HEAVENLY JOYS.-P. M.
Here we suffer grief and pain,
Here we meet to part again,
In heaven we part no more:
Oh, that will be joyful,
Joyful, joyful, joyful!
Oh, that will be joyful,
When we meet to part no more!
All who love the Lord below,
When they die, to heaven will go,
And sing with saints above:
Oh, that will be joyful,
Joyful, joyful, joyful!
Oh, that will be joyful,
When we meet to part no more!
Little children will be there,
Who have sought the Lord by prayer,
From every Sunday school;
Oh, that will be joyful,
Joyful, joyful, joyful!
Oh, that will be joyful,
When we meet to part no more!
Teachers, too, will meet above,
And our pastors, whom we love,
Will meet to part no more;
Oh, that will be joyful,
Joyful, joyful, joyful!
Oh, that will be joyful,
When we meet to part no more!
Oh, how happy we shall be,
For our Saviour we shall see
Exalted on His throne;
Oh, that will be joyful,
Joyful, joyful, joyful!
Oh, that will be joyful,
When we meet to part no more!
There we shall sing with joy,
And eternity employ
In praising God, the Lord;
Oh, that will be joyful,
Joyful, joyful, joyful!
Oh, that will be joyful,
When we meet to part no more!
SCHOOL ANNIVERSARY.-8. 7.
Holy Father, grant thy blessing,
On thy children gathered here;
May their faith and love increasing
Be renewed from year to year.
Parents, teachers, friends uniting,
Humbly would we seek thy face,
Jesus' sacred voice inviting
To thy free, redeeming grace.
Him our Shepherd, gently leading,
May we follow young and old;
On His pasture ever feeding,
May we form one happy fold.
May His gospel of salvation
Welcome spread from shore to shore!
Till the blest of every nation
Meet in heaven to part no more.
AGAINST IDLENESS AND MISCHIEF.—
How doth the little busy bee
Improve each shining hour,
And gather honey all the day
From every opening flower!
How skilfully she builds her cell!
How neat she spreads the wax!
And labours hard to store it well
With the sweet food she makes.
In works of labour, or of skill,
I would be busy too;
For Satan finds some mischief still
For idle hands to do.
In books, or works, or healthful play
Let my first years be past:
That I may give for every day
Some good account at last.
TIME AND ETERNITY.-C. M.
How long sometimes a day appears!
And weeks-how long are they !
Months move along, as if the years
Would never pass away.
But months and years are passing by,
And soon must all be gone;
For day by day, as minutes fly,
Eternity comes on.
Days, months, and years must have an end;
Eternity has none!
'Twill always have as long to spend,
As when it first begun!
Great God, we children cannot tell
How such a thing can be;
But only pray that we may dwell
That long, long time with Thee.
HEAVEN OR THE BETTER LAND.-P. M.
I hear thee speak of a better land,
Thou call'st its children a happy band;
Mother, oh! where is that radiant shore?
Shall we not seek it and weep no more?
Is it where the flower of the orange blows,
And the fire-flies dance thro' the myrtle boughs?
Not there; not there-my child.
Is it where the feathery palm trees rise,
And the date grows ripe under sunny skies?
Or 'midst the green islands of glittering seas,
Where fragrant forests perfume the breeze,
Or strange bright birds on their starry wings,
Bear the rich hues of all glorious things?
Not there; not there-my child.
Is it far away in some region old,
Where the rivers wander o'er sands of gold?
Where the burning rays of the ruby shine,
And the diamond lights up the secret mine,
And the pearl gleams forth from the coral strand—
Is it there, sweet mother, that better land?
Not there; not there-my child.
Eye hath not seen it, my gentle boy,
Ear hath not heard its deep songs of joy;
Dreams cannot picture a world so fair,
Sorrow and death may not enter there;
Time doth not breathe on its fadeless bloom :
For beyond the clouds, and beyond the tomb,
'Tis there; 'tis there-my child.
I live for those who love me,
For those I know are true,
For the heaven that smiles above me,
And awaits my spirit too.
For all human ties that bind me,
For the task by God assigned me,
For the bright hopes left behind me,
And the good that I can do.
I live to learn their story
Who've suffered for my sake,
To emulate their glory,
And follow in their wake;
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