Nor turn, with cold and scornful eye, The seeds of good are every where ; While many a tempted soul hath been Thou art not mute. With angels blending, Thy voice is still to me descending. Thou art not absent. Sweetly smiling, I see thee yet, my griefs beguiling! Soft, o'er my slumbers art thou beaming, Thine eyelids seem not yet concealing Their living charms my heart still numbers; As kind thou art; for still thou'rt meeting THE MISSION OF CHRIST UNIVERSAL. Он, yes! there is joy in sincerely believing, ceiving Such wealth as a Father alone can bestow. Then away with the dogma that sin is eternal! It dims the bright glow of Immanuel's name; For it was not to build up a kingdom infernal That Jesus, the Friend of the sorrowful, came. It was not to lay in the path of the blinded High walls, over which they must stumble and fall, That He came, all sublime and serene and highminded, And laid down his life a redemption for all! It was not to slaughter, in anger and blindness, The wandering lambs that were dying of cold, That he lifted them up to his bosom in kindness, And brought them all home to their rest in the fold. He is good, and the heart that serenely reposes And lays down its burthens to rest in his love, Will find that the door of salvation ne'er closes So long as one sinner continues to rove. He loves the young lambs, though afar they are straying, He seeks out the weary with tender concern; Oh hear His soft voice in the wilderness praying, "To the arms of your Saviour poor lost ones return!" MRS. S. C EDGARTON MAYO. 1819-1848. THE GOSPEL'S PROMISES FOR ALL. POUR, blesséd Gospel, glorious news for man! Thy stream of life o'er springless deserts roll: Thy bond of peace the mighty earth can span, And make one brotherhood from pole to pole. On, piercing Gospel, on! of every heart, Spread, mighty Gospel, spread thy soaring wings! Proclaim them all thine own; 'tis Christ's command! A WALK IN A CHURCHYARD. We walked within the churchyard bounds, He, laughing, running happy rounds — 66 Nay, child, it is not well," I said, To laugh and play among the dead, A moment to my side he clung, A moment stilled his joyous tongue, Then quite forgetting the command, In life's exulting burst And now I did not check him more, I had grown wiser than before, E'en in that moment's space. She spread no funeral-pall above But the same azure vault of love And white clouds o'er that spot would pass As freely as elsewhere; A richer hue might wear. And, formed from out that very In which the dead did lie, The daisy, with its eye of gold, Looked up into the sky. mould The rook was wheeling overhead, Nor hastened to be gone; The small bird did its glad notes shed, And God, I said, would never give Nor bid in childhood's heart to live If our one wisdom were to mourn, Oh, no! the glory earth puts on, The child's unchecked delight, |