Puslapio vaizdai
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It is a solemn thing to live!

More solemn still to die

То pass the narrow gate of time,
And live eternally!

To know when God the nations calls
Before His throne to stand,

Our spirits too must there appear
Amid that countless band.

Thrice blessed they who watch and pray,

In faith that hour to see:

Lord! since for ever we must live,

Oh, let us live with Thee!

(Original.)

ROMANS VIII. 18.

A. R. C.

OH! glimpses of heaven,
Ye brighten our way,
Ye cheer the long even,
And lead to the day!
How dark were our sorrow,
If faith could not see
The dawn of that morrow,
When sighing shall flee!

We pierce with the spirit

The vista of years;

The land we inherit

Looks bright through our tears;

To us it is given

Within us to feel

The earnest of heaven,

The Spirit's deep seal.

We soon shall be dwelling

Where bosoms are calm; We soon shall be telling

The praise of the Lamb; We'll soon swell the meeting Of glorified ones,

And list their glad greeting

In Canaan's sweet tones.

Our faith sees the regions

Where Christ is the light,

The glorious legions

Whose robes are made white;

Sweet voices immortal

Are borne to our ears,

And Zion's bright portal

Unfolded appears.

We look down the valley :

Its shadows are dim

Yet forth we will sally
Relying on Him.

And oh when death frees us

From fetters of clay,

How gently our Jesus
Shall waft us away!

THE EPIPHANY.

GEORGE TREVOR.

STAR of glory! brightly streaming,
Welcome, O thou blessed star!
Star that erst, serenely beaming,

Led the wise men from afar!
Thou their wandering footsteps leddest-
Star of glory! planet mild !—

Till thy heavenly light thou sheddest
O'er the holy, blessed Child.

Holy Father! thou who gavest

Them that light and grace to see! Holy Son! O Christ! who savest All that look for light to Thee! Holy Spirit! ever pouring

Grace on them that seek aright!— Grant us, Lord! with hearts adoring,

Still to walk with Thee in light!

WOULD I WERE A CHILD!

MRS ABDY.

OH! would I were a child again, a child with spirit free, Singing glad songs of merriment beneath the hawthorn

tree;

Watching the many-colour'd clouds pursue their course on

high,

Trying to count the silver stars that gem the evening sky; Weaving, beside the sparkling stream, a wreath of summer

flowers,

Or reading wondrous fairy tales in green sequester'd bowers. The sights, the sounds of nature then my happy hours

beguiled:

Would I could feel her power again-oh! would I were a child!

I chose my sprightly playmates for simplicity and mirth ;
I reck'd not of the lofty, or the sage ones of the earth;
Laden with gifts of lavish friends, I ask'd no money'd store.
Save to relieve the beggar's want who wander'd to my door;

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