Christ, the Rock of Ages.
Rock of ages, cleft for me, Let me hide myself in thee! Let the water and the blood, From thy riven side which flowed, Be of sin the double cure,
Cleanse me from its guilt and power
Not the labour of my hands, Can fulfil thy law's demands; Could my zeal no respite know, Could my tears for ever flow, All for sin could not atone! Thou must save, and thou alone.
Nothing in my hand I bring; Simply to thy cross I cling; Naked come to thee for dress; Helpless, look to thee for grace; To the cleansing fountain fly, Wash me, Saviour, or I die!
While I draw this fleeting breath, When my eye-strings break in death, When I soar to worlds unknown, See thee on thy judgment throne,- Rock of ages, cleft for me, Let me hide myself in thee!
Angry Words.
ANGRY words are lightly spoken In a rash and thoughtless hour; Brightest links of life are broken By their deep, insidious power. Hearts, inspired by warmest feeling, Ne'er before by anger stirred, Oft are rent past human healing, By a single angry word.
Poison-drops of care and sorrow, Bitter poison-drops are they, Weaving for the coming morrow Saddest memories of to-day.
Angry words—oh, let them never From the tongue unbridled slip: May the heart's best impulse ever Check them ere they soil the lip.
Love is much too pure and holy, Friendship is too sacred far, For a moment's reckless folly, Thus to desolate and mar. Angry words are lightly spoken: Bitterest thoughts are rashly stirred, Brightest links of life are broken, By a single angry word.
Che Frost.
BY HANNAH F. GOULD.
THE Frost looked forth, one still, clear night; And whispered, "Now I shall be out of sight; So, through the valley, and over the height, In silence I'll take my way.
I will not go on like that blustering train,- The wind and the snow, the hail and the rain,— Who make so much bustle and noise in vain ; But I'll be as busy as they."
Then he flew to the mountain, and powdered its crest,
He lit on the trees, and their boughs he dressed In diamond beads; and over the breast
Of the quivering lake he spread A coat of mail, that it need not fear The downward point of many a spear, That he hung on its margin, far and near, Where a rock could rear its head.
He went to the windows of those who slept, And over each pane, like a fairy, crept; Wherever he breathed, wherever he stepped, By the light of the moon, were seen
Most beautiful things; there were flowers and
There were bevies of birds, and swarms of bees;
There were cities, with temples and towers; and these
All pictured in silver sheen.
"I WOULD NOT LIVE ALWAY."
But he did one thing that was hardly fair, He peeped in the cupboard, and finding there That all had forgotten for him to prepare, "Now, just to set them a-thinking,
I'll bite this basket of fruit," said he; "This costly pitcher I'll burst in three; And the glass of water they've left for me
Shall 'tchick'! to tell them I'm drinking."
"I would not live alway."
"I WOULD not live alway," I ask not to stay Where storm after storm rises dark o'er the way; The few lurid mornings that dawn on us here, Are enough for life's woes,-full enough for its
“I would not live alway,” thus fettered by sin, Temptation without and corruption within; E'en the rapture of pardon is mingled with fears, of thanksgiving with penitent tears.
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