He changes not.

201

The vanish'd light of all a life

That tiny spot encloseth,

Where, follow'd by a thousand dreams,
The little one reposeth.

It is a place where thankfulness
A tearful tribute giveth:

That one so pure hath left a world

Where so much sorrow liveth-
Where trial, to the heavy heart,
Its constant cross presenteth,
And every hour some trace retains,
For which the soul repenteth.

It is a place for hope to rise,
While other brightness waneth,
And from the darkness of the grave
To learn what gift it gaineth-
From Him who wept, as on the earth
Undying love still weepeth-

From Him who spake the blessed words,--
"She is not dead, but sleepeth."

He changes not.

J. E. CARPENTER.—Music by J. W. Cherry.

H

E changes not, but is the same for ever;
Behold His works, how uniform and grand:
The mighty ocean still flows on, and never
Fails the ripe harvest in the cultured land;
The seed time and the harvest are unchanging;
Year after year the bright flowers come and go;
'Tis we alone whose minds are ever ranging,

Yearning for something that we ne'er may know.

He changes not-His goodness is unfailing;
Why should we spurn the paths our fathers trod?
Their simple forms, their holy shrines assailing?
Do we not worship still the same wise God?
God of our fathers! at Thy altars bending,

Guide us, weak pilgrims, with Thy helping hand;
So that our prayers, heavenward ascending,
May reach Thy mansions in the promised land.

Weep, Children of Israel.

WE

T. MOORE.-Air, Stevenson.

WEEP, weep for him, the man of God—*
In yonder vale he sunk to rest;

But none of earth can point the sod†
That flowers above his sacred breast.
Weep, children of Israel, weep.

His doctrine fell like heaven's rain,
His words refresh'd like heaven's dew:

Oh, ne'er shall Israel see again

A chief to God and her so true.

Weep, children of Israel, weep.

Remember ye his parting gaze,
His farewell song by Jordan's tide,
When, full of glory and of days,

He saw the Promised Land-and died. ‡
Weep, children of Israel, weep.

Yet died he not as men who sink,
Before our eyes, to soulless clay;
But changed to spirit, like a wink
Of summer lightning, pass'd away.
Weep, children of Israel, weep.

*Deut. xxxiv. 8.

† Deut. xxxiv. 6.

Deut. xxxiv. 4.

203

The Reading Girl.

The Reading Girl.

J. E. CARPENTER.-Music by W. Vincent Wallace.

N the sunshine, in the daytime,

IN

Sat a girl beneath the tree,

In the younger children's playtime,
With a book upon her knee;
On her brow no shade of sadness
As she bent before the page;
In her eye but light and gladness,
Flush of youth, with calm of age.
Whence that pure and holy feeling,
Freed from all of earthly strife,
O'er her spirit sweetly stealing?
There she read the Book of Life.

Then a Temple seem'd the wild wood,
And I could not choose but deem
That sweet form of perfect childhood
Was an angel's in a dream:

For I felt a presence near me;

In my soul arose this prayer :-
66 Heavenly Father, deign to hear me,
Make me like 'the reader' there;
Give me grace but to inherit

Thoughts devoid of worldly strife,
Pure of heart, and meek in spirit,

Thus to read the Book of Life."

THE

Music.

MRS FRANCES S. OSGOOD.

`HE Father spake! In grand reverberations Through space roll'd on the mighty music-tide,

While to its low majestic modulations

The clouds of chaos slowly swept aside.

The Father spake-a dream, that had been lying
Hush'd from eternity in silence there,

Heard the pure melody and low replying,
Grew to that music in the wondering air.

Grew to that music-slowly, grandly waking,
Till, bathed in beauty, it became a world!
Led by His voice, its spheric pathway taking,
While glorious clouds their wings around it furled.

Nor yet has ceased that sound-His love revealing, Though, in response, a universe rolls by! Throughout eternity, its echo pealing

World after world awakes in glad reply!

And wheresoever, in His rich creation,

Sweet music breathes-in wave, or bird, or soul

'Tis but the faint and far reverberation

Of that great tune to which the planets roll!

The Child and the Dew-Drops.

The Child and the Dew-Drops.

J. E. CARPENTER.-Music by J. L. Hopkins. "FATHER, dear father, why pass they away,

205

The dew-drops that sparkled at dawning of day— That glitter'd like stars by the light of the moon, Oh, why are those dew-drops dissolving so soon? Does the sun, in his wrath, chase their brightness away, As though nothing that's lovely might live for a day? The moonlight has faded—the flowers still remain, But the dew has dried out of their petals again."

"My child," said the father, "look up to the skies,
Behold yon bright rainbow-those beautiful dyes;
There there are the dew-drops in glory reset,
'Mid the jewels of heaven they are glittering yet.
Then are we not taught, by each beautiful ray,

To mourn not earth's fair things though fleeting away?
For though youth of its brightness and beauty be riven,
All that withers on earth blooms more brightly in heaven.”

Alas for the father!-how little knew he

The words he had spoken prophetic could be;

That the beautiful child,—the bright star of his day,—
Was e'en then like the dew-drops-dissolving away.
Oh! sad was the father, when lo, in the skies
The rainbow again spread its beauteous dyes ;
And then he remember'd the maxims he'd given,

And thought of his child and the dew-drops-in heaven.