He changes not. 201 The vanish'd light of all a life That tiny spot encloseth, Where, follow'd by a thousand dreams, It is a place where thankfulness That one so pure hath left a world Where so much sorrow liveth- It is a place for hope to rise, From Him who spake the blessed words,-- He changes not. J. E. CARPENTER.—Music by J. W. Cherry. H E changes not, but is the same for ever; Yearning for something that we ne'er may know. He changes not-His goodness is unfailing; Guide us, weak pilgrims, with Thy helping hand; Weep, Children of Israel. WE T. MOORE.-Air, Stevenson. WEEP, weep for him, the man of God—* But none of earth can point the sod† His doctrine fell like heaven's rain, Oh, ne'er shall Israel see again A chief to God and her so true. Weep, children of Israel, weep. Remember ye his parting gaze, He saw the Promised Land-and died. ‡ Yet died he not as men who sink, *Deut. xxxiv. 8. † Deut. xxxiv. 6. Deut. xxxiv. 4. 203 The Reading Girl. The Reading Girl. J. E. CARPENTER.-Music by W. Vincent Wallace. N the sunshine, in the daytime, IN Sat a girl beneath the tree, In the younger children's playtime, Then a Temple seem'd the wild wood, For I felt a presence near me; In my soul arose this prayer :- Thoughts devoid of worldly strife, Thus to read the Book of Life." THE Music. MRS FRANCES S. OSGOOD. `HE Father spake! In grand reverberations Through space roll'd on the mighty music-tide, While to its low majestic modulations The clouds of chaos slowly swept aside. The Father spake-a dream, that had been lying Heard the pure melody and low replying, Grew to that music-slowly, grandly waking, Nor yet has ceased that sound-His love revealing, Though, in response, a universe rolls by! Throughout eternity, its echo pealing World after world awakes in glad reply! And wheresoever, in His rich creation, Sweet music breathes-in wave, or bird, or soul 'Tis but the faint and far reverberation Of that great tune to which the planets roll! The Child and the Dew-Drops. The Child and the Dew-Drops. J. E. CARPENTER.-Music by J. L. Hopkins. "FATHER, dear father, why pass they away, 205 The dew-drops that sparkled at dawning of day— That glitter'd like stars by the light of the moon, Oh, why are those dew-drops dissolving so soon? Does the sun, in his wrath, chase their brightness away, As though nothing that's lovely might live for a day? The moonlight has faded—the flowers still remain, But the dew has dried out of their petals again." "My child," said the father, "look up to the skies, To mourn not earth's fair things though fleeting away? Alas for the father!-how little knew he The words he had spoken prophetic could be; That the beautiful child,—the bright star of his day,— And thought of his child and the dew-drops-in heaven. |