UNIVERSALITY OF REDEMPTION

YE nations, worship at the call!
Emmanuel comes, to rescue all
From death's relentless doom;
Thou slumbering world, awake and see
Thy life and immortality

In yon poor manger's gloom!

Lay down your worthy offerings here;
The myrrh he loves is sorrow's tear,
O'er conscious guilt distilled;
His frankincense the grateful sigh
Of guilt redeemed from misery-
Thus be his temple filled!

"Peace and good will" to earth he brings, And heaven that hears, in transport sings!

Oh! turn to him alone,

Turk, Heathen, Jew! till heaven behold
One Shepherd, and one spotless fold

Surround Jehovah's throne.

HODGSON.

BLESSED ARE THE DEAD.

O, HOW blest are ye whose toils are ended! Who, through death, have unto God ascended! Ye have arisen

From the cares which keep us still in prison.

We are still as in a dungeon living,

Still oppressed with sorrow and misgiving;
Our undertakings

Are but toils, and troubles, and heart-breakings.

Christ has wiped away your tears forever;

Ye have that for which we still endeavor.
To you are chanted

Songs which yet no mortal ear have haunted.

Ah! who would not, then, depart with gladness,

To inherit heaven for earthly sadness?

Who here would languish

Longer in bewailing and in anguish?

Come, O Christ, and loose the chains that bind us!

Lead us forth, and cast this world behind us.

With thee, th' Anointed,

Finds the soul its joy and rest appointed.

FROM THE GERMAN OF DACH BY LONGfellow.

MAN EVER RESTLESS.

WHEN God at first made man,
Having a fount of blessings standing by,
Let us, said he, pour on him all we can;
Let the world's riches, which disperséd lie,
Contract into a span.

So strength first made a way;

Then beauty flowed, then wisdom, honour, pleasure;
When almost all was out, God made a stay;
Perceiving, that alone, of all his treasure,

Rest, in the bottom lay.

For if I should, said he,

Bestow this jewel also on my creature,

He would adore my gifts instead of me;
And rest in nature, not the God of nature;
So both should losers be.

Yet let him keep the rest,

But keep them with repining restlessness;
Let him be rich, and weary; that at least,
If goodness lead him not, yet weariness
May toss him to my breast.

GEORGE HERBERT, 1593-1632.

ON THE DEATH OF AN INFANT.

WITH what unknown delight the mother smiled,
When this frail treasure in her arms she pressed!

Her prayer was heard, she clasped a living child,

But how the gift transcends the poor request!

A child was all she asked, with many a vow;
Mother, behold the child an angel now!

Now in her Father's house she finds a place;
Or, if to earth she take a transient flight,
'Tis to fulfil the purpose of His grace,

To guide thy footsteps to the world of light; A ministering spirit sent to thee,

That where she is, there thou mayst also be.

JANE TAYLOR.-1733-1823.

VIA CRUCIS, VIA LUCIS.*

THROUGH the cross comes the crown; when the cares of this life

Like giants in strength may to crush thee combine, Never mind, never mind! after sorrow's sad strife,

Shall the peace and the crown of salvation be thine.

Through woe comes delight: if at evening thou sigh,
And thy soul still at midnight in sorrow appears,
Never mind, never mind! for the morning is nigh,
Whose sunbeams of gladness shall dry up thy tears!

Through death comes our life: to the portal of pain,
Through Time's thistle fields are our weary steps

driven;

Never mind, never mind! through this passage we gain The mansions of light and the portals of heaven. FROM THE GERMAN OF KOsegarten.

*The way of the Cross, the way of Light.

MY TIMES ARE IN THY HAND.

My times are in Thy hand!

I know not what a day

Or e'en an hour may bring to me;
But I am safe while trusting Thee,
Though all things fade away.
All weakness, I

On Him rely,

Who fixed the earth and starry sky.

My times are in Thy hand!

Pale poverty or wealth,

Corroding cares or calm repose,

Spring's balmy breath or Winter's snows,

Sickness or buoyant health,

Whate'er betide,

If God provide,

'Tis for the best-I wish no lot beside.

My times are in Thy hand!
Should friendship pure illume
And strew my path with fairest flowers,
Or should I spend life's dreary hours
In solitude's dark gloom,

Thou art a friend

Till time shall end,

Unchangeably the same; in Thee all beauties blend.