And rolling in its glorious way
Beyond the furthest comet's ray.

To him alike the living stream,
And the dull regions of the grave;
All watched, protected all by him
Whose eye can see, whose arm can save,
In the cold midnight's dangerous gloom,
Or in the dark prison of the tomb.

Thither we hasten-as the sand

Drops in the hour-glass, never still;
So, gathered in by Death's rude hand,
The storehouse of the grave we fill;
And sleep in peace, as safely kept,
As when on earth we smiled or wept.

What is our duty here?—to tend

From good to better-thence to best;
Grateful to drink life's cup,-then bend
Unmurmuring to our bed of rest;

To pluck the flowers that round us blow,
Scattering their fragrance as we go.

And so to live, that when the sun
Of our existence sinks in night,
Memorials sweet of mercies done

May 'shrine our names in memory's light;
And the blest seeds we scattered bloom
A hundredfold in days to come.

BOWRING.

RETIREMENT.

(HRICE happy he who, far in Scottish glen Retired, (yet ready at his country's call), Has left the restless emmet-hill of man! He never longs to read the saddening tale,

Of endless wars; and seldom does he hear
The tale of woe; and ere it reaches him,
Rumour so loud when new, has died away
Into a whisper, on the memory borne
Of casual traveller :-As on the deep,
Far from the sight of land, and all around
Is waveless calm, the sudden tremulous swell
That gently heaves the ship, tells, as it rolls,
Of earthquakes dread, and cities overthrown.

GRAHAME.

RETIREMENT.

AR from the world, O Lord! I flee,
From strife and tumult far;

From scenes where Satan wages still

His most successful war.

The calm retreat, the silent shade,
With prayer and praise agree;
And seem, by thy sweet bounty, made
For those who follow thee.

There if thy Spirit touch the soul,
And grace her mean abode,

Oh, with what peace, and joy, and love,
She communes with her God!

There, like the nightingale, she pours

Her solitary lays,

Nor asks a witness of her song,

Nor thirsts for human praise.

Author and Guardian of my life,
Sweet source of light divine,
And (all harmonious names in one)
My Saviour, thou art mine!

Pop in ar

let the iternal M. &

sfon his o

we then to presence fall.
De tas Pas

An hon of cap, tranqobity,

Shot a. it to clome Thee?

Yes, the Crear Ir visible,

I ri m's seat divine, Mayor thus earth to dwell.

Now, the soler in though, pervice
In alle my hotp pare
the, vel awe,

Had diet, as", like (be*. Set, 1.
Bladed be thy gat mare.cy.

Then turn my world's therrats with

Tɔlla conır ri

And, purified from taip of a ",

And earth's po Ador let lae et

um gerament Love

Ady majesty, hy love;

ve which er all is shed-
eworthless as the jus

g the stars dove cur head,
awing bezucy out of lust;

iss;