Faith lifts the veil that covers unseen things,
And views a legion of Satanic foes,
That, darkening the air with dusky wings,
On every side their hostile squadrons close;
But all their threatening fury to oppose,
It bears a heavenly shield, whose strength defies
Their
rage, and back each poisoned arrow throws;
And still its constant prayers to heaven arise
For power to overcome its watchful enemies.

Faith clings to Christ for mercy, light, and life,
And trusts him for deliverance and redress,
In sin's deep plague, and passion's jarring strife,
And every trial, danger, and distress

That threatens us in this dark wilderness:
And oft it longs for that expected day,

When Christ once more shall come this world to bless

With pure Religion's universal sway,

Cheering earth's darkest tribes with its reviving ray.

Faith builds upon a rock that cannot move,
Casts every burden on a Father's breast,
Rejoices in his smile, whose name is Love;

And when with fiery trials most distressed,
It knows that what the Lord decrees is best,

And stands prepared to suffer or to die;

Heav'n is its home; this world is not its rest; Already is its treasure stored on high,

And its wings spread to mount beyond the distant sky.

B 2

O may this living Faith my soul inspire!

Pure, steadfast, genuine, ardent, and sincere, Kindling within a flame of heavenly fire, Unstained by error, and unquenched by fear: May it direct me thankfully to hear

Christ's gracious words, and still with new delight
His steps to follow, and his truth revere;
And may it cleanse my heart, and speed my flight,
Until absorbed at last in heav'n's eternal light.

SONNET-THE SUN.

THE AUTHOR OF 66 PROVERBIAL PHILOSOPHY."

BLAME not, ye million worshippers of gold,
Modern idolaters, their works and ways,
When Asia's children, in the times of old,

Knelt to the sun, outpouring prayer and praise As to God's central throne; for when the blaze Of that grand eye is on me, and I stand

Watching its majesty with painful gaze, I, too, could kneel among that Persian band, Had not the Architect of yon bright sphere Taught me himself; bidding me look above, Beneath, around, and still to find Him-here! King of the heart, dwelling in no fixed globe,

But gladly throned within the spirit of love, Wearing that light ethereal as a robe.

THE INFANT'S PRAYER.

THE west had shut its gates of gold

Upon the 'parted sun,

And through each window's curtained fold Lamps glittered one by one;

And many a babe had sunk to rest,

And many a mother's yearning breast
Still lulled its idol care,

When in a nursery's peaceful bound
By pure affection circled round,
I heard an infant's prayer.

Yes; there it knelt, its cherub face

Upraised with anxious care,

And well devotion's heaven-born grace

Became a brow so fair;

But seldom at our Father's throne

Such blest and happy child is known

So painfully to strive,

For long with trembling ardour fraught, That supplicating lip besought,

"Please God, let Lily live!"

And still the imploring voice did flow
That little couch beside,

As if for poor sick Lily's woe

It could not be denied;

E'en when the spell of slumber stole
With soothing influence on the soul,
Like moonlight o'er the stream,
The murmuring lip, the sobbing strife,
The broken plea for Lily's life,

Blent with the infant's dream.

So Lily lived! but not where time
Is measured out by woes;

Not where cold winter chills the clime,
Or canker eats the rose;

And she, who for her infant friend

In agonizing love did bend

To the tearful prayer,

pour

Safe from the pang, the groan, the dart,

That pierced the mourning parent's heart, Lives with her Lily there!