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365

O SAVIOUR, WHOSE MERCY. Let goodness and mercy, my bountiful God! Still follow my steps till I meet thee above: I seek, by the path which my forefathers trod Through the land of their sojourn, thy kingdom of love. JAMES MONTGOMERY.

O Saviour! whose Mercy.

SAVIOUR! whose mercy, severe in its kindness, Hath chastened my wanderings and guided my way, Adored be the power that illumined my blindness, And weaned me from phantoms that smiled to betray.

Enchanted with all that was dazzling and fair,

I followed the rainbow, I caught at the toy; And still in displeasure thy goodness was there, Disappointing the hope and defeating the joy.

The blossom blushed bright, but a worm was below;
The moonlight shone fair, there was blight in the beam;
Sweet whispered the breeze-but it whispered of woe;
And bitterness flowed in the soft-flowing stream.

So cured of my folly, yet cured but in part,
I turned to the refuge thy pity displayed;

And still did this eager and credulous heart

Weave visions of promise that bloomed but to fade.

I thought that the course of the pilgrim to heaven
Would be bright as the summer, and glad as the morn :—
Thou show'dst me the path; it was dark and uneven,
All rugged with rock, and all tangled with thorn.

I dreamed of celestial rewards and renown,

I grasped at the triumph that blesses the brave;
I asked for the palm-branch, the robe and the crown,
I asked-and thou show'dst me a cross and a grave!

Subdued and instructed, at length to thy will
My hopes and my wishes I freely resign;
O, give me a heart that can wait and be still,
Nor know of a wish or a pleasure but thine.

There are mansions exempted from sin and from woe,
But they stand in a region by mortals untrod;
There are rivers of joy, but they roll not below;
There is rest, but 'tis found in the bosom of God.

SIR ROBERT GRANT.

Tempted like as we are."
WHEN gathering clouds around I view,

And days are dark, and friends are few,
On Him I lean, who not in vain
Experienced every human pain :

He sees my wants, allays my fears,
And counts and treasures up my tears.

If aught should tempt my soul to stray
From heavenly wisdom's narrow way,
To fly the good I would pursue,
Or do the ill I would not do,

Still He who felt temptation's power
Shall guard me in that dangerous hour.

If wounded love my bosom swell,
Deceived by those I prized too well,
He shall his pitying aid bestow
Who felt on earth severer woe;
At once betrayed, denied, or fled,
By those who shared his daily bread.

"CAN FIND OUT GOD?"

If vexing thoughts within me rise,
And sore dismayed my spirit dies,
Still he who once vouchsafed to bear
The sickening anguish of despair
Shall sweetly soothe, shall gently dry,
The throbbing heart, the streaming eye.

When sorrowing o'er some stone I bend,
Which covers what was once a friend,
And from his voice, his hand, his smile,
Divides me for a little while,-

Thou, Saviour, mark'st the tears I shed,
For thou didst weep o'er Lazarus dead!

And oh, when I have safely past
Through every conflict but the last,
Still, still unchanging, watch beside
My dying bed, for thou hast died;
Then point to realms of cloudless day,
And wipe the latest tear away.

SIR ROBERT GRANT.

367

I

66

Can find out God?"

CANNOT find thee! Still on restless pinion

My spirit beats the void where thou dost dwell:

I wander lost through all thy vast dominion,
And shrink beneath thy Light ineffable.

I cannot find thee! Even when, most adoring,
Before thy shrine I bend in lowliest prayer,
Beyond these bounds of thought, my thought upsoaring,

From furthest quest comes back: Thou art not there.

Yet high above the limits of my seeing,

And folded far within the inmost heart,
And deep below the deeps of conscious being,
Thy splendor shineth: there, O God! thou art.

I cannot lose thee! Still in thee abiding,

The end is clear, how wide soe'er I roam;

The Law that holds the worlds my steps is guiding,
And I must rest at last in thee, my home.

ELIZA SCUDDER.

Faith.

WE will not weep: for God is standing by us,

And tears will blind us to the blessèd sight: We will not doubt, if darkness still doth try us, Our souls have promise of serenest light.

We will not faint, if heavy burdens bind us,
They press no harder than our souls can bear;
The thorniest way is lying still behind us,
We shall be braver for the past despair.

O not in doubt shall be our journey's ending;
Sin with its fears shall leave us at the last:
All its best hopes in glad fulfillment blending,
Life shall be with us when the Death is past.

Help us, O Father! when the world is pressing
On our frail hearts, that faint without their friend;
Help us, O Father! let thy constant blessing
Strengthen our weakness-till the joyful end.

W. H. HURLBURT.

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Through the silence, down the spaces, falling on the inward

ear.

Know we not our dead are looking
Downward, as in sad surprise,

All our strife of words rebuking

With their mild and earnest eyes?

Shall we grieve the holy angels, shall we cloud their blessed skies?

Let us draw their mantles o'er us,

Which have fallen in our way:

Let us do the work before us

Calmly, bravely, while we may,

Ere the long night-silence cometh, and with us it is not day!

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"L'

Dum vivimus, vivamus."

IVE while you live!" the epicure would say,

"And seize the pleasures of the present day!" "Live while you live!" the sacred Preacher cries, "And give to God each moment as it flies !" Lord, in my view let both united be, I live in pleasure while I live to thee.

PHILIP DODDridge.

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