A HARVEST HYMN.

149

Yet I sigh for the loud-breaking billows that tossed

me,

I long to the cool coral caverns to flee;

And when guests with officious intrusion accost me,
I answer them still in the strains of the sea.
Since I left the blue deep, I am ever regretting,
And mingling with man in the regions above;
I have known them the ties they once cherished
forgetting,

Oft trust to new friendships, and cling to new love.

Ah! 'tis so hard to preserve true devotion;

Let mortals who doubt it, seek a lesson of me: I am bound by mysterious links to the ocean, And no language is mine save the sounds of the

sea.

A Baruest Bym n.

"The earth is the Lord's, and the fulness thereof."

THERE is plenty around, that the beautiful earth, Like a rich benefactor, for man bringeth forth;

150

A HARVEST HYMN.

And though man would provide for a season of need,
By cutting the harvest, and sowing the seed;
It was God gave the sunshine, the dew, and the
rain;

To nourish the bud, and to ripen the grain.

And the fruits of the earth are the gifts of His love, "For the earth is the Lord's, and the fulness thereof!"

When cold Winter reigned, and the frost and the

snow

In a chill icy mantle clothed all things below,
The trees, bleak and bare, no green foliage wore,
And the herbage and flowers seemed dead ever-

more;

But He who to all things gave birth at the first; Bade the flowers, again, in fresh glory to burst; And new verdure and bloom clothed the valley and

grove,

"For the earth is the Lord's, and the fulness thereof!"

And the fruits that in clustering richness rejoice, And the trees in the forest all send forth a voice, And the rivers and streams, as they murmur along, And the birds of the valley all join in the song,

RECOLLECTIONS ON RETIRING TO REST. 151

And mountains unchanging, for ever the same,
And all things existing together exclaim,

Through creation's wide range, in the accents of love,

"That the earth is the Lord's, and the fulness thereof!"

Recollections on Retiring to Rest.

BY BENTHAM.

Ir is good, when we lay on the pillow our head, And the silence of night all around us is spread, To reflect on the deeds we have done in the day, Nor allow it to pass without profit away.

A day—what a trifle—and yet the amount

Of the days we have passed, forms an awful account; And the time may arrive, when the world we would

give,

Were it ours, might we have but another to live.

152 RECOLLECTIONS ON RETIRING TO REST.

In whose service have we, through the day, been employed,

And what are the pleasures we mostly enjoyed? Our desires and our wishes, to what did they tend— To the world we are in, or the world without end?

Hath the sense of His presence encompassed us round,

Without whom, not a sparrow can fall to the ground? Have our hearts turned to Him with devotion most

true,

Or been occupied only with things that we view?

Have we often reflected, how soon we must go
To the mansions of bliss, or the regions of woe?
Have we felt unto God a repentance sincere,
And in faith to the Saviour of sinners drawn near?

Let us thus, with ourselves, solemn conference hold,
Ere sleep's silken mantle our senses enfold;
And forgiveness implore for the sins of the day,
Nor allow them to pass unrepented away.

Charity.

"Give to him that asketh thee, and from him that would borrow of thee turn not thou away."-MATT. v. 4.

O STAY not thy hand when the winter winds rude, Blow cold through the dwelling of want and despair, To ask if misfortune has come to the good,

Or if folly has wrought the wreck that is there.

When the heart-stricken wanderer asks thee for bread,

In suffering he bows to necessity's laws;

When the wife moans in sadness, the children unfed, The cup must be bitter-oh ask not the cause!

When the Saviour of men raised his finger to heal, Did He ask if the sufferer was Gentile or Jew? When the thousand were fed by the bountiful meal, Did He give it alone to the faithful and few?

Oh scan not too closely, the frailties of those, Whose bosoms may bleed on a cold winter's day; But give to the friendless who tells thee his woes, And "from him that would borrow, oh turn not away!"