God hath prepared for Chem a City.” OUR home is a land where the echoes are ringing Through groves by the feet of the seraphim trod; Where the fountains of wisdom eternally springing, Roll on their bright streams to the city of God. In that land, the fair trees of Eternity growing, Form a dwelling of bliss that no storm can invade, And the flowers of delight,in its vales that are blowing, Are unchill'd by a blast, and unstain'd by a shade. There, there we shall seize on our heavenly treasure, And nought shall our souls from their happiness sever, We'll dwell on the banks of that river of pleasure, And drink of its waters for ever and ever. There the sorrows of parting no more shall affright us, When past are the griefs of this time-wasting story; Nor the grave shall divide, nor shall death disunite us, Eternally join'd in the fulness of glory. What then is the grave? though so wild and uncheering, To us its dim vale speaks of triumph to come; We hail with delight the dark portal appearing! That grave is earth's limit; and heaven is our home! GOD HATH PREPARED FOR THEM A CITY. The pilgrim of life sees no danger impending, 173 To dim his rejoicing, or shroud him in gloom; His Saviour closed up the dark cave in ascending, And, wing'd with delight, he outrises the tomb. Even then, when from earth and its weariness flying, Let the child of the earth doat on scenes that have perish'd ; To visions of fancy his spirit enslave, Till he sees the vain hope, that so long he has cherish'd, Sink down in the ashes that cover his grave; We haste to our home! and, on earth though forsaken, Though Love still desert us, and Friendship deny; Our God is our rest, and his promise our beacon, That guides through the midnight of worlds to the sky, J. G. B. PEGG. Fall of the Leaf. SEE the leaves around us falling, Dry and wither'd to the ground; Thus to thoughtless mortals calling, In a sad and solemn sound : "Sons of Adam, once in Eden, Blighted whence, like us, ye fell: Hear the lecture we are reading; "Tis, alas! the truth we tell. Virgins, much, too much presuming On your boasted white and red; View us, late in beauty blooming, Number'd now among the dead. "Griping misers, nightly waking, "Sons of honour, fed on praises, Fluttering high in fancied worth ; Lo, the fickle air, that raises, Brings us down to parent earth. FALL OF THE LEAF. "Learned sophs, in systems jaded, 175 "Youths, though yet no lessons grieve you, Venerable sires, grown hoary, Hither turn th' unwilling eye; Think, amid your fading glory, Autumn tells a winter nigh. "Yearly in our course returning, "On the tree of life eternal, Man, let all thy hopes be stay'd; Which alone for ever vernal, Bears 'a leaf that shall not fade."" BISHOP HORNE. M Che Passion of Christ. YES, thou didst die for me, O Son of God! Alone on God's right hand, Before the angels were, the Eternal, Eldest Born. Thy birthright in the world was pain and grief: In peace tongue cannot tell, Nor heart conceive the bliss of thy celestial state. They dragg'd thee to the Roman's solemn hall; Where the proud judge in purple splendour sate; Thou stoodst a meek and patient criminal, Thy doom and death from human lips to wait; Whose throne shall be the world In final ruin hurl'd, With all mankind to hear their everlasting fate. |