Faith speaks of myriads round the throne,
Who once were suff'rers here below:
And shows the path which led them on
To glory from a scene of woe.
She speaks of one whom hosts adore.—
Whom Angels worship in the sky;
'Tis to the Lamb for evermore
Who once for guilty man did die.
Faith, saving faith worlds cannot chain,
To earth's ignoble low abode ;
And pleasure's voice allures in vain
To keep her from the throne of God.
Her chariot is the lightning's wing,
The Martyr's cup her brightest prize;
And death, tho' cruel, will but bring
Faith to full vision in the skies.
THE LORD'S PRAYER IMITATED
FATHER of all! Eternal mind!
Immensely good and great!
Thy children, form'd and blest by thee,
Approach thy heav'nly seat.
Thy name in hallow'd strains be sung!
We join the solemn praise:
To thy great name, with heart and tongue,
Our cheerful homage raise.
Thy mild, thy wise, and sov'reign reign,
Let every being own:
And in our minds, thy work divine,
Erect thy gracious throne.
As angels, in the heavenly worlds,
Thy bless'd commands fulfill,
So may thy creatures here below
Perform thy holy will.
On thee we, day by day, depend;
Our daily wants supply;
With truth and virtue feed our souls,
That they may never die.
Extend thy grace to every fault;
Oh! let thy love forgive;
Teach us divine forgiveness too,
Nor let resentments live.
Where tempting snares bestrew the way,
Permit us not to tread;
Avert the threat'ning evil far
From our unguarded head.
Thy sacred name we would adore,
With humble joyful mind;
And praise thy goodness, power, and truth,
Eternal, unconfin'd!
PARENTS.
(Exodus xx. 12.)®
THE voice of nature, yea, the voice of God,
Commands to honour those that gave us birth,-
Even her, from whose supporting bosom flowed
By far the sweetest stream that flows on earth;
Whose tongue of kindness never knew a dearth
Of soothing words that could our griefs alla
Even him who listened to our prattling
Who early taught our infant lips to pray,
And led our tottering steps to walk in wisdom's way:
A parent is indeed a tender friend,
And, if once lost, we never more shall find A bosom that so tremblingly can blend
Its feelings with our own congenial mind; Our lips may speak their anguish to the wind That hurries heedlessly and wildly by
Our hearts, to lonely agony consign'd,
May throb without relief-for no reply
Comes from the mould'ring breasts that in their
grave-bed lie.
And then we pause to think-alas! how late!-
Of deeds that wrung a parent's heart with pain:
And oh! could we but open death's dark gate;
And lead them back into the world again-
Oh! but once more to see their face!-tis vain!
Once more to hear their voice!-'tis sweetly driven
Across our fancy, and expires,--and then
We wish ourselves away-away to heaven,
To weep upon their breast and there to be forgiven.
Love, the new Commandment.
BEHOLD, where, breathing love divine,
Our dying Master stands !
His weeping followers, gathering round,
Receive his last commands.
From that mild teacher's parting lips
What tender accents fell!
The gentle precept which he gave
Became it's author well.
"Blest is the man, whose soft'ning heart
Feels all another's pain;
To whom the supplicating eye
Was never rais'd in vain.
"Whose breast expands, with generous warmth
A stranger's woes to feel;
And bleeds in pity o'er the wound
He wants the power to heal.
"He spreads his kind supporting arms,
To every child of grief;
His secret bounty largely flows,
And brings unask'd relief.
"To gentle offices of love
His feet are never slow;
He views, thro' mercy's melting eye,
A brother in a foe,
"Peace from the bosom of his God
My peace to him I give;
And, when he kneels before the throne,
His trembling soul shall live.
"To him protection shall be shewn!
And mercy from above
Descend on those who thus fulfill
The perfect law of love."
AURORA BOREALIS.
CHILD of the north, whose vivid light,
All playfully illumes the sky;
We see thee 'midst the shades of night,
When cloudless stillness reigns on high.
Some look on thee with trembling eye,
As herald of untold designs,—
Lights bursting on dark prophecy,
The harbinger of troublous times.
They see in thee the ranks of war,
The fleets that sail the mighty sea;
And speak of deeds unknown-afar,
Reveal'd in signs alone by thee:
Yet 'midst the blue immensity,
Regardless of the thoughts of man,
Thy nightly march is still on high
As when creation's hours began.
How harmless are those lights which glow
By night along the northern sphere:
Reflected to a world below,
Which mourns the winter of her year.
Yet I remember still that fear,
Which childhood felt to gaze on thee, When told by some prophetic seer,
The bloody scenes which soon would be.
But soon philosophy whose flight
On eagle wing explores the sky
Dispell'd those fears, and brought delight
With every meteor flash on high.
Then while to thee we turn our eye,
Bright bursting from the dreary pole,
Let thoughts above philosophy,
With all thy brightness fill the soul.
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