Only kind Marien wept such tears, As the dear Saviour shed, When in the house of Bethany He mourned for Lazarus dead. PART XI. Now from the miser kinsman’s house Came many a jovial sound; And lavish heirs had spent his gold, Ere twelve months had gone round. That while within the busy town Dwelt Marien; and each day, In some good deed of Christian love And mercy, passed away. For many an abject dweller there, Grief-bowed and labour-spent, Groaned forth, amid his little ones, To heaven his sad lament; And unto such, to raise, to cheer, The sent of God, she went. But she who, even as they, was poor, Failed not of daily bread; A stranger, many took her in, And warmed, and clothed, and fed. And when a sickness sore befel, And nigh to death she lay, Kind hearts there were who came to her, And watched her night and day. And afterwards, when evil men Doomed her in bonds to lie, Many a true, noble friend arose, Willing for her to die. Oh, blessed Christian hearts, who thus Unto this little one Did deeds of love; for as to Christ These righteous works were done! And they who blessed her, for themselves A tenfold blessing won! Thus dwelt sweet Marien in the town For many a passing year; Yet of the poor, lost prodigal. No tidings could she hear. She found him not; but yet she found Others who, even as he, Had gone astray and pined forlorn In hopeless misery. To these repentant, outcast ones, She spake kind words of grace, And led them back, with yearning hearts To seek the father’s face; To find forgiveness in His heart, And love in His embrace. Oh blessed, blessed Marien! --But let us now recall Whate’er had happed of change and woe Unto the prodigal. He saw his little sister pine; He saw her silent woe; He saw her strength decline, yet still Her weary labour grow. As this he saw, yet more and more He hated that hard man, With whom their cheerless misery, Their daily tasks began. And even to true Marien, He bare an altered mind;-- Alas, that injuries should make Else loving hearts unkind! But so it is! and when the twain To cheer his spirit strove, His wrath arose, and he repelled Their patient deeds of love. Then evil men assailed his youth; And he who was so frail In suffering, ’gainst the tempter’s might Was feeble to prevail. He was their easy prey; their tool; And bravely clothed and fed, In desperate scenes, ’mid desperate men, A lawless life he led. Yet often to his soul came back Sweet memory of the time, When he, a happy, thoughtless child, Had knowledge of no crime.