But still those tender feelings gather'd force

The more repell'd and check'd, for their sweet source Was deeply laid :-now in each brother's face,

He watchful strove some lineament to trace

Of that cold cruelty, he noted, when

·

They sold him to the Ishmaelitish men:
But vain the search ;-no harshness he could spy
In the mute language of each suppliant eye.-
Those dear, familiar features, only wore
The softness time-touch'd that in youth they bore :-
No anger burnt in those bent forms of grief,-
Those asking looks-that seem'd to claim relief :-
O Egypt's lord! if thou would'st still repress
The kindling glow of memory's tenderness ;-
If thou would'st strive that household link to sever,
Forg'd under home's first roof, and broken never ;-
If thou would'st keep thy lofty brow of pride,
Why hast thou turn'd thy looks by Judah's side,
Where stands a youthful form, whose beardless face
Bears thine own mother's heart-remember'd grace,

With dove-like eyes bent earnestly on thee,

In all a suppliant's meek humility;

Yet with such mystic meaning deeply fraught,
As if the secret of his kindred wrought

Within his guileless soul;—and he but strove
To quell the thought that claim'd a brother's love?--
O Egypt's lord! he is thy mother's son!
Thy father's best belov'd, since thou art gone!
Now, where is all thy haughty bearing fled?
Why, on thy heaving bosom, sinks thy head?
Nature and virtue, triumph :—to the breast
Of that young stripling, Egypt's lord is prest ;-
Whilst passionate tears, and broken accents tell
The sweet emotions that his heart o'erswell :-
"The bitter past is gone-it was God's will-
I am your own-my father's Joseph-still."

Yet scarce his choking words had power to claim
Each wondering stranger, by a Brother's name.

Oh

ye

who fill the world with rage and strife! Darkening with clouds the loveliness of life ;Who cherish of your fellows thoughts unkind, With all the harshness of an evil mind ;—

And for some trifle, scantly worth a care,

Shame not an angry brow and heart to wear ;

Ask, if those ills, that rankle in

your breast,

Marring your peace and poisoning your rest,
Sink not as bubbles by the ocean's wave,

Compared with those that Israel's son forgave ?-
Your brothers, or your friends, have they e'er done
As Joseph's brethren to their father's son ?
Have they e'er sought your liberty or blood?

Have they beheld your tears in stubborn mood?
Have they e'er mock'd your sufferings, when ye pray'd
To them for sympathy, or sued for aid?

Ah no-or if by human frailty stirr'd

They thus in some unguarded hour have err'd,
Short, as the Patriarch's, let your anger live,

And learn, from his example,-to forgive.

EARLY PIETY.

Remember, now, thy Creator, in the days of thy youth.

Eccl. xii. 1.

O REMEMBER thy God! in the days of thy youth,
O think of thy Maker! his mercy and power;
In season give ear to the precepts of truth,

Ere the evil days come, and the sorrowful hour.

O remember thy Maker, whilst yet it is given

To taste the rich blessings of life and of light ;While thine eyes may behold the bright sun in the heaven,

And the moon and the stars are not hid from thy

sight.

Ere trembling and terror have come on thy breast,

Ere sickness and sorrow have clouded thine eye, Ere the voice of bewailing hath broken thy rest,

Or thy bosom's sweet music been chang'd to a sigh.

Ere thy soul hath been sadden'd by funeral knell,
Ere sever'd the link of the silvery chain,
Ere the pitcher o'erthrown at the fount or the well,
Or the wheel at the cistern been snapped in twain.

O remember the Lord! ere thy soul shall meet
Its Redeemer and God, on his judgment seat!

D

THE SECRETS OF THE HEART.

The heart knoweth its own bitterness, and a stranger doth not

intermeddle with its joy.—Proverbs xiv. 10.

How oft when joy, with beamy smile,
Life's portion'd cup doth seem to bless,
Our weeping hearts discern the while

And mourn its draught of bitterness.

How oft unscann'd by human eye,
In secret flows the silent tear;

How oft is breath'd the bosom's sigh,
Which never reaches mortal ear.

Wealth, fame are ours;-the envying world
That sees us prosperous, deems us blest ;-
Yet, all unmark'd the while, is hurl'd

The shaft that cleaves the aching breast.