Then listen from beneath the sod,

It cries" Prepare to meet thy God!"

"Remember now thy Creator in the days of thy youth, while the evil days

come not, nor the years draw nigh, when thou shalt say, I have no pleasure in them."-ECCL. xii. 1.

The pulse of feeling moved thee,
The fire of passion warmed;
The breast of woman loved thee-
Whilst thee her witchery charmed.

The lips of youth caressed thee,
And all fond things were thine;
The hand of children pressed thee,
Thy heart was feeling's shrine.

SCOTLAND'S WARBLER.

That genius bright and glowing,

That music on the gale! Those strains so gently flowing, That softly melting tale!

Oh! thou couldst well unravel
The spirit's pathless maze;
For oft 'twas thine to travel
Its dark mysterious ways;

And 'mid high ether soaring
On wings of light and love,
Full oft thy voice was pouring
Like sky-lark, from above.

The transports of thy being

To kindred minds are known;

No earth-born ken is seeing

The track thy steps have gone.

Like thought on airy pinion,
Like sea-bird in its flight,
'Twas thine to seek dominion
Among the worlds of light.

But hark! from heaven's high portal,
A voice salutes mine ear;
It speaks that man is mortal,
And bids our spirits fear.

Salvation's lamp is burning-
Let genius mark its ray,
And there with transport turning,
Salute the orient day!

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Let mind with each loved treasure,
To Christ its powers resign;
Whilst grace that knows no measure,

Does in His person shine!

"Thou art my lamp, O LORD: and the LORD will lighten my darkness." -2 SAM. xxii. 29.

HONORIA.

I LOOK through life's long vista, where the sun

Who

With lambent ray,

many a golden course of light has run,
Foretels the day.

And there a chastened spirit I behold

In pilgrim form;—

Those lips methinks, can many a tale unfold

Of darkling storm,

When clouds have gathered round her-and her path
Desert and lone,

But ill has cheered the wanderer, since to death.
Her joys have flown.

She weeps her "buried loves;" but from yon heaven A voice she hears:

"Mourner let all thy plaints to me be given, "And dry thy tears!"

HONORIA.

And now that soul takes courage-tutored now
In things divine,

She learns with all her earthly gifts, to bow
At heaven's pure shrine.

Time was when fashion's gay, tumultuous throng
That breast could fill,-

Genius could charm-and music's syren song
Sweet joys distil.

Then did she weave her story, and engage
The ear of sense;

And dazzle youth, and gild the dreams of age
With gay pretence.

But now that soul learns wisdom-and her pen
Well used to paint

In glowing lineaments, the face of men ;—
Portrays the saint.

A light is round that head-that beaming eye
Speaks heavenly love-

And gazes up to immortality,

In worlds above.

Hope is her anchor, and from thraldom free

She serves her God

;

Sustained by faith, she walks at liberty
Where those have trod,

The ransomed and redeemed-for her Lord

Has fill'd that heart;

And much she loves His precepts-whilst His word
Doth peace impart.

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She drinks of that pure fountain-and holds on
Her pilgrim way;—

I looked where faith with rainbow lustre shone

Herald of day!

"Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen."-HEB. xi. 1.

THE TEMPLE WORSHIPPER.

Ar morning's dawn, at evening's close,
To heaven thy hallowed offerings rose:
Thy morning vows, thy evening prayer,
Were heard in heaven-and answered there.
Like freshening dews from earth that rise
To rainbow lustre in the skies,

And shine and glitter in the ray
Poured from the golden fount of day,
Then falling cheer this world of ours
With floods of pure translucent showers—
Whilst nature's heritage of green

Smiles out in beauty's radiant mien;
Thus in our hearts the dew of

Finds oft a spirit resting-place,

grace

Whilst showers like these prevail to bless
The soul's uncultured wilderness.

Thus to the breast's mysterious home,

Thought, hallowed thought prevails to come;