And lo! its light became

A lamp of life, a beacon ray,

A monitory flame.

The thought was small- its issue great;

A watch-fire on the hill,

It shed its radiance far adown,
And cheers the valley still!

A nameless man, amid a crowd
That thronged the daily mart,
Let fall the word of hope and love,
Unstudied from the heart;
A whisper on the tumult thrown
A transitory breath-

It raised a brother from the dust,
It saved a soul from death.

germ! O fount! O word of Love!
Q thought at random cast!

We were but little at the first,
Yet mighty at the last !

ONLY ONE LIFE:

"Tis not for man to trifle! life is brief

And sin is here.

Our age is but the falling of a leaf,
A dropping tear.

We have no time to sport away the hours;
All must be earnest in a world like ours.

Not many lives, but only one have we,— One, only one ;—

How sacred should that one life ever be,That narrow span !

Day after day filled up with blessed toil, Hour after hour still bringing in new spoil.

HYMN FOR AN INFANT CLASS.

A giddy lamb one afternoon

Had from the fold departed;
The tender shepherd missed it soon,
And sought it broken-hearted.
Not all the flocks that shared his love
Could from the search delay him,
Nor clouds of midnight darkness move,
Nor fear of suffering stay him.

But night and day he went his way
In sorrow, till he found it;

And when he saw it fainting lie,
He clasped his arms around it.
Then, safely folded to his breast,
From every ill to save it,

He brought it to his home of rest,
And pitied and forgave it.

And thus the Saviour will receive
The little ones who fear him;
Their pains remove, their sins forgive,
And draw them gently near him.
Bless while they live, and when they die,
When flesh and spirit sever
Conduct them to his throne on high,
To dwell with him forever.

OUR REST.

"The sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed in us."-Rom. viii: 18.

My feet are worn and weary with the march

O'er the rough road, and up the steep hill-side; Oh! city of our God, I fain would see

Thy pastures green, where peaceful waters glide.

My hands are weary too, with toiling on,
Day after day for perishable meat;
Oh! city of our God, I fain would rest
I sigh to gain thy glorious mercy-seat.

My garments, travel-worn and stained with dust,
Oft rent by briars and thorns that crowd my way,
Would fain be made, O Lord, my righteousness,
Spotless and white in Heaven's unclouded ray.

My eyes are weary looking at the sin,
Impiety and scorn upon the earth;
Oh! city of our God, within thy walls

All — all are clothed again with thy new birth.

My heart is weary of its own deep sin

Sinning, repenting, sinning still again; When shall my soul thy glorious presence feel, And find, dear Saviour, it is free from stain?

Patience, poor soul, the Saviour's feet were worn; The Saviour's heart and hands were weary, too; His garments stained, and travel-worn, and old; His vision blinded with a pitying dew.

Love thou the path of sorrow that he trod;
Toil on, and wait in patience for thy rest;
Oh! city of our God, we soon shall see

Thy glorious walls-home of the loved and blest.

WATCH, WATCH, MOTHER.

Mother! watch the little feet

Climbing o'er the garden wall, Bounding through the busy street,

Ranging cellar, shed and hall; Never count the moments lost, Never mind the time it cost

Little feet will go astray,

Guide them, mother, while you may.

Mother! watch the little hand

Picking berrics by the way, Making houses in the sand,

Tossing on the fragrant hay.

Never dare the question ask,

66

Why to me this weary task?"

These same little hands may prove
Messengers of light and love.

Mother! watch the little tongue
Prattling eloquent and wild,
What is said, and what is sung,
By the happy, joyous child.
Catch the word while yet unspoken,
Stop the vow before 'tis broken;
This same tongue may yet proclaim
Blessings in a Saviour's name.