There is a fair land in a sweet southern clime, Which God, in His providence working sublime, A happy new home, which He wills you to seek, And hope in your bosom, and health on your cheek, Of tenderness waiting you there! The valleys are rich, and the mountains are green, To the distant horizon o'ershadow the scene, Then, haste for your happiness,—joyfully haste For, Providence calls you to gladden the waste, A Call to the Rich. (In aid of Mr. Sydney Herbert's exertions on behalf of distressed Needlewomen.) ✪ Christian patriots, men of mighty heart! To happier shores where penury's hard gripe And from old England this reproach to wipe That, crowded up in corners of the land, Virtuous toil can starve in sorrow's den! Up! use your wealth aright; and prove its worth By generous aid to yonder homeless band, Who look to you to find them homes on earth. Come as you are. A RHYME FOR RAGGED SCHOOLS. (Widely Circulated.) Come to the school that your friends are preparing, Just as you stand, in the clothes you are wearing, Come from the alley, the lane, and the passage, Don't be downhearted, if fools for an hour Laugh at your schooling and treat it with scorn; Answer them truly, that "Knowledge is Power," And that a blockhead were better unborn; Laugh as they may, your laugh will be longest, Your's is for ever, their's but for once; Soon shall they own you both wisest and strongest; Scholars must govern the fool and the dunce! Yes, my boys, come! without fear or suspicion, And we would better it more if we could; So then come over, young scholars, and listen, Helping yourselves, as in honour you ought! We'll tell you things that'll make your eyes glisten, Brighten the spirit, and heighten the thought: Come then, and welcome, in rags and in tatters, Anyhow come, but as clean as you can ; Come and learn gladly these glorious matters, All the best rights in the duties of Man! A Missionary Ballad. (Given, instead of a solicited Lecture, to the Church of England Young Men's Society, for aiding Missions at home and abroad.) A call to do good from the east to the west! A call from the SAVIOUR, beside Him to stand Then,-(for the soldiers of Heaven's true host Then, let the banner of grace be unfurl'd Sure is your work of a blessed reward, Ye serve a good Master in serving the LORD; It is well,-ye are water'd yourselves for your weal! But,—it is better! yet more shall ye earn,— Fons Parnassi. THE SOLACE OF SONG. Eber babbling, ever bubbling, Fons Parnassi! free and flowing, O they lie who say that Song Not an anthem sweet and strong Rich in Spiritual treasure That to Seraphs might belong, Not a tender consolation All the cares of life among, Not the balm of broad creation In this maze of right and wrong,— K |