Page:Poems Toke.djvu/46

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38

Yet, ah! 'tis true!—the deed is done!
Betrayed by all most loved below,
The Lord of Life is left alone,
To drain the last sad cup of woe.

And thou—the first to own thy Lord,
To boast thy love of all the best,—
Hast now but deeper plunged the sword
That pierces through His bleeding breast,

And yet thy tears of anguish flow,
Thy soul seems wrung with grief untold;
Oh! what could wake that tide of woe,
Or melt a heart so dead and cold?

Did Heaven's fierce thunders burst thy trance.
Or fear thy guilty bosom move?
AN, no! 'twas one mild, sorrowing glance,
One look of wronged but changeless love.

No storm can bid the torrent flow,
When bound in Winter's icy chain;
But let the sunbeam smile, and lo!
The waters leap to life again!

And thus the bolt of wrath might bow,
But could not melt' thy frozen heart;
Yet, touched by Mercy's kindly glow,
How soon the gushing waters start!

Then weep thou on, but let thy tears
Be those of soft, repenting love;
And let this hour, through future years,
A beacon-star of warning prove.