Go and tell Jesus, he will say to thee,
I thy good Shepherd am; O, trust in me!

Go and tell Jesus; so shall he be thine,

And sweetly will he come and dwell with thee.
Tell all to Jesus; so shalt thou be his,

His through all time and all eternity.

Saviour, I come; O, teach me how to pray !
Thou only canst, my life, my truth, my way.

CHRIST'S DISCIPLINE.

"Nevertheless, afterward it yieldeth the peaceable fruit of righteousness unto them which are exercised thereby."- Heb. xii. 11.

O SAVIOUR! whose mercy, severe in its kindness,
Has chastened my wanderings and guided my way,
Adored be the power which illumined my blindness
And weaned me from phantoms that smiled to betray.

Enchanted with all that was dazzling and fair
I followed the rainbow, I caught at the toy,
And still in displeasure thy goodness was there,
Disappointing the hope and defeating the joy.

The blossom blushed bright,—but a worm was below; The moonlight shone fair, there was blight in the

beam;

Sweet whispered the breeze, but it whispered of woe, And bitterness flowed in the soft-flowing stream.

So, cured of my folly, but cured but in part,
I turned to the refuge thy pity displayed;
But still did this eager and credulous heart

Weave visions of joy that bloomed but to fade.

I thought that the course of the pilgrim to heaven Would be bright as the sun, and glad as the morn; Thou show'dst me the path,—it was dark and uneven, All rugged with rock and all tangled with thorn.

I dreamed of celestial rewards and renown,

I grasped at the triumph which blesses the brave; I asked for the palm-branch, the robe, and the crown, I asked, and thou show'dst me a cross and a grave.

Subdued and instructed, at length, to thy will

My hopes and my longings I fain would resign; O, give me the heart that can wait and be still, Nor know of a wish or a pleasure but thine!

There are mansions exempted from sin and from woe,
But they stand in a region by mortals untrod.
There are rivers of joy, but they roll not below;

There is rest, but it dwells in the presence of God.

THE BORDER-LAND.

"For the Lord thy God bringeth thee into a good land, a land of brooks of water, of fountains and depths that spring out of valleys and hills."- Deut. viii. 7.

I HAVE been to a land, a Border-land,

Where there was but a strange, dim light,
Where shadows and dreams in a spectral band
Seemed real to the aching sight.

I scarce bethought me how there I came,
Or if thence I should pass again;

Its morning and light were marked by the flight
Or coming of woe and pain.

But I saw from this land, this Border-land,
With mountain ridges hoar,

That they looked across to a wondrous strand,
A bright and unearthly shore.

Then I turned me to Him, "the Crucified,"
In most humble faith and prayer,

Who had ransomed with blood my sinful soul,
For I thought he would call me there.

Yet nay; for a while in the Border-land
He bade me in patience stay,

And gather rich fruits with a trembling hand,
Whilst he cheered its glooms away.
He has led me amid those shadows dim
And shown that bright world so near,
To teach me that earnest trust in Him
Is the one thing needful here.

NOT UNCLOTHED, BUT CLOTHED UPON.

"For we that are in this tabernacle do groan, being burdened; not for that we would be unclothed, but clothed upon, that mortality might be swallowed up of life."-2 Cor. v. 4.

IN health, O Lord, and prosperous days,
When worldly wealth, or worldly praise,
When worldly thoughts have filled our heart,
We would not from the body part;
And then the very thought is loathed,
That we must be by death unclothed.

In sickness, sorrow, or in shame,
We fain would quit this mortal frame;
But thus to shrink from toil and pain,-
This is not longing for thy reign;
Brought low, we only seek to be
Unclothed,

not clothed upon by thee.

O, rather help us as we ought
To feel what thine apostle taught, —
That not for aye we seek to wear
This form of clay, corruption's heir;
Nor yet, impatient, ask alone
To be unclothed, but clothed upon.

O blessed Lord! whose merits dress
Thy saints in robes of righteousness;

Through whom, for us, eternal stands
That heavenly house, not made with hands,-
When this frail dwelling sets us free,
Quench thou, in life, mortality.

FRIENDSHIP WITH CHRIST.

"Nevertheless, I am continually with thee; thou hast holden me by my right hand." Ps. lxxiii. 23.

WHEN, in the hours of lonely woe,

I give my sorrows leave to flow,
And anxious fear and dark distrust
Weigh down my spirit to the dust;
When not e'en friendship's gentle aid
Can heal the wounds the world has made;
O, this shall check each rising sigh, -
Thou, Saviour, art for ever nigh.

Jesus! in whom, but thee above,
Can I repose my trust, my love?
And shall an earthly object be
Loved, in comparison with thee?
Thy counsels and upholding care
My safety and my comfort are;

Thou, Lord, shalt guide me all my days,
Till glory crown the work of grace.

My flesh is hastening to decay, -
Soon shall the world have passed away,