My Cimes are in Chy Band.

My times are in Thy hand!

I know not what a day

Or e'en an hour may bring to me,
But I am safe while trusting Thee,
Though all things fade away.
All weakness, I

On Him rely

Who fix'd the carth, and spread the starry sky.

My times are in Thy hand!

Pale poverty, or wealth,

Corroding care, or calm repose,

Spring's balmy breath, or Winter's snows,

Sickness or buoyant health

Whate'er betide,

If God provide,

'Tis for the best-I wish no lot beside.

My times are in Thy hand!

Should friendship pure illume,

And strew my path with fairest flowers,

Or should I spend life's dreary hours,

In solitude's dark gloom,

Thou art a Friend,

"Till Time shall end,

Unchangeably the same-in Thee all beauties blend.

My times are in Thy hand!

Many or few my days,

I leave with Thee-this only pray,
That by Thy grace, I, every day,

Devoting to Thy praise,

164

MY TIMES ARE IN THY HAND.

May ready be,

To welcome Thee,

Whene'er Thou comest to set my spirit free.

My times are in Thy hand!
Howe'er those times may end,

Sudden, or slow, my soul's release,
'Midst anguish, phrenzy, or in peace,
I'm safe with Christ my Friend!
If He is nigh

Howe'er I die,

"Twill be the dawn of Heavenly ecstacy.

My times are in Thy hand!

To Thee I can entrust

My slumb'ring clay 'till Thy command
Bids all the dead before Thee stand,

Awaking from the dust.

Beholding Thee,

What bliss 'twill be

With all Thy saints to spend eternity!

Haste, haste, my Lord, and soon transport me there.

N. H.

FULL soon must all these summer birds be gone—
Take to their wings and leave thee, every one.

Chought.

“THERE are rare and precious moments, snatched from the whirl of life, and spent in stillness and alone. Even when not devoted to direct meditation, and appearing too fleeting to be productive of much good, they yet tend to give us a knowledge of the realities that encompass us. By the depth of their solemnity and repose, they remind us, that, beneath the surface of this weary, working existence, there is another worldanother and an enduring life :-imaged in the unchanging sky, and the returning sun, and the ever renewed beauty of the trees and flowers, and the steadfastness of the everlasting hills and if our hearts are open to the truth, they may sometimes teach us to remember, that, as in far off years, the glorious Temple rose silently in the city of Jerusalem, neither axe, nor hammer, nor tool, giving warning or notice of the work -so the more glorious temple-the Church of the living Godis, at this moment, rising unperceived in the midst of a tumultuous world each stone quarried and fashioned by the sharp edge of sorrow, and the keen stroke of adversity, until, perfected and prepared, it is fitted for that destined position, which shall be the place of its rest for eternity. It does not signify, in the concerns of life, whether we are called upon to rule a kingdom, or pick up stones on the highway, if only what we do is work: work for Him, that shall turn to account in the reckoning of the long day of life: work for Him to whom nothing is great, and therefore nothing can be little."

SPEAK gently!-'tis a little thing

Dropped in the heart's deep well;
The good the joy that it may bring,
Eternity shall tell!

Complaint of the Sea Shell.

-

I COME from the Ocean-a billow passed o'er me,
And, covered with sea-weeds and glittering foam,
I fell on the sands-
and a stranger soon bore me
To deck the gay halls of his far-distant home.
Encompassed by exquisite myrtles and roses,
Still, still, in the deep I am pining to be;
And the low voice within me my feeling discloses,
And evermore murmurs the sounds of the sea!

The sky-lark at noon pours a carol of pleasure,
At eve the sad nightingale warbles her note-
The harp in our halls nightly sounds a glad measure,
And beauty's sweet songs in the air lightly float:
Yet I sigh for the loud-breaking billows that tossed me,
I long to the cool coral caverns to flee,

And when guests with officious intrusion address me,
I answer them still in the strains of the sea.

Since I left the blue deep I am ever regretting,
And mingled with men in the regions above,

-

I have known them the ties they once cherished, forgetting,
Oft trust to new friendships, and cling to new love.
Oh! is it so hard to preserve true devotion?
Let mortals who doubt, seek a lesson of me;

I am bound by mysterious links to the ocean,
And no language is mine but the sounds of the sea.

ABDY.

Stanzas.

WHEN from life's busy scenes awhile,
Sickness detains with grasp severe,
How soon the faded cheek its smile
Yields for the tear!

Yet most we learn when most alone-
And sickness oft the soul hath brought,
Where many a heavenly truth is known,
A lesson taught!

The brook, bright in the noontide rays,
Picturing each object, glides along,
But in unbroken crystal strays,
The shades among!

So, oft a vain reflected show,

beam:

Paints the mind's tide in healt.'s gay That beam withdrawn, its course may flow, In purer stream!

Hope round the darkened couch may bloom, That sprung not 'neath the prosperous sun, As night-bloom flowers that cheer the gloom, The sunbeams shun!

Chambers secured from solar glare,

Admit a radiance holier far: Oft on the soul has risen there, Its morning star!