Gaze on the gambler, pale with care and sorrow,
    And mark the dismal shades he long hath trod,
  Who lives to witness each returning morrow,
    Sin-burdened, roll before an outraged God!

  Seest thou the light from yonder casement streaming? 
    Seest thou the shadow on the window cast? 
  There, lost in thought and poesy’s wild dreaming,
    Waits one to hear Fame’s loud but fickle blast.

  This is his life’s great aim; but what beyond it? 
    Of Truth’s bright treasure though he love to tell,
  In barren mines of lore he hath not found it,
    Bowing beneath his idol’s deadly spell.

  But gaze on One, who seeks in all around him,
    Lessons of good to cheer him on his way,
  As every golden year through life hath found him
    Nearer the realms of Heaven’s eternal day.

  With him events of earth are sweet evangels,
    All meaner things but step-stones hurled beneath;
  Whilst nobler lead to Eden-realms of angels,
    With shining robes, and crown, and amaranth wreath.

  Oh! fellow-pilgrims through this desert dreary,
    In all the scenes of life God’s mercy trace,
  Then though with grief cast down, with watching weary,
    Strong shall ye stand in His sufficient grace!

  Thus sweet, melodious tones and forms of beauty,
    All glorious sights and sounds may ever prove
  Angels to lure us on the path of duty,
    Echoes of symphonies that float above!

BODILY DEFORMITY, SPIRITUAL BEAUTY.

WHO has not observed in passing through the crowded streets of our city, how great, comparatively, is the number of those, who are more or less deformed?  My heart aches for these poor unfortunates, who are deprived of some of the legitimate avenues of enjoyment which God has so bounteously vouchsafed to me.

Here is one (and it would seem to me the most unmitigated of all the catalogue) who is groping his way along in darkness, holding fast by the hand of a little girl.  There is another who has lost a limb, and makes his way along with the utmost difficulty.  Yonder is one so extremely deformed, that his sensitiveness forbids him often to appear in the crowded streets.  And there is another still, who is quite helpless, sitting in a little wagon drawn about by a faithful dog.

In the minds of different individuals, these various aspects of deformity produce pity, disgust, and horror; but I have often thought, could we but look, as God looks—­down into the audience chamber of the spirit—­the heart—­how differently our minds would be affected at the sight of these bodily deformities.  Perhaps yon poor blind man, grinding away upon his hand-organ, whose natural eyes for long, weary years, have been closed against the profusion of beauty around him, has had the eyes of his understanding opened, and the pure light from the eternal throne illumes the depth of his soul.