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To curb the passions, and to mould the will;
To guide the wandering, and bring back the lost;
With Scripture truth the memory's stores to fill;
And seek the soul to save, at any cost:

To heal the youth that haunt our public ways,

Foul as the crowds that throng'd Bethesda's pool ;This is the effort of our modern days

This is the glory of the "RAGGED SCHOOL."

The band of laborers, now, though scant and small,
To see the first fruits, with delight begin;

A time will come, when, in the sight of all,

The glorious harvest shall be gathered in:
And thousands then, in heaven's unclouded calm,
Shall bow to Him who doth all nations rule,
Strike the sweet harp, and wave the victor's palm,
And bless the Saviour for the RAGGED SCHOOL."

Christians of Britain, if ye love your land,

Your land of freedom, by the TRUTH made free,
Give of your substance, that each youthful band
That truth may learn, and God's salvation see;
Cleanse not the "outside of the cup,'
"* alone;

Who does, is but a pharisaic fool;—

But, that its inward brightness may be shown,
Pray for a blessing on the "RAGGED SCHOOL."

J. P.

"THEIR GLORIOUS BEAUTY IS A FADING FLOWER."

(Isaiah, xxviii. 4.)

Why should we seek with such an earnest care,
Each new delight that gilds the passing hour,
What though they seem all lovely, bright, and fair,
"Their glorious beauty is a fading flower!"

Let us not prize earth's lovely things too well,
Soon they may wither, change is beauty's dower,
And holy words of Inspiration tell

“Their glorious beauty is a fading flower!”

Matthew xxiii. 25.

True peace! bright joy! we seek ye here in vain,
Where have ye fled, pure gems of Eden's bower?
Still is the solemn warning breathed again,

"Their glorious beauty is a fading flower!"
Weary and sad, we turn our tearful eyes
To the far hills, where tempests never lower
Up to that holy home beyond the skies,
Whose glorious beauty is no fading flower!

EARLY RISING AND PRAYER.

EVELYN B.

WHEN first thine eyes unveil, give thy soul leave
To do the like; our bodies but forerun

The spirit's duty; true hearts spread and heave
Unto their God, as flowers do to the sun;

Give Him thy first thoughts then, so shalt thou keep
Him company all day, and in him sleep.

Yet never sleep, the sun up, prayér should
Dawn with the day: there are set awful hours
"Twixt heaven and us; the manna was not good
After sunrising; far-day sullies flowers;
Rise to prevent the sun sleep doth sins glut,
And heaven's gate opens, when the world's is shut.
Walk with thy fellow creatures: note the hush
And whispering amongst them. Not a spring
Or leaf but hath his morning hymn; each bush
And oak doth know I AM. Canst thou not sing?
Oh, leave thy cares and follies! go this way
And thou art sure to prosper all the day.

Serve God, before the world; let him not go
Until thou hast a blessing; then resign
The whole unto him, and remember who
Prevailed by wrestling ere the sun did shine,
Pour oil upon the stones, weep for thy sin,
Then journey on and have an eye t' heavén.'

"Heaven rhymes here," says Mr. Payne, (Studies in Poetry) "by a most extraordinary licence with 'sin:' perhaps the pronunciation of heaven was different from ours, in Vaughan's time "

Mornings are mysteries; the first world's youth,
Man's resurrection, and the future's bud,

Shroud in their births; the crown of life, light truth,
Is styled their star; the store and hidden food :
Three blessings wait upon them; one of which
Should move they make us holy, happy, rich.
When the world's up, and every swain abroad,
Keep well thy temper, mix not with each clay,
Dispatch necessities; life hath a load
Which must be carried on, and safely may :

Yet keep those cares without thee; let the heart
Be God's alone, and choose the better part.

Vaughan.

GOOD COUNSEL.

[The following lines are modernized from the “Good Counsaile” of Geoffrey Chaucer, the father of English poetry, and derive additional interest from the fact of their having been written on his death bed. The nobility of truth and soberness, breathes through every verse, and they afford strong hope that their author was a much sounder protestant at heart, than is generally supposed.] FLEE from the crowd; and dwell with truthfulness,

And with thy good—tho small—be satisfied,
Hoarding hath hate; and climbing, slipperiness;
And wealth is blind, though wooed on every side.
Nothing affect that seems to thee denied;

Read well thyself, who other folks wouldst read,
And, fear not, Truth will be thy friend in need.
Pain not thyself to see all wrong redressed,

Trusting to Fortune, fickle, aye, and frail—
The less thou hast of business, the more rest,
Also beware to spurn against a nail-
A crock, if dashed against a wall, must fail.
Judge of thine own, as of another's deed,
And, fear not, Truth will be thy friend in need.
All that is sent receive with cheerfulness,

For wrestling with the world but courts a fall-
Thou has no home in this vast wilderness,

Forth! pilgrim-Forth! O beast out of thy stall;
Look up on high, and thank thy God for all.
Forego thy lusts, and let the Spirit lead,
And, fear not, Truth shall be thy friend in need.

"THE GOOD TIME COMING."

Now Misery shivers at the rich man's door,
Suing compassion for a scanty dole;
That, for a little longer space, the soul
May be knit to its clayey frame, before
(Mocking the prison-semblance that it bore,)

It is released from biting need's controul,
Free as the air-gusts circling round the pole,
Or the wild breakers dashing on the shore.
Far on the eastern hills, bright dawns the day,
I see it-dimly visioned from afar,
Mercy resigns her yet unquestioned sway,

And Justice enters on triumphal car.

The poor shall live by Law, not by Love's mite,
And not beg life, but claim it as their right.

ENIGMA.

[Answers in verse are requested.]

THREE words there are, to each believer known,
The first, oft makes him tremble, weep, and groan,
Felt by the man who first beheld the day,
And reigning still with universal sway;
The second, offspring of the first, abounds
Where'er poor erring mortals' voices sound;
The third, my first and second word destroys,
And fills the soul with more than mortal joys;
But, that the answer you may easier see,
One letter is the first in all the three;
The third, is thrice, the second, twice as long
As my first word, and thus I end my song.

S. X.

C. M.

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