A song of grateful praise is due And thy unchanging love to me! Though foes with deadly weapons strove From Thee, the Rock of heavenly rest. And inward lusts, like tempests, roar'd, Yet thy Almighty hand has wrough To praise thee, O my God, and King! THE SOUL HAS A LANGUAGE. BY MRS. MOODIE. THE Soul has a language the lips cannot learn; Emotions and feelings no words can im part: The spirit within us may tremble and burn, But who shall unfold the deep thoughts of the heart? The waves of that torrent still restlessly roll, Though all from without may be silent and dead; No waters oblivious give peace to the soul; From eternity's ocean its fountains are fed. It has visions of glory the eye cannot reach, The pencil embody—the poet define; Perceptions of beauty that art cannot teach, [divine, Aspirations for Heaven that prove it An angel degraded, and fall'n from its sphere, In silence it droops in its prison of clay; The immortal can meet with no sympathy here, Till death rends the veil from the tem ple away. It is well for the pilgrim-though man's clouded gaze Discerns not the thoughts in his bosom enshrin'd; [raise, That the Father of spirits the curtain can And read at a glance all the thoughts his mind. THE BANQUET IN THE WILDERNESS. BY G. R. CARTER. THEY left the sunny citron-trees, But faint with wand'ring on the road, But Thou, whose voice controll'd the wave, And bade the tempest cease, With food supplied the multitude, And led them forth in peace : Thy presence chang'd the desert scene, Thus, when the clouds of care and gloom When dimly gleams the spectral tomb, With light deriv'd from realms afar, WOMAN, UNDER THE GOSPEL DISPENSATION. THERE is no country in the world where the influence of woman is not felt! Even in those lands where the natives sit in "darkness, and the shadow of death"where she is degraded and despised-she tempers the austerity of her partner by her cheerfulness; and her society, however undervalued, comprises still the charm of that which civilized nations call "Home." |