Teach me some melodious sonnet,
Sung by flaming tongues above;
Praise the mount; I'm fix'd upon it!
Mount of God's unchanging love.

Here I raise my Ebenezer ;

Hither, by Thine help, I'm come; And I hope, by Thy good pleasure, Safely to arrive at home.

Jesus sought me when a stranger,
Wandering from the fold of God;
He, to rescue me from danger,
Interposed with precious blood.

Oh, to grace how great a debtor
Daily I'm constrain'd to be!
Let that grace now, like a fetter,
Bind my wandering heart to Thee.

Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it;
Prone to leave the God I love;
Here's mine heart-oh, take and seal it!
Seal it from Thy courts above.

CHRISTMAS HYMN.

MIGHTY God, while angels bless Thee,

May an infant lisp Thy name?

Lord of men, as well as angels,

Thou art every creature's theme.
Hallelujah!

Hallelujah, hallelujah. Amen!

Lord of every land and nation,

Ancient of eternal days,

Sounded through the wide creation

Be Thy just and lawful praise.
Hallelujah, etc.

For the grandeur of Thy nature,

Grand beyond a seraph's thought; For created works of power,

Works with skill and kindness wrought. Hallelujah, etc.

For Thy providence that governs

Through Thine empire's wide domain; Wings an angel, guides a sparrow; Blessed be Thy gentle reign. Hallelujah, etc.

But Thy rich, Thy free redemption,
Dark through brightness all along;
Thought is poor, and poor expression;
Who dare sing that awful song?
Hallelujah, etc.

Brightness of the Father's glory,
Shall Thy praise unutter'd lie?
Fly, my tongue, such guilty silence;
Sing the Lord who came to die.
Hallelujah, etc.

Did archangels sing Thy coming?
Did the shepherds learn their lays?
Shame would cover me, ungrateful,
Should my tongue refuse to praise.
Hallelujah, etc.

From the highest throne in glory,
To the cross of deepest woe,
All to ransom guilty captives;
Flow, my praise, for ever flow.
Hallelujah, etc.

Go, return, immortal Saviour!

Leave Thy footstool, take Thy throne; Thence return, and reign for ever;

Be the kingdom all Thy own.

Hallelujah, etc.

ALFRED ROOKER.

ALFRED ROOKER is the only son of the late Rev. William Rooker, a minister of the Congre. gational Church. He was born at Tavistock, Devonshire, on the 1st April, 1814. He practises as a solicitor, at Plymouth. Mr. Rooker has written hymns for special occasions, but has not collected his compositions into a volume.

OPENING OF SABBATH MORNING SERVICE.

(Contributed.)

OH be with us, gracious Father,
Whilst before Thy feet we bow;

Let the angel of Thy presence
Hover o'er Thy temple now.

Here are hearts that Thou canst soften;
Earthly dross to purge away;
Darken'd minds, on which Thy spirit
Yet may pour celestial day.

From the world's entrancing vision;
From the spirit's sullen night;
From the tempter's dark dominion,—
Free us, by Thy saving might.

Let Thy Spirit's glad communion
Waken thoughts of peace and love,
And prepare us for Thy presence,
In the nobler courts above.

There to join in perfect worship,
There to swell the angels' song ;
And in higher, sweeter measure,
Earth's imperfect praise prolong.

CLOSE OF SABBATH EVENING SERVICE.

(Contributed.)

'Tis gone the sacred day is o'er,

And we must leave its rest awhile;
Oh! may our waiting hearts once more
Be gladden'd with the Master's smile.

So shall this love our spirits raise,
While at the cross we kneel in prayer ;
Dear Saviour, Thine be all the praise
If we have left our burdens there.

Spirit of holiness and power!

Spirit of truth and love Divine ! Thy presence cheers this closing hour; Still dwell with us, for we are Thine.

For the pure manna of Thy word,

And streams of life so richly given; As pilgrims here, we bless Thee Lord, But wait the perfect rest of heaven.

Sweet hope! a few more changing days And weary cares our faith shall try; Then for the songs of nobler praise, The ceaseless Sabbath of the sky.

HYMN TO THE SAVIOUR.

(Contributed.)

Isaiah lx. 20.

WHEN the sky is overcast,

And the cold rain driveth fast;

When the soul is bow'd with fear,

Jesus, full of mercy, hear!

Dreary clouds are hurrying by,
Moon nor star is in the sky;
Saviour, in the gloom of night,
Give Thy waiting children light.

See the cross, for light is there;
Kneel, for Jesus answers prayer;
Is the spirit sunk with grief?
Saviour, Thou canst bring relief.

Christian, bravely hope and pray;
Wait the dawning of the day;
Clouds are drifting from the sky;
Christ, thy hope and help, is nigh.

See, in yonder mountain height,,
Breaks a flood of glorious light;
Rise, and with a song confess,
'Tis the Sun of righteousness.

Brighter still its beams shall shine
In the land of love Divine;
Where no clouds of sorrow come,
In the saint's eternal home,

MRS. ELIZABETH ROWE.

ELIZABETH SINGER was born at Ilchester, Somersetshire, on the 11th September, 1674So early as her twelfth year, she composed verses of considerable merit. At the age of twenty-six, she became the wife of Mr. Thomas Rowe, a gentleman of a good family. After five years of wedded life, Mrs. Rowe was left a widow. She now settled at Frome, Somerset. shire, devoting herself to literary pursuits. Her "Letters from the Dead to the Living." obtained wide popularity. She died at Frome, on the 20th February, 1737. Two years after her death, Dr. Watts published her "Devout Exercises of the Heart." The hymns which follow have been transcribed from her "Miscellaneous Works in Prose and Verse," 1756, 2 vols., 8vo, fourth edition.

BEGIN THE HIGH CELESTIAL STRAIN.

BEGIN the high celestial strain,

My ravish'd soul, and sing
A solemn hymn of grateful praise

To heaven's almighty King.

Ye purling fountains, as ye roll
Your silver waves along,
Whisper to all your verdant shores
The subject of my song.