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Or like the sun, or like the shade,

Or like the gourd which JONAS had,---
Even so is man, whose thread is spun,
Drawn out, and cut, and so is done:
The rose withers, the blossom blasteth,
The flower fades, the morning hasteth,
The sun sets, the shadow flies,
The gourd consumes, and man he dies.
ANON.

Deathless Principle, Arise!
DEATHLESS principle, arise!

Soar, thou native of the skies!
Pearl of price, by Jesus bought,
To his glorious likeness wrought!
Go to shine before his throne;
Deck his mediatorial crown;
Go, His triumph to adorn,-
Made for God, to God return.
Lo! He beckons from on high,—
Fearless to His presence fly:
Thine the merit of his blood;
Thine the righteousness of God!
Angels, joyful to attend,

Hovering, round thy pillow bend;
Wait to catch the signal given,
And escort thee quick to heaven.
Is thy earthly house distress'd,
Willing to retain her guest?
'Tis not thou, but she, must die.
Fly, celestial tenant, fly!

Where came the soundings of the sea afar,
Borne upward to the ear,

And nearer grew the moon and midnight star,
And God himself more near.

ELIZABETH OAKES SMITH.

Consecration of the House of Prayer.

OD of wisdom, GoD of might,

GOD

Father! dearest name of all,

Bow thy throne and bless our rite;

'Tis thy children on thee call.

Glorious ONE! look down from heaven,
Warm each heart and wake each vow;

Unto Thee this house is given;

With thy presence fill it now.

Fill it now! on every soul

Shed the incense of thy grace, While our anthem-echoes roll Round the consecrated place; While thy holy page we read,

While the prayers Thou lovest ascend, While thy cause thy servants plead,— Fill this house, our GOD, our Friend.

Fill it now-O, fill it long!

So, when death shall call us home,
Still to Thee, in many a throng,
May our children's children come.

Bless them, Father, long and late,

Blot their sins, their sorrows dry;
Make this place to them the gate
Leading to thy courts on high.

There, when time shall be no more,
When the feuds of earth are past,
May the tribes of every shore
Congregate in peace at last!
Then to Thee, thou ONE all-wise,
Shall the gather'd millions sing,
Till the arches of the skies

With their hallelujahs ring.

CHARLES SPRAGUE.

Charity.

CHARITY! decent, modest, easy, kind,

Softens the high, and rears the abject mind; Knows with just reins and gentle hand to guide Betwixt vile shame and arbitrary pride;

Not soon provoked, she easily forgives,
And much she suffers, as she much believes.
Soft peace she brings wherever she arrives;
She builds our quiet as she forms our lives;
Lays the rough paths of peevish nature even,
And opens in each heart a little heaven.
Each other gift which God on man bestows,
Its proper bounds and due restriction knows;
To one fixed purpose dedicates its power,
And finishing its act, exists no more.

F

Thus, in obedience to what Heaven decrees,
Knowledge shall fail, and prophecy shall cease;
But lasting Charity's more ample sway,
Nor bound by time, nor subject to decay,
In happy triumph shall for ever live,
Andendless good diffuse, and endless praise receive.
As through the artist's intervening glass,
Our eye observes the distant planets pass,
A little we discover, but allow

That more remains unseen than art can show;
So whilst our mind its knowledge would improve
(Its feeble eye intent on things above,)
High as we may lift our reason up,

By Faith directed, and confirmed by Hope;
Yet are we able only to survey

Dawnings of beams and promises of day.
Heaven's fuller effluence mocks our dazzled sight;
Too great its swiftness, and too strong its light.
But soon the mediate clouds shall be dispelled,
The Sun shall soon be face to face beheld,
In all his robes, with all his glory on,
Seated, sublime, on his meridian throne.

Then constant Faith and holy Hope shall die,
One lost in certainty, and one in joy;
Whilst thou, more happy power, fair Charity,
Triumphant sister, greatest of the three,
Thy office and thy nature still the same,
Lasting thy lamp, and unconsumed thy flame,
Shalt still survive-

Shalt stand before the host of heaven confest,
For ever blessing, and for ever blest.

MATTHEW PRIOR.

Come, Lord! when Grace has made me meet.

LORD, it belongs not to my care,

Whether I die or live;

To live and serve Thee is my share,
And this Thy grace must give.
If life be long, I will be glad,
That I may long obey ;

If short, yet why should I be sad,
That shall have the same pay ?

Christ leads me through no darker rooms
Than He went through before;

He that unto God's kingdom comes

Must enter by this door.

Come, Lord! when grace has made me meet

Thy blessed face to see;

For if Thy work on earth be sweet,

What must Thy glory be?

Then shall I end my sad complaints,

And weary, sinful days,

And join with the triumphant saints,
That sing Jehovah's praise.
My knowledge of that life is small,
The eye of faith is dim ;

But 'tis enough that Christ knows all,

And I shall be with Him.

BAXTER.

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