And neither fin 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 fide,

Comfort thoughts bestowing. Angelic forms their arms extend, And smileth many a long-loft 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

That group of mourners throwing;
Juft 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.

X

Ο

OVER THE RIVER.

VER the river they beckon to me

Loved ones who've croffed to the further fide; The gleam of their snowy robes I see,

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

And eyes, the reflection of heaven's own blue; He croffed 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 croffed on her bosom her dimpled hands,
And fearleffly entered the phantom bark;
We watched it glide from the filver sands,

And all our sunshine grew ftrangely dark.
We know she is safe on the further fide,
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 paffed from our yearning heart;
They cross the stream, and are gone for aye;
We may not sunder the veil apart,

That hides from our vifion the gates of day.
We only know that their barks no more
May sail with us o'er life's ftormy sea;
Yet somewhere, I know, on the unseen fhore,
They watch, and beckon, and wait for me.

And I fit and think, when the sunset's gold,
Is flushing river, and hill, and fhore,
I fhall one day ftand by the water cold,

And lift for the sound of the boatman's oar;
I fhall watch for a gleam of the flapping sail;
I fhall hear the boat as it gains the ftrand;
I fhall pass from fight, with the boatman pale,
To the better fhore of the spirit land;
I fhall 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.

Mifs N. A. W. Priest.

HEAVEN.

HEAVEN.

AN ANCIENT HYMN.

RIEF life is here our portion,

BRI

Brief sorrow, short-lived care; The life that knows no ending,

The tearless life is there. Reward of grace how wondrous ! Short toil, eternal reft!

Oh! miracle of mercy,

That rebels fhould be bleft!

That we, with fin polluted,

Should have our home so high! That we fhould dwell in mansions

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 thêm,
My spirit fails and faints,
And vainly strives to image
The affembly of the saints.

There is the throne of David;
And there, from toil released,
The fhout 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!

4444

HEREAFTER.

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,