Is his ungalling yoke! and all his burthens
'Tis ecstacy to bear! Him, blessed Shepherd!
His flocks shall follow through the maze of life,
And shades that tend to dayspring from on high,
And as the radiant roses, after fading,

In fuller foliage, and more fragrant breath,
Revive in smiling spring, so shall it fare
With those that love him:-for, sweet is their

savour,

And all eternity shall be their spring.
Then shall the gates and everlasting doors,
At which the King of Glory enters in,

Be to the saints unbarr'd; and there, where pleasure

Boasts an undying bloom; where dubious hope
Is certainty; and grief-attended love

Is free from passion; there we'll celebrate,
With worthier numbers, Him who is, and was,
And in immortal prowess King of kings,
Shall be the monarch of all worlds for ever.

CHRISTOPHER SMART.

Leaves have their Time to Fall.

LEAVES have their time to fall,

And flowers to wither at the north-wind's breath,

And stars to set,—but all,

Thou hast all seasons for thine own, O Death,

Day is for mortal care,

Eve for glad tidings round the joyous hearth, Night for the dreams of sleep, the voice of prayer, But all for thee, thou mightiest of the earth.

The banquet hath its hour,

Its feverish hour of mirth, and song, and wine; There comes a day for grief's o'erwhelming power,

A time for softer tears, but all are thine!

Youth and the opening rose

May look like things too glorious for decay,

And smile at thee!-but thou art not of those That wait the ripened bloom to seize their prey!

Leaves have their time to fall,

And flowers to wither at the north-wind's breath, And stars to set,—but all,

Thou hast all seasons for thine own, O Death.

We know when moons shall wane ;

When summer birds from far shall cross the sea, When autumn's hue shall tinge the golden grain,

But who shall teach us when to look for Thee!

Is it when spring's first gale

Comes forth to whisper where the violets lie? Is it when roses in our path grow pale? They have one season,-all are ours to die!

Thou art where billows foam,

Thou art where music melts upon the air;
Thou art around us in our peaceful home,
And the world calls us forth,—and Thou art there!

N

Thou art where friend meets friend,

Beneath the shadow of the elm to rest;

Thou art where foe meets foe, and trumpets rend The skies, and swords beat down the princely crest.

Leaves have their time to fall,

And flowers to wither at the north-wind's breath, And stars to set,—but all,

Thou hast all seasons for thine own, O Death.

FELICIA HEMANS.

Life's Guiding Star.

THE youth whose bark is guided o'er
A summer stream by zephyr's breath,
With idle gaze delights to

pore
On imaged skies that glow beneath.
But should a fleeting storm arise

To shade a while the watery way,

Quick lifts to heaven his anxious eyes,
And speeds to reach some sheltering bay.

'Tis thus, down time's eventful tide,

While prosperous breezes gently blow,
In life's frail bark we gayly glide,

Our hopes, our thoughts all fixed below.
But let one cloud the prospect dim,
The wind its quiet stillness mar,

At once we raise our prayer to Him
Whose light is life's best guiding star.
WILLIAM LEGGETT.

Let me Libe to Thee.

FATHER! whate'er of earthly bliss

Thy sovereign will denies ;
Accepted at thy throne of grace,
Let this petition rise;

Give me a calm, a thankful heart,
From every murmur free;
The blessings of thy grace impart,
And let me live to Thee:

Let the sweet hope that thou art mine,
My life and death attend;

Thy presence through my journey shine,

And crown my journey's end.

STEELE.

66

Let there be Light.

"ET THERE BE LIGHT!" The Eternal spoke,

And from the abyss where darkness rode

The earliest dawn of nature broke,

And light around creation flow'd. The glad earth smiled to see the day, The first-born day come blushing in; The young day smiled to shed its ray Upon a world untouch'd by sin.

"Let there be light!" O'er heaven and earth, The GOD who first the day-beam pour'd,

Utter'd again his fiat forth,

And shed the gospel's light abroad,

And, like the dawn, its cheering rays
On rich and poor were meant to fall,
Inspiring their Redeemer's praise,
In lowly cot and lordly hall.

Then come, when in the orient first
Flushes the signal-light for prayer;
Come with the earliest beams that burst

From God's bright throne of glory there.
Come kneel to Him who through the night
Hath watch'd above thy sleeping soul,
To Him whose mercies, like his light,
Are shed abroad from pole to pole.

CHARLES F. HOFFMAN.

Lord of the Sabbath, hear us Pray.

L

ORD of the Sabbath, hear us pray,

In this thy house, on this thy day; And own, as grateful sacrifice,

The songs which from thy temple rise.

Thine earthly Sabbaths, Lord, we love;
But there's a nobler rest above;
To that our labouring souls aspire
With ardent hope and strong desire.

No more fatigue, no more distress,
Nor sin, nor death, shall reach that place;
No sighs shall mingle with the songs
That warble from immortal tongues.