The glory of God has enlightened their eyes:
No longer, through darkness, they see but in part,
And the robes of your righteousness do not suffice
To cover the lack of true love in the heart.
You look shabby, and filthy, and ragged, and mean—
E’en with those you condemn, you but poorly compare!
Go! wash you in Charity till you are clean;
You will change for the better, dear Mistress Glenare.
Your thoughts have been run in the popular mould,
Like wax that is plastic and easily melts;
Till now, like a nondescript, lo, and behold!
You are neither yourself, nor yet any one else.
Of tender compassion, forgiveness, and love,
Your nature has not a respectable share;
You are three parts of serpent, and one of the dove—
Very badly proportioned, dear Mistress Glenare.
Your noblest and purest affections have died,
Like summer-dried roses, your spirit within;
Your heart has grown arid, and scarce is supplied
With sufficient vitality even to sin.
But would you be true to your virtuous name,
There is one we commend to your tenderest care;
To deal with her wisely will add to your fame:
That poor sinful woman is—Mistress Glenare.
LITTLE JOHNNY.
[A poem delivered by Miss Lizzie Doten at the close of a lecture in Springfield, May 10, and addressed to the parents of Little Johnny—Mr. and Mrs. Thomas A. Denison, of Chicopee, Mass.]
Sing not, O blessed angels!
To those who truly mourn,
But come with gifts of healing,
For heart-strings freshly torn.
Ah! human hearts are tender,
And wounds of love are deep:
Sing not, O blessed angels!
But “weep with those who weep.”
Come not, O spirit-teachers!
With wisdom from above,
But come with soft, low whispers
Of sympathy and love.
Truths seem uncertain shadows
Beneath the clouds of care;
Come, then, in friendly silence,
And strengthen them to bear.
What will ye bring, O angels,
To soothe the troubled breast?
“We will bring the cherished loved one
From the mansions of the blest.
Like a wandering dove returning,
He shall nestle in each heart;
They will feel his blesséd presence,
And their sorrow shall depart.
“We will lead them from their darkness
Out to the shining light,
And scenes of heavenly beauty
Shall greet their longing sight.
There shall they see their loved one,
Free from his earthly pain;
Their souls shall cease from sorrow,
And shall ask him not again.
“O, we only opened gently
His little prison door;
He stepped into the sunshine,
And then returned no more.
He dwells not now in weakness,
In the spirit’s narrow cell,
But yet remains forever
To those who loved him well.”