For still this sea of life, with endless wailing, Dashes above our heads its blinding spray, And vanquished hearts, sick with remorse and failing,

Moan like the waves at set of autumn day.

And ever round us swells the insatiate ocean
Of sin and doubt that lures us to our grave;
When its wild billows, with their mad commotion,
Would sweep us down- - then only Thou canst

save.

And deep and dark the fearful gloom unlighted
Of that untried and all-surrounding sea,

On whose bleak shore arriving — lone benighted, We fall and lose ourselves at last in Thee.

Yea! in Thy life our little lives are ended,

Into Thy depths our trembling spirits fall;

In Thee enfolded, gathered, comprehended,
As holds the sea her waves - - Thou hold'st us all!

ELIZA SCUDder.

DESIRE.

HOU, who dost dwell alone

THO

Thou, who dost know thine own—

Thou to whom all are known

From the cradle to the grave,
Save, oh, save!

From the world's temptations,
From tribulations;

From that fierce anguish

Wherein we languish ;

From that torpor deep

Wherein we lie asleep,

Heavy as death, cold as the grave, — Save, oh, save!

When the Soul, growing clearer,

Sees God no nearer :

When the Soul, mounting higher,

To God comes no nigher :
But the arch-fiend Pride
Mounts at her side,

Foiling her high emprize,
Sealing her eagle eyes,

And, when she fain would soar,

Makes idols to adore;

To a skin-deep sense

Of her own eloquence;

Strong to deceive, strong to enslave Save, oh, save!

From the ingrained fashion

Of this earthly nature

That mars thy creature ;

From grief, that is but passion;
From mirth, that is but feigning;
From tears, that bring no healing;

From wild and weak complaining;
Thine old strength revealing,
Save, oh, save!

From doubt, where all is double :
Where wise men are not strong:
Where comfort turns to trouble:
Where just men suffer wrong:
Where sorrow treads on joy:
Where sweet things soonest cloy:

Where faiths are built on dust:
Where Love is half mistrust,

Hungry, and barren, and sharp as the sea;
Oh, set us free!

O let the false dream fly
Where our sick souls do lie
Tossing continually.

O where thy voice doth come
Let all doubts be dumb:

Let all words be mild:

All strifes be reconciled:

All pains beguiled.

Light bring no blindness;

Love no unkindness;

Knowledge no ruin;

Fear no undoing.

From the cradle to the grave,

Save, oh, save!

MATTHEW ARNOLD.

DENIAL.

HE two best gifts in all the perfect world

THE

Lie in two close-shut hands;

The hands rest even on the outstretched knees

Like those stone forms the wildered traveller sees In dreamy Eastern lands.

I reach to grasp: but lo! that hand withdraws,
The other forward glides;

The silent gesture says: "This is for thee,
Take now and wait not ever, listlessly,
For changing times and tides."

I take Thou canst not say I took it not!
The record readeth fair.

I take and use, and come again to crave,
With weary hands and feet, but spirit brave –
The same thing lieth there.

So many times! ah me! so many times!
The same hand gives the gift;

And must I, till the evening shadows grow,
Still kneel before an everlasting No,

To see the other lift?

I ask for bread; Thou givest me a stone;
Oh give the other now!

Thou knowest, Thou, the spirit's bitter need,
The day grows sultry as I come to plead
With dust on hand and brow.

Ah fool! Is he not greater than thy heart?
His eyes are kindest still.

And seeing all, He surely knoweth best;
Oh if no other, know the perfect rest
Of yielding to His will.

Perchance - He knows - canst thou not trust His love?

For no expectant eyes

Of something other, full of wild desire
Can watch the burning of the altar fire
Of daily sacrifice.

CALL ON US.

WHEN the enemy is near thee,

Call on us!

In our hands we will upbear thee,
He shall neither scathe nor scare thee,
He shall fly thee, and shall fear thee.

Call on us!

Call when all good friends have left thee,
Of all good sights and sounds bereft thee;
Call when hope and heart are sinking,
And the brain is sick with thinking,

Help, O help!

Call, and following close behind thee

There shall haste, and there shall find thee,
Help, sure help.

S T.