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THE SUFFERER CHEERED.

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Say, shall I take the thorn away?'
So spake my gracious Lord-

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"O'er which thy sighs are heaved by day,
Thy nightly tears are poured?
Say, shall I give thee rest and ease,
Make earth's fair prospects rise,
And bid thy bark o'er summer seas
Float smoothly to the skies?

"Shall peace and plenty's cup swell high, Health leap through every vein,

And, all exempt thy moments fly
From bitter inward pain?

Be naught to check the inspiring flow
Of human friendship's tide;

And every want thy heart can know,
Be quickly satisfied?

"Know thine ease-loving heart might miss

The comfort with the care!
And that full tide of earthly bliss

Leave little room for prayer!
Few were thy visits to the throne,
Unhastened there by pain;
Thou, o'er thy bosom-sins alone,
Would'st small advantage gain !

"Nor deem the highest, holiest joy,

A stranger still to woe;
Blest servants in my high employ,
Most closely linked they go.
My love illumes with tenderest rays
The path of self denial,

And burning bright the glory's blaze
That crowns the fiery trial!

“In conscious weakness thou shalt hang On my almighty arm!

Soon as the thorn inflicts its pang

I'll pour my love's rich balm, Thou, plainest in thy deepest woe, Shalt feel me at thy side;

And, for my praise, to all shalt show, Thou art well satisfied."

LESSON OF THE SEA.

Go down unto the sea,

Where white-winged navies ride, Whose mighty pulses heave so free In strong mysterious tide-Within whose coral cells,

Where sunless forests creep,
So many a wandering child of earth
Hath laid him down to sleep.

Go forth unto the sea,

And at the break of morn,

Teach its young waves the words of prayer,

Before the day is born;

And when the night grows dim,

Beguile the billows wild,

With the holy hush of thine evening hymn,

As the mother lulls her child.

Go - bow thee to the sea,

When the booming breakers roar,

And a meek-hearted listener be

To all their fearful lore;

And learn, where tempests lower;

Their lesson from the wave

"One voice alone can curb our power,.

One arm alone can save."

Go, homeward from the sea,

When its trial hour is past,

With deeper trust in Him who rules.

The billow and the blast; And when the charms of earth

Around thy bosom creep, Forget not, in thy time of mirth,

The wisdom of the deep.

HYMN OF THE CITY.

W. C. BRYANT.

Not in the solitude

Alone, may man commune with Heaven, or see
Only in savage wood

And sunny vale the present Deity;
Or only hear his voice,

Where the winds whisper, and the waves rejoice.

Even here do I behold

Thy steps, Almighty! here, amidst the crowd
Through the great city rolled,

With everlasting murmur deep and loud-
Choking the ways that wind

"Mongst the proud piles, the work of human kind.

Thy golden sunshine comes

From the round heaven, and on their dwellings lies, And lights their inner homes;

For them thou fill'st with air the unbounded skies, And givest them the stores

Of ocean, and the harvest of its shores.

Thy spirit is around,

Quickening the restless mass that sweeps along;
And this eternal sound

Voices and footfalls of the numberless throng·
Like the resounding sea,

Or like the rainy tempest, speaks of thee.

And when the hours of rest
Come, like a calm upon the mid-sea brine,
Hushing its billowy breast,

The quiet of the moment, too, is Thine;
It breathes of Him who keeps

The vast and helpless city while it sleeps.

THE CHRISTIAN IN THE CITY,

Love's a flower that will not die

For lack of leafy screen;

And Christian hope can cheer the eye
That ne'er saw vernal green.
Then be ye sure his love can bless

Even in this crowded loneliness;

Where ever moving myriads seem to say Go-thou art naught to us, nor we to thee-away,

There are in this loud stunning tide

Of human care and crime, With whom the melodies abide

Of the everlasting chime;
Who carry music in their heart,

Through dusky lane and wrangling mart,
Plying their daily task with busier feet,

Because their secret souls a holy strain repeat.

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