G. ELLIS.

OF this author the Editor has met with no account. The stanzas here inserted are taken from a poem-by him, entitled "The Lamentation of the Lost Sheep, 1605," in which the sentiments of a returning penitent are expressed with truth and effect.

G. ELLIS.

THE SINNER'S CRY TO HIS SAVIOUR.

By that sweet name, which name we invocate
When sable sadness doth oppress the heart,
For whose dear sake our still-declining state
Finds comfort in the midst of sorrow's smart-
I pray in my lament, thou act a part:
Restore me, that in sinful ways am lost,

And, Shepherd! save thy sheep that's almost lost!

Oh, light of heaven! thou wast extinct on earth, Yet to our souls celestial life dost give,

Thy death our life, thy rising our new birth;

Thou with thy heavenly blessings dost relieve, Thou, three days dead, didst make us ever live: Thou, at whose death obscur'd were earth and sky, Reduce me to the right, that run awry.

Fountain of grace! from whom doth, only, run Water of life, to save our souls from death! Oh, Saviour of the world! pure Virgin's Son. That in red earth' infus'd first vital breath, Joining thy Godhead with humanity!

The name, Adam, signifies red earth.

Oh thou, whose name was called Emanuel!-
My sin-stain'd soul from danger save of hell.

Ancient of days, and yet still young in years!

Oh, God on earth! Oh man, yet most divine! Poor in this world, the chief of heavenly peers, Whose glory in the infernal pit did shine,— Oh thou, whose praise both saints and angels sing,

Stay my sin-following steps from death's dread

hands,

That threat as many sorrows as are sands!

Oh, God of times, and yet in time a man!
Before all times thy time of being was;
And yet in time thy human birth began,

Lest we should fade untimely, like the grass,Thou that hast said thy word shall never pass, And thou that dost all times begin and end,Vouchsafe, thy comfort to my sad soul send.

I come in clouds of grief, with pensive soul,
Sending forth vapours of black discontent
To fill the concave circle of the pole,

And with my tears bedew each continent,
For straying from the fold of sweet content:
Thou art all mercy-from thy mercy's throne
Make me, in number, one amongst thine own.