Go, to the world return, nor fear to cast
Thy bread upon the waters, sure at last b

In joy to find it after many days.

The work be thine, the fruit thy children's part: Choose to believe, not see : sight tempts the heart From sober walking in true Gospel ways.

b Eccles. xi. 1.

TENTH SUNDAY AFTER

TRINITY.

And when He was come near, He beheld the city, and wept over it. St. Luke xix. 41.

WHY doth my Saviour weep
At sight of Sion's bowers?

Shows it not fair from yonder steep,
Her gorgeous crown of towers?

Mark well his holy pains:

"Tis not in pride or scorn,

That Israel's King with sorrow stains

His own triumphal morn.

It is not that his soul

Is wandering sadly on,

In thought how soon in death's dark goal
Their course will all be run,

Who now are shouting round

Hosanna to their chief;

No thought like this in Him is found,
This were a Conqueror's grief c.

Or doth He feel the Cross

Already in his heart,

The pain, the shame, the scorn, the loss? Feel even his God depart?

No: though He knew full well

The grief that then shall beThe grief that angels cannot tellOur God in agony.

It is not thus He mourns ;

Such might be Martyr's tears, When his last lingering look he turns On human hopes and fears;

But hero ne'er or saint

The secret load might know,

With which his Spirit waxeth faint;
His is a Saviour's woe.

"If thou hadst known, even thou,

"At least in this thy day,

"The message of thy peace! but now ""Tis pass'd for aye away:

"Now foes shall trench thee round, "And lay thee even with earth, “And dash thy children to the ground, "Thy glory and thy mirth."

And doth the Saviour weep
Over his people's sin,

Because we will not let Him keep
The souls He died to win?

Ye hearts, that love the Lord,

If at this sight ye burn,

See that in thought, in deed, in word,
Ye hate what made Him mourn.

ELEVENTH SUNDAY AFTER

TRINITY.

Is it a time to receive money, and to receive garments, and olive yards, and vineyards, and sheep, and oxen, and meu servants, and maid servants! 2 Kings v. 26.

Is this a time to plant and build,
Add house to house, and field to field,
When round our walls the battle lowers,
When mines are hid beneath our towers,
And watchful foes are stealing round
To search and spoil the holy ground?

Is this a time for moonlight dreams
Of love and home by mazy streams,
For Fancy with her shadowy toys,
Aerial hopes and pensive joys,

While souls are wandering far and wide,
And curses swarm on every side?