Page images
PDF
EPUB

THE CHRISTIAN DEPARTING IN PEACE.

THE hour of my departure's come,
I hear a voice that calls me home;
At last, O Lord let troubles cease,
And let thy servant die in peace,

The race appointed I have run,
The combat's o'er-the prize is won;
And now my witness is on high,
And now my record's in the sky.

Not in my righteousness I trust;
I bow before thee in the dust;
And through my Saviour's blood alone,
I look for mercy at thy throne.

I leave the world without a tear,
Save for the friends I hold so dear;
To heal their sorrows, Lord, descend,
And to the friendless prove a friend.

The hour of my departure's come;
I hear the voice that calls me home;
Now, O my God, let trouble cease,
And let thy servant die in peace.

RETIREMENT.

I LOVE to steal awhile away
From every cumbering care;
And spend the hours of closing day
In humble, grateful prayer.

I love in solitude to shed
The penitential tear;

And all His promises to plead,
Where none but God can hear.

I love to think on mercies past,
And future good implore;
And all my sighs and sorrows cast
On Him whom I adore.

I love by faith to take a view

Of brighter scenes in heaven; Such prospects oft my strength renew, While here by tempests driven.

Thus, when life's toilsome day is o'er,
May its departing ray

Be calm as this impressive hour,
And lead to endless day.

G

AMERICAN.

WEEP NOT FOR THE BLEST.

WE mourn for those who toil,

The slave who ploughs the main,
Or him who hopeless tills the soil
Beneath the stripe and chain;
For those who in the world's hard race,
O'er-wearied and unblest,

A host of restless phantoms chase—
Why mourn for those who rest ?

We mourn for those who sin,
Bound in the tempter's snare,
Whom syren pleasure beckons in
The prisons of despair;

Whose hearts by whirlwind passions torn
Are wreck'd on folly's shore-
But why in sorrow should we mourn
For those who sin no more?

We mourn for those who weep,
Whom stern afflictions bend,
With anguish o'er the final sleep
Of lover or of friend ;—

But they to whom the sway

Of pain and grief is o'er,

Whose tears our God hath wiped away,

Oh, mourn for them no more!

MRS. SIGOUrney.

CHRIST OUR ALL IN ALL.

O CHRIST, our hope, our heart's desire,
Redemption's only spring!
Creator of the world art Thou,
Its Saviour and its King.

How vast the mercy and the love,
Which laid our sins on Thee,
And led Thee to a cruel death,
To set Thy people free!

But now the bonds of death are burst,
The ransom has been paid;
And Thou art on Thy Father's throne
In glorious robes arrayed.

Oh! may Thy mighty love prevail,
Our sinful souls to spare !

Oh! may we come before Thy throne,

And find acceptance there.

Oh! Christ, be thou our present joy,

Our future great reward!

Our only glory may it be,

To glory in the Lord.

THE DEAF AND DUMB BOY.

"Even so Father, for so it seemed good in thy sight. Matthew xi. 26.

KIND stranger, dost thou ask me why,
This fettered tongue is mute and still?
My chasten'd heart would only cry,
"It is my Heavenly Father's will."

Stranger, dost thou desire to know,
Wherefore the dull closed ear is given?
My spirit answers, "Be it so,

It seemeth good to God in heaven.

I see the tear of pity start

Stranger, no longer grieve for me;
I gaze on high with thankful heart,
For there the glorious heavens I see.

And soon in that bright world above,
Where angels tune their joyful lays,
Mine ear shall hear the notes of love,
My lip shall join the song of praise."

A THOUGHT IN AFFLICTION. WHAT though a cloud o'ershade my sight, Big with affliction's tear;

Faith can, amidst the drops that fall,
Discern a rainbow there.

LEGH RICHMOND.

« PreviousContinue »