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The cedar and the mountain pine,
From tower and tree and middle air; The willow on the fountain's brim,
The rushing river murmurs praise ; The tulip and the eglantine,
All Nature worships there! In reverence bend to Him;
DAVID VEDDER. The song-birds pour their sweetest lays
Suceding pesca lat made tenlilien hl and to the presence in the nom he said , "What writest thon? The vision rusd its head knd with a look mebe of all sweet-acord
. Answered the names of those who love the Lord" "And is mine one" seed alon. Kay Replish the cagel. Une pake’mune bou Brut chearly till ; and said, I pray there then, , Write me as one, that loves his fellow men The.engel unde and omish. The act night
with a great wahering high And shead the names whom love of god, hit biza, Rad bi Ben Athem's name lið all the rest
If came again,
TIME AND ETERNITY. "HERE is an ancient fable 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.
INVOCATION TO LIGHT.
(From " Paradise Lost," Book III.) DAIL, holy Light! offspring of heaven, first- Or hearest thou rather pure ethereal stream, born,
Whose fountain who shall tell ? Before the Or of the eternal co-eternal beam!
sun, May I express thee unblamed ? since God is Before the heavens thou wert, and at the light,
voice And never but in unapproached light
Of God, as with a mantle didst invest Dwelt from eternity, dwelt then in thee, The rising world of waters dark and deep, Bright effluence of bright essence increate ! Won from the void and formless infinite,
Thee I revisit now with bolder wing, Cut off; and for the book of knowledge fair, Escaped the Stygian pool, though long de- Presented with a universal blank tained
Of nature's works, to me expunged and In that obscure sojourn ; while in my flight razed, Through utter and through middle darkness And wisdom at one entrance quite shut out! borne,
So much the rather thou, celestial Light! With other notes than to the Orphean lyre, Shine inward, and the mind through all her I sung of Chaos, and eternal Night;
powers Taught by the heavenly Muse to venture Irradiate; there plant eyes; all mist from down
thence The dark descent, and up to reascend, Purge and disperse ; that I may see and tell Though hard and rare! Thee I revisit safe, Of things invisible to mortal sight. And feel thy sovereign vital lamp; but thou
JOHN MILTON. . Revisit'st not these eyes, that roll in vain To find thy piercing ray, and find no dawn; “WHATEVER IS, IS BEST.” So thick a drop serene hath quenched their
KNOW, as my life grows older, orbs,
And mine eyes have clearer sight, Or dim suffusion veiled. Yet not the more
That under each rank Wrong, somewhere Cease I to wander, where the Muses haunt
There lies the root of Right. Clear spring, or shady grove, or sunny hill, That each sorrow has its purpose, Smit with the love of sacred song; but chief
By the sorrowing oft unguessed, Thee, Sion, and the flowery brooks beneath,
But as sure as the sun brings morning, That wash thy hallowed feet, and warbling
Whatever is, is best. flow, Nightly I visit; nor sometimes forget
I know that each sinful action, Those other two equaled with me in fate
As sure as the night brings shade, (So were I equaled with them in renown),
Is sometime, somewhere, punished, Blind Thamyris, and blind Mæonides,
Tho' the hour be long delayed. And Tiresias and Phineus, prophets old;
I know that the soul is aided Then feed on thoughts, that voluntary move
Sometimes by the heart's unrest, Harmonious numbers; as the wakeful bird
And to grow means often to suffer; Sings darkling, and, in shadiest covert hid,
But whatever is, is best. Tunes her nocturnal note. Thus with the I know there are no errors year
In the great Eternal plan, Seasons return; but not to me returns And all things work together Day, or the sweet approach of even or morn, For the final good of man. Or sight of vernal bloom, or summer's rose, And I know when my soul speeds onward Or, flocks or herds, or human face divine; In the grand, eternal quest, But cloud instead, and ever-during dark I shall say, as I look earthward, Surrounds me; from the cheerful ways of Whatever is, is best. men
LOVE. "HAT is what we want-love toward God and love toward man. It is said the larks of
Scotland are the sweetest singing birds of earth. No piece of mechanism that man has ever made has the soft, sweet, glorious music in it that the lark's throat has. When
the farmers of Scotland walk out early in the morning they flush the larks from the grass, and as they rise they sing, and as they sing they circle, and higher and higher they go, circling as they sing, until at last the notes of their voices die out in the sweetest strains that earth ever listened to. Let us begin to circle up, and sing as we circle, and go higher and higher, until we flood the throne of God itself, and the strains of our voices melt in sweetest sympathy with the music of the skies.
Sam. P. JONES.
But stills, with honest purposes, toil we on;
of our slips be upright, abrought,
the east, a golden light
THE HERMIT. FAR in a wild, unknown to public view, To find if books, or swains, report it right From youth to age a reverend hermit (For yet by swains alone the world he knew, grew :
Whose feet came wandering o'er the nightly The moss his bed, the cave his humble cell,
dew), His food the fruits, his drink the crystal well. He quits his cell; the pilgrim-staff he bore, Remote from men, with God he passed his And fixed the scallop in his hat before ; days,
Then, with the rising sun a journey went, Prayer all his business, all his pleasure praise. Sedate to think, and
watching each event. A life so sacred, such serene repose
The morn was wasted in the pathless grass, Seemed heaven itself, till one suggestion rose: And long and lonesome was the wild to pass ;
That vice should triumph, virtue vice obey; But when the southern sun had warmed the
His raiment decent, his complexion fair,
And, “Hail, my son!” the reverend sire reAnd skies beneath with answering colors plied. glow;
Words followed words, from question answer But, if a stone the gentle sea divide,
flowed, Swift ruffling circles curl on every side, And talk of various kinds deceived the road; And glimmering fragments of a broken sun, Till each with other pleased, and, loath to Banks, trees, and skies, in thick disorder run.
part, To clear this doubt, to know the world by While in their age they differ, join in heart. sight,
Thus stands an aged elm in ivy bound,