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Kind Benefactor ! plant within this bosom
The seeds of holiness, and bid them blossom,
In fragrance, and in beauty bright and vernal

And spring eternal.

Then place them in those everlasting gardens,
Where angels walk, and seraphs are the wardens;
Where every flower, brought safe through death's dark portal,

Becomes immortal.

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WHEN Spring unlocks the flowers to paint the laughing soil;
When Summer's balmy showers refresh the mower's toil;
When Winter binds in frosty chains the fallow and the flood,
In God the earth rejoiceth still, and owns his Maker good.

The birds that wake the morning, and those that love the shade;
The winds that sweep the mountain, or lall the drowsy glade;
The Sun that from his amber bower rejoiceth on his way,
The Moon and Stars, their Master's name in silent pomp display.

Shall Man, the lord of nature, expectant of the sky,
Shall Man, alone unthankful, his little praise deny?
No, let the year forsake his course, the seasons cease to be,
Thee, Master, must we always love, and Saviour, honour Thee.

The flowers of Spring may wither, the hope of Summer fade,
The Autumn droop in Winter, the birds forsake the shade;
The winds be lullid--the Sun and Moon forget their old decree,
But we in Nature's latest hour, O Lord ! will cling to Thee !

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Of highest God! that loves bis creatures so,
And all his works with mercy doth embrace,

That blessed angels he sends to and fro,
To serve to wicked men, to serve his wicked foe.

How oft do they their silver bowers leave,
To come to succour us, that succour want?
How oft do they, with golden pinions, cleave
The flitting skies, like flying pursuivant,
Against foul fiends to aid us militant ?
They for us fight, they watch and duly ward,
And their bright squadrons round about us plant;

And all for love, and nothing for reward :
Oh! why should heavenly Love to man have such regard ?-


Along the stream the living chariot bearing, Are ye forever to your skies departed ? With its high crystal arch, intensely pure!* Oh! will ye visit this dim world no more? And the dread rushing of your wings that Ye whose bright wings a solemn splendour hour, darted

Was like the noise of waters in their

power. Thro' Eden's fresh, and flowering shades of yore?

But in the Olive-Mount, by night appearing, Now are the fountains dried on that sweet Midst the dim leaves, your holiest work was spot,

done!And ye-our faded earth beholds you not! Whose was the voice that came divinely

cheering, Yet, by your shining eyes not all forsaken, Fraught with the breath of God to aid his Man wandered from his Paradise away ;

Son ?Ye, from forgetfulness his heart to waken, Haply of those that on the moonlit plains, Came down, high guests ! in many a later Wafted good-tidings unto Syrian swains.

day, And with the Patriarchs under vine and oak,

Yet one more task was yours 1-your heaMidst noontide calm, or hush of evening venly dwelling spoke.

Ye left, and by th' unseal'd sepulchral stone

In glorious raiment sat; the weepers telling From you, the veil of midnight darkness That He they sought, had triumph'd, and rending,

was gone! Came the rich mysteries to the sleeper's eye, Now have ye left us for the brighter shore, That saw your hosts ascending and de- Your presence lights the lonely groves no scending,

more! On those bright steps between the earth and sky;

But may ye not, unseen, around us hover, Trembling he woke and bow'd o'er glory's With gentle promptings and sweet influence trace,

yet? And worshipp'd awe-struck in that fearful Tho' the fresh glory of those days be over, place.

When, midst the palm-trees, man your foot

steps met? By Chebar's brook ye pass'd, such glory

wearing, As mortal vision might but ill endure;

* Ezekiel : chap. i.

Are ye not near when Faith and Hope rise A kingly character he bears, high,

No change his priestly office knows; When Love by strength o’ermasters agony? | Unfading is the crown he wears,

His joys can never reach a close.
Are ye not near, when sorrow unrepining,
Yields up life's treasures unto Him who Adorned with glory from on high,

Salvation shines upon his face ; When Martyrs, all things for his sake re- His robe is of th' ethereal dye, signing,

His steps are dignity and grace.
Lead on the march of death serenely brave?
Dreams!-but a deeper thought our souls Inferior honours he disdains,
may fill,

Nor stoops to take applause from earth ; One, one is near-a Spirit, holier still! The King of kings himself maintains

Th' expences of his heavenly birth.


The noblest creature seen below,
Ordain'd to fill a throne above;
God gives him all he can bestow,
His kingdom of eternal love !


HONOUR and happiness unite,
To make the Christian's name a praise ;
How fair the scene, how clear the light,
That fills the remnant of his days!

My soul is ravish'd at the thought!
Methinks from earth, I see him rise!
Angels congratulate his lot,
And shout him welcome to the skies !

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