Through whom, for us, eternal stands
That heavenly house, not made with hands, -
When this frail dwelling sets us free,
Quench thou, in life, mortality.

FRIENDSHIP WITH CHRIST.

"Nevertheless, I am continually with thee; thou hast holden me by my right hand."- Ps. lxxiii. 23.

WHEN, in the hours of lonely woe,
I give my sorrows leave to flow,
And anxious fear and dark distrust
Weigh down my spirit to the dust;
When not e'en friendship's gentle aid
Can heal the wounds the world has made
O, this shall check each rising sigh,-
Thou, Saviour, art for ever nigh.

Jesus! in whom, but thee above,
Can I repose my trust, my love?
And shall an earthly object be
Loved, in comparison with thee?
Thy counsels and upholding care
My safety and my comfort are;
Thou, Lord, shalt guide me all my days,
Till glory crown the work of grace.

My flesh is hastening to decay,

-

Soon shall the world have passed away,

And what can mortal friends avail,

When heart and strength and flesh shall fail!

But, O, be thou, my Saviour, nigh,

And I will triumph while I die;

My strength, my portion, is divine,

And Jesus is for ever mine!

CHRIST'S CARE.

"Master, carest thou not that we perish? "—.

SUCH was the disciples' cry,

Mark iv. 38.

When the crested waves beat high,
And the heavens above were dark,
O'er the tempest-driven bark.

Such, O Lord, in trial's hour,
When afflictions round us lower,
Now, on life's tempestuous sea,
Our complaining cry to thee.

But thou didst not, though upbraided,
Leave thy followers then unaided;
Prompt to succor, swift to save,
Thou rebukedst wind and wave.

At the word which spoke thy will,
Every stormy wind was still;

At thy voice the waves subsided,
And in gentlest murmurs glided.

Though their faith, too often frail,
In thy power divine might fail;
Though thou mightst reprove their fear,
Still thy saving arm was near.

Thus, O Lord, on us look down,
When above us clouds may frown ;

Tossing on a stormy sea,
Helpless, hopeless, but for thee.

Should we deem ourselves forgot,
Let thy mercies fail us not;
But, in doubt's distrustful hour,
Magnify thy love and power.

LOOKING UNTO JESUS.

Heb. xii. 2.

THOU, who didst stoop below,
To drain the cups of woe,

Wearing the form of frail mortality,

Thy blessed labors done,

Thy crown of victory won,

Hast passed from earth,— passed to thy home on

high.

Man may no longer trace,

In thy celestial face,

The image of the bright, the viewless One;
Nor may thy servants hear,

Save with faith's raptured ear,

Thy voice of tenderness, God's holy Son!

Those who have placed their hope, their trust, in thee; Before thy Father's face

Thou hast prepared a place,

That where thou art, there they may also be.

It was no path of flowers,

Through this dark world of ours,

Beloved of the Father, thou didst tread;

And shall we in dismay

Shrink from the narrow way,

When clouds and darkness are around it spread?

O Thou, who art our life,

Be with us through the strife!

Was not thy head by earth's fierce tempests bowed? Raise thou our eyes above,

To see a Father's love

Beam, like the bow of promise, through the cloud.

Even through the awful gloom,

Which hovers o'er the tomb,

That light of love our guiding star shall be;

Our spirits shall not dread

The shadowy way to tread,

Friend, Guardian, Saviour, which doth lead to thee.

LOVE TO CHRIST.

"Who shall separate us from the love of Christ?"- Rom. viii. 25.

THOUGH Sorrows rise and dangers roll
In waves of darkness o'er my soul;
Though friends are false and love decays,
And few and evil are my days;
Though conscience, fiercest of my foes,
Swells with remembered guilt my woes;
Yet even in nature's utmost ill,

I love thee, Lord! I love thee still!

Though Sinai's curse, in thunder dread,
Peals o'er mine unprotected head,
And memory points, with busy pain,
To grace and mercy given in vain,
Till nature, shrinking in the strife,
Would fly to hell to 'scape from life;
Though every thought has power to kill,
I love thee, Lord! I love thee still!

O, by the pangs thyself hast borne,
The ruffian's blow, the tyrant's scorn;