Pouring music like a river,

Many-toned and deep and strong.

Tones 'midst which, like childhood's, quiver Thy few notes of simple song?

Then the "crimson-tipped" thing,
Like a daisy among birds,
With a quiet glee, did sing

Strains condensed thus in words:

"Well I know the joyous mazes
Of the songs so full and fine ;-
Very faint would be God's praises,
Sounded by no voice but mine!

"Yet the little child's sweet laughter,
Wakes it no responsive smile,
Though the poet singeth after,
And the angels all the while?

"What I sing I cannot measure,
Why I sing I cannot say,
But I know a well of pleasure
Springeth in my heart all day."

So I learned that crumbs are able
Lowly hearts to fill with song-
Crumbs from off that festal table
Lowly hearts will join ere long.

He who wintry hours hath given,

With the snows gives snow-drops birth: And while angels sing in heaven,

God hears robins sing on earth.

Only keep thee on the wing,
Music dieth in the dust,

Nothing that but creeps can sing,
Soaring we can sing and trust.

“Make Thy face to shine upon Thy servant.”

HRIST, whose glory fills the skies,

Christ, the true, the only light,

Sun of righteousness, arise,

Triumph o'er the shades of night;
Dayspring from on high, be near,
Daystar, in my heart appear.

Dark and cheerless is the morn,
Unaccompanied by Thee;
Joyless is the day's return,

Till Thy mercy's beams I see,

Till they inward life impart,

Glad my eyes and warm my heart.

Visit then this soul of mine,

Pierce the gloom of sin and grief,

Fill me, radiancy divine,

Scatter all my unbelief,

More and more Thyself display,
Shining to the perfect day.

Cast me not away from Thy Presence."

WORTH from the dark and stormy sky,
Lord, to Thine altar's shade we fly;
Forth from the world, its hope and fear,
Saviour, we seek Thy shelter here:
Weary and weak, Thy grace we pray;
Turn not, O Lord, Thy guests away!

Long have we roamed in want and pain,
Long have we sought Thy rest in vain ;
Wildered in doubt, in darkness lost,
Long have our souls been tempest-tost:
Low at Thy feet our sins we lay:
Turn not, O Lord, Thy guests away!

Looking unto Jesus.

HOU, who didst stoop below
To drain the cup of woe,-
Wearing the form of frail mortality ;-

Thy blessed labours done,

Thy crown of victory won,

Hast passed from earth-passed to Thy home on high.

Man may no longer trace,

In Thy celestial face,

The image of the bright, the viewless One;

Nor may Thy servants hear,

Save with faith's raptured ear,

Thy voice of tenderness, God's only Son!

Our eyes behold Thee not,

Yet hast Thou not forgot

Those who have placed their hope, their trust in

Thee;

Before Thy Father's face

Thou hast prepared a place,

That where Thou art, there may they also be.

It was no path of flowers,

Through this dark world of ours,

Beloved of the Father, Thou didst tread;

And shall we, in dismay,

Shrink from the narrow way,

When clouds and darkness are around it spread?

O Thou, who art our life,

Be with us through the strife!

Was not Thy head by earth's fierce tempest bowed?

Raise Thou our eyes above

To see a Father's love

Beam, like the bow of promise, through the cloud.

E'en through the awful gloom

Which hovers o'er the tomb,

That light of love our guiding star shall be ;

Our spirits shall not dread

The shadowy way to tread,

Friend, Guardian, Saviour, which doth lead to Thee.

ORD, what a change within us one short hour
Spent in Thy presence will avail to make;
What burdens lighten, what temptations slake,
What parchèd grounds refresh as with a shower.
We kneel, and all around us seems to lower;
We rise, and all, the distant and the near,
Stands forth in sunny outline, brave and clear;

We kneel how weak, we rise how full of power:
Why therefore should we do ourselves this wrong,
Or others that we are not always strong,

That we are ever overborne with care,
That we should ever weak or heartless be,
Anxious or troubled, when with us is prayer,

And joy and strength and courage, are with Thee.