(XXXIV.) DEATH OF A YOUNG CHRISTIAN.

["And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain: for the former things are passed away." Rev. xxi. 4.]

LIKE the fair flower, that's cropped in early spring,
Hushed is thy heart, and dimmed thy beauty's bloom;
But memory still around thy dust shall cling,
Affection haunt thee e'en beyond the tomb.

Though clothed in light, and risen to joys divine,
Lost to the world and all its empty charms,
Once more our tears would freely flow with thine,
Once more we'd clasp thee fondly to our arms.
But, oh, forbear, the cherished thought forego,
And hush to peace the heart's tumultuous strife,
Since at her feet the sacred waters flow,

And waving o'er her blooms the tree of life.
If this sad parting fills OUR hearts with pain,
TO HER 't is peace, and triumph, and immortal gain.

(XXXV.) LIVING NEAR TO CHRist.

["For our conversation is in heaven; from whence also we look for the Saviour, the Lord Jesus Christ." Philip. iii. 20.]

WHEN the bright sun is nearest to the earth,
In vernal months and days of summer bloom,
The buds and flowers and bending fruits have birth,
Instinct with life and beauty and perfume.

And so the man, who near the Saviour lives,

Finds his heart kindling 'neath that radiant face;

The cheering light and heat the Saviour gives,
And renovates and blesses with his grace.
But if the Christian keeps himself away,

And follows Christ, as Peter did, far off,*

But seldom meditates, nor loves to pray,

Or meets, on doubtful ground, with those who scoff, His heart grows cold, no genial ray shall bless, 'T will be Siberian waste, mere ice and barrenness.

* At the time of his denying the Saviour. See Matt. xxvi. 58.

(XXXVI.) MEDITATING ON CHRIST.

["My heart was hot within me; while I was musing, the fire burned: then spake I with my tongue." Ps. xxxix, 3.]

THY heart is sad; and deeply thou complainest
That dull and wandering thy affections prove,
That lingering far, so often thou remainest
Apart from Him, who claims thy highest love.
Oh, meditate Him more, and the world less,
At morn and pensive eve give Him thy thought,
Recall, how He hath saved thee, and doth bless
With that redemption, which his life-blood bought.
Yes! Deeply think, till thou hast deeply felt;
When thought is busy, love is busy too;
Oh, think, until thy stony heart doth melt,
Of all thy Saviour did, and yet will do;
How he hath condescended, suffered, died,

And even now doth clasp thee to his bleeding side.

(XXXVII.) THE glimpse of heaven.

["But now they desire a better country, that is, a heavenly; wherefore God is not ashamed to be called their God: for he hath prepared for them a city." Heb. xi. 16.]

WHEN On some voyage of trade in distant seas,
The gallant ship has ploughed for many years,
At last, with sails rejoicing in the breeze,
Her own, her lovely native coast she nears;
The hardy sailors look from deck and mast,
Their fathers' hills and hamlets to descry;
As one by one they point them out, full fast
Unwonted tears of gladness fill the eye;
They shout with joy; 't is their own native land;
Where brothers, sisters, fathers, grandsires dwell.
So, when the Christian on life's bounds doth stand,
On heaven's bright hills his eyes with fervor dwell,
His blessed Father's home is in his sight,

He shouts aloud with joy, unspeakable delight.

(XXXVIII.) THE LAST TRUMP.

["In a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trump: for the trumpet shall sound, and the dead shall be raised." 1 Cor. xv. 52.]

WHEN the last trump shall sound, all earth shall hear,
The sea's wide tumbling waves be fixed with dread,
The startled mountains turn their iron ear,

The hills shall flee away, and hide their head.
Leviathan shall plunge into his cave,

His deepest cave; the lion to his den;

In the black clouds the birds their wings shall wave,
And screaming loud, respond the cries of men ;
And men, poured forth from cot and splendid hall,
Shall mingle with the cattle in the fields,

While, tost and breaking at the trumpet's call,
The rending ground beneath their footstep yields.
When all is changing, all in horror mixed,

The Christian's soul remains believing, calm, and fixed.