Tells to man's spirit there,

Upon her waste and weary road,
A present, all-peryading GOD!

"I NEVER LOOKED BEHIND."

On Filey Bridge I sat alone,

Upon a summer's day,

Till on that long, dark ridge of stone

The light of evening lay :

And there was silence all arouud,

But for the sea-bird's cry,

And waves that told with warning sound,

The flowing tide was nigh.

They struck, and struck, with solemn shock,

Each louder than the last,

As on the lonely bridge of rock,

The sea was rising fast.

Onward with life's advancing years,

Returning birth-days come,
Telling to man's unwilling ears

That this is not his home.

"Arise ye and depart,” it cries

That voice recurring still;

Joyful to those by Heaven made wise, Bright hopes their bosoms fill.

The waves were breaking all in foam,
In the dark northern bay ;

The south, between me and my home,
Smooth as a mirror lay.

And sunset hues were gleaming bright,
Over the rising sea ;

So days of age, in heavenly light,
May sweet and placid be.

A little lass, in wild attire,
In russet cloak and hood,
Came onward, softly creeping nigher,
Till by my side she stood

And then she said, It's time to go,
The tide will soon be here."
Homeward we traced our pathway slow,
The sea still flowing near.

She had a basket en her arm

To gather bait she went; -
A little child she feared no harm,
There, by her father sent.

Yet, "Once," she said, "too long I staid,

And high the waters grew."

66 What then?"

"! I was not afraid,

I thought my father knew.
I thought my father saw me there,
Would send a boat from shore ;-
But it grew dark-I did not dare
To stay there any more...

I sought the cliff where oft I knew
Rabbits run up on high,

And the sheep climbed, and heifers too
And so, I thought, might I."
"Were you not frightened then, to pass,
So steep a way to find?"

"Oh, no," replied the little lass,

"I never looked behind."

And such, I thought, should Christians be

In danger not afraid,
Trusting their Father's eye to see,

Their Father's hand to aid.

And when he bids them climb the hill,.

And leads them to their home,
Then let them say, obedient still,
"Father, to Thee I come;"
Nor “look behind "on evil past,...
But upward, onward, gaze;
And not a glance be downward casts
O'er earth's dark, dreary ways.

There is a Rock that safety gives
To all that seek its side

The Lord of Life, to all that lives,

Saviour, and Friend, and Guide. O seek him then, when storms arise, And pathless wilds affright, While evening darkens in the skies,He is the way, the light.

THE DEATH OF A CHILD.

Ah! not for thee was woven

That wreath of joy and woe, That crown of thorns and flowers Which all must wear below.

We bend in sadness o'er thee,

Yet feel that thou art blest, Loved one! so early summoned To enter into rest.

E'en now thy bright young spiris
From earthly life is free;
Now hast thou met thy Saviour,

Who smiled on such as thee.

W'en now thou art rejoicing,,

Unsullied as thou art,

In the blest vision promised

Unto the pure in heart.

Thou Father of our spirits,
We can but look to thee;
Though chastened, not forsaken
Shall we thy children be.
We take the cup of sorrow
As did thy blessed Son;
Teach us to say with Jesus,

"Thy will, not ours, be done."

ON THE DEATH OF MR. G. K. POMROY

G. W. BLAGDEN.

Softly sleep in death's cold slumber,
Thou whose form we oft have seen,
Quickly passed, and few in number,
Have thy days of suffering been.
Rest thee, sweetly,

Rest from sorrow, toil and sin.

Though we linger o'er thee weeping,
Though that form no more we see —
He who wept o'er Lazarus sleeping,