D1

FOR A SERVANT.

ISCOURAGE not thyself, my soul,

Nor murmur, though compell'd we be To live subjected to control,

When many others may be free;
For though the pride of some disdains.
Our means and much despised lot,
We shall not lose our honeft pains,
Nor fhall our suffrance be forgot.

To be a servant is not base,

If basenefs be not in the mind,
For servants make but good the place,
Whereto their Maker them affign'd:
The greatest princes do no more,
And if fincerely I obey,

Though I am now despised and poor,
I shall become as great as they.

The Lord of heav'n and earth was pleased

A servant's form to undertake ; '

By His endurance I am eased,

And serve with gladness for His sake:

Though check'd unjustly I should be,

With filence I reproofs will bear,

For much more injured was He
Whose deeds most worthy praises were.

He was reviled, yet naught replied,
And I will imitate the same;

For though some faults may be denied,
In part I always faulty am:
Content with meek and humble heart,
I will abide in my degree,

And act an humble servant's part,

Till God fhall call me to be free.

George Wither.

WHEN

SCORN NOT THE LEAST.

HEN words are weak and foes encount'ring strong,

Where mightier do affault than do defend,

The feebler part puts up enforcéd wrong,

And filent sees that speech could not amend.

Yet higher powers most think though they repine, — When sun is set, the little ftars will fhine.

While pike doth range, the filly tench doth fly,
And crouch in privy creeks with smaller fish;
Yet pikes are caught when little fish go by;
These fleet afloat while those do fill the dish.

There is a time even for the worms to creep,
And suck the dew while all their foes do fleep.

The merlin cannot ever soar on high,

Nor greedy greyhound still pursue the chase;
The tender lark will find a time to fly,
And fearful hare to run a quiet race.
He that high-growth on cedars did beftow,
Gave also lowly mushrooms leave to grow.

In Haman's pomp poor Mardocheus wept,
Yet God did turn his fate upon his foe;
The Lazar pined while Dives' feaft was kept,
Yet he to heaven, to hell did Dives go.
We trample grafs, and prize the flowers of May,
Yet grafs is green when flowers do fade away.

Robert Southwell.

SAY

RESIGNATION.

NAY, Reader! canft thou bear and not complain,
Grief's filent languor, or the hour of pain;

One small fick-room, with noiselefs footstep tread,
And raise in peaceful hope the aching head;
Smile at the joy it is not thine to share,
And make another's pleasure soothe thy care?
Canft thou, while they beguile the weary hours
With Nature's charm of sunfhine, air, and flowers,
Refigned, ftill quaff thy daily draught, nor mourn
O'er days long past, that never can return?
Say, canft thou look, with calm and tearless eyes,
On thy imprisoned days, and nights of fighs?
Nor of each friend who calls, implore the fkill,
And watch the glance that dooms thee well or ill?
Hold out the feverish hand, nor ftart to see
A face that changes on beholding thee?
Firm in thy God, and in thy heavenly truft,
Canft thou remember fearless thou art duft?
Look to the future, glad and undismayed,
And, smiling, see thy life recede in shade?
Then, Reader, go- the world to thee can bring
In trials, woes, temptations, not one fting.

ALL'S WELL.

SWEFT need half life's good to me

WEET-voiced Hope, thy fine discourse

Thy painter, Fancy, hath not force
To fhow how sweet it is to Be!
Thy witching dream

And pictured scheme

To match the fact ftill want the power;
Thy promise brave

From birth to grave

Life's boon may beggar in an hour.

Ask and receive, 't is sweetly said;

Yet what to plead for know I not; For Wish is worsted, Hope o'ersped, And aye to thanks returns my thought. If I would pray,

I've nought to say

But this, that God may be God still;
For Him to live

Is ftill to give,

And sweeter than my wifh His will.

Oh wealth of life, beyond all bound!
Eternity each moment given !