"When, far behind, the world's great tumult dieth,
Thou shalt look back and wonder at its roar ;
But its far voice shall seem to thee a dream,
Its power to vex thy holier life be o’er.

"There shalt thou learn the secret of a power,
Mine to bestow, which heals the ills of living;
To overcome by love, to live by prayer,
To conquer man's worst evils by forgiving."

Mrs. Stowe.

Trust in God.

"I had fainted, unless I had believed to see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living. Wait on the Lord: be of good courage, and he shall strengthen thine heart: wait, I say, on the Lord."

HILD of sorrow, child of care
Wouldst thou learn thy griefs to bear,
And escape from every snare,

Trust in God alone:

Human strength is weak and vain,
Let not sin its power regain;
Humbly ask and help obtain

From thy Father's throne.

Hast thou in this vale of tears,
Gloomy doubts, distracting fears,
'Painful months and sorrowing years,
To the Saviour fly:

He that drank the bitter cup,
Bids thee in his mercy hope,
Let thy prayer be lifted up
To his throne on high.

Thomas Hastings.

HYMNS

FOR THE

CHRISTIAN SEASONS.

Advent.

Rejoice in the Lord alway; and again I say, Rejoice. The

N

Lord is at hand."

WOW gird your patient loins again,
Your wasting torches trim;
The Chief of all the sons of men—
Who will not welcome Him?

Rejoice! the hour is near; at length
The Journeyer on his way

Comes in the greatness of his strength
To keep his holy day.

L

With cheerful hymns and garlands sweet,

Along his wintry road,

Conduct him to his green retreat,
His sheltered, safe abode;

Fill all his courts with sacred songs,
And from the temple wall
Wave verdure o'er the joyful throngs
That crowd his festival.

And still more greenly in the mind
Store up the hopes sublime
Which then are born for all mankind,
So blessed was the time;

And underneath these hallowed eaves

A Saviour will be born

In every heart that him receives

On his triumphal morn.

H

William Croswell.

The Two Advents.

E came not, with His heavenly crown, his sceptre clad with power,

His coming was in feebleness, the infant of an hour;

An humble manger cradled, first, the Virgin's holy

birth,

And lowing herds companioned there, the Lord of Heaven and earth.

He came not in his robe of wrath, with arm outstretched to slay ;

But on the darkling paths of earth, to pour celestial

day,

To guide in peace the wandering feet, the broken heart to bind,

And bear, upon the painful cross, the sins of human

kind.

And thou hast borne them, Saviour meek! and therefore unto thee,

In humbleness, and gratitude, our hearts shall offered be;

And greenly, as the festal bough, that, on thy altar

lies,

Our souls, our bodies, all be thine, a living sacri

fice!

Yet once again, thy sign shall be, upon the heavens displayed,

And earth, and its inhabitants, be terribly afraid; For, not in weakness clad, thou com'st our woes, our sins, to bear,

But girt with all thy Father's might, His vengeance to declare.

The terrors of that awful day, Oh! who shall understand?

Or, who abide, when thou in wrath, shalt lift thy holy hand?