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And neither sin nor sorrow be

The land to which thou 'rt going.

“ He thy Saviour and thy guide, For thy guilty sake that died, Even now is by thy side,

Comfort thoughts bestowing. Angelic forms their arms extend, And smileth many a long-lost friend Glad welcome to thy journey's end

The land to which thou ’rt going.”

Then, as the burden of their song
In faint sweet cadence dies along,
One happy, radiant look among

group of mourners throwing;
Just as they faded from my view,
I fain would breathe one fond adieu,
Till in that land we meet anew -

The land to which I'm going.


Further fide;

VER the river they beckon to me

Loved ones who've crossed to the further side The gleam of their snowy robes I see,

But their voices are drowned in the rushing tide. There's one with ringlets of sunny gold,

And eyes, the reflection of heaven's own blue ; He crossed in the twilight, gray and cold,

And the pale mist hid him from mortal view. We saw not the angels who met him there ;

The gates of the city we could not see ; Over the river, over the river,

My brother stands waiting to welcome me !

Over the river, the boatman pale

Carried another the household pet :
Her brown curls waved in the gentle gale

Darling Minnie! I see her yet.
She crofled on her bosom her dimpled hands,

And fearlessly entered the phantom bark;
We watched it glide from the silver sands,

And all our sunshine grew strangely dark. We know she is safe on the further side,

Where all the ransomed and angels be; Over the river, the mystic river,

My childhood's idol is waiting for me.

For none return from those quiet shores,

Who cross with the boatman cold and pale ; We hear the dip of the golden oars,

And catch a gleam of the snowy sail, And lo! they have passed from our yearning heart ;

They cross the stream, and are gone for aye ; We may not sunder the veil apart,

That hides from our vision the gates of day.
We only know that their barks no more

May sail with us o'er life's stormy sea ;
Yet somewhere, I know, on the unseen shore,

They watch, and beckon, and wait for me.

And I sit and think, when the sunset's gold,

Is Aushing river, and hill, and shore,
I shall one day stand by the water cold,

And list for the sound of the boatman's oar;
I shall watch for a gleam of the Aapping sail ;

I shall hear the boat as it gains the strand;
I shall pass from fight, with the boatman pale,

To the better shore of the spirit land;
I shall know the loved who have gone before, -

And joyfully sweet will the meeting be,
When over the river, the peaceful river,
The Angel of Death fhall carry me.

Miss N. A. W. Priest.




B Relief sorrow, Thort-lived care ;

RIEF life is here our portion,

The life that knows no ending,

The tearless life is there. Reward of grace how wondrous !

Short toil, - eternal rest! Oh! miracle of mercy,

That rebels should be bleft!

That we, with fin polluted,

Should have our home so high ! That we should dwell in manfions

Beyond the starry sky !
And now we fight the battle,

And then we wear the crown
Of full and everlasting

And ever bright renown.

I know not, oh! I know not

What social joys are there ; What pure, unfading glory ;

What light beyond compare ; And when I fain would fing them,

My spirit fails and faints, And vainly strives to image

The assembly of the saints.

There is the throne of David ;

And there, from toil released, The thout of them that triumph,

The song of them that feaft!
O Garden free from sorrow !

O Plains that fear no ftrife!
O princely Bowers, all blooming!

O Realm and Home of life!



THOU, on earth beloved, adored,

My friend, my father, and my Lord, I see thee now without a veil, – Help; or my dazzled fight will fail. O bear me to that burning throne I scarce can brook to gaze upon,

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