"And there shall be no night there; and they need no candle, neither light of the sun; for the Lord God giveth them light and they shall reign for ever and ever."- Revelation xxii. 5.

:

O, WHEN the hours of life are past,
And death's dark shade arrives at last,
It is not sleep, it is not rest,
'T is glory opening to the blest.

There parted hearts again shall meet
In union holy, calm, and sweet;
The weary rest, and never more
Shall sorrow call them to deplore.

No storm shall vex the quiet air,
No voice of passion enter there;
But all be peaceful as the sigh
Of the soft wind, when eve is nigh.

The blest have conquered, they have past
Through life, still faithful to the last, -
Have reached the home toward which they trod,
And dwell in heavenly peace with God.

WHY weep for those, frail child of woe,
Who've fled and left thee mourning here?
Triumphant o'er their latest foe,
They glory in a brighter sphere.

Weep not for them;- beside thee now Perhaps they watch with guardian care, And witness tears that idly flow

O'er those who bliss of angels share.

Or round their Father's throne above,
With raptured voice, his praise they sing,
Or on his messages of love

They journey with unwearied wing.

Space cannot check, thought cannot bound
The high exulting souls, whom He,
Who formed these million worlds around,
Takes to his own eternity.

Weep, weep no more; their voices raise
The song of triumph high to God,
And, wouldst thou join their song of praise,
Walk humbly in the path they trod.

"His soul pleased the Lord; therefore hasted he to take him away."— Ecclesiasticus iv. 14.

How blest are they, whose transient years
Pass like an evening meteor's flight;
Not dark with guilt, nor dim with tears,
Whose course is short, unclouded, bright!

O, cheerless were our lengthened way,
But heaven's own light dispels the gloom,
Streams downward from eternal day,
And sheds a glory round the tomb!

MISCELLANEOUS.

88.

L. M.

JOHN TAYLOR.

"So teach us to number our days that we may apply our hearts unto wisdom."- Psalm xc. 12.

LIKE shadows gliding o'er the plain,
Or clouds that roll successive on,

Man's busy generations pass;

And while we gaze, their forms are gone.

O Father, in whose mighty hand
The boundless years and ages lie,
Teach us thy boon of life to prize,
And use the moments as they fly;

To crowd the narrow span of life
With wise designs and virtuous deeds:
So shall we wake from death's dark night,
To share the glory that succeeds.

89. C. M.

"Thou crownest the year with thy goodness."

Psalm lxv. 11.

THE year begins with promises

Of happy days to come,

Of pleasures lengthened through its course, And love in every home;

Of seed-time, with its gentle winds,
Soft dews and fertile showers;

Its swollen streams, and meadows green,
And birds and opening flowers;—

Of summer, with its ripening sun
Poured on the shady leaves;
Of autumn, with its harvest rich

Of fruits and golden sheaves;