Then sunk the star of Solyma,

Then passed her glory's day,
Like heath that in the wilderness
The wild wind whirls away.
Silent and waste her bowers,
Where once the mighty trod ;
And sunk those guilty towers,
Where Baal reigned as God.
"Go," said the Lord, "ye conquerors!
Steep in her blood your swords ;
And raze to earth her battlements,
For they are not the Lord's ;
Tell Zion's mournful daughter,
O'er kindred bones she'll tread !
And Hinnom's hall of slaughter
Shall hide but half her dead."

But soon shall other pictured scenes
In brighter vision rise,

When Zion's sun shall sevenfold shine

On all her mourners' eyes;

And on her mountains beauteous stand
The messengers of peace :

"Salvation by the Lord's right hand!”
They shout, and never cease.

EVENING SONG.

(For the Sabbath Day.)

MILLIONS within Thy courts have met,
Millions this day before Thee bowed;

Their faces Zion-ward were set,

Vows with their lips to Thee they vowed: But Thou, soul-searching God! hast known The hearts of all that bent the knee,

And hast accepted those alone,

In spirit and truth that worshipped Thee.

People of many a tribe and tongue,

Men of strange colours, climates, lands,
Have heard Thy truth, Thy glory sung,
And offered prayer with holy hands.

Still, as the light of morning broke
O'er island, continent, or deep,
Thy far-spread family awoke,

Sabbath all round the world to keep.
From east to west, the sun surveyed,
From north to south, adoring throngs!
And still, where evening stretched her shade,
The stars came forth to hear their songs.
Harmonious as the winds and seas,

In halcyon hours, when storms are flown, Arose earth's Babel-languages,

In pure accordance to Thy throne.

Not angel-trumpets sound more clear,
Not elder's harps, nor seraph's lays,
Yield sweeter music to Thine ear,

Than humble prayer and thankful praise.

And not a prayer, a tear, a sigh,

Hath failed this day some suit to gain ;—
To those in trouble Thou wert nigh;
Not one hath sought Thy face in vain.

Thy poor were bountifully fed,

Thy chastened sons have kissed the rod, Thy mourners have been comforted,

The pure in heart have seen their God.

Yet one prayer more; and be it one

In which both heaven and earth accord ;Fulfil thy promise to thy Son,

Let all that breathe call Jesus, Lord!

MONTGOMERY.

"LOVEST THOU ME?" 'Tis a point I long to know, Oft it causes anxious thought,— Do I love the Lord or no? Am I His, or am I not?

If I love, why am I thus ?

Why this dull, this lifeless frame?
Hardly, sure, can they be worse,
Who have never heard His name.
Could my heart so hard remain,
Prayer a task and burden prove,
Every trifle give me pain,
If I knew a Saviour's love?

If I pray, or hear, or read,

Sin is mixed with all I do :
You that love the Lord indeed,
Tell me, is it thus with you?
Yet I mourn my stubborn will,
Find my sin a grief and thrall ;
Should I grieve for what I feel,
If I did not love at all?

Could I joy His saints to meet,
Choose the ways I once abhorred,
Find at times the promise sweet,
If I did not love the Lord?

Lord, decide the doubtful case!
Thou who art Thy people's sun,
Shine upon Thy work of grace,
If it be indeed begun.

Let me love Thee more and more,
If I love at all, I pray ;

If I have not loved before,
Help me to begin to-day.

NEWTON.

A REAL OCCURRENCE IN A CIRCLE OF

FRIENDS.

WHICH is the happiest death to die?
"Oh!" said one, "if I might choose,

Long at the gate of bliss would I lie,
And feast my spirit ere it fly,

With bright celestial views.

Mine were a lingering death, without pain,
A death which all might love to see,

And mark how bright and sweet should be
The victory I should gain!

"Fain would I catch a hymn of love
From the angel-harps which ring above;
And sing it, as my parting breath,
Quivered and expired in death-
So that those on earth might hear
The harp-notes of another sphere ;
And mark, when nature faints and dies,
What springs of heavenly life arise;
And gather, from the death they view,
A ray of hope to light them through,
When they should be departing too."

66

No," said another, "so not I;

Sudden as thought is the death I would die ;
I would suddenly lay my shackles by,

Nor bear a single pang at parting,
Nor see the tear of sorrow starting,
Nor hear the quivering lips that bless me,
Nor feel the hands of love that press me,

Nor the frame with mortal terror shaking,

Nor the heart, where love's soft bands are breaking— So would I die!

All bliss without a pang to cloud it!
All joy, without a pain to shroud it !
Not slain, but caught up, as it were,

To meet my Saviour in the air !
So would I die!

Oh! how bright

Were the realms of light

Bursting at once upon my sight!

Even so,

I long to go,

These parting hours, how sad and slow!"

His voice grew faint, and fixed was his eye,
As if gazing on visions of ecstasy;

The hue of his cheek and lips decayed,
Around his mouth a sweet smile played ;—
They looked-he was dead !—

His spirit had fled :

Painless and swift as his own desire,

The soul undressed

From her mortal vest,

Had stepped in her car of heavenly fire;

And proved how bright

Were the realms of light,

Bursting at once upon the sight!

EDMESTON.

"FAINT, YET PURSUING."

O CHRISTIAN, doth thy spirit faint
Amidst thy stubborn foes?
And is thy feeble heart's complaint,
That there is no repose?

The soldier longs for his release,
And for his tranquil home of peace.