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From Greenland's Jcy Mountains.

BISHOP HEBER.-Music by Sir H. Bishop.

'ROM Greenland's icy mountains,

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From India's coral strand,
Where Afric's sunny fountains

Roll down their golden sand,
From many an ancient river,
From many a palmy plain,
They call us to deliver

Their land from error's chain.

What though the spicy breezes
Blow soft o'er Ceylon's isle,
Though every prospect pleases,
And only man is vile;
In vain with lavish kindness
The gifts of God are strown,
The heathen in his blindness
Bows down to wood and stone.

Can we whose souls are lighted
With wisdom from on high,
Can we to men benighted
The lamp of life deny!
Salvation! O Salvation!
The joyful sound proclaim,

Till each remotest nation

Has learnt Messiah's Name.

Waft, waft, ye winds, His story,
And you, ye waters, roll,

Till like a sea of glory

It spreads from pole to pole,

Wisdom.

Till o'er our ransom'd nature

The Lamb for sinners slain,
Redeemer, King, Creator,

In bliss returns to reign. Amen.

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Sound the Loud Timbrel.

THOMAS MOORE.—Air, Avison.

OUND the loud timbrel o'er Egypt's dark sea,

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Jehovah has triumph'd-His people are free.
Sing! for the pride of the tyrant is broken,

His chariots, his horsemen all splendid and brave.
How vain was their boasting! the Lord hath but spoken,
And chariots and horsemen are sunk in the wave.
Sound the loud timbrel o'er Egypt's dark sea,
Jehovah has triumph'd-His people are free.

Praise to the Conqueror, praise to the Lord;
His breath was our arrow, His word was our sword.
Who shall return to tell Egypt the story

Of those she sent forth in the hour of her pride?
For the Lord hath look'd out from His pillar of glory,
And all her brave thousands are dash'd in the tide.
Sound the loud timbrel o'er Egypt's dark sea,
Jehovah has triumph'd-His people are free.

E

Wisdom.

WILLIAM COWPER.

RE God had built the mountains,

Or raised the fruitful hills;

Before He fill'd the fountains

That fed the running rills;

In me, from everlasting,
The wonderful I AM
Found pleasures never wasting,
And Wisdom is my Name.

When, like a tent to dwell in,
He spread the skies abroad,
And swathed about the swelling
Of Ocean's mighty flood;

He wrought by weight and measure,
And I was with Him then :
Myself the Father's pleasure,
And Mine, the sons of men.

Thus Wisdom's words discover
Thy glory and Thy grace,
Thou everlasting Lover
Of our unworthy race!
Thy gracious eye survey'd us
Ere stars were seen above;
In wisdom Thou hast made us,
And died for us in love.

And couldst Thou be delighted
With creatures such as we,
Who, when we saw Thee, slighted
And nail'd Thee to a tree?
Unfathomable wonder!

And mystery divine!

The voice that speaks in thunder,
Says, "Sinner, I am thine!"

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Another year hath fled, renew,

As down in the sunless retreats of the ocean;

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Bound upon th' accursed tree,

Brightest and best of the sons of the morning,

Brother, thou art gone before us,

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Come not, O Lord, in the dread robe of splendour,

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Fallen is thy throne, O Israel,

Far o'er the wave when the winds are asleep,
Father of all, supremely great,

For ever with the Lord,

Forgive, bless'd shade, the tributary tear,

Forth in Thy name, O Lord, I go,

For ever! it is written on,

Forth from the ark the sacred dove,

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For Thou wert born of woman; Thou didst come,

For mercies countless as the sands,

Friend after friend departs,

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Hark! hark! my soul, angelic songs are swelling,
Hark! how all the welkin rings,

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