28 SEPTEMBER 1872, Page 17

SONNET.—HUMILI TY.

Fain, soft, Humility, so seldom seen, So oft despised upon this little earth, Counted by men as dross of nothing worth, Though in the sight of Mightiness supreme 'Tis hailed and welcomed as a glorious birth, Offspring of greatness, beauty perfected, And yet of such fragility extreme,

That if we call it ours, 'tis forfeited ; Named, it escapes us, thus we need beware, When with the Publican we plead the prayer, "A sinner, Lord, be merciful to me !" Our hearts do not say softly, "I thank Thee, 0 Lord, for this sweet grace, Humility, Which I possess, unlike the Pharisee."