I'll read thy anger in the rack That clouds awhile the day-beam's track; Of sunny brightness, breaking through ! There's nothing bright, above, below, There's nothing dark, below, above, Moore. أويا DEATH OF A BELIEVER. O think, that while you're weeping here, And think, that all his pains are fled, His toils and sorrows closed for ever; While He, whose blood for man was shed, Has placed upon his servant's head A crown that fadeth never! And think, that (in that awful day, When darkness sun and moon is shading) The form that, 'midst its kindred clay, Your trembling hands prepare to lay, Then weep no more for him, who's gone Where sin and suffering ne'er shall enter; But on that great High Priest alone, Who can for guilt like ours atone, For thus, while round your lowly bier Your souls, like his, to Jesus dear, And thus, when to the silent tomb Your lifeless dust like his is given, Like faith shall whisper 'midst the gloom, That yet again, in youthful bloom, That dust shall smile in heaven! Anon. THE BIRTH OF CHRIST. Brightest and best of the sons of the morning, Guide where our infant Redeemer is laid! Cold on his cradle the dew-drops are shining, Say, shall we yield him, in costly devotion, Gems of the mountain, and pearls of the ocean, Vainly we offer each ample oblation; Vainly with gold would his favour secure ; Richer by far is the heart's adoration, Brightest and best of the sons of the morning, Guide where our infant Redeemer is laid. LOVE OF GOD. Our Father sits on yonder throne, He reigns throughout the world alone, He knew us when we knew him not, He keeps us now, securely keeps, With vigilance that never sleeps, With power that never fails. Heber. He gives us hope that we shall be, Ere long, with him above; And celebrate his love. Then let us, while we dwell below, To all his dispensations bow, How sweet to hear him say at last, The days of banishment are past, And heaven is your home.' Kelly. WHAT IS LIFE? And what is life?—An hour-glass on the run, -a minute's pause, a moment's thought: |