Appeal for the Samaritan Asylum.

XLIV.

LYDIA H. SIGOURNEY.

OH! if to Afric's sable race

A fearful debt we justly owe,

If heaven's dread book record the trace Of every deed and thought below—

Who is thy Neighbor.

HANNAH F. GOULD.

Who is thy neighbor !-see him stand
With sunken cheek and eye,
Where hunger shows the empty hand
Thy bounty can supply!

Go where the widow'd mother pines
For what thou well canst spare-
Where palsied age in want reclines,
And see thy neighbor there!

Behold him in the stranger, cast

Upon a foreign shore,

Who, homeless in the cutting blast,

Is shivering at thy door!

*Founded by the Colored Bostonians, in 1833.

Appeal for the Smaritan Asylum.

And if for them the Christian prayer
Implores of God to guide and save,
Then let these helpless suppliants share
From mercy's store the mite they crave.

Go seek him 'mid the dungeon's gloom,

And carry comfort there;

And on the living in that tomb,

Call blessings down by prayer.

He's in thy enemy, who gave
The wounds that open still!
For him of Heaven forgiveness crave,
And pay him good for ill.

Look where the sable captive sighs,
For rights enjoyed by thee !
He is thy neighbor-loose his ties,
And set the bondman free.

Columbia, favored of the skies!
How can thy banner wave,
While at thy feet thy neighbor lies
A crushed and fettered slave?

There is a blot among thy stars—
A cord is in thy hand-
A stain upon thy face that mars
The beauty of our land!

Thou noble Tree of Liberty!
Should not thy verdure fade

O'er him who would his neighbor see

Excluded from thy shade ?

75

76

Appeal for the Samaritan Asylum.

Touch deep for them the pitying breast,
Bid bounty's stream flow warm and free;
For who can tell among the blest,

How sweet their harps of praise may be?

Did they who reared thee by their toil

Not will thy fruit to be

Alike, for all who tread our soil,

A harvest sweet and free?

Philanthropy, from every breast

Thy streams should ceaseless flow;

Our neighbor's in the weak, the opprest

And every child of wo!

Final Acceptance of the Righteous.

XLV.

BUTCHER.

FROM north and south, from east and west,
Advance the myriads of the blessed;
From every clime of earth they come,
And find in Heaven a common home.

In one immortal throng we view
Of every nation, every hue;

But all their doubts and darkness o'er,
One only God they now adore.

Howe'er divided here below,

One bliss, one spirit, now they know ;

Though some ne'er heard of Jesus' name, Yet God admits their honest claim.

On earth, according to their light,
They aimed to practice what was right ;
Hence all their errors are forgiven,
And Jesus welcomes them to heaven.

Blessed are they that Mourn.

XLVI.

BRYANT.

DEEM not that they are blessed alone,
Whose days a peaceful tenor keep;
The God who loves our race, has shown
A blessing for the eyes that weep.

The light of smiles shall fill again
The lids that overflow with tears,
And weary hours of wo and pain
Are earnests of serener years.

O there are days of sunny rest
For every dark and troubled night!
And grief may bide an evening guest,
But joy shall come with morning light.

And ye, who o'er a friend's low bier,
Now shed the bitter drops like rain,
Hope that a brighter, happier sphere,
Will give him to your arms again.

Nor let the good man's trust depart,
Though life its common gifts deny ;
Though with a pierced and broken heart,
Enslaved of men he sinks to die.