CHRISTIAN MELVILLE. EPOCH III.

There’s joy and mourning wondrously entwined In all that’s mortal: sometimes the same breeze That bringeth rest into one weary mind Heralds another’s sorer agonies; Sometimes the hour that sees one battle end Beholds as sad a time of strife begin; And sometimes, hearts rejoicing as they win Themselves the victory, tremble for a friend. Ah me! how vain to think that mortal ken Can ever, with love-cleared vision, judge aright. Doth danger dwell alone ’mong stranger men, Or safety aye ’neath home’s protecting light? Shield us, our Father! in our every lot Thou blendest joy and grief that we forget thee not.