THE TIMBER. 1 Sure thou didst flourish once! and many springs,

Many bright mornings, much dew, many showers Passed o’er thy head; many light hearts and wings,

Which now are dead, lodged in thy living bowers.

vers

2 And still a new succession sings and flies;

Fresh groves grow up, and their green branches Towards the old and still-enduring skies, [shoot

While the low violet thrives at their root.

3 But thou, beneath the sad and heavy line

Of death, doth waste all senseless, cold, and dark; Where not so much as dreams of light may shine,

Nor any thought of greenness, leaf, or bark.

4 And yet, as if some deep hate and dissent,

Bred in thy growth betwixt high winds and thee, Were still alive, thou dost great storms resent,

Before they come, and know'st how near they be.

5 Else all at rest thou liest, and the fierce breath

Of tempests can no more disturb thy ease; But this thy strange resentment after death

Means only those who broke in life thy peace. 6 So murdered man, when lovely life is done,

And his blood freezed, keeps in the centre still Some secret sense, which makes the dead blood run

At his approach that did the body kill.

7 And is there any murderer worse than sin?

Or any storms more foul than a lewd life? Or what resentient can work more within · Than true remorse, when with past sins at strife?

8 He that hath left life's vain joys and vain care,

And truly hates to be detained on earth,
Hath got an house where many mansions are,

And keeps his soul unto eternal mirth.

9 But though thus dead unto the world, and ceased

From sin, he walks a narrow, private way;
Yet grief and old wounds make him sore displeased,

And all his life a rainy, weeping day.

10 For though he should forsake the world, and live

As mere a stranger as men long since dead;
Yet joy itself will make a right soul grieve

To think he should be so long vainly led.

11 But as shades set off light, so tears and grief,

Though of themselves but a sad blubbered story, By showing the sin great, show the relief

Far greater, and so speak my Saviour's glory.

12 If my way lies through deserts and wild woods,

Where all the land with scorching heat is cursed; Better the pools should flow with rain and floods

To fill my bottle, than I die with thirst.

13 Blest showers they are, and streams sent from above;

Begetting virgins where they use to flow;
The trees of life no other waters love,

Than upper springs, and none else make them grov:.

14 But these chaste fountains flow not till we die.

Some drops may fall before; but a clear spring

And ever running, till we leave to fling
Dirt in her way, will keep above the sky.

He that is dead is freed from sin.'— Rom. vi. 7.

THE JEWS.
When the fair year

Of your Deliverer comes,
And that long frost which now benumbs
Your hearts shall thaw; when angels here

Shall yet to man appear,
And familiarly confer
Beneath the oak and juniper;

When the bright Dove,
Which now these many, many springs

Hath kept above,

Shall with spread wings
Descend, and living waters flow
To make dry dust, and dead trees grow;

Oh, then, that I
Might live, and see the olive bear
Her proper branches ! which now lie

Scattered each where;
And, without root and sap, decay;
Cast by the husbandman away.

And sure it is not far!
For as your fast and foul decays,
Forerunning the bright morning star,
Did sadly note his healing rays
Would shine elsewhere, since you were blind,
And would be cross, when God was kind,-

So by all signs
Our fulness too is now come in;
And the same sun, which here declines
And sets, will few hours hence begin
To rise on you again, and look

Towards old Mamre and Eshcol's brook.

For surely he
Who loved the world so as to give
His only Son to make it free,
Whose Spirit too doth mourn and grieve
To see man lost, will for old love
From your dark hearts this veil remove.

4 Faith sojourned first on earth in you,

You were the dear and chosen stock: The arm of God glorious and true,

Was first revealed to be your rock.

5 You were the eldest child, and when

Your stony hearts despised love,
The youngest, even the Gentiles, then,

Were cheered your jealousy to move.

6 Thus, righteous Father! dost thou deal

With brutish men; thy gifts go round By turns, and timely, and so heal

The lost son by the newly found.

PALM=SUNDAY. i Come, drop your branches, strew the way,

Plants of the day! Whom sufferings make most green and gay. The King of grief, the Man of sorrow, Weeping still like the wet morrow, Your shades and freshness comes to borrow,

2 Put on, put on your best array;

Let the joyed road make holyday,
And flowers, that into fields do stray,
Or sccret groves, keep the highway.

3 Trees, flowers, and herbs; birds, beasts, and

stones,
That since man fell expect with groans
To see the Lamb, come all at once,
Lift up your heads and leave your moans;

For here comes he

Whose death will be Man's life, and your full liberty.

4 Hark! how the children shrill and high

Hosanna' cry;
Their joys provoke the distant sky,
Where thrones and seraphim reply;
And their own angels shine and sing,

In a bright ring:
Such young, sweet mirth

Makes heaven and earth
Join in a joyful symphony.

5 The barmless, young, and happy ass,

(Seen long before this came to pass,) Is in these joys a high partaker, Ordained and made to bear his Maker.

6 Dear Feast of Palms, of flowers and dew!

Whose fruitful dawn sheds hopes and lights; Thy bright solemnities did shew

The third glad day through two sad nights.

i

I'li get me up before the sun,

I'll cut me boughs off many a tree,
And all alone full early run
To gather flowers to welcome thee.