PASSING UNDER THE ROD.

PASSING UNDER THE ROD.

“It was the custom of the Jews to select the tenth of their sheep after this manner. The lambs were separated from their dams, and enclosed in a sheepcote, with only one narrow way out: the dams were at the entrance. On opening the gate, the lambs hastened to join their dams, and a man placed at the entrance with a rod dipped in ochre, touched every tenth lamb, and so marked it with his rod, saying—‘LET THIS BE HOLY.’”

“It was the custom of the Jews to select the tenth of their sheep after this manner. The lambs were separated from their dams, and enclosed in a sheepcote, with only one narrow way out: the dams were at the entrance. On opening the gate, the lambs hastened to join their dams, and a man placed at the entrance with a rod dipped in ochre, touched every tenth lamb, and so marked it with his rod, saying—‘LET THIS BE HOLY.’”

“And I will cause you to pass under the rod, and I will bring you into the bond of the covenant.”—Ezk.xx: 37.

“And I will cause you to pass under the rod, and I will bring you into the bond of the covenant.”—Ezk.xx: 37.

I saw the young bride, in her beauty and pride,Bedeck’d in her snowy array;And the bright flush of joy mantled high on her cheek,And the future look’d blooming and gay:And with woman’s devotion she laid her fond heartAt the shrine of idolatrous love,And she anchor’d her hopes to this perishing earth,By the chain which her tenderness wove.But I saw when those heartstrings were bleeding and torn,And the chain had been sever’d in two,She had changed her white robes for the sables of grief,And her bloom for the paleness of wo!But the Healer was there, pouring balm on her heart,And wiping the tears from her eyes,And he strengthened the chain he had broken in twain,And fasten’d it firm to the skies!There had whisper’d a voice—twas the voice of her God,“I love thee—I love thee—pass under the rod!”I saw the young mother in tenderness bendO’er the couch of her slumbering boy,And she kissed the soft lips as they murmur’d her name,While the dreamer lay smiling in joy.O, sweet as a rose bud encircled with dew,When its fragrance is flung on the air,So fresh and so bright to that mother he seem’d,As he lay in his innocence there.But I saw when she gazed on the same lovely form,Pale as marble, and silent, and cold,But paler and colder her beautiful boy,And the tale of her sorrow was told!But the Healer was there who had stricken her heart,And taken her treasure away,To allure her to Heaven he has placed it on high,And the mourner will sweetly obey.There had whisper’d a voice—’twas the voice of her God,“I love thee—I love thee—pass under the rod!”I saw the fond brother, with glances of love,Gazing down on a gentle young girl,And she hung on his arm, and breath’d soft in his ear,As he play’d with each graceful curl.O, he loved the sweet tones of her silvery voice,Let her use it in sadness or glee;And he’d clasp his brave arms round her delicate form,As she sat on her brother’s knee.But I saw when he gazed on her death-stricken face,And she breath’d not a word in his ear;And he clasp’d his brave arms round an icy cold form,And he moisten’d her cheek with a tear.But the Healer was there, and he said to him thus—“Grieve not for thy sister’s short life,”And he gave to his arms still another fair girl,And he made her his own cherish’d wife!There had whisper’d a voice—’twas the voice of his God,“I love thee—I love thee—pass under the rod!”I saw where a father and mother had lean’dOn the arms of a dear gifted son,And the star in the future grew bright to their gaze,As they saw the proud place he had won:And the fast coming evening of life promis’d fair,And its pathway grew smooth to their feet,And the starlight of love glimmer’d bright at the end,And the whispers of fancy were sweet.But I saw when they stood, bending low o’er the grave,Where their hearts’ dearest hope had been laid,And the star had gone down in the darkness of night,And the joy from their bosoms had fled.But the Healer was there, and his arms were around,And he led them with tenderest care;And he show’d them a star in a bright upper world,’Twastheir starshining brilliantly there!They had each heard a voice—’twas the voice of their God,“I love thee—I love thee—pass under the rod!”

