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No excessive heat they feel

From the sun's director ray; In a milder clime they dwell, Region of eternal day.

He that on the throne doth reign,
Them the Lamb shall always feed;

With the Tree of Life sustain,

To the living fountains lead:
He shall all their sorrows chase,
All their wants at once remove;

Wipe the tears from every face;

Fill up every soul with love.

WESLEY.

NATIVE SCENES.

O Native scenes, nought to my heart clings nearer Than you, ye Edens of my youthful hours;

Nought in this world warms my affections dearer,
Than you, ye plains of white and yellow flowers;
Ye hawthorn hedge-rows and ye woodbine bowers,
Where youth has roved, and still where manhood
roves,

The pasture pathway 'neath the willow groves,
Ah, as my eye looks o'er those lovely scenes,
All the delights of former life beholding;
Spite of the pain, the care that intervenes,-
When loved remembrance in her bliss unfolding,
Picking her childish posies on your greens,—
My soul can pause o'er its distress awhile,
And sorrow's cheek find leisure for a smile.

CLARE.

QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS.

Q. Flowers wherefore do ye bloom?
A. We strew thy pathway to the tomb.

Q. Stars, wherefore do ye rise?

A. To light thy spirit to the skies.

Q. Fair moon, why dost thou wane?

A. That I may wax again.

Q. O sun, what makes thy beams so bright?
A. The word that said,-"Let there be light."

Q. Time, whither dost thou flee?

A. I travel to eternity.

Q. Eternity, what art thou, say?

A. I was, am, will be evermore--to-day

Q. Nature, whence sprang thy glorious frame? A. My Maker called me, and I came.

Q. Winds, whence and whither do ye blow? A. Thou must be "born again" to know.

Q. Ocean, what rules thy swell and fall?
A. The might of Him that ruleth all.

Q. Planets, what guides you in your course? A. Unfelt, unseen, unfailing force.

Q. O life, what is thy breath?
A. A vapour vanishing in death.

Q. O grave where is thy victory?
A. Ask him who rose again from me.

L

Q. O death, where ends thy strife?

A. In everlasting life.

MONTGOMERY.

KNOW THYSELF.

To know ourselves-how hard the task!
Whilst pride conceals th' unwelcome truth;
From our own faults to pluck the mask,
Is difficult for age, as youth.

May gracious heaven to me impart
Such portion of that skill divine,

As may ameliorate my heart,

And check each sinful thought of mine.

SISSON.

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