Christian Melville

BY THE AUTHOR OF “MATTHEW PAXTON.”
“There he stands in the foul weather, The foolish, fond Old Year, Crown’d with wild flowers and with heather, Like weak, despised Lear, A King—a King!”—Longfellow.
LONDON: GEORGE ROUTLEDGE AND SONS, BROADWAY, LUDGATE. NEW YORK: 416, BROOME STREET. 1873.




’Tis beautiful to see the holy might Of a strong spirit, dedicate to God, ’Tis beautiful to mark the uplifted light, In vigorous hands pointing the heavenward road, Continuing steadfast in the noble strife, Through the world’s dimness shining strong and free; But fairer still, ’mid quiet household life, A calm sad chastened spirit praising Thee! Thee! oh, our Father! from whose hands its thread Of fate hath run in darkness. Grief’s wide veil Mantling its youthful days—and o’er its head, The weeping cloud of fear, while yet its pale And gentle face is radiant with the faith, That clings although thou smite, nor quits its hold with Death.