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10
CHRISTINA.
Of them is but to take their names in vain.
Oft hast thou told me how souls hang on God
Like leaves upon a gracious bough, that draw
Their juices from its fulness; long ago
Mine fell from off that Tree of Life, thereon
Retaining not its hold;—a withered leaf
It lies, and bears the lightning's brand upon it."
"Yea, truly," said Christina, "it may bear
The spoiler's mark upon it, yet, like His[1]
Of whom the Scriptures tell us, may thy soul
(A watcher and an Holy One befriending)
Have yet a root within the earth; though bound
About with brass and iron, still the dews
Lie on it, and the tender grass around
Is wet with tears from heaven; so may it spring
Once more to greenness and to life, for all
The years it felt the pressure of the band
So close and grievous round it." But I cried,
"There is no root! a leaf, a withered leaf,
Long tossed upon the wind, and under foot
Of men long trodden in the streets and trampled,—
God will not gather it within His bosom!"
"And who art thou that answerest for God?
Now from this mouth of thine will I condemn thee
For, saying that thou knowest nought of love,
How canst thou judge of Him whose name it is?"
But here she clasped her fervent hands, and all
The sternness melted from her: "Look on me,
A sinner such as thou,—yet I have loved thee;

  1. Daniel iv.