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CHRISTINA.
Shrunk up within it as a shrivelled scroll
Falls from the embers, black,—yet unconsumed.
For One in Heaven still loved me, one on earth.
Father, I would speak to thee of Love;
We learn the price of goodliest things through losing.
They who have sat in darkness bless the light,
And sweetest songs have risen to Liberty
From souls once bound in misery and iron;
So, Father, I would speak to thee of Love.
Fain are my lips, and fain my heart to sing
The glad new song that both have learned so late.
Once, ere my soul had burst the fowler's snare,
I heard a wild stern man, that stood and cried
Within the market-place; a man by love
Of souls sent forth among the lanes and highways,
To seek, and haply save, some wandering one
Long strayed, like mine, from flock, and fold, and pastor.
His words were bold and vehement; as one
Set among flints, that strove to strike a spark
From out dull, hardened natures. Then he used
The terrors of the Lord in his persuading;
Death, Judgment, and their fearful after-looking,
Grew darker at his words: "How long," he said,
"O simple ones, will ye be fain to follow
Hard service and hard wages—Sin and Death?
Now, the world comes betwixt your souls and God;
Here, you can do without Him and be happy;
He speaks to you by love, ye put Him by;
But He will speak to you by wrath, and then