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Good night! good night! each joyous tone

Is hushed in silence now;

And I am left to weep alone,

And sorrow clouds my brow;
The young, the beautiful, the brave,
Play-mates of early years,

Have, one by one, passed to the grave,
Death stayed not for my tears.

Grief, bitter grief, my heart pervades,
When sunshine rests on all ;
But oh! it is as day-light fades,
The longest shadows fall;
And saddest are my feelings, when
Day veils itself from sight;

For no glad voices murmur then,
The loving words, "Good night."

And yet why should I mourn that those
I love are early blest;

Life's chequered day will shortly close,

And I, with them, shall rest;

How sweet will our re-union prove,

In that fair world of light,

Where tears are never linked with love,

And “there shall be no night."

Brighton.

H. M. W.

"TO WHOM SHALL WE GO?" (John vi. 68.

To whom shall we go, in the season of youth,
When fancy's bright visions seem founded on truth,
Ere the brow has been shaded by sorrow or care,
And hope paints the future in colors most fair?

To whom shall we go, in life's solemn decline,
When earth's light allurements compelled to resign,
When the frail bending form, and the locks few and gray,
Tell the tale of infirmity, age, and decay?

To whom shall we go, when in some peaceful clime,
Our bark calmly glides down the current of time,
No rude, stormy blast breaks the tranquil repose,
And earth for awhile appears stripp'd of her woes ?
To whom shall we go, when affliction or sin
Has implanted an arrow which rankles within;
When the soul in deep waters is sinking, opprest,
And eagerly seeks some kind haven of rest?

To whom shall we go, as that season draws nigh,
When friends watch around to receive the last sigh;
When the soul is preparing, uncloth'd and alone,
To take flight for a world, unexplor❜d, and unknown?
Dear Lord! in all seasons to Thee should we go;
Thou hast peace, which the world cannot give, to bestow;
Thy love passeth knowledge, unchanging, divine,

And the promise of life everlasting is Thine!

Caldicot.

CHARLOTTE.

THE SACERDOTAL GARMENT.-(PSALM CXXXII. 9.)

THE priest of Rome tells us, each ornament
Of his poor frippery, hath a meaning hid;
And so the weak, deluded ones are bid
The semblance to receive, that men invent.

The upper vest, the purple, and the gold,
Figure the seamless coat that did infold
The Holy Form-the coat that none divide ;
In girdle, maniple, and stole, we see

The cords that bind the Lord, the Crucified !
How strangely with rough cords do they agree!
But the priest likens them,-and it must be.

O thou deceivéd one, so dark, so blind!
Turn to the Holy Book, and you may find
The saintly garment, and the fitting dress-

"Let the Lord's priest be cloth'd with righteousness."

E. J A.

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THE

YOUTHS' MAGAZINE;

OR,

EVANGELICAL MISCELLANY.

MAY, 1846.

POOL OF SILOAM.

Ar the juncture of the valleys of Hinnom and Jehoshaphat, which enclose Jerusalem on its south and east sides, a narrow, circuitous ravine dividing the mountains of Zion and Moriah, and called the valley of the Tyropoeon, branches off in a northerly direction. At its entrance, the Pool of Siloam, represented in our engraving, is situated, though the fountain from which it is supplied has its origin at a considerable distance.

The accounts which have come down to us of this place, so interesting from its connexion with Holy Writ, are somewhat contradictory, as are also the pictorial representations, owing probably in some instances to the variety of appearances it presents under different circumstances, and more especially such as are consequent on the occurrence of wet or dry seasons.

Probably the best description of it is to be found in the Church of Scotland's "Narrative of a Mission of Enquiry to the Jews," a work to which we have frequently had occasion to refer, and which well deserves the attentive perusal of all our young readers.

66

Passing under the rocky face of Ophel," says this account, we came to the Pool of Siloam. It is in the

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