They are no more.

THEY are no more! O dull and drear.

Sound those bereaving, mournful words; Affliction finds no wilder tear

Mem❜ry no darker doom records; Not in our homes, not by our side,

Move the bright beings we deplore; The hearts which love hath sanctified,

They are no more!,

O breathes there one that hath not known
The parting word-the dying look-
While in the soul grief walk'd alone,

And every pulse with anguish shook:
Some cherish'd one that bless'd him there,
And pass'd-as sunlight from the shore?
Woe! woe! the young-the loved-the fair-
They are no more,

The music of their lips hath fled,

Their grace and beauty pass'd away; Yet lives the presence of the dead

Within our souls, as light in day!

A fresher light shall burst the tomb,
And all the blessèd lost restore;

Unknown those words of wail and gloom

They are no more!

CHARLES SWAIN.

The Living and the Vead.

WHERE ARE THE DEAD? In heaven or hell,
Their disembodied spirits dwell;—
Their buried forms, in bonds of clay,
Reserved until the judgment-day.

Who are the dead? The sons of time
In every age, and state, and clime:
Renown'd, dishonour'd, or forgot,

The place that knew them knows them not.

Where are the living? On the ground
Where prayer is heard and mercy found:
Where, in the period of a span

The mortal makes th' immortal man.

Who are the living? They whose breath
Draws every moment nigh to death:
Of bliss or woe th' eternal heirs :
O what an awful choice is theirs.

Then, timely warn'd, may we begin
To follow Christ and flee from sin;
Daily grow up in Him our Head,
Lord of the living and the dead.

J, MONTGOMERY.

Christian Love.

"Marvel not, my brethren, if the world hate you: we know that we have passed from death unto life, because we love the brethren."-1 John iii. 13, 14.

THE clouds that wrap the setting sun

When Autumn's softest gleams are ending, Where all bright hues together run

In sweet confusion blending:

*Why, as we watch their floating wreath,
Seem they the breath of life to breathe?
To Fancy's eye their motions prove
Thy mantle round the Sun of love.

When up some woodland dale we catch
The many-twinkling smile of ocean
Or with pleased ear bewilder'd watch
. His chime of restless motion :
Still, as the surging waves retire,
They seem to gasp with strong desire ;
Such signs of love old Ocean gives,
We cannot choose but think he lives,
Wouldst thou the life of souls discern?

Nor human wisdom nor divine
Helps thee to aught besides to learn;
Love is life's only sign.

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CHRISTIAN LOVE.

The spring of the regenerate heart,
The pulse, the glow of every part,
Is the true love of Christ our Lord
As man embraced, as God adored!

But he whose heart will bound to mark
The full, bright burst of summer morn,
Loves, too, each little dewy spark
By leaf or flow'ret worn;

Cheap forms, and common hues, 'tis true,
Through the bright shower-drop meet his view;
The colouring may be of this earth;

The lustre comes of heavenly birth.

Even so, who loves the Lord aright,
No soul of man can worthless find;
All will be precious in his sight,

Since Christ on all hath shined:
But chiefly Christian souls; for they,
Though worn and soil'd with sinful clay,
Are yet, to eyes that see them true,
All glistening with baptismal dew:

Then marvel not, if such as bask
In purest light of innocence,
Hope against hope, in love's dear task,
Spite of all dark offence.

If they who hate the trespass most,

Yet, when all other love is lost,

CHRISTIAN LOVE.

Love the poor sinner, marvel not;

Christ's mark outwears the rankest blot.

No distance breaks the tie of blood;
Brothers are brothers evermore;
Nor wrong, nor wrath of deadliest mood.
That magic may o'erpower;

Oft, ere the common source be known,
The kindred drops will claim their own,
And throbbing pulses silently

Move heart towards heart by sympathy.

So is it with true Christian hearts!
Their mutual share in Jesu's blood,
An everlasting bond imparts

Of holiest brotherhood:

O might we all our lineage prove,
Give and forgive, do good and love,
By soft endearments in kind strife
Lightening the load of daily life!

There is much need; for not, as yet,
Are we in shelter or repose,

The holy house is still beset

With leaguers of stern foes;

Wild thoughts within, bad men without,

All evil spirits round about,

Are banded in unblest device,

To spoil Love's earthly paradise.

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