CXXVIII. THE FOLDED LAMB.

Isaiah xl. 2.

REST for the little sleeper!

Joy for the ransom'd soul! Peace for the lonely weeper, Dark though the waters roll.

Weep for the little sleeper;
Weep-it will ease thine heart,
Though the dull pain be deeper
Than with the world to part.

Mighty the conflict in her!

How could she face the foe?

Rugged the road before her,
How could the weak one go?

She could not climb the mountain;
She could not face the foe,
Lying between life's fountain,
And this dark vale below.

But the kind Shepherd found her,

Laid her upon His breast,

Folded His arms around her,
Hushed her to endless rest.

He bore her up the mountain;
He trampled down the foe;
He laid her by the fountain,
Whence the still waters flow.

Joy, for the little sleeper,
The gentle, timid lamb,
Safe with her tender Keeper,

Could there be sweeter balm ?

As the dread hour came nearer,
Closer the tendril clung,
Growing each moment dearer,

Though the heart's core was rung.

Oh! what are earth's best pleasures,
Sickening the woe-struck heart?

What all its joys and treasures,
When with the loved we part?

But the long wished-for token,
Earnest of peaceful rest,
Binds up the heart that's broken,
Soothes the distracted breast.

Do not, then, droop in sadness,
Dark though the night may be;
There's a bright morn of gladness,
Mourner, reserved for thee!

Yet shall thy loved one greet thee,
Smiling in heaven's own light;
Joying once more to meet thee
Where there can be no blight.

Grieve not with hopeless sorrow,
Jesus has felt thy pain;
Thy child He did but borrow,
He'll bring her back again,

Peace, little loving sleeper,
Close to thy Saviour's side,
Housed with thy tender Keeper,
Safe, for "the Lord has died!"

R. H.

CXXIX. PSALM LXI. 2.

THESE are overwhelming troubles—troubles which sweep over a man, just as the mighty waves of the ocean sweep over and submerge the sands. These are troubles which struggle with us, as it were, for life and death; troubles which would leave us helpless wrecks; troubles which enter into conflict with us in our prime, which grapple with us in our health and strength, and threaten to conquer us by sheer force, no matter how bravely we contend. Such trouble the Psalmist knew:— "When my heart is overwhelmed, lead me to the Rock that is higher than I." It is not, however, in this class of trouble alone that we have need to take up the Psalmist's determination, and say, "I will cry unto Thee." There is but one refuge in trouble, small or great, and if we seek any other, we shall assuredly increase our distress; He who

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is our refuge in the greater, will not refuse to be our refuge in the lesser also; the same love that will befriend us in the overwhelmings of trouble, will not cast us off in the time of perplexities and provocations.

REV. P. B. POWER.-'I Wills' of the Psalms.

CXXX.

Go forth among those whom God has given to love you and to be beloved, and for every soul-thrilling glance, for every kindly sympathy and tender word, for all sweet counsel and precious unity, thank Him without whose love all earthly sympathies would have been but a name, all earthly tenderness would have been but as the foolishness of idolatry. Go back, in memory, to the days of "long ago;' recall the wind tempered to the shorn lamb; the strong wave of temptation breasted; the hurtful thing, to which your soul clung, removed out of your path; the right way.