There they enjoy for evermore, in that bright world of bliss,

A more than ample recompense for all the toils of this!

And shall we murmur, doubt or faint ?-Oh! rest assured there lies,

Within each faithful Christian's reach, the same all-glorious prize;

From the same blessed source obtained—a fountain full and free

Oh! draw our hearts in faith and hope, Redeemer unto thee!

* A WORD OF COMFORT.

COMFORT take, thou child of sorrow,
All is ordered well for thee;
Look not to the anxious morrow,

"As thy day, thy strength shall be."

Child of grief, does this world move thee?
Transient scene of transient pain!
Think! oh think! of worlds above thee,
Countless worlds-a glorious train!

There are mansions now preparing
For the chosen sons of God-
Here, a pilgrim and wayfaring,
There shall be thy long abode!

There shalt thou abide for ever

With thy best and greatest Friend; Nought from Him, thy soul shall sever, In a world that knows no end.

There amidst assembled nations,
Eye to eye, and face to face;
Thou shalt see thy tribulations

Sent as messengers of grace.

Comfort take, thou child of sorrow,
All is ordered well for thee;
Look not to the anxious morrow,
"As thy days, thy strength shall be.”

CHRIST PRECIOUS.

"Unto you therefore who believe, he is precious." 1 Pet. ii. 27.

MEN may trouble and distress me,
'Twill but drive me to thy breast;
Life with trials hard may press me,
Heaven will bring me sweeter rest.

Oh, 'tis not in grief to harm me,
While thy love is left to me;
Oh! 'twere not in joy to charm me,
Were that joy apart from Thee.

AT HOME IN HEAVEN.

1 Thess. iv. 17.

"FOREVER with the Lord!" Amen-so let it be!

Life from the dead is in that word, 'Tis immortality.

Here in the body pent,

Absent from Him I roam,

Yet nightly pitch my moving tent, A day's march nearer home.

My Father's home on high,
Home of my soul how near;

At times to Faith's foreseeing eye
Thy golden gates appear!

Ah! then my spirit faints,
To reach the land I love,

The bright inheritance of saints,
Jerusalem above!

But clouds will intervene
And all my prospect flies,
Like Noah's dove, I flit between
Rough seas and stormy skies.
Anon-the clouds depart

The winds and waters cease,

And sweetly o'er my troubled heart,
Expands the bow of peace.

Beneath its glowing arch,
Along the hallowed ground,

I see cherubic armies march,
A camp of fire around.

I hear at morn and even,
At noon and midnight hour,
The choral harmonies of Heaven,
Earth's babel tongues o'erpower.

Then then I feel that He,
Remembered or forgot,