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THE MARINER'S HYMN.

LAUNCH thy bark, mariner! Christian, God speed thee,
Let loose the rudder bands! good angels lead thee!
Set thy sails warily, tempests will come;

Steer thy course steadily! Christian, steer home!

Look to the weatherbow, breakers are round thee!
Let fall the plummet now, shallows may ground thee!
Reef in the foresail there! hold the helm fast!
So-let the vessel ware! there swept the blast.
What of the night, watchman? what of the night?
"Cloudy-all quiet-no land yet―all's right.”
Be wakeful, be vigilant, danger may be

At an hour when all seems securest to thee.

How gains the leak so fast? clear out the hold,
Hoist up the merchandise-heave out the gold!
There-let the ingots go! now the ship rights;
Hurrah! the harbour's near,-lo, the red lights.

Slacken not sail yet at inlet or island,

Straight for the beacon steer-straight for the highland; Crowd all thy canvas on, cut through the foam, Christian, cast anchor now! Heaven is thy home!

MRS SOUTHEY.

THEE, ONLY THEE.

HE speaks! the gracious words I hear;
Gently He bids me now draw near ;

He calls me, and I know His tone,
'Tis love that speaks, and love alone,
I would not wait, but come!

No more earth's siren song has charms
To lure me to the siren's arms;
Saviour, thou callest, and I come,

Thy cross my guide, my star, my home.
I rise and follow Thee.

Thou art my all, above, below;

Let every earthly idol go;

My God and Lord, to Thee I come,
My treasure and my song; for whom
Have I in heaven but Thee?

Oh, speak again, oh, speak each hour,
Speak in Almighty love and power;
Speak to this faithless, trustless heart,
Bid doubt and unbelief depart,

And let me cleave to Thee !

BONAR.

CHILDHOOD.

THERE are who think that childhood does not share

With age, the cup, the bitter cup of care;
Alas! they know not this unhappy truth,
That every age and rank is born to ruth.
From the first dawn of reason to the mind,
Man is foredoomed the thorns of grief to find;
At every step has farther cause to know,
The draught of pleasure still is dashed with woe.
KIRKE WHITE.

LIGHT BEYOND.

Oн, in this world lies much of sadness,
Care and sorrow, pain and tears;
I hear them speak of light and gladness,
That hope beats high for coming years;
Child of sorrow,-heavy laden,

Put thy griefs and cares away,
Look not back, 'twill crush thy spirit,
There's evening-light for every day.

Onward, upward, ever-rising,

In our thoughts, beyond the sky,
There's a home for all the weary,
Resting-time is very nigh.
Child of sorrow,--broken-hearted,
Weeping for the loved and true;
Only for a short time parted,

Now in heaven they watch for you.

Rouse thee, mourner; quell thy sorrow,
We have each our work on earth to do;
To-day is ours, the coming morrow

No more on earth may wake for you ;
And soon no parting, grief, or sadness
E'er can mar our songs again :
In that home of heavenly gladness
We shall join the angels' strain.

MRS D'ARCY.

DIVERS GIFTS.

GREAT offices will have

Great talents and God gives to every man
The virtue, temper, understanding, taste,
That lifts him into life and lets him fall
Just in the niche he was ordained to fill.
To the deliverer of an injured land

He gives a tongue to enlarge upon, a heart
To free, and courage to redress her wrongs;
To monarchs dignity; to judges sense;
To artists ingenuity and skill."

COWPER.

SUSPIRIA.

TAKE them, O Death! and bear away
Whatever thou canst call thine own!
Thine image, stamped upon this clay,
Doth give thee that, but that alone!

Take them, O Grave! and let them lie
Folded upon thy narrow shelves,
As garments by the soul laid by,
And precious only to ourselves!

Take them, O great Eternity!
Our little life is but a gust,
That bends the branches of thy tree,

And trails its blossoms in the dust.

LONGFELLOW.

"HIMSELF HATH DONE IT."

"HIMSELF hath done it all.”—Oh, how these words
Should hush to silence every murmuring thought!
"Himself hath done it."-He who loves me best,
He who my soul with His own blood hath bought.
"Himself hath done it."-Can it then be aught
Than full of wisdom, full of tenderest love?
Not one unneeded sorrow will He send

To teach this wandering heart no more to rove.
"Himself hath done it."-Yes, although severe
May seem the stroke, and bitter be the cup,
Tis His own hand that holds it, and I know
He'll give me grace to drink it meekly up.

"Himself hath done it."-Oh, no arm but His

Could e'er sustain beneath earth's dreary lot;
But while I know He's doing all things well,
My heart His loving-kindness questions not.
"Himself hath done it."-He who searched me through
Sees how I cling to earth's ensnaring ties!
And so He breaks each reed on which my soul
Too much for happiness and joy relies.

"Himself hath done it."-He would have me see
What broken cisterns human friends must prove,
That I may turn and quench my burning thirst
At His own fount of ever-living love.

"Himself hath done it."-Then I fain would say,
"Thy will in all things evermore be done;"
E'en though that will remove whom best I love,
While Jesus lives I cannot be alone.

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