TO A CHRISTIAN BROTHER IN THE WILDS OF

"The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear? the Lord is the strength of my life; of whom shall I be afraid?-Psalm xxvii. 1.

CHRISTIAN pilgrim, far away,
Where the wolf and panther stray,
O'er the pine-wood's trackless sod,—
Ne'er by human footstep trod.
Grieve not thus alone to be,

Christ is near to solace thee;
He was once a man of woe,

In this dreary world below;
Passed through danger and distress,

Fasted in the wilderness.

Proved the subtle tempter's power,

In that lonely, trying hour,

And his loving spirit feels,

For the gloom that o'er thee steals,
When no footstep save thine own,
Breaks the silence, and alone

Thou must pass the weary day,
And the long dark night away.
God the Father called thee,

In the Church of Christ to be;

Jesus left his throne on high,
Died for thee on Calvary.

Sealed thee by His Spirit's power,
For his own till that blest hour,
When His waiting saints shall rise,
Swift to meet Him in the skies.

SALVATION.

"Unto him that loved us, and washed us from our sins, in his own blood,

And hath made us kings and priests unto God and His Father; to Him be glory and dominion for ever and ever, Amen."-Rev. i. 5, 6.

I SING His praise who ransomed me,
And shed His blood to set me free:
He saved my soul from endless night,
And turned my darkness into light.

From Christ and Zion far away,
The roaring lion marked his prey:
I was an outcast, lost, undone,

But Jesus claimed His chosen one.

He fought my fight, and won the crown,
And for my life His own laid down;

He bore my sins upon the tree,

From death and hell He rescued me.

Dear Saviour take this faithless heart,

And let it ne'er from Thee depart!;
But may my eye for ever be,

Firm and unwav'ring, fixed on Thee.

THE MOON AND THE CHURCH.

"Who is she that looketh forth as the morning, fair as the moon, clear as the sun, and terrible as an army with banners?-Canticles vi. 10.

ORB of beauty! that on high
Shinest in the clear blue sky,

With thy pale, yet radiant light,

Through the long and cheerless night.

Whence thy silvery lustre, say,

With its soft and placid ray?

"I am dark and black alone,

And these beams are not my own,

From the bright sun's glorious blaze

I derive my borrowed rays;

And his light reflects on me,

All its rich intensity."

Church of Christ! thou lovely bride,

Dwelling at thy Saviour's side;

Fairer than the shining moon,

Clearer than the sun at noon;
Whence the beauty, tell us now,
That adorns thy radiant brow?

"I've no beauty of my own,
I am vile and poor alone,

All my loveliness I bring,

Fresh and clear from Christ the Spring:

He reflects His light on me,

Clothes me in His purity.

"When I weep he dries my tears,

Soothes my sorrows, calms my fears,