WILLIAM WORDSWORTH.

* * * * *

SELF-INQUIRY.

  Let not soft slumber close my eyes,
  Before I’ve recollected thrice
  The train of action through the day! 
  Where have my feet chose out their way? 
  What have I learnt, where’er I’ve been,
  From all I have heard, from all I’ve seen? 
  What know I more that’s worth the knowing? 
  What have I done that’s worth the doing? 
  What have I sought that I should shun? 
  What duty have I left undone? 
  Or into what new follies run? 
    These self-inquiries are the road
    That leads to virtue and to God.

ISAAC WATTS.

* * * * *

THE THREE ENEMIES.

THE FLESH.

“Sweet, thou art pale.” 
“More pale to see,
Christ hung upon the cruel tree
And bore his Father’s wrath for me.”

“Sweet, thou art sad.” 
“Beneath a rod
More heavy Christ for my sake trod
The wine-press of the wrath of God.”

“Sweet, thou art weary.” 
“Not so Christ: 
Whose mighty love of me sufficed
For strength, salvation, eucharist.”

“Sweet, thou art footsore.” 
“If I bleed,
His feet have bled:  yea, in my need
His heart once bled for mine indeed.”

THE WORLD.

“Sweet, thou art young.” 
“So he was young
Who for my sake in silence hung
Upon the cross with passion wrung.”

“Look, thou art fair.” 
“He was more fair
Than men, who deigned for me to wear
A visage marred beyond compare.”

“And thou hast riches.” 
“Daily bread: 
All else is his; who living, dead,
For me lacked where to lay his head.”

“And life is sweet.” 
“It was not so
To him, whose cup did overflow
With mine unutterable woe.”

THE DEVIL.

“Thou drinkest deep.” 
“When Christ would sup
He drained the dregs from out my cup;
So how should I be lifted up?”

“Thou shalt win glory.” 
“In the skies,
Lord Jesus, cover up mine eyes. 
Lest they should look on vanities.”

“Thou shalt have knowledge.” 
“Helpless dust,
In thee, O Lord, I put my trust: 
Answer thou for me, Wise and Just.”

CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI.

* * * * *

SAID I NOT SO?

  Said I not so,—­that I would sin no more? 
    Witness, my God, I did;
  Yet I am run again upon the score: 
    My faults cannot be hid.

  What shall I do?—­make vows and break them still? 
    ’Twill be but labor lost;
  My good cannot prevail against mine ill: 
    The business will be crost.

  O, say not so; thou canst not tell what strength
    Thy God may give thee at the length. 
  Renew thy vows, and if thou keep the last,
    Thy God will pardon all that’s past. 
  Vow while thou canst; while thou canst vow, thou may’st
    Perhaps perform it when thou thinkest least.