THE RAINBOW.

TRIUMPHANT arch that fill'st the sky,
When clouds prepare to part;

I ask not proud philosophy

To teach me what thou art.

When o'er the green undeluged earth, Heaven's covenant thou didst shine, How came the world's grey fathers forth, To watch thy sacred sign.

And when its yellow lustre smiled
O'er mountains yet untrod,
Each mother held aloft her child
To bless the bow of God.

How glorious is thy girdle cast,
O'er mountain, tower, and town;
Or pictured in the ocean vast,
A thousand fathoms down!

As fresh in yon horizon dark,
As young thy features seem,
As when the eagle from the ark
First sported in thy beam.

For faithful to its sacred page,

Heaven still rebuilds thy span,
Nor lets the type grow pale with age,
That first spoke peace to man.

CAMPBELL.

SMALL THINGS.

"Who hath despised the day of small things ?"-Zech. iv, 10.
FROM little seeds sweet flowers spring,
And perfume o'er our pathway fling,
The noble oaks derive their birth
From acorns buried in the earth;
And the bright corn on waving plains
Rose from the tiny scattered grains.

And infant hands may plant the seed,
And from that small and simple deed,
Rich produce shall adorn the ground,
And gladden every heart around;

For God will send the sun and shower
To cherish and refresh the flower.

How small the seed of truth appears;
Oft sown with trembling and with tears;
And yet that precious germ imparts
Fragrance and life to desert hearts;
Nor shall its progress stay until
Its branches the wide world shall fill.

And a child's soft and earnest prayer
Rich blessings may to others bear;
And a child's tract rightly given
May aid in guiding souls to heaven;
And lisping accents may proclaim
The sweetness of a Saviour's name.

A THOUGHT ON BEREAVEMENT.

Heb. xii. 10.

SLEEP on, sleep on, thou dearest one,
All silent as thou art;

O why did thy bright loveliness
From heart and home depart?
The seal of heaven is on thy brow,
So calm, and wide, and fair;
Time, woe, or sin shall never stamp
Their blighting wrinkles there.

And oh! if we who mourn thee now,
That better world could see,
The deathless joy that lights thy brow—
We'd weep no more for thee:
But learn the lesson heaven meant
By change and death to shew,—
That oft the heart is chastened

Through what it loves below.

M. T. WIGHTMAN.

.

EPITAPH ON A CLERGYMAN.

THIS stone itself shall crumbling pass away,
These sacred walls shall moulder to decay,
And with thy much loved dust their ruins blend,
Lamented pastor, husband, parent, friend!
But safe from dying nature's final strife,
Thy name is written in the book of life;

Thy noblest record here, thy people's love:

A crown of bliss thy bright reward above.

R. W. KYLE.

CHRIST STILLING THE TEMPEST.

"Master, carest thou not that we perish?"-Mark iv. 38.

SUCH was the disciples' cry

When the crested waves beat high,

And the heavens above were dark
O'er the tempest-driven bark.

Such, O Lord! in trial's hour,
When afflictions round us lower,
Now, on life's tempestuous sea,
Our complaining cry to Thee.

But thou didst not, though upbraided,
Leave thy followers then unaided;
Prompt to succour, swift to save,
Thou rebukedst wind and wave.

At the word which spoke thy will,
Then the stormy wind was still;
At thy voice the waves subsided,
And the gentlest murmurs glided.

Though their faith, too often frail,
In thy power divine might fail,
Though thou might'st reprove their fear,
Still thy saving arm was near.

Thus, O Lord! on us look down,
When above us clouds may frown;

Tossing on a stormy sea,

Helpless, hopeless, but for Thee.

Should we deem ourselves forgot,
Let thy mercies fail us not;
But in doubt's distrustful hour
Magnify thy love and power.

BARTON.

ASLEEP IN JESUS.

I. Thess. iv. 14.

ASLEEP in Jesus! Blessed sleep!
From which none ever wakes to weep;
A calm and undisturbed repose,
Unbroken by the last of foes!

Asleep in Jesus! peaceful rest!
Whose waking is supremely blest;
No fear, no woe shall dim the hour
That manifests the Saviour's power.

Asleep in Jesus! Time nor space
Debars this precious "hiding place;"
On Indian plains, or Lapland snows,
Believers find the same repose.

Asleep in Jesus! Far from thee
Thy kindred and their graves may be ;
But thine is still a blessed sleep
From which none ever wakes to weep.

MRS. MACKAY.