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Saviour at thy feet I fall;
Thou, my life, my God, my all!
Lord of glory, I am thine;
Let thy peace around me shine,
Let thy happy servant be

One with God, since one with Thee.

"COME UP HITHER."

Rev. iv. 1.

THE loved ones gone

before me

Are calling from on high,

And joyous angels o'er me
Tempt sweetly to the sky.
"Why wait," they say, "and wither
Mid scenes of death and sin?

O rise to glory hither,

And find true life begin."

I hear the invitation,

I hope to rise and come,

A sinner to salvation,

An exile to his home:

And while I here shall linger,
Let every thing I see

Direct with faithful finger,

To heaven, O Lord, and Thee.

H. F. LYTE.

BEST WISHES.

WHO art thou stranger? Nay, read on,
I will not ask thy name or lot;
Whether thy days be well nigh gone
Or in their spring-it matters not;
Thou art my brother! and for thee
Stranger! shall my best wishes be.

Life is a sea of stormy pain;

Thou know'st it, or thou soon wilt know: Thine be the faith that braves the main, When its most angry tempests blow:

Thine anchor cast within the veil !
None ever knew that mooring fail.

Thine be the love-refined from sense-
That seeks its object in the skies,
Draws all its warmth and brightness thence,
Its comfort, confidence, and joys;

And be thy best affections giv'n,
To Him, who lov'd thee first, in heaven.

Thine be the refuge,-ever found

By them who seek in faith and prayer From all the trials that abound

Throughout this wilderness of care, The faithfulness of Him, whose love Storms cannot quench, nor death remove.

Z

Thine be the meekness of the flower
That bows its head before the blast;
Increase in wisdom and in power;
Be lowliness around thee cast;
Thy faith and love, like flames of fire
Trembling, the higher they aspire.

And when thy Master calls thee—thine,
Thine be the crown of endless joy,
Where Heaven's eternal rivers shine
Beneath a bright and cloudless sky,
Those realms-how beautiful and fair,
Stranger! a blissful meeting there!

A RELIGION OF CEREMONIES.

WHEN nations are to perish in their sins,
'Tis in the church the leprosy begins,
Then God's own image on the soul impressed,
Becomes a mockery—a standing jest ;
And faith, the root whence only can arise
The graces of a life that wins the skies,
Loses at once all value and esteem,
Pronounced a foolish—a pernicious dream:
Then ceremony leads her bigots forth,
Prepared to fight for shadows of no worth;
While truths on which eternal things depend,
Find not, or hardly find, a single friend;
And many fill religion's vacant place,
With hollow form, and gesture, and grimace.

COWPER.

MORNING AND EVENING.

As every day thy mercy spares,
Will bring its trials or its cares,
O Saviour, till my life shall end,
Be Thou my counsellor and friend;
Teach me thy precepts all divine,
And be thy great example mine.

When each day's scenes and labours close,
And wearied nature seeks repose,
With pardoning mercy richly blest,
Guard me, my Saviour, while I rest;
And as each morning sun shall rise,
O, lead me onward to the skies!

And at my life's last setting sun,
My conflicts o'er, my labours done,
Jesus, thine heavenly radiance shed,
To cheer and bless my dying bed-
And from death's gloom, my spirit raise,
To see thy face, and sing thy praise.

THE VALUE OF THE SOUL.

KNOW'ST thou the value of a soul immortal?
Behold this midnight glory: worlds on worlds!
Amazing pomp! Redouble this amaze,

Ten thousand add; add twice ten thousand more;
Then weigh the whole :-one soul outweighs them

all.

YOUNG.

PATIENCE.

THOUGH the heart that sorrow chideth

Sink in anguish and in care,

Yet if patience still abideth,

Hope shall paint her rainbow there.

Faith's bright lamp her light shall borrow
From Religion's blessed ray,
And from every coming morrow,
Chase the clouds of grief away.

Wherefore then should Christians languish ?
Since their cares so soon shall cease,
And the heart that sows in anguish
Shall hereafter reap in peace.

This is not a scene of pleasure,
These are not the shores of bliss ;
We shall gain a brighter treasure,
Find a happier land than this.

THE BENEFIT OF TRIALS.
OFTEN the clouds of deepest woe
So sweet a message bear,

Dark though they seem, 'twere hard to find
A frown of anger there.

Yes, often has adversity
A richer boon bestowed,

Has oft bequeathed a purer joy

Than all the world calls good.

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