from her nest,-
While, chill and dying in their leafy screen,
And when the second nest is built, and warm With tender life that should endear her home, Where is the tie of nature, or the charm,
To bind her now? Why should she cease to roam? She will not cease, till restless heart and wing Shall both alike be cold mid withered leaves of
"Tis not in place to give the heart repose :
The bird that wanders from the mountain pine
Would quit alike the woodbine and the rose,