There is the throne of David; And there, from care released, The shout of them that triumph, The song of them that feast; And they, who with their Leader Have conquered in the fight, For ever and for ever Are clad in robes of white. O sweet and blessed country, The home of GOD'S elect; O sweet and blessed country That eager hearts expect; JESU, in mercy bring us To that dear land of rest; Who art, with GOD the FATHER And SPIRIT, ever Blest. --_Bernard._ When our heads are bowed with woe, When our bitter tears o'erflow, When we mourn the lost, the dear, Gracious Son of Mary, hear! Thou our throbbing flesh hast worn, Thou our mortal griefs hast borne, Thou hast shed the human tear: Gracious Son of Mary, hear! When the solemn death-bell tolls For our own departing souls, When our final doom is near, Gracious Son of Mary, hear! Thou hast bowed the dying head, Thou the blood of life hast shed, Thou hast filled a mortal bier: Gracious Son of Mary, hear! When the heart is sad within With the thought of all its sin, When the spirit shrinks with fear, Gracious Son of Mary, hear! Thou, the same, the grief hast known; Though the sins were not Thine own, Thou hast deigned their load to bear: Gracious Son of Mary, hear! --_Heber._ O soul, soul, thou art passing, Just now, the border lands: Soul, soul, thy God is calling Thee, from the border lands. Soul, soul, what wilt thou answer, When thou shalt stand alone, Before thy God and Saviour, 'Midst th' glories of the throne? How hast thou passed the border? What course pursued below? Of all I gave thee, warder, Hast conquered every foe? Soul, soul, hear Jesus calling! He waits for thee above, Oh! answer now, responding In faith, and hope, and love. --_Henry C. Graves._ THE LOOK. The Saviour looked on Peter. Aye, no word-- No gesture of reproach! The heavens serene Though heavy with armed justice, did not lean Their thunders that way. The forsaken Lord _Looked_ only, on the traitor. None record What that look was; none guess: for those who have seen Wronged lovers loving through a death-pang keen, Or pale-cheeked martyrs smiling to a sword, Have missed Jehovah at the judgment call, And Peter, from the height of blasphemy-- 'I never knew this man' did quail and fall, As knowing straight THAT GOD,--and turned free And went out speechless from the face of all, And filled the silence, weeping bitterly. --_Elizabeth Barrett Browning._ THE MEANING OF THE LOOK.