There is a tongue in every leaf,

There's not a star whose twinkling light,

These are thy glorious works, Parent of good,

These, as they change, Almighty Father, these,

The Spirit breathes upon the Word,

283

The scene was more beautiful far, to my eye,

189

The trumpet's voice the Sabbath of the Jubilee, &c., 197

The voice of nature, yea, the voice of God,
The world with stones instead of bread,

227

85

Thou art gone to the grave, but we will not deplore

thee,

150

Thou thy stern robe of terrors hast put on,

216

Thou Power Supreme, whose mighty scheme,
Through shades and solitudes profound,.
Thus shalt thou love the Almighty Lord,
Time speeds away-away-away,.

'Tis but one family! the sound is balm,

"'T is from the Lord," the humbled monarch cried, To-morrow!-mortal, boast not thou,

77

105

270

235

172

231

234

'T was Eve's pensive twilight, the valley was gray,

68

'Twas summer, and a Sabbath eve,

185

Types of eternal rest-fair buds of bliss,.

271

Vital spark of heavenly flame,

191

Warriors and Chiefs! should the shaft or the sword,

132

Weep, mourner, for the joys that fade,

When faith and love, which parted from thee never,

167

When, marshall'd on the nightly plain,
When Power Divine, in mortal form,
When restless on my bed I lie,

When the dangerous rocks are pass'd,

134

When, thoughtful, to the vault of heaven,

129

When the radiant morn of creation broke,

147

When thou art in thy chamber, and thy knee,
Where can I go from Thee!

231

228

Where shall the child of sorrow find,

70

Where then may Peace erect her steadfast throne?
Whoe'er, like me, with trembling anguish brings,
While yet she lived she walked alone,
Without a shade, where beams the orient light,
With silent awe I hail the sacred morn,

59

221

22

95

41

Ye are fair, ye are fair; and your pensive rays,
Ye midnight shades, o'er nature spread,.

144

205

SABBATH RECREATIONS.

THE GOOD SHEPHERD.

As the good shepherd leads his sheep
Through paths secure,

And, while a-fold by night they sleep
Doth keep them sure;

So the True Shepherd, Christ, our souls doth guide,
Safe in his eye, protected by his side.

Great Shepherd! do we know thy voice,
And follow thee?

Is thy safe fold our rule and choice,

From bondage free?

Upheld by faith the obedient sheep shall stand, "And none shall pluck them from thy Father's hand."

But O! what mortal tongue shall sing

Thy wondrous love?

Death could not with his threaten'd sting
Thy purpose move:

Conqueror of death, and pledge of life to rise,

Joy of the earth, and heir of subject skies.

Shepherd! with joy we hear thy call
That leads to heaven:

Let none from that salvation fall,
So freely given !

But, as thy sacred records long foretold,
Be the wide-peopled earth one happy fold."

66

CHRISTMAS HYMN.

No moon hung o'er the sleeping earth;
But, on their thrones of light,
The stars, that sung ere morning's birth,
Filled the blue vault of night
With heavenly music:-earthly ears
Not often catch the hymn;

It was

"the music of the spheres,"

The song of seraphim.

But there were those, in Judah's land,
Who watched, that night, their fold,
That heard the song of the angel band,
As o'er them was unrolled

The starry glory; and there came
This burst of heavenly song
From mellow tubes and lips of flame,
In chorus loud and long:-

"To God be glory! for, this day,
Hath shot from Judah's stem

A BRANCH that ne'er shall know decay :-
The royal diadem

Shall grace the brows of one whom ye
Shall in a manger find;

For, him hath God raised up, to be

The Savior of mankind.

"To God be glory! Peace on earth!
Glory to God again!

For, with this infant Savior's birth
There comes good will to men!"
Good will to men! O God, we hail
This, of thy law the sum :
For, as this shall o'er earth prevail,
So SHALL THY KINGDOM COME.

THE FUTURE LIFE.

How shall I know thee in the sphere which keeps
The disembodied spirits of the dead,

When all of thee that time could wither sleeps
And perishes among the dust we tread?

For I shall feel the sting of ceaseless pain
If there I meet thy gentle presence not,
Nor hear the voice I love, nor read again
In thy serenest eyes the tender thought.

Will not thy own meek heart demand me there?
That heart whose fondest throbs to me were given?
My name on earth was ever in thy prayer,

Shall it be banished from thy tongue in heaven?

In meadows fanned by heaven's life-breathing wind, In the resplendence of that glorious sphere.