heaven,

JOHN WILSON.

We see thy hand, - it leads us, it sup

ports us;

We hear thy voice, -it counsels and it (1785 - 1854.)

courts us;

And then we turn away, --and still thy THE EVENING CLOUD.

kindness A cloud lay cradled near the setting sun,

Forgives our blindness. A gleam of crimson tinged its braided and still thy rain descends, thy sun is snow:

glowing, Long had I watched the glory moving on Fruits ripen round, flowers are beneath O'er the still radiance of the lake below.

us blowing, Tranquil its spirit seemed, and floated And, as if man were some deserving creaslow!

ture, Even in its very motion there was rest;

Joy covers nature. While every breath of eve that chanced to blow

0, how long-suffering, Lord! but thou Wafted the traveller to the beauteous west.

delightest Emblem, methought, of the departed soul, To win with love the wandering; thou To whose white robe the gleam of bliss is

invitest, given;

By smiles of mercy, not by frowns or And by the breath of mercy made to roll

terrors, Right onwards to the golden gates of Man from his errors. Where to the eye of faith it peaceful lies, Who can resist thy gentle call, appealAnd tells to man his glorious destinies.

ing To every generous thought and grateful

feeling, — That voice paternal, whispering, watch

ing ever, SIR JOHN BOWRING.

My bosom?— never. (1792---.]

Father and Saviour! plant within this

bosom FROM THE RECESSES.

The seeds of holiness; and bid them

blossom From the recesses of a lowly spirit

In fragrance and in beauty bright and My humble prayer ascends : 0 Father!

vernal, hear it.

And spring eternal ! Upsoaring on the wings of fear and meek

Then place them in those everlasting ness, Forgive its weakness.

gardens, Where angels walk, and seraphs are the

wardens; I know, I feel, how mean and how un- Where every flower that climbs through worthy

death's dark portal
The trembling sacrifice I pour before thee; Becomes immortal.
What can I offer in thy presence holy,
But sin and folly?

HYMN.
For in thy sight, who every bosom view.
est,

FATHER, thy paternal care Cold are our warmest vows, and vain our Has my guardian been, my guide. truest;

Every hallowed wish and prayer, Thoughts of a hurrying hour, our lips Has thy hand of love supplied. repeat them,

Thine is every thought of bliss
Our hearts forget them.

Left by hours and days gone by;