That love, whose praise, with quenchless fire,
Inflames the blest seraphic choir,

Where perfect rapture reigns above,

And all is love for THOU art Love!

SECRET GRIEF.

"The heart knoweth its own bitterness.[Prov. xiv; 10

A strange power hath the human heart,
By heaven in mercy given;

Strength to perform its wonted part,

While silently 'tis riven;

To smile e'en when each tender string

Is broken one by one,

Hope to the fainting breast to bring,

While in our own, lives none.

To sit beside the sufferer's bed,
And dry the falling tear,
To gently hold the sinking head
And chase away each fear;
To gaze upon the trembling form
Till the lone heart seems broken,

And yet amid the fearful storm,
To give of grief no token.

To hear that voice, whose slightest tone
Hath sweetest music been,.

Grow weaker, fainter, till each moan
The listening ear drinks in;
Yet still unmoved, with placid brow

To meet that languid eye,
Nor show the parting spirit now
How gladly we would die.

To shut within the blighted heart
The agony and strife,

And meekly bear our destined part

Amid the scenes of life

Nor cast around our own loved throng
The gloom that reigneth there,
To check the smile, the cheerful sun,
To cloud their world so fair.

But oh the soul' could never bear
This weight of silent grief,
Did not its woes one bosom share,
One, kindly bring relief;
One, who to sympathise, to cheery,
The path of sorrow trod,

One to the suffering ever near;

'Tis thine, O Son of God!

'Tis thine to bind the bleeding heart,
To calm the troubled breast,
Strength, hope and heavenly peace impart―

To give the weary rest;

To point beyond this world of pain,
To that bright home above,
Where those who part may meet again,
Joined in unfading love.

THE PRISM.

A leisure moment idly to beguile,
I took a prism; and, with a careless eye,
Sought for the beauteous colors that do lie
Tombed in that glassy shrine; but for awhile
I sought in vain, till, with a conscious smile,
I turned me to the light; then a sunbeam
Glanced swiftly through, dissolving in a stream
Of softened splendor, like an angel's smile.
Spirit of Light and Life! thy Sacred Book
Stands open to my gaze; but oft in vain,
With dull incurious eye, thereon I look,

And all is dark: I turn to Thee again ;

Pour forth thy glorious beams, then shall I learn

to trace

My Father's sovereign love, my Saviour's matchless grace.

THE SHIP AT SEA.

A white sail gleaming on the flood,
And the bright orbed sun on high,
Are all that break the solitude

Of the circling sea and sky;
Nor cloud nor cape is imaged there
Nor isle of ocean, nor of air.

Led by the magnet o'er the tides,
That bark her path explores,
Sure as unerring instinct guides
The bird to unseen shores:

With wings that o'er the waves expand,

She wanders to a viewless land.

Yet not alone; on ocean's breast,
Though no green islet glows,
No sweet, refreshing spot of rest,

Where fancy may repose;

Nor rock, nor hill, nor tower, nor tree,
Breaks the blank solitude of the sea;

O not alone!

her beauteous shade

Attends her noiseless way;
As some sweet memory undecayed,
Clings to the heart for aye,
And haunts it, wheresoe'er we go,
Through every scene of joy and woe.

And not alone, for day and night
Escort her o'er the deep;
And round her solitary flight

The stars their vigils keep.

Above, below, are circling skies,
And heaven around her pathway lies.

And not alone, for hopes and fears

Go with her wandering sail;

And bright eyes watch through gathering tears,

Its distant cloud to hail

And prayers for her at midnight lone

Ascend, unheard by all, save One.

And not alone, for round her, glow
The vital light and air ;

And something that in whispers low