THE WIDOWER'S LAMENT.

Who can describe the silent grief
That fills the Widower's breast;
The solitude that wants relief,

And toils that seek in vain for rest-
The vacancy that home supplies,
Where no kind look salutes the eyes,
Accustomed to be blest?

Surely of all the names that cheer
The rugged path of life,
There's none to social man so dear

As the endearing name of wife;
When mutual love the contract binds,
And the sweet fellowship of minds
Precludes all strife.

But, oh! the agonizing smart,
When Death's relentless sway,
Regardless of the bleeding heart,
Snatches a wife away.
The trial we must undergo,
Ere we can tell one half the woe
Of such an ill fraught day,
And oh! 'tis difficult to find,
In this degenerate race,
A heart adapted, and inclined
To fill the vacant space-
A mind congenial, and a soul
Beneath the doubly sweet controul
Of love and grace.

Yet, 'tis my heavenly Father's will,
To lead me in this way;

And 'tis my duty to be still,

Submissive and obey;

In patience to possess my soul,
And own his Sovereign controul,
From day to day.

A few more weeks, or months, or years,
At most, shall glide away,

And I shall quit this vale of tears

For realms of endless day;

And 'midst the shining ranks above,

Enjoy a more celestial love,

Nor fear the least decay.

SONNET.

"Return unto thy rest, O my Soul."

E. D.

Like Noah's doye, the spirit seeks in vain,
Whilst o'er the earth she wings her devious way,
Some solid ground-some resting-place to gain;
The world deceitful as the treach'rous main,

Is delug'd with a thousand gilded woes;-
Now cheer'd, alas! by hope's delusive ray,
She lights to enjoy a long and cloudless day;
And now, o'erwhelm'd by disappointment's
throes,

She mourns the Ark she left-to heav'n she flies, Where pleasure ne'er betrays, nor ever dies, And on the tomb of faded earthly Joys,

Where hope's fair scene in scatter'd ruins lies, She writes and oh! 'tis truth her pen employs"Too low they build, who build beneath the skies."

B. C.

ON THE ENTRANCE OF THE NEW YEAR.
Another transient period gone,
And lo! another year begup,
How swift the seasons fly!
My grateful tribute here I raise
To God the guardian of my days,
And source of all my joy.

With deep contrition at thy throne,
My great unworthiness I own

Of the least blessing giv'n;
Thy power prolongs my fleeting breath-
Thy grace redeems my soul from death,
And gives the hope of heav'n.
Preserved by thine Almighty band,
In life's precarious path I stand,
Encircled by thy care.

But, hadst thou strictly mark'd my sin,
Long e'er this period, I had been

In darkness and despair,

Thanks to thy name for temporal good-
My health, and raiment, friends, aud food,
Come from thy bounteons hand.
Present supply from thee descends,
And all my future bliss depends

On thy supreme command.

To thee I consecrate my time,
And all my lot in life resign

To thy paternal Jove.

May each revolving season show,
My heart is weau'd from all below,
And fix'd on things above.

LINES

G. B.

Written in a Boat, upon the River, between New
Ross and Waterford, July 14, 1820.

To God that made the world I owe my breath,
My flesh, and soul, with all I am or have;
And he will fetch my Spirit at my death,
And guard my flesh while slumb'ring in the grave.
But, I have broke my Maker's righteous law;
To make his glory my perpetual aim;
And sin is mix'd with every breath 1 draw;
And has corrupted all any mortal frame.
Nor, may I plead the blame as Adam's due,
For conscience tells me I deserve to die;
If God require, I've no excuse to shew;
Nor could against his judgment e'er reply.
But, Jesus! O the precious wond'rous name,
My heart rejoices at the heav'nly sound;
He has the cross endur'd, and borne the shame,
To make his grace with righteousness abound.
He saw the wretched state our souls were in,
And flew on wings of love to our relief;
God has aton'd for man the creature's sin!
To ransom guilty rebels, e'en the chief!
Look to my cross and live, the suff'rer cries;
My sacrifice eternal life procures;
The man that on my off'ring relies,
Shall never perish while my throne endures.
Enough, dear Saviour! I believe thy word;
And to thy keeping yield my flesh and soul;
Accept the purchase of thy precious blood,
And bear the praise while endless ages roll.

S. D.

learning and talents into the means of pecuniary profit. But, let us hear his own defence;-"Do they think" says he, "that all these meaner and superfluous things come from God, and the divine gift of learning from the den of Plutus, or the cave of Mammon? Certainly, never any clear spirit, nursed up in brighter influences, with a soul enlarged to the dimensions of spacious art, and high knowledge, ever entered there but with scorn, and thought it ever foul disdain to make pelf or ambition the reward of his studies; it being the greatest honour, the greatest fruit and proficiency of learned studies, to despise these things."

In the year 1740, Mr. King removed to London, at the invitation of the church in Hare-court, which had now heen two years destitute of a pastor, baving been deprived of the labours of a most promising and acceptable young minister, Mr. Samuel Bruce, | who was cut off, Dec. 5, 1737, at the early age of twenty-seven. On the 14th of February, 1740, Mr. King was settled in the pastoral charge of that church; and, about the same time, received from one of the Scotch Universities, a diploma, creating him Doctor in Divinity. In the year 1748, Dr. King was chosen into the Merchant's Lecture, Pinner's Hall, in the room of Mr. Peter Goodwin; and, in that station he continued to lecture till within a few weeks of his death. He was also engaged during many years in conducting what is now called,

the Monkwell-street lecture, though it commenced at Silver-street; and likewise in the Lime-street lecture, afterwards removed to Little St. Helens.

In the latter part of his life, Dr. King suffered greatly from that painful disorder, the stone in the bladder. This affliction he sustained with exemplary patience and resignation to the divine will, frequently expressing his thankfulness that it was not worse. The first attack of this disorder, of which he was sensible, was in the month of January, 1765, and it continued to harrass him at intervals, till the period of his death. On the 26th of February, 1769, he preached his last sermon at Hare-court, from the words, Jude, ver. 25. "To the only wise God our Saviour, be glory and majesty, dominion aud power, both now and ever, Amen." On the following Saturday, March 4th, he finished his course, in the 68th year of his age. After his decease, his body was opened, and a stone extracted, which measured seven inches in the circumference one way, and five the other! It weighed three ounces and a quarter; in addition to which, there were found two smaller