POETRY.
SAMUEL RABBETH.
[" Greater love bath no man than this,"] It was an offering rare that thou didst yield
To this poor world and Him who died for thee. Few nobler deeds of service have been wrought Since the great sacrifice upon the tree.
No cry of battles rousing thy young blood Urged thee to valorous deeds, and hope of fame; Lowly to abjectness thy loving task, Humble tby path, unknown till now thy name.
Had the child lived, for whom thy life was spent, We think we had not grudged the bitter cost. But both have died ; and some will say, in vain Thy calm heroic spirit has been lost.
And yet, perchance, beyond the veil of sense, At our poor folly, angels may have smiled, Seeing a young man enter perfect Life, And in his arms a little living child. C. C. L.
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