THOUGHTS.

Oн, why should this poor world of ours
Bewilder with its foolish schemes.

Delight with its decaying flowers,
And cheat me with its empty dreams?

Have I one object, and but one,

That solely should the mind engross? A war to wage—a race to runThe gold to sever from the dross

And, in this narrow inch of time,

The work of mighty years to do? 'Mid these low thoughts, a theme sublime To ponder, ever vast and new?

And but these few, fleet days of strife
To gaze in retrospect upon,
Through cycles of an endless life,
While all its ages journey on?

Oh, wondrous God! shall I be mad
In the base struggle, or for gain,
Or honor, pleasure, good and bad,
Το urge it with desire, insane?

Or shall I change, as years increase,
The ill that's past, for worse to come-
Pursue with tears the phantom, peace,
And overtake of wo the sum?

Nor pause upon my march one hour,
My march that with the grave begins-
And strive to snap, with frenzied power,
The chain that binds me to my sins?

Upon the topmast sleeping yet,

Whence down to depths I may be cast, Shall I dream on, and still forget The port which I must make at last?

Nor listen to the voice that weeps
Above the storm, in hopeless pain;
Nor heed the wretches o'er whom sweeps
The dark and melancholy main ?

I'll pause, my weary soul, one hour;
For thee a new career begins;

I'll strive to snap, with frenzied power,
The chain that binds me to my sins.

This hour! this hour! Oh, no; oh, no;
This hour eternity may be :
THIS MOMENT, blessed Lord, I go,

From sin and sin's despair, to thee.

MILLENNIAL HYMN.

Он, GOD, to Thee, from whom so long
This darkened world has strayed, inglorious,
She comes, in brightness and in song,

With crowns and harps for thee, victorious.

From where flames up the morning sun,
To where he floods the west with beauty,-
From north to south, not one, not one
Is silent in this hour of duty.

Hear! as on Africa's vast plains

Her Sunday schools lisp songs, that gladly Go up, where once were stripes and chains, And fraud and gold that triumphed madly.

Hear China's worship-wooing bells!

"Celestial" now— - whose happy nation, By her delivered millions, tells

That her proud wall is called "Salvation."

And see the lovely isles that gem

Old ocean's bosom, fair and vernal, Are jewels in the diadem

That glory wreaths for the Eternal.

The tree of life yields glad perfume,

With fresh buds crowned, and choicest flowers; Knowledge displays its living bloom,

Where grace dispenses warmth and showers.

Dove of the Lord! Peace, brooding, sits
Where fiercely flew the bird of glory;
And Waterloo and Austerlitz

Live only in ignoble story.

And, quenched the latent spark of rage,
Hate adds no more to party fuel;

And realms are ruled, though statesmen wage
No war of words, nor war with duel.

And where so long the dreadful whip
Of slavery scourged the flesh, red reeking,
Are kindness, love, and manhood's lip,
Of holy, heartfelt Freedom speaking.

The heavens, in gladness, shout to Thee,
And earth, in bondage lately lying,
Rings back the cry, "WE'RE FREE! WE'RE FREE
Her vales, rocks, hills, and seas replying.

Earth Earth! to Christ, (his kingdom won,)
In more than primal beauty given -
Sound the high hymn! for now is done
His will on earth, as done in heaven.

INSTALLATION.

WHO shall, with blessing, lift abroad
His hand unto thy holy hill,-

Be shepherd of thy chosen, Lord,
And show these worshippers thy will?

He that uprightly walks, and works
With single purpose, righteousness —
In whose heart, look, or language, lurks
Nor folly, pride, nor wickedness:

He, nor presuming, rash, nor vain,
Yet strong, because he always fears;
He, that repulsed, will urge again
For God, and warn and win with tears:

He that will keep, with toil unpriced,
His skirts from blood, and souls from loss,
He that will nothing know save Christ,
And the sweet science of the cross;

Gently, along this pleasant way,
The aged of the flock shall lead;
And, lest the little lambs should stray,
Will them by fountains guide and feed.