JESUS! at Thy command,

I launch into the deep,

And leave my native land,

Where sin lulls all asleep:

For Thee I would the world resign,

And sail to heaven with Thee and thine.

Thou art my pilot wise;
My compass is thy word:
My soul each storm defies,
While I have such a Lord.
I trust thy faithfulness and power
To save me in the trying hour.

Though rocks and quicksands deep
Through all my passage lie,
Yet Christ will safely keep,

And guide me with his eye:
My anchor, hope, shall firm abide,
And I each boisterous storm outride.

By faith I see the land—

The port of endless rest;
My soul, thy sails expand,

And fly to Jesus' breast!

Oh, may I reach the heavenly shore, Where winds and waves distress no more!

Whene'er becalmed I lie,

And storms forbear to toss,
Be Thou, dear Lord! still nigh,
Lest I should suffer loss;

For more the treacherous calm I dread,
Than tempests bursting o'er my head.

Come, heavenly wind, and blow
A prosperous gale of grace,

THE SAILOR'S HYMN FOR THE NEW YEAR. 225

To waft from all below

To heaven, my destined place! Then, in full sail, my port I'll find,

And leave the world and sin behind.

TOPLADY.

THE SAILOR'S HYMN FOR THE NEW YEAR.

WHEN blood-sprinkled Israel, commencing their flight,

In Egypt left palace and hovel in tears,

To save from oblivion that freedom-fraught night, God marked it the first in the round of their

years.

Oh! thus, while I hail the New Year's dawning

morn,

May I spurn Satan's yoke and disdain his control; And walk as a freeman to holiness born,

Since my Passover bled to deliver my soul!

I traverse the ocean he filled with his blood,
And leave in its billows the enemy's band;
While heaven gives its manna and Horeb his flood,
I journey with hope to my bright Fatherland.

When round me the clouds of adversity lour,

The rays of the Pillar the gloom will pervade;

P

O'er the sun of prosperity's withering power,
The Column will cast its refrigerant shade.

The voice of our Captain will strengthen my heart, I fearless shall follow though thousands combine; The buckler of faith will extinguish each dart, And the sword of the Spirit with terror will shine.

And, oh! when I stand on the verge of the stream That flows through the valley and shadow of death,

On

my soul may the smile of my Saviour beam, And triumph exhaust my last effort of breath! J. LONGMUIR,

THE FIRST VOYAGE.

He stood upon the sandy beach,
And watched the dancing foam;
He gazed upon the leaping waves,
Which soon would be his home.

And then he eyed his sailor's garb,
With look of proud delight;
The flowing kerchief round his neck,
The trowsers wide and white.

THE FIRST VOYAGE.

The rose of health was on his cheek,

His forehead fair as day;

Hope played within his hazel eye,
And told his heart was gay.

And many a time the sturdy boy
Longed for the hour to come,
Which gave the hammock for his couch,
The ocean for his home.

And now the gallant ship rides nigh,
The wind is fair and free,
The busy hands have trimmed her sails,
She stems the open sea :

The boy again is on the beach,

A mother's arms have pressed him,

A sister's hand is linked in his,
A father's lip hath blessed him.

The eyes that lately sparkled bright
Are swollen with many a tear;
young heart feels a choking pang
To part from all so dear.

His

Another kiss-another sob,

And now the struggle's o'er, He springs into the tiny boat, And pushes from the shore.

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