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And thought upon the gracious God the Father,
Who me created and that glorious sun,
And all those pearly splendours strung together,
And flung from pole to pole o'er all heaven's span.

With sweet devotion spake my young lips ever
The words which my good mother bade me pray :
"O Thou great God, be all my life's endeavour
Wise to become, and good, and to obey!"

Then pray'd I for my father and my mother,
And for my sister, and for all the town ;
For the unknown king, nor yet forgot that other,
The beggar lame, who wander'd up and down.
-Danish of Baggesen.

BROAD CAST THY SEED!

BROAD cast thy seed!

If thou hast aught of wealth to lend
Beyond what reason bids thee spend,
Seek out the haunts of want and woe,
And let thy bounty wisely flow;
Lift modest merit from the dust,
And fill his heart with joy and trust;
Take struggling genius by the hand,
And bid his striving soul expand;

Where virtuous men together cling,
To vanquish some unhallow'd thing,
Join the just league, and not withhold
Thy heart, thy counsel, and thy gold;
Thus to achieve some noble deed,
Broad cast thy seed!

Broad cast thy seed!

If thou hast mind, thou hast to spare,
And giving may increase thy share ;
Pour forth thy thought with friendly zeal,
And make some stubborn spirit feel
The grace, the glory, the delight,

That spring from knowledge used aright;
The improving wealth, which none can take,
Though fortune fly, and friends forsake ;
The mental vision, more and more
Expanding as he dares to soar.

Virtue and knowledge, glorious twain !
The more they give the more they gain!
Wouldst have thy humbler brother freed?
Broad cast thy seed!

Broad cast thy seed!
Although some portion may be found
To fall on uncongenial ground,
Where sand, or shard, or stone may stay

Its coming into light of day,

Or when it comes, some pestilent air

May make it droop and wither there,

Be not discouraged; some may find
Congenial soil, and gentle wind,
Refreshing dew and ripening shower,
To bring it into beauteous flower,
From flower to fruit, to glad thine eyes,
And fill thy soul with sweet surprise.
Do good, and God will bless thy deed;
Broad cast thy seed!

JOHN CRITCHLEY PRINCE, 1808

WHEN I COME HAME AT E'EN.

GIVE me the hours when bells are rung,
And dinsome wheels are still,
When engines rest, and toilers leave
The workshop, forge, and mill;
With smiling lip, and gladsome e'e,
My gudewife welcomes me;

Our bairnies clap their wee white hands,
And speel upon my knee.

When I come hame at e'en,

When I come hame at e'en,
How dear to me the bairnies' glee
When I came hame at e'en!

Our lowly bield is neat and clean,
And bright the ingle's glow,

The table's spread with halesome fare,
The teapot simmers low.

How sweet to toil for joys like these,

With strong and eydent hand, To nurture noble hearts to love, And guard our fatherland !

When I come hame at e'en,

When I come hame at e'en,
How dear to me the bairnies' glee
When I come hame at e'en!

Let revellers sing of wassail bowls,
Their wines and barley bree;
My ain wee house and winsome wife
Are dearer far to me.

To crack with her of joys to come,
Of days departed long,

When she was like a wee wild rose,

And I a bird of song.

When I come hame at e'en,
When I come hame at e'en,

How dear to me these memories,
When I come hame at e'en !

THOMAS ELLIOTT, 1820.

THE GOOD MISSIONARY.

He left his Christian friends and native strand,
By pity for benighted men constrain'd:

His heart was fraught with charity unfeign'd;
His life was strict, his manners meek and bland.
Long dwelt he lonely in a heathen land,

In want and weariness—yet ne'er complain'd;
But labour'd that the lost sheep might be gain'd,
Nor seeking recompence from human hand.
The credit of the arduous works he wrought
Was reap'd by other men who came behind :
The world gave him no honour-none he sought,
But cherish'd Christ's example in his mind.

To one great aim his heart and hopes were given—
To serve his God and gather souls to heaven.
THOMAS PRINGLE, 1789-1834.

LINGER NOT LONG!

LINGER not long!-Home is not home without thee,
Its dearest tokens only make me mourn :-
Oh! let its memory, like a chain about thee,
Gently compel and hasten thy return.-

Linger not long!

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