A SUPPLICATION. WAY for all that live! heal us by pain and lofs; Fill all our years with toil, and bless us with thy rod. Thy bonds bring wider freedom; climbing, by the cross, Wins that brave height where looms the city of our God! Hallow our wit with prayer: our mastery steep in meek nefs; Pour on our study inspiration's holy light; Hew out, for Chrift's dear Church, a Future without weakness, Quarried from thine Eternal Beauty, Order, Might! Met, there, mankind's great Brotherhood of Souls and Powers, Raise thou full praises from its fartheft corners dim ; Pour down, O steadfast Sun, thy beams on all its tow ers; Roll through its world-wide spaces Faith's majestic hymn. Come, age of God's own Truth, after man's age of fables! Seed sown in Eden, yield the nations' healing tree! Ebal and Sinai, Mamre's tents, the Hebrew tables, Fold of the tender Shepherd! rise, and spread ! Rev. F. D. Huntington. L IFE'S mystery deep, reftlefs as the Ocean- Life's sorrows, with inexorable power, Sweep desolation o'er this mortal plain; Borne by the whirlwind from the ripened grain : Between the mysteries of death and life Thou ftandeft, loving, guiding-not explaining; We afk, and thou art filent-yet we gaze, And our charmed hearts forget their drear complain ing! No crushing fate-no ftony deftiny? Thou Lamb that hast been flain, we reft in thee! The many waves of thought, the mighty tides, Whose echo dafhes on life's wave-worn ftrands, Thy pierced hand guides the inysterious wheels; power; And when the dark enigma preffeth sore Thy patient voice saith, "Watch with me one hour! " As finks the moaning river in the sea In filver peace so finks my soul in Thee! Harriet Beecher Stowe. GOD. "Whom have I in heaven but thee? and there is none upon earth that I defire befide thee." Psalm 73: 25. I LOVE (and have some cause to love) the earth; She is my Maker's creature, therefore good: She is my mother, for fhe gave me birth; She is my tender nurse; fhe gives me food; But what's a creature, Lord, compar'd with thee? I love the air; her dainty sweets refresh But what's the air, or all the sweets, that she I love the sea; fhe is my fellow-creature, But, Lord of oceans, when compar'd with thee, To Heaven's high city I direct my journey, But what is Heav'n, great God, compar'd to thee? Without thy presence, earth gives no refection ; N all extremes, Lord, thou art ftill IN The mount whereto my hopes do flee; O make my soul deteft all ill, Because so much abhorred by thee: Shall mountain, desert, beaft, and tree, |