THE FIRST-FRUITS.

And oh, how sweet and pleasant
Is sunshine after rain;

All is more fresh and fragrant
When he beams forth again.

91

D. A. T.

THE FIRST-FRUITS.

FAIR waved the golden corn
In Canaan's pleasant land,
When, full of joy, at early morn
Went forth the reaper-band.

To God, so good and great,
Their cheerful thanks they pour;

They carry to His temple-gate

The choicest of their store.

For thus the holy word,

Spoken by Moses, ran:

"The first ripe fruits are for the Lord; The rest He gives to man."

Like Israel, Lord, we give
Our earliest fruits to Thee;

And pray,
We may Thy children be.

that long as we shall live,

This is our youthful prime
Of life and all its powers;
Be with us in our morning-time,
And bless our evening hours.

In wisdom let us grow,

As years and strength are given, That we may serve Thy church below, And join Thy saints in heaven.

MY POETRY BOOK.

THE LARK.

How sweet is the song of the lark, as she springs

To welcome the morning, with joy on her

wings;

The higher she rises, the sweeter she sings,

And she sings while we hear her no more; When storms and dark clouds veil the sun from our sight,

She has mounted above them, she sings in the light,

There, far from the scenes that disturb and affright,

She loves her sweet music to pour.

JESUS NEAR.

93

It is thus with the Christian;-he sees from afar The Day-spring appearing, the bright Morning-star;

He quits this dark valley of sorrow and care For the land whence the Day-spring is

given;

He sings on his way from this cloud-cover'd spot;

The swifter his progress, the sweeter his note; When we hear it no longer, the song ceases

not,

It blends with the chorus of heaven.

JESUS NEAR.

DEAR Jesus, ever at my side!
How loving must Thou be,
To leave Thy home in heaven to guard
A little child like me!

Thy beautiful and shining face,
I see not, though so near;

The sweetness of Thy soft, low voice
I am too deaf to hear.

I cannot feel Thee touch my hand
With pressure light and mild,
To check me, as my mother did,
When I was but a child.

Yet I have felt Thee in my thoughts,
Fighting with sin for me;

And when my heart loves God, I know
That love is all from Thee.

And when, dear Saviour, I kneel down,
Morning and night, in prayer,
Something there is within my heart
Which tells me Thou art there;-

Yes, when I pray, Thou prayest too-
Thy prayer is all for me;

And when I sleep, Thou sleepest not,
But watchest patiently.

To God the Father glory be,
And to His only Son;

The same, O Holy Ghost, to Thee,

While ceaseless

ages run.

FABER.

PART II.