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The Christian's " sure and certain hope," his breast
With fullest, happiest confidence inspires ;

Till on his heart Death's icy hand is press'd,
And the last feeble pulse of life expires;
Then to his heavenly dwelling he aspires;
Freed from all ills, and permanently blest
With full fruition of his large desires;

With

peace unbroken, and a state of rest More perfect than by mortal tongue can be express'd.

ON THE HOLY SCRIPTURES.

(Written in the year 1824.)

Volume, of origin divine! thy page
Doth not with man ambiguous converse hold-
As did the mystic oracles of old-

In dark enigmas, which the learn'd and sage
Might fail to interpret: but in every age,
To all who seek its counsel, it doth speak
In language which the unletter'd and the weak
May clearly apprehend and doth engage-
Though scoffing infidels against it rage-
To teach poor erring man the way of truth:
To be his guide and counsellor in youth,
And his support when the brief pilgrimage
Of mortal life, with all its cares and woes,
Is rapidly advancing to its close.

"There remaineth therefore a rest to the people of God."Hebrews, c. 4, v. 9.

(Revised from a copy printed in the Intellectual Repository, for September, 1831.)

There remaineth a rest in the skies-
A home for the good and the just;

And thither with gladness they rise,

When their bodies go down to the dust.
What a moment! how wondrously strange !
With holiest rapture replete,

When the labours of time they exchange
For the rest of that peaceful retreat.

When, soaring from earth, they survey
The storms and the turmoil below;
And are conscious they're passing away
From scenes of confusion and woe.
What a tide of ecstatic delight,

Flows in and pervades all their pow'rs,
As they hold on their mystical flight,
To a lovelier region than ours:

To a land of unbroken repose-
Of unfading beauty and bloom:
Of pleasures that never shall close,
And light, never shaded by gloom.
As the eagle in chase of its prey;

Or a ray from the fountain of light:
So swiftly they traverse the way
That leads to that land of delight.

There glory breaks on them, too bright
To be seen by mortality's eye-
Ere that splendour can burst on the sight,
The body must languish and die.
And who would not die, to obtain

A share in such glory and bliss?
And who would not labour, to gain
A rest so enduring as this?

(Written in 1835.)

He who, with patient care and gentle hand,
Attempts to rear a frail, yet lovely flow'r :
And sees it fade and die e'er comes its hour
Of full development, may understand

Somewhat-though feebly-of the nameless pain
By parents felt, who, when by death despoil'd
Of children, for whose sakes they long had toil'd,
Seem, as these wither, to have toil'd in vain.
Yet, let him not regard their care as lost;
For-though the flow'ret dies to live no more-
Children, when death's short wintry time is o'er,.
Revive, in that fair clime where the keen frost
Blights not, nor chills; nor one of earth's fierce

storms

Assails their beautiful and fadeless forms.

A PRAYER.

Thou, who wast, ere time began,
Destin'd to deliver man

From a state of mental thrall,

And the ruins of the fall:

Lo! for help I come to Thee-
Let me thy salvation see.

Thou alone canst strength impart
To the faint and sinking heart;
At thy bidding all is peace—
Pain, and care, and sorrow cease;
And the most unquiet breast
Finds relief, and sinks to rest.

From the passions, weak and vile,
Which the human heart defile,
Thou hast power to set it free;
And, with heav'n-born purity,
Each affection so refine,
As to make it half-divine.

Whither, then, should I repair?
Or to whom address my pray'r,
But to Thee-all-gracious One?
Thou canst help, and Thou alone :
Thou from thraldom canst release-
Thou canst bid me 66
go in peace."

Let me now thy mercy prove;
Evil from my heart remove;
Set me free from ev'ry snare-
Make me thy blest image bear:
And assist me by thy grace,

Till I end my earthly race.

Then, when life's brief day is o'er-
When I dwell on earth no more-
Be it mine to dwell above,

In a realm of light and love:
Let me there, with spirits blest,

Find a home, and be at rest.

Genesis, chap. 3, verses 8 and 9.

In Eden's quiet groves, at even-tide,
Man heard Jehovah's voice, and was afraid :
That voice, once heard with gladness, now dismay'd
His fearful heart; and anxiously he tried

Among the cluster'd trees himself to hide :
But vain were all his efforts, for e'en here,

The stern demand, 'Where art thou?' reach'd his ear,
And forth he came, his sentence to abide.
Futile were all his arts to turn aside

The doom he had incurr'd: each plea was vain—

For he had sinn'd, and merited the pain
And mis'ry due to him, who, in the pride
And folly of his heart, presumes to break
The law divine, and its blest paths forsake.

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