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Behold his sainted spirit stand

In angel-majesty!
Long robes of lustre round him flow;
Unfading rose-buds wreathe his brow.

Across a golden lyre

His gentle fingers stray ;
And when the rushing, mighty choir

Of hallelujahs die away,
Softly responds his echoing hymn
Among the infant cherubim.

There, thron'd as in the sun,

This world seems dark and dull ! And now to THEE, whose arm hath won

That palace beautiful, His fond and grateful songs arise, Through the long SPRING OF PARADISE.

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Sun, moon, and stars, by day and night,
At God's commandment give us light;
And when we wake, and while we sleep,
Their watch, like guardian angels, keep,

The bright blue sky above our head,
The soft green earth on which we tread,
The ocean rolling round the land,
Were made by God's almighty hand.

Sweet flowers that hill and dale adorn,
Fair fruit-trees, fields of grass

and corn, The clouds that rise, the showers that fall, The wind that blows,—God sends them all.

The beasts that


with downward eye, The birds that perch, and sing, and fly, The fishes swimming in the sea, God's creatures are as well as we.

But us He form’d for better things,
As servants of the King of Kings,
With lifted hands and


face, And thankful hearts, to seek his grace.

Thus God loved man; and more than thus,
-He sent his Son to die for us;
And now invites us, when we die,
To come and live with Him on high.

But we must live to Him below,
For none but such to heaven will go :
-Lord Jesus ! hear our humble prayer,
And lead us little children there.


Lines by Mr. Montgomery, of Sheffield,

On a Monument placed in the Chancel of the Parish Church, Preston.

In Memory of
HENRY WILLIAM Hulton, aged twenty-one Years;
GEORGE HENRY GRIMSHAW, aged seventeen Years
And JOSEPH KAY, aged twenty Years;

In a moment of youthful enjoyment,
Were drowned in the River Ribble,

By the oversetting of a boat,

On the 24th of April, A.D. 1822.
Several of their friends and companions.
Have united to erect this Monument,

In testimony of their deep concern,
And with a desire to perpetuate the salutary mpression

Of this truly awful dispensation.

They sail'd in hope, but they return'd no more; Youth, health, and pleasure, cheer'd them on the

way ; Brief was the voyage; yet they reach'd a shore

Beyond the seaman's track, ere close of day. Low in the grave their ashes slumber now : Reader, thy days are number'd-where art thou ?

Though on the stream of time thy vessel glide,

And pure as heaven the waters seem to roll, Ere long, in calm or tempest, shall the tide

Cast on a land unknown thy naked soul : Ah ! then, when life and death no more shall be, Where, Reader, wilt thou spend eternity?

The Sky-Lark.

By a Young Lady,

How sweet is the song of the Lark, as she springs To welcome the morning with joy on her wings! The higher she rises, the sweeter she sings ;

And she sings, while we hear her no more ; When storms and dark clouds veil the sun from our

sight, She has mounted above them, she shines in his light There, far from the scenes that disturb and affright,

She loves her gay music to pour.

It is thus with the Christian :-he sees from afar, The day-spring appearing, the bright morning-star; He quits this dark valley of sorrow and care,

For the land whence the day-spring is given ;

He sings in his way from this cloud-covered spot;
The swifter his progress, the sweeter his note ;
When we hear it no longer, the song ceases not, -

It blends with the chorus in heaven !

The Warvest Moon.

All hail ! thou lovely queen of night,

Bright empress of the starry sky
The meekness of thy silvery light

Beams gladness on the gazer's eye,
While from thy peerless throne on high

Thou shinest bright aš cloudless noon,
And bid'st the shades of darkness fly

Before thy glory-Harvest Moon !

In the deep stillness of the night,

When weary Labour is at rest,
How lovely is the scene!-how brigh

The wood—the lawn—the mountain's breasi,
When thou, fair Moon of Harvest ! hast

Thy radiant glory all unfurled,
And sweetly smilest in the west,

Far down upon the silent world.

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