THE REFUGEE. "Whom have I in Heaven but thee?" Psalm 13-25. B UT Thee, O God! but Thee, Thou only, who alone canst heal To Thee, Oh God! to Thee, And haste to succour me, And whelm with tears my sinking soul. From Thee, O God! from Thee, By phantom passions led, Like him of old* I fled! Saying this earth shall be, But then didst Thou in mercy thrust On Thee, Oh God! on Thee A hiding place to me, Whose heart with love and mercy fraught * Jonah. WILLIAM WILSON. WHY SEEK YE THE LIVING AMONG THE DEAD. H! why should bitter tears be shed Of all the children of our God? They who are lost to outward sense And oft their spirits breathe in ours And silent aspirations start, In promptings of their purer thought, Which gently lead the troubled heart To joys not even Hope had wrought. While sorrow's tears our eyes have wet, Too much our darkened souls forget Let living Faith serenely pour Her sunlight on our pathway dim, And Death can have no terrors more; But holy joys shall walk with him. G. S. BURLEIGH. EASTER ON MOUNT OLIVET. T morning twilight, when the dreaming soul Gropes in the grey of dim and weird-like thought, A sweet voice whispered:-'Lo, the Christ has risen, And walks among the olives.' In glad haste, guard Upturned a half-shut eye; near broken tomb, swift, |