"The fields are fresh, and cool, and green, Pleasant the shady trees: But those around my own dear home "I must not loiter on the road, For I have far to go; And I should like to reach the door, "I must not stay. But will you not, My home is very beautiful, I took her little hand in mine, Brighter and brighter o'er our path, At length we saw the distant towers; And as she turned her radiant face A burst of "Welcome home." A MOTHER'S SORROW AT THE LOSS OF HER LITTLE BOY. THERE used to be a small foot climbing on our stair; We had a little plaything in our garden bowers; And welcome were the spring buds coupled with his name. I used to feel a soft hand patting on my cheek; I used to kiss two soft lips; loved to hear them speak : Then merry was the playing on our parlour floor; Now nought is left but silence, silence evermore! A little figure nightly by our window stood; He watched the star of evening; told us GOD was good: A little form knelt nightly praying in our room; We wandered through a glad world happy three sweet years; For many were our bright hopes; seldom fell our tears: We never dreamt of parting, till that hour of fear Brought blank and tomb-like silence ever reigning here. I weary for the bright land-weary all the day; THE UNWAKING MULTITUDE. WATCHMAN, watchman, stand on thy tower; Lift up thy voice, and tell it aloud, That the trump may waken yon slumbering crowd; Proclaim that the night is far, far spent, And the sun rides high in the firmament. Yes, the sun rides high, and it's almost day; He numbered the hour, and his work was done, CHRIST'S RETURN. THE LORD of might, from Sinai's brow, The LORD of love, on Calvary, The LORD of love, the LORD of might, Shall back return to claim His right, BEVAN. With trumpet sound and angel song, O'er death and hell defeated. BISHOP HEBER. THE LAST JUDGMENT. O BLEST were the words of early creation, And mighty the tones which the firmament rended, When on wheels of the thunder, and wings of the wind, By lightning, and hail, and thick darkness attended, He uttered on Sinai His laws to mankind. And sweet was the voice of the First-born of heaven, Though poor His apparel, though earthly His form, Who said to the mourner, "Thy sins are forgiven"; "Be whole" to the sick, and "Be still" to the storm. O Judge of the world, when arrayed in Thy glory, Thy summons again shall be heard from on high; While nature stands trembling and naked before Thee, And waits thy last sentence to live or to die; |