STRENGTH.

STRENGTH is promised, strength is given,

When the heart by God is riven;
But foredate the day of woe,

And alone thou bearest the blow.

CHARITY.

TRUE Charity, a plant divinely nursed,
Fed by the love from which it rose at first,
Thrives against hope, and in the rudest scene,
Storms but enliven its unfading green;
Exuberant is the shadow it supplies,

Its fruits on earth, its growth above the skies.

COWPER.

THE DEATH OF MOSES.

THY love, a sea without a shore,
Spread life and joy abroad;
Oh! 'tis a heaven worth dying for
To see a smiling God.

Sweet was the journey to the sky
The wondrous prophet trod;

"Climb up the Mount," says God, "and die;" The prophet climbed and died.

Softly his fainting head he lay
Upon his Maker's breast;
His Maker kissed his soul away,*
And laid his flesh to rest.

In God's own arms he left the breath
That God's own spirit gave,
His was the noblest road to death,
And his the sweetest grave.

THIS WORLD IS BUT THE RUGGED
ROAD.

THIS world is but the rugged road
Which leads us to the bright abode
Of peace above;

So let us choose that narrow way,
Which leads no traveller's foot astray
From realms of love.

From "Coplas de Manrique," translated by
Longfellow.

*The Jewish legend was, that God drew forth Moses's soul by a kiss.

NIGHT HYMN AT SEA.

NIGHT sinks on the wave,

Hollow gusts are sighing,
Sea-birds to their cave

Through the gloom are flying ;
Oh! should storms come sweeping,
Thou in heaven unsleeping,
O'er Thy children vigil keeping,
Hear, hear, and save!

Stars look o'er the sea,

Few and sad, and shrouded;

Faith our light must be

When all else is clouded.

Thou, whose voice came thrilling,

Wind and billow stilling,

Speak once more! our prayer fulfilling

Power dwells with Thee.

MRS HEMANS.

SUFFERING.

O LIFE, O Death, O World, O Time,
O Grave where all things flow,
'Tis yours to make our lot sublime
With your great weight of woe.

Though sharpest anguish hearts may wring,
Though bosoms torn may be,
Yet suffering is a holy thing;

Without it what were we

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ARCHBISHOP TRENCH.

THE FATHER'S ROD.

EZEKIEL XX. 37.

I SAW the young bride in her beauty and pride,
Bedecked in her snowy array;

And the bright flush of joy mantled high on her cheek,
And the future looked blooming and gay.

With woman's devotion she laid her fond heart

On the shrine of idolatrous love;

She anchored her hopes to this perishing earth
By the chain which her tenderness wove.

But I saw when those heart-strings were bleeding and torn,

And the chain had been severed in two;

She had changed her white robes for the sables of grief,

And the bloom for the paleness of woe.

But the Healer was there, pouring balm on her heart, And wiping the tears from her eyes;

And He strengthened the chain He had severed in twain,

And fastened it firm to the skies.

There had whispered a voice—

'Twas the voice of her God

"I love thee, I love thee;

Pass under the rod !"

I saw a young mother in tenderness bend
O'er the couch of her slumbering boy;

And she kissed the soft lips as they murmured her name,

As the sleeper lay dreaming in joy.

Oh! sweet as the rosebud encircled with dew,
When its fragrance is flung on the air,

So fresh and so bright to the mother he seemed,
As he lay in his innocence there.

But I saw when she gazed on the same lovely form,
Pale as marble, and silent, and cold;

But paler and colder her beautiful boy-
And the tale of her sorrow was told.

But the Healer was there, who had smitten her heart,
And taken her treasure away:

To allure her to heaven, He has placed it on high,
And the mourner will sweetly obey.

There had whispered a voice

"Twas the voice of her God

"I love thee, I love thee;

Pass under the rod !"

I saw when a father and mother had leaned
On the arms of a dear cherished son ;
And the star in the future grew bright to their gaze,
As they saw the proud place he had won.

And the fastcoming evening of life promised fair,
And the pathway grew smooth to their feet,

And the star-light of love glimmered bright at the end,
And the whispers of fancy were sweet.