The minutes haste, than gold more dear-
Come, take your stand beside the bier!
Ask of your King, nor bow the knee
To minions of idolatry.

All power He claims in earth and heaven

Oh, press your suit from morn to even!

Ask of your gods, ye gain but death's deep swoon— Ask of the God of gods, and He will grant your boon.

Ye need a SHEPHERD-ruler, who shall own,
Despite the world, no god but God alone!
One who shall pour through vales the cooling rill,
And bid each thirsty soul his vessel fill,-
Rebuke the Virgin-mother, should she shade
The hallow'd manger, where her babe is laid,—

And bold, though frowns of men and devils lower,
Lift high the Son of God, and claim His Spirit's power!

Ye need a BAPTIST-who his staff shall rear,
Plead his Lord's cause, nor face of mortal fear;
Denounce the front of vice, 'mid royal scorn,
And meek endure the martyr's crown of thorn!
Ye need a PAUL-to scale the bounds of heaven,
And freely give what freely has been given;
A JAMES to draw all judgments from above;
A JOHN-to tinge all acts with rosy hues of love.

Ye need a PETER-not to awe the land
By brow of lordly rule, and sceptred hand;
Forcing the prostrate world his will t' obey,
And at the sword-point heralding his way.
Oh! not to such did Christ his power intrust,
But to a Peter humbled in the dust-

Exalted high, to point to Adam's race,

How deep the depths of sin-how strong a Saviour's grace.

Plead! 'tis a boon of thousands! Lo! He stands
With covenant blessings countless as the sands!
Without the sun, where beams the light of day?
Without the Word, what points the heavenward way?
Oh! do ye still to idol-gods repair?

Is not the bliss of heaven worth a prayer?

Haste to His feet who frees the fetter'd soul,

And bid these vine-spread hills the loud hosannas roll!

THE ASOCA.

"FRAGRANT JUST AFTER SUNSET AND BEFORE SUNRISE, WHEN ITS FLOWERS ARE FRESH WITH MORNING AND EVENING DEW."

PILGRIM of life! if friends caress,

If youth's gay flowers thy path be strewing,
If joy so ready is to bless,

He yields his gifts without the wooing.
Oh! pray that He whose hand has spread

Thy path of bliss may guide thee ever,
Pour His own dews upon thy head,
And in "all time of wealth deliver:"

And like that tree which hastes to shower
Its fragrance soon as morn has given
Her liquid balm, oh! ever pour
The incense of thy soul to heaven!

Pilgrim of life! if grief's dim eve
Or deeper night be fall'n upon thee—
If youth be past—if friends deceive_

Friends who once fondly woo'd and won thee;

Oh! hie thee, mourner! to the bower,
What time dim eve is duly flinging

Her chilly dews on tree and flower,

And mark the sweetness thence up-springing. Meekly to bow the willing head,

E'en when the heart is blighted-riven;

To trust, to praise, when light is fled,—
This this is incense meet for heaven!

SONNET-ON A BIRTH.

THE AUTHOR OF "PROVERBIAL PHILOSOPHY."

AT length-a dreary length of many years

God's favour hath shone forth! and bless'd thee well,

O handmaid of the Lord!—for all thy tears,

For all thy pray'rs, and hope, and faith, and fears—
With that best measure of consummate joy

A childless wife alone can fully tell

How sorely long withheld-her first-born boy!
This blessing is from heaven; to heaven once more,
Another Hannah with her Samuel,

Render thou back the talent yielding ten.
A spirit train'd right early to adore,
A heart to yearn upon its fellow-men,

A being meant and made for endless heaven-
This give to God: this, God to thee hath given.