He roll'd the seas, and spread the skies,— Made valleys sink, and mountains rise,— The meadows clothed with native green,— And bade the rivers glide between.

But what are seas, or skies, or hills,
Or verdant vales, or gliding rills,
To wonders man was born to prove?
The wonders of redeeming love!

'Tis far beyond what words express,
What saints can feel, or angels guess.
Angels, that hymn the great I Am,
Fall down and veil before the Lamb.

The highest heavens are short of this;
'Tis deeper than the vast abyss;
'Tis more than thought can e'er conceive,
Or hope expect, or faith believe.

Almighty God sigh'd human breath;
The Lord of life experienced death;
How it was done we can't discuss,
But this we know, 'twas done for us.

Blest with this faith, then let us raise
Our hearts in love, our voice in praise;
All things to us must work for good,
For whom the Lord hath shed His blood.

Trials may press of every sort;

They may be sore-they must be short;
We now believe, but soon shall view
The greatest glories God can show.

TO THE HOLY SPIRIT.

COME, Holy Spirit, come;
Let Thy bright beams arise;

Dispel the darkness from our minds,
And open all our eyes.

T

Cheer our desponding hearts, Thou heavenly Paraclete; Give us to lie with humble hope At our Redeemer's feet.

Revive our drooping faith,
Our doubts and fears remove,
And kindle in our breasts the flame
Of never-dying love.

Convince us of our sin,

Then lead to Jesus' blood;

And to our wondering view reveal
The secret love of God.

Show us that loving Man
That rules the courts of bliss:
The Lord of hosts, the mighty God,
The eternal Prince of peace.

'Tis Thine to cleanse the heart,

To sanctify the soul,

To pour fresh life on every part,

And new create the whole.

If thou, celestial Dove,
Thine influence withdraw,

What easy victims soon we fall
To conscience, wrath, and law!

No longer burns our love;
Our faith and patience fail;

Our sin revives, and death and hell
Our feeble souls assail.

Dwell therefore in our hearts,

Our minds from bondage free; Then shall we know and praise and love The Father, Son, and Thee.

SINNERS INVITED TO CHRIST.

COME, ye sinners, poor and wretched,
Weak and wounded, sick and sore;
Jesus ready stands to save you,
Full of pity, joined with power :
He is able,

He is willing: doubt no more.

Come, ye needy, come and welcome; God's free bounty glorify;

True belief and true repentance,

Every grace that brings us nigh,

Without money

Come to Jesus Christ and buy.

Let not conscience make you linger,
Nor of fitness fondly dream;
All the fitness He requireth
Is to feel your need of Him.
This He gives you—
'Tis the Spirit's rising beam.

Come, ye weary, heavy laden,
Bruised and broken by the fall;

If you tarry till you're better,
You will never come at all.
Not the righteous,

Sinners Jesus came to call.

View Him grov'ling in the garden,
Lo, your Maker prostrate lies!
On the bloody tree behold Him;
Hear Him cry before He dies-
"It is finish'd!"

Sinners, will not this suffice?

Lo, the incarnate God ascended,
Pleads the merit of His blood;
Venture on Him, venture wholly,
Let no other trust intrude.

None but Jesus

Can do helpless sinners good.

Saints and angels, join'd in concert,

Sing the praises of the Lamb;
While the blissful seats of heaven
Sweetly echo with His Name.
Hallelujah!

Sinners here may sing the same.

LADY FLORA HASTINGS.

LADY FLORA HASTINGS was the eldest daughter of Earl Moira, afterwards Marquis of Hastings. Her mother was Countess of Loudoun in her own right; she married Earl Moira in 1804. Lady Flora was born at Edinburgh, on the 11th February, 1806. On attaining womanhood, she was appointed lady of the bedchamber to Her Royal Highness the Duchess of Kent. She died, unmarried, on the 5th July, 1839. A posthumous volume of poems, from her pen, was published in 1841, edited by her sister, the Marchioness of Bute. Edinburgh. 8vo.

THANK-OFFERING.

IN every place, in every hour,
Whate'er my wayward lot may be;
In joy or grief, in sun or shower,
Father and Lord, I turn to Thee.

Thee, when the incense-breathing flowers
Pour forth the worship of the spring,
With the glad tenants of the bowers
My trembling accents strive to sing.

Thee, when upon the frozen strand

Winter, begirt with storms, descends;
Thee, Lord, I hail, whose gracious hand
O'er all a guardian care extends.

Thee, when the golden harvests yield
Their treasures to increase our store;

Thee, when through ether's gloomy field
The lightnings flash, the thunders roar.

Thee, when athwart the azure sky
Thy starry hosts their mazes lead,
And when Thou sheddest from on high
Thy dewdrops on the flowery mead.

Thee, when my cup of bliss o'erflows; Thee, when my heart's best joys are fled; Thee, when my breast exulting glows; Thee, while I bend beside the dead.

Alike in joy and in distress,

O let me trace Thy hand Divine ; Righteous in chast'ning, prompt to bless, Still, Father, may Thy will be mine.

FAITH AND HOPE.

O THOU, who for our fallen race,
Didst lay Thy crown of glory by ;
And quit Thy heavenly dwelling-place,
To clothe Thee in mortality.

By whom our vesture of decay,

Its frailty and its pains, were worn ; Who, sinless, of our sinful clay

The burden and the griefs hast borne.

Who, stainless, bore our guilty doom;
Upon the Cross to save us bled;
And who, triumphant from the tomb,
Captivity hast captive led;

O teach Thy ransom'd ones to know
Thy love who diedst to set them free;
And bid their torpid spirits glow

With love which centres all in Thee.

And come, triumphant Victim, come,
In the brightness of Thy holy love :
And make this earth, our purchased home,
The image of Thy courts above.