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Why need I strive and sigh for wealth? For love of us, hills, woods, and plains It is enough for me
In beauteous hues are clad; That Heaven hath sent me strength and And birds sing far and near sweet strains, health,
Caught up by echoes glad. A spirit glad and free:
* Rise," sings the lark,
your tasks to Grateful these blessings to receive,
ply!” I sing my hymn at morn and eve.
The nightingale sings " Lullaby.”
On some what floods of riches flow!
House, herds, and gold have they;
But fret their hours away.
And when the obedient sun goes forth
And all like gold appears,
And fields have ripening ears,
A vale of gloom this world they call
But, O! I find it fair: Much happiness it has for all,
And none are grudged a share. The little birds, on new-tried wing, And insects revel in the spring.
Then loud I thank the Lord above,
And say, in joyful mood,
He wills to all men good.
At midnight, on my lonely beat,
When shadow wraps the wood and lea, A vision seems my view to greet
Of one at home that prays for me. No roses bloom upon her cheek
Her form is not a lover's dream But on her face, so fair and meek,
A host of holier beauties gleam. For softly shines her silver hair,
A patient smile is on her face, And the mild, lustrous light of prayer,
Around her sheds a moon-like grace.
She prays for one that's far away,
The soldier in his holy fight-
Protect her boy and bless the Right ! Till, though the leagues lie far between,
This silent incense of her heart Steals o'er my soul with breath serene,
And we no longer are apart.
By shadowy wood and haunted lea,
TRUST IN GOD, AND DO THE RIGHT.
COURAGE, brother! do not stumble,
Though thy path be dark as night; There's a star to guide the humble;
“Trust in God, and do the right." Let the road be rough and dreary,
And its end far out of sight, Foot it bravely! strong or weary,
“Trust in God, and do the right.” Perish policy and cunning!
Perish all that fears the light! Whether losing, whether winning,
Trust in God, and do the right.”
But in every word and action,
Trust in God, and do the right.” Trust no lovely forms of passion,
Fiends may look like angels bright; Trust no custom, school, or fashion,
Trust in God, and do the right.” Simple rule, and safest guiding,
Inward peace, and inward might, Star upon our path abiding,
Trust in God, and do the right.” Some will hate thee, some will love thee,
Some will flatter, some will slight: Cease from man, and look above thee, Trust in God, and do the right.”
REV. NORMAN MACLEOD.
Trust no party, sect, or faction;
Trust no leaders in the fight;
THE LAST DAY.
GREAT God, what do I see and hear!
The end of things created :
On clouds of glory seated !
Prepare my soul to meet Him. The dead in Christ shall first arise,
At the last trumpet's sounding, Caught up to meet Him in the skies,
With joy their Lord surrounding. No gloomy fears their souls dismay; His presence sheds eternal day
On those prepared to meet Him.
But sinners filled with guilty fears
Behold his wrath prevailing; For they shall rise and find their tears
And sighs are unavailing : The day of grace is past and goneTrembling they stand before the throne,
All unprepared to meet Him.
The end of things created !
On clouds of glory seated!
THE HOUR OF DEATH.
LEAVES have their time to fall,
We know when moons shall wane, And flowers to wither at the North-wind's When Summer birds from far shall cross
breath, And stars to set-but all,
When Autumn's hue shall tinge the goldThou hast all seasons for thine own, o en grain; Death!
But who shall teach us when to look for
thee? Day is for mortal care; Eve for glad meetings round the joyous Is it when Spring's first gale hearth;
Comes forth to whisper where the violets Night for the dreams of sleep, the voice lie? of prayer;
Is it when roses in our paths grow pale? But all for thee, thou Mightiest of the They have one season-all are ours to die ! Earth!
Thou art where billows foam, The banquet hath its hour,
Thou art where music melts upon the air; Its feverish hour of mirth, and song, and Thou art around us in our peaceful wine;
home; There comes a day for Grief's o'erwhelm- And the world calls us forth—and thou art ing power,
there. A time for softer tears but all are thine!
Thou art where friend meets friend, Youth and the opening rose
Beneath the shadow of the elm to rest; May look like things too glorious for decay, Thou art where foe meets foe, and trumAnd smile at thee! but thou art not of
pets rend those
The skies, and swords beat down the That wait the ripened bloom to seize their princely crest. prey !
Leaves have their time to fall, Leaves have their time to fall,
And flowers to wither at the North-wind's And flowers to wither at the North-wind's breath, breath,
And stars to set—but all, And stars to set-but all, [Death! Thou hast all seasons for thine own, O Thou hast all seasons for thine own, 0 Death!