Then 'tis thine to stand entreating
Christ to let thee in ;

At the door of Heaven beating,
Wailing for thy sin.

Nay, alas, thou foolish virgin,
Hast thou then forgot,

Jesus waited long to know thee,

But-He knows thee not!

A. C. COXE.

JESUS OF NAZARETH PASSETH BY.

ATCHER, who watch'st by the

bed of pain,

While the stars sweep on in

their midnight train;

Stifling the tear for thy loved one's sake ;
Holding thy breath, lest his sleep should break;
In thy loneliest hours, there is a helper nigh,
"Jesus of Nazareth passeth by."

Stranger, afar from thy native land,
Whom no one takes with a brother's hand,
Table, and hearthstone are glowing free,
Casements are sparkling, but not for thee,
There is one who can tell of a home on high,
"Jesus of Nazareth passeth by."

Sad one, in secret, bending low,

A dart in thy breast, that the world may not

know.

Striving the favour of God to win,—
Asking His pardon for days of sin;
Press on, press on, with thy earnest cry,
"Jesus of Nazareth passeth by."

Mourner, who sits in the church-yard lone,
Scanning the lines on that marble stone,—
Plucking the weeds from thy children's bed,
Planting the myrtle, the rose instead-
look up, with thy tearful eye,
"Jesus of Nazareth passeth by."

Look up,

Fading one, with the hectic streak,

With thy vein of fire, and thy burning cheek,
Fear'st thou to tread the darkened vale
Look unto One, who can never fail.

He hath trod it Himself, He will hear thy sigh, "Jesus of Nazareth passeth by."

MRS. L. H. SIGOURNEY.

THE PITYING CHRIST.

MY Saviour! art Thou there? From within this wasted heart, Cries of shame and deep woe start: Empty chambers, empty halls, Everywhere some lone voice calls: There dwelt pleasure: there came sin: Wailing sounds now roam within. Saviour! Oh! if Thou art there, Be my heart of all else bare!

O my Saviour art Thou there?
Otherwheres I looked too long;
Till I read thy dear looks wrong;
Love on others I have thrown,
And my Lord have all unknown.
Now, by loss and sorrow wise!

Lord! if Thou, indeed, be there,
Give Thy prodigal his share!

ROBERT LOWell.

STILL AS OUR DAY.

"As thy day so shall thy strength be."

TILL as our day our strength

shall be,

While still, good Lord, we trust in
Thee;

While on Thy promise we depend,
Our Saviour, brother, father, friend;
Our great High Priest, to whom were known
Temptations, troubles, like our own,

Who can be touched with mortal care,
For Thou didst all our sorrows bear.

Oh Lamb of God, the world on Thee,
Hath laid her deep infirmity;

And in the cross that weighed Thee down,
The bitter scourge, the thorny crown,
Thou all her griefs, and all her fears,
Didst bear through all Thine earthly years,
The guiltless, for the guilty one,
For man, the Everlasting Son.