Imatges de pÓgina

One quiv'ring gasp, one parting pang-
And all is o'er."

The soul has burst her bonds of clay,
And upward flies

To view the living splendour of a day
Too bright for mortal eyes.


"WHILE they behold your chaste conversation, coupled with fear.

"Whose adorning, let it not be that outward adorning of plaiting the hair, and of wearing of gold, or of putting on of apparel:

"But let it be the hidden man of the heart, in that which is not corruptible, even the ornament of a meek and quiet spirit, which is in the sight of God of great price."-1 Peter iii. 2, 3, 4.

Meck is her lowly mien-the loving grace
Of Christ, her God and Saviour, we can trace;

Quiet and chaste her speech, with modest


She treads her onward path of service here.
Nor would she make this wilderness a home,
But seeks a better city yet to come.
Wisdom and meekness to her words belong,
The law of kindness dwelleth on her tongue;
Not hers the busy gossip's tattling voice,
Which in another's failings would rejoice,
And tell her tales of scandal to a score

Of eager listeners, greedy still for more.
Not so the Christian-though her footsteps


In ready willingness to deeds of love;
To soothe the couch of agony and pain,
The weak and fainting spirit to sustain.
The poor and needy find a listening ear
To all their wants and woes, nor ever fear
The short and cold reply, the harsh rebuke,
Or sparing morsel doled with freezing look.

But willingly she takes of her own store,
To clothe the naked strangers at her door.
No gold, no glittering gem her brow adorns,
For Christ her Saviour wore a crown of

Nor would she wear the costly garb of pride, But the white robe wrought for a heavenly bride;

Her only ornament, the spirit meek,

And quiet mind her Father's child should seek.

So dwells she here-no pride of outward show,
But seeking chief her Master's will to know;
Like Mary sitting at her Saviour's feet,
In trusting love, and resignation sweet.
Waiting till He she longs for, shall appear,
To close her work of loving service here;
Till Christ her Lord in glorious power shall


And call His children to their heavenly home.


"Put on the whole armour of God, that ye may be able to stand against the wiles of the devil."-Eph. vi. 11.

GIRD thine armour around thee,

Thou saint of the Lord,

On thine arm bear the buckler,
Unsheath the good sword.
Though foes are surrounding
Thy path on each side,
In God's might abounding,

No harm shall betide.

Though Satan may meet thee

In dreadful array,

The sword of the Spirit

Shall chase him away.


The darts of the wicked,

May fly all around;

But quenched by thy shield, They shall fall to the ground.

Then Christian, march forward, "Be strong in the Lord,"

Thy glory is certain,

And sure thy reward.

Thy Saviour has triumphed,

And conquered thy foes,

And with Jesus for ever,

Thy soul shall repose.

« AnteriorContinua »