MATRIMONY.

THERE is an awe in mortals' joy,
A deep mysterious fear
Half of the heart will still employ,
As if we drew too near

To Eden's portal, and those fires
That bicker round in wavy spires,
Forbidding, to our frail desires,

What cost us once so dear.

We cower before th' heart-searching eye

In rapture as in pain ;

Even wedded Love, till Thou be nigh,
Dares not believe her gain:

Then in the air she fearless springs,

The breath of Heaven beneath her wings, And leaves her woodnote wild, and sings A tun'd and measur'd strain.

Ill fare the lay, though soft as dew

And free as air it fall,

That with thine altar full in view,

Thy votaries would enthrall

To a foul dream, of heathen night,
Lifting her torch in Love's despite,
And scaring with base wildfire light
The sacred nuptial hall.

Far other strains, far other fires,
Our marriage offering grace;
Welcome, all chaste and kind desires,
With even matron pace

Approaching down the hallow'd aisle !

Where should ye seek Love's perfect smile, But where your prayers were learn'd erewhile, In her own native place?

Where, but on His benignest brow,

Who waits to bless you here?
Living, He own'd no nuptial vow,

No bower to Fancy dear:
Love's very self-for Him no need
To nurse, on earth, the heavenly seed:

Yet comfort in His eye we read
For bridal joy and fear.

'Tis He who clasps the marriage band,
And fits the spousal ring,

Then leaves ye kneeling, hand in hand,
Out of His stores to bring

His Father's dearest blessing, shed

Of old on Isaac's nuptial bed,

Now on the board before ye spread
Of our all-bounteous King.

All blessings of the breast and womb,
Of heaven and earth beneath,

Of converse high, and sacred home,
Are yours, in life and death.

Only kneel on, nor turn away

From the pure shrine, where Christ to-day Will store each flower, ye duteous lay,

For an eternal wreath.

VISITATION AND COMMUNION

OF THE SICK.

O YOUTH and Joy, your airy tread
Too lightly springs by Sorrow's bed,
Your keen eyeglances are too bright,
Too restless for a sick man's sight.

Farewell for one short life we part:

:

I rather woo the soothing art,

Which only souls in sufferings tried
Bear to their suffering brethren's side.

Where may we learn that gentle spell?
Mother of Martyrs, thou canst tell!
Thou who didst watch thy dying Spouse
With pierced hands and bleeding brows,
Whose tears from age to age are shed
O'er sainted sons untimely dead,
If e'er we charm a soul in pain,
Thine is the key-note of our strain.

How sweet with thee to lift the latch,
Where Faith has kept her midnight watch,
Smiling on woe: with thee to kneel,
Where fix'd, as if one prayer could heal,
She listens, till her pale eye glow

With joy, wild health can never know,
And each calm feature, ere we read,
Speaks, silently, thy glorious Creed.

Such have I seen and while they pour'd
Their hearts in every contrite word,
How have I rather long'd to kneel
And ask of them sweet pardon's seal!
How bless'd the heavenly music brought
By thee to aid my faltering thought!
"Peace" ere we kneel, and when we cease
To pray, the farewell word is, "Peace."

I came again: the place was bright
"With something of celestial light”—
A simple altar by the bed.

For high Communion meetly spread,
Chalice, and plate, and snowy vest.-
We ate and drank: then calmly blest,

A a