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MARCH.

When the rolling night and day
Govern with an equal sway
Every clime beneath the sun,
Winter's cheerless race is run ;
And the Spring shall reign once more
O'er the sea, and sky, and shore.

Come, sweet Spring, and charm our eyes
With thy clear and smiling skies;
Come and breathe thy gentle gale
On the upland and the vale ;
On the valley and the hill
Let thy genial showers distil,
And thy béauteous flowers be seen
In the meads of cheerful green ;
Deck again the lonely groves;
There the musing spirit loves
'Neath the leafy arch to lie,
List'ning to thy minstrelsy.

Is it, reader, Spring with thee-
Life's young Spring of gaiety ?
With a lightsome step dost bound,
As upon enchanted ground ?
To a cloudless azure sky
Dost thou raise the joyous eye?
Think how soon thy vernal day,
Full of beauty, must decay.
Calm or stormy, dull or bright,
Ev'ry day dissolves in nigbt.

When life's vernal pleasures lie
In the shade of memory,
And review but serves to show
Sorrow in our path below-
When the wrinkled brow declares
We have borne our weigbt of cares,
And the world no more can charm,
Hope no more the bosom warm,
Drear and darksome is our way,
If religion's peaceful ray,
With a cheering, steady light,
Shine not on that wintry night.

W.D. MERCY.

How sweet is the message which Mercy proclaims !

How cheering her accents—how lovely ber form, When, pointing to Christ as our refuge, she aims

To secure wretched man from the threatening storm.

He, deep in arrears—having nothing to pay

And even unwilling God's grace to receive Sweet Mercy consented to point out the way

By which he might gain a full pardon, and live.

Oh! wondrous persuasive !-she points to that cross,

Where the blessed Redeemer both suffered and died; She shews how all else is but worthless as dross,

And proves there's salvation in nothing beside.

Attracted by such irresistible charms,

The sinner no longer this message withstands; For, taught by the Spirit, he throws down his arms,

Made willing, by grace, to obey God's commands,

His pray’rs and good works can no longer afford

Any hope of procuring the favour of Heaven; Nothing now, but the merits of Jesus, his Lord,

Will suit the poor sioner, whose crimes are forgiven. He feels a serenity glowing within

A peace which this world is too poor to impart; He is sav'd from the pow'r and dominion of sin,

Though it oft strives again to bear sway in his heart.

Mid this conflict, which causes him often to groan,

He exults in the thought that, ere long, he shall spend, With the ransom'd, in glory, around the blest throne,

A Sabbath which never-no! never shall end !

EMMELINE.

THE HEART.

My son, give me thy heart.”—Prov. xxiii. 28.

“ Give me thy heart,” the Saviour cries.
“ My beart is thine," the saint replies:
" There fix thy throne, maintain thy cause,
“ And deeply write thy holy laws.”

Η. Η. Η. LINES FOR A YOUNG LADY’S ALBUM.

What shall I write young lady ? let me not
Stain this fair page, and make the blank a blot.
I would inscribe a friendly word or two,
In humble hope to please and profit you.
O let me then conjure thee to beware,
The tempter's wiles : avoid each treach'rous spare;
Shun flattry's pois’ nous, pestilential breath,
Impregnated with infamy and death:
Nor let one single, darling secret sin,
Find welcome barbour thy fond breast within.
For, be thine outward conduct spotless white,
As the pure surface on which now I write;
Be sure the eye Omniscient glances through,
The tbickest veil that meets its piercing view;
Be sure the arm Omnipotent is strong,
And will avenge, though it may suffer long.

that Spirit who alone can teach
To profit, though a Paul should write or preach;
So write the truth upon thy youthful mind,
That thou by forvent pray’r may'st seek and find,
Him who descended from his throne above,
To save the objects of his father's love ;
Find Him, thine own, thine all-sufficient Friend,
To guard, and guide, and keep thee to the end ;
Find Him thy Saviour, and in Him be found,
Wash'd in His blood, and with His glory crown'd.

J. S, HARVEY.

O may

THE DOOR OF HOPE.

John X. 9.
No bribe, no“ price,” is here requir'd

From penitents who come;
Believe,'' is all the test desir'd,

To lead the wanderer home.
None who have once bis mercy sought,

Have ever sought in vain;
Nor any wbo their cares have brought,

Have reason to complain.
Then why, poor sinners, thus delay,

To take the promis'd rest :
Why spurn bis invitation? say!

Go! be for ever blest !

R. J. C. FAREWELL TO R

Sweet season of refreshment and repose
Short, pleasant, peaceful-season quickly past ;
With joy I welcomed thee-and now the close
When I must say farewell, is come at last.
Farewell to R....-farewell to happy hours,
Gliding so softly, unperceived, away :
Farewell co myrtle blossoms, shrubs and flowers,
Whence humble love still culled the fair bouquet.
Yet not to Love farewell— heart linked with heart,
Though distance separate-in union beat,
And in communion mingle, though apart,
Thought, feeling, and affection, converse sweet.
Nor yet farewell to views of sacred lore,
Guined in the social circle,--words of truth
That give to memory her richest store :-
Bright crown of age, and ornament of youth.
Farewell then R ....-to friends beloved, farewell
ALMIGHTY LOVE, to every heart be nigh,
Until all wanderings o'er, we meet to dwell
Where no farewell shall sadden beart or eye.

JOTA.

A HYMN.

COME happy souls and take your flight,
Far, far beyond the realms of light,
Into the regions of the blest,
For this, indeed, is not your rest.
Far, far beyond the lower sky,
Sits the Redeemer thron’d on high;
In brightest purity he's drest,
And he will give you lasting rest.
Here darkness, sin, and death surround,
Travellers on this enchanted ground;
Then let us flee this wretched place,
From mis’ry, horror, and disgrace.
Take the blest Bible in your hand,
And flee from the most sinful land;
Flee to the regions of the blest,
And enter on your joyous rest.
Then come ye sinners, haste away,
And tarry not another day;
Come, and you'll be a welcome guest,
For this, indeed, is not your rest.

E. L.

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