THE STRANGER AND HIS FRIEND. A POOR wayfaring man of grief That I could never answer, "Nay." Once, when my scanty meal was spread, He entered;-not a word He spake ;— I gave Him all; He blessed it, brake, I spied Him, where a fountain burst Clear from the rock; his strength was gone: The heedless water mocked his thirst: He heard it, saw it hurrying on: I ran to raise the sufferer up; Thrice from the stream He drained my cup, 'Twas night; the floods were out,—it blew A winter hurricane aloof; I heard his voice abroad, and flew To bid Him welcome to my roof; I warmed, I clothed, I cheered my guest; Stripped, wounded, beaten nigh to death, Wine, oil, refreshment; He was healed; To meet a traitor's doom at morn; And honored Him midst shame and scorn: My friendship's utmost zeal to try, He asked if I for Him would die ; The flesh was weak, my blood run chill, But the free spirit cried, "I will.” Then in a moment to my view, The stranger darted from disguise, The tokens in his hands I knew, My Saviour stood before mine eyes: ON THE LOSS OF FRIENDS. FRIEND after friend departs; Who hath not lost a friend? There is no union here of hearts, That finds not here an end! Were this frail world our final rest, Living, or dying, none were blest. Beyond the flight of time, Beyond the reign of death, There surely is some blessed clime, Nor life's affections transient fire, There is a world above, Where parting is unknown, A long eternity of love, Formed for the good alone; Thus star by star declines, Till all are passed away; As morning high and higher shines Nor sink those stars in empty night, But hide themselves in heaven's own light. "He shall sit as a refiner and purifier of silver."-Mal. iii. 3. He that from dross would win the precious ore, Lest the one brilliant moment should pass by, Thus in God's furnace are his people tried; Thrice happy they who to the end endure: But who the fiery trial may abide ? Who from the crucible come forth so pure, That He whose eyes of flame look through the whole, May see his image perfect in the soul? Nor with an evanescent glimpse alone, As in that mirror the refiner's face; But, stamped with heaven's broad signet, there be shown Immanuel's features full of truth and grace: And round that seal of love this motto be, "Not for a moment, but-eternity!" LIFE, DEATH, AND JUDGMENT. FEW, few, and evil are thy days, Man of a woman born! Peril and trouble haunt thy ways. Youth blossoms to the breeze, And dost thou look on such an one? A worm, for what a worm hath done As fail the waters from the deep, Man lieth down, no more to wake, Oh! hide me till thy wrath be past, WHAT IS PRAYER? PRAYER is the soul's sincere desire, The motion of a hidden fire, That trembles in the breast. Prayer is the burden of a sigh, The upward glancing of an eye, Prayer is the simplest form of speech Prayer is the Christian's vital breath, Prayer is the contrite sinner's voice, The saints in prayer appear as one, Nor prayer is made on earth alone: And Jesus on the eternal throne O Thou! by whom we come to God, THE DAY AFTER JUDGMENT. THE days and years of time are fled, Sun, moon, and stars have shone their last; The earth and sea gave up their dead, Then vanished at th' archangel's blast. All secret things have been revealed, |