3 How mildly on the wandering cloud,
The sunset beam is cast!
'Tis like the memory left behind,
When loved ones breathe their last.
4 And now, above the dews of night,
The yellow star appears;
So faith springs in the hearts of those
Whose eyes are bathed in tears.
5 But soon the morning's happier light,
Its glories shall restore:
And eyelids that are sealed in death,
Shall ope to close no more.
[10s & 11s.]
TUNE-" Folsom."
1 BRIGHTEST and best of the sons of the morning,
Dawn on our darkness and lend us thine aid;
Star of the East, the horizon adorning,
Guide where our infant Redeemer is laid.
2 Cold on his cradle the dew-drops are shining,
Low lies his head with the beasts of the stall;
Angels adore him, in slumber reclining,
Maker, and Monarch, and Saviour of all.
3 Say, shall we yield him in costly devotion,
Odors of Edom, and offerings divine?
Gems of the mountain, and pearls of the ocean,
Myrrh from the forest, or gold from the mine?
4 Vainly we offer each ample oblation,
Vainly with gifts would his favor secure :
Richer by far is the heart's adoration,
Dearer to God are the prayers of the poor.
BP. HEBER.*
The River of Love.
TUNE-" Hamburg.” “Ashford."
[L. M.]
1 THERE is a pure, a peaceful wave,
That rolls around the throne of love;
Whose waters gladden as they lave
The bright and heavenly shores above.
2 While streams which on that tide depend,
Steal from those heavenly shores away,
And on the desert world descend,
Over our barren land to stray.
3 The Pilgrim faint, and near to sink,
Beneath his load of earthly wo,
Refreshed beneath its verdant brink,
Rejoices in its gentle flow.
4 There, oh my soul, do thou repose,
And hover o'er the hallowed spring,
To drink the crystal wave; and there
To lave thy wounded, weary wing.
5 It may be that the waft of love
Some leaves on that pure tide hath driven,
Which passing from the shores above
Hath floated down to us from heaven.
* This truly excellent divine and poet was born at Malpas, Eng.,
April 21, 1783, and died at Calcutta in 1826. "Wherever the Eng-
lish language is known, his beautiful poems are cherished, not only
for their surpassing poetical merits, but for the pure spirit of devo-
tion of which they are the utterance."
6 So shall thy wants and woes be healed,
By the blest influence they bring,
So thy parched lips shall be unsealed,
Thy Saviour's worthy name to sing.
[11s & 10s.]
TUNE-" Come, ye Disconsolate."
1 COME, ye disconsolate, where'er you languish ; Come, at the shrine of God, fervently kneel; Here bring your wounded hearts, here tell your
anguish;
Earth hath no sorrow that heaven cannot heal.
1
2 Joy of the comfortless, light of the straying,
Hope when all others die, fadeless and pure;
Here speaks the Comforter, in God's name saying,
"Earth hath no sorrow that heaven cannot cure.
ANON.
[C. M.]
1 THE bird let loose in eastern skies,
When hastening fondly home,
Ne'er stoops to earth her wing, nor flies
Where idle warblers roam.
TUNE-" Elliot," by Mehul.
2 But high she shoots through air and light,
Above all low delay,
Where nothing earthly bounds her flight,
Nor shadows dim her way.
3 So grant me, God, from every care
And stain of passion free,
Aloft through virtue's purer air
To hold my course to Thee;
4 No sin to cloud, no lure to stay
My soul, as home she springs;
Thy sunshine on her joyful way,
Thy freedom in her wings.
[7s.]
1 GENTLY glides the stream of life,
Oft along the flowery vale,
Or impetuous, down the cliff;
Rushing roars, when storms assail.
2 'Tis an ever-varied flood,
Always rolling to its sea,
Slow, or swift, or mild, or rude,
Tending to eternity.
Vide Nason's "Vocal Class Book," p. 89.
1 FAR from mortal cares retreating,
Sordid hopes and vain desires,
Here, our willing footsteps meeting,
Every heart to heaven aspires.
From the fount of glory beaming,
Light celestial cheers our eyes;
Mercy from above proclaiming
Peace and pardon from the skies.
2 Who may share this great salvation?
Every pure and humble mind;
Every kindred tongue and nation,
From the stains of guilt refined.
Blessings all around bestowing,
God withholds his care from none,
Grace and mercy ever flowing
From the fountain of His throne.
MISS JANE TAYLOR.*
[78.]
1 WHEN shall we all meet again?
When shall we all meet again?
Oft shall glowing hope expire,
Oft shall wearied love retire,
Oft shall death and sorrow reign,
Ere we all shall meet again.
2 Though in distant lands we sigh,
Parched beneath the hostile sky;
Though the deep between us rolls,
Friendship shall unite our souls;
And in fancy's wide domain,
There shall we all meet again.
3 When the dreams of life are fled,
When its wasted lamps are dead,
When in cold oblivion's shade,
Beauty, wealth and fame are laid,
Where immortal spirits reign,
There may we all meet again!
*This highly amiable and intellectual lady was the daughter of the Rev. Mr. Taylor of Colchester She was born in 1783, and lived until April 1823. Her "Poems for Infant Minds," and 66 Rhymes for the Nursery," have rendered her name a general favorite with the young.
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