forth in might,
Plows up the subsoil of the stagnant heart
And brings the imprisoned truth-seed to the light,

Wrung from the troubled spirit in hard hours
Of weakness, solitude, perchance of pain,
Truth springs like harvest from the well-plowed field.
And the soul feels it has not wept in vain.

--Horatius Bonar.

Though trouble-tossed and torture-torn
The kingliest kings are crowned with thorn.

--Gerald Massey.

HEAVIER THE CROSS

Heavier the cross the stronger faith:
The loaded palm strikes deeper root;
The vine-juice sweetly issueth
When men have pressed the clustered fruit;
And courage grows where dangers come
Like pearls beneath the salt sea foam.

Heavier the cross the heartier prayer;
The bruised herbs most fragrant are;
If sky and wind were always fair
The sailor would not watch the star;
And David's psalms had ne'er been sung
If grief his heart had never wrung.

Heavier the cross the more aspiring;
From vales we climb to mountain's crest;
The pilgrim, of the desert tiring,
Longs for the Canaan of his rest.
The dove has here no rest in sight,
And to the ark she wings her flight.

Heavier the cross the easier dying;
Death is a friendlier face to see;
To life's decay one bids defying,
From life's distress one then is free;
The cross sublimely lifts our faith
To him who triumphed over death.

Thou Crucified! the cross I carry--
The longer may it dearer be;
And, lest I faint while here I tarry,
Implant thou such a heart in me
That faith, hope, love, may flourish there
Till for the cross my crown I wear.

--Benjamin Schmolke.

LA ROCHELLE

A worthy man of Paris town
Came to the bishop there:
His face, o'erclouded with dismay,
Betrayed a fixed despair.

"Father," said he, "a sinner vile
Am I, against my will:
Each hour I humbly pray for faith,
But am a doubter still.

"Sure were I not despised of God,
He would not leave me so
To struggle thus in constant strife
Against the deadly foe."

The bishop to his sorrowing son
Thus spoke a kind relief:
"The King of France has castles twain;
To each he sends a chief.

"There's Montelhery, far inland,
That stands in place secure;
While La Rochelle,