Let not the sweet, enticing calls of sin,

Let nothing draw thine ear from God's still voice within!

He sees thee all; the flashing of an eye; The changing cheek; the bosom swelling high;

Yea the first impulse of the peaceful blood, Ere, with fell passion's surge, it rushes to its flood.

He sees the little pictures spread within

Thy mind's deep chambers, where no eye can win :

As if no other thing on earth's smooth face,
But thou, alone, in clearest light had place,
As if He looked on thee and thee alone,
Thus open standest thou: thus seen, thus

known.

Look not on wrong, nor let the Tempter dare

To find a back-way up into thy heart,
And open all his cursed, tempting ware
To bargain with thee for thy better part.
Thou hast no secrets that are hid from God;
Thine inmost places by His feet are trod :
Hast thou sin there? it lies before His sight:
Die, if thou must, but cast it from thee, quite!

If thou hast ever taken gifts of Hell

And then repented, and hast thrown them out, And swept all clean (while bloody tear-drops

fell)

And scattered holy balms, the place about;
Search yet again; thou knowest but too well
If thine own hand have somewhere laid away
Some sin that penitence might overlook,
To come to light, some time, and draw astray
Thy weaker thoughts, or, at the Dreadful Day,
To stand revealed, and damn thee from God's
Book.

The spirit,-like the wind that wears no form In wooing summer-breath, or ruthless storm,— Breaks up the dark heart's strongly-frozen deep, Or lays the whirl of earthly lusts to sleep.

He, only, is thy strength and warmth and light: Trust well thy faith in Him, where faith is sight. ROBERT LOWELL.

THE CHRISTIAN BANNER.

HE CHRISTIAN BANNER! Dread no loss

Where that broad ensign floats unrolled,

But let the fair and sacred Cross

Blaze out from every radiant fold :-
Stern foes arise, a countless throng,
Loud as the storms of Kara's sea,
But though the strife be fierce and long,
That Cross shall wave in victory.

Sound the shrill trumpet, sound, and call
The people of THE MIGHTY KING,
And bid them keep that standard all
In martial thousands gathering;-
Let them come forth from every clime,
That lies beneath the circling sun,
Various, as flowers in that sweet clime

When flowers are,-IN HEART but one.

Soldiers of Heaven! take sword and shield,
Look up to HIM who rules on high,
And forward to the glorious field,

Where noble martyrs bleed and die ;-
Press onward, scorning flight or fear,

As deep waves burst on Norway's coast, And let the startled nations hear

The war-shout of the Christian host.

Lift up the Banner :—rest no more,
Nor let this righteous warfare cease,

Till man's last tribe shall bow before

THE LORD OF LORDS-THE PRINCE OF

PEACE:

Go! bear it forth, ye strong and brave;

Let not those bright folds once be furled, Till that high sun shall see them wave Above a blest but conquered world.

JAMES GILBORNE Lyons.

I LOVE THY KINGDOM, LORD.

LOVE Thy kingdom, Lord,

The house of Thine abode,

The Church our blest Redeemer saved
With His own precious blood.

I love Thy church, O God!
Her walls before Thee stand,
Dear as the apple of Thine eye,
And graven on Thy hand.

For her my tears shall fall,
For her my prayers ascend;

To her my cares and toils be given,
Till toils and cares shall end.

Beyond my highest joy

I prize her heavenly ways,

Her sweet communion, solemn vows,
Her hymns of love and praise.