I TURNED me to an ancient rock
That breasts the oceau's track,
And saw it brave the billow's shock,
Then send them foaming back.
Fixed to this hard enduring bed
A small sea-plant I spied,
Which flourished there, and cheerly spread 1ts tresses o'er the tide.
And when the waves came rolling on,
Above the surge it rose,
Or clung more closely to the stone,
To wait the tempest's close.
Thus true amidst a world of strife,
Unshaken by its breath,
May faithful friendship crown my life,
Nor quit my side at death!
Yet say, upon what hallowed ground
Can deathless friendship be?
Thou Rock of ages! let us found
Our friendships firm in Thee.
MARY AT THE SEPULCHRE.
How sweet in the musing of faith to repair
To the garden where Mary delighted to rove; To sit by the tomb where she breathed her fond prayer,
And paid her sad tribute of sorrow and love. To see the bright beam which disperses her fear, As the Lord of her soul breaks the bar of his
And the voice of the angel salutes her glad ear,-
The Lord is a captive no more-"He is risen."
O Saviour! as oft as our footsteps we bend,
In penitent sadness to weep at thy grave,
On the wings of thy greatness in pity descend,
Be ready to comfort and "mighty to save."
We shrink not from scenes of desertion and wo,
If there we may meet with the Lord whom we
love;
Contented, with Mary, to sorrow below
If with her, we may drink of thy fountains above. CUNNINGHAM.
THE END OF AFFLICTION.
THE gloom of the night adds a charm to the morn,
Stern winter the spring-time endears,
And the darker the cloud on which it is drawn,
The brighter the rainbow appears.
So trials and sorrows the Christian prepare
For the rest that remaineth above;
On earth tribulation awaits him; but there
The smile of unchangeable love.
How vain the effort to erect
A temple meet for Thee, Most High!
Though earth the verdant floor had decked,
And heaven had spread its canopy:
No limit can thy presence know,
No earthly house thy glory shew.
And yet 'twas in an humble shed
The wandering shepherds found their king ;
The lowly manger was thy bed,
Whose praise angelic myriads sing;
No meaner shrine exists on earth,
Than that ennobled by thy birth.
When, trembling to an upper room
Thy feeble infant church withdrew,
When all was doubt, when all was gloom;
Thou, our e'erliving head, didst shew
That where but two or three appear,
Met in thy name, Thou wilt be there.
Then come! Assembled in thy name,
To dedicate this house to thee,
Thy promise, Saviour, would we claim,
Thy word, thy truth, our warranty;
Fulfil the pledge that thou hast given
That prayer from earth shall enter heaven!
R. W. KYLE.
THERE is no flock, however watched and tended,
But one dead lamb is there;
There is no fire-side, howsoe'er defended,
But has one vacant chair.
The air is full of farewells to the dying,
And mourners for the dead;
The heart of Rachel, for her children crying,
Will not be comforted.
Let us be patient! these severe afflictions
Not from the ground arise;
But oftentimes celestial benedictions
Assume this dark disguise.
We see but dimly through the mists and vapours,
Amidst these earthly damps;
What seem to us but dim funereal tapers,
May be Heaven's distant lamps.
They are not dead! the lambs of our affection, But gone into that school,
Where they no longer need our poor protection, And Christ himself doth rule
THE SAVIOUR'S INVITATION.
COME, says Jesus' sacred voice,
Come and make my paths your choice,
I will guide you to your home;
Weary pilgrim, hither come!
Hither come, for here is fonnd
Balm that flows for every wound;
Peace that ever shall endure;
Rest eternal, sacred, sure!
Ye who, houseless, sad, forlorn,
Long have borne the world's proud scorn;
Long have roam'd this barren waste;
Wearypilgrims, hither haste!
Ye who tost on beds of pain,
Seek for rest, but seek in vain ;
Ye whose swollen and sleepless eyes
Long to see the morning rise;
Ye by fiercer anguish torn,
Who the load of sin have borne ;
Here repose your heavy care:
A wounded spirit who can bear?
Hither come for here is found
Balm that flows for every wound;
Peace that ever shall endure;
Rest eternal, sacred, sure.
MRS. BARBAULD.
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