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He'll shield thee in affliction's storm; 2
And thou shalt wear an angel's form, 3
And stand on heavenly Zion's mount, 4

With jewelled sandals shod, 5

Clothed with white robes, and wave thy palm, 6
And celebrate the holy arm, 7

By which thy victory 's won, 8

And dwell for ever in GoD's sight,

9

And sound thy golden harp, with harpers harping loud, 10

In new Jerusalem, where floats no darkening cloud,11 Where shines no moon nor sun, 12

And where shall never more be night, 13 And where the ALMIGHTY's glory and THE LAMB are its eternal light ! 14

APOSTROPHE TO MUSIC.

OH MUSIC thou, with constant zeal,
Our friend in woe, our friend in weal;
Our guest sent down from heaven to cheer
This lonely earth so chill and drear;
Thanks for the spirit of thine hour !
I love thine all-controlling power!

2 Isaiah xli. 10. xliii. 1, 2. Heb. xiii. 5, 6. 4 Rev. xiv. 1. 5 Isaiah lxi. 10. 6 Rev. vii. 9. 1. 1 Cor. xv. 57. 9 Rev. xiv. 5. xxii. 4. 10, 11. 12 Rev. xxi. 23. 13 Rev. xxii. 5.

31 Cor. xv. 42-44, 49, 53. 7 Luke i. 51. 8 Psalm xcviii. 10 Rev. xiv. 2, 3. 11 Rev. xxi. 2, 14 Rev. xxi, 23.

MUSIC.

"All thy works shall praise thee, oh LORD,

And thy saints shall bless thee."

Ps. cxlv. 10.

THERE's music in the sullen roar
Of wild waves dashing on the shore;
There's music in the peaceful sleep
Of ocean's waters calm and deep.

There's music in the angry cry

Of tempests struggling through the sky;
There's music in the plaintive wail
Of spirits on the summer gale.

There's music in the flashings fast
Of lightnings battling on the blast;
There's music in the fearful rest
Of thunders on the mountain's crest.

There's music in the mingled light
Of bursting meteors blazing bright;
There's music in the lofty lay

Of worlds that hold their ceaseless way.

There's music in the song of love
Of young birds warbling in the grove;
There's music in the holy care

Of guardian angels pure and fair.

In music each created thing

The honors of its GoD doth sing;

The courts of heaven with music ring,
"All glory to the Eternal King!"

A SENTIMENTAL SONNET.

No HOME! no home! Would I might weep!
But loneliness refuses tears,

It burns upon the brain and sears:
Now untold sorrows saddening steep
My soul; heavy and fast they come !
Oh that I had a friend,

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one friend, On whom to rest, and who would tend, Within his heart, my friendship's home, The gift of friendship safe, and keep, With pure and pious care, the love, Which I would give, and, with a deep And sacred sympathy, approve

The struggling thoughts my heart would lend ! No home! Oh that I had a friend!

THE CHRISTIAN PILGRIM'S PASS-WORD.*

"For we are strangers before thee, and sojourners, as were all our fathers." -1 CHRON. xxix. 15.

"There remaineth therefore a rest for the people of God."— HEB. iv. 9, "These all confessed that they were strangers and pilgrims on the earth. They desire a better country, that is, an heavenly.” - HEB. xi. 13, 16.

"For here have we no continuing city, but we seek one to come."— HEB. xiii. 14.

"Seek ye the LORD, while he may be found; call ye upon him, while he is near."-ISA. lv. 6.

A CHRISTIAN pilgrim held his lonely way, His cheeks were thin and pale, his locks were gray ; Along the busy world he moved unknown, Amid the hurrying crowd he moved alone, And none, of all that gay and careless throng, Marked the poor pilgrim as he went along. With lingering step he walked, and thoughtful seemed, And melting pity from his clear eye beamed, And ever and anon the old man meek Would pause with solemn air, as if to speak, And point with outstretched arm towards the sky, And talk of God-the soul-eternity,Strange jargon-speech, and stranger dogmas these, — While onward cheered those multitudes at ease, Or, if they gazed a moment, turned away, Nor cared they what the old man sought to say;

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* Lines addressed to a young friend. Their simplicity and irregular measure will be pardoned, as appropriate to their occasion.

Till, from a merry-hearted group that passed,
A gentle girl, of all the group the last,

To where the pilgrim bent his steps, drew near,
And marked his noble brow and eye so clear,
The outward emblems, to the senses brought,
Of pure emotion and of lofty thought,-
And pitied him so dignified and mild,

And on the way-worn traveller kindly smiled.
Thus always, when he met that pageant gay,
The same sweet smile would bless him, day by day.
Such love unwonted touched the old man's heart,
While still he lingered near them, loth to part;
And often, when he watched that child so fair,
He offered up his silent, anxious prayer,
That GOD would lead her to the Saviour's fold,
And save her with his chosen ones enrolled;
And sometimes he would murmur, musingly,
This burden of his strange soliloquy.

"Sorrow intense,

With pleasure blending,

A mystic sense,

Is ever bending,

With magic power,

Upon its flight,

The passing hour,

Like maiden tending,

Within her bower,

Some feeble flower,

Or vine-stem slight.

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