The Hope beyond the Grave.

All labourers draw home at even,

And can to other say,

"Thanks to the gracious God of heaven,
Who sent this summer's day."

213

C

Come not, D Lord.

T. MOORE.-Air, Haydn.

OME not, O Lord, in the dread robe of splendour,

Thou wor'st on the Mount, in the day of Thine ire; Come, veil'd in those shadows, deep, awful, but tender, Which mercy flings over Thy features of fire!

Lord, Thou rememb'rest the night when Thy nation *
Stood fronting her foe by the red rolling stream ;
O'er Egypt Thy pillar shed dark desolation,
While Israel bask'd all the night in its beam.

So when the dread clouds of anger unfold Thee,
From us, in Thy mercy, the dark side remove;
While shrouded in terrors the guilty behold Thee,
Oh, turn upon us the mild light of Thy love!

The Hope beyond the Grave.

J. E. CARPENTER.-Music by Stephen Glover.

HERE'S a hope-'tis not for splendour,

THE

For splendour cannot give,

With all that it can render,

The hope for which we live ;

* Exodus xiv. 20.

Worth all the fame we sigh for,
All the laurels of the brave,
Is that which we should die for,
The hope beyond the grave!

There's a hope, though few have sought it,
In this world of thorns and flowers,
Though a blessed Saviour bought it
With His own dear life for ours;
'Tis the hope of bliss undying,
That, for us, He died to crave,
Oh! may ours, when life is flying,
Be the hope beyond the grave!

Mariner's Hymn.

CAROLINE SOUTHEY.

LAUNCH thy bark, mariner!

Christian, Heaven speed thee!

Let loose the rudder bands!

Good angels lead thee!

Set thy sails warily,

Tempests will come :
Steer thy course steadily!
Christian, steer home!

Look to the weather bow,
Breakers are round thee !
Let fall the plummet now,
Shallows may ground thee!
Reef in the foresail there!
Hold the helm fast!
So-let the vessel wear!

There-sweep the blast.

Hope in Sorrow.

What of the night, watchman?
What of the night?
"Cloudy-all quiet-

No land yet-all's right."
Be wakeful, be vigilant,

Danger may be

At an hour when all seems

Securest to thee.

How-gains the leak so fast?
Clear out the hold,

Hoist up thy merchandise-
Heave out the gold!
There-let the ingots go!

Now the ship rights;
Hurrah! the harbour's near,—
Lo, the red lights.

Slacken not sail yet

At inlet or island,

Straight for the beacon steer

Straight for the high land;

Crowd all thy canvas on,

Cut through the foam,
Christian cast anchor now:

Heaven is thy home!

E

Hope in Sorrow.

ANNA BLACKWELL.

YES that have spent their weeping,

That have lost the power of tears;

Hearts that are coldly keeping

The memories of years;

215

Sleep! sleep, and through your slumbers

The watchers, tried and calm,
Shall breathe, in angel-numbers,
A sweet and solemn psalm.

Shall say, 66 No cloud can gather
Around His children's path,
But He, th' all-loving Father,
His part in their sadness hath.

Not for His own good pleasure
Would He have given them life,
Unless joy's coming measure
Outweigh'd all present strife.

"Who gently bears his sorrow,
And lives it bravely down,
Shall win a fairer morrow,

And wear the starry crown."

The Child and the Stars.

J. E. CARPENTER.—Music by James Perring.

HEY tell me, dear father, each gem in the sky

"TH

That sparkles at night is a star, But why do they dwell in those regions so

And shed their cold lustre so far?

I know that the sun makes the blossoms to

That it gives to the flow'rets their birth,

high,

spring,

But what are the stars? do they nothing but fling

Their cold rays of light upon earth?”

The Use of the Flowers.

"My child, it is said that yon stars in the sky

Are worlds that are fashion'd like this,

Where the souls of the good and the gentle who die,
Assemble together in bliss;

And the ray that they shed o'er the earth is the light

Of His glory whose throne is above,

That tells us, who dwell in these regions of night,
How great is His goodness and love.”

217

“Then, father, why still press your hand to your brow, Why still are your cheeks pale with care?

If all that was gentle be dwelling there now,

Dear mother, I know, must be there."

"Thou chidest me well," said the father, with pain,

"Thy wisdom is greater by far;

We may mourn for the lost, but we should not complain, While we gaze on each beautiful star."

The Use of the Flowers.

MRS MARY HOWITT.

OD might have bade this earth bring forth

G°

Enough for great and small,

The oak tree and the cedar tree,

Without a flower at all.

He might have made enough,—enough

For every want of ours,—

For luxury, medicine, and toil,

And yet have made no flowers.

The ore within the mountain mine

Requireth none to grow,

Nor doth it need the lotus flower

To make the river flow,