Page:Moral Pieces in Prose and Verse.pdf/40



Now faded, dark, and foul with stains, Defac'd with blood, and soil'd with clay, A remnant round the staff remains, Oh! save it, ere 'tis rent away.

And ask not why that sword is dyed In carnage reeking to the hilt? The stains are dark that mark its side, But redden with the hue of guilt,

Yet Oh! the land where saints have pray'd,    And holy men, and heroes trod, Though for a season dark with shade, Is not forsaken of its God.

I trust some beam of hope will rise, To cheer this dim and troubled spot; Some star of mercy light the skies, Though now its lustre glimmers not.

Then if one plant of peace be left, One stream that still with freedom runs, One branch not yet of bloom bereft, Oh, save it for your infant sons.

Like diamond be the shield you wear, Which no rash stain of blood shall dim; Lift to your God the eye of prayer, And firmly fix your trust in Him.