Springing in valleys green and low, Our outward life requires them not; To beautify the earth. MARY HOWITT. THE SUNDAY SCHOOL. GROUP after group are gathering. Such as pressed And holy words their ruby lips repeat, Oft with a chastened glance, in modulation sweet. Yet some there are, upon whose childish brows Look up, ye sad ones!-'tis your Father's house, Beneath whose consecrated dome you are; More gorgeous robes ye see, and trappings rare, And watch the gaudier forms that gaily move, And deem, perchance, mistaken as you are, The "coat of many colours" proves His love, Whose sign is in the heart, and whose reward above. And ye, bless'd labourers in this humble sphere, Come forth to gird the weak untutored mind,— Of grateful love,-one tear of contrite pain,Meekly ye forfeit to your mission kind The rest of earthly Sabbaths.-Be your gain A Sabbath without end, mid yon celestial plain. MRS. SIGOURNEY. THE SABBATH MORN. WELCOME once more, delightful morn! The hours how sweet, the day how blest, I love to meet the little throng Their wing'd devotions warmly breath'd, O what a feast! how richly spread! The radiant beauties of his face. What inward peace the saints possess; What though yon rising sun must set, There is an endless sabbath day That knows no eve, knows no decline; Where Christ shall his bright beams display, And all his splendid glories shine. There is the humble christian's rest, When he shall cease to breathe this air; Shall rise in full fruition there. FRANCIS CROSS. SABBATH EVENING. Is there a time when moments flow A sabbath eve in summer's tide. Oh! then the setting sun smiles fair; The different forms of nature wear, And then the peace that Jesus beams, Delightful scene! a world at rest, If heaven be ever felt below, Delightful hour! how soon will night Yet there will dawn, at last, a day; EDMESTON. A DIRGE. "EARTH to earth, and dust to dust!" Here the evil and the just, Here the youthful and the old, Here the sword and sceptre rust— 66 Earth to earth, and dust to dust!" Age on age shall roll along, O'er this pale and mighty throng; Brothers, sisters of the worm, Song of peace, or battle's roar, Ne'er shall break their slumbers more. Death shall keep his sullen trust— 66 Earth to earth, and dust to dust!" |