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THE HEAVENLY CANAAN.
Is that fair Canaan's coast?
Are those her mountains high ?” Cry Israel's eager host,
As in the camp they lie. Let's send a little band
Of brave and faithful men, To search the pleasant land,
And bring us word again." The chosen band departs;
What scenes before them rise, To charm their anxious hearts,
And their astonished eyes !
They climb the mountain's side,
Whence cooling waters flow : They cross the valleys wide,
Where golden harvests grow; Pass through the woods, where bees
Sip honey from each flower, And in the hollow trees
Hide their delicious store; View gardens where the vine
And olive-trees are seen, The sheep and lowing kine
Amidst the pastures green.
But while the beauteous land
They view with great delight, They see where cities stand
With walls of wondrous height,
And towers tall and strong,
And gates of iron and brass ; And ’midst the countless throng
Some who the rest surpass ; Men of enormous size,
Who wield the sword and spear And in whose sight the spies
Like grasshoppers appear.
But why should such a sight
Fill Israel with dismay ? Their God for them shall fight,
And they shall win the day :For idols are adored
By Canaan's wicked race, And cups
of blood are poured Before each idol's face, And helpless babies bleed
Amongst the thickest trees, And every wicked deed
Is done those Gods to please.
There is a land more fair
Than any land below, And I would enter there,
In spite of every foe. Then let me now begin
To strive with all my might To overcome all sin,
However hard the fight. The Lord will give me strength,
And fill my soul with grace, And I shall reach at length
His heavenly dwelling-place.
Not worlds on worlds in phalanx deep
For who but He who arch'd the skies,
Mould its green cup, its wiry stem ;
And fling it, unrestrain'd and free,
THE MISSIONARY'S FAREWELL TO
QUEEN of the Isles ! where Hope entwin'd
Lord permits my stay,
And bid thy shores adieu !
No more my
Sweet impress of the hand divine !
Man seeks in vain below;
And light on all bestow.
But, ah ! thy glorious deeds of yore
Or wake the poet's fire ;
of the Prince of Grace, His love to man's apostate race, His saints' immortal dwelling-place,
A nobler song inspire.
Yet prostrate at the mercy-seat,
Cherish'd with filial love ;
Thy messenger to be ;
My home, my heaven in Thee.
CHARITY. "The very bond of perfectness." WHERE no charity abounds
All the Christian path adorning, Vain our speech, as hollow sounds,
Or the tinkling cymbal's warning,
'Tis the seamless warp and woof
Of the Christian's purest vesture; 'Tis the earnest, and the proof
Of his holy life and gesture.
'Tis the Spirit's richest fruit;
'Tis of holiness the measure ; Of all virtues 'tis the root;
Of all gifts the chiefest treasure.
W. L. N.
Go, when the morning shineth,
Go, when the noon is bright, Go, when the eve declineth,
Go, in the hush of night;
Go, with pure mind and feeling,
Fling earthly thought away, And in thy chamber kneeling,
Do thou in secret pray :
Remember all who love thee,
All who are lov’d by thee;
such there be.
Then for thyself, in meekness,
A blessing humbly claim, And link with each petition
Thy great Redeemer's name.