"Oh help us, mid these beams divine,
"To think of Thee from whom they shine,
"By whom all love is given;

"To know them but reflections bright,

"Of glory true and infinite,

"Which floods the fields of heaven."

And thus in happiness or care,
Still Lord to Thee ascends our prayer,
For strength we cry from far;
And learn, as Jesus taught of old,
In toils and troubles manifold,
To trust Thy guiding star.

So lead us, Thou to whom we pray,
That ever nearer day by day

Unto the Christ we come;

And where we see the star abide,

There surely trusting in our guide,
May find our rest and home.

Thy face Lord will I seek.

HEARD the voice of Jesus say,

"Come unto me and rest;

"Lay down, poor weary one, lay down

F. L.

I heard the voice of Jesus say, "Behold I freely give

"The living water, thirsty one,

"Stoop down, and drink, and live;" I came to Jesus, and I drank

Of that life-giving stream;

My thirst was quenched, my soul revived,
And now I live in Him.

I heard the voice of Jesus say,
"I am this dark world's Light;
"Look unto me, thy morn shall rise,
"And all thy day be bright;"

I looked to Jesus and I found
In Him my radiant Sun;

So in the Light of light I live,
And glory is begun!

Bonar.

Joseph a type of Christ.

OLD by them that should have loved thee,
Prisoner in the heathen's land,

Given by him that best had proved thee

To the dungeon and the band :-
From the land of flowers, and rain,
Borne to Egypt's dewless plain,
Leaving tent, and pastoral dell,
And the sire that loved thee well,

And the airs on upland breezy,
Where the scented cedars grow,
For the servant's toil uneasy

And the captive's weary woe;

Out of grief to honour risen,
Winning rapture for thy pain,
And a palace for thy prison,
And a sceptre for thy chain ;-
Ruling with a gentle art
Over many a grateful heart,
Melting with a brother's love

Those thine anguish could not moveWearing graciously thy glory

Through the land thy wisdom won— How should Christians read thy story, Aged Israel's favoured son?

As the little sapling tender

Shows the great oak waving proud; As the cold lake burns with splendour From the crimson sunset-cloud; So in sufferings of thine

Trace we out a grief divine,

And thy sorrows throb and glow

With a pulse of heavenly woe!
Type thou art of One more holy
Who His glory laid aside,
Took the form of servant lowly,

Stooped to suffering man, and died.

He was scorned, and sold, and hated
By the men He came to save,
With a cruel wrath unsated

Followed to His three days' grave,—
Not one pitying thought for Him,
When His failing eye waxed dim,
Not one note in sympathy

With that love so full and free,
When His tender spirit yearning
Wept those tears of God-like grief
O'er the lawless city, spurning
Help, and safety, and relief.

Now He reigneth high exalted
Where the white-robed elders stand,
By the great throne rainbow-vaulted
Each with golden harp in hand,
Thousand thousand hearts adoring,
Thousand thousand vials pouring
Odours sweet of saintly prayers,
That embalm those heavenly airs,
Round the Lamb once slain and wounded
Breathing, till that awful hour,

When by heaven's high hosts surrounded
He shall come again in power.

For behind each image saintly
Burns the light of Jesus' name-

As the lines lie dim and faintly
In the gothic window frame,

Till the sunlight touch the pane,
Rising o'er the fretted fane,
And each form and gorgeous hue
Starts to sight, distinct and true.
So doth many a sin-stained creature
Catch a glory from Christ's face,
And a light is on his feature,

That our eyes should love to trace.

C. F. A.

Glory to God in the highest.

LORIOUS

LORIOUS was that primeval light

Which poured its golden flood

O'er the young earth when fresh and bright In its first bloom it stood.

But, lo! another light, that shines
O'er Bethlehem's midnight sky,
On man with richer promise beams,
And lovelier scenes draw nigh.

Glad tidings of Immanuel's birth
The angelic heralds bring:
"Glory to God, and peace on earth,

"Good will towards men," they sing.

Rise, then, my soul, and greet the morn,

Thus sung by hosts of heaven;

For unto us a Child is born,

To us a Son is given.

C. E.