And Salem, our Salem, lies low and degraded,
While far from her ruins in exile we pine;
Yet still is the hope of Thy remnant unfaded;
The Hand that implants it, JEHOVAH, is Thine.

Alas! we were warned, but we recked not the warning, Till our warriors grew weak in the day of despair; And our glory was fled as the light cloud of morning, That gleams for a moment, and melts into air.

As the proud heathen trampled o'er Zion's sad daughter, She wept tears of blood o'er her guilt and her woe; For the voice of her GOD had commissioned the

slaughter,

The rod of His vengeance had pointed the blow.

Though foul are thy sins, O thou lost one, that stained thee,

The Blood of atonement can wash them away: Though galling and base are the bonds that enslave thee, The GOD who imposed them can lighten the sway.

For a star shall yet rise o'er the darkness of Judah, A BRANCH yet shall flourish on Jesse's true tree; And Zion shall triumph o'er those that subdued her, Yea, triumph in giving a SAVIOUR to thee!

DALE.

A MOTHER'S GRIEF.

To mark the sufferings of the babe
That cannot speak its woe;

To see the infant tears gush forth,
Yet know not why they flow;
To meet the meek uplifted eye
That fain would ask relief,
Yet can but tell of agony-
This is a mother's grief.

Through dreary days and darker nights

To trace the march of death;

To hear the faint and frequent sigh,
The quick and shortened breath:

To watch the last dread strife draw near,

And pray that struggle brief,

Though all is ended with its close

This is a mother's grief.

To see in one short hour decayed

The hope of future years;

To feel how vain a father's prayers,

How vain a mother's tears;

To think the cold grave now must close

O'er what was once the chief

Of all the treasured joys of earth-
This is a mother's grief.

Yet when the first wild throb is past
Of anguish and despair,

To lift the eye of faith to heaven,
And think-my child is there!
This best can dry the quenching tear;
This yields the heart relief,

Until the Christian's pious hope
O'ercomes a mother's grief.

THE NATIVITY.

O SAVIOUR, Whom this holy morn
Gave to our world below;
To mortal want and labour born,
And more than mortal woe!

Incarnate Word, by every grief,
By each temptation tried,
Who lived to yield our ills relief,
And to redeem us, died!

If gaily clothed and proudly fed,
In dangerous wealth we dwell,
Remind us of Thy manger bed,
And lowly cottage cell.

DALE.

If pressed by poverty severe,
In anxious want we pine,
Oh! may Thy SPIRIT whisper near,
How poor a lot was Thine!

From this world's change and various ills,

From sin, preserve us free;

Like us Thou hast a mourner been;
May we rejoice with Thee!

THE JOY OF ANGELS.

O WHY are the loud harps of seraphs resounding, Sweet music of joy through the bright realms above? And the choir of the ransomed in transport responding New anthems of praise to the GOD of their love?

And why do they stoop from the scene of their gladness, Where round the blest Throne of the LAMB they recline?

And what can they trace in this dark vale of sadness, To heighten a rapture already divine?

Behold in yon desolate cell, where reclining

On earth, lone and cheerless, the captive is laid; No beam through the gloom of his dungeon is shining, No accents of friendship breathe solace or aid.

And yet, though the hands of the base have enchained

him,

His soul bows submissive and meek to the rod; From friends who deserted, and foes who disdained him, He sought for a refuge; he fled to his GOD.

Then mark down his wan cheek the silent tear stealing,
The pale lips that quiver convulsive in prayer;
The deep sigh that bursts from his bosom revealing
The sorrow that springs from true penitence there.

And marvel no more why, with angel's consenting, The saints to their LORD songs of rapture should raise;

They gaze from their thrones on a sinner repenting, And rise to fresh transports of wonder and praise.

DALE.

AN INVITATION TO THE FEATHERED RACE.

AGAIN the balmy zephyr blows;
Fresh verdure decks the grove;
Each bird with vernal rapture glows,
And tunes his notes to love.