Thou has taught me, Silent River! Many a lesson, deep and long; Thou hast been a generous giver ; I can give thee but a song.

Oft in sadness and in illness,

I have watched thy current glide, Till the beauty of its stillness Overflowed me, like a tide.

And in better hours and brighter,
When I saw thy waters gleam,

I have felt my heart beat lighter,
And leap onward with thy stream.

Not for this alone I love thee,

Nor because, thy waves of blue

From celestial seas above thee

Take their own celestial hue.

Where yon shadowy woodlands hide thee,

And thy waters disappear,

Friends I love have dwelt beside thee,

And have made thy margin dear.

Of three friends, all true and tried ;

And that name, like magic, binds me

Closer, closer to thy side.

Friends my soul with joy remembers !
How like quivering flames they start,
When I fan the living embers

On the hearth-stone of my heart!

'T is for this, thou Silent River! That my spirit leans to thee; Thou hast been a generous giver,

Take this idle song from me.

118

BLIND BARTIMEUS.

BLIND Bartimeus at the gates

Of Jericho in darkness waits;

He hears the crowd;- he hears a breath

Say, "It is Christ of Nazareth !”

And calls, in tones of agony,

̓Ιησοῦ, ἐλέησόν με!

The thronging multitudes increase;
Blind Bartimeus, hold thy peace!

But still, above the noisy crowd,
The beggar's cry is shrill and loud;

Until they say,

"He calleth thee!"

Θάρσει, ἔγειραι, φωνεῖ σε!

Then saith the Christ, as silent stands

The crowd, "What wilt thou at my hands?" And he replies, “O give me light!

Rabbi, restore the blind man's sight!"

And Jesus answers, "Tлaуɛ•

Η πίστις σου σέσωκέ σε !

Ye that have eyes, yet cannot see,

In darkness and in misery,

Recall those mighty Voices Three,

̓Ιησοῦ, ἐλέησόν με !

Θάρσει, ἔγειραι, ὕπαγε!

Η πίστις σου σέσωκέ σε !

120

THE GOBLET OF LIFE.

FILLED is Life's goblet to the brim ;
And though my eyes with tears are dim,
I see its sparkling bubbles swim,
And chaunt a melancholy hymn

With solemn voice and slow.

No purple flowers, no garlands green,
Conceal the goblet's shade or sheen,
Nor maddening draughts of Hippocrene,
Like gleams of sunshine, flash between
Thick leaves of misletoe.