THE SLEEP.

ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING.

Of all the thoughts of God that are
Borne inward unto souls afar,

Along the Psalmist's music deep,
Now tell me if that any is,

For gift or grace surpassing this— "He giveth His beloved sleep?"

What would we give to our belov❜d?
The hero's heart, to be unmov'd,

The poet's star-tuned harp to sweep—
The senate's shout to patriot vows-
The monarch's crown, to light the brows?
"He giveth His beloved sleep!"

What do we give to our belov❜d?
A little faith, all undisprov'd—

A little dust, to overweep—

And bitter memories, to make

The whole earth blasted for our sake! "He giveth His beloved sleep!"

"Sleep soft, belov'd!" we sometimes say,

But have no power to charm away

Sad dreams that through the eyelids creep;

But never doleful dream again

Shall break the happy slumber, when

"He giveth His beloved sleep!"

O earth, so full of dreary noises!

O men, with wailing in your voices!

O delved gold, the wailer's heap! O strife, O curse, that o'er it fall! God makes a silence through you all, And "giveth His beloved sleep!"

His dews drop mutely on the hill

His cloud above it saileth still,

Though on its slope men toil and reap! More softly than the dew is shed,

Or cloud is floated overhead,

"He giveth His beloved sleep!"

Yea! men may wonder while they scan
A living, thinking, feeling man,

In such a rest his heart to keep;
But Angels say-and through the word
I ween their blessed smile is heard-
"He giveth His beloved sleep!"

For me, my heart that erst did go
Most like a tired child at a show,

That sees through tears the jugglers leap,

Would now its wearied vision close,

Would childlike on His love repose,

Who "giveth His beloved sleep!"

And friends !-dear friends !-when it shall be

That this low breath is gone from me,

And round my bier ye come to weep,

Let one, most loving of you all,

Say, "Not a tear must o'er her fall,

He giveth His beloved sleep!"

WEEP NOT.

DR HUIE.

"WEEP not," the Saviour gently said, When o'er his lifeless daughter's head

66

66

The mournful Jairus bent;

Weep not," He said, as on the bier
Of all on earth she held most dear,

Nain's hapless widow leant.

Weep not," He said, while Martha clung
Around His knees, and from her tongue

These melting accents fell :

"O Lord, hadst Thou been by his side, Thy friend, my brother, had not died,

For Thou didst love him well!"

Weep not," He said, when, 'midst the throng,

Who urged His tortured frame along

To Calvary's bloody steep,

He heard the sounds of female woe,

"On me no more your tears bestow,

Yourselves, your children weep!"

Weep not," with bland and healing power,
His gospel whispers, in the hour

When earthly props decay;

And lifts the thoughts to realms of rest,

Where joys eternal cheer the breast,

And tears are wiped away.

"Weep not," my brother! though the eye, Which sparkled most while thou wert by,

66

Is closed in death's deep gloom; My sister! "weep not," though the voice, Which bade thy youthful ear rejoice, Is silent in the tomb.

Weep not," o'er fond affection's urn!
As prisoner to the stronghold turn
Of hope and peace divine;

Then though creation's self should die,
And sun and stars desert the sky,

Shall endless life be thine!

(Original.)

JESUS AT THE WELL.-JOHN IV. 6.

A. R. C.

SAVIOUR Divine! when Thou didst come
Down from Thy bright and holy home,
Fulfilling mercy's plan,

Though starry heavens were framed by Thee,
Thou wert for us content to be

A faint and weary man.

How hard Thy freely chosen lot

In this blind world that knew Thee not,
What sufferings didst Thou bear!
And while for us securing rest,
How was that earthly frame opprest,
Which Thou didst stoop to wear !

To glory Thou art risen again,
But can'st Thou e'er forget the pain
In fleshly temple known?
Oh! when Thy people feel distress,
Think on that hour of weariness
Spent by the well alone.

And teach us 'twas for our relief

Thy gentle form was marred with grief,

Thy "locks were filled with dew,"