Beneath the frown of wicked men

Our country's strength is bowing ; But, thanks to God! they can't prevent

The lone wild-flowers from blowing.

High, high above the tree-tops

The lark is soaring free,
Where streams the light, through broken clouds,

His speckled breast I see :
Beneath the might of wicked men
The
poor

man's worth is dying ; But thank'd be God! in spite of them

The lark still warbles flying.

The preacher prays, "Lord bless us!"

“ Lord bless us !” echo cries; “ Amen !” the breezes murmur low!

“ Amen !" the rill replies. The ceaseless toil of woe-worn hearts,

The proud with pangs are praying; But here, O God of earth and heaven

The humble heart is praying !

Speak low, thou heav'n-paid teacher !

The tempest bursts above :
God whispers in the thunder-hear

The terrors of his love!

On useful hands, and honest hearts

The base their wrath are wreaking ; But thank'd be God! they can't prevent The storm of heaven from speaking.

EBENEZER ELLIOT.

LEAD, KINDLY LIGHT.

LEAD, kindly light amid the encircling gloom ;

Lead thou me on! The night is dark, and I am far from home ;

Lead thou me on! Keep thou my feet! I do not ask to see The distant scene-one step's enongh for me!

I was not ever thus inclined that thou

Should'st lead me on. I lov'd to see and choose my path ; but now

Lead thou me on! I lov'd the garish day, and spite of fears, Pride ruled my will—remember not past years !

So long thy power and love hath led me, sure it still

Will lead me on

O'er moor and fen, o'er crag and torrent, till

The night is gone; And, with the morn, those angel faces smile, Which I have loved long since and lost awhile !

KEEBLE.

THE MINISTRY OF ANGELS.

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 ?

SPENSER.

FOR MY BROTHER'S ORDINATION

Christ to the young man said : Yet one thing

more ; If thou would'st perfect be,

Sell all thou hast and give it to the poor,

And come, and follow me!

Within this temple Christ again, unseen,

Those sacred words hath said,
And his invisible hands to day have been
Laid on a young

man's head.

And evermore beside him, on his way,

The unseen Christ shall move ; That he may

his

say, “ Dost thou, dear Lord ! approve ?”

lean upon

arm, and

Beside him at the marriage feast shall be,

To make the scene more fair, Beside him in the dark Gethesemane

Of pain and midnight prayer.

O holy trust! O endless sense of rest,

Like the beloved John,
To lay his head upon the Saviour's breast,
And thus to journey on!

LONGFELLOW. SIN.

Man-like is it to fall in sin,
Fiend-like is it to dwell therein,
Christ-like is it for sin to grieve,
God-like is it all sin to leave.

LONGFELLOW.

THE STAR OF BETHLEHEM.

WHEN, marshall'd on the nightly plain,

The glitt'ring host bestud the sky; One star alone, of all the train,

Can fix the sinner's wandering eye.

Hark! hark! to God the chorus breaks,

From every host, from every gem; But one alone the Saviour speaks,

It is the Star of Bethlehem !

Once on the raging seas I rode,

The storm was loud—the night was darkThe ocean yawn'd-and rudely blow'd

The wind that toss'd my foundering bark.