Oh! it is good to soar

These little bolts and bars above,
To Him whose purpose I adore,
Whose providence I love;
And in thy mighty will to find
The joy, the freedom of the mind.
TRANSLATED FROM MADAME GUION.

SWEET-BRIAR.

THOUGH sharp, yet sweet, my leaves declare
How goodly painful trials are,

And keen affliction's blessing;
So He who wore the thorny crown,
Sends with the cross his patience down,
Correcting and caressing.

Oh! seek no bliss but to fulfil,
In life and death, his holy will;
No comforts in thy woe desire,
Save those his promises inspire.
Our years are numbered; let us spare
Our anxious hearts a heedless care;
Tis His to number out our days,
Tis ours to spend them in His praise.

MADAME GUION.

The above were written by Madame Guion during her long imprisonment.

SUPPLICATION.

"If we live in the Spirit, let us walk in the Spirit." Gal. v. 25.

SPIRIT of God! descend upon my heart;
Wean it from earth, through all its pulses move;
Stoop to my weakness, mighty as Thou art,
And make me love Thee as I ought to love.

I ask no dream, no prophet ecstacies,
No sudden rending of the veil of clay;
No angel visitant, no opening skies;

But take the dimness of my soul away.

Hast Thou not bid us love Thee, God and King? All, all thine own-soul, heart, and strength, and mind;

I see thy cross-there teach my heart to cling:
O let me seek Thee, and oh! let me find.

Teach me to feel that Thou art always nigh;
Teach me the struggles of the soul to bear,
To check the rising doubt, the rebel sigh;
Teach me the patience of unauswered prayer.
I know Thee glorious! might and mercy all,
All that commands thy creatures' boundless
praise;

Let not my soul from that high vision fall,

Too cold to worship, and too weak to gaze.

Teach me to love Thee as thine angels love,
One holy passion filling all my frame;
The baptism of the heaven-descended Dove,
My heart an altar, and thy love the flame.

CROLY.

THE SAVIOUR'S PRESENCE DESIRED.

"Abide with us, for it is towards evening, and the day is far spent."-Luke xxiv. 29.

DWELL with us here, thou God of love,
Closely draws on the evening hour,
Amid its shadows let us prove

Thy never-failing care and power.

The day is hastening to depart,

Its beams will soon be wrapped in night;
Fulfil thy promise to our heart,

"At evening time it shall be light."
As on the parched and wearied ground,
Softly descends the welcome dew:
So let thy saving grace abound,

And life and strength to us renew.
The day has faded from our sight,
The sun has sunk beneath the west,
Turn thou our darkness into light,
And bid our troubled spirit rest.
Shew to us then a glorious dawn

Of radiant hues and cloudless skies;
When shall the long expected morn
Burst on our waiting, weary eyes?
Grant us a pure and steadfast faith,

A hope of heaven serene and bright,
Till through the grave and gate of death,
Our faith be lost in glorious sight.

ALPHA.

ON HEARING A CLOCK STRIKE AT MIDNIGHT ON THE 31ST OF

DECEMBER.

KNELL of departed years
Thy voice is sweet to me;
It wakes no sad foreboding fears,
Calls forth no sympathetic tears,
Time's restless course to see;
From hallowed ground

I hear a sound,

Diffusing through the air a holy calm around.

Thou art the voice of LOVE,
To chide each doubt away;
And as the murmur faintly dies,
Visions of past enjoyment rise
In long and bright array;
I hail the sign

That love divine

Will o'er my future path of life in mercy shine,

Thou art the voice of HOPE, The music of the spheresA song of blessings yet to come, A herald from my native home My soul delighted hears; By sin deceived,

By nature grieved,

Still am I nearer rest than when I first believed.

.

Thou art the voice of LIFE;

A sound that seems to say, "O prisoner in this gloomy vale,

Thy flesh shall faint, thy heart shall fail;
Yet fairer scenes thy spirit hail

That cannot pass away;

Here grief and pain

Thy steps detain,

There in the image of the Lord, thou wilt arise

and reign."

THE HOLY COMMUNION.

FORTH from the dark and stormy sky,
Lord, to thine altar's shade we fly;
Forth from the world, its hope and fear,
Saviour, we seek thy shelter here:
Weary and weak thy grace we pray;
Turn not, O Lord, thy guests away !

Long have we roam'd in want and pain,
Long have we sought thy rest in vain;
Wildered in doubt, in darkness lost,
Long have our souls been tempest-tost:
Low at thy feet our sins we lay;
Turn not, O Lord, thy guests away!
BISHOP HEBER.