THE DYING CHRISTIAN TO HIS SOUL. WITAL spark of heavenly flame, Quit, oh quit Hark! they whisper! angels say: Lend, lend your wings; I mount! I fly! ALEXANDER POPE. THE LANDING OF THE PILGRIM THE breaking waves dashed high On a stern and rock-bound coast, And the woods against a stormy sky Their giant branches tossed, And the heavy night hung dark The hills and waters o'er, When a band of exiles moored their bark Not with the roll of the stirring drums, In silence and in fear; They shook the depths of the desert gloom Amidst the storm they sang, And the stars heard, and the sea; And the sounding isles of the dim woods rang To the anthem of the free! The ocean-eagle soared From his nest by the white wave's foam, And the rocking pines of the forest roaredThis was their welcome home! There were men with hoary hair Why had they come to wither there, The wealth of seas, the spoils of war? Aye, call it holy ground The soil where first they trod! They have left unstained what there they found Freedom to worship God! FELICIA DOROTHEA HEMANS. THE SLEEP. F all the thoughts of God that are "He giveth His beloved sleep?" What would we give to our beloved? The poet's star-tuned harp, to sweep, The patriot's voice, to teach and rouse, The monarch's crown, to light the brows? "He giveth His beloved sleep." What do we give to our beloved? A little dust, to over-weep, "Sleep soft, beloved," we sometimes say, But have no tune to charm away Sad dreams that through the eyelids creep; But never doleful dream again O earth so full of dreary noises! His dews drop mutely on the hill, Though on its slope men sow and reap. "He giveth His beloved sleep." Aye, men may wonder while they scan Confirmed in such a rest to keep; For me, my heart, that erst did go Who sees through tears the mummers leap, Would now its wearied vision close, And friends, dear friends, when it shall be A ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING. ABOU BEN ADHEM. BOU BEN ADHEM (may his tribe in- Awoke one night from a deep dream of peace, And with a look made all of sweet accord, "And is mine one?" said Abou. "Nay, not 80," Replied the angel. Abou spoke more low, But cheerly still; and said, "I pray thee, then, Write me as one that loves his fellow-men." The angel wrote and vanished. The next night, It came again with a great wakening light, Its lamps are the meridian sun And all the stars of heaven; All nature worships there. A thousand fierce volcanoes blaze, The ocean heaves resistlessly, And pours his glittering treasure forth; His waves, the priesthood of the sea, Kneel on the shell-gemmed earth, And there emit a hollow sound, As if they murmured praise and prayer; On every side 'tis holy ground; All Nature worships there. Exceeding peace had made Bon Athem bold, in the room he said, not so "What writest those?" The vision raised its head and with a look made of all sweet accord. Answered, "The names of those who love the Lord: "And is mine one" seed Abou. "Hey, Replied the angel. Abou spoke more low, But cheerly Itill; and said, "I pray the then, Write me as one, that lover his fellow men The angel wrote, and venishd. _ the wat night a great wakening light. And shewd the names whom love of god had blesid, And to: Ben Athem's name ted all the rest I came again, едает, with a Leigh Hunt. TIME AND ETERNITY. 'HERE is an ancient fablę told by the Greek and Roman Churches, which, fable as it is, may for its beauty and singularity well deserve to be remembered, that in one of the earliest persecutions to which the Christian world was exposed, seven Christian youths sought concealment in a lonely cave, and there, by God's appointment, fell into a deep and death-like slumber. They slept, the legend runs, two hundred years, till the greater part of mankind had received the faith of the gospel, and that Church which they had left a poor and afflicted orphan, had kings for her nursing fathers and queens for her nursing mothers. They then at length awoke, and entering into their native Ephesus, so altered now that its streets were altogether unknown to them, they cautiously inquired if there were any Christians in the city. “Christians?” was the answer; "we are all Christians here.” And they heard with a thankful joy the change which, since they left the world, had taken place in the opinion of its inhabitants. On one side they were shown a stately fabric adorned with a gilded cross, and dedicated, as they were told, to the worship of their crucified Master; on another, schools for the exposition of those Gospels, of which, so short a time before, the bare profession was proscribed and deadly. But no fear was now to be entertained of those miseries which encircled the cradle of Christianity; no danger now of the rack, the lions, or the sword; the emperor and his prefects held the same faith with themselves, and all the wealth of the east, and all the valor and authority of the western world, were exerted to protect and endow the professors and teachers of their religion. But joyful as these tidings must at first have been, their further inquiries are said to have met with answers which very deeply surprised and pained them. They learned that the greater part of those that called themselves by the name of Christ, were strangely regardless of the blessings which Christ had bestowed, and of the obligations which he had laid upon his followers. They found that, as the world had become Christian, Christianity itself had become worldly; and, wearied and sorrowful, they besought of God to lay them to sleep again, crying out to those who followed them: "You have shown us many heathens who have given up their old idolatry without gaining anything better in its room; many who are of no religion at all; and many with whom the religion of Christ is no more than a cloak for licentiousness; but where, where are the Christians?" And thus they returned to their cave; and there God had compassion on them, releasing them, once for all, from the world for whose reproof their days had been lengthened, and removing their souls to the society of their ancient friends and pastors, the martyrs and saints of an earlier and better generation. REGINALD HEBER. 0 INVOCATION TO LIGHT. JAIL, holy Light! offspring of heaven, first- Or hearest thou rather pure ethereal stream, born, Whose fountain who shall tell? Before the May I express thee unblamed? since God is Before the heavens thou wert, and at the light, And never but in unapproached light voice Of God, as with a mantle didst invest |