TRUST IN THE LORD.

"Blessed is the man that trusteth in the Lord, and whose hope the Lord is."-Jer. xvii. 17.

CEASE thou from man. Oh, what to thee,

Can thy poor fellow mortals be?

Are they not erring, finite, frail?
What can their utmost aid avail?

Their very love will prove a snare;
Then, when thy heart becomes aware
Of its own danger, it will bleed
For leaning on a broken reed.

Why does thy bliss so much depend,
On earthly relative, or friend?
There is a Friend who changes never,
The love He gives, He gives forever.

· He has withdrawn thee now apart,
To teach these lessons to thy heart;
Has darkened all thy earthly scene,
That thou on Him alone mayest lean.

His precious love that balm supplies,
For which thy wounded spirit sighs,
That only medicine can make whole
The weary, faint and sin-sick soul.

Go to that Friend, poor aching heart,
He knows how desolate thou art;
He waits-He longs to see thee blest,
And in Himself to give thee rest.

Guard well thy lips, none, none can know What evils from the tongue may flow; What guilt, what grief may be incurred By one incautious hasty word.

COME TO ME.

"Come unto me all ye that labour, and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest."-Matt. xi. 28.

WITH tearful eyes I look around,
Life seems a dark and stormy sea;
Yet, midst the gloom, I hear a sound,
A heavenly whisper, "Come to me."

It tells me of a place of rest

It tells me where my soul may flee;
Oh! to the weary, faint, oppressed,
How sweet the bidding, "Come to me."

When the poor heart with anguish learns
That earthly props resigned must be,
And from each broken cistern turns,
It hears the accents, 66 Come to me.'

When against sin I strive in vain,
And cannot from its yoke get free,
Sinking beneath the heavy chain,
The words arrest me, "Come to me."

When nature shudders, loath to part,
From all I love, enjoy and see,

When a faint chill steals o'er my heart,

A sweet voice utters, "Come to me."

"Come, for all else must fail and die,
Earth is no resting-place for thee.
Heavenward direct thy weeping eye,
I am thy Portion, "Come to me."

O voice of mercy! voice of love!
In conflict, grief, and agony,
Support me, cheer me from above!

And gently whisper, "Come to me."

THOU GOD SEEST ME.

"When my spirit was overwhelmed within me, then thou knewest my path."-Psalm cxlii. 3.

My God! whose gracious pity I may claim, Calling thee "Father,"-sweet endearing name!

The sufferings of this weak and weary frame, All, all are known to Thee.

From human eye 'tis better to conceal
Much that I suffer, much I hourly feel,

But, oh, this thought does tranquillize and heal,

All, all is known to Thee.

Each secret conflict with indwelling sin,

Each sick'ning fear, "I ne'er the prize shall win,"

Each pang

from irritation, turmoil, din,

All, all are known to Thee.

When in the morning unrefreshed I wake,

Or in the night but little rest can take;