In vain the gaudy rising sun,

The wide horizon gilds,—

Comes glitt'ring o'er the silver streams,
And cheers the dewy fields.

In vain, dispensing vernal sweets,
The morning breezes play;

In vain the birds with cheerful songs
Salute the new-born day.

In vain, unless my Saviour's face
These gloomy clouds control,
And dissipate the sullen shades
That press my drooping soul.

Oh visit then Thy servant, Lord,
With favour from on high;
Arise, my bright immortal Sun,

And all these shades will die.

When, when, shall I behold Thy face
All radiant and serene,
Without these envious, dusky clouds
That make a veil between?

When shall that long-expected day

Of sacred vision be,

When my impatient soul shall make
A near approach to Thee?

HEAVEN.

HAIL, sacred Salem, plac'd on high,

Seat of th' almighty King!

What thought can grasp the boundless bliss? What tongue Thy glories sing?

Thy crystal towers and palaces

Magnificently rise,

And dart their beauteous lustre round

All the empyrean skies.

The voice of triumph in thy streets,
And acclamations sound;

Gay banquets in thy splendid courts,
And nuptial joys abound.

Bright smiles on ev'ry face appear,
Rapture in ev'ry eye;

From ev'ry mouth glad anthems flow,
And charming harmony.

Illustrious day for ever there,

Streams from the face Divine :
No pale-fac'd moon e'er glimmers forth,
Nor stars, nor sun decline.

No scorching heats, no piercing colds,
The changing seasons bring;
But o'er the fields mild breezes there
Breathe an eternal spring.

The flow'rs with lasting beauty shine,
And deck the smiling ground;
While flowing streams of pleasure all
The happy plains surround.

JOHN RYLAND, D.D.

THE REV. JOHN RYLAND was born at Warwick, on the 29th January, 1753. His father, John Collett Ryland, was a distinguished pastor of the Baptist denomination. In 1770, he began to preach. For a period he assisted his father at Northampton, whither he had removed in 1799In 1786, when his father removed to London, he obtained the full charge of the Baptist congregation at Northampton. He femoved to Bristol in 1794, to become president of the Baptist Academy there, and pastor of Broadmead Chapel. He died on the 25th May, 1825.

Dr. Ryland was a profound Oriental scholar. He was one of the founders of the Baptist Missionary Society. His "Hymns and Verses on Sacred Subjects," have lately been reprinted by Mr. Sedgwick, in his "Library of Spiritual Songs," accompanied with a biographical sketch.

TRUST IN GOD.

SOVEREIGN Ruler of the skies,

Ever gracious, ever wise!
All my times are in Thy hand,

All events at Thy command.

His decree that form'd the earth,
Fix'd my first and second birth;
Parents, native place, and time,—
All appointed were by Him.

He that form'd me in the womb,
He shall guide me to the tomb ;
All my times shall ever be
Ordered by His wise decree.

Times of sickness, times of health,

Times of penury and wealth;

Times of trial and of grief;

Times of triumph and relief.

Times the tempter's power to prove ;
Times to taste a Saviour's love;
All must come, and last, and end,
As shall please my heavenly Friend.

Plagues and deaths around me fly;
Till He bids, I cannot die ;
Not a single shaft can hit,
Till the God of love sees fit.

O Thou gracious, wise, and just,
In Thy hands my life I trust;
Have I somewhat dearer still?
I resign it to Thy will.

May I always own Thy hand—
Still to the surrender stand;
Know that Thou art God alone;
I and mine are all Thy own.

Thee at all times, will I bless;
Having Thee I all possess:
How can I bereaved be,

Since I cannot part with Thee.

LORD, I WOULD DELIGHT IN THEE.

O LORD, I would delight in Thee,
And on Thy care depend;
To Thee, in every trouble flee,-
My best, my only Friend!

When all created streams are dried,

Thy fulness is the same;
May I with this be satisfied,

And glory in Thy name!

Why should the soul a drop bemoan,
Who has a fountain near,-
A fountain which will ever run
With waters sweet and clear?

No good in creatures can be found,
But may be found in Thee;
I must have all things, and abound,
While God is God to me.

Oh, that I had a stronger faith,
To look within the veil,-
To credit what my Saviour saith,
Whose Word can never fail !

He that has made my heaven secure,
Will here all good provide;
While Christ is rich, can I be poor?
What can I want beside?

O Lord, I cast my care on Thee,
I triumph and adore:

Henceforth my great concern shall be

To love and please Thee more.

ROBERT SEAGRAVE, M.A.

ROBERT SEAGRAVE was born at Twyford, Leicestershire, on the 22nd November, 1693. He studied at Clare Hall, Cambridge, where he graduated in 1718. In 1739, he seems to have been appointed Sunday Evening Lecturer at Lorimer's Hall, London. He afterwards preached in the Tabernacle, in connection with the Calvinistic Methodists. The date of his death is unknown. Seagrave composed several treatises on doctrinal subjects, and on the duties of the Christian ministry. In 1742, he published "Hymns for Christian Worship;" London, 8vo. This volume contained a number of original hymns, others being selected. Fifty hymns, from his pen, with a sketch of his life and writings, were published by Mr. Sedgwick in 1860.

THE PILGRIM'S SONG.

RISE, my soul, and stretch thy wings;

Thy better portion trace;

Rise from transitory things,

Towards heaven thy native place.

Sun and moon and stars decay,

Time shall soon this earth remove;

Rise, my soul, and haste away

To seats prepared above.

Rivers to the ocean run,

Nor stay in all their course;
Fire ascending seeks the sun :

Both speed them to their source.
So my soul, derived from God,
Pants to view His glorious face;
Forward tends to His abode,
To rest in His embrace.

Fly me riches, fly me cares,

Whilst I that coast explore;

Flattering world, with all thy snares,

Solicit me no more.

Pilgrims fix not here their home;

Strangers tarry but a night;
When the last dear morn is come,
They'll rise to joyful light.

Cease, ye pilgrims, cease to mourn,

Press onward to the prize;

Soon our Saviour will return

Triumphant in the skies.