You ask me of my sorrows;
But how can I repine?
How can I dwell in sadness
While Jesus' love is mine?
I seek not earth's vain pleasures,
With Him my hope is stored,―
The hope of future glory,

For ever with the Lord.

B. L.

SELF-EXAMINATION.

"Search me, O God, and know my heart." Psalm cxxxix. 23.

O LORD of mercy and of might!
My humbled heart behold;
And give thy Spirit's living light,
To search its inmost fold.

Against that heart's presumptuous sins,
I fly to faith and prayer;
But where the tempter's art begins,
Oh! save me, save me there!

Teach me to shun the first dark thought,
The wandering of the will;

Oh! keep the soul thy blood has bought,
And let me serve Thee still.

When dreams of folly cloud my mind,
And prompt to sins unknown;
The dream dissolve, the chain unbind,
And make me all thine own.

CROLY.

THE CONTENTED PRISONER.

A LITTLE bird I am,

Shut from the fields of air, And in my cage I sit and sing,

To Him who placed me there; Well pleased a prisoner to be, Because, my God, it pleases Thee.

Nought have I else to do,

I sing the whole day long;

And He whom much I love to please,
Doth listen to my song:

He caught and bound my wandering wing,
But still He bends to hear me sing.

Thou hast an ear to hear,

A heart to love and bless;

And though my thoughts were e'er so rude, Thou wouldst not hear the less;

Because thou knowest, as they fall,

That love, sweet love, inspires them all.

My cage confines me round,

Abroad I cannot fly;

But though my wing is closely bound,

My heart's at liberty;

My prison walls cannot control

The flight, the freedom of the soul.

Oh! it is good to soar

These bolts and bars above,
To Him whose purpose I adore,
Whose providence I love;
And in thy mighty will to find
The joy, the freedom of the mind.

FROM MADAME GUION.

SWEET-BRIER.

THOUGH sharp, yet sweet, my leaves declare How goodly painful trials are,

And keen affliction's blessing;

So He who wore the thorny crown,
Sends with the cross his patience down,
Correcting and caressing.

Oh! seek no bliss but to fulfil,
In life and death, his holy will;
No comforts in thy woe desire,
Save those his promises inspire.
Our years are numbered; let us spare
Our anxious hearts a heedless care;
'Tis His to number out our days,
'Tis ours to spend them in His praise.

FROM MADAME GUION.

The above were written by Madame Guion during her long imprisonment.

BENEVOLENCE.

"The silver is mine, and the gold is mine, saith the Lord of Hosts."-Haggai ii. 8.

WHOSE is the gold that glitters in the mine?
And whose the silver? Are they not the Lord's?
And lo! the cattle on a thousand hills,

And the broad earth with all her gushing springs,
Are they not his who made them?

Ye who hold

Slight tenantry therein, and call your lands
By your own names, and lock your gathered gold
From him who in his bleeding Saviour's name
Doth ask a part, whose shall those riches be,
When, like the grass-blade from the autumn frost,
You fall away?

Oh man! whose daily labour is for heirs,

Thou knowest not who-thou in thy mouldering bed,
Unseen, and unremembered then, shalt sleep;
Nor will they thank thee that thou didst bereave
Thy soul of good for them.

Now, thou mayest give
The famish'd food, the prisoner liberty,
Light to the darken'd mind, to the lost soul
A place in heaven. Take thou the privilege
With solemn gratitude. Speck as thou art
Upon earth's surface, gloriously exult
To be co-worker with the King of Kings.

Mrs. SIGOURNEY.

THE SAVIOUR'S PRESENCE DESIRED.

"Abide with us, for it is towards evening, and the day is far spent."-Luke xxiv. 29.

DWELL with us here, thou God of love,
Closely draws on the evening hour,
Amid its shadows let us prove

Thy never-failing care and power.

The day is hastening to depart,

Its beams will soon be wrapped in night;
Fulfil thy promise to our heart,

"At evening time it shall be light."

As on the parched and wearied ground,
Softly descends the welcome dew:
So let thy saving grace abound,

And life and strength to us renew.

The day has faded from our sight,
The sun has sunk beneath the west,
Turn thou our darkness into light,

And bid our troubled spirit rest.

Shew to us, Lord, a glorious dawn

Of radiant hues and cloudless skies;
When shall the long-expected morn
Burst on our waiting, weary eyes?

Grant us a pure and stedfast faith,

A hope of heaven serene and bright,
Till through the grave and gate of death,
Our faith be lost in glorious sight.

Y