1 Down toward the twilight drifting,
Hover now the shadows fast:
Lo! the evening clouds are rifting,
And the storm is overpast.

2 One by one the stars are peeping
Gently from the azure deeps;
Loving angels round are keeping
Watch and ward while nature sleeps.

3 Memory to the heart is calling

Happy visions that had fled;
While, like dew around me falling,
Comes the presence of the dead.

4 Hush! the solemn midnight tolleth;
Morn is breaking from on high;
God away the darkness rolleth, -
Light! and immortality!

1 FATHER, hear the prayer we offer:
Not for ease that prayer shall be;
But for strength, that we may ever
Live our lives courageously.

2 Not for ever in green pastures

Do we ask our way to be;
But the steep and rugged pathway

May we tread rejoicingly.

3 Not for ever by still waters

Would we idly quiet stay;
But would smite the living fountains
From the rocks along our way.

4 Be our strength in hours of weakness;
In our wanderings, be our guide;
Through endeavor, failure, danger,
Father, be thou at our side!

708.

The Grave not Feared. THOMAS DAVIS.

1 SHALL I fear, O Earth! thy bosom?
Shrink and faint to lay me there,
Whence the fragrant, lovely blossom
Springs to gladden earth and air?

2 Whence the tree, the brook, the river,
Soft clouds floating in the sky.
All fair things come, whispering ever,
Of the love divine on high?

3 Yea, whence One arose victorious
O'er the darkness of the grave;
His strong arm revealing, glorious
In its might divine to save?

4 No, fair Earth! a tender mother

Thou hast been, and yet canst be; And through him, my Lord and Brother, Sweet shall be my rest in thee.

1 WHEN, driven by oppression's rod,
Our fathers fled beyond the sea,
Their care was first to honor God,
And next to leave their children free.

2 Above the forest's gloomy shade

The altar and the school appeared:
On that, the gifts of faith were laid;
In this, their precious hopes were reared.

3 The altar and the school still stand,

The sacred pillars of our trust;
And freedom's sons shall fill the land
When we are sleeping in the dust.

4 Before thine altar, Lord, we bend,

With grateful song and fervent prayer; For thou, who wast our fathers' friend, Wilt make our offspring still thy care. 710.

In a Cemetery. GEORGE LUNT.

1 How oft, beneath this sacred shade,
Encompassed by the earth's green breast,
Shall many a weary head be laid,
And wandering hearts find peaceful rest!

That faith thy servants knew of old, Which onward bears, thro' weal or woe, Till death the gates of heaven unfold!

4 Nor we alone: may those whose brow Shows yet no trace of human cares, Hereafter stand where we do now, And raise to thee still holier prayers!

BRYANT.

712. "The Earth is Full of Thy Riches."
1 ALMIGHTY, hear us while we raise
Our hymn of thankfulness and praise,
That thou hast given the human race
So bright, so fair a dwelling-place;

2 That, when this orb of sea and land
Was moulded in thy forming hand,
Thy calm, benignant smile impressed
A beam of heaven upon its breast.

3 Then towered the hills, and, broad and green,

The vale's deep pathway sank between ;
Then stretched the plain to where the sky
Stoops and shuts in the exploring eye.