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HESTER'S SHRINE.

I ILLUSTRATED REBUS.

THE GREAT HEART.

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THE GREAT HEART. When trumpets blare, and glitt'ring blades Toss back the morning light, What glory waits on wars and rails What majesty or might How weakly he who silent stands, While moves the cavalcade, Of Britain's braves to other lands, Through fire and blood to wade How weakly he who liath no cheer, But sorrow in his heart, When proudly forth, to do and dare, These fearless ones depart Call ye him weakly ? In his soul so great a love doth dwell. For suffering man, that Battle's goal, Mocks with the laugh of Hell The narrow borders of the land Where first God give him breath, No more set bounds to Pity's hand Than unto pain and death. Though there awile soft pity fade. His own must outward run For one small planet found in shade A thousand catch the Sun. Though Britain's braves or Britain's foes Do triumph in the fight, Dound all the dead His arms he throws, And weeps through Hatred's aight. He holds the deed up to the eyes, of victory and power, And, with the stricken's blended cries, Makes moan for mercy's hour. Where is the Christ of peace and love The boast of Empires great, Who to a vulture turn the dove, In ever watchful hate ? "Justice" and "Right" shriek from the flames, Of death—0, virtuous birth "Justice and "Right" are sounding names, To redden all the earth Where is the Christ ? 0, great of heart, His spirit is in thee, Whose universal love doth start To shape Eternity. Welcome to the in ev'ry clime Who, fee from faction's sway, In softness binds the wounds of time, And waits love's perfect day. D. RYLES GRIFFITHS.

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