Oh, who that has looked on a scene so endearing, For lucre would ruin a prospect so cheering,

And blight the fond hope of the sweet Rose of And lure the freed soul to his fetters again! [Erin,

180.

L. M.

WHITTIER.

1 TAKE back the bowl! take back the bowl! Reserve it for polluted lips;

I will not bow, a tameless soul,
Beneath its dark and foul eclipse.

2 Aye, take it back; let others bring
Oblivion o'er the haunted soul-
My memory is a blessed thing-
Away! Away! take back the bowl.

3 An upright heart-a guiltless brow-
A soul unbowed, are left alone;

I will not break in madness now,
The only staff I lean upon.

4 The keenest pangs that grief can send
Shall never prompt to deeds accursed-
Take back the bowl!-I will not bend,
A cowering spirit, to the dust.

1 Look not upon the sparkling wine,
When red within the cup;

Stay not for pleasure when she fills

Her tempting beaker up;

WILLIS.

Though clear its depths, and rich its glow,
A spell of madness lurks below.

2 They say 'tis pleasant on the lip,
And lively on the brain;

They say it stirs the sluggish blood,
And dulls the tooth of pain;
Aye, but within its gloomy deeps,
A stinging serpent treach'rous sleeps.

3 Then turn the burning cup aside,

And spill the purple wine;

Take not its madness to thy lip

Let not its curse be thine :

'Tis red and rich, but grief and woe
Are hid those rosy depths below.

1 HOSANNAS, Lord, to thee we sing,
Whose power the giant fiend obeys,
What countless thousands tribute bring,
For happier homes and brighter days!

2 Thou wilt not break the bruised reed,
Nor leave the broken heart unbound;
The wife regains a husband freed!
The orphan clasps a father found!

3 Spare, Lord, the thoughtless, guide the blind,
Till man no more shall deem it just,
To live by forging chains to bind
His weaker brother in the dust.

4 With nature's draught your goblets fill,
And pledge the world that ye are free!
God of eternal truth, WE WILL!
Our cause is thine, our trust in thee:

183.

P. M.

Jeremiah, 13: 12—14.

SARGENT.

1 WHEN Israel's God in his anger had spoken, The prophet prefigured the curse that he will'd: It was not that life's golden bowl should be broken,

But every bottle with wine should be filled.

2 Avert, God of mercy, that sorrow and sadness,

That broke the fond hearts of Jerusalem then; Permit not the spirit of murder and madness To move with the form and the features of men.

3 Oh, let us not torture the treasures of heaven, To find where the secret of misery lies;

The stream, as it ripples, the rock that is riven, The pure draught of nature for mortals supplies. 4 The bonds of the bacchanal hence let us sever; The draught that bewilders the reason, resign; The type of the prophet be cherished forever :God's vials of wrath were their bottles of wine!

1 O, TREAT the drunkard kindly,
Say not to him in wrath,
He is a human monster-
An imp in virtue's path:

Say not, before his presence,
He is to mercy lost-

Though by intemp'rance shattered-
On dangerous billows tossed.

2 Speak to the drunkard kindly,
And take him by the hand,
And lead him where the outcast
Once more erect may stand;
It is persuasion only

He needs to save him now;
See! gentle words and kindness,
How they inspire his brow!

3 Speak to the drunkard kindly,
And let the starting tear
Reveal thy warm affections,
And sympathy sincere!
For this O, this will save him
From wretchedness and woe,
And cause within his bosom
Pure gratitude to flow.

4 O treat the drunkard kindly,
And you will surely win
From paths of degradation,
From sorrow and from sin :
And in the world of glory
Full many a soul will shine,
Which by your generous efforts,
Was raised to bliss divine.

1 HARK, hark, the sweet music that sounds thro'

And thrills in the ears of us all; [the land, As louder and louder each cold water band, Responds to the true temp'rance call.

2 Lo! thousands spring up from each valley and And seizing the soul-stirring strain, [hill. Send back the blest challenge with hearty good From hill-top to valley again.

[will,

3 And thus may the strains of the cold-water song Refresh us while lasts the glad day;

And night, in its stillness, the echo prolong,
Till time with us passes away.

4 While hope, with her warm light, each beaming
Evermore may that life-giving strain [eye fills,
Ring out as an earnest of joy, till it thrills
And echoes to heaven again.

186.

S. M.

M. W. HALE.

1 PRAISE for the glorious light,

Which crowns this joyous day;

Whose beams dispel the shades of night,
And wake our grateful lay!

2 Praise for the mighty band,
Redeemed from error's chain;
Whose echoing voices, through our land,
Join our triumphaut strain!

3 Ours is no conquest gained
Upon the tented field;

Nor hath the flowing life-blood stained
The victor's helm and shield.

4 But the strong might of love,

And truth's all-pleading voice,
As angels bending from above,
Have made our hearts rejoice.

5 Lord! upward to thy throne

Th' imploring voice we raise;
The might, the strength, are thine alone!
Thine be our loftiest praise.