fiery shafts of temptation, and invested with the dangerous gift of unbounded power. It were easier for the shivered crystal to unite without a flaw, than for a great prince to pass unspotted by sin into the presence of his God. Yet a time will come, although even the eyes of the Prophet can see it but dimly and darkly at a far distance, when the power of the Evil One will be fettered and restrained; when a guiding light shall be vouchsafed to the children of men; and when the Kings of the earth will shame to act even as the best of them in these unhallowed days.' "I dwelt for a few years in the house of Nathan, among the Sons of the Prophets. I became a convert to the Law of Moses, and a poet and musician of great fame; but I dreaded the shoals and quicksands of public life; and, having obtained the hand of thy mother Sheluma, a maiden of Judah whom I loved, I withdrew with the wealth which I had acquired into this fruitful land, where I have dwelt in tranquillity, and hope to die in peace." "FEAR NOT." BY JOSIAH CONDER. "Fear not. I have the keys of the Grave and of Death." Rev. i. 17, 18. I. O cling not, Trembler, to life's fragile bark; Look not below, where all is chill and dark : 'Tis agony to think Of that wild waste. But look, O look above, And see the outstretched arm of Love! II. Cling not to this poor life. Unlock thy clasp Of fleeting, vapoury air. The world, receding, soon will mock thy grasp : But let the wings of prayer Take Heaven's own blessed breeze, and upward flee, III. O fear not Him who walks the stormy wave: 'Tis not a Spectre, but the Lord! Trust thou in Him who overcame the Grave, The powers of Death. Heed not the monster grim, IV. Look not so fondly back on this false earth; Say, would the worm forego its second birth, That gives it wings to try a world unknown, V. But thou art not alone; on either side The portal, friends stand guard; To trust our Maker with the soul he gave, Or Him who died that soul to save? VI. Into His hands commit thy trembling spirit, Who gave His life for thine. Guilty, fix all thy trust upon His merit; To Him thy heart resign. Oh! give Him love for love, and sweetly fall A REFLECTION. BY J. F. HOLLINGS. I. THE beryl, in its secret bed, As free from stain would shine, II. On many an unfrequented shore, The flowers of beauty rise, And rocks, which flame with golden ore, And shells like evening's dyes; Nor smiles the bow of peace the less, When parts the storm on high, O'er the green ocean's loneliness, Or in the desert sky. III. Is there no music in the blast, IV. Inscribed upon the rolling sea, Nor seeks our frail, perceptive view, Nor needs our faint acclaim, The glory infinitely new, Which robes thine awful Name! V. These, in unaltering strength arrayed, Oh King of endless days! These wonders which thine hands have made, Have best proclaimed thy praise; These, in thy wide magnificence, Shall hymn Thy perfect will; When Death has veiled our fading sense, And man's weak voice is still! |