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Here, in sickness,-far away

From my earthly home,-how drear
Were my heart, could I not pray,
Knowing Thee intent to hear,
And all bounteous to fulfil
All my need and bless me still.

This my anchor-hope in Thee!
Let it fail me not ;-lest I,
Toss'd on life's tempestuous sea,

Whelmed in dark despair should die :

Keep, oh keep me close to Thee

In time and in eternity!

A PILGRIM SONG.

(Contributed.)

A PILGRIM through life's wilderness,

And often deeply tried

By sin and suffering, I need

An ever-present Guide;

And Thou hast said that Thou would'st be

Such through my pilgrimage to me.

Thou seem'st to sleep the while earth's storm

Still threatens to prevail,

And powers of darkness are in league

My fortress to assail.

My strength is weakness: Oh awake,

And shield me for Thy mercy's sake!

In Thine unchanging love alone
This weary heart can rest;
And only where Thy presence shines,

Can I be safe or blest.

Let me not take a step, I pray,

Except Thou 'rt with me night and day.

Though lonely, not alone am I,
For Thou art always near;

And nought like Thy sweet sympathy
The drooping heart can cheer;

Through tempests wild Thou guidest me,
Secure as on a waveless sea.

Still nearer, nearer unto Thee:
This my heart's fervent prayer,
E'en though its present answer be
A heavier cross to bear;

Through dangers lead, ne'er let me roam,
Till I "with Christ" am safe at home.

EVENING HYMN.

(Contributed.)

As we the busy day recall,

When shades of night around us fall,
And from the graves of memory start,
In living power to wound the heart,
Full many an unrepented sin,
Buried too long its depths within !
In galling chains we come to Thee:
O Saviour, set the captives free!

Conscience accuses; Satan tries
On sin and self to fix our eyes,
That overwhelming sorrow may
Disperse the last faint streak of day.
O Christ! who hast temptation borne,
Pain, anguish, weariness, and scorn,
Give us, with deep humility,

A calm and steadfast trust in Thee!

And should this evening prove our last,
In grateful praise for mercies past,
In pardon seal'd, our spirits keep:
May.we, like Stephen, fall asleep!

Our last sight here, our risen Lord;
Our first in heaven, that Friend adored,
Advancing with life's radiant crown,
To lead us to His regal throne.

But if the cross Thou'dst have us bear
Longer, ere we the crown may wear ;
If Thou hast in Thy vineyard still
Work for Thy servants to fulfil;
Or if, our patient faith to try,
A lingering death Thou'dst have us die,
'Tis our hearts' fervent prayer to be,
In life, or death, conform'd to Thee.

We ask not or to go or stay,

But be Thou with us night and day;

And oh when time and change are o'er,
May we be with Thee evermore!

Thy presence is the heaven we seek,

Thy love, the bliss no tongue can speak;
Our brightest hope eternally

Is only, Lord, to be with Thee.

JOHN KEBLE.

THE REV. JOHN KEBLE was son of the Vicar of Fairford, and was born in 1789. He entered Corpus Christi College, Oxford, where he graduated B. A. in first class honours in 1813. He was chosen Fellow of Oriel College in 1813. He held office as Public Examiner in the Univer sity in 1814-16, and again in 1821-23. In 1831, he was nominated to the Professorship of Poetry, which he held till 1842. In 1827, he produced his "Christian Year;" several of his lyrics at once became popular, and such has been their general acceptance that the little work has now reached its ninety-fifth edition. Mr. Keble published "The Psalms of David in English Verse," 1839; "Prælectiones Academicæ," 2 vols., 8vo, 1844; “Lyra Innocentium," 1846; and "Sermons on Primitive Tradition," 1848. Several minor works also proceeded from his pen. He died on the 29th March, 1866. For a number of years he held the incumbency of Hursley, Hampshire. In commemoration of his learning and various estimable qualities, it is proposed to found a college at Oxford.

THE BOOK OF NATURE.

THERE is a book who runs may read,
Which heavenly truth imparts,

And all the lore its scholars need,

Pure eyes and Christian hearts..

The works of God above, below,
Within us, and around,

Are pages in that book, to show
How God Himself is found.

The glorious sky, embracing all,

Is like the Maker's love,

Wherewith encompass'd, great and small
In peace and order move.

The moon above, the Church below,
A wondrous race they run;

But all their radiance, all their glow,
Each borrows of its sun.

The Saviour lends the light and heat
That crowns His holy hill;

The saints, like stars around His seat,
Perform their courses still.

The saints above are stars in heaven;
What are the saints on earth?

Like trees they stand, whom God has given
Our Eden's happy birth.

Faith is their fix'd unswerving root;

Hope, their unfading flower;

Fair deeds of charity, their fruit,

The glory of their bower.

The dew of heaven is like Thy grace,

It steals in silence down;

But where it lights, the favour'd place

By richest fruits is known.

One name, above all glorious names,
With its ten thousand tongues

The everlasting sea proclaims,

Echoing angelic songs.

The raging fire, the roaring wind
Thy boundless power display;
But in the gentler breeze we find
Thy Spirit's viewless ray.

Two worlds are ours; 'tis only sin
Forbids us to descry

The mystic heaven and earth within,
Plain as the sea and sky.

Thou, who hast given me eyes to see
And love this sight so fair,

Give me a heart to find out Thee,
And read Thee everywhere.

EVENING.

"Abide with us: for it is toward evening, and the day is far spent." Luke xxiv. 29.

'Tis gone, that bright and orbèd blaze,
Fast fading from our wistful gaze;
Yon mantling cloud has hid from sight
The last faint pulse of quivering light.

In darkness and in weariness

The traveller on his way must press,
No gleam to watch on tree or tower,
Whiling away the lonesome hour.

Sun of my soul! Thou Saviour dear,
It is not night if Thou be near ;
Oh! may no earth-born cloud arise
To hide Thee from Thy servant's eyes.

When round Thy wondrous works below,
My searching, rapturous glance I throw,
Tracing out wisdom, power, and love,
In earth or sky, in stream or grove;

Or, by the light Thy words disclose,
Watch time's full river as it flows,
Scanning Thy gracious providence,
Where not too deep for mortal sense :-