Emmaus.

"Abide with us, for it is towards evening."-LUKE xxiv. 29.

Abide with us—the evening shades
Begin already to prevail ;

And as the ling'ring twilight fades,
Dark clouds along the horizon sail.

Abide with us the night is chill,
And damp and cheerless is the air;
Be our companion, Stranger still,
And thy repose shall be our care.

Abide with us-1

-thy converse sweet,

Has well beguiled the tedious way; With such a friend we joy to meet ; We supplicate thy longer stay.

Abide with us-for well we know,
Thy skill to cheer the gloomy hour,
Like balm thy honied accents flow,
Our wounded spirits feel their power.

Abide with us-and still unfold

Thy sacred, thy prophetic lore; What wondrous things of Jesus told! Stranger, we thirst, we pant for more.

Abide with us and still converse
Of him who late on Calvary died
Of him our prophecies rehearse,
He was our friend they crucified.

Abide with us-our hearts are cold,

We thought that Israel he'd restore; But sweet the truths thy lips have told, And, Stranger, we complain no more.

Abide with us-we feel the charm

That binds us to an unknown friend : Here pass the night secure from harm, Here, Stranger, let thy wanderings end.

Abide with us to their request,

The Stranger bows, with smiles divine; Then round the board the unknown guest, And weary travellers recline.

Abide with us-amaz'd they cry,

Their own lost Jesus meets their

As suddenly, whilst breaking bread,

With radiant glory on his head.

eye,

Abide with us-thou heavenly friend,
Leave not thy followers thus alone:
The sweet communion here must end,—
The heavenly visitant is gone !

“Let me go for the Day breaketh.”

CEASE here longer to detain me,
Fondest Mother, drown'd in woe,
Now thy kind caresses pain me-
Morn advances-let me go!

See yon orient streak appearing,
Harbinger of endless day :—
Hark! a voice the darkness cheering,
Calls my new-born soul away.

Lately launch'd a trembling stranger,
On the world's wide boist'rous flood,
Pierc'd with sorrows, toss'd with dangers.
Gladly I return to God.

Now my cries shall cease to grieve thee,
Now my trembling heart finds rest,
Kinder arms than thine receive me,
Softer pillow than thy breast.

Weep not o'er those eyes that languish,
Upward turning towards their home,
Raptur'd, they'll forget all anguish,
While they wait to see thee come !

There, my Mother, pleasures centre,
Weeping, parting, pain or care,
Ne'er our Father's house can enter,
Morn advances-let me go!

As thro' this calm holy dawning,
Silent glides my parting breath,
To an everlasting morning,

Gently close my eyes in death.

Blessings, endless, richest blessings
Pour their streams upon thy heart,
Though no language yet possessing,
Breathes my spirit e're we part.

Yet to leave thee sorrowing rends me,
Though his voice again I hear,
Rise!-may every grace attend thee,
Rise!-and seek to meet me there.

CECIL.

The above lines were presented by the Rev. R. Cecil to his wife,

upon the death of a child, which took place at day-break.

The Enchcape Bell.

འ་་་་

No stir in the air, no stir in the sea.
The ship was still as ship might be;
Her sails from heaven receiv'd no motion,
Her keel was steady in the ocean.

Without either sign or sound of the shock,
The waves flow'd over the Inchcape rock ;
So little they rose, so little they fell,
They did not move the Inchcape bell.

(The worthy abbot of Aberbrothock

Had floated that bell on the Inchcape rock;
On the waves of the storm it floated and swung,
And louder and louder it warning rung.

When the rock was hid by the tempest's swell,
The mariners heard the warning bell;
And then they knew the perilous rock,
And bless'd the priest of Aberbrothock.)

The float of the Inchcape bell was seen,
A darker speck, on the ocean green:
Sir Ralph the Rover walk'd his deck,
And fix'd his eyes on the darker speck.