Saving Help. 45 Speak Gently. G. W. LANGFORD.-Music by Miss Lindsay. PEAK gently! it is better far SPE To rule by love than fear; Speak gently! let not harsh words mar The good we might do here. Speak gently to the little child; Speak gently to the young, for they Will have enough to bear : Pass through the world as best they may, Speak gently to the aged one, Speak gently! 'tis a little thing, Dropp'd in the heart's deep well; The good, the joy that it may bring, Eternity shall tell. Saving Help. MRS CECIL FRANCES ALEXANDER. HEN wounded sore the stricken soul WHEN Lies bleeding and unbound, One only hand, a piercèd hand, Can salve the sinner's wound. When sorrow swells the laden breast, When penitence has wept in vain One only stream, a stream of blood, 'Tis Jesus' blood that washes white, His hand that brings relief, His heart that's touch'd with all our joys And feeleth for our grief. Lift up Thy bleeding hand, O Lord; Unseal that cleansing tide e; We have no shelter from our sin, But in Thy wounded side. I Nature and Heaven. BISHOP HEBER. PRAISED the earth, in beauty seen With garlands gay of various green; I praised the sea, whose ample field Shone glorious as a silver shield; And earth and ocean seem'd to say, "Our beauties are but for a day." I praised the sun, whose chariot roll'd Angel of Charity. I praised the moon, whose softer eye O God! O good beyond compare ! Death of a Christian. FELICIA HEMANS. 'ALM on the bosom of thy God, CA Fair spirit, rest thee now! E'en while with ours thy footsteps trod, His seal was on thy brow. Dust, to its narrow house beneath! Soul, to its place on high! They that have seen thy look in death ANGEL of Charity, who, from above, Comest to dwell a pilgrim here, Thy voice is music, thy smile is love, 47 When on the shrine of God were laid Hope and her sister, Faith, were given There, lost in perfect bliss, they die.* Shall on His throne of thrones abide, · Not to Myself Alone. S. W. PARTRIDGE. OT to myself alone," "N° The little opening flower transported cries, "Not to myself alone I bud and bloom; With fragrant breath the breezes I perfume, The butterfly within my cup doth hide "There Faith shall fail, and holy Hope shall die, Not to Myself Alone. "Not to myself alone," The circling star with honest pride doth boast,"Not to myself alone I rise and set; I write upon night's coronal of jet, HIS power and skill who form'd our myriad host: That man might ne'er forget, in every fate, "Not to myself alone," The heavy-laden bee doth murmuring hum,- Content if this repay my ceaseless toil- "Not to myself alone," The soaring bird, with lusty pinion, sings,- I cheer the drooping with my warbling tongue, I call the worldling from his dross to turn, "Not to myself alone," The streamlet whispers on its pebbly way,- D 49 |