Then O ye much-lov'd happy saints

Rely on his unchanging love,
And banish all your sad complaints,

And look to yon bright world above,
Where you the Saviour's face shall see,
And with him shall for ever be

Happy to all eternity.
Brixton Hill,

W. H. L,

THE PILGRIM.

“ They shall see his face”.-Rev, xxii. 4.
With wbat extatic joy his bosom glows,

When to his home the wand'rer returns,
From icy Greenland's everlasting shows,

Or where the thirsty Lybian desert burns.

What bliss he feels with faithful friends to meet,

Gazing on features memory held so dear;
A transient glimpse of happiness complete,

Too pure, too pleasing, to be lasting here;

For sorrow's chilling damp will intervene,

For those whose face he ne'er shall more bebold;
Their places vacant in the cheerful scene,

Their memory transient as a tale once told.

But when the pilgrim from bis earthly course,

With rapture seeks a mansion in the skies,
Drinks streams of love at the immortal source,

And tastes the unfading joys of Paradise ;

Then shall be " see His face”-transporting thought!

Worth more than earth or heaven contains beside ;
Shall see his face, shall serve him as be ought;

The God incarnate! Jesus crucified !

Then Death no more shall burst the kindred tie,

All sin and grief shall be for ever o'er;
The tear drop shall be wip'd from ev'ry eye,

And friends in bliss shall meet to part no more.
Woolwich.

Ουδεις. . THE STAR OF HOPE.

WHILE pacing this valley of tears,

A pilgrim and stranger below,
See yonder a ligbt amidst darkness appears,

And points out the patb I should go ;
'Tis the bright star of Hope, which, with luminous ray,
Sheds a lustre divine on the traveller's way.

The mariner, plougbing the main,

Beat back by the winds and the waves,
And longing his country and home to regain,

As the storms of the ocean he braves,
With the bright star of Hope shining full in his view,
Is encouraged his labour and toil to renew.

As the sweet lowly flow'ret that blooms,

To hail the first dawning of Spring,
And, fann’d by the zephyrs, emits its perfumes,

While around the wing'd choristers sing,
To enliven our spirits-so Hope's cheering star
Chases sorrow's dark winter, when seen from afar.

When laid on the bed of disease,

The pris'ner of anguish and pain,
How much do we long for the blessing of ease,

Till wishing seems almost in vain.
This star, so refulgent, oft rises to cheer
The night of affliction, though gloomy and drear.

The heaven-bcund pilgrim, oft cross'd

By the storms of temptation and sin,
Is ready, at seasons, to give up for lost,

And fears there's no mercy for him,
Did not Hope's blessed star, rising bright to his view,
Chase his sorrows away, and his comforts renew.

But the flowers of earth will, all fade,

And Spring basten quickly away;
The light of the morn be succeeded by shade,

And our highest enjoyments decay;
While the pilgrim who follows this star with delight,
Shall arrive at the realms of enjoyment and light.

EMMELINE,

ON SEEING THE .MORTAL REMAINS OF A CHRISTIAN.

EMBLEM of calm repose,
No cares alloy thy breast;
No terror from thy foes,

Can now disturb thy rest ;
For thou art freed from ev'ry ill of life,
Released by death from tumult, care, and strife.

Emblem of all thy race,
Who soon with life must part,
When death his dart shall place,

Deep in the throbbing heart;
To call the spirit from its house of clay,
To dwell with Christ in everlasting day.

Emblem of mortal birth,
The body left behind,
Here in its mother earth,

To be by worms refin'd,
Till the last day when Christ shall bid it rise,

To soar with kindred saints beyond the skies.
Birmingham.

J. A. N. M.

TRANSLATION

Of the Inscription on the Cross of St. Thomas Aquinas, (page 25.)

The Cross which I ever adore,
The Cross of the Lord, is with me;
The Cross doth my safety ensure-
The Cross still my refuge shall be.

THE CHRISTIAN'S IMPROVEMENT OF THE ABOVE.

'Tis not the Cross, but Christ who hung thereon,
That for my soul such miracles hath done;
Why did He suffer there ?—for what expire 3-
To rescue me from wrath's eternal fire.
Yes, for my sins He groan'd, and bled, and died,
For me He rose, and I am justified.
No lightning now, nor thunderbolt I fear;
In ev'ry storm my great Deliv'rer's near ;
He is my refuge-Him will I adore
My Lord, my God, my Saviour evermore, J.S.HARVEY.