CHERUB BAND.

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GOD LOOKED AMONG HIS CHERUB BAND.

GOD looked among his cherub band,

And one was wanting there,

To swell along the holy land

The hymns of praise and prayer.

One little soul which long had been
Half way 'tween earth and sky,
Untempted in a world of sin,

He watched with loving eye.

It was too promising a flower
To bloom upon this earth,
And God did give it angel power,
And bright celestial birth.

The world was all too bleak and cold

To yield it quiet rest,

God brought it to his shepherd-fold

And laid it on his breast.

There, mother, in thy Saviour's arms,

For ever undefiled,

Amid the little cherub band,

Is thy beloved child.

FUNERAL HYMN.

WHERE the long reeds quiver,
Where the pines make moan,
By the forest river

Sleeps our babe alone.

England's field-flowers may not deck his grave,
Cypress shadows o'er him darkly wave.

Woods unknown receive him,

Midst the mighty wild;

Yet with God we leave him,

Blessed, blessed child!

And our tears gush o'er his lonely dust,
Mournfully, yet still from hearts of trust.

Though his eye hath brightened

Oft our weary way,

And his clear laugh lightened

Half our heart's dismay;

Still in hope we give back what was given,
Yielding up the beautiful to heaven.

FUNERAL HYMN.

And to her who bore him,

Her who long must weep,
Yet shall heaven restore him,

From his pale, sweet sleep!

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Those blue eyes of love and peace again Through her soul will shine, undimmed by pain.

Where the long reeds quiver,

Where the pines make moan,
Leave we by the river

Earth to earth alone!

God and Father! may our journeying's on
Lead to where the blessed boy is gone!

From the exile's sorrow,

From the wanderer's dread,

Of the night and morrow,

Early, brightly fled;

Thou hast called him to a sweeter home,
Than our lost one o'er the ocean's foam.

Now let thought behold him

With his angel look,

Where those arms enfold him,

Which benignly took

Israel's babes to their good Shepherd's breast,

When His voice their tender meekness blessed.

Turn thee now, fond mother!
From thy dead, oh, turn!
Linger not, young brother,

Here to dream and mourn!

Only kneel once more around the sod,
Kneel, and bow submitted hearts to God.