Flows freely down like a river of light,
To the world from which I came.

Do you mourn when another star
Shines out from the glittering sky?
Do you weep when the noise of war
And the rage of conflict die?
Then why should your tears roll down,
And your heart be sorely riven,
For another gem in the Saviour's crown,
And another soul in heaven?

"BRING BACK MY FLOWERS.”

JUDGE CHARLETON.

A child sat by a limpid stream,
And gazed upon the tide beneath;
Upon her cheek was joy's bright beam,
And on her brow a blooming wreath;
Her lap was filled with blushing flowers,
And as the clear brook babbled by,
She scattered down the rosy showers,
With many a wild and joyous cry,
And laughed to see the mingling tide.
Upon the onward progress glide.

And time flew on

and flower by flower
Was cast upon the sunny stream,
But when the shades of eve did lower,

She woke up from her blissful dream :

"Bring back my flowers," she wildly cried,

Bring back my flowers I flung to thee!"

But echo's voice alone replied,

As danced the streamlet down the lea: And still amid night's gloomy hours,

In vain she cried, "Bring back my flowers!"

Oh maiden! who on time's swift stream,
Most gladly sees thy moments flee,
In this poor child's delusive dream,
An emblem thou may'st find of thee!
Each moment is a perfumed rose,
Into thy hand by mercy given,
That thou its fragrance might dispose,
And let its incense rise to heaven;

Else when death's shadow o'er thee lowers,
Thy heart will wail, "Bring back my flowers!"

THE ABSENT SUN.

Where are thy beams, oh Sun ?

The earth stands mourning for thy vanished light, When will thy rays once more rejoice the sight?

4

Shine forth again-thou bright and glorious One!
A tinge of gloom is over all things spread,
And nature sighs, and veils her drooping head,

How dark and dim the day!

The stately pines erect their heads on high,
Their sombre foliage mingles with the sky,
A sky as bleak and desolate as they ;-
Rock, river, stream and hill wear one dull hue,
And nothing bright or cheerful meets the view.

The Sun-the Sun shines forth!

Now the stream sparkles with a silvery light,
And the blue hills look beautiful and bright;
Again in light and loveliness the earth
Is smiling all her gloom is chased away,
And joy descends in that reviving ray.

And thus it is with thee,

My soul! how oft a deep and rayless gloom
Hath shrouded thee in darkness like the tomb,
Within, around thee all was dark and sad,

And all in Misery's sombre livery clad.

The Sun returned once more

The Sun of Righteousness, with healing wings, He who salvation to the spirit brings;

And all thy darkness and distress were o'er
Thy Saviour, thy Redeemer smiled, and then
Peace, happiness were made thine own again.

Sun of my soul! oh shine

Forever on my heart

let nought conceal

Thy cheering radiance- let me always feel

Thy warmth, for I am blest while thou art mine;
May no dark clouds of sin and folly rise
To veil thy light from these adoring eyes!

Thy beams shall lead me on

Through all the perils of mine upward way,
Guided by thee my footsteps shall not stray,
And when this earthly pilgrimage is done
I fain would hope that I shall rise above
To Thee, the Fountain-head of Light and Love.

THANKS FOR DAILY BREAD.

ROBERT HERRICK.

Lord, Thou hast given me a cell,
Wherein to dwell;

A little house whose humble roof

Is weather-proof;

Under the spars of which I lie

Both soft and dry ;

Where Thou, my chamber for to ward,
Hath set a guard

Of harmless thoughts, to watch and keep
Me while I sleep.

Low is my porch, as is my fate,
Both void of state;

And yet the threshold of my door
Is worn by the poor,

Who hither come, and freely get
Good words or meat.

Like as my parlor, so my hall,
And kitchen small;

A little buttery and therein
A little bin,

Which keeps my little loaf of bread
Unchipt, unflead.

Some little sticks of thorn or brier
Make me a fire,

Close by whose living coal I sit,.
And glow like it.

Lord, I confess, too, when I dine,
The pulse is thine,

And all those other bits that be

There placed by thee.

The worts, the purslain, and the mess
Of water cress,