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TRUTH AND ERROR.
Every plant, which my heavenly Father hath not planted, shall be rooted up."-Matthew xv. 13.
SWIFT the tempest strips the wood,
Error, like the flimsy sail
Even the little garden flower,
Nought endures but thou, O Lord;
Thou, the first, the midst, the end;
"It is good for us to be here."-Matthew xvii. 4.
[The following lines were written in a church-yard, by Herbert Knowles, when he was about fifteen years old.]
METHINKS it is good to be here,
If thou wilt, let us build- but for whom?
But the shadows of eve that encompass with gloom,
Shall we build to Ambition? Ah! no, Affrighted he shrinketh away;
For see! they would pin him below
To a small narrow cave, and begirt with cold clay, To the meanest of reptiles a peer and a prey.
To Beauty? Ah! no: she forgets The charms which she wielded before : Nor knows the foul worm that he frets
The skin which, but yesterday, fools could adore, For the smoothness it held, or the tint which it
Shall we build to the purple of Pride, The trappings which dizen the proud? Alas! they are all laid aside,
And here's neither dress nor adornment allow'd, But the long winding sheet, and the fringe of the shroud.
To Riches! Alas! 'tis in vain,
Who hid in their turns have been hid:
The treasures are squander'd again;
And here in the grave are all metals forbid, But the tinsel that shone on the dark coffin lid.
To the pleasures which Mirth can afford, The revel, the laugh, and the jeer?
Ah! here is a plentiful board,
But the guests are all mute as their pitiful cheer, And none but the worm is a reveller here.
Shall we build to Affection and Love? Ah! no; they have wither'd and died, Or fled with the spirit above,Friends, brothers and sisters are laid side by side, Yet none have saluted, and none have replied.
Unto Sorrow? The dead cannot grieve,
Not a sob, not a sigh meets mine ear
Which compassion itself could relieve; Ah! sweetly they slumber, nor hope, love or fear; Peace, peace, is the watchword, the only one here.
Unto Death, to whom monarchs must bow? Ah! no; for his empire is known,
And here there are trophies enow; Beneath the cold dead, and around the dark stone, Are the signs of a sceptre that none may disown.
The first tabernacle to Hope we will build, And look for the sleepers around us to rise; The second to Faith, which ensures it fulfill'd;
And the third to the Lamb of the great sacrifice, Who bequeathed us them both when he rose to the skies.
"Men ought always to pray."-Luke xviii. 1.
To prayer, to prayer; -for the morning breaks,
The light of gladness, and life, and love.
To prayer; -for the day that God has blessed
It speaks of the Prince who burst the tomb.
There are smiles and tears in the mother's eyes, For her new-born infant beside her lies.