"Come," he saith, “ye heirs of glory; Come, ye purchase of my blood; Claim the Kingdom now before you, Rise, and fill the mount of God, Fix'd for ever Where the Lamb on Sion stands." See! ten thousand burning seraphs From their thrones as lightnings fly; "Take," they cry, "your seats above us, Nearest Him that rules the sky!" Patient sufferers, How rewarded are ye now! Now their trials all are ended: Now the dubious warfare's o'er; Joy no more with sorrow blended, They shall sigh and weep no more; God for ever Wipes the tear from every eye. Through His passion all victorious Now they drink immortal wine; In Emmanuel's likeness glorious As the firmanent they shine; Shine for ever, With the bright and morning Star. Shout aloud, ye ethereal choirs! Triumph in Jehovah's praise! Kindle all your heavenly fires, All your palms of victory raise ! Shout His conquests, Shout salvation to the Lamb! In full triumph see them marching Oh how lovely Hosts angelic all adore Him Circling round His orient seat; Elders cast their crowns before Him, Fall and worship at His feet; O how holy And how reverend is Thy Name! Hail, Thou Alpha and Omega! First and Last, of all alone! He that is, and was, and shall be, And beside whom there is none ! Take the Glory, Great Eternal Three in One! THOMAS OLIVERS. LORD, DISMISS US WITH THY BLESSING. LORD, dismiss us with Thy blessing, Fill our hearts with joy and peace; Let us each, Thy love possessing, Triumph in redeeming grace; Oh refresh us, Travelling through this wilderness. Thanks we give, and adoration, For Thy gospel's joyful sound; May the fruit of Thy salvation In our hearts and lives abound: May Thy presence With us evermore be found. So, whene'er the signal's given May we ever Reign with Christ in endless day. WALTER SHIRLEY Pride, who dost wear the undow's veil Refore the wedding flowns are pale,He deem the human heart endors No deeper billener griest than yours. W. Cullen Bryant MORAL AND DIDACTIC POETRY. LIFE. LIFE. THE World's a bubble, and the Life of Man LIFE! I know not what thou art, Less than a span: In his conception wretched, from the womb, And when, or how, or where we met I own to me's a secret yet. So to the tomb; Life! we've been long together, Through pleasant and through cloudy weather; 'Tis hard to part when friends are dearPerhaps 'twill cost a sigh, a tear; -Then steal away, give little warning, Choose thine own time; Say not Good-Night, but in some brighter clime Bid me Good-Morning. ANNA LETITIA BARBAuld. MY PSALM. years: I MOURN no more my vanish'd The west winds blow, and, singing low, No longer forward nor behind I plough no more a desert land, I break my pilgrim staff,-I lay |