Unchased with gold or gem of cost, from his folding robe he took!
“Here, lady fair, is the pearl of price, may it prove as such to thee!
Nay, keep thy gold—I ask it not, for the word of God is free!”
The hoary traveller went his way, but the gift he left behind
Hath had its pure and perfect work on that highborn maiden's mind,
And she hath turned from the pride of sin to the lowliness of truth,
And given her human heart to God in its beautiful hour of youth!
And she hath left the gray old halls, where an evil faith had power,
The courtly knights of her father's train, and the maidens of her bower;
And she hath gone to the Vaudois vales by lordly feet untrod,
Where the poor and needy of earth are rich in the perfect love of God!
The Female martyr.
Mary G——, aged eighteen, a ‘Sister of Charity,’ died in one of our Atlantic cities, during the prevalence of the Indian cholera, while in voluntary attendance upon the sick.“bring out your dead!” The midnight street
Heard and gave back the hoarse, low call;