impressions produced on my mind by recent mercies be durable as well as lively. May my spared life be devoted to thy glory; and may I remember that the sentence which dooms me to the dust is only suspended, and that, at most, when a few years shall come, I shall go the way whence I shall not return. May I live, therefore, with eternity in view, and give diligence to secure the one thing needful.

I ask all in the name of my Saviour, through whom to thee be glory and praise for evermore. Amen.

137

Selections of Poetry.

As down in the sunless retreats of the ocean,
Sweet flowers are springing no mortal can see,
So, deep in my soul, the still prayer of devotion,
Unheard by the world, rises silent to Thee,
My God! silent to Thee—

Pure, warm, silent to Thee.

As still to the star of its worship, though clouded,
The needle points faithfully o'er the dim sea,
So, dark as I roam, in this wintry world shrouded,
The hope of my spirit turns trembling to Thee,
My God! trembling to Thee

True, fond, trembling to Thee.

HE sendeth sun, he sendeth shower,
Alike they're needful for the flower;
And joys and tears alike are sent
To give the soul fit nourishment.
As comes to me or cloud or sun,
Father! thy will, not mine, be done.

Can loving children e'er reprove
With murmurs, whom they trust and love?
Creator! I would ever be

A trusting, loving child to thee.

As comes to me or cloud or sun,

Father! thy will, not mine, be done.

Oh! ne'er will I at life repine-
Enough that thou hast made it mine.
When falls the shadow cold of death,
I yet will sing with parting breath,-
As comes to me or shade or sun,
Father! Thy will, not mine, be done.

CHAMBER of sickness! much to thee I owe,
Though dark thou be;

The lessons it imports me most to know,
I owe to thee !

A sacred seminary thou hast been,

I trust, to train me to a happier scene.

Chamber of sickness! suffering and alone,
My friends withdrawn,

The blessed beams of heavenly truth have shone
On me, forlorn,

With such a hallowed vividness and power

As ne'er were granted to a brighter hour.

Chamber of sickness! 'midst thy silence, oft
A voice is heard,

Which though it fall like dew on flowers, so soft,
Yet speaks each word

Into the aching heart's unseen recess,

With power no earthly accents could possess.

Chamber of sickness! in that bright abode
Where there is no more pain,

If, through the mercy of my Saviour God,

A seat I gain,

This theme shall tune my golden harp's soft lays That in thy shelter passed my earthly days.

O Father! in that hour,

When earth all succoring power
Shall disavow;

When spear, and shield, and crown,
In faintness are cast down,
Sustain us, thou!

By him who bowed to take
The death-cup for our sake,
The thorn, the rod;
From whom the last dismay
Was not to pass away;
Aid us, O God!

Tremblers beside the grave,
We call on thee to save,
Father divine!

Hear, hear our suppliant breath,
Keep us in life and death,
Thine, only thine!

FATHER! that in the olive shade,
When the dark hour came on,

Didst, with a breath of heavenly aid,
Strengthen thy Son;

Oh, by the anguish of that night

Send us down blest relief;

Or to the chastened, let thy might
Hallow this grief!

And thou, that when the starry sky

Saw the dread strife begun,