I saw the young bride, in her beauty and pride,Bedeck’d in her snowy array;And the bright flush of joy mantled high on her cheek,And the future look’d blooming and gay:And with woman’s devotion she laid her fond heartAt the shrine of idolatrous love,And she anchor’d her hopes to this perishing earth,By the chain which her tenderness wove.But I saw when those heartstrings were bleeding and torn,And the chain had been sever’d in two,She had changed her white robes for the sables of grief,And her bloom for the paleness of wo!But the Healer was there, pouring balm on her heart,And wiping the tears from her eyes,And he strengthened the chain he had broken in twain,And fasten’d it firm to the skies!There had whisper’d a voice—twas the voice of her God,“I love thee—I love thee—pass under the rod!”I saw the young mother in tenderness bendO’er the couch of her slumbering boy,And she kissed the soft lips as they murmur’d her name,While the dreamer lay smiling in joy.O, sweet as a rose bud encircled with dew,When its fragrance is flung on the air,So fresh and so bright to that mother he seem’d,As he lay in his innocence there.But I saw when she gazed on the same lovely form,Pale as marble, and silent, and cold,But paler and colder her beautiful boy,And the tale of her sorrow was told!But the Healer was there who had stricken her heart,And taken her treasure away,To allure her to Heaven he has placed it on high,And the mourner will sweetly obey.There had whisper’d a voice—’twas the voice of her God,“I love thee—I love thee—pass under the rod!”I saw the fond brother, with glances of love,Gazing down on a gentle young girl,And she hung on his arm, and breath’d soft in his ear,As he play’d with each graceful curl.O, he loved the sweet tones of her silvery voice,Let her use it in sadness or glee;And he’d clasp his brave arms round her delicate form,As she sat on her brother’s knee.But I saw when he gazed on her death-stricken face,And she breath’d not a word in his ear;And he clasp’d his brave arms round an icy cold form,And he moisten’d her cheek with a tear.But the Healer was there, and he said to him thus—“Grieve not for thy sister’s short life,”And he gave to his arms still another fair girl,And he made her his own cherish’d wife!There had whisper’d a voice—’twas the voice of his God,“I love thee—I love thee—pass under the rod!”I saw where a father and mother had lean’dOn the arms of a dear gifted son,And the star in the future grew bright to their gaze,As they saw the proud place he had won:And the fast coming evening of life promis’d fair,And its pathway grew smooth to their feet,And the starlight of love glimmer’d bright at the end,And the whispers of fancy were sweet.But I saw when they stood, bending low o’er the grave,Where their hearts’ dearest hope had been laid,And the star had gone down in the darkness of night,And the joy from their bosoms had fled.But the Healer was there, and his arms were around,And he led them with tenderest care;And he show’d them a star in a bright upper world,’Twastheir starshining brilliantly there!They had each heard a voice—’twas the voice of their God,“I love thee—I love thee—pass under the rod!”

I saw the young bride, in her beauty and pride,Bedeck’d in her snowy array;And the bright flush of joy mantled high on her cheek,And the future look’d blooming and gay:And with woman’s devotion she laid her fond heartAt the shrine of idolatrous love,And she anchor’d her hopes to this perishing earth,By the chain which her tenderness wove.But I saw when those heartstrings were bleeding and torn,And the chain had been sever’d in two,She had changed her white robes for the sables of grief,And her bloom for the paleness of wo!But the Healer was there, pouring balm on her heart,And wiping the tears from her eyes,And he strengthened the chain he had broken in twain,And fasten’d it firm to the skies!There had whisper’d a voice—twas the voice of her God,“I love thee—I love thee—pass under the rod!”

I saw the young bride, in her beauty and pride,

Bedeck’d in her snowy array;

And the bright flush of joy mantled high on her cheek,

And the future look’d blooming and gay:

And with woman’s devotion she laid her fond heart

At the shrine of idolatrous love,

And she anchor’d her hopes to this perishing earth,

By the chain which her tenderness wove.

But I saw when those heartstrings were bleeding and torn,

And the chain had been sever’d in two,

She had changed her white robes for the sables of grief,

And her bloom for the paleness of wo!

But the Healer was there, pouring balm on her heart,

And wiping the tears from her eyes,

And he strengthened the chain he had broken in twain,

And fasten’d it firm to the skies!

There had whisper’d a voice—twas the voice of her God,

“I love thee—I love thee—pass under the rod!”

I saw the young mother in tenderness bendO’er the couch of her slumbering boy,And she kissed the soft lips as they murmur’d her name,While the dreamer lay smiling in joy.O, sweet as a rose bud encircled with dew,When its fragrance is flung on the air,So fresh and so bright to that mother he seem’d,As he lay in his innocence there.But I saw when she gazed on the same lovely form,Pale as marble, and silent, and cold,But paler and colder her beautiful boy,And the tale of her sorrow was told!But the Healer was there who had stricken her heart,And taken her treasure away,To allure her to Heaven he has placed it on high,And the mourner will sweetly obey.There had whisper’d a voice—’twas the voice of her God,“I love thee—I love thee—pass under the rod!”

I saw the young mother in tenderness bend

O’er the couch of her slumbering boy,

And she kissed the soft lips as they murmur’d her name,

While the dreamer lay smiling in joy.

O, sweet as a rose bud encircled with dew,

When its fragrance is flung on the air,

So fresh and so bright to that mother he seem’d,

As he lay in his innocence there.

But I saw when she gazed on the same lovely form,

Pale as marble, and silent, and cold,

But paler and colder her beautiful boy,

And the tale of her sorrow was told!

But the Healer was there who had stricken her heart,

And taken her treasure away,

To allure her to Heaven he has placed it on high,

And the mourner will sweetly obey.

There had whisper’d a voice—’twas the voice of her God,

“I love thee—I love thee—pass under the rod!”

I saw the fond brother, with glances of love,Gazing down on a gentle young girl,And she hung on his arm, and breath’d soft in his ear,As he play’d with each graceful curl.O, he loved the sweet tones of her silvery voice,Let her use it in sadness or glee;And he’d clasp his brave arms round her delicate form,As she sat on her brother’s knee.But I saw when he gazed on her death-stricken face,And she breath’d not a word in his ear;And he clasp’d his brave arms round an icy cold form,And he moisten’d her cheek with a tear.But the Healer was there, and he said to him thus—“Grieve not for thy sister’s short life,”And he gave to his arms still another fair girl,And he made her his own cherish’d wife!There had whisper’d a voice—’twas the voice of his God,“I love thee—I love thee—pass under the rod!”

I saw the fond brother, with glances of love,

Gazing down on a gentle young girl,

And she hung on his arm, and breath’d soft in his ear,

As he play’d with each graceful curl.

O, he loved the sweet tones of her silvery voice,

Let her use it in sadness or glee;

And he’d clasp his brave arms round her delicate form,

As she sat on her brother’s knee.

But I saw when he gazed on her death-stricken face,

And she breath’d not a word in his ear;

And he clasp’d his brave arms round an icy cold form,

And he moisten’d her cheek with a tear.

But the Healer was there, and he said to him thus—

“Grieve not for thy sister’s short life,”

And he gave to his arms still another fair girl,

And he made her his own cherish’d wife!

There had whisper’d a voice—’twas the voice of his God,

“I love thee—I love thee—pass under the rod!”

I saw where a father and mother had lean’dOn the arms of a dear gifted son,And the star in the future grew bright to their gaze,As they saw the proud place he had won:And the fast coming evening of life promis’d fair,And its pathway grew smooth to their feet,And the starlight of love glimmer’d bright at the end,And the whispers of fancy were sweet.But I saw when they stood, bending low o’er the grave,Where their hearts’ dearest hope had been laid,And the star had gone down in the darkness of night,And the joy from their bosoms had fled.But the Healer was there, and his arms were around,And he led them with tenderest care;And he show’d them a star in a bright upper world,’Twastheir starshining brilliantly there!They had each heard a voice—’twas the voice of their God,“I love thee—I love thee—pass under the rod!”

I saw where a father and mother had lean’d

On the arms of a dear gifted son,

And the star in the future grew bright to their gaze,

As they saw the proud place he had won:

And the fast coming evening of life promis’d fair,

And its pathway grew smooth to their feet,

And the starlight of love glimmer’d bright at the end,

And the whispers of fancy were sweet.

But I saw when they stood, bending low o’er the grave,

Where their hearts’ dearest hope had been laid,

And the star had gone down in the darkness of night,

And the joy from their bosoms had fled.

But the Healer was there, and his arms were around,

And he led them with tenderest care;

And he show’d them a star in a bright upper world,

’Twastheir starshining brilliantly there!

They had each heard a voice—’twas the voice of their God,

“I love thee—I love thee—pass under the rod!”

Charleston,July 6, 1840.

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