WHILE in my garden's calm retreat,
I am in contemplation led,
And while all its loved attractions,
O'er my mind their influence shed,
Other gardens
I, in spirit, often tread.
First, I enter Eden's garden,
Yielding peace, and warning too;
Adam here, while sinless standing,
Nought of fear or sorrow knew :
But what changes
Did from his offence ensue.
Then, with grateful faith reviving,
To Gethsemane I go,
And approach beneath its shadows,
Jesus bearing all my woe:
From his anguish
All my hopes of safety flow.
In the garden where they laid him,
With the Marys oft I sit,
Weeping till I see him rising,
Then draw nigh with joyful feet.
King of terrors!
Now thy coming I can meet !
In the church, the Saviour's garden,
Trees, and herbs, and flowers, I see;
Guarded, watered, trained, and cherished,
Plants of immortality.
All, O Calvary!
All their vigour comes from thee.
But above all gardens precious,
See the heavenly paradise;
There the tree of life is growing,
There the springs of glory rise,
And their fulness
Every want and wish supplies.
There, shall no thorn e'er pierce the breast;
There, the heart ne'er heaves a sigh;
There, we hope to walk with Jesus;
All our loved connexions by:
And to reach it,
'Tis a privilege to die.
WHEN morning comes, the birds arise,
And tune their voices to the skies;
With warbling notes and cheerful lays,
They sing their great Creator's praise.
my chamber go, Or any work presume to do,
Before I've sought the God of heaven,
And my first morning tribute given.
Come then, my soul, awake and pray,
And praise thy Maker ev'ry day;
Bless Him for raiment, health, and food;
Bless him for Christ, our chiefest good.
Lest ev'ry bird's harmonious song,
Reproach me as I walk along,
Thoughtless of Him whose guardian power
Upholds and saves me every hour.
GENTLE reader, see in me,
An emblem of true charity:
That while my bounty I bestow,
I'm neither heard nor seen to flow;
And I have fresh supplies from heaven,
For every cup of water given.
BISHOP HOADLEY.
THE VOICE OF GOD.
"And he said I heard thy voice in the garden and was afraid."- Gen. iii. 10.
AMIDST the thrilling leaves, thy voice,
At evening's fall, drew near :-
Father! and did not man rejoice
That blessed sound to hear?
Did not his heart within him burn
Touched by the solemn tone?
Not so!-for never to return,
Its purity was gone.
Therefore, midst holy stream and bower,
His spirit shook with dread,
And called the cedars, in that hour,
To veil his conscious head.
Oh! in each wind, each fountain flow,
Each whisper of the shade,
Grant me, my God, thy voice to know,
And not to be afraid.
THE SAVIOUR.
THOU art the way, and he who sighs
Amid this cheerless waste of woe,
To find a pathway to the skies,
In thee the light of heaven shall know.
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