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Beyond the rising and the setting,

I shall be soon ;
Beyond the calming and the fretting,
Beyond remembering and forgetting,

I shall be soon.
Love, rest, and home!
Sweet home!
Lord, tarry not, but come.

Beyond the parting and the meeting,

I shall be soon ;
Beyond the farewell and the greeting,
Beyond the pulse's fever beating,

I shall be soon.
Love, rest, and home!
Sweet home!
Lord, tarry not, but come.

Beyond the frost-chain and the fever,

I shall be soon ;
Beyond the rock-waste and the river,
Beyond the ever and the never

I shall be soon.
Love, rest, and home!
Sweet home!
Lord, tarry not, but come.

Rev. Dr. Bonar. A LITTLE LONGER.

A

LITTLE longer yet, a little longer,

Shall violets bloom for thee and sweet birds fing, And the lime branches, where soft winds are blowing,

Shall murmur the sweet promise of the spring.

A little longer yet, a little longer,

Thou shalt behold the quiet of the morn, While tender grasses and awakening fowers,

Send up a golden tint to greet the dawn.

A little longer yet, a little longer,

The tenderness of twilight shall be thine, The rosy clouds that float o'er dying daylight,

Nor fade till trembling stars begin to shine.

A little longer yet, a little longer,

Shall starry night be beautiful for thee, And the cold moon shall look through the blue silence,

Flooding her silver path upon the sea.

A little longer yet, a little longer,

Life shall be thine — life with its power to will, Life with its strength to bear, to love, to conquer,

Bringing its thousand joys thy heart to fill.

A little longer yet, a little longer,

The voices thou hast loved shall charm thine ear; And thy true heart that now beats quick to hear them

A little longer yet, shall hold them dear.

A little longer yet, joy while thou mayst;

Love and rejoice, for time has nought in store ; And soon the darkness of the grave shall bid thee

Love and rejoice, and feel and know no more.

A little longer still — patience, beloved :

A little longer still, ere heaven unroll
The glory, and the brightness, and the wonder,

Eternal and divine that waits thy soul.

A little longer ere life, true, immortal,

(Not this our shadowy life) will be thine own, And thou shalt stand where winged archangels worship,

And trembling bow before the Great White Throne.

A little longer still, and heaven awaits thee,

And fills thy spirit with a great delight;
Then our pale joys will seem a dream forgotten,

Our sun a darkness, and our day a night.

A little longer, and thy heart, beloved,

Shall beat forever with a love divine; And joy so pure, so mighty, so eternal,

No mortal knows, and lives, shall then be thine.

A little longer yet, and angel voices

Shall sing in heavenly chant upon thine ear ; Angels and saints await thee, and God needs thee; Belovéd, can we bid thee linger here?

Christian Register.

DEATH.

W Above impure corruption

HEN Thou shalt please this soul to enthrone

What should I grieve or feare, To think this breathlefse body must Become a loathsome heape of dust,

And ne'er again appeare ?

For in the fire where ore is tryed,
And by that torment purified,

Doe we deplore the losse ?
And, when Thou shalt my soul refine,
That it thereby may purer shine,

Shall I grieve for the drosse ?

Habington.

MORTALITY.

“ And we shall be changed.”

Y

E dainty mofles, lichens gray,

Prefi'd each to each in tender fold, And peacefully thus, day by day,

Returning to their mould;

Brown leaves, that with aerial grace

Slip from your branch like birds a-wing, Each leaving in the appointed place

Its bud of future Spring;

If
we,

God's conscious creatures, knew
But half your faith in our decay,
We should not tremble as we do

When summon’d clay to clay.

But with an equal patience sweet

We should put off this mortal gear, In whatsoe'er new form is meet

Content to reappear.

Knowing each germ of life He gives

Must have in Him its source and rise,

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