THE MOURNERS CAME AT BREAK OF DAY.

HE mourners came, at break of day,

Unto the garden sepulchre,

With saddened hearts to weep and

pray

For Him, the loved one, buried there. What radiant light dispels the gloom? An angel sits beside the tomb.

The earth doth mourn her treasures lost,
All sepulchre'd beneath the snow,
When wint❜ry winds and chilling frost
Have laid her summer glories low;
The spring returns, the flow'rets bloom-
An angel sits beside the tomb.

Then mourn we not, beloved dead,

E'en while we come to weep

and pray;

The happy spirit hath but fled

To brighter realms of heavenly day; Immortal hope dispels the gloom—

An angel sits beside the tomb.

S. F. ADAMS.

THE LORD IS RISEN.

OW calm and beautiful the morn That gilds the sacred tomb, Where once the Crucified was borne, And veiled in midnight gloom! Oh! weep no more the Saviour slain; The Lord is risen-He lives again.

Ye mourning saints! dry every tear
For your departed Lord;

"Behold the place-He is not there,"
The tomb is all unbarred:

The gates of death were closed in vain:
The Lord is risen-He lives again.

Now cheerful to the house of prayer
Your early footsteps bend,

The Saviour will Himself be there,

Your advocate and friend:

Once by the law your hopes were slain, But now in Christ ye live again.

How tranquil now the rising day!

'Tis Jesus still appears,

A risen Lord to chase away

Your unbelieving fears:

Oh! weep no more your comforts slain, The Lord is risen-He lives again.

And when the shades of evening fall,
When life's last hour draws nigh,
If Jesus shine upon the soul,

How blissful then to die:

Since He has risen who once was slain, Ye die in Christ to live again.

T. HASTINGS.

EVEN SO IN CHRIST SHALL ALL BE MADE ALIVE.

IFT your glad voices in triumph on high,

For Jesus hath risen, and man can

not die,

Vain were the terrors that gathered around Him, And short the dominion of death and the

grave;

He burst from the fetters of darkness that bound

Him,

Resplendent in glory to live and to save.

Loud was the chorus of angels on high"The Saviour hath risen, and man shall not die."

Glory to God, in full anthems of joy:

The being He gave us, death cannot destroy; Sad were the life we must part with to-morrow, If tears were our birthright, and death were our end;