Then freely let thy blossom ope
Its beauties, to recall

A scene which bids the humble hope
In Him who died for all!

THE ORCHIS PYRAMIDALIS.

(FROM THE RUINS OF THURNHAM CASTLE, KENT.)

DOUGLAS ALLPORT.

A FLOWER is not a flower alone
A thousand sanctities invest it;
And as they form a radiant zone
Around its simple beauty thrown,
Their magic tints become its own,

As if their spirit had possess'd it.

The sprightly morning's "breezy call,” And cool gray light around it streaming

The holy calm of even-fall,

The majesty of night, and all

The glories of its starry pall

Above it eloquently beaming;

"The precious things of heaven-the dew"

That on the turf beneath it trembled ;

The distant landscape's tender blue,
The twilight of the woods that threw
Their solemn shadows where it grew,
Are at its potent call assembled.

And while that simple plant for me

Brings all these varied charms together,

I hear the murmurs of the bee,

The splendour of the skies I see,

And breathe those airs that wander free

O'er banks of thyme and blooming heather.

Thus, when within my sunless room,

Heart-sick and mock'd by Mammon's leaven, The pyramids of purple bloom

Blush through its loneliness and gloom,

The spirit bursts its living tomb,

And basks beneath the open heaven.

There, as on some green knoll reclined,

The summer landscape round me glowing, While gentle ardours fill the mind, I leave the unquiet world behind, And hear a voice in every wind

Around my fervent temples blowing.

The self-same voice, how calm and still!

That rends the rock and wakes in thunder,

Proclaiming from the tinkling rill,

The vocal copse, and breezy hill,

As meekly as the dews distil,

Its ceaseless ministries of wonder.

"The Eternal Power and Godhead" then,
Is seen and loved in all around us :
Seen in the deep and dewy glen,
And loved to agonising, when
We know ourselves to be but men,

And feel this tabernacle bound us.

Thus, through this wood-side plant, the mind
Sweeps the vast range of things created,
And longs, and pants, and fails to find,
In earth, air, ocean, sky combined,
Those joys unfading and refined

By which its famine may be sated.

Its very cravings wean it hence,

It anchors where its rest remaineth; And who has power to drive it thence? Its helper is Omnipotence,

The Rock of Ages its defence,

And sinlessness the prize it gaineth.

(Original.)

THE SPREAD OF THE GOSPEL.

REV. W. H. BATHURST.

How long, O gracious Lord! how long
Shall Satan his dominion keep,

Encourage violence and wrong,

And vex Thy church, and tear Thy sheep?

When wilt Thou grant us to behold

The dawning of that glorious day,

So long expected and foretold,

When earth shall own Messiah's sway?

Behold! the dawning has begun ;

Bright streaks are in the eastern sky;

And soon the full unclouded sun

Shall lift his blazing orb on high.

See! the light breaks o'er China's wall,
And Siam's turrets catch the rays;
Burmah has heard the awak'ning call,

And India brightens in the blaze.