How high, how strong their raptures swell,

There's none but kindred souls can tell.

5 Nor shall the glowing flame expire,
When nature drops her sick'ning fire;
Then shall they meet in realms above,
A heav'n of joy, because of love.

ANON.

THE YEAR.

Thou unknown fragment of that scroll
Whose signet was, ere Time began,
Ocean, whose waves were wont to roll
Ere God from nothing fashioned man,
Whence art thou, evanescent Year?
Atom! declare, what dost thou here?

Is it, perchance, to mock awhile,
With added moments, life's poor day?
With cheating vision to beguile

Man that appears and hastes away?
Deceitful tide! thy meteor wave,
Buoys him, yet bears him to his grave.

Wilt thou not like the other

years

That were before thee, disappear? Why com'st thou with thy dreams and tears, Thy burdens, melancholy year?

"Tis fit thou too should'st come and

go,

For nought unchanging is below.

"Tis fit that all should fade and die,

Yea, Ruin's voice shall shake the spheres ;
The yellow leaf that sails on high,

The weary date of days and years,
Alike pass on and are forgot,

Once here, but now remembered not.

And let them pass, for what but dust
Are wheeling worlds, and what are we?
Creatures, from frailty formed at first,
Yet, linked to an eternity,

When ruined worlds on worlds shall roll,
Still lives the disembodied soul.

TAPPAN.

COMFORT IN AFFLICTION.

The path of sorrow, and that path alone,
Leads to the land where sorrow is unknown:
No traveller ever reach'd that blest abode,
Who found not thorns and briers on his road.
O balmy gales of soul-reviving air!
O salutary streams that murmur there!
These flowing from the fount of grace above,
Those breath'd from lips of everlasting love,
The flinty soil indeed their feet annoys,
Chill blasts of trouble nip their springing
joys;

An envious world will interpose its frown,
To mar delights superior to its own;
And many a pang experienc'd still within,

Reminds them of their hated inmate Sin; But ills of every shape and ev'ry name Transform'd to blessings, miss their cruel aim;

And ev'ry moment's calm that sooths the breast

Is given in earnest of eternal rest.

COWPER.

RESIGNATION.

1 When musing sorrow weeps the past,
And mourns the present pain;
How sweet to think of peace at last,
And feel that death is gain!

2 'Tis not that murm'ring thoughts arise,
And dread a Father's will;
'Tis not that meek submission flies,
And would not suffer still.

s It is that heav'n-taught faith surveys,
The path to realms of light;
And longs her eagle plumes to raise,
And lose herself in sight.

4 It is that hope with ardour glows,
To see HIм face to face,

Whose dying love no language knows
Sufficient art to trace.

5 It is that harass'd conscience feels
The pangs of struggling sin;

Sees, though afar, the band that heals,
And ends her war within.

6 Oh! let me wing my hallow'd flight
From earth-born wo and care;
And soar beyond these realms of night,
My Saviour's bliss to share.

NOEL.

DEATH OF A BELIEVER.

1 When a believer yields his breath,
I follow him with eyes of faith

Where sense can see no more;
Methinks I see him spread his wings,
And soar above material things,
Το yon celestial shore.

2 No tongue can tell, no fancy paint,
What transport fills th' enraptur'd saint,
Of paradise possess'd:

His wants abundantly supplied,
His wishes fully satisfied,

Himself supremely blest!

9 But what occasions so much joy? Or what can now his pow'rs employ, That yields him such delight? "Tis Jesus on his heav'nly throne, Who sav'd and claim'd him for his own; What object half so bright?

4 How far is what he saw below, Or all he had the pow'r to know, By what he sees excell'd!

The clouds that interpos'd before,
Obstruct his clearer view no more;
And Jesus stands reveal'd.

5 But see, he joins the ransom'd throng,
And swells the grand triumphant song
"Of Moses and the Lamb.”

Jesus, the object of their praise;

The Lord, who deign'd such worms to raise;

Th' unsearchable "I AM!"

60 may we know the Saviour's grace;
And then in heaven behold his face,
On wings angelic borne ;

For this let men our hope contemn;
Well pleas'd we'll smile and pity them,
And haste beyond their scorn.

KELLY.

ODE

Written for the second Anniversary of the American Sunday-School Union-1826.

If this low vale of strife and tears
Were never sunned by Mercy's beam,
Where gladness now, O God, appears,
How dark would thy creation seem!
Revealed in splendours was thy Name,
When Morn her banners first unfurled;
Yet lovelier is the Light that came,
Shedding Redemption o'er a world.