ed by those words,
What tender compassion, what fatherly care.

Three times at this meeting the question was asked,
"Simon, son of Jonas, lovest thou me?"
And though grieved, yet how truly could Peter reply,
"Lord thou knowest all things, thou know'st I love thee."

Thrice this same Peter his Lord had denied,
And had he not reason reproaches to fear?
Oh, no! for his Saviour had all this forgiven,
He saw his repentance, he knew it sincere.

That disciple soon followed his Lord whom he loved,
And many long ages have since passed away;
But the parting command still remains in full force,
And will ever remain so till time's latest day.

Many wolves in sheep's clothing are still to be found,
Whom Satan fails not to instruct and employ;
They enter the fold, and with most specious wiles,
Seek the young of the flock to ensnare and destroy.

And shall we dare call ourselves followers of Christ,
And yet his known precepts presume to evade?
Ah! stop and reflect, what's the test that's required?
"If ye love me, keep my commandments," he said.

June 26, 1852.

"GOD IS LOVE."

Come blest Spirit from above,
Come and fill my heart with love;
Love to God, and love to man,
Love to do the good I can;
Love to high, and love to low,
Love to friend, and love to foe.
Love to rich, and love to poor,
Love to beggar at my door.
Love to young, and love to old,
Love to hardened heart and cold.
Love, true love, my heart within
For the sinner, _not the sin_;
Love to holy Sabbath day,
Love to meditate and pray,
Love for love, for _hatred_ even;
_Love like this, is born of Heaven_.

TO MY FRIEND MRS. LLOYD

My very dear friend
Should never depend
Upon anything clever or witty,
From a poor country wight
When attempting to write,
To one in your far famous city.
Indeed I'm inclined,
To fear that you'll find
These lines heavy, and quite out of joint;
And now I declare,
It's no more than fair,
Should this prove a dull letter,
That you write me a better;
And something that's quite to the point.
This having premised
As at present advised,
I'll indulge in the thoughts that incline,
Not with curious eye
The dim future to spy,
But glance backward to "Auld Lang Syne."
If I recollect right,
It was a cold day quite,
And not far from night
When _the Boarding School famous_ I entered.
Now what could I do?
Scarce above my own shoe
Did I dare take a view,
Or to speak, or e'en move hardly ventured.
At this schoo