"FEAR NOT."

BY T. AVELING.

WHENE'ER the clouds of sorrow roll,
And trials whelm the mind,
When, faint with grief, thy wearied soul
No joys on earth can find ;—
Then lift thy voice to God on high,

Dry up the trembling tear,
And hush the low complaining sigh;

"Fear not," thy God is near.

When dark temptations spread their snares,
And earth with charms allures,
And when thy soul, oppressed with fears,
The world's assault endures;—

Then let thy Father's friendly voice

Thy fainting spirit cheer,

And bid thy trembling heart rejoice; "Fear not," thy God is near.

And when the last, last hour shall come

That calls thee to thy rest,

To dwell within thy heavenly home,
A welcome, joyful guest ;-

Be calm-though Jordan's waves may roll,

No ills shall meet thee there;

Angels shall whisper to thy soul,

"Fear not," thy God is near