The sweat pours down from Peter's face, So grievous is his heart's contrition; With agony his eye-balls ache While he beholds by the furze-brake This miserable vision! Calm is the well-deserving brute, His peace, hath no offence betrayed ; · But now, while down that slope he wends, A voice to Peter's ear ascends, Resounding from the woody glade : Though clamorous as a hunter's horn "Tis from that tabernacle List! Within, a fervent Methodist Is preaching to no heedless flock! "Repent! repent!" he cries aloud, - strive "While yet ye may find mercy ;"To love the Lord with all your might; "Turn to him, seek him day and night, "And save your souls alive! 66 66 Repent! repent! though ye have gone Through paths of wickedness and woe "After the Babylonian harlot, "And though your sins be red as scarlet They shall be white as snow!" 66 Even as he passed the door, these words Sweet tears of hope and tenderness ! Each fibre of his frame was weak; An infant that has known no sin. 'Tis said, that through prevailing grace In memory of that solemn day Of shouting people deified! Meanwhile the persevering Ass, Towards a gate in open view, Turns up a narrow lane; his chest And quietly passed through. And up the stony lane he goes; As if with felt his hoofs were shod. * The notion is very general, that the Cross on the back and shoulders of this Animal has the origin here alluded to. Along the lane the trusty Ass Had gone two hundred yards, not more; He turned aside towards the same Thought Peter, 'tis the poor man's home! He listens not a sound is heard Save from the trickling household rill; She to the Meeting-house was bound 66 My father! here's my father!" The very word was plainly heard, Heard plainly by the wretched Mother Her joy was like a deep affright; - And instantly, upon the earth Beneath the full moon shining bright, Close at the Ass's feet she fell ; At the same moment Peter Bell What could he do? The Woman lay Of Peter sadly was confused; But, though to such demands unused, He raised her up; and, while he held "Oh! God be praised my heart's at ease "For he is dead I know it well!" At this she wept a bitter flood; And, in the best way that he could, |