O God! O good beyond compare!
If thus thy meaner works are fair,
If thus thy beauties gild the span
Of ruin'd earth and sinful man,
How glorious must the mansion be
Where thy redeem'd shall dwell with thee!

NATURE PRAISES GOD.

Parnell.

THE Sun, that walks his airy way,
To light the world, and give the day;
The Moon, that shines in borrow'd light;
The Stars, that gild the gloomy night;

The Seas, that roll with restless waves ; The Wood, that spreads its shady leaves; The Field, whose bosom bears the grain,— The yellow treasures of the plain;

The whole of these, and all I see,
Ought to be sung, and sung by me;
They speak their MAKER as they can,
But want and ask the tongue of man.

THE LOST ONE.

Mary Howitt.

WE meet around the board-thou art not there; Over our household joys hath pass'd a gloom : Beside the fire we see thy empty chair,

And miss thy sweet voice in the silent room. What hopeless longings after thee arise! Even for the touch of thy small hand I pine, And for the sound of thy dear little feet. Alas! tears dim my eyes:

Meeting in every place some joy of thine ;

Or when fair children pass me in the street.

Beauty was on thy cheek, and thou didst seem A privileged being, charter'd from decay; And thy free spirit, like a mountain stream

That hath no ebb, kept on his cheerful way. Thy laugh was like the inspiring breath of Spring, That thrills the heart, and cannot be unfelt.

The sun, the moon, the green leaves, and the [flowers,

And every living thing,

Were a strong joy to thee; thy spirit dwelt
Gladly in life, rejoicing in its powers.

Oh! what had Death to do with one like thee?

Thou young and loving one, whose soul did cling Even as the ivy clings unto the tree,

To those who loved thee; thou, whose tears would spring,

Dreading a short day's absence-didst thou go
Alone unto the future world unseen,
Solving each awful untried mystery-
The dread Unknown to know?

To be where mortal traveller bath not been,
Whence welcome tidings cannot come from thee!

My happy boy! and murmur I that Death
Over thy young and buoyant frame had power!
In yon bright land love never perisheth,

Hope may not mock, nor grief the heart devour. The Beautiful are round thee-thou dost keep Within the Eternal Presence, and no more May'st death, or pain, or separation dread: Thy bright eyes cannot weep,

Nor they with whom thou art thy loss deplore ; For ye are of the living, not the dead.

Thou dweller with th' Unseen, who hast explored The universe unknown; thou, to whom death

and heaven

Are mysteries no more; whose soul is stored

With knowledge for which men have vainly striven.

Beloved child! Oh! when shall I lie down

With thee beneath fair trees that cannot fade? When from the immortal rivers quench my thirst? Life's journey speedeth on;

Yet, for a little while, we walk in shadeAnon, 'tis done-death hath the cloud dispersed, And o'er the hills of heaven the eternal day has burst.

THE LORD WILL PROVIDE.

Thomas Dickson.

WHEN whispers unbelieving Fear,

"We'll eat our last lean crust, and die,"

"Tis sweet to think that He is near

Who hears the ravens when they cry.

And sweet his promises must be

66

To parents sinking in the dust:

'Your helpless offspring leave with me,
And let your widows in me trust."

When Satan's chains did round us cling,

When all from God astray had gone, When none a ransom fit could bring, None for his guilty soul atone,—

Then, blessed be Jehovah's name,
He did himself a Lamb provide ;
From heaven the spotless victim came,
Who suffer'd for us, and who died.

Oh! let us then confide in heaven,
Repressing each desponding sigh ;
He who his "only Son" hath given,
Will nothing that is good deny.

THE EVENING SUN.

Feist.

'Tis the last sweet smile of the evening sun:

How bright! how sublime its beaming! What golden tides of splendour steep The rosy clouds, as they softly sleep Beneath its holy gleaming